#speing

[riverwindphotography]

Hungry little family :)

(c) gifs by riverwindphotography, April 2025

[italofobia]

Since you're here, please take a look at @maramgaza15 's campaign:

This campaign has only reached 5% percent of its goal. This is unacceptable.

We can't leave Maram, her parents and her siblings on their own. Her house has been destroyed, her sister's university campus has been bombed and there are no more schools in Gaza. How would you feel if you were in such a situation and people who could afford to help you just stood around and did nothing???

Please donate what you can, and share the campaign widely. Maram needs our help.

DON'T INTERACT WITH THE POLL WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING ELSE.

YOU HAVE THE CHANCE TO BE ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF HISTORY, DON'T WASTE IT.

(verified on @gazavetters 's list at number #431 and by beesandwatermelons at line 207)

[ainohikari]

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[thesimplefolk]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠🌸🌿

[dblsoul]

legends arceus aftermath, pokespe edition

[penumbramewtwos]

Get chilli to meet Huey XD

Silliness indeed~

Bonus adult Huey

Huey and Newt (Newtwo) belong to @xxtc-96xx ^^

[a-spes]

Hi! If you’re taking fic requests, may I request a story with fem!nerd reader whose a loner, paired with popular Wanda, Natasha, or both?

Their friends challenge them to a bet, daring them to make the reader fall for them. As time goes on, they unexpectedly develop real feelings for her. However, on the day the reader confesses to both of them, she discovers the truth, that it was all just a bet, while their friends are present. Reader distances herself, but Wanda and Natasha do everything they can to win her back. Angst and fluff please!

Of course, you don’t have to write this if you’re not comfortable, but thank you regardless! ☺️

A Penny for your Love. (W. M. x N. R. x R.) — Part one. (5.006 words.)

| Tags & Warning — Popular!Natasha Romanoff x Popular!Wanda Maximoff x Looser!Reader. University alternative universe, social anxiety, loneliness, spiralling thoughts, alcohol consumption (just a bit), insecurities (a lot, not gonna lie), cheating (not really), lies, manipulation (or at least not being honest), fluff, angst (a bit).

| A/N — my draft was very (very) long so there will be two parts (or maybe three, i will see). i hope you will enjoy this first part even if it is coming a bit late!

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

You were sure that no one would notice if you were not here.

And this statement was not the result of dark thoughts, it was a fact. A conclusion so simple that the realization had been agonizing — how did you not realize this sooner? You always knew you were not outstanding, but you never thought you were so.. disposable.

People do not know your name, and those who see you every day barely remember your face. Yet, it has been almost three years. And even though you knew you could not blame them — how could you? You had never exchanged more than a few words with them — the heaviness this fact had placed on your chest was impossible to shake off.

It was your fault.

You were the one who put yourself in this situation. You were the only one who could be blamed for it and, at the same time, the only one who could get you out of it. But the realization came too late, you kept repeating yourself, at that time, the friendships were already made, and you were sure no one would need — or want — a new one.

You were sure no one was as lonely as you were. 

But that was nothing more than an excuse, a reason not to even try, because the truth was that you didn’t feel up to the task. It should be easy, to exchange a few words with the people you saw every day, for more than two years, but it was not. 

Every time you looked at them, you felt your insides knot up. Every time you thought of exchanging a few words with them, you were petrified, not to mention the few times life had forced you to do so. You had uttered a few words whose syllables had become jumbled, your voice trembling as you were saying the words you would regret for the next few years.

It is no surprise that you did not make any friends. 

You are a mess. 

The voice in your head whispers the same thing again, and again, until you can’t do anything but believe its poisonous words. Your fists clenched until your fingernails leave crescent-shaped marks in your palm, you try to push these thoughts away but, deep down, you know. 

There is some truth in these words. 

It was no coincidence that every one of your attempts at making friends had failed, and not just at university. It has always been that way. The loneliness and the yearning to be a part of their world, two feelings that had been tearing you apart since a very young age. 

But you were used to it by now, even enjoying the loneliness sometimes — It has its advantages. These were also words you kept repeating in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, more lies. I do not care, you were saying through gritted teeth but, as you were watching them, you could not ignore the jealousy that was creeping up.

And even though you should not, in these moments, you didn’t want anything more than being one of them. You wanted to be the one who laughs at the jokes one of her friends just told her, even if it was lame. To be the one who didn’t have time to finish her meal because she spent the lunch break chatting. The one who was courageous enough to speak up in class, ask the questions that bloom in her mind and give the answers, even when they were wrong. The one who would not have to worry about the group projects because she would already know who she was going to be with, their eyes meeting before the instructions were even given because it was just as obvious as the color of the sky that they would be a group. 

You yearned to be one of those that were brave enough to live, to exist.

But no matter how much you wanted it, you had never managed to get it. The invisible wall that separated you from them was far too thick to be broken that easily, and so you stayed there, watching them from the other side of what seemed to be a one-way mirror — You could see them, but they were unaware of your existence. 

And because wanting something was not enough to get it, you never managed to do more than touch your dreams with your fingertips. For every step you took forward, you felt like you were making three back afterwards.

You were not getting closer to your dream. 

You were moving away from it, drawing in your own mess. 

The few times you had had the impression of being a part of their world had only been illusions that never lasted long. It was nothing more than fragments of what it could be. 

And you wanted more than that.

More than snatches, what you really wanted was a permanent spot in this sweet universe that was theirs. A place where solitude would not be a constraint, but a choice, and yours. Not one that was made by others because they did not deem you worthy of their time.

But life is not a fairy tale. It is cruel, harsh, and the reality catches up with you faster than you would like when your language teacher announces a group project — In pairs.

You do not even look at your classmates, preferring to avoid their gaze by pretending you are writing something on your notebook — you are not, you are just scribbling circles. But the motion helps you to think about how you are going to formulate your request. This teacher is a bit of a boor, you thought, so there is little chance of her agreeing to you doing this project on your own but maybe, maybe with the right words you could change her mind.

The course is continuing, but you are not listening anymore, unable to think about anything other than this stupid assignment, than the conversation you will have at the end of the course. Your breathing has quickened, your hands have become clammy, but even though you keep telling yourself that everything is okay, you can’t calm down. At least not enough to be able to concentrate on the class. The teacher’s words seem far away, and they do not really reach you, as if cotton had been put in your ears.

It is a tap on the shoulder that eventually pulls you out of your thoughts, preventing you from falling further down the rabbit hole into which this whole story was dragging you in. When you turn your head, your eyes land on a pretty redhead — Natasha Romanoff. She is not in your class, being a bit older, so you do not see her much outside the language classes. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured, and you must have looked surprised — perhaps even frightened — because she immediately moved her hand back in a gesture of appeasement. “I wanted to know if you would like to pair up with me?” She said, and you could not help but notice how soft her voice sounded as she was asking you to be her partner for the second time, the words not having reached your ears the first. 

“What?” You replied without thinking, but maybe you should have, it would have prevented you from saying the stupidest thing you could have. The instant the question escapes you, you bite your lip — she must think you are a complete idiot now, well done, you thought.

“For the group project,” she clarified, “would you like to work with me? If you are not already with someone else, of course,” she said, but it was only to sound polite. Despite what you may think, Natasha Romanoff knows you, and she knows that you are a lonely soul, never heard, hardly seen — You may be discreet, but not enough to escape her observant gaze.

Even though it was the third time she had asked the question, you detected no trace of impatience in her tone, no judgment in her eyes, just a certain.. expectation, but you could not tell for what reason.

“Ar-,” — you sure? You wanted to ask, but you swallow the words before you can say them, replacing them by a simple nod. “Yes,” you blurted out the word, your voice being so high-pitched that you winced with embarrassment for a moment. “I mean.. I do not have a partner yet, and I would love to work with you,” you clarified, trying to control your voice, but your excitement hadn’t gone unnoticed by the redhead, nor did the slight tremble of your hands, and she was now smirking — because you looked like you were about to explode, and maybe you were, for real. “My name is-” 

“I know,” she cut you off as she filled in the sheet that was being passed through the rows, writing your name without any hesitation, without a mistake. “Did I write it right?” She asked with feigned care. She already knew that she got it right, and she is not surprised when you nod — she could not say the same about you, though. 

You may belong to two completely different worlds in appearance, one barely existing, always in her sole company, the other always surrounded, her presence hard to ignore. And yet, from the very first lessons, Natasha had found something endearing about you, waiting for the opportunity to approach you without frightening you — and she knew she was not the only one whose gaze you caught.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Before that evening, the two women had never spoken of you — nor had they ever spoken to you — and you were like a half-confessed secret floating between them, because despite their respective silence, they knew each other too well to not know the truth.

Wanda could see the smile on Natasha’s lips whenever she was coming out of her language classes that, as luck would have it, you had chosen too. And Natasha for sure noticed the sparke in Wanda’s eyes when they landed on you in the corridors, always lingering a little longer than they should on your silhouette.

But they had never been brave enough to put into words what they were feeling, and this desire continued to grow little by little in their hearts. Out of respect, they told themselves, to not admit that it was out of fear — that they would mess everything up.

You were from a very different world. The two women were popular, and all it took was a smile and a few pretty words to get any girl into their bed. Girls who did not care about being a one-night stand, who lived for it, but they could tell that you were not one of them. You were reserved, and solitary, and by the way your fingers trembled and your words tangled at the slightest conversation, they guessed you took things too personally to be satisfied with a one-night stand — you needed time, and attachment.

But they were not sure they would be able to give you what you needed. Their relationship was complicated, messy, it was in their image and that suited them — or almost. And then, out of fear of ruining their chances by taking the first step too soon, or doing things the wrong way, they kept their desires a secret, observing you from afar, pretending it satisfied them. 

Until that night.

From the moment they were dared by their friends to choose a target for their twisted game, your name had been on their minds — it has been evident. And so, despite the initial desire not to disturb your tranquility, they made you their prey. Their judgment had probably been impaired by the few — many — drinks they already had that night, but the cheers of their friends quickly cleared their doubts.

They could have chosen someone else — they should have — there were so many girls who envied them, who wouldn’t have minded being the object of a bet — but where was the fun in that? You were different, you were unreachable, always slipping through their fingers, never exchanging more than a few hesitant words with them, or the others. 

You always left class the instant the bell rang, never leaving your headphones, and music quickly became your only company to the point where it discouraged any of your classmates from trying to bond with you. 

If the women did not know any better, they would have assumed that you were content with your situation, but they had never missed the hint of sadness — and jealousy — that clouded your gaze whenever your eyes landed on the others — nor they had missed the desire in it when you were watching them, thinking they would not notice.

But they always did.

Something in your attitude made them want to wrap their arms around you, to protect you — and to love you — even though they barely know who you are. It is a foreign feeling they had never felt before, not even with each other, their love taking on something completely different, something rougher. 

And maybe that is why the two women did not think about the harm this little game could cause, because for a few hours, under the effects of alcohol, they had forgotten how different your world was from theirs, how much more fragile. 

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

It is only a few days after you first met the redhead that you eventually came across the second one, Wanda, and for a long time you thought that your meeting had been nothing more than a happy — very happy — coincidence.

At that moment, you were at the library working on some of your assignments, or more realistically regretting some of your materials choices — How could a Sokovian language class for beginners be so complicated? A few months ago, it had sounded like an interesting choice, and you had then been thrilled by the possibility of learning a new language. But you soon understood why so few people chose this class; while it sounded appealing on paper, it was nothing less than a nightmare to study.

Despite trying your best, you were piling up the difficulties, falling behind, and you were not sure you would ever be able to catch up, even if they gave you years to do so. The letters and their sounds, the words and their meanings, everything was mixed in your mind, forming an indecipherable mass of information.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when she approached your table. At this point, it was not about studying the material or getting your exercises done anymore, it was about pushing these thoughts away, those which attempted to drag you down, to encourage you to give up — because what is even the point of putting so much energy into something you are going to fail, as everything else you do? 

It is only when she waved her hand in front of your eyes that you noticed her presence, and it took you a few long seconds before you recognized her face.

“Y- yeah?” You stuttered, scrambling to remove your headphones.

“May I sit there? All the seats are taken,” she explained softly, a disappointed pout spreading across her face as she talks. And, unable to refuse — and certainly not wanting to — you hurriedly retrieve your belongings to make room for the brunette. 

What you ignored is that her words were not completely true. While most of the tables were in fact taken, Wanda was not actually looking for a seat. She was already on her way out when she saw you, but it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up — Especially since Natasha had already taken the lead in their little game, and she hated to lose. 

But maybe you should have said no, because from the moment she sat down, you have been unable to concentrate on your work. All your thoughts were directed to the woman, especially since you could feel her gaze on you as she watched what you were doing.

If her gaze was filled with curiosity, you could not help but imagine judgment in it — What would she think of you if you wrote something really wrong and really stupid? Suddenly, your breathing was a little faster, your hands clammy, forcing you to readjust your grip on your pen several times, and your mind too foggy to be able to do more than pretending to be thinking.

Why did you say yes, already? 

Partially because you didn’t know how to say no, mainly because you were so delirious that a part of you was hoping to become friends with the woman, exactly like in fiction where the most beautiful relationships were starting with insignificant, unexpected encounters. It was stupid, and you were perfectly aware of that, already regretting your choice — You should have lied, it wouldn't have been that hard, would it? But the words came too late to your mind, and you were now stuck with that girl until one of you decided to leave.

The minutes stretched until they seemed interminable, as if the seconds had stopped ticking. None of you were doing anything, and she hadn’t even bothered to — or at least pretend to — mind her own business, never taking out her notebooks, never letting her eyes leave your worksheets for a minute. 

When she finally spoke, you looked at her with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. If you didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, you could still recognize them as Sokovian — And by the way she pointed to your sheet while talking, you guessed she had seen every one of your mistakes. 

But she had not been mean about it, and even the smirk she wore was not mischievous, just very frustrating as you would learn later. The girl — Wanda, as she will let you know in a few minutes — even kindly offered you a little help, probably out of pity, which you tried to refuse. But your lies were not very convincing. 

“That’s nice, but I am doing just fine,” you replied, your words sounding a little harsher than they did in your head. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, her smile not faltering. 

“Are you sure?” She asked back, tilting her head slightly to the side. But she already knew the answer, you both did, and it was no surprise that you eventually admitted that you in fact needed a little help with your lessons. 

“Actually, no,” you conceded, and the chuckle that escaped her lips was so infectious that you forgot your own embarrassment for a moment, a soft laugh escaping yours too.

And if at first you felt bad about accepting her help, that feeling quickly faded as a routine set in. At least twice a week, the two of you would meet at the library so she could help with your language lessons — And damn, you really needed this help. Surprisingly, the woman never lost her patience, and even when you thought she would hate you for making her repeat the same thing dozens of times, she did not, always remaining benevolent.

You appreciated these moments more than you would admit it. Wanda’s presence was breaking your loneliness a bit, even though you were not sure if you two could be considered as friends since you’ve never met outside of the library’s walls.

“Why does it have to be so difficult?” You mumble, and these are the words that usually conclude your sessions, marking the moment when you despair overcomes your determination. Most of the time, they are accompanied by a groan as you lean dramatically on the table, knowing it would make her laugh. A sound you loved to hear because it made your heart beat like never before. A sweet, warm feeling that spreads through your whole being. 

At that point, she always whispers the same words that you can’t understand. And whenever you ask her about their meaning, she refuses to give you the answer. “It will give you a reason to study,” is the response she gives you every time. And as she talks, there is that unnerving smirk dancing at the corner of her lips. 

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Since you have met the women, something has shifted in your attitude. It was nothing obvious, but it was still enough for them to notice. You were a bit more confident, sometimes even initiating contact with them instead of dodging their eyes. and you let in a glimpse of yourself you'd usually kept hidden. More relaxed, less withdrawn.

And you felt it too, this change.  

The past few weeks, the fear that used to knot your insides had been replaced by a kind of enthusiasm. It was driven by the fact that you knew you would see them whenever you were at university, and even though you were not talking much with them outside of your work sessions, you were looking forward to crossing their paths. The women always had a smile or a lingering hand to spare, and these small gestures meant everything to you as they never failed to make your days much better than they were.

Honestly, if you haven’t yet seen any of them outside university, it was mainly your fault. Despite how great everything was going, there was still this lingering fear you couldn’t get rid off — It was this voice. The one that never failed to remind you how much people must hate you, how much you hated yourself. And it was always here to remind you that the women will dump you at your first mistake, because it is sure you will end up making one. You always do, ending up ruining all the good things you were given. 

Studying at the library with Wanda, or working on your group project in a coffee shop with Natasha, it was easy, familiar and you knew how to do it without messing it up. So every time they have tried to propose something different — and damn, they have tried so many times — you’ve come up with an excuse, always being too busy to do anything else than studying.

In reality, the only thing you have been busy with was drowning in your own thoughts. Despite how well things were going with them, you were still not sure if you could really be friends, let alone being more, as your delusional mind liked to hope sometimes.  

They are popular, and so are their friends. They go to parties every Thursday, where they probably drink and smoke. They do not worry about everything, and are not scared by everyone. They are pretty, funny, and confident. In other words, these people were everything you were not. They knew how to live, something you did not, and you knew they would notice that you weren’t like them the moment you would meet — And what if they judge you for that? What if they do not like you? Or worse, what if they talk about it with Wanda and Natasha, and the women eventually realize how lame you are ? 

But tonight had been different, because this time you had said yes to them — more specifically to the redhead. When she told you she was having a party at her place, you were ready to decline before she even got a chance to finish her sentence. Yet, this time, Natasha had refused to take no for an answer, and after several long minutes of trying to convince — and reassure — you, you eventually agreed. But it was only after she told you — multiple times — that it wasn’t really a party, only a small gathering with a few friends to celebrate the end of the exams.

A choice you were now regretting. 

You have never felt so out of place than the moment you walked through that door, entering a universe that was foreign to you — Natasha and you definitely didn’t have the same definition of a “small gathering.” When you didn’t immediately see the redhead, the thought of leaving crossed your mind because it suddenly felt impossible. Until then, you knew the steps you had to follow perfectly — choosing an outfit, coming there, not too late but not too early, bringing a little something — but now? 

Now, you were not sure, and this uncertainty was already gnawing at you — Should you send her a message? But what if she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to stay with you all night? Should you get yourself a drink? 

The weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing second, but the moment your eyes met hers, it was gone. You weren’t aware of it, but she saw you the moment you entered the room. You had this ability to absorb all her concentration, to the point where she wasn’t listening to the conversation she was engaged in anymore.

You hadn’t planned what happened in the following hours. It just happened, one event after another, and you just let it happen. At the same time, after a drink, or two — or maybe three — you weren't really able to think anymore. This too, you didn’t foresee. But you have been unable to refuse the glasses that some people kept handing you, a part of your actions being driven by the desire to be like them, or at least pretend to be for one night.

“I think you had more than enough for tonight, malyshka,” she intervened at some point, fetching the drink someone was handing you before you could grab it.

“Noo,” you whined in response. The redhead may was right, but the action still felt really unfair in the moment, and you couldn’t help but pout as you witnessed your drink being taken away. “Please, just one last more, I promise I am perfectly fine,” you tried to argue, but nothing you could say would change her mind, and you understood it when the only answer she gave you was a negative nod of the head. “You are not fair!” You grumbled. 

“Life never is,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips — One that was frustrating but terribly endearing at the same time. One that was atrociously close to Wanda’s, the two women having more in common than they might admit. “Come on,” she eventually added, grabbing your arm as she was talking.

“Where?” You immediately asked, refusing to follow the woman, almost fighting her grip. “I don’t wanna leave,” you whined, and this time her eyes went up to the sky — You may be adorable, but you were also being damn annoying when drunk.

“We are not leaving, I promise,” she sighed, “I have something I wanna show you,... a secret,” she added, lowering her voice. The woman knew exactly what words to use to convince you to follow. 

Throughout the walk, one of her hands rested on your lower back, probably because she didn’t want you to get lost — Or to run away. A thought that was really tempting right now. And it was a good thing that she was there to catch you when you got your feet caught. not because of the drinks, but because you were too focused on her than where you were walking. 

You could not help but stare, but observe every detail of her face. Your eyes traveled up her jawline, lingering on her lips for a moment too long before tracing the bridge of her nose to these eyes, topped by slightly frowning eyebrows, an expression she often wore when she was focused on something. 

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurted out at some point, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even realize it. By the time you do, it is already too late to take them back, and you can’t help but blush under the redhead’s gaze. Fierce, and full of something you couldn’t name — Hunger, desire. Things no one has ever felt towards you in the past.

In reality, the look of surprise on Natasha’s face was — at least partly — feigned. The women already knew about your attraction to her, you weren’t exactly as discreet as you had imagined. Yet, she hadn’t expected you to be so direct about it when you would eventually reveal your feelings for her, you who were usually so reserved, and shy. But the alcohol probably helped loosen your tongue. 

“Do you?” She asked, but she already knows the answer, and before you can even nod or mutter some excuses, you are pushed against the corridor walls. 

The music from the party was still playing loudly but you could barely hear it, the sound covered by the one of your heart pounding in your ears. You had expected the woman to react in a lot of different ways, but never this one. In the thousands of scenarios that had been created by your mind, never one had involved anything other than rejection — Instant, and disgusted. 

The possibility that she might feel the same way you do seemed unreal. You were too used to being invisible, not enough to being seen, and desired. It was something new and foreign, and it made you feel like you were about to die on the spot — But at the same time it was the best thing you had ever felt.

“Then I must give you what you want, printsessa,” she whispered, and even before she leaned in so her lips could meet yours, she was so closed that you could feel her breath brushing against your face.

God, she has waited so long for this moment, unable to take the first step because she was afraid she would mess everything up, afraid that the relationship she has built with you over the past weeks would crumble — Because kissing you means that the bait is over, and she is not sure she wants it to be. Because it has never truly been about this stupid game.

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

| Tag list —

[spectral-phases]

I need people to stop getting so precious about Clark "not letting" Bruce kill the Joker after Jason’s death post-Crisis. Everyone acts like it was like this:

But it was more:

So, we all know the story. Actually. Wait. Maybe we don't. So. The story beneath the cut.

Jason got benched as being Robin because he was not dealing well with his parents' deaths, felt like he was no longer wanted because he was adopted specifically to be Robin (and Bruce is shit at making his kids feel loved a lot of times). Jason discovered the woman who raised him was his step mother, not his bio mother. He goes looking for bio mom. Finds bio mom, she hugs him and tells him she's missed him so much, Bruce contemplates letting Jason live with his family if that would make him happier despite being obviously cut up about the idea of losing Jason. Bio mom is being extorted by the Joker to let him ship out Joker Venom disguised as medical supplies because he can't just steal the supplies and sell them. Bruce has to go stop the shipment of Joker Venom, his portable chopper is too small for two, so Jason is left behind. Jason is told to wait, but The Killing Joke just happened and his bio mom is alone with the Joker (who is insane, capricious and evil), so, obviously he has to save his mother and could not wait. Bio Mom is outside, no guards, Jason says, "Hey, I'm actually Robin, I'm here to save you from the Joker" and she says "Nah, he's actually gone, so I'm fine. But let's go inside so I can grab my things and we can leave." Her things turn out to be a gun to point at Jason after leading him to the Joker. Jason is too stunned to move. The Joker and his goons beat Jason up and then the Joker uses the crowbar to finish beating him to a presumed death. His bio mom at some point couldn't bear to watch it anymore and turns around to smoke a cigarette. Once Joker’s done, bio mom asks what they're going to do about Batman, and the Joker is all "oh. Yeah, lol. Probably was a bad idea to kill his kid. Whoops. My bad." And then ties up the bio mom to kill her and erase any evidence he brutally attacked/killed Jason. The Joker sets a bomb on a timer and leaves. Jason uses the last of his strength to untie his bio mom so she can escape. He can't see well enough to try and disarm the bomb. She tries to get them both out. The door is locked. Jason shields her as the bomb goes off, but she dies just as Batman comes up and tells him the Joker did it, calls Jason a hero, says he deserved a better mother (he did) but does not/is unable to own up to her part in Jason’s death before dying herself. Bruce finds Jason’s body and is fucking devastated.

So after that, Bruce chases the Joker down to the UN because the Joker lucked into being a diplomat for Iran and is now meeting at the UN assembly in New York. Bruce is 100% set on doing a premeditated murder of the Joker for Jason. The US government is aware of this. They hire Superman to grab Batman to try and talk him down because the Joker has diplomatic immunity for past crimes. It does not go well.

"That’s the law, not Justice." Batman is 100% still going to kill the Joker. Everyone knows. Superman knows. Superman says the stupid thing is putting vengeance above the interests of the country, not killing Joker.

Batman sneaks into the Joker’s room, and the Joker (forgetting his earlier desire to not get fucking killed by Batman) is like "oh man, I wish I could have seen your face when you found his body" and further needles Bruce with a "Or are you here to thank me for getting rid of him for you?" Making Bruce triple down on killing the Joker.

"Your confirming it makes what I have to do a lot easier."

Bruce manages to get in to observe the UN meeting as Bruce Wayne. Superman is disguised as a guard. Bruce is seething, watching the Joker, knowing that is the guy who killed Jason.

"I should have terminated his vile existence years ago. But I didn't. I couldn't. His insanity gained him a stay of execution. But no longer. ... Jason’s dead."

They both know the Joker is too stupid and lacks the impulse control needed to not attack the UN and immediately lose his immunity, which is the only thing keeping him alive. Joker releases Joker Venom to kill the delegates. Superman super breathes to inhale all the gas, which he's immune to because he's Superman and then says this as he leaves to go find a place to release the poison gas safely.

"Batman, he's all yours."

Superman basically says "You can kill him now" because he knows Batman’s mind has not changed, and Superman had not once tried to say "killing Joker would be wrong" just that it couldn't happen before the Joker acted in a way that lost him his immunity.

And Bruce does go to do just that. He chases the Joker down, intent to kill, and jumps onto the helicopter the Joker is using to escape. One of the guys fires at Batman. It shoots the pilot, hits the Joker in damn near his heart, if not his heart, and Batman realizes the helicopter is going down and decides to jump and leave the Joker behind. He intends for the Joker to die in the crash.

Okay? Bruce was 100% going to kill the Joker for killing Jason. Superman said "hang on. Let him get enough rope to hang himself first and then you can do it." And then Joker only survived because comic books. And Bruce is unhappy about having to wait. Superman did not try to talk Bruce out of killing the Joker at all ever, or scold him for wanting to kill the Joker. (Don't say he was rescuing the Joker in that last panel. The next panel is Superman fishing Batman, who is shot in the arm, from the harbor, and Batman telling Superman to go find the body. Find the body! And Superman does go to do just that, but is unable to).

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[jeonjcngkook]

JUNGKOOK 2023 calvin klein fall campaign

[pickledsprite]

I saw “concert” as the prompt and I started giggling to myself

CMOONNN I HAD TOOOO😭😭

[rivalkieran]

why couldn't I get one of the normal dexholders to be my faves girl who the hell is lacktwo

[fightxer]

VERY late but here is my spe Gala 2024 art for Green!!!! also Dante idk ur tumblr but they did Red !!

Green’s outfit is inspired by his Psyduck and how he uses him to travel the ocean in a way that looks like surfing! also his glove is red to match Red’s glove which is green! the same hands they hold! they also have matching gold bracelets to symbolize when they had to train with the old lady during frlg

[trashyyourlocaltrashbag]

Happy early birthday to Yellow Pokéspe we all cheer 🎉🎉

[surreal-duck]

moon for the pksp masquerade event ^^

[diana-andraste]

Self-portrait in costume, Maria Spes Bartoli, c. 1920