#still would watch this

[lazylittledragon]

some domestic shadowlachs <33

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[humming-fly]

I love how Gerald was trying to keep Shadow from spoiling anything about the future meanwhile literally everything Shadow says and does around Maria is the biggest death flag ever

[elexuscal]

Danny Phantom, The Show:

geeky kid gets super powers from his parents' weird inventions! now he has to fight a rogue gallery of ghosts... but uh-oh! he still has to keep his grades up, deal with his embarrassing parents, and navigate girl troubles! rap theme song!

Danny Phantom, the Fandom, After 19 Years of Fermentation:

a child dies. but not quite. the inherent tension between life and death. the obsession of the dead for faded remnants of the living. warped green shadows on the walls of a dark laboratory. having to hide your true nature from those who should be your greatest allies. the fear of the monster you could become if you let yourself. being a ghost as a metaphor for the trans experience. a cold breath on the back of your neck in the dead of the night. rap theme song!

[bioethicists]

every time a new SA allegation of a favored celeb arises, i'm reminded of the absolutely soul-crushing experience of the depp/heard trial in which i learned that dozens of ppl i loved + respected + trusted were also willing to engage in the basest form of misogyny if the woman Seemed Crazy Enough. there was a horrifying 2ish weeks on this website + much longer irl where i genuinely felt unsafe voicing my discomfort as i relived something eerily reminiscent of the aftermath of my own assaults playing out on screen, commented on by true crime youtubers like it was a red sox game.

it happens time + time again with every new allegation + it's truly the most agonizing + exhausting part of being a survivor. i am begging you all to consider that survivors are watching you engage with this stuff like theater + it erodes our trust in all of you + compounds our grief.

[botanicalbasilly]

I hate being a person who loves bugs, I can't say anything without the person I'm talking to reacting with disgust. Today I had to literally beg a coworker for the life of a spider, and then after I put it in a nook outside she thought it'd be funny to show me a video she took of her killing one. Like idk man. Birds scare the shit out of me but I still get why people love them. They come in pretty colors and they sound nice and they're interesting to observe. I don't understand why people don't feel the same about bugs. The rich amber color of a cockroach, the iridescent glow of a fly, the intricate hydraulics that power their little legs, the chirp of a beetle, the art of the spider's web... It's all so beautiful. Why is it the habit of so many to destroy?

[hinamie]

ṇ̵̛̱͌̅̃͛̔o̴̮̓̀͂́̃_̴̛̲́s̷͈̋̈́̄̋͠ị̶͔̗̐͐̐̒̕g̵̛̱̘̣̑͂ņ̴̰͔̘͇̏̒̓̇͠͝a̸̜̥̩̭͋̌ḷ̶͔̖͗͋͛͛̃͆

[elizabro]

please consider how you engage with aaron bushnell's death. you may react to it as you will, but it's crucial to remember that his death was specifically a call to action. it was not meant solely to shock but to draw attention to a vast moral hypocrisy: that to many, a soldier dying in a campaign backed by the U.S. government is noble, even if the soldier kills innocents to do so, even if the cause is morally bankrupt--but this? this is insanity. a man taking his own life, on his own terms, in an attempt to help others while hurting nobody else, is somehow less rational and more horrifying than the mass killing of civilians.

of course aaron's death was horrific. but as he said beforehand, it is realistically no more horrific than what's happening in gaza. if we can't stomach this, then why can we stomach children being bombed? thousands being starved? for all that self immolation is, it brings death in a matter of minutes. it is a fraction of the amount of pain, fear, and grief that people in gaza are experiencing. it's just that we are able to quantify it. and this tiny, quantifiable sliver of horror is still so unbelievably awful. how can anyone bear to think about anything else when this horror is happening a millionfold in palestine? this is the question aaron bushnell was asking. and he wanted you to face it, head-on, watching him burn to death.

I've been seeing people make fanart. minimalist graphics to sell on t-shirts. to commodify his death, to mythologize it not a day afterwards, is not only in poor taste but a hindrance to his message. the answer is not commodification, nor is it defeatism, nor is it rejoicing in his death. if you want to honor aaron's legacy, take action. channel your horror and your outrage into making a material change. this wasn't about him. this was about palestine. remember that it was always about palestine.

[twilight-zoned-out]

Learning about the Doctor Who specials' expanded budget: oh no, what if they overuse CGI to look more 'professional' and high-budget?

The first scene of the Doctor Who Special:

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[m0rdred-the-fallen]

Disney needs to hire you right now OP

Modern Howlies

Okay, I know it’s really unlikely and unrealistic and what not but I don’t care

Just imagine: The Howling Commandos alive in modern times. Not through science or serums or cryofreeze, those stubborn assholes just won’t die. They are mildly crotchety old men who wave canes at family reunions and play bingo on weekends and still try to be involved with espionage whenever possible because their retirement home is just so BORING. (Whenever possible is limited to when Gabe and Peggy’s grandson Antoine and their niece Sharon bring them little pieces of ‘classified’ information and asking for advice, and it’s a far cry from their commando days but it’s something so they’ll take it. One more game of scrabble and someone is getting punched) (yes they are all in the same retirement home. Practically attached at the hips they are, especially now that most of the families have spread and moved onto their own lives.)

Then one day Sharon comes in, jittery and more excited than they’ve ever seen her and tells them that They. Found. Cap! Alive! That night the nurses find out that 90 year olds can still be as rowdy as twenty year olds if they are excited enough.

Golden haired fucker doesn’t visit them till after aliens invade New York and for that Dernier repeatedly sacks him upside the head with his cane when he does finally come. (They’d never missed being in the action so much as when they had to watch Cap on the tv, fighting fucking aliens without them to watch his six. And maybe they are a little jealous of these Avengers, but sue them, he was their Captain first.)

All is well, though the rest home gets a few interesting stories because even now they can convince Steve to do some ridiculous shit if they push hard enough. It’s entirely worth the property damage to see him grinning like he hasn’t since before Sarge fell. (And that’s still a gaping wound in all of them, especially now when they are almost all together again. But it’ll never be all of them because Bucky is never coming back)

Then DC happens and they see SHIELD fall on the news (HYDRA, fucking HYDRA the whole damn time and Gabe grips his chair so hard his knuckles turn white because where are Antione and Sharon, are they okay?) and most importantly they see a dead man trying to kill Steve and what the fucking FUCK!?

SARGE!?

WHAT THE HELL SARGE!?

Then hydra’s Intel hits the web and well.

Now it’s war. (It was before, but y'know. Fucking personal now, that’s their Sarge)

So they pour over every piece of Intel they can get their hands on (which is everything the black widow put out their because they may be old but they are the god damn Howling Commandos and their captain and their Sargent need them) and they pull up bases for Cap to tear apart. On her good days Peggy is on the phone helping them and it’s almost like old days and it’s the most purposeful they’ve felt in years

But their most important mission is finding Bucky and bringing him home. And like hell they are sitting this one out. Fuck that, that’s their boy out there somewhere. So they get their leads, they fear up as best they can and they set out. It really does feel like they old days then. Dugan still wears that damn hat and he still has that fucking mustauche. Monty still wears his beret and Dernier still shouldn’t be allowed near explosives (or maybe he should, if you ask Dugan his opinion.) and speaks mostly in French so he and Gabe can have private conversations just to annoy the others. Peggy makes them promise to bring him to visit her when they find him and sends along a letter addressed to Sargent Barnes of the Howling Commandos.

It takes a while, and Steve rants at them to get back to the home before something happens nearly every day on the phone but sorry cap technically we don’t need to take orders anymore, but finally they find him in some old safe house that really is a house in Europe.

Bucky looks out his window one day and see a group of old men standing on the walk staring at him and just feels confusion and familiarity and then - are those the men from the museum? Yes, yes they are! Holy shit it’s the fucking commandos! How are they here, they are ancient, what the fuck guys!?

He sneaks out the back and the chase begins.

They follow him across Europe yelling at him to come home every time they get close no matter who is around (to damn old for this shit, get your punk ass home you little fuck, don’t give a damn who can hear us) and Dernier keeps lecturing him in French. They nearly choke on their coffee the first time he responds in perfect French, something snarky and oh so Bucky and the fucker takes that opportunity to disappear into the crowd. Asshole.

There are close calls and sarcasm and somewhere along the line Morita shanks somebody and Gabe beans a hydra agent over the head with an IV pole and Dugan knocks another one out with his walker.

Just, ninety something year old howlies chasing Bucky across Europe and despite his winter soldier training managing to keep getting the drop on him.

[starbuck]

reading and watching “classic” books and films is such an interesting experience because, before you get into them, when you only know them by name and maybe the vaguest plot outline, they’re intimidating and stuffy and up on a pedestal, but then you finally take the leap and check them out and realize that almost every story that’s achieved such a legendary level of popularity did so because something in its emotional core reached out and grabbed a lot of people by the throat and you are NOT immune.

[stemmmm]

if you havent read my wife's gf fanfic WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!

(no sound)

[beif0ngs]

everyone on tumblr @Buggy the 🤡 right now 

[s0fter-sin]

alpha!ghost who's always hated the sound of an omega's purr; he’s always found it patronising, manipulative, an attempt to twist his biology - twist him - into submission like he's some animal

until he hears soap purr for the first time and it's about as choppy and comforting as a machine gun. there's nothing smooth about it, nothing seductive or wily; it's broken and guttural and the most honest noise ghost's ever heard outside his own growls

he doesn't use it to coo him into complacency, doesn't try to bend him to his will or smooth over his bristles. he's never tried to distract ghost from his anger, never used his intrinsic control over him to gentle him. hell, he seems to forget he can even do it, ghost hears it so rarely. it's only a touch above his growls, subharmonic and demanding attention instead of the pretty titter of a pampered omega

ghost hears it for the first time when he’s covered in blood not his, after he slits an enemy pinning him down from navel to chin; dark blood instantly soaking him. the body’s practically cool with blood loss already when he tosses it aside and rolls to his feet to find soap stock still, staring at him with a feral gleam in his eyes

he drops his jaw with a deep inhale, rolling the scent of blood and pissed alpha pheromones in his mouth and his chest rumbles with all the subtlety of a chainsaw

it's suddenly all ghost can do to keep himself from dragging the body and dropping it at soap's feet like a courting gift of old; to carve out his heart and rich organs and present them for his approval, to hold them to his mouth and never break eye contact as he takes his first bloody bite

ghost shakes it off, strangling the chuff trying to claw out his throat, and heads for the rv point and feels absolutely nothing when soap falls into step behind him without a word; his purr that more closely mimics an alpha's rumble an echoing memory

soap's far from a meek, compliant omega and he's no conniving prince wrapping alphas around his finger either; he's just as much a protector, an aggressor, as any alpha. he's never been ashamed of his instincts; never shied away from nuzzling into price's throat, purring for his pack alpha with no regard to the uncomfortable crowd surrounding them. never hesitates to wrap gaz up and drop him in his nest when the beta reeks of stress and sickly insomnia

and he never stops himself from baring his fangs with a guttural hiss whenever another omega dares to purr at ghost

it's a threat and a warning in one; something only the most foolish omega would ignore. he knows ghost has a complex relationship with omegas, knows it isn't something so pathetic as biological prejudice. something about omegas makes his lt's scent go flat and steely, as close to distress as he thinks he can manage and it makes something dark and old rise in his chest

territorial rage broils off him, strong enough to make the omega whine and back off with their tail between their legs without even taking a step towards them. the scent is sour and pungent enough to drown out ghost's subtle distressed smell, to hide it, and it makes him snort; shaking his head to try and clear it

soap all but trots up beside him, chirping in greeting. he sneezes playfully, lets him know the rage scent wasn't for him; never for him. he replaces it with happy-friend-pack, replaces it with nitroglycerin and burning sparklers and butts his forehead against his sternum instead of crowding into his throat and purring the way he wants to

he earned his way into ghost's pack, into becoming an omega not just accepted but welcomed and he won't jeopardise his hard won progress by pushing his purr on him

he lifts his head and grins as ghost cups his nape in a faux-scruff, something offensive and borderline taboo and if he were anyone else, he'd rip his hand off with his teeth. but it's ghost and ghost does strange things, things that reassure him on a deeper level than any purr or chirp could ever hope to, so soap presses into his gentling hand and bares his teeth in the thinnest facsimile of a smile at the retreating omega

all ghost has to do is aim him in the right direction and he'd bring the omega back to him in pieces; would gift him their torn out throat so they could never purr at him again

his chest rumbles subconsciously and soap gnashes his teeth, forcing his purr back down when ghost squeezes his nape

he thumps his temple into his and a puff of air tickles his ear, the closest thing soap's ever heard to a chuff from him and he couldn't stop his purr if he tried; choppy and broken as it is

you inhale enough explosive fumes and it's bound to damage something

ghost huffs again and soap presses up to nibble appeasingly at his clothed jaw, a question and an apology in each bite

ghost just takes the tip of his ear between his teeth, shaking it with a teasing growl and soap laughs as he tackles him just for ghost to bow over his back and wrap his arms around his waist; effortlessly picking him up and tossing him away

soap stays low and growls right back, a wild smile splitting his face. ghost meets him with a sneeze and his grin grows impossibly wider

if he can't hunt for his alpha, can't purr for him with blood on his teeth, he'll happily wrestle with him instead

[mothfulhansel]

once long ago i had a dream where people kept pissing me off but every time i got angry they would smooch me on the forehead and it was so sweet and unexpected i just immediately forgot how was i even angry i decided to project it into Zoro and Sanji