#they will come back i swear-

[sopuu]

HAPPY LET PAPYRUS SAY FUCK DAY 🎉

[audio source]

[thefrsers]

#soulmates fr😭

[demaparbat-hp]

Would you ever share a piece of Lu Ten and Zuko having tea together in Zuko’s quarter’s? I think it would heal a part of me that was savagely destroyed as soon as I read the first chapter of For The Spirits.

There you are, Spitfire! I’ve been waiting for you!

Sorry I’m late.

A story of two (For the Spirits doesn't know how to heal—not yet).

[rubydubydoo122]

Something I was Batman fans to Understand is that Jason ACTS Angry when he's Scared. It's a trauma response from the streets. If he showed he was scared he would've been dead.

When Jason is Angry though. If he's truly angry, and we see this throughout UTRH and Lost Days, If he's angry, he steeps in it.

Come closer.

He's not a Bull when he's angry, he's calculated when he's angry. He's a Bull when he's scared. He's Angry when he's Scared.

Obviously some comics aren't going to show that, because of how many writers there've been and favorite characters and such, but 'Death in the Family' and the last pannel of 'The Diplomat's son' is a good representation of Angry when Scared. 'Lost Days' is AMAZING with the angry when scared because when Talia shows him that he's been replaced, he's apathetic, and then goes to another room and starts crying. When he learns the Joker's still alive he starts trashing the room

Under the Red Hood is Jason's prime example of calculating while Angry, BECAUSE THAT ENTIRE PLAN!!! It was very well thought out and very well executed up until the final confrontation.

Robin!Jason not letting Alfred or Bruce see how upset he was that His father died is a perfect mix of both, because grief is a fickle thing.

ALSO! LETS SAY THIS TOGETHER PIT MADNESS IS NOT REAL

there are a lot of comics tho where I think the writers either hated Jason or didn't know what to do with him, so don't bring those up.

[hualianschild]

[daenystheedreamer]

[jubshead]

Let me brag cause I've been saying this since her episode

[violent138]

Bruce has a habit of randomly worrying about his kids and silently lurking in their room until he's done being insane. This usually happens mid prolonged argument or after an incident on patrol that he thinks could've gone much worse.

It would be sweet, if he hadn't raised his kids to be just as paranoid as he is, making them shoot awake every time to see to their Batdad sleep paralysis demon.

[btd-forcemasc]

This is a reminder that your body is your own. Crafted by a sequence of universes combining into one.

You are miracle of biology with every breath you take. But please don’t forget that it is a vessel.

Break it in. Modify yourself beyond recognition.

Find what it likes and what it hates. Maybe it craves the itch of new hair growing? Or the feeling of a clean face slightly burning with aftershave?

Do prefer the prick of a needle or the cold coating of gel? Calloused hands from hard work or soft like the silk of a suit? You don’t know? Want me to show you?

Then down.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Not a Francis hater, not a Francis apologist, but a secret third thing (watching him be a fucked up little freak and enjoying the show 🍿)

[novicedraws]

I'm so normal about them

[moonyflesh]

behind the scenes of Saw - (2004), starring Cary Elwes as “(Doctor) Lawrence Gordon”, Leigh Whanell as “Adam Stanheight”, and Tobin Bell as “John Kramer”.

((HAPPY JAMES WAN SUMMER!))

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Evolution of Eliot/Hardison hugs over the years.

And the one time that Eliot really needed a hug:

Leverage S02E08/S03E10/S04E01/S04E07/S04E10/S05E09/Leverage Redemption S01E16/S02E06.

[moonstainn]

Very quick wolfstar doodles 🌕⭐

[ninjigma]

QuinObi Week Part 3/5 - First / Previous / Next

Day 3: “Shut Up” Kiss Track: 'Saving Grace' - Kodaline (Spotify / YouTube)

Quinlan was rambling about something or other to do with saving Obi-Wan’s ass, but Obi-Wan knew it was more a deflection of his worry. It didn’t exactly stop him from spiralling though, and after a few minutes of half exhausted quips in between Quinlan’s panic, Obi-Wan decided he was too tired and too relieved and too happy at seeing Quinlan to let him go on any longer. And besides, he did owe Quin a thank you for saving his ass.

Enjoy!

@quinobiweek

[s0fter-sin]

the 141 recovering brainwashed!soap but he’s just a shell of his former self; never speaking, never moving without orders. he never even blinks; just stares straight ahead with his unnatural green eyes.

empty.

but ghost can't accept that.

price and gaz can't stand watching ghost torture himself day after day; visiting soap in his cell for hours at a time, trying anything he can think of to bring back his sergeant.

he shows him pictures of the 141 but soap thinks he's being given targets and moves to eliminate them before ghost stops him. he brings him his journal, tries to trigger his innermost thoughts and feelings he never shared with any of them, but after he reads it, soap summarises it like he's giving a mission briefing. impersonal.

cold.

it's late when ghost finally calls it; low and defeated after another long day of being stared at with eyes that don't see him. he isn't thinking when he pulls his mask off and harshly scrubs over his face, grinding his palm into his eye.

"don't worry, johnny; we're still fixin' each other's problems," he promises, little more than a whisper as he tries to summon the energy to leave johnny behind. again.

he pushes himself to his feet, his hand on the door handle when-

"what's my problem?"

ghost freezes, something like grief - something achingly closer to hope - chilling him. he slowly turns and though soap is still starring ahead, there's a faint light in his altered green eyes.

"the mask," he forces out. "take it off."

he knows there's no way to remove the mask - the muzzle - from his sergeant's face. it's too high-tech, even for them; the biometric scanner too advanced for any bypass they know of.

it's just another way he's failed him; bringing him home still bound in their enemy's chains.

soap- jolts; a sharp, almost painful looking flinch jerking his body.

"show my face?" and his voice has changed; no longer the monotone delivery that's haunted ghost's every waking moment.

it's smaller. uncertain. recollection of a memory half-destroyed.

"yes, johnny," he breathes.

soap moves unprompted for the first time since they found him; running his finger along the edge of the muzzle where his skin bulges from the pressure, half-visible scars hidden beneath the harsh metal.

"ugly," he murmurs.

ghost immediately shakes his head, almost stumbling back to the table; haphazardly throwing his mask on it. "quite the opposite," he insists.

it doesn't matter if he has no lower jaw left at all; johnny could never be ugly in his eyes.

agonisingly slowly, soap's eyes shift to the mask. he takes in the balaclava and hard shell skull like for all the times he's looked at it since his rescue, he never truly saw it. his lids fall in less of a blink and more stage curtains closing; slow, heavy, requiring effort and no small amount of strength to open once more

"good... to see you again..." he trails off, his hand shifting up to the top of his shaved head; nails digging unforgivingly into his scalp

"simon," ghost finishes for him; that horrid grieving hope tearing at his heart

soap's fingers flex and a drop of blood trails down his forehead, over the ridge of his nose to catch on the muzzle. "s-simon..."

his nails dig deeper, the drop falling to the table just to be followed by more and ghost aches to stop him but he's terrified to interrupt him. terrified to lose him now when he's so close to something.

soap's bloodied nails scratch down the crown of his head, following the line of his stolen mohawk until they come to rest on the back of the muzzle and ghost's heart drops.

they can’t get it off.

they can't get it off and he doesn't know how to explain that to soap; doesn't know if he can stomach watching soap pull at the monstrosity holding him captive, the inevitable bloodbath as the edges cut into his skin.

"show my face," soap repeats.

"johnny..." ghost begins weakly, reaching out to him but he doesn't know how, doesn't know if he even should-

the muzzle clatters onto the table.

the biometrics they couldn't bypass, the fingerprint they needed that they were so sure belonged to makarov.

it belonged to soap.

how cruel to torture him with freedom he didn't understand he could take; didn't even understand he could want.

just the kind of sick game makarov loves.

ghost doesn't know what's louder; his heart pounding in his ears or the long, uninhibited breath soap takes.

his eyes fall shut as he leans his head back with it, the blood still dripping down his face as he straightens through his exhale. his lower jaw is a mess of scars where he fought against the previous iterations of the muzzle, the corners of his lips cut through and cracked.

but the green in his eyes is duller; that light sparking brighter as blue struggles to break through the glow.

ghost's never seen anything so beautiful.

"good to see you again, johnny."