#without giving it away....

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

Solar: Did you wash...the dishes?

Solar's future partner: I thought...you wanted...to do that? :')

Solar: *fake laugh* :) You were wrong-

Source

[sunnibits]

just out of curiosity bc some people I know with glasses can just go a few hours or a day without them and be chill but I need them on all the time or I’ll go crazy

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[wavewavethoughtsonly]

I hope they put this scene in the sequel. Full Video

[were-wolverine]

jason, coming back from the dead and seeing tim as robin: how could bruce replace me? how could he give robin to someone else?

dick, who created robin in honor of his dead parents and then had bruce take it away and give it to jason without even asking him:

[markscherz]

now accepting guesses as to what this embryo becomes when it matures

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[starry-bi-sky]

my martha knight au in a nutshell:

Danny/Martha: see up here?

Danny/Martha: *taps skull*

Danny/Martha: intense psychological damage

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Danny/Martha: *upon finding out she's pregnant*

Danny/Martha: oh my god i cant be a mom, I'm fifteen and homeless--

Danny/Martha: im going to be a terrible mother--

Danny/Martha: i live in a cAR--

Danny/Martha: what if the baby inherits my powers? Oh no--

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Danny/Martha post giving birth: i've only had Bruce for a minute and a half but if anything were to happen to him i won't even need to fuse with Vlad, I'm razing this goddamn planet to the ground myself

Danny, to Baby Bruce: you are the last remaining thread of my sanity. I'm going to give you the world :)

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Danny/Martha prior to getting pregnant: Fuck it, if everything in my life has led to this moment, i'm allowed to make one stupid decision. I'm getting drunk and getting laid

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Danny/Martha while Bruce was a toddler: i swear to fucking god i am going to kill the next person who talks to me--

Bruce: hi mommy!! i brought you something!!!

Danny/Martha, immediately flipping on a dime: hi baby!! what do you have?

Bruce, a weird child like his mother: a spider :)

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Danny/Martha, talking to Falcone after he made an unsavory comment at her and Bruce: If you ever come near me or my son again, I will dig up your shithead father's corpse and make you eat his skin.

Danny/Martha: do you understand me

Falcone:... crystal, ma'am

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Danny/Martha new in Gotham: *getting mugged*

Danny/Martha: *grabs man's arm*

Danny/Martha: I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF LIKE A TWIG, FUCK BOY, DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH--

(she then proceeds to terrorize Gotham's night life for the next extended period of time, mostly unintentionally)

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Danny/Martha: Danny Fenton?? No. you must be mistaken, my name is Martha Knight.

Danny/Martha: this here is my littlest knight, Bruce.

Danny/Martha: I made him all by myself :]

[hakunoknight]

i was never the child you wanted

father

[equill]

Reuniting with a distorted past.

Extra:(New personality tested gone wrong)

wanted to play with rin living in the aftermath aus aswell and had these drawings laying around to share so yay

Panel 1: Was buried alive.

Comic 1: Who are you supposed to be?

new friends

Comic 2: Misguided protection.

obito still sensing the warning signs of rin losing her temper. anyways they proceeded to be dragged into the ocean by rin like some sea monster

Comic 3: Finding out (Now what will you do?)

obito is harshly brought back from his delusions because now its not just kushina but rin too who he needs to ripped out the tail beast from

[justaz]

when merlin asks arthur for things, the king is usually inclined to give him what he wants but it is not always guaranteed such as when his emotions cloud his judgement. but merlin’s surefire way of getting arthur to give in? he steps into his space, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says “arthur, please” and he folds like a house of cards.

[nekrosmos]

Nikolai loves touching Price whenever he can. He has been waiting so, so very long to finally have him, and he is going to make up for lost time.

It can be as simple as gently placing his hand on his waist to guide him as they're entering a room, grabbing his hand for support to help him jump off his chopper, or tracing circles with his index against the back of Price's hand while they're eating a quick lunch together.

Sometimes, Nikolai will be bolder, grabbing the inside of John's thigh with his large hand as they're sitting around the same table during a meeting, squeezing it and watching Price tense up for a second, before letting go. Other times, he will sneak a hand under John's T-shirt, the palm of his hand moving up his back, feeling him shiver under his touch, letting go before anyone else can see.

Even when they're in the middle of an op, Nik will grab any opportunity to touch Price. Gently raising his chin with his fingers so that John's eyes can meet his before telling him good luck, handing him a gun and having his fingers brush against John's, lingering for a second too long while winking at him, or grabbing John's hat after it flew away and placing it back on his head and tenderly but briefly caressing John's earlobe between his fingers after doing so.

With the life they lead, those stolen touches can sometimes be all he gets for weeks before finally having John all to himself in their bedroom. There will be time, then, to show him the extent of his love for him. In the meantime, those touches will have to do.

[uncharted-constellations]

They’re disgustingly codependant, theyre travelers, theyre investigators, they’re playing footsie at 50,000 feet.

Also a full mockup of the arm because im proud of it

[kinnsporsche]

it's always i love you and never "leave." "huh?" "i'll tell everyone that you died in the woods. so you can go back to your brother and get to open a bar just like you've always dreamed of." "why?" "i don't know. maybe because you'd sacrifice a hand for me. or maybe because i've crossed your line. or because i... i like it when you're happy. just leave. go now before i change my mind. just go! that's an order!"

[s0fter-sin]

codtwt is going off on brainwashed!soap bc of his new warzone skin and it’s making me think of ghost deliberately getting himself captured by makarov bc he knows he’ll be given to his dog to try and break him; knows he won’t be able to resist the irony, the cruelty of being tortured by the teammate he lost

he doesn’t fight; welcomes the chains around his wrists and ankles, welcomes the hands stripping him of his weapons and gear until he's defenceless

he wouldn't use them anyway

when he stalks into the room, the muzzle, the scars, not even the blank hatred or lack of recognition could make him mistake his eyes

that's his johnny

he doesn't flinch as he digs knives into his skin; would never shy away from his kiss even if it's tinged with rusted steel. doesn't swallow his screams; not when he always loved hearing him, when he spent so long coaxing his voice from the grave

frustration joins the anger in johnny's eyes the longer he goes without giving up information

just jokes; dark and puns alike

just advice when he can't get the jumper cables to spark right

ghost's not trying to escape; not trying to barter his return to the 141

he's right where he wants to be

[childrenofcain-if]

Wait so ur telling me that Mom got pregnant with us when she was still in college? As a person who's had many pregnancy scare before I graduated college, it mustn't have been easy for her at all 🙁 did she even want to keep us? Or did Elias convince her to do that?

your mother sat on the edge of her dorm bed, the small square of mattress barely big enough to hold her. ‘fake plastic trees’ by radiohead played from the CD player where she’d inserted the signed copy of ‘the bends’ that elias gifted her for her birthday last year.

she felt smaller than the girl who used to sit cross-legged on her childhood bed, staring at the posters she had of R.E.M. and the cranberries, tuning out the shouts downstairs.

now, though, it wasn’t shouts she tuned out but her own thoughts. they were loud and disjointed, clashing like mismatched cymbals in her head, each one sharp enough to make her wince.

her hand rested flat against her stomach. the knowledge of you being there was like holding a fragile, heavy truth in the palm of her hand. it would not be a lie to say she loved you—not yet. but it was too soon, too abstract.

it would also not be a lie to say she feared you. that was probably closer to the mark.

she was twenty years old, and for twenty years, she had walked a line. one side was her mother, all blunt edges and scarred softness, hollowed out by betrayal and depression. the other side was her father, all cruelty wrapped in a charming exterior he presented to everyone else but his own family.

she had walked the tightrope, feeling it shift beneath her with every fight, every slammed door, every time her father disappeared for days, weeks, only to return smelling of perfume that wasn’t her mother’s.

and to think it all started when her father had called her mother ruined. ruined. he said it with the kind of disdain reserved for something you’d like to throw away but can’t even be bothered to muster the energy to do so.

it was after her brother was born, and everything about her mother seemed different: softer in some places, scarred in others.

the postpartum weight clung to her body like an unwanted guest, and though her father never said it directly, he didn’t have to. his glances said enough. his hands, which used to linger on her waist, now found the armrests of his chair instead.

her mother’s descent was slow after that, like the drip of a faucet you don’t notice until it’s flooded the sink. she spent her days shuffling around the house, a glass of something amber in her hand, her white robe hanging loosely on her frame. she looked at your mother and her brother with eyes that didn’t seem to recognize them.

the crying started shortly after. not your mother’s, not yet, but the baby’s. it was shrill and loud, as most babies’ cries are.

your mother remembered watching her mother pick up the baby, her hands trembling, her voice high and thin as she pleaded for him to stop.

he didn’t stop.

her mother’s voice then got even louder.

“stop it!” she screamed, and when that didn’t work, she shook him. not gently, not in the way that you’re supposed to handle babies. her movements were rough and desperate, her arms jerking back and forth with a force that made your mother’s stomach drop.

your mother didn’t remember moving, only that suddenly she was there, her tiny hands gripping her mother’s arm, trying to pull her away from her baby brother.

“stop!” she cried, her own voice breaking now, tears streaming down her face. “you’re hurting him!”

for a moment, her mother froze, her chest heaving, her face crumpled with something that might have been regret or might have been rage. she looked at your mother like she didn’t know her, like she was seeing a stranger. then she dropped the baby back into the crib and stumbled out of the room.

your mother held her brother that night, rocking him back and forth until his cries softened into hiccups.

she didn’t sleep well for several nights after that. she couldn’t.

by the time your mother was a teenager, she had learned how to read the silence in a room.

she could tell by the way her father’s jaw tightened when he glanced at her mother that he was one argument away from leaving. she could tell by the way her mother avoided mirrors that she hated herself more than she hated her husband.

her father eventually did leave, of course. men like him always did. he didn’t pack a suitcase or make a scene; he just stopped coming home.

for a while, your mother thought that might be a relief. it wasn’t.

her mother spiraled without him. the drinking got worse, and with it came the harsh words and the slammed doors and the nights your mother spent sitting on the floor outside her mother’s room, listening to her sob into her pillow as she tried to coax this grown woman to eat something.

your mother had promised herself that she would be nothing like either of them.

she would not love the way her mother had loved, giving so much of herself away that there was nothing left but the empty shell of a woman who could barely hold a crying baby without wanting to hurt him.

she would not hurt the way her father had hurt, tearing holes in the fabric of their family until there was nothing left to stitch together.

and yet here she was, a junior at yale, staring at the old posters of her favourite bands in her dorm and feeling the exact same fear her mother must have felt.

it was like looking into a fucking mirror.