#Shippy stuff

[dottysdokis]

(walks into this conversation with a live grenade) functionally, is this scenario any different than omegaverse plots of alphas marking their omegas with their scent + a mating bite

during the portal era people keep asking ford if the rumor is true, if he's bill cipher's mate, and the word cuts through him like a hot knife. he knows, reasonably, logically, that his universal translator is likely just substituting the closest word for whatever alien term was actually said, but he also doesn't put it past bill to have spread such a rumor

[mumatsi]

Freaky triangle cant handle true freak

[iryght]

Anyone here likes the owl house? Because love it but mostly I love these two.

[asilentguardian]

Jason stands there for a while, leaning against the wall, watching Hal. It’s clear Hal is struggling to control the impulse to reach out and hold Bruce, his hands twitching and his body leaning towards the bed. But Jason was here first, and he’s not leaving.

Jason doesn’t break the silence, just watches. It wasn’t Hal. He had been possessed, totally and completely. But Bruce had held back. He could’ve laid Hal out, but he didn’t. And he’d paid the price. Broken ribs, a broken arm, sprained ankle. A ring of black and blue around his throat that Jason’s eyes have avoided since he first saw him, swallowed by monitors and the emptiness of the Watchtower med-bay.

It wasn’t Hal. But Jason had seen it, from afar. He’d watched Bruce go down and not get back up, because no one was fast enough to stop a Green Lantern out of his mind, especially when that Green Lantern was Hal Jordan. No one could get to him faster than he could have Bruce on the ground. If Clark had been two seconds later…

Jason eyes the fluorescent ring on Hal’s hand.

“Yellow light,” Hal says, his voice hoarse. Probably from the amount of yelling he had let loose, after he had been snapped out of it.

“What?” Jason asks.

“A Green Lantern’s greatest weakness. Yellow light. Preferably a Yellow Lantern. That would be the easiest way to– to stop me,” Hal explains, eyes still on Bruce, on the rise and fall of his chest. Hands still in his own lap.

Jason wonders what the rest of the Green Lanterns would think about Hal offering that information so freely. Probably they would be pissed. Jason doesn’t care.

“Bruce already knows that, doesn’t he?” Jason asks. Cause god knows Bruce would’ve figured it out a long time ago. He would have probably been thinking about all his little contingency plans all day, as soon as they knew metas weren’t immune. 

“Yes,” Hal says, voice hoarse, “but he didn’t use it.” And Hal sounds angry. Angry that Bruce refused to fight back, to hurt him. 

“He wouldn’t, not until the last possible moment,” Jason says, unable to stop his own anger from leaking into this voice. Because yes, he was pissed at Bruce. As fast as Hal Jordan is, Bruce is faster. Bruce could annihilate the whole League, if he had to. But instead, he’s here, unconscious in another hospital bed, narrowly avoiding death despite the 13 year old at home. Despite all the people who need him.

“Why the hell not,” Hal bites out. Jason lets out a dry laugh.

“I don’t know, Hal. Quite a mystery, that one,” Jason says. Hal’s jaw clenches at that. As if either had been subtle, as if no one had noticed the way they look at each other. Jason had certainly noticed. He’d noticed a lot, some things he’d like scrubbed from his memory, thank you very much.

But some things. Like Hal pulling his hand away from Bruce’s, cracking a joke anytime anyone tried to comment. Like the way he found a reason to leave the cave, whenever someone else entered. 

“If it– If it happens again, would you– Before I–”

“Fuck you,” Jason snarls, “take you and your suicidal bullshit somewhere else. He needs you here, not in the middle of a pity party. He’d rather cut off a limb than see some he loves die, you asshole.”

Hal turns towards him at that, blinks at him for a moment.

“He doesn’t– we’re not–”

“Oh stick a cock in it and hold his fucking hand already, you sorry excuse for a human. If that’s any kind of news to you then you don’t know him at all. Your eyes must have been closed for the past however long, maybe there wasn’t enough blood in your brain. No, shut up, let me tell you something else, dickwad, you’re fucking it up royally, is what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but from where I’m standing it looks like you’re jerking him around, because god forbid Hal Jordan have a fucking emotion about anything, that would be too fucking much.”

At some point, Jason had pushed off the wall and ended up on the other side of Bruce’s bed. His chest is heaving as he stares down a wide-eyed Hal Jordan. Hal slowly reaches a hand out and places it over Bruce’s, fingers wrapping around it tentatively. Hal swallows, looks back down at Bruce.

“I might be really bad at this, it turns out,” Hal finally says, voice strained. Jason snorts.

“Yeah, no shit.”

They both sit there for a moment, watching Bruce’s chest rise and fall, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor. 

“Hey Hal,” Jason says, finally breaking the silence that’s fallen over them. Hal looks over at him, meets his eyes.

“It wasn’t you,” Jason says. Hal swallows again, nods hesitantly.

“Yeah. Yeah I know,” he whispers, hand twitching, like he might pull away from Bruce. Jason holds his gaze for a few seconds, then looks back down at Bruce. Leslie said he’d be under until at least tomorrow morning. Jason figures that the amount of painkillers he’s on might be enough to kill someone who didn’t get beat up as a hobby.

“One more thing. If it ever is you, you’ll regret telling me the yellow light thing for the rest of your short, short life,” Jason says, low and steady. Hal just stares back at him.

“No, I wouldn't,” Hal says softly. Jason rolls his eyes. Gross.

Jason has to stare at Bruce for just a little longer, gather his strength before he walks out of the room. His whole body screams at him to stay, that’s there’s an active threat near– near his–

It wasn’t Hal. Jason knows this. But he saw it happen. The tight leash he has on his anger is fraying, and Jason suspects Hal wouldn’t fight back, not really. So he needs to go punch something else.

[inkwell-intermission]

Love is when you keep a pack of someone's cigarettes of choice on you at all times in case they run out <3 I hope the clubsdroogers out there enjoy this meal

[mt10lt20]

Been a while! Ace Combat random art dump

Cipher (AC0), Phoenix (AC2), Antares (AC JA) - Best of the Worst

Ciphixy <3

Tali (AC6) - Fallen Angel

[the-storm-chaser]

... So about those dates?

@songofsilentechoes

[imaginarycyberpunk2023]

OTP: Lite Sneeze // Macha Richter & Vinnie Gallo // lovely valentines day props by @breezypunk available on nexus

[mite75]

“You know I don't give a damn about the Locked Tomb, right? You know I only care about you."

[witcherscreenshotsdump]

𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝟛 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤

| C E R Y S x C I R I |

[steelart]

Drawing of the Day: Carja-Clothed Kotaloy

Practicing colors to prep for finishing a way overdue commission; here’s the update to this WIP post

[mumatsi]

Part 2 come get the food

1

2

Bonus:

Do not reupload my art!

[dread-red-queen]

🚫 Do Not Re-Upload/Edit My Shots/Art Without My Permission🚫

      [Pillowfort][Instagram][Tumblr][AO3][Nexus][Ko-Fi[Discord]

[asilentguardian]

Thinking about Tim being the second batkid to get married, after Dick. Thinking about how Bruce's hair is really starting to grey now, and how he goes out at night less and less frequently. Tim's wedding is a less public one, so most of the Justice League is there, and as the night goes on Bruce and Hal keep drifting towards each other. And Bruce sees his kids, older now, confident and healing and laughing with each other all night. They'll always need him, and he'll always need them, but even Damian has started handling things on his own. So for the first time, Bruce lets himself look at Hal. Really look. And he finds that Hal looks back. Maybe he's always looked at Bruce like that, and Bruce has definitely always stolen looks and wondered: what if? So they talk all night, disguise it as carefully contained bickering. They hover, exchange glances. Bruce leaves with Hal's hand resting in his back pocket and has a brief pang of regret that he didn't let himself have this sooner. Didn't let himself notice the heat in Hal's gaze, or the curve of his jaw. But Hal goes home with him that night, and he never seems to leave.

[inkwell-intermission]

clubsdroog is so funny to me. theyre so real

[hazzybat]

Jure + interacting with everyone (some are more shippy than others)