#come home...

[isacksteban]

any time i remember this i consider jumping out of my window

[rubydubsnuby]

Rewatched dhmis yesterday

[bethfuller]

limited perception.

find me on instagram!

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[daniartonline]

My boy, sweetest joy I’ve known ;-;

[prlssprfctn]

Give me Bruce and Jason, who are not on the war path anymore, but they are still awkward and absolutely clueless on how to make things up, so they pretend that they need something from each other in order to spend some time together. Even if these things are absolutely simple, and both of them could handle it themselves, if they wanted to.

Bruce, calling Jason in the random Friday night: So, Alfred left for a week. And I promised kids to do a homemade cake for them. And you know how useless I am in the kitchen. So.

Jason, who knows that Bruce is, in fact, not useless in the kitchen, but low-key misses cooking with him, because the last time they did it, it was Alfred's birthday before his death, and they did the cake together: Theoretically, I agree.

Bruce, sighing in relief: Theoretically, I will need you in Manor tomorrow in the morning. And I theoretically will pay for that.

Jason: Theoretically, see you tomorrow.

Bruce: Theoretically, thank you.

Jason, dealing Bruce in the middle of the night: Old man. Bail me out of the prison. I am in CGDP's building.

Bruce, knowing well that Jason wouldn't be caught in the first place, if he didn't want all of this to happen, and even if he did, he would easily escape without him, getting involved, but also knowing that today is anniversary of the day Bruce adopted Jason, and it is his way to spend time together: ...Okay. May I ask what did you do?

Jason: ...Stole Gordon's tires.

Bruce, stifling his laughter: I see. I will be here in a few minutes.

[pokemonbattletournament]

I have a hypothesis about the "burger"-"chicken sandwich" discourse. I want to see something.

[sunsbleeding]

Strange and beautiful how one afternoon with friends equals the desire to live for a million brilliant years

[ihopeucomehomesoon]

[chloesimaginationthings]

The day FNAF Charlie Emily was shut out..

[drooland]

I'm gonna tell my kids this was Sunrise On the Reaping

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Incredibly alarming that talks of “peace” in Gaza seem to extend no further than a ceasefire. How do you think they’re gonna start off where they left off themselves? Their houses are destroyed, so many have lost mothers and fathers and brothers and children, they still have no clean water and no food. Any area Israel withdraws out of is an area it already knows has been rendered inhospitable. There was even a direct quote by some IOF soldier gleefully stating how he “wasn’t sure Palestinians could go back to their homes.” So what happens when the US “succeeds at negotiating a ceasefire”? Who will be responsible for helping the Palestinians rebuild all that they’ve lost?

[crocodiller]

*Myshka is left safely at camp before any trips to the Hells ~extra~

[eraserbread]

nanami married you four days ago... he's so obsessed with you he forgets how to be. <3

kento's been physically unable to keep his hands off you since you took his surname. there's just something different in the way you move around him.

like this morning, you slide out of the big resort bed in absolutely nothing, dragging your feet as you head to the showers. of course you were careful not to stir your sleeping husband, but you couldn't last another second under the mugginess of the comforters. though, your langkawi honeymoon resort was full of love, just not air conditioning. kento hated sleeping with windows open, so you succumbed to the mugginess.

as soon as you turn on the shower spray and dip your head under, the door draws open so slowly you don't even notice it. you can only notice the sudden rush of cold that falls over your skin. peeking open a single eye, you smile when you see him shedding his sleep shirt and stepping into the steamy, tiled sanctuary with you.

he doesn't speak a word, but every little movement is so deliberate and kind. starting at your shoulder, he traces the expanse of your neck, breathing heavily behind you before pressing a kiss right above his touch. you crane your neck, offering him more.

"i hate to be a bother, but you are just so beautiful this morning." he whispers against your wet ear, nuzzling deeper into his back with his stringy, blonde hair dripping down his shoulders. "can you feel it? how much I need you? can I put it in - my nanami, please?"

he knows you'll say yes, but always asks. you'll always tell him to touch you whenever he needs it, but he's so respectful it's stupid. so, you nod, rubbing water out of your eyes so when you turn around, you can see him through the fog. all of his tight features, the cut of his jaw, the softness of his eyes. it all rings true and feels like home.

wrapping both arms around his shoulders, you nod. "as long as you keep treating me so well, you can have whatever you need." you remind him, leaning close to trail yours across his dripping lips.

"now, i'm not a religious man, nor did I lead a very fulfilling life. but, you, my dear..."

"what?" you're flushed, still so used to his compliments but always prisoner to his charm.

"you are my purpose."

around his back, your hands turn to fists, trying to fight the visceral body response his words never fail to give you. "god, don't look at me like that. you're perfect."

he would humor you more, but that look in your eyes makes him rather fuck you gruelingly slow against the harshness of the hot water.

so, that's what he does.

shower sex always unnerved you, but kento is so alarmingly stable on his two feet that he can sustain the weight of both of you against the slickness. it just gives him purpose for fucking you soft and slow, watching the girth of his cock split you open so delicately like you're made for him.

he makes you watch, this time, wrapping your legs around his waist as he supports you against the shower wall. you love the feeling of his thick fingers digging into the swell of your ass, and love the sound of his sweet, deep voice, recognizing all of your lewd tendencies.

"see how it gets all red when I pull out. like you're blushing on my cock, my baby - nanami."

"mm, oh i love that,"

"look at it," he demands, pressing the top of his head to yours as you let it hang between your shoulders. "no matter how many times I do this to you, I never get over just how well I fit..."

"almost like you're made for me. in fact, I know you were."

[kokodrawings]

Role reversal AU: Naruto as the ambassador of the shinobi nations