#idk this moment just came to me

[doctorsiren]

Summertime Rainstorm

[sneez]

family portrait :D young sam and sybil are behaving themselves and vimes is throwing a hissy fit because they tried to make him wear the helmet

[id: a digital painting of three people sitting for a portrait in a domestic interior. young sam is standing with his hands behind his back and beaming proudly. vimes is standing behind him with his hand on his shoulder, wearing a shiny military uniform and a surly expression. sybil is sitting on the right with an arm around young sam, smiling at the viewer. a plumed helmet is sitting on a table on the left. end id.]

[choccy-milky]

clora with @lamieboo's dahlia💛🩵 i had to draw them together as soon as i saw dahlia was yellow and blue, bc their colour schemes are kinda the same, just inverted (and u all know how i love my opposites LMAO)

[aimbutmiss]

It didn't take Mihawk long to catch up to whatever was going on between Shanks and Buggy.

And no, it wasn't because he used to listen to Shanks sob about the clown at dirty bars on random nights back in the day. His previous knowledge of their relationship was not needed with how obvious the red head was being at the moment.

Shanks watched Buggy's every move, listened to his every word as if they were sacred—as if he'd be punished by God if he missed a single thing.

His eyes moved down, to the red lips.

He licked his own in hunger.

He looked away, biting his lips.

So, Mihawk was no genius, but you didn't need to be one to see the desperate need and want in the man's every move.

Buggy saw it too, he was certain—but he ignored it like his life depended on it. He went out of his way to act like everything was normal between them, as much as he could. But the clown's phenomenal act had its limits too. You could see it crack in the way his breath hitched when their eyes accidentally locked, or when their knees bumped under the table. The recovery was fast after those single seconds, but Mihawk's eyes were faster. He watched, he saw, he knew.

The meeting was (thankfully) over, and Buggy was the first one to rush away despite Shanks' proposal to share a drink, leaving them behind. The man in front of him was clearly down in the dumps, but Mihawk had no intention of consoling him. He had done that on many nights in their youth with nothing in return, so he had learned his lesson the hard way. It was better to let the man drink away his worries on his own, as he usually did.

He was more worried about Crocodile, who had looked on the verge of killing Red Hair the entirety of the meeting. And even now, after everything was over, he was still fuming in the seat beside his. The two men didn't like each other, that was another obvious take away from the night. This meeting was a stupid idea from the beginning—Mihawk was surprised Crocodile agreed in the first place. Maybe it was curiosity that pushed him towards that decision, maybe something else—the man was certainly harder to read than the other two. But now, on his cigar number-God-knows-what, Crocodile probably regretted that decision.

He gently laid a hand on the man's thigh in reassurance, shifting his focus away from Shanks. "We should go home now. Let's not keep Buggy waiting."

Crocodile slowly came to his senses, calming down. He put out his cigar with a smirk, staring at Shanks head on. "You're right." He wasn't acknowledging what Mihawk said, but what he meant. No matter what the red head did it was them who got to go home to Buggy, not him. The frustration was unnecessary.

"It's always nice seeing you, Red Hair." Not necessarily a lie, but said to console Shanks nonetheless. He ended up doing it again... He still did have a soft spot for the sad man after all. With that, Mihawk got up to leave and walked side by side with his "business partner" to where Buggy was waiting for them. He was probably gonna be a lot more silent than usual, lost in his thoughts of the past, but that was okay. He wasn't alone— Mihawk would make sure of that. Because, unlike with Shanks, when he consoled the clown he actually got love in return. It felt nice, being loved after loving your whole life. He was glad he met Buggy, and ended up where they are somehow.

Mihawk was a man who didn't like leaving things to luck, but when it came to this—to them, he was grateful for it.

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #154

CW: this one's pretty gruesome. read at your own risk 

Peter is a young child who's been kidnapped. His parents and/or his aunt and uncle were killed and he was taken. Along with a bunch of other little kids, he's been held captive and experimented on.

When the Avengers suddenly bust the kidnapping operation, the kidnappers try at the last second to destroy their research. They gas the small room where the kids are being held.

It's Iron Man who ends up blasting through. What he finds is horrifying. All but one of the children are dead.

The one who's left is just sitting among the bodies, crying, shocked, terrified. Iron Man carries him out of there, then once they're safe from the gas Tony steps out of the suit to comfort the kid while he's given oxygen.

Little 5-year-old Peter Parker imprints on his savior hard.

He just went through an unimaginable amount of trauma, then Iron Man burst through like an avenging angel. This is the first time he's ever felt protected in his memory. Tony holds the crying kid, and the kid can tolerate no one else near him.

This becomes a slight problem when they get back to base. But Tony can't find it in him to let SHIELD take the kid away, let them strip him of this one tiny bit of comfort. He keeps seeing all those other kids when he closes his eyes.

This one needs him right now. And if "right now" eventually becomes "this is my son," well. Who could've predicted that.

[blazeturbo102]

Okay, but genuinely, what way is people taking Maddie's:

"I think maybe you're not sure of your own feelings yet. And, if there's something you need to tell Eddie, you will. Just, in your own time."

Bc it just feels like such a weird answer to Buck worrying about having lied to Eddie; it's really impossible for me to believe she doesn't know something 😩😩

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[hella1975]

it's been pointed out on here before that a lot of terf arguments are actually rooted in sexist idealology that feminists fought and died to unnormalise decades ago and that's its own kettle of fish but one thing i also find very frustrating about this so called 'radical' feminism is that it's so... defeatist? like the moment you categorically label an entire section of society as Bad and Inherently Evil then there's also the implication that nothing can be done about it, and it completely takes all accountability away. saying all men are evil is just another way of saying boys will be boys. he raped her because he's a man. he hit her because he's a man. he didn't listen because he's a man - it's almost offensively oversimplified. there's no point trying to fix this issue in society because men are just Like That, okay! so now what? it's not like they're going anywhere, so you just accept that 50% of the population are evil and will forever treat you terribly and there's nothing to be done about it bc they're biologically predisposed to it? like is that fr the argument here? you're soooo radical for that

[fryday]

i think the most important thing i've realised about running a fandom blog is that whatever you make should literally all be for yourself. nobody is going to consume this same media and process it the way you do, or be inspired by it the same way you will, or, therefore, create the same things for it like you will. so the chances are high that the only way you're gonna see the stuff you wanna see out there in your fandom space - is to make it yourself. you're manifesting your vision for yourself, and by that, other people can either enjoy it or not, but it's really secondary to the point of it all

[hecksupremechips]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[p4nishers]

random hc but. crowley being a plague doctor in the 16th/17th century bc he's supposedly "tempting people into death" but he can never, ever bring himself to actually do that so he ends up soothing their pain as best as he can and comforting them in their last moments. one night, after he held a little girl's hand as she passed away, he sits down at the banks of the river thames, with his plague mask discarded on the dirt, and he starts out over the water with tears in his eyes, wondering what the fuck is actually the point? it's not the first time he's asked himself the question nor the first plague he witnessed but, here, now after personally witnessing hundreds of deaths every day, he really wonders what actually is the point of him? why does he exist and why should he keep existing. why does he get to live when so many others don't? how is that fair? how is any of it fair? that's how aziraphale finds him, as he just got back from an assignment somewhere or other and hears crowley is in town, so he discreetly looks for him and finds him there, sitting in the dirt, now with his head in his hands, his shoulders silently shaking and is obviously immediately worried but doesn't know how to comfort him or what's allowed so he just sits beside crowley and watches him try to pull himself together. aziraphale's heart breaks, he put what happened together from the mask and the robes and he obviously knows about the bubonic plague but was convinced it was hell's doing and couldn't have even imagined crowley was out there everyday, helping people under the guise of hurting them. is he surprised? no, of course not but it still hurts to see crowley like this. but he's afraid to cross their unspoken rules so he quietly waits crowley out. he watches the water and doesn't dare look at crowley as he lifts his head and takes a few shaky breaths in. after a few minutes of breathing, crowley croaks out "her name was mary" and nothing else, and aziraphale understands, god he understands. it's one of the things they never speak about after it happens but aziraphale can't forget the night he sat with crowley for hours, till the sun came up, as he cried about a death of one little girl. he holds it close to his chest and never, ever forgets.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

if this 'rocking out/air guitar' move was scripted, there's definitely a take of kyle whacking case in the head by accident, i just feel it in my heart

[app1es0uce]

”Monster” but Hades is there and he’s an angry, tired New Yorker.

—————————

Odysseus: THEN I’LL BECOME THE MONSTER, I WILL DEAL THE BLOW!

Hades, shouting from the twelfth floor of his apartment building: AY KEEP IT QUIET DOWN THERE! AY IM SLEEP’N OVER ‘ERE!

[corallapis]

does ruby know that the doctor was the one who placed her on the doorstep of the church?

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

pov you’ve just reread the yi city arc… except that clearly wasn’t ENOUGH because of course your analysis brain had to take over and search for parallels, so you have to go and reread and save the most depressing WWX scenes right after…

i’m fine :))

[the-punforgiven]

I remember through my entire childhood and much of my adult life I genuinely did not notice the sexual terminology present in the title of the Red Hot Chili Peppers song "Californication"

I genuinely thought the entire time that the title of that song was meant to indicate some sort of transformative element akin to terms like "Carcinisation" or "Ossification" and was in turn referring to some bizarre process by which someone or something like, becomes Californian