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Do y'all realise that Paper Star has an account on Tumblr like wtf? Who gave her permission? And why does Tigress also have an account!? VILE I need answers.
Again. You are not allowed any outside contact (which includes mobile phones) on VILE during the training period. They’re allowed once you pass since outside contact is kind of the point now. Carmen Sandiego did not know this, because Carmen Sandiego did not, in fact, pass
#asks#intern replies#vileacademyofficial#carmen sandiego#carmen sandiego 2019#carmen sandiego netflix
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is the country mozambique?
DING DING DING!! That’s right, we ARE in Mozambique! Congratulations to all of you who figured it out!
Well, I am a creature of my word. The agents are set to be released soon. Someone shut off this ungodly Dance Monkey oh my god
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Will you sell The stickers outside The patreon???


Maybe in a year or so from now if I have any leftovers!! But to guarantee you’ll get these stickers it’s better to join the Patreon ^^
I plan on eventually making some FNAF merch that is for my shop though!
#ask reply#I’ll be making other merch sometime that WILL be in my store#but the stickers are for Patreon#it’s free shipping and international if you join so best deal is the Patreon#also folks on the Patreon can order past stickers by asking in DMs#I’ll hopefully have some stuff for the shop sometime mid next year#I’ll sell stickers if there are any leftovers but that’s a gamble pff#tysm for being interested though!!
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#jirai meme#jirai girl#jirai kei#I try to control myself but on the inside JUST REPLY ALREADY#i wanna explode#screaming internally#landmineblr#jiraiblr#landmine girl#jirai#jirai posting#jirai onna#jirai lifestyle#pien girl#pien#lifestyle jirai#landmine jirai
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that tune without the words
“It was nice, walking through those woods, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another line item for Eddie’s getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—but then his tone’s turning sorta wry: “Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.” 💕
rating: t ♥️ cw: mid-S4, Vol2, steve goes back for eddie’s ‘body’, interdimensional bat venom can be a hell of an paralytic inconvenience ♥️ tags: eddie munson lives (to go on a date that’s not walking through dead hell-forests 🎉), steve harrington having a one-sided/unfiltered heart-to-heart with the cute boy who carved his probable bisexuality indelibly intonstone 💎 (no biggie), an over abundance of flirting in times of mortal peril, planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals, happy ending (and hopeful ending, too!)
for @steddielovemonth day two: "if you're lost, you can look and you will find me // if you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting" —Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper
title credit here🪶
When they tangled with Vecna, Eddie’s body gets left behind. Sure, yes, they all know the timeline, the logistics, how the story goes. The gates seal. Supergirl goes nuclear. They kinda-half-lose. The town’s a fucking mess. They gotta lick their wounds.
But the in-between bits get hazy, see.
Specifically when Steve went AWOL and ran back, jumped through the closing gate he’d just barely managed to climb up through in the first place, given the extent of his wounds, and runs for the body they abandoned because he doesn’t leave his people behind.
And somehow in just a couple days, Eddie counted as his people. Even just his body.
The strength, the speed, the stamina to not have been stuck in the Upside Down, to not have dropped the dead weight in the way back up, to not have got suctioned in and crushed in half as the fissures crept closed: that’s the fucking stuff of legends, of parents lifting trucks off pinned children. No wonder they call Steve the mom.
But yeah. Eddie’s body’s left behind.
For like…ten minutes, max.
Then Steve fucking Harrington had to be all Steve fucking Harrington about it, say fuck that, and weigh the risk of two dead bodies as sufficient collateral to leap like it was a fucking two-for-one at Melvald’s.
Bastard made it back, too. Bloody as fuck, everything that’d healed even a little bit torn at least twice as wide in breaking back open; three extra broken bones, with at least on being a rib that there’s genuine concern over puncturing a lung with one more wrong move—and a likely one, given the evidence thus far.
And also, there’s Eddie.
Eddie, who’s breathing, who they don’t know until later whether Steve managed to somehow resuscitate, or if the powers that govern the hellscape zapped him back for nefarious reasons, or maybe they’d all just…fucked up and missed that Eddie wasn’t even all-dead in the first place.
Details, remember. The in-between parts got real hazy.
Eddie knew the truth form the get-go, though.
Having to witness Henderson fall apart, draped across him was maybe the most harrowing thing eddie has ever had to live through—but the point was, he did live through it. Everything was foggy, and he felt like his world was blinking too long in between knowing it was still there, like reality and his place in it were too close to sleep to be rooted, to be trusted, to be sure at all that it would last and that his shitty attempts to get any air in weren’t just painful acts of desperation to delay the inevitable.
But then there had been lips on his lips, and he’d tasted his own blood there but then more blood, other blood.
And his lungs were blissfully full for the first time in what felt like eons.
He wants to turn to find out who’s there, whose mouth had just spared him in his torment for even a few extra moments before the end, but he—
He can’t fucking move. He hadn’t realized that part before—oxygen deprivation, hell of a distraction apparently—but now that he clocks it?
That lungful of air’s gasping out fast as fuck as eddie panic because what’s happening what is happening—
What’s happening is that mouth on his again, giving him back the breath he’s foolishly wasting on panic, coupled with a too-broad hand, palm braced at his chest and fingers curled up his shoulder: firm. Steadying.
“Poison,” a voice says low, close to him enough that eddie thinks he maybe feel warmth from it but he’s not sure, he’s not sure what he does and does not feel and that’s most of the fucking terror: “in the venom. My legs were numb as fuck after, the went too deep at the core and it just fanned out, couldn’t feel a fucking thing but the pain til we got supplies.”
The hand moves fuller to his chest like it’s testing something, then the lips are back, filling up his lungs, like someone who knows how this works, who’s done it before—
A lifeguard would know. Would have done it before and…
Okay, like, Eddie didn’t spend most of every summer the past handful of years in a carefully disguised little copse of shadey trees near enough to keep the community pool in his sights because he was planning to get in the water, y’know?
“But then it felt like there wasn’t enough air when I tried to breathe deep, way worse than my legs, like from,” and he touches Eddie’s neck, then, where the bats barely got him by comparison to…other places so Eddie thinks—with the newly-restored moments of oxygen to his brain cells—Steve’s talking about his suspicious noose-shaped souvenir.
Eddie wants to be able to see, wants to see and know with all his sense that this is steve: touching him and coming back for him and saving him and—
“You’re still breathing,” and shit, it’s like Eddie’s prayers are answered without a god believed in, his fucking lucky day, because Steve’s leaning and holding still so the his cheek under Eddie’s nose, and the bow of his lips just at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, gasping out his assessment when the hint of damp the exhale gathers on his skin, all with a kind of relief that feels…too big, really. Like Eddie can’t possibly deserve that. They barely know each other.
But fuck if Eddie—who was very much banking of giving up the goddamn ghost down here just a couple minute prior, especially once everyone had left and he was just staring at the red lightning waiting to be struck down for good—but fuck if Eddie is gonna pretend he doesn’t want to deserve that care and relief, to merit and earn it for himself, specifically from Steve, especially the Steve he’s gotten to know in the last seventy-two hours. All the shit about crisis revealing a persons true nature?
Sign Eddie the fuck up for a) all of Steve Harrington and his truest true nature as well as b) the sworn duty of keeping this far too tightly wound paladin barbarian crossbreed marvel of a specimen from any more crises, and ensuring the opposite instead, maybe like, holding him close. Kissing his neck. Falling asleep in each other’s arms. More…stuff like that.
Time probably moves faster the vacuum of real actual Armageddon, so. He probably can shrug off the ‘barely know each other’ stuff.
His heart’s doing a little floppy-floppy thing with Steve’s mouth still so close; with knowing Steve’s mouth had been closer, so. Yeah. He’s sold, 100% on board. Bring him the dotted line, he’ll be Mrs. Harrington by morning.
Or…evening? It’s just fucking dark here, he doesn’t even remember what day it is.
“Too much,” and Steve’s not moving form where he’s gauging—presumably—Eddie’s breaths at the source, whispering and so, so close as he waggles his hand around; “before, but,” and Eddie gets it quick: too much commotion. To much hysteria, and more than merited, but Dustin’s sobbing? Robin’s shaking, Nancy’s armor-grip on her gun making trying to measure a pulse less than worthless and Steve…Steve has getting them the fuck out before the gates closed, Eddie remembers hearing that—which begs the question of why he’s here again bow, but one thing at a time.
The one thing Eddie wants to focus on is Steve thought to come back at all, and thought it not inpossible to find him alive and not-yet-but-still-eventually-capable-of-kicking, because the bats had numbed him to fuck, too.
And he hadn’t told anyone, Jesus fuck—this man, and giving more shirts about him already than Eddie’s maybe given for anyone, is gonna be what actually manages to put him six feet in the goddamn ground.
“I had a feeling,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t have to try and fail to turn to see the triumphant smirk he’s pulling, still relieved but like, vindicated now, too.
“And even if I didn’t,” he sobers quick; “I wasn’t leaving you here.” And Eddie wouldn’t stilled if he was capable of moving in the first place because…yeah, he’s basically figured he was being left here. Was pretty much solidly on his way to making his peace with it too when feet landed close to his knees and lips closed over his own and the rest is…
Is now. Where Steve Harrington doesn’t leave Eddie Munson, even as the world ends in their fucking faces and all proves to be as good as lost.
He won’t settle for them counting among the loses and that’s…
That’s just kinda…wow.
“Was really banking pretty hard on that feeling, too,” and Eddie hears Steve’s voice strain a little, even as there comes a little tiny huff of slightly manic laughter, and a rip of fabric from fuck knows where. “Want to get to know you better, Munson,” he says, tight like he’s holding up tensions, or swallowing back pain and Eddie doesn’t like that, and likes even less that he can do fuck all about it right now.
But if they’re gonna be in the business of getting to know each other better, then Eddie’s filing that sound away in the ‘keep that shit away from Steve forever’ file.
Eddie likes dealing with forevers in his head, because they so rarely work out for him in life. He craves disappointment, maybe; but.
“Walking through the woods, half-fucking paralyzed was some of the,” Steve starts, honest and earnest before Eddie catches half-a-shrug out the corner of his eye and…maybe he’s not the only one who deals in forevers in their head, and if he’s suddenly not the only one, maybe less disappointing could possibly be imminent.
Maybe.
“It was nice, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another thing for the getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—then his tone’s turning sorta wry:
“Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.”
Eddie wants desperately to laugh, to bump shoulders with Steve again like he did a little, tries for more when they were walking side by side, he wants so fucking bad—
Then there’s fire in his fucking throat.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve sounds more startled than concerned, where Eddie’s kinda afraid his neck is melting into lava or some shit; “yeah, yeah, baby,” and hold the fuck up, what did Steve just say, what did Steve just call him? Our of nowhere?
The lava feeling’s way less important; in fact, takes enough of a back step to make some sense with Steve’s neck words, with his hand back in Eddie’s chest to brace his shoulder:
“You’re coming back, just keep,” he’d tries to laugh, and the sound had gotten lost on Eddie in the agony but it hadn’t been lost in Steve, his baby, holy fucking shit—
“Oh.”
Steve’s tone is something entirely new; awed a little, floored a little, not bad, so that’s a plus, but…overwhelmed like at the edges but then fucking ecstatic in the middle, which down here shouldn’t even be possible, until his hand pressed a little harder into Eddie’s ribs on the less mangled side and—
“Strong enough to feel, now, even when I still can’t feel everything,” Steve’s face swims, gorgeous and kinda like an answer to the universe in the minimal view space Eddie has to work with as he slowly crawls back online, a process not actually being helped by Eddie putting together what’s causing Steve’s reaction—the way his heart’s pumping’s growing a little undeniable even on his own end, and Steve’s hand feeling the raw effects of Steve on Eddie’s body right now isn’t helping matters at-fucking-all, but also Eddie never wants that touch to leave him ever fucking again, ever.
It’s a delicate sort of contradiction.
“Shit, yeah,” and Steve’s laughing, and it’s a soft joy-tinged thing less than the manic hysteria thus far.
Eddie’s fucking toast, man. No hope for him now.
“Strong enough even if I’m kinda fucking shaking,” Steve holds out his hand that, yeah, is in fact a little trembly but hey.
Eddie can’t feel shit yet too good, but he’s almost certain he’s got to be no better. Blood in his veins certainly ain’t winning any awards for steadiness.
And Steve leans down, this time back with another one of those vaguely hysterical laughs and Eddie can’t see everything outside of the angle his head’s held at just now, and the whole problem really starts with how he can’t feel a lot of shit á la bat venom, but.
If Eddie had any money, he’d actually wager that Steve fucking Harrington. Just touched his lips to Eddie’s neck, just kissed where his pulse would kick between his collarbones. And, true or not, the possibility of that?
Holy fucking shit.
“I hope these aren’t too tight,” Eddie sees the motion from Steve’s shoulder, feels…or thinks he feels the lightest ghost of pressure at his fucked up side: tight. The tearing from before; Steve had been wrapping his sorry ass up.
Talk about Eddie’s goddamn knight in shining armor, Jesus fuck.
“Pretty sure it came down to the fact that their poison hit me like it did because of where they got me the worse, and that’s what made me hope in the first place, you know. Your worst bleeders are in the meat,” and yeah, Eddie really does think that’s real sensation for the soft press of Steve’s hand at his flank, not say nothing of the burning flush to his cheeks, blood’s moving just fine there.
“Fucking deep but not so close to the bloodstream, to pump around and make it worse,” and he touches Eddie’s neck again, and ah: that was why Steve had the reaction he did, mainline to the ticker to get it all swum around. “More of it in you, obviously, because there were more of them, more teeth, but not up here,” and fuck Steve Harrington for the way his hand brushes Eddie’s neck almost tender-like, just…fuck him; “no a direct fucking line to the source.”
Yes. Fuck him. Preferably soon and with Eddie at full sensation and on a horizontal surface that’s not bloodsoaked and vaguely reeking of rot.
Just, y’know. If anyone’s taking note of preferences.
“Thank god for it,” Steve breathes out, the air fluttering over Eddie’s face and he can feel it and he wants to cry, he wants to jump up and dance; can’t do that year but his pulse makes a damn good attempt.
“But yeah, anyway, just walking through hell with you was,” Steve shifts back to the part where he’d seemed to be extolling the virtues of apocalyptic flirting, but before Eddie can file it away to do so much better in whatever’s to come? Steve’s slotting his fingers between Eddie’s own; he can’t feel the whole of it, but he damn well feels enough to know the way they fit is perfect, like they were cut form the same clay millennia ago.
Of course Eddie’s heart goes flippy-floppy again; it fucking has to.
“Not the part about Nance so much, though.”
And Eddie thinks he frowns because…oh.
Oh right, yeah, he really hasn’t had a glimmer of hope in hell that what kinda feels like is happening right now was even on the goddamn table, so…maybe he had tried to funnel his sense of pure and unadulterated loss into at east giving the boy he wanted, what < i >that boy wanted.
Whoops.
Won’t be making that mistake ever again, though, at least. Lesson learned, loud and clear.
“That’s been and gone, man,” steve sighs, a if Eddie needs more convincing. “And I don’t want to go back to where I left it. I want to love someone, who loves me.”
It feels heavy and vulnerable, but all Eddie wants to do is shot me, it can be me, let me have the adventure of learning how to love every bit of you better than you ever thought to even hope after pretty fucking please with a goddamn cherry on top—
“So she’s,” Steve huffs, definitive-like: “out of the picture. She could maybe learn to be that, but, and Steve moves, the most intentionally he’s done it so far to look Eddie straight in the eye when he wraps up the point:
“I’m not interested enough to wait.”
Which means it’s no fucking coincidence, that eye-contact, and Eddie’s ping-ponging pulse for it is 100% prevent valid and then some.
“And I know can’t talk right now, so I get this isn’t really,” Steve sucks his teeth in a genuinely unbearably adorable way; “fair, or probably even like, wholly ethical,” and Eddie’s only been around for days but that sounds like Robin right there, and the feeling of a dangerous pull near his cheek makes him think the urge to smile wasn’t wholly ignored by his beat to shit body, fucking progress.
“So think of it just like a,” he hums, then snaps his fingers as he lands on: “suggestion! A suggestion. Like me, just, putting it out there, which I usually do before anyone feels the same way anyway so this is just like, variation on the theme, but,” and Steve’s eyes are so big, Eddie’s never seen them looks this way before while Steve tips his whole face so Eddie can watch before he can sit up or turn his neck, must be fucking painful but he doesn’t even flinch, and Eddie’s only ever just kinda fallen for the puppy droop of those gorgeous eyes. Now they’re all, big and wide and bright and breathless and holy shit, Eddie’s really is just so screwedbest thing ever.
“I want to take you to dinner, a movie.”
Okay, hold up. That idea, said out loud and meant and directed to him: that might be the best thing ever.
“Maybe a drive in so no one will see if you let me hold your hand, or put my arm around you, or start necking with you halfway through,” like that isn’t making Eddie wonder if he just can’t feel the hard on every piece of him is very convinced he has to have right now, if his body can actually pony up just yet.
“If you want, of course. We could go slow,” and it’s like Steve’s thought about it, like this isn’t just adrenaline and near-death and zero impulse control. It’s most like he…like he actually wants. “Just a movie, even like at my house. Or yours. After they,” Steve clears his throat, the only part he’s even hinted awkwardness in; “after they take care of that.”
Ah. Right. Eddie probably does now have a trailer anymore.
Weird how little he’s caring about that at the moment.
“I could cook, I’m not bad at it,” Steve’s ploughing in with secret knowledge because: Harrington. Apron. Sauce on his cheek. KO-fucking punch to the heart, no survivors.
“Takeout’s fine too, I’d get whatever you wanted,” he pivots before trialing of, chewing his bottom lip then saying a little softer:
“But I would look up recipes too, practice to learn your favorite foods.”
And maybe Eddie really was never supposed to survive the Upside Down. He just maybe completely misinterpreted the way he was gonna fuckin’ die .
“I’d kiss you at the door if that’s okay, if that’s not to far,” then Steve’s bit-sparkle eyes darken even in the hell-dim around them; “or take you to bed if you wanted, but only as much as you were sure.”
And y’known how Eddie’s heat’s been flippy-flopping?
What it starts doing then leave that schoolgirl shit to dhame.
“I want to date you, basically,” and Steve’s shoulders are all squared up, like he’s making a pitch that has any chance of failing, and Eddie does have some working knowing of the past failures…thing, but he genuinely believes those fuckers have been at least partially brain dead to leave a man like this free for the taking, by Eddie of all fucking people.
“I want to try, and see if we can be something,” and the way he says those words, it’s…it’s like a soft perfect flame in Eddie’s chest, the first thing he thinks he can feel again fucking perfectly right,
“‘Cause fuck Eddie, I’ve been looking for something for what feels like forever, and the only thing I keep coming back to for any of it is thinking about you, and ain’t that a plot twist, the deepening of the idea that any of this stretched last what started in that fucking boathouse. “Had a whole-ass sexual awakening over you when you started shepherding my kids, can’t let that go to waste, man.”
And holy shit, dude. Eddie can’t leave him hanging on that confession no matter how mostly-carefree his smile stretches. Because Steve’s been in it since last fall?
Well, Eddie’s not one to easily be outdone.
“What?” Steve squints at Eddie’s face which…okay. He probably looks absurd but he’s trying really hard here, and miming isn’t easy when your muscles don’t want to get on board, yeah?
“Are you,” Steve scrunches his nose; tips his head; considers; “are you trying to,” he frowns, like he’s ready to dismiss what he’s guessing but then says fuck it and leaps:
“Are you trying to whistle?”
Yes, oh my god, sign him up for his marriage license for real, they’re meant to fucking be.
It takes Steve a second to make sense of the absurdity, and the fact that it’s only a second is a feat in itself:
“When I was a lifeguard?”
Eddie watches the timeframe, the length of admittedly varying types and depths but always constant infatuation, start to sink in and then:
“Jesus, Munson, for real?”
And lips are coming for his lips, and he’s real hopeful he can feel them this time but: no. Not yet.
But they fill his lungs up quick and full where he’s getting better which breathing by the minute, but. Any but if a boost is appreciated.
Especially from those lips, felt fully yet or not.
“That’s just because I’m gonna lift you up here in a second to crry you, and it’s gonna hurt like fuck no matter how gentle I try to be,” Steve warns him; “so breathe as slow as you can until I can lay you back down topside.”
Right. Right, because…the Upside Down was breaking apart and they’ve been here how long, fuck, they need to get a mov on…probably.
But Steve doesn’t seem concerned about anything but getting his arms around Eddie to pick him up just right, and then staring at him all star-bright bbsome more, and that’s…way more pressing, to be honest.
“But when we get there,” Steve glances behind him; “how about we look into doing that in a way that’s more spit-swapping, less rescue breathing, that cool?”
And holy fucking shit, Eddie genuinely believes right now that he could fall in love with this motherfucker, what the actual hell.
That, and he thinks he’s gonna enjoy it, to boot.
Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn cracker—
He’s looking forward to it more than the air in his fucking lungs could even hope to rank.
✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here
divider credit here and here
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#wherein steve goes back for eddie#and doesn’t KNOW if he’s still alive#but goddamnit: he has reason to HOPE#confessions#romance#planning a future#idiot4idiot#developing relationship#fluff#humor#snarky internal monologue#an overabundance of flirting in times of mortal peril#steve POV: walking with you through hell was the nicest date I’ve ever had#(maybe less focus on the ex-girlfriend next time; not a deal breaker for a first try but definitely room for constructive criticism)#steve is definitely thinking long term here so: plenty of time to get it just right#also: eddie wants it to be known that just because this bat-venom-paralytic hasn’t worn off yet and he can’t reply with words?#he is NO LESS ENTHUSIASTICALLY ON BOARD with steve’s proposals#baffled a little? sure#but 100% ready and willing as soon as he’s able#the ordeal of asking the cute boy out just after everyone thought he was probably dead#planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals#happy ending#stranger things#steddielovemonth#prompt: time after time by cyndi lauper#hitlikehammers writes#hitlikehammers v words
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yall know what haunts me at night? that one scene of graves and soap where graves is like ‘i’m doing my fucking job, you should try it sometime’ and soap is like ‘my job is killing the enemy. guess what you are’
LIKE OKAYYYYYYYY CHILL ??????
#i reply that scene in my head every hour like clockwork#soap chill the fuck out please my pants are already off#something is internally wrong with me obviously because nothing made me meow quite like that last line#everyone in that scene is so fucking hot i wish i was the laptop tbh#well everyone except the egg head but#price just walking off in attempt to keep his cool#help??? i’m hyperventilating over all of it#task force 141#john soap mactavish#phillip graves#john price#ghost simon riley#gaz garrick#simon riley#john soap#john soap x reader#soap x reader
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I was talking to a friend about how good of a father is batman and he argued that if he really was one he would have his family in therapy. Have you read anything like this in any of the issues? All can think of the top my head is that one Young justice episode.
this is in my opinion, but Batman is a nebulously alright father. Bruce both loves and will intentionally hurt his kids if it’s for the greater good and to protect them. He is a comic book character. To make interesting plots you need to have constant drama, wether it be familial or related to the current comic arc, and for that drama to never fully be quelled so you can recycle the same issues over and over. Comic writers benefit from shitty family dynamics and it wouldn’t be profitable if they had an ok family dynamic that was healthy.
With that out of the way, Bruce doesn’t go to therapy. If he does go his therapist would definitely be Harley Quinn. Publicly he might go to a therapist for his Bruce Wayne persona but would flawlessly portray a playboy bachelor and not address any real issues he has to his therapist. I haven’t seen a comic where he either goes to therapy or gains anything from it. I know in the Caped Crusader tv show Bruce goes to Harley and completely avoids feeding her any true problems about himself and walls himself off completely. This is before he has any robins if I can recall.
Hope this helps!
#i like Bruce to be a good father but you can’t ignore that Bruce does some fucked up shit to his kids#in WFA they definitely have group therapy imo.#a part of comics is you gotta realize that these guys are comic characters and you can’t apply normal family dynamics to them#it isn’t profitable for DC for there to be a family therapist because if there isn’t internal conflict how else can they make D plots#that further the story? idk I’m sorry if this is a disappointing answer homie#that’s what fanfic is for. give them a family therapist and have them talk it out!#bones writes in the tags#dc comics#bones replies#bones answers comic questions
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What do I gotta do to be hired by vile
be gay lack morals
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checked with faculty. we still don’t give a shit about our operatives or their coworkers sorry thanks for being so polite though
it's great that he has a second income (technically his primary one?) and all, but can you wait until after shifts? every single time we're on rehearsals, he gets fucking YOINKED and i have to pull sound AND light tech.
to @vileacademyofficial, from 'the coworker' (y'know, the one from the intro post?)
debut of cs oc?? but the oc is literally 'background character that has to put up with this bs.'
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Is it a coastal African country?
QUESTION 11/20
Yes!
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I’m choosing to believe the green trousers are suddenly a permanent fixture because Michael happened to see David wearing them and was enthusiastic about it.
Ha. I like and appreciate your theory, Anon. I think on the one hand, we can't always attribute everything that David does or says or wears to Michael.
On the other, however...we have certainly seen David's pleased, blushing reaction to Michael's praises on more than one occasion, such as when Michael said David looked "alarmingly attractive" as Nanny Ashtoreth...
More recently, Michael was on the Zoe Ball Show right after the 2024 BAFTAs gushing about how good David looked in a kilt...and it's hard to imagine that he didn't offer similar affectionate praise to David himself (before, during, and/or after the show). So while we didn't get to see David's reaction to what Michael said on the radio, I would think his enthusiasm only spurred David on further (and maybe was even a tiny part of why he wore a kilt again at this year's BAFTAs).
But yes, the green trousers are quite something...and they fit David in a way that I think Michael would definitely enjoy...
Ahh, good times. Well, we may never know for sure if your theory is correct, Anon, but it's great fun to entertain nonetheless. Thank you for writing in! x
#anonymous#reply post#david tennant#soft scottish hipster gigolo#michael sheen#welsh seduction machine#the green trousers#now also officially a tag#i do feel like Michael has told David how good he looks in many things#including/especially his glasses#and David seems to internalize compliments from Michael in a way he doesn't with other people#i always think of Michael describing Crowley's 'swagger'#and how there was no one who has more swagger than David#and now it's like he's fully embodying that#sometimes someone comes into your life not when you expected it#but when you needed it most#love this so much#ineffable lovers#discourse
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plves draw jaykestrel parenting 🙏🙏 i luv jaykestrel i luv their kits i'll be squealing and dancing and kicking my feet if i'll see them together
The fambly,,,
Was low on time today so had to smoosh together a ref and draw over it 🥲 both photos are from I believe warren photographic!!
#drag's art#drag replies#warrior cats#jayfeather#kestrelflight#jaykestrel#kestreljay#pigeonkit#moonkit#briarkit#i love them sm but I'm still fighting my internal demons about posting em LOL#you'd think the huskerdust fambly would've long ago made me lose any shame but ✨not yet✨
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yet another reason to let me have all the five faculty seats. she probably would've gotten away with it but at least i would've had a chance to throw an axe at her
WE JUST BROKE OUT!!!! WAHAHHAHAHAH
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friendly reminder that Neteyam is a well-adjusted kid who has a good relationship with his parents, that he tries his darnedest to be a good warrior because he genuinely looks up to his dad and wants to be like him, and that the idea that Jake and Neytiri are "forcing" him to be perfect, that they "stole his childhood" or that he's "not allowed" to be a kid, etc. are all pure fanfiction with little to no evidence in canon thanks bye
#avatar#avatar 2#neteyam#given how hesitant Jake is to let Neteyam fight I can absolutely GUARANTEE you that there was almost certainly NEVER an interaction...#...in which Neteyam said ''hey Mom and Dad I'm gonna go hang out with Lo'ak and Kiri now''#and Jake and Neytiri reply ''no son you're too old for such childish things you must come do Adult Tasks that you secretly hate instead#so you can be the Perfect Future Olo'eyktan™"#THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN#AND IT'S NOT “IMPLIED” TO HAVE HAPPENED EITHER#Y'ALL MADE THAT UP IN YOUR HEADS#along with the idea that Neteyam secretly hates his lot in life and is internally yearning to be A Normal Kid™#guys Neteyam WANTS to be a warrior he WANTS follow in Jake's footsteps he strives so hard because HE *WANTS* TO OF HIS OWN ACCORD#there is absolutely d i d d l y s q u a t that suggests this path is being “forced” on him#or that he is being secretly ~crushed under the pressure~ and Just Wants to Be Free or w/e#you. made. that. up.#it's not a canon aspect of his character#and. look. if you wanna explore the idea of him being ''crushed under pressure'' in a fanfic#because you find it interesting or it helps you work through your own stuff then hey be my guest#but once you start saying stuff like#''oh i feel so bad for [canon] Neteyam because he died before he could break free of his parents' toxic influence''#Shut Up™#neteyam's parents were not a toxic influence; he was never forced into being something he didn't want to be; his childhood was not “stolen”#he did not have anything to “break free” of. you are injecting extra layers of tragedy that aren't actually there#you are giving yourself extra grief for things that were never canon#stahp#feel free to write whatever you want in fanfiction but please i am begging you#to be aware of which ideas are actually present in the movie vs. which ones are just fanfiction
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so we know daisuke was in baseball, if he went professionally , what do you think his walk in song would be
#justgirlythings#sigma#prompt#headcanons#my take#daisuke fanart#daisuke x reader#intern daisuke#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke juarez#daisuke mw#mouthwashing headcanon#mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#nurse anya#captain curly#curly mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#mw swansea#mechanic swansea#swansea fanart#jimmy fanart#jimmy mw#reply#baseball#space#retro#video games#my husband
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Hello! I just reread the brilliant Radioactive Trees in the Red Forest.... And it made me want more! Do you know any fics that really get into John's sexuality, internalised homophobia etc
Hi Nonny!
First the fic suggestion:
Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.
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Secondly, I unfortunately haven't read this fic yet, so I can't give you EXACTLY fics like it, but you asked for John's sexuality fics, so you might enjoy other fics on these lists here:
John’s Internalized Homophobia
Internalized Homophobia Pt 2
Homophobia / Sexuality / Pride
If anyone has any other fics they'd love to suggest, please do!!!
#steph replies#johnlock fic recs#john's sexuality#internalized homophobia fics#help steph find fics#sexuality fics#fics like fics
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