#would he acknowledge

[nyanrial]

making little snowmen ⛄⛄

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: You want me to what?

Tim: Give this letter to Batman for me.

Danny: Why?

Tim: I need to tell him something, but I can't give him the option of capturing me.

Danny: But he can catch me?

Tim: He doesn't want you.

Danny: Damn, alright.

Tim: No, sorry, I mean - look, just give him the letter and don't tell him anything about me. Here is 10k in cash. Can you do it?

Danny: For 10K? Yeah, okay.

Ten hours later

Danny: LET ME OUT

Bruce: It's okay, son. We're going to help you get your memories back.

Danny rattling the bars: I'm not Tim Drake. He just hired me to give you the letter!

Bruce: A letter claiming Tim Drake was tired of his life with us and that he was going to become a regular citizen, so don't look for him? Your only involvement with the letter and him is that he paid you to delivery it?

Danny: YES!

Bruce: And the fact you both look exactly alike has nothing to do with this?

Danny: I don't question it. You start questioning stuff and bad things happen to you

Bruce: Bad things like memory loss.

Danny: IM NOT TIM DRAKE. LET ME OUT.

Bruce: Until we know what they did to easrse your memories I'm afraid your going to remain in containment.

Danny: WHY!? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING

Bruce: You stabbed Jason

Danny: No, he rudely walked into my knife

[spookberry]

tucker goin thru it

[raconteur-wanpi]

Egghead from Stella's POV is very funny.

[elkkiel]

the exact flavour of aggressive allyship we love to see 😌✌️✨

via twitter:

[dish-soapp]

Idiot kisses himself(s) again 🙄

struggled so hard to make a background and I hate it 😭

[tritoch]

this will forever be the funniest moment in final fantasy xiv to me. you are a bright young officer of the globe-spanning evil empire. over the last few months you've watched the entire empire crumble from the edges inward after the former crown prince killed his father and seized the throne so he could redirect the state toward his own occult ends. you have witnessed unbelievable horrors. you had to kill your own family. finally, you get a chance to stand across from the man who caused all this and ask: why? what was it all for?

and he goes, uh, because i wanted to, dipshit? that's literally the only reason anyone does anything? fuck, you're stupid. if you don't believe me ask literally anyone else. or even like an alien. they'll tell you they do whatever they want for the specific reasons they made up. and like that's literally fine we're all just doing what we want for the cool made-up reasons we each picked.

then a teenager roasts him and he vanishes from history forever. you were probably the last of your countrymen to ever see or speak to him, the man who burned down everything you knew and loved for nothing at all. and like the second to last thing he ever said to you, right between imparting his existentialist philosophy and threatening to kill you, was that aliens are real. he didn't even pause, just said "go ask an alien" and went on with his speech like aliens existing was a baseline assumption everyone could agree on.

[franklyopinionated]

An important Percabeth moment that does not get talked about enough is Annabeth's reaction to Sally being pregnant.

Once they find out that Sally is pregnant Annabeth immediately reads Percy and understands that he's sad about potentially missing out on seeing his little sister grow up. Percy didn't even have to say anything. She's just in-tuned with how he could be feeling. And what does she do? She immediately tells Percy TWICE that she would understand completely if he wanted to change all of their plans for California and college in New Rome in order to stay in NYC. She tells him it's completely ok if he no longer wants to go to New Rome with her.

This is a girl who is canonically terrified of being abandoned but she prioritizes how Percy feels above her own feelings and her own trauma and gives him multiple chances to back out of plans that they had for the next steps of their lives together and gives him the option to do so without him feeling guilty about it for her sake. The fact that he assures her that he wants to stick to their plans is sweet but it's even sweeter that she knows him so well.

[moyazaika]

morning glory; tw yandere, gn reader, mdni 18+

the sun is shining, and the morning sky is a promising, pale blue; you are staring down at the stack of hot pancakes on your plate, to avoid looking at him.

completely unperturbed by your close proximity, he’s standing behind your seat at the table, leaning over; warm arms caging you in on either side as he drizzles sweet, chocolate syrup onto the golden face of the topmost pancake, so that it forms the shape of—

“a heart,” he smiles, “for the love of my life.”

“thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “dig in, darling.”

this fork in your hands, you consider silently, turning it over; should you jab it into his neck?

after he’s made your plate, he sits down in front of his own, across from you. after all of his extensive doting and fussing over you, his own food’s gone cold, but he either doesn’t seem to notice, or he simply doesn’t mind.

you don’t care enough to ask.

he takes slow, thoughtful bites of his own breakfast. you observe, with a bemused sort of awe, the care with which he breaks off the pancake in measured portions, before ensuring each spoonful carries a blueberry, and is dipped in the chocolate syrup.

fork in his mouth, he meets your gaze; takes his sweet time savouring the taste of his food, swallows, smiles at you expectantly. “something on my face, love?”

you turn back to your own plate, completely untouched. “no.”

“alright.” the sound of his fingers, drumming against the dining table. “be a darling and fetch me the milk, will you?”

he’s never allowed you to leave the table until you’ve finished all your food. he’s never even allowed you into the kitchen before. you look up at him warily, voice hushed, “..why?”

“i’d like something to drink, is all.”

you stand very carefully, the grating sound of your chair scraping against the floor making you wince. he says nothing, and so you take that as your cue to take a few hesitant steps into the kitchen.

when you step over the boundary where the wooden floorboards give way to checkered tiles, you turn over your shoulder, suddenly very unsure of what to do next.

“the milk…?”

he’s watching you still, chin resting on interlaced fingers, elbows on the table; even though he was the one who first instructed you that doing so was bad manners.

“yes, love.” he smiles patiently. “should just be in the fridge.”

“okay.”

you’ve never been alone in the kitchen before. never really had any reason to when he insists on making all of your meals. you know you’re technically being supervised even now, but it still feels strange to reach for the fridge handles and just—

“open it.”

you oblige.

you’ve gotten used to it, perhaps.

the cold air hits you in the face as soon as the doors swing open. it takes a moment for your gaze to flitter over all of the different compartments and containers before you catch sight of the milk, and—

why…?

the hair on your skin stands on end.

you read the words once, in a quiet shock.

then another time, as if you simply must’ve read them wrong the first time. you’re in disbelief, going back to the first letter—

your heart drops.

this can’t be happening to you.

—again

—again.

this can’t be happening to you.

your legs give out beneath you.

—and the very moment they do, warm hands, smelling faintly of pancake batter, are there to collect you; keep holding you up, as strong arms wrap themselves right around your body. his kind voice cuts straight through your thoughts. “what’s wrong, my love?”

“that’s…” you raise a shaking finger, point into the fridge. it’s more of a question, the second time around. “that’s…?”

he follows the direction in which you’re pointing, and then he lets out a sigh you can only describe as polite; a dismissive acknowledgement of your distress with no attempt, nor interest, in providing an explanation.

both of you stare at the milk carton where it sits in the fridge, right next to the fruit juice you like so much—beneath the logo, which you’ve traced over a thousand times, bored out of your mind at the breakfast table—is a picture.

an old image of you. younger. smiling.

free.

one word printed beneath the picture, in blocky black letters that take up half of the carton’s packaging, completely impossible to miss—

MISSING

there’s fine print beneath that, even. a smaller string of letters you can’t even begin to read, seeing as it feels like your own world’s tilted sideways; knocked right out of balance. completely off-kilter.

he understands this.

that is why, then, he decides to do it for you.

“town left devastated,” he reads evenly, “over sudden, unexplained disappearance of beloved, active member of community, who vanished without a trace last fall. family members plead with those who may have any information to call the national missing person’s hotline for handsome reward.”

the silence stretches on for a moment, so that the soft, low hum of the refrigerator is the only sound in the house.

“how unfortunate,” he murmurs, tone an imitation of empathy. “the world is only growing unsafer by the day, my love, and this is why,” he brushes your hair out of your face. “i need to keep you so close.”

he closes the refrigerator doors, and carries you out of the kitchen. so completely absorbed in your own shock, you’d neglected to even realise that at some point, he must’ve picked you right up; swept you off your two, very own feet.

“i can’t imagine losing you like that,” he shudders. “i can’t imagine if something like that happened to you, my love.”

he sets you down, very gently, into your seat at the breakfast table. your arms hang limp by your sides, limbs having completely given up on you; so he carefully folds your hands in your lap. pulls out a chair right besides you, and reaches for your cutlery.

“don’t fret over it, darling. as long as you’re with me,” he smiles, cutting into your cold food. “i promise i’ll always keep you safe, and take very good care of you.”

you observe the deliberation with which he breaks off the pancake in measured portions, before ensuring each spoonful carries a soft blueberry, and is dipped in the runny chocolate syrup.

“now open wide, darling.”

you oblige.

what else is there to do?

“try not to think about it too much, my love,” he hums, watching the way your lips fall around the fork, “there is, after all, no use crying over spoilt milk.”

you chew very slowly, taking your time to break the pancake down into something smaller. his eyes, which had been trained on the movement of your throat, now rise to meet yours—

and even though across the table, his plate sits empty: there is, you note, a faint hunger in them.

“wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

the food in your mouth tastes rotten; you don’t answer.

he only smiles patiently in response, as if he has all the time in the world.

the worst part of it all is that outside, you know that the sun is still shining, and the morning sky remains, even now, the same shade of a promising, pale blue.

[bbygirl-aemond]

“He was very fond of me, and i of him” NOOOOOOOO ALICENT STOP THE AVERAGE VIEWER DOESN’T HAVE THE MEDIA LITERACY TO UNDERSTAND THAT YOU CAN’T VERBALIZE YOUR OWN ABUSE DUE TO YOUR UPBRINGING AND YOUR OWN COPING MECHANISMS AND THAT IT MEANS YOU SPEAK KINDLY OF YOUR ABUSER IN A WAY THAT IS NEITHER TRUE NOR DESERVED

[xxplastic-cubexx]

this comic was brought to you by Summer Sux Dot Org

[sandflakedraws]

I don't go here (and am still enjoying all the troll art immensely) but for Flickory maybeeee a soft morning? What would an ideal morning look like for them? C:

if we're talkin about the mornin' after the first time ....

that one ended up feeling pretty ideal for both of them.

[mohntilyet]

illario as the grandchild that is most like caterina is something i'm loving to chew on. the grandson that took her lessons to heart the most. kill anyone who sees your face and knows your name, "we are not revolutionaries", the first out of the two to prioritise the contract. power at any cost, and the only one to lean into the unnecessary abuse that their grandmother told them was tradition. why is anyone surprised he allied with the venatori? and then there's illario's considerable skill in infiltration and manipulating any mark, he has always had the charisma that lucanis lacked. illario isn't attached, he has/can/will use someone and immediately drop them; "that does free me from promises i don't intend to keep". he can lie about how much he cares so well that he fools a magister into believing he loves her. he kills zara without hesitation to cover his own tracks, meanwhile lucanis blindly promises a young girl in the middle of a siege that he will help her find her father. even the lessons about family stick with him, and in this entire messy power struggle, he never actually orders anyone to directly kill caterina or lucanis, not until he's backed into a corner.

and even after all that. despite even lucanis believing illario should be first talon, lucanis is still the better killer. illario is not strong enough to be the brutal assassin caterina needs him to be. so when lucanis seems to fill the role his mother left, grief and love for her dead heir apparent remains, and any of the other qualities caterina needs in her next talon doesn't matter. whatever his mother was, lucanis has to be. what illario does doesn't matter, because he will always be second best to caterina's memory of her favored daughter.

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Todd doesn’t talk much in the beginning but I think one random night Todd would go on a sudden 35 minute rant while doing Latin homework about how poetic it is that the Latin word for love is amor cause it sounds like armor, and love makes you feel safe, and Neil would sit there and listen, occasionally adding in comments if it seems like Todd is winding down to get him started up again, and after that Neil tries to get Todd to go on rants whenever he can so he can just sit and listen to Todd go on, sometimes it works and sometimes, especially when they are out and Todd feels anxious, it doesn’t, but every time he does talk on for long bouts of time, Neil just thinks ‘love makes you feel safe’

[ivvyela]

hey so i’m watching your friendly neighborhood spider-man and i hope nico ends up with pearl and peter ends up with lonnie. please, your friendly neighborhood spider-man, give me what everyone else was afraid to give. give me canon bisexual peter parker.

[kindaasrikal]

‘Kai would be so protective over Wyldfyre dating Roby!!’ ‘Kai hates Jay for dating Nya!’

Okay ONE, Kai does NOT hate Jay, he just rlly likes messing with him cause it’s funny. TWO, overprotective? Over Wydlfyre?? She’d rather eat a couch than deal with that, and he is well aware she would.

And THREE, this idiot walked in on Jay and Nya having a talk, assumed they were having a moment and would kiss, covered his eyes whilst apologising, and then walked into a damn wall.

Why, out of ALL people to choose to make him overprotective for, would you choose his sister who taught him very easily and very quickly she is capable of handling herself, and the literal menace to society

He has to be protective over other people when it comes to Wyldfyre.

Like yes one of his traits is being protective, but he isn’t over protective, and he very easily understands boundaries and what others are and aren’t capable of. They’re ninja, they’re near death almost everyday, Kai is far too used to this to be overprotective.