Good morning to my wife, the sexiest earthbender in the world
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@moon184
Good morning to my wife, the sexiest earthbender in the world
Yandere Jondami is something I’m increasingly becoming a fan of. Gimme the fics.
And maybe it’s a happy pride month to the people who chose safety over being free. Maybe it’s for the people who knew that the people around them would never accept them, and maybe they chose the weak way out. Maybe I want this pride month to be for the people who wanted their safety net, who wanted their Mums and Dads to love them anyways but knew they’d never come around. Maybe they don’t care enough to lose all of that. Or maybe they’re too scared.
Maybe this pride month is for the people who chose to live it a secret.
Happy pride month to you all. I love you, and you’re seen.
mind you, there’s fucking Ebola cases out in the DRC but no these stupid men in power only care about how big their fucking bombs are
watched the final season of stranger things w my cousin who’s obsessed w the show and didn’t even clock how much he probs loves byler (this boy is either so far in the closet he has no idea or he’s just accepted it)
I am knee deep in ovulation and it’s a heatwave so everyone is fair game rn
There was no other option, he told himself. Nothing left.
His batarangs were scattered across the floor of the alley, his utility belt still somewhere in the warehouse they were previously locked in. They’d just barely got out in time before one of them had gotten a hold of Robin and held the muzzle of a gun to the side of his head. All his contingencies were out the window.
Damian was severely injured already; broken fingers, collarbone and a suspected dislocated shoulder that seemed to get worse during the struggle in the alley.
He had no choice. Damian was incapacitated. He was barely awake, let alone able and fighting enough to get the gun away from his head.
And Bruce, in a moment of weakness, just panicked.
The other guy was lying on his side after Bruce rendered him unconscious but not before shooting a bullet through his knee. He felt the burn through his joints, at the copper piercing through the plated armour. His hands didn’t shake when he made the decision.
He barely even thought about it before he picked up the gun on his side, left by another goon who’d been knocked out earlier, and fired.
Still, his hands shook after as the ringing from his ears died down, smoke hazing his view of the dead body in front him.
Fuck. Fuck.
He just shot someone.
The nausea came in a heavy wave. His stomach roiled as he leaned down to gag at the sight, of the blood seeping out of the body and coating Damian’s boots in that sticky red substance the way it coated his dress shoes all those years back on the way home from the theatre.
And in that moment, he betrayed everything he once stood for. He betrayed his parents. His vows. His son. Everything.
Damian, a heap on the floor, stirs beside him, slowly coming back to consciousness as he processes the scene in front of him.
Bruce is on his knees in front of the body, just like he was all those years ago. He’s not really sure he ever got up.
“What did you do, Baba?”
little lamb
Blue promise.
Just watched the sheep detectives and all I can say is that I love that little lamb so much someone save me
"it's just stress" oh thank god, it's just the silent killer that slowly kills you, perfectly harmless, no need to worry
btw it's so fucking stupid you can be anxious physically in your body even after you've decided mentally you don't care. I'm supposed to be in charge here
Duke appreciation, let him interact with his siblings more often dc 🙏
@numberonedukethomasapologist
occasionally, you will discover an artist who drew roughly 300 beautiful pictures of your favorite characters over the course of a month and then never touched them again. you must accept this as a gift.