#I’ve missed him

[lilacjunimo]

no thoughts just Echo pulling this face

[1driedpersimmon]

Random doodles and Wips, been in a Saffron and Zenos mood for no particular reason :)

[girlboss-marv]

I love my princess sm

[chelestials]

SCREAMINGNGNGN

[dxckgrxsonx]

Out of office is ON. Absolutely ZERO customer service duties until Monday and I am sososo relieved!

May i give you all a look at my exbf!dick WIP?

**

Watching that first edge of your relationship catch at the precipice of failure felt so much like grief it was alarming; letting go has never been something you’re good at, especially not when it comes to him.

But you couldn’t stop Dick Grayson from slipping through your fingers the same way he couldn’t stop you from slipping through his.

Ending the relationship was a mutual decision. But that fact brought no relief. He was still leaving you, and in the terrible reflection of that, you were leaving him too.

There was no coming back from that.

**

Your relationship ends on a Tuesday and first thing Wednesday morning you walk into Titans Tower to find Dick standing at the kitchen counter.

Time stalls, your whole life stuttering in a furious backfire.

Whatever you were expecting. It wasn’t this.

Memory blooms against the palms of your hands and it’s tangible, focus hard enough and your fingers could trip along the interlocking bones of his spine. It’s historic recollection, almost twelve months eclipsing the time it takes to blink; one trip around the sun together and your life comes back to you irrevocably changed.

Three hours of sleep isn’t enough to deal with this; you don’t think any amount of sleep is enough for this.

Dick stares at the wall just past your head, mug held halfway to his mouth. He’s still wearing the same clothes as last night, doesn’t look like he’s slept for even a minute, and you could throw a dart at what you’re feeling about that and still not pinpoint it exactly.

Silence seems to echo, then swell, and you can't help but fumble in the face of it, caught in foreign territory. You wasn’t quite sure what you were expecting, but seeing him again so soon wasn’t really on the list. For a moment you consider turning on the balls of your feet and leaving, and yet, you know that won’t solve anything.

A cup of coffee is pushed across the counter in your direction and you stare at it, bewilderment shoved up against the roof of your mouth. You know it’s made exactly the way you like it; know with the same sort of certainty that you bring into mission briefings, the same concrete accuracy you display in combat.

It feels like you’re going fucking crazy.

Glancing at Dick you try to gauge the look on his face but you can’t.

When you first starting dating it was hard to read between his lines–difficult to spot the miniscule changes in his mannerisms–you could stare him straight in the face and miss the switch; miss the split second where emotion filters through the cracks and he shuts it down, hides behind a smooth facade of indifference.

After all the time you spent together it got easier. You learnt. But you look at him now and you might as well have never known him at all.

Dick opens his mouth and every muscle along your spine flexes in preparation, "Let’s not make this weird, yeah?"

Your teeth grind.

What a fucking diplomat.

One thing about you is this: you’re petty. Hand on heart you can’t help it. You get wronged and hit back in the lowest form you can think of–the most inconvenient way your mind can conjure up. The satisfaction you get from it is unparalleled.

Years ago, your uncle told you to leave your own house after a disagreement and in retaliation you parked your car so close to his bumper he couldn’t get out of the space. Then you blocked his number and didn’t come back for three days.

Not once did you regret it.

Dick knows exactly what you’re like; who you are on the inside, and yet he arrives at the solution of damage control. As if that would have ever gotten a positive reaction out of you–as if there would be any moment in your life where you wouldn’t bite all the way back to your molars into something glaringly spiteful.

There’s a split second where you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

He knows you on a level you can’t speak about–knows you through all four seasons and right down to the cosmic dust that interlocks with the fabric of your being–and he’s so brilliantly clever. Strategist since he was a child. You don’t have a doubt in your mind that he knows what you’re about to do before you do it. The revelation stings the same way a papercut does, wound superficial and with clean edges, yet painful no matter what.

Dick Grayson knows you, and in a fit of something helpless and tearful, you wish he didn’t.

The mug of coffee tips in your fingers and you pour the whole damn thing down the drain.

“Yeah.” You say, blinking furiously, refusing to acknowledge the wobble in your voice. “Fuck that.”

Dick stares at you the whole time–the blue of his eyes almost flashing with something un-named–his free hand tightening into a fist. The exhilaration is damning, blood rushing up to greet the sick satisfaction sparking in the hollow of your throat.

Fuck him.

Fuck him so goddamn much.

**

[l3visthighs]

New Levi illustration just dropped! Handsome man 🤍

[rheasbrvtality]

DAMIANNNN

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

looks like I have to let go of my “I never watch horror movies” I hate it here

[stardestroyerss]

Oh Adam….🔥🔥🔥

[aanteater-nose]

dennis and his blue shirts w/ his ken doll titties

[unbroken-teacup]

OLIVIER!!!!!!!! 💙💙💙💙💙

[jeffskinnerswh0re]

sighing so hard

[brycesfav]

our boy is back 💫💫💫

[serosluv2]

Sero Hanta comfort

This song as been on repeat and I think sero would love it

Two gentle knocks stir Sero out of his sleepy daze. His music is still on, the song displayed on his TV. He glances at his alarm clock beside him. 11:34pm. It’s late but not too late. It’s a Saturday night so it’s not a big deal if he sleeps in. Pulling himself up to answer the door the short walk over is done with his eyes closed but as Sero opens the door he gets a whiff of your perfume and suddenly they’re wide open. He’s met with your tired figure. Eyes dragging down, hair disheveled and you look smaller. You’re shoulders are too repaxed and you’re holding your stomach, hunching over. “Y/n? Um are you like ok?” He asked still trying to wake up. At his question your head tilts up and eyes meet his. Sero’s heart breaks a little, he can see the sadness, the stress all of it. “I’m just,” you begin. Your voice is small and sounds like it’s about to crack, “I’m so tired, Sero. I can’t sleep. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t.” You’re trembling now. He knows this isn’t just about not being able to sleep. It’s about all of it. Everything that has happened to you lately, the stress he has seen on your face multiple times in school. You hands go quickly to cover your eyes to stop the stream of tears from falling down you’re cheeks but one manages to slip through the barricade. Sero follows it as it rounds the fullest part of your cheek and quickly falls to your chin but he wipes it away with his hand before it does. That’s what he always does. He always catches you before you fall. Right when you’re over the edge he grabs you and pulls you back. He’s your best friend. He’s more than that but he knows now is not the time to question his position in your life.

“Oh hun, come here.” His voice is empathetic. His hand snakes behind to your neck and the other to your back as he pulls you to him, walking the two of you inside his room. Your arms instinctive wrap around his form, tightly. You’re sobs are prevalent but the sound of Sero’s music the TV is drowning them out. He begins swaying you two around and patting your head trying to calm you down a bit more. When that doesn’t seem to work he resorts to singing along to the music softly in your ear.

“Nothings gonna hurt you baby / Nothings gonna take you from my side”

His voice is gruff with sleep. His eyes close and his head falls to rest on the top of yours.

“When we have a drink or three / Always ends in a hazy shower scene/ Nothings gonna hurt you baby / As long as you’re with me you’ll be just fine”

He makes his way to his bed with you still in his arms. He lays down first, then pulls you softly to lay right on top of him. Your face is hidden in the curve of his neck, the tears have stopped but your hands still tightly fist his shirt. Keeping him close to you. Sero’s eyes flutter shut and his breathing gets heavier and soon sleep embraces the two of you with the sound of his TV still running.

“Nothings gonna hurt you baby”

[luverleaver]

I LOVE BABY

[talkfastcal]

I’m 2 minutes into this hot ones episode with zayn and I’m sitting here like