#exposure writing

[lo-fag]

Reading ride or die after long exposure like

(all of these characters belong to @marsoid)

[foggysilverfeathers]

Everyone on Hermitcraft knows redstone dust is unbelievably incredible. Everyone on Hermitcraft know redstone is unbelievably dangerous.

Sure, it’s behind every fake decorative door and the key to making a base really shine, but they’re careful. They know the risks. Xisuma is so paranoid that he never takes his mask off, even when it’s safe. Tango makes sure to never have exposed redstone wires, and keeps any open lines tucked away in a closed-off sterile area. Even Impulse has started wearing a respirator.

But Mumbo?

Mumbo’s a special case.

(Sure, inhaling it is akin to inhaling slightly toxic dust, but that’s never stopped him! Everyone else is just being dramatic. And it’s not like anybody has ever died from it, either!)

(Not yet, anyway.)

(And sure, his hair is a bit greyer than the last time he checked, but that’s natural! People age! Salt and pepper hair looks good on him, anyway! He isn’t bothered!)

(Sometimes, it scares him. The lengths he’ll go.)

(It whispered to him yesterday. It told him to kill Gem.)

(Kill the Constellation.)

(That’s what it had said. But Mumbo had somehow instinctively understood, and had killed her.)

(Of course, she respawned. A bit surprised, and a bit wary at his newfound strength and almost inhuman speed, but unharmed.)

(After all, she had a bed. He hadn’t gone as far as break that. Part of him had still known that would have been a bad idea.)

(He’d avoided redstone after that. It was angry with him for disobeying It, after all, but even from a distance he felt It. Red dust swirled in his veins and his breaths came in short bursts. Despite everything, he found himself going back.)

(He couldn’t help himself. It was like that deadly exposure was a drug, and he was fully under its power.)

It didn’t hesitate, and soon that strangely comforting creaking whisper came from the darkness.

Kill the Sun.

“You mean Grian?” Again, part of him flinched at how he instinctively knew who It referred to, but that part was soon washed away. It felt good talking to it. The glow of it ebbed and flowed, pulsing in time to his heartbeat.

The dust was shifted slightly by a nonexistent wind, than settled again. Mumbo tasted metal and blood at the back of his throat.

Yes. G-r-i-a-n. He sees too much.

It flickered again, and Mumbo felt one hand drift forward to touch it. He didn’t really know why, but part of him wanted to.

He ẇ̵̫̹a̷̜̺̮̾̾͆̒̌̓ţ̵̮̖̙̲͖̬̓c̷͈̽̔h̵̠̚̚e̴̮͙̝͋͛̏̒̈́͘s̴͓̼͚͍̹̈́͛͠ͅ.

[yourhighness6]

Me, screaming into the void: I DON'T HATE MAI I JUST FEEL LIKE SHE NEEDED MORE DEVELOPMENT OUTSIDE OF ZUKO AND HER ARC SHOULDN'T REVOLVE AROUND HER LOVE INTEREST

Also me, still screaming into the void: I DON'T HATE AANG I JUST QUESTION WHETHER HIS ROMANTIC INTEREST IN KATARA BRINGS OUT THE BEST SIDES OF HIM AND FEEL AS THOUGH HE AND HIS DEVELOPMENT IS NOT ABOVE NECESSARY CRITICISM

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm bad at math, but is Bruce theoretically 38 years old when he goes into the time stream?

Hear me out (and canon likes to fluncate their ages, so this is my best guess without trying to account for birthdays):

Bruce becomes the legal guardian of 9 year old Dick when he's 23. That's a 14 year difference.

Jason becomes Robin when Dick leaves at 18. Jason is 13. That's a five year difference.

Jason dies at 15, and Tim becomes Robin at 13. That's a two year difference.

The age difference between Tim and Bruce would thus be 21 years.

Tim becomes Red Robin to find Bruce at 17.

That means that Bruce had to be 38, right? Why was I imagining him closer to 50?

Adopting so many kids must have aged him

[itsforexposure]

"we are already undervaluing you, why don't you just give out your creative work for free from now on?"

[murdrdocs]

OMG YAYAYAYYAYA anyway.

above ryan being sexy and funny and smart (he goes to an ivy after all) he’s just POSSESIVE

he likes marking his s/o up and making sure people know that they’re taken. he likes buying them clothes in his school colors and he takes pride in seeing them walk around in all of it

not to mention he’s definitely good in bed but that’s for another time

this is so the vibes of this piece by @/cozymaples and ur both so right

he has what's his, and it's his for a reason. why would he even dream of sharing? he doesn't want to share, you don't want to be shared, but other people can't seem to get the memo. and ryan can't be around all the time to make sure everyone else knows that you're taken so he does what he can.

he buys you harvard sweatshirts that he graciously drenches in his overpriced cologne, knowing that when someone asks if you go there, you'll tell them that he does instead. he adores seeing you wear the crimson merch around town, but even more he likes seeing you wear them with nothing else on. he gifts you a charm bracelet for christmas one year, one that he knows people will compliment so each time you're able to say your boyfriend bought it for you. and because he knows sometimes this won't suffice, he keeps you marked up, despite your complaints that it's embarrassing when you're having lunch with your mother and she squints at your bruised neck.

but he's not having it, big hands on your hips as you stand in front of him. "c'mon, babe. you know what time it is," he always tells you with a small smile, head lolled back at he stares up at you with big brown eyes. you'll pout, try to dissuade him once more hoping that this time he'll listen. which, he doesn't, and you end up with ryan's lips abusing the previously healed and unmarked skin of your jugular until you're left with marks that'll definitely bruise. and he always sits back with a pleased expression, swollen lips curled up into a proud smile before he spreads your legs and situates himself between them to give you your prize for behaving so obediently.

[rieamena]

i dont care what ANYBODY SAY and if its self-indulgent but I KNOW that INO TAKUMA LOVES BLACK GIRLS i can feel it in my soul

contains: ino having a major crush on you, non-sorcerer au, black!fem!reader working at a cafe, nanami & ino are more friends than mentor/mentee

wc: 1.2k

part two: the first date!

ino who is star struck when he walks into the cafe that he was meant to meet nanami at for lunch and sees you. your bright smile as you tend to a customer lights up the cafe, going beautifully with your skin. the way you move with grace and confidence behind the counter captivates him, making it impossible for him to look away. he’s completely entranced by the warmth you give in your interactions with everyone. he finds a suitable table and sets down his things, his eyes never leaving you. you finish up with your current customer and consider walking over to take his order but hesitate, noticing that he must be waiting for someone.

ino who's eyes accidentally meet yours and he starts freaking out. texts nearly every group chat he's in, frantically typing, "GUYS WHAT DO I DO!!! OUR EYES JUST MET..... GUYS??? HELLO???" his phone lights up with multiple teasing and encouraging notifications, but none seem to be helpful in the moment.

ino who musters up the courage to walk up to the counter and order a few things from the menu hanging above your head. he lies and says he's not sure what to get, asking for your input instead. "i recommend the vanilla strawberry trifle cake with our signature iced honey lemon tea!" you pointed to the cake in the display next to you. ino hums in approval, "i'll get that then!" you entered his order into the screen before you, looking up when you heard your name. "y/n? is that right?" ino tilted his head, eyes on your name tag. "yeah...!" you beamed before collecting yourself, signaling to the card reader at the edge of the counter. "it's pretty, just like you."

ino who immediately taps his card and runs away to his table, silently begging for nanami to come quicker, his heart dropping when he sees nanami's "i'm going to be late." text. his head goes straight into his hands, unbelievably embarrassed. you watch him retreat, a soft smile on your face and turn to start preparing his order.

ino who sulks for 30 seconds before realizing that this is the perfect opportunity to get to know you a bit more. he sends a picture of the menu to his colleague and within seconds got a reply. "i'll have a croissant with black coffee, thanks. be there in 15." taking a deep sigh, ino walked back to the counter, playing with his hands. feeling someone's presence, you yelled out "sorry! i'll be right- oh its you!" walking over to where he was, you continued speaking, "is everything okay? wanna change your order?" ino shook his head and signaled behind him, "no no! i'm ordering for my friend." friend?, you thought, eyes looking past him and at the table he claimed. "but there's no one there?" you looked up into his eyes and ino could've sworn his heart skipped a beat. looking back, as if he expected nanami to randomly appear, he laughed, "yeah, you're right. he's running a bit late, though it would be better to just not come at all." "why's that?" you continued preparing his order, pouring ice into a glass. "well our lunch break ends soon..." ino pauses, checking the time, "in like 20 minutes or so."

ino who tries his best not to laugh as you whip your head around to look at him. "20 minutes?!?! oh my god..." you finished making his tea and quickly moved over to the display to cut him a generous piece of the cake he ordered. slice of cake and glass of tea in hand, you walked back to the man, placing it in front of him. "here ya go... sorry about that. what would your friend like?" the man's gaze was directed slightly above your eyes. "your hair... it got out of place..." shuffling to find the nearest reflective surface, the man continued to speak "wait...! i got you. don't worry!" he pulled out his phone, opening the front camera and turning it towards you. peering into the device slightly, you fix your sections and the decorative scarf on your head. "thank you for that....." your voice trailed off at the end, needing something to complete your thought. ino took a few seconds but ultimately understood with a big smile on his lips. "ino."

ino who finds it hard to not self-destruct when he hears his name on your lips. "thank you for that ino, and for that compliment from before too." he chokes on his breath, violently coughing afterwards. "yeah...! uh, no problem! just calling it how it is..." he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "if it helps, i think you're pretty cute yourself!"

ino who finds himself coming back to the cafe every day. never forgetting to order something extra for his friend. "let me guess, a black coffee and croissant for nanami?" ino softly laughs and nods, and you give him the pastry and drink that you prepared ahead of time. "yeah but im off today. i'll just be dropping it off at the office." "wait..., you're here on your off day? isn't your job super stressful? why dont you relax at home?" "being able to see you is relaxing. how could i miss a day of conversation with the prettiest girl in the world?" you stared at him, feeling heat rise to your face. "do i look good?" "good?" ino questioned. "baby, you're stunning." he pouted, thinking that you might be feeling insecure in the moment. smiling and letting out a sigh, you corrected yourself, "no i mean, does my hair look okay? my clothes look straight?" you gave him a quick 360 as you smoothened out your work uniform. ino silently ohhed as he searched your form for any imperfections. "nope! nothing out of place." "thanks, wanted to make sure before i do this." ino stayed silent and you took that as an okay to continue. "okay... i can do this... uh ino, can i... have your number?" you stared at his expressionless face before burying your head in your hands.

ino who thinks something is up when you give him that request. "y/n, did you read my mind last night?" "what?" your eyes met his and they widened when you found ino already looking at you. "last night, i told myself that i was finally going to ask you out but here you are beating me to it!" you let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding and giggled. "well, since i beat you to it." you unlocked your phone and created a new contact, handing it over to ino. he briefly poses for the contact photo and saves his number in your phone. giving your phone back, he speaks. "on one condition." "which is...?" you put your phone back into your apron pocket, smiling coyly. "i get to take you on a date?" ino's tone was soft, unsure if his advance was going to land the way he wanted. "of course you can."

ino who turns away from you and begins celebrating as if he's invisible. he does multiple yes! motions before abruptly stopping, collecting himself, and turning back to you. "so uh, your shift ends in 30, right?" ino glanced at the clock, his forearms resting on the counter, bending over slightly. looking at the small digital clock on your right, you nodded. "i'll wait for you then."

first jjk post hello???!!! first post in a year hello?!?!? this is my first time writing in sooooo long i swear but i feel that i really needed that break and i think i got better (i hope i got better) as usual if you liked this let me know! likes, comments, + reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. love yall <3

[tiredlakes]

the beauty of life is strange

[necrotic-nephilim]

"--but why should I let you go when you look so pretty like this?" w/JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

this one was such a fun pick, anon. i will warn you, this one has some... very dark dialogue. the JayTim is absolutely unrequited, but Tim is forced in a situation where he has no other choice bc of some Ra's tomfoolery. you *could* read into there being Ra'sTim as well, but that's not the focus, it's just 2.8k of unhinged JayTim. enjoy <3

Tim had lost count of the days.

He was pretty sure he was somewhere in the range of ten days and two weeks. He couldn’t use how often he was fed as a gauge when it seemed purposefully sporadic to throw him off. There were no windows in his cell.

Not that it looked like a cell, but Tim insisted on mentally calling it one, mostly for fear of Stockholm Syndrome getting the best of him. No matter how large the bed was, with an ornate carved cedar headboard and cotton sheets. No matter the plush carpets and en suite bathroom with a gloriously large shower with limitless hot water. No matter the shelf full of books to keep him entertained and patterned wallpaper.

This was still a prison. Tim was still forcibly attached to the bed by a long chain connecting to a thick metal cuff around his wrist he’d yet to figure out how to pick.

Tim had to let himself believe the lock could be picked. He had to hold onto hope there was some kind of escape.

The real contrast of the lavish room wasn’t the chain, though. It was Tim’s current state, naked and questionably close to bleeding out.

Not that it would matter if Tim died.

Ra’s al Ghul had already revived him with a Lazarus Pit at least four times, and he had made it clear he had no qualms doing it again. And again.

Tim went with ‘at least’ as a mental marker, because he was certain the Lazarus Pit was starting to influence his mental state.

However many times it took, repeating the vicious cycle of coming in to torture Tim until his body gave out, then giving him a violent, unwanted rebirth. Each time, Tim was pretty sure he lost a piece of himself, somewhere deep in those glowing waters.

He was sure he’d been angrier and fighting harder to break free once. Now, that anger was drifting somewhere in the Pit, far out of Tim’s reach. Tim had heard that rapid repeated exposure to the waters of Lazarus could have degrading effects on one’s mental state.

But he never thought he would learn that firsthand.

Instead of fighting and clawing at the wrist cuff like Tim had been doing for days, he just laid on the bed, sprawled out and staining the chartreuse sheets a bright crimson, staring at the cuff. One time, Tim had clawed at the cuff until his nails ripped out of their beds and he was biting a pillow in pain, watching his skin shred trying to pull it apart.

Those injuries, much like his feral desperation, were washed away now. Every scar Tim had earned over the years was gone now. He was losing pieces of himself.

After his next death, Tim promised himself he’d redouble his escape efforts. Run his hands along the walls again, test the door frame, find something that he must’ve missed his first dozen tries. He wasn’t going to let himself rot here and be changed into someone else, just wearing the corpse of Tim Drake.

Ra’s could take a lot of things, but he couldn’t have Tim’s humanity.

For now, though, Tim was just going to lay in the bed, breathing as shallowly as he could. All his body’s survival instincts were in overdrive, making him light-headed and his heartbeat a rapid, fluttering thing, trying desperately to hold on. He had yet to figure out how to get his body to let go of those responses yet.

Because the worst part wasn’t dying. The worst part was the animalistic attempt to survive that came just before his body gave out. Tim’s mind had fought alongside his body the first time he died. The second time too.

By the third, Tim had just naively hoped Ra’s would let him stay dead.

Now, Tim was just tired and waiting for it to be over with.

Just when Tim was considering getting up and trying to speed up the process, he heard a commotion. He lifted his head and squinted.

The ninjas who brought his food were always so silent in how they moved that Tim couldn’t hear them even when they were in the room. So the running feet, the yelling-

The gunshots.

Definitely a fight. Tim snapped back to reality. He sat up as fast he could, trying not to let his body dip and sway the way his perception did. It had crossed Tim’s mind, that rescue would come at some point. But he refused to hold onto it as anything other than a futile last hope.

And even now, it didn’t feel real.

No one who would save Tim used guns. The ninjas definitely didn’t use guns either. Tim carefully wrapped the chain around his fist. Whatever energy was left in his body was better spent fighting like hell than just laying there and accepting death.

The door to Tim’s room slammed open and Tim sucked in a breath.

Of all the people it could’ve been.

“Look at that,” a smug, modulated voice crowed. “I’m the lucky guy who actually found your sorry ass.”

Jason Todd reached up and pulled his Red Hood helmet off, shaking his hair loose. Tim didn’t like the look of his smile.

Granted, he didn’t like the look of Jason Todd in general, but that was beside the point.

“What are you doing here?” Tim hissed through clenched teeth.

Jason just shrugged, walking into the room with slow, casual steps. “Bats wanted to find you bad. Bad enough he was willing to call me and offer a truce if I helped storm the stronghouse.” He shrugged like it meant nothing to him. “Looks like you’re lucky I said yes. You’re already half dead.”

“Others are here?” Tim’s breath caught on his hope.

“The whole fucking calvary.” Noises of a brawl sounded in the distance and Jason spread his hands, as if his point was proven. He took another step forward just as a ninja ran into the room, sword raised and charging Jason. Before Tim could warn him, Jason shot the person in the head over his shoulder, making them drop to the floor. A full-bodied flinch went through Tim at the sight of blood spraying the beautiful wallpaper. With an annoyed huff, Jason turned and kicked the door shut.

He didn’t signal for backup. Tim’s skin prickled at the sight of the shut door and Jason stalking toward him.

“This is the part where you say thank you,” Jason prompted lazily, getting within an arm’s reach of Tim. Tim couldn’t stop his body from recoiling, eyes flicking down to the dead body on the floor. “Oh come on. Now’s not the time to worry about morals. I gave them a quick death. You should be thanking me for that too.”

“I’ll thank you when you get me out of this,” Tim said, lifting his arm to show the cuff. He pressed his palm against the cut on his chest, the one responsible for most of his blood loss. Ra’s had blamed Tim for that one, saying it was his fault for squirming too much. Tim knew better, though. He knew every drag of Ra’s’ blade was always exact and purposeful.

Jason tilted his head to the side and leaned in close. He smiled with tiger teeth and snake eyes. “See, I would but-” his eyes dragged up and down Tim’s battered form- “why should I let you go when you look so pretty like this?”

Tim was suddenly all too aware of how naked he was, skin prickling. He grabbed a handful of sheets and yanked them over his lap, trying to cover himself. Jason made no move to stop him, just watching the motion of Tim’s arm as it grasped for a crude attempt at modesty.

“You said Bruce is here,” Tim chose his words carefully, trying not to show fear. He was better than being afraid of Jason of all people. He blamed the worst of his feelings on the vulnerable state he was already in. His fingers clenched the sheets to hide the way they shook.

“He’s around somewhere,” Jason waved his gun in the air dismissively. “But he’s not here, is he?” Another wave of the gun to gesture to the room. Jason’s eyes flicked down to the gushing chest wound. “You really need to cauterize that.”

“Do I look like I have something to cauterize it with?” Tim shot back, sluggishly. He didn’t let Jason distract him from the real point. “If you try anything, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Jason rolled his eyes. He searched around his utility belt, pulling out a lighter and a knife. “Tattle to Bruce? Fight me?” He snorted. “I don’t know which is more amusingly unrealistic.” He flicked the lighter on and held it under the knife.

Tim watched the blade heat up, eyes widening. “You’re not going to-”

“You’ve got a better idea?” Jason arched an eyebrow. “It’ll really piss B off if you fucking die.”

“Won’t be the first time,” Tim muttered under his breath. He cringed as soon as the words came out. That was too much information to be giving to Jason.

Another cruel snort came from Jason. “You got your own taste of the Pit, didn’t you?”

“No,” Tim tried to lie, shifting a bit.

“You did,” Jason hummed. He leaned in even closer, until his face took up Tim’s entire field of vision. “Trust me, I recognize the look in your eyes. Hold still.”

That was the only warning Tim got before a red hot blade was pressed against his skin. Tim opened his mouth to scream against the burning pain, but gloved fingers were shoved into his mouth to muffle the noise.

Tim tried to bite down on Jason’s fingers hard enough to break them, but the gloves were too thick and his body was too weak. All he could do was glare and grasp at the sheets.

The look in Jason’s gaze was terrifying. His lips held a slight smile and he looked hungry, eating up all of Tim’s tormented noises. Tim’s pain was a feast for Jason’s sadism. Tim was struggling just to stay alive and Jason looked like he was having the time of his life, licking his lips and swallowing hard.

Tim was starting to think maybe he preferred Ra’s over this.

Finally, Jason pulled the knife off of Tim’s searing skin and Tim sagged in relief. He almost fell over before Jason caught him around the waist, pressing Tim against his suit. Blood smeared over Jason’s jacket.

His fingers were still in Tim’s mouth.

Tim tried to speak around them but Jason just forced his fingers in deeper, making Tim gag.

“I could probably sneak out with you, you know,” Jason whispered into Tim’s ear. “Tell Bruce I got bored and left. They’d just think it was a bust.”

TIm had never understood Jason’s complex over him. He knew it was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. With Ra’s, Tim could at least find the root of the obsession.

With Jason, not so much.

He was always breathing down Tim’s neck and trying to get a rise out of Tim. Wanting Tim to work with him, pay attention to him, anything he could get. It reminded Tim of trying to tame a needy dog.

This was a step too far, though.

This made it all make sense in ways Tim regretted knowing as soon as it hit him. He twisted his head around until he managed to spit out Jason’s fingers, coughing.

“You don’t have Ra’s’ manpower,” Tim bit out the words. He tugged hard and uselessly against his cuff. “You couldn’t hold me for long.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Jason hummed. “Tell me, Drake, you pissed off enough to actually try to kill me, yet? Or do you need another dunk?”

“Give me that knife and find out,” Tim curled his hand into a fist. He was bluffing. Just the thought of killing someone nauseated Tim, his eyes briefly flickering over to the dead body on the floor.

No amount of the Lazarus Pit could turn Tim into that. A cold-blooded killer who didn’t even look before he shot. Tim was better than that.

He was better than Jason.

He just had to distract Jason long enough to find where he kept his lock-picking tool, stab him in the eye with it, and then break free and find anyone else.

Maybe Tim was against murder, but there was just enough cold rage in him to crave bloody violence. He squirreled away his logical thoughts on the matter, for now. The situation warranted just a bit of brutality.

Someone had to teach Jason that he didn’t always get to have what he wanted.

Jason dared to groan softly. “Tempting. So fucking tempting. How would you kill me, Drake? Would you gut me? Slit my throat?” He sounded far too into the idea of it. The knife in his hand started trailing up Tim’s bare back. Not deep enough to cut, but still leaving goosebumps of fear in its threatening wake. “We borrow enough Lazarus water and we can take turns killing each other.”

“Borrow,” Tim echoed the word with an incredulous laugh. “Like Ra’s would let you.”

Jason’s laughter was sickening. “Didn’t plan on asking permission.” He paused, just as the knife dragged up to the base of Tim’s skull. “I’m serious, you know.” His voice got quieter. “I’d do it if you wanted to.”

“Kill each other?” TIm’s heart was pounding. He was doing the exact opposite of getting himself out of this situation. He was sinking deeper and deeper into Jason’s clawed grip and didn’t know where the escape route was anymore. He couldn’t pull away from the hold, with the knife pressed where it was. He definitely couldn’t fight Jason like this.

Tim was trapped in what he was pretty sure was a prison of his own making.

“Kill, kiss, fuck.” Jason shrugged. “I’ll take any of the above.”

Tim swallowed down blood and bile. “You couldn’t handle me.” He couldn’t show fear. More than couldn’t, he refused to. Giving Jason his fear would just spur Jason on more. Or maybe piss him off to the point of just killing Tim and leaving him there.

Now, with the teetering edge of Tim’s sanity under Jason’s scrutiny, Tim was positive he’d shatter if he got dipped in those green waters again. And he refused to let Jason keep the pieces left of Tim to himself.

He was not going out like this.

“Wanna bet?” Jason asked. “Winner takes all.”

He sounded insane. He probably was.

And he wasn’t letting Tim dance around a lack of an answer any longer. The tip the knife started to press harder until blood was trickling down his spine.

Placating Jason seemed to be the obvious and smartest survival method. If Tim faked it long enough, he’d have to have an opening sooner or later.

“If you can keep me alive long enough to get the hell out of here, then we’ll talk,” Tim chose his words as carefully as he could. He kept his tone light, in a way that was practically teasing. He hoped it was enough.

Jason practically preened, his whole body shivering against Tim’s. He lifted the knife from Tim’s neck to reach for his belt. Tim was able to suppress his sigh of relief, hearing the lock on his cuff click.

“Can you stand?” Jason asked, pulling away to stand up, but still keeping a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Possessively, almost.

Tim gave him a withering look. “Do I look like I can stand?”

“Good point.” Jason shrugged. He lifted Tim almost too easily, an arm around Tim’s waist to haul him off the bed, forcing the sheet to fall away. “God.” Jason paused for just a moment, looking over Tim’s naked form. It made Tim felt studied under a microscope in a way that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

He’d just signed a deal with the devil, and he was already regretting it.

Jason managed to snap out of it and carried Tim toward the door. Tim just held onto Jason’s neck for support and closed his eyes, trying to convince himself he hadn’t just made the stupidest decision of his life. He could still distantly hear other Bats fighting off ninjas. Salvation so close to Tim, yet still out of reach. Jason easily stepped over all of the dead bodies as they slunk through the hallways, away from the noise and into the darkness.

Tim couldn't escape the awful chill crawling down his spine; pressed against someone who was possibly more psychotic than the madman he was being promised escape from, grandeur illusions traded for the ugly truth of Jason's desire. His flicker of hope felt like it was being snuffed out by every heavy step of Jason’s boots. The best he could pray for was for Jason to give him a cell as nice as the one they were leaving behind. 

Out of one den of vipers and into another.

[cacaocheri]

this is something I've been debating about posting because the likelihood of me actually finishing this project is kind of up in the air (just because I get distracted easily). but if I started posting more about my Personal Project on this account would that be something y'all would be into. would that be chill. should I make a different account for it. who's to say

[snailvibes]

Redid my Max design!!!! Also enjoy a lil timeline of her and her appearances!!

[oneluckydragon]

Thinking about how these two met. Get adopted, idiot.

More human!Echo.

[eternalgirlscout]

it's so important as a fic author to write your special little guy acting gay as hell and then point and laugh at him for acting gay as hell

[doublel27]

Moo: I have a boyfriend.

Everyone else: You’re trying to become an idol. Maybe tone that down.

Moo: I SAID I HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND HE’S GONNA BE MY HUSBAND! AND I WILL FIGHT ANYONE WHO DOESN’T LIKE IT!

[inamindfarfaraway]

I imagine Raven becoming a professional musician when she’s older, getting her start writing and performing protest songs against the legacy system (like when she rewrote the Legacy Day song off the cuff in the first book). She diversifies as she grows more comfortable with the spotlight and expressing vulnerability to the public. She sings about her love, her doubts and fears, her friends, her family. It’s very cathartic to be seen and heard, truly listened to, and shown empathy as well as admiration for being sincere and sentimental and silly and, well, human, in front of a huge crowd. Not just the next Evil Queen or the brave Rebel leader. She hones her wit, craftsmanship and patience too, the hobby teaching her the value of time management and disciplined study far more than school, though she’ll never be as organized as Apple. It feels good creating wonderful things through hard work, no magic required. Every Queen has had magic. This is all her own. The more royal responsibilities she takes on over the years, the less free time she has for her music. But she still releases new songs every now and then and enjoys performing when the chance arises.