do   you   want   a   certain   kind   of   ship   with   my   muse  ?   check   out   the   key   below   &   send   me   a   symbol   to   tell   me   what   kind   of   ship   you   want   !     note  :    my   muse   =   blog   owner’s   muse     /     your   muse   =   sender’s   muses

romantic relationships !

💘  friends to lovers ❣️  enemies to lovers 💜  love at first sight 💙  slow burn 💚  skinny love 💔  exes to lovers again 🖤  on again , off again

familial relationships !

🌼  older sibling 🌺  younger sibling 👭  twins 🌻  friends like siblings 🍃  cousins 🌵  parental

friend relationships !

☀️   best friends 🌦   enemies to friends 🌈   friends since childhood  ⛅️  friends of circumstance  ☁️  school friends  🌩  friends from traumatic experiences

enemy relationships !

                             INBOX CLEAROUT // @accelerates​ asked:                  “ my body is going into starvation mode. i think it’s starting to shut down. “

     dick frowns and looks at wally, one eyebrow raised. “and they say that i’m the dramatic one,” he says, huffing a sigh. he stands and tugs wally with him towards the kitchen at wayne manor. alfred usually makes note to keep things more stocked up in the pantry when dick gives him warning that wally’s coming over. “i think that alf made cookies, you could snack on those while i attempt to make us pancakes?” he asks.

the kryptonian appetite is the one thing that truly comes to mind with the term SUPER-STAMINA. with guts equivalent to bottomless GARBAGE pits, they could maybe compare to the speedster metabolism. but no common interest matters when uncanny self-preservation sends a sharp swat akin to stinging nettle to sneaky fingers, followed by a VERY serious, icy scowl.   ❛ one team up doesn’t earn french fry privileges. get your own. ❜

As far as her travels take her, sooner or later it is an inevitability that Shiva will cross paths with one of the masked people. This one, she recognises despite never having met him before. One of those with powers that place him outside of what her skills would allow her to challenge. Usually, this would mean that he is therefore of little interest to her… except this one wears a smile that is just a much a mask as the cowl he wears. And it captures her curiosity. 

and the mask doesn’t fall.      the false face regulates the emotions far too covered in dirt and grime to see the light of day; it’s buried, in laughs and grins and words that’s only use is to pierce through silence - the sort of silence he’s come to loathe, and the sort of silence that seems to follow him, no matter how much noise is taken up in his daily life. silence akin to dreaded snapshots of empty homes, branded into his heart; the silent years spent watching his parents walk through him after unlocking the door, without so much as a word; the silent years spent mourning the warm and loving summer home he could never come back to, after finally being seen, before his uncle had died. and he’s come to know that there’s a silence in death, too. that silence has suffocated him from the moment he’d met it. but the mask doesn’t fall - it can’t. 

because if the mask fell, he would fall too,     and that would be an end he’s unwilling to allow. that would be a silence he couldn’t come back from. he is a legacy, and his personal responsibility is something gnarled - something that has become skewed, and distorted. his importance is in keeping the legacy alive - his importance is in allowing it to thrive, with martyrdom and wit and success.

if legacy falls, then by default it must mean that his mentor fell for nothing.       there’s a beat, before responding. a beat that suspends in time, in his head - it’s lucky, that he has so much time to carefully put himself back together again. it’s a luxury, that before anybody has the chance to blink he can put the mask back on. the beat ends, and his smile only widens, accented by a brief raise of his brow. his mental catalogue is vast, and as he sifts through it with a voracious momentum, he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t know her. he doesn’t, but he has a feeling she knows him, in a way that makes his skin burn.