#batman#bruce wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#batfamily#batfam#dc fanart
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i shall declare that the heathers are called "the traffic lights"
Just wait until I post chapter 9 of Silver Bullet. That’s exactly what’s gonna happen.
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I still listen to our songs,
My heart still remembers the way your face would light up at the sound and lyrical genius of it.
I miss those moments,
I miss calling you mine,
Come back to me.
My kiss trembles against yours there is a mutany erupting in the space behind my lips. How could you do this?
Me
Open your eyes
Something wakes you from your dream. A rustling in your room and the unshakable feeling of being watched. You feel the heavy presence of someone, or thing, but how? You went to bed very much alone. You have yet to open your eyes for fear of whatever it is knowing you have woken. You feel it move about. Circling you, almost, like prey. You begin to hear heavy, wet breaths, and feel malicious intent brewing. Your heartbeat quickens, you sweat, and begin to tremor as fear holds you in his fist. But you haven’t opened your eyes, terror has glued them shut. You feel it then. A weight upon your bed, an unwanted sinking of the mattress. You feel the heat of its body mingling with your own. It is close to you, now. Dinner for whatever beast. You clench your hands tight and prepare to jump up when The weight is lifted from your bed, the heavy air thins. Could it be? Is it gone? You feel your body relax. You take in a gulp of air, let out a shaky sigh of relief, and let your eyes open- And see a pair staring right back at you.
Oh my gawd!
Just post my first ever fic on ao3! It's my idea for Sherlolly post TFP. How dare you The Final Problem for making me do this? ;p
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Life has been busy lately.
To be vulnerable, I need to come clean about something.
...
I'm a sucker for friends to lovers. I said it.
It's my all time favourite trope and it's the best.
But...it's always done wrong. I want to read a friends to lovers where the both of them have genuinely been FRIENDS then it changed for them all of a sudden.
No miscommunication, no dating/seeing/getting married to other people then realising they love each other. No being a relationship while secretly wanting the other person. No hurting other people.
I don't want a summer romance. I've hated summer romance since: every summer after, love and other words and picking daisies on Sundays.
I want a good friends to lovers. PLEASE
Day 7.
I'm reading my second T.L swan and the verdict is out. I'm 241 pages into the 424 pages book. The MMC is so bad.
I love me a good age difference romance but authors just write babies as the men.
Lucy score writes 40+ years old men with mommy and daddy issues.
T.L swan writes men with emotional unintelligent me.
Marianna Zapata writes men that have the potential to be liked but aren't. Wait for it was good but it wasn't IT
Micalea smelter writes about creepy over intentional men. What do you mean Thayer or what ever his name was in 'the resurrection of a wallflower' turned his basement to a gym for someone he barely knows.
As a reader I beg you guys to write older men who are bossy but not condescending. Older men or just men who are over intentional it's creepy. Men who love genuinely and not lustfully.
The stopover is the name of the book I'm reading now. The guy called her a bitch for half of the book. Had 3ex with her the other half then added a tinge of gaslight and manipulation.
So I've decided my challenge would be to post consistently, everyday for a month. I know we're already 13 days into the month but I'm day 3 into posting daily so I'll end July 13.
I said I was going to share something I wrote so here we go...
Nude. I stare at myself in the mirror, noticing for the hundredth time how imperfect my body it. Cellulite, stretch marks, folds and spots. In the eyes of society I'm everything that makes up the word ugly.
I do feel ugly. Sometimes. I'm probably ugly but I look in the mirror and I love what I see, for just a brief second. I stare at the clean white towel on the wall, thinking if I should cover up and shield myself from myself. Fools thought.
I look at myself and imagine a future where I feel pretty without any folds, stretch marks, spots and Cellulite. I imagine a future where I hate myself enough to change my habits. I imagine a future where society smile upon me and deem me worthy of attention and love.
Deep down I imagine a future where I'm happy regardless of my body and what society has to say about it.
