Idk There's Something Really Sweet To Me About Fix-it Writers. Like, Me And You- Maybe We Couldnt Make

📸family fun!

Girl when I tell you my life flashed before my eyes

I JUST HAD TO DRAW THIS

Ignore me, I’m organising my stuff like a magpie with their collection of trinkets

Tim seems like the type to have a Snapchat story dedicated to his crashouts

He frequently posts videos of himself yelling about the idiots he encounters in his daily life, and people live for it.

Tim, in his car: I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF BAD DRIVERS! IF YOU WANT TO DRIVE LIKE A PRE-SCHOOLER, THEN PULL UP IN THE LITTLE TYKES COZY COUPE, MOTHERFUCKER. I AM TWO SECONDS AWAY FROM REAR-ENDING YOU! AT LEAST THEN YOU MIGHT BE ABLE TO GO THE FUCKING SPEED LIMIT

Tim, barely visible and whisper-shouting in a dark closet: If I have to deal with Lex Motherfucking Luthor one more time I might just have to commit a felony about it. Because what do you mean you "aren't familiar" with our DEI policy outline???? We've been doing business for years????? We've had this EXACT CONVERSATION, like, TEN TIMES--

Tim, not even bothering to find an empty room: I should have stayed an only child.

Dick’s voice offscreen: Huh?

Tim, deadpan: The only good outcome of having siblings is that if they threaten to kill me, I might actually get a fucking break —— assuming they can grow a spine long enough to actually make good on their threats, that is.

Dick, in the background: C’mon, Tim you guys just quit fighting— Damian, stop- DAMIAN

Damian, now in frame, making a spirited attempt to free himself from the upside-down hold he has been wrangled into by attacking Dick’s ankles: I only wish to give him what he wants, Richard!

Dick: No, Dami, what did we say about- STOP BITING ME

Tim, staring deadpan at the camera while the others fight behind him: I have never envied Jason Todd more in my life

”Wait.” The faintest sound darting out from beneath the door. So so quiet, even though there is nothing else to make noise. Even though there is nothing else to hear it.

“Wait, please.” You turn, key already half in your hands pocket, caught stiff from the impossibility of it. It’s barely louder than a murmur. If your hearing hadn’t twitched just the slightest, if you hadn’t stopped just to double check, you’d be gone. The universe would be shut, dust sheets covering the planets and all the windows and stars locked. Lights off.

“Please?” It’s so unsure. So fragile. The silence threatens to break the noise instead of the other way round. Are they unwilling or unable to raise their volume, to risk being heard, to take up space, to actually stand up and decide they want to exist? What horrors do they think being known will bring?

“Please. I don’t want to be left behind.”

You open the door, and the universe flickers on.

You are Death. The last living thing has died. You've put the chairs on the tables, turned out the lights, and locked the universe behind you. Something whispers from behind the door.

Bruce truly hates magic with every pump and beat of his heart.

What kinda curse is Slang, anyway?

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Bro really thought he ate with that.” Bruce physically feels a full body shiver, charged with nausea and cringe. “This is level 10 cringe. Can’t have shit in Gotham.”

Dick is his earth bound angel, but he laughs like a demon at him, holding onto Jason for support, pledging his eternal loyalty to Zatana and her pettiness.

—

“Hey, old bat, hook me up with an adrenaline shot.”

What he wants to say is Jay, do not try and fight with 6 bullets in your stomach.

What comes out instead, through Bruce’s grit teeth and intense, fierce glaring, “Not you trying to go back to your corpse era. See how I only took 2 shots? Very demure. Very mindful.”

Jason passes out from blood loss, but mostly laughter.

—

“Chat, is this real?”

Stephanie barely bites back a full belly cackle. “I think he just asked us if we copied.”

“I wish I was Jason, 15.”

—

“This is not a slay environment. Killing is flop behavior.” He keeps his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands. Trying to convince Damian not to stab someone doesn’t seem to work.

Damian gives him a pat like he’s a pitiful cat. “I’ll only stab the non lethal areas.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

why do ppl do drugs when you can just experience the absolute high of meeting someone who isn’t just unhinged about your fandom but is also feral about your otps

You know all those humans are space orcs posts about how we anthropomorphise inanimate objects? Next time a computer asks me to confirm I’m human, I’m telling it about Fang, the small paper shredder at a neighbours house I met while helping her with organising and ended up feeding him different things over the course of a while bc there was that much to get rid of and if he ate too fast he overheated and had to be given time to calm down.

I cannot stress enough, he was not my paper shredder. He was the size of a waste paper bin under a desk, really simple. He was not named Fang by his owner. I have never not referred to him as Fang.

I spent a couple hours with Fang one day in the summer. It’s been years, I still think about Fang fairly regularly and consider getting a paper shredder like one might consider getting a dog. The worst part is everytime I get to that point in the line of thought, I think it wouldn’t be the same because it’s not Fang.

So I get emotionally invested in things quick.