A small redX sketch from 2012 I found in one of my purse sketchbooks that I’d forgotten about but still like.

Ignore every instinct to flee. Remember: you are a monster too
—Destiny; fieldplate gauntlets description (via copperwindchime)


                                                          something’s wrong
                                                           ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ
                                                          things that haven’t
                                                             happened yet 

This world can only give me reminders of what I don’t have, can never have, didn’t have for long enough.
—Dennis Lehane Shutter Island (via drcraneisssnthererightnow)

Reblog Karma vs. Pay it Forward

Reblog Karma (which will be called RK) isn’t a thing that works. It singles out people who don’t feel like sending memes and what not and like it or not, that is an individual choice on behalf of each roleplayer. So, instead of RK which does nothing but cause resentment and confusion, I am suggesting the simple alternative of Pay It Forward. There is no time limit on paying it forward, nor is there any obligation besides the fact that it’s a nice thing do to. If a meme doesn’t work for your character in regards to another, you aren’t obligated to send them it. Not now, not ever. 
Some memes do not work for certain situations, for certain blogs, for certain writers. Memes are not universal, and not everyone is interested all the time. But part of pay it forward is this: so you reblog a meme and don’t send an ask for it to the person you reblogged it from. Okay, you had your reasons and you don’t need to defend them. But next time they reblog one that you can respond to comfortably, IC or OOC, do it. Because maybe someone will do the same for you.
And if we all took some time to pay it forward and send a mun a meme or say hello or initiate a conversation, then no one would be left feeling ignored or used simply for their memes to be reblogged. Roleplay is an interactive game, and it’s very hard to play when people won’t interact with you. It doesn’t matter how many followers you have - it’s the ones who talk to you, send you things, and to whom you can do the same that make the experience fun.
So maybe you don’t send a meme everytime. Maybe you don’t vote in someones poll or help them with something they’ve asked about on the dash. But maybe once in a while, you could. We all could. Help make the experience positive for everyone. A little goes a long way. A hello, a kind anon, liking someones graphic, replying to an open, or even just sending a meme instead of only reblogging them.


call me2


Roy looked at Jason like he meant the world, like the days were lacking if he wasn’t a part of them. It was a heady feeling that swelled in his chest with every breath, that existed as a part of him and left him full and warm and comforted.
And though he often wondered if these feelings were reciprocated in their full extent, he found that he didn’t really care, of course he hoped beyond hope that Jason loved him in the same capacity. But he knew that he would love the younger boy regardless, that his feelings would not be tainted if they were one-sided. They were pure, and far more so than anything else he’d ever felt or said or done.
He turned his head, it lolled against his shoulder in that sleep drunken way that was mandatory of predawn morning hours. And his lips curved at their ends at the sight before him.
A certain vigilante was curled warm and pliant against him, snuffling in his sleep and looking far more vulnerable than he’d ever allow himself to appear in waking. And Roy was filled with that cocktail of both pride and affection again because Jason trusted him with this.



look i wanna be straight up w/ you guys if you ever wanna just come to my askbox and headcanon-jam or talk about characters or something idk like you should just do it we dont already have to be friends or anything


Lemony Snicket, “Shouldn’t You Be in School?”


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cacklingchangeling replied to your post:okay yeah all’s well that ends well and all but…

[an EMBARASSING photo of Robin from that Christmas party]



It tingled and burned on chapping lips, and inhaled like flame and mystery, a breath of rebellion that disappeared as nothing but smoke in the air. Ash fell as greyscale flakes upon worn leather with a flick of calloused fingers. This was how every meeting started, with a cigarette between pursed lips, one pair and then another as the stick was passed, until it wad crushed beneath heavy duty boot treads.
With smoke husky voices they exchanged very little, yet they shared a warmth so far beyond what they felt alone. And it was almost easy to forget the million different ways that this - and they - could be blown wide apart.
They both acknowledged that - like most things  - this would inevitably end. That inevitability was like a physical being, a beast that howled in the back of their minds, that prowled the fringe of every thought when they were together, and devoured them both when they were alone. It watched and waited and they could feel it preying on them, yet they would never, could never tempt fate by addressing it.
Still they came together, in a brutal and heady collision that left them both fulfilled and longing in its wake.
The things they hated about themselves, they loved about each other, and it was a devastating realisation to come to.
They kept on participating in this same song and dance, because it made them feel better, for as long as it lasted and for every time they came back to it, it was comforting to feel for a while that somebody cared.
For the thief who’d never entertained the thought of finding such affection, and believed too strongly that he was undeserving, and the archer who’d never tried hard enough to form a connection, who’d never realised how much he’d been missing, they found that there were few things more important than this.
There were few things more forbidden.