shifting moodboard tag game
thank you for the tag, @jtsblockreload : " make a moodboard in that form with the pictures you think suits it best. add little descriptions or fun facts to each of them " in my gotham academy reality.
clothes : faux fur and faux leather for eternity.
color : the ' dark brown ' that matches the cityscape of gotham.
eyes : that corny ' my eyes change colors in the light ' thing unfortunately applies to me. they're hazel turn green.
flower : i prefer an arrangement of different flowers compared to just one. i adore all the pretty colors.
reality self : i do not use face claims but hailee has been the one i use for edits for a long time.
animal : is a ' gargoyle ' technically an animal? i don't know but it perfectly represents a batman-less gotham city.
hairstyle : ' straight ' but always a little messy because jason can't help but run his fuckass fingers through it.
place : ' gotham city ' if you aren't in gotham then where are you at??
quote aesthetic : ' angel ' happens to be why most infamous nickname. i got these nails done for my nineteenth birthday!
tagging @emitem1, @phiphifetacheese, @rrezshifts, and anyone else who would like to join.
I’M EDITING AND JUST REALIZED I can post the text I place in my edits on here instead of making an edit for the sole purpose of writing. So here’s a small little drabble about my college reality!! A lot of it is added on because I did NOT have the time and space in the edit when originally writing it lol. Bold is the OG text!!
We’re leaving this stupid fucking pizza place. The one I sat and stared at Tommy in like a fool while it felt like my heart would beat out of my chest. Both from the anxiety of being caught and the thoughts running through my head as I studied him. I was realizing things I didn’t want to. Like how the hidden lust behind my faux anger wasn’t the only thing that had formed since that party a couple weeks ago.
We’ve made it out of the restaurant, and the cool air of New York City’s dusk hits me as I step foot on the sidewalk. Our friends are congregating outside the door, deciding where to go next. And Tommy looks me in the eye after saying nothing to me all night, french on his tongue as he mutters, “Bonsoir, Théo,” with a soft smile aimed directly at me.
The softness almost broke down all my walls. They always seem to get close to rupture when he acts soft with me instead of giving me his usual lewd teasing and flirting. And in response, I build those walls back up, 10x stronger. Refusing the intamacy of sharing a language with him, all I say is, “Hi, Tommy,” back, my tone flat and unwelcoming as I avoid his eyes.
None of the others had heard him, though. They weren’t paying attention to us. I could have given in to my base desires, be soft back, stop fighting the feelings I knew were there. Because god knows I wanted nothing more than to whisper back, “Bonsoir, Thomas,” and give it all away.
CHAT . . . I’M BORED AS SHIT So this is being continued because why the hell not. I like to write, I love Tommy Shepherd, and have nothing better to do. Enjoy what’s basically a fic I guess lmaoo
Tommy didn't hear any of that softness from me though. He heard indifference. So his soft smile drops. He turns away from me and he listens to our friends conversation instead, an attempt to ignore the sting of rejection. But I turn my focus back to him when I feel that his focus has left me. And I just stare at him some more. Until the shame about what I'm feeling and doing creeps in.
Mind you, I'm not ashamed of liking him. I've realized a while back that he's a great fucking guy. And, all around, there's nothing wrong with liking him. But there's everything wrong with what I'm doing to mask it. The fact I am masking it. And the yearning I'm risking despite it all. It just feels cruel to him for having to put up with my rude behavior. And cruel to me for keeping myself from something I want. But it's easier to keep up this ruse then risk any sort of uncomfortable conversation I risk by letting free too much of the adoration I hold for him.
"…Theo?" is all I hear and is what kicks me out of my thoughts. I look from the concrete of the sidewalk, to my friends who are now all looking at me. Including Tommy, the quick eye contact I made with him as my eyes swiped across all their faces was enough to send my heart into a fit after the mental spiral I was in moments prior.
My brows are furrowed, "Sorry, what?"
Eli has always been good at not letting my awkward moments hold too long of a focus. So he immediately answers my request for clarification, not letting silence settle for too long. "We're thinking of stopping by a party. What do you think? You down?"
My mouth opens to speak, but I stop myself. I was going to say I was down, because I always love parties. But now I'm stuck on deciding if alcohol and loud music is the very thing I need at this moment in time or the last thing I need. Sometimes it's hard for me to say no though, especially when the voice in my head telling me to say it is sooooo quiet. So I just nod and, "Yeah, I'm down," is my response.
I smile weakly after I answer, prompting Eli to give me a look asking me if I'm sure. And I just nod, attempting a more sincere smile. He recognizes my answer with his own smile, then turns to his phone for directions to the party. Before we can start walking I attempt to sneak a glance at Tommy, but he's already looking at me. There's something almost sad in his eyes as he does, but it vanishes as his lips turn up into that same soft smile. And GOD I just can't take it anymore! My head snaps away from him and my vision is back on the concrete below our feet.
. . .
When we get to the party, I separate from my friends and immediately try to find the alcohol. For this one night, I drink any drink I can, not caring for the very present taste of the hard liquor. I want to stop hyperfocusing on Tommy. That's my goal. I want to find a group of people to talk to, have them speak to me about something and have my drunk mind focus entirely on that. Or I want to get so drunk that I can't hear my thoughts over the booming music.
And I get to do that. At first at least. I get to dance with not one thought of the stupid man and his stupid blonde hair and stupidly pretty green eyes. And! I find new people to talk to. But it didn't seem to matter what conversation they were having. Because Tommy walked past for a split second. And I was groaning openly out of despair and drunk longing. The group were quick to become curious, and I was more than welcome to talk way too freely about it all.
I did leave the group eventually, though. Despite my state, I had some self restraint and decided I needed that loud music and dancing to rid my head of him again. My thoughts of him have never been this loud before this night. And as I walk to the dance floor I can't figure out if the alcohol is helping or making it worse. But it doesn't matter because I'm dancing and just ignoring all of it, focusing on the beats of the music.
I don't know how long l've been dancing for. I lost track of time. I couldn't even tell you how many songs played or which ones. But as I’m moving I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, no warning… as far as I remember. And when I turn to look at who's holding me, it's Tommy. I roll my eyes at the sight. The first time in a while I didn't have to force myself to do so when it stopped happening naturally with him. But this time it's only because he's here in front of me, when I've been trying to stop thinking about him, so of course he'd show up.
"Hey," he starts. I can see some level of concern in his eyes. And whether or not I managed to control myself from rolling my eyes again at the sight, I can't say. His hand doesn't drop my wrist though. If anything it tightens a bit, as if he's scared I'll lose my balance and drop. "We're leaving now, 'kay?"
A part of me wanted to stay, but I just nod my understanding at him instead. Because I'm scared if I open my mouth, I'll say something I might regret. My mind is racing. Jumping from every thought, every analysis, every observation. If I opened my mouth, one of those might slip out. And he just nods back at me, that stupid fucking soft smile back on his lips, and then starts to slowly lead me to the door.
Before we can make it out of the house where our friends are waiting he asks me, "How much did you have to drink?" It's not a judgmental question, I can tell. It's a curious one. He wants to know how they’re going to have to take care of me. The caring of it all makes me want to pull my wrist from his grasp. Escape this closeness.
But I don't budge. And instead I answer, "A good bit, sorry.” My voice isn’t small or weak, and I’m aware enough of the fact I need to speak loudly as we’re still in the house. But I am apologetic. I didn’t think of the fact I’d need to be taken care of with the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, and now I’m starting to feel the guilt creep in.
His hand gently squeezes my wrist, “No, don’t be. You were just having fun. I-” his words stop suddenly in their tracks, and then he course corrects, “We just want to know what to expect. Make sure you’re safe.” And oh my god when will he ever stop flashing that goddamn smile, it’s driving me crazy. Tommy just hopes that reassuring smile of his is cutting any tension, not knowing it’s adding so much more.
As soon as we’re past the door, his hand moves from my wrist to grasp at my hand so he can help me down the stairs of the brownstone. His hand feels so warm in mine that my fingers instinctively curl into his touch. But as soon as I make it off the final step, his hand lets go of mine and I practically mourn the loss.
“Jesus, how much did you have to drink?” Billy pipes up. Tommy throws a glare towards his brother. It’s meant to be a warning. But after nineteen years of growing up together Tommy’s warnings mean absolutely nothing to Billy and he just gives him an almost angrily confused ‘What??’ look back.
Kate claps her hands together, “Okay!” She then walks up to me and grabs me by the shoulders directing my feet to a place on the sidewalk. “You’re gonna try and walk in a straight line.” I look at her unimpressed, but it doesn’t phase her. “The less straight the line, the more people are going to hold you up as we walk home.”
I mutter, “This is stupid,” as I begin to walk anyway.
But what my friends see is a goddamn wreck. Not to say that I think I’m killing it. They’re all holding back laughs Teddy mutters, “Is it?” under his breath and suddenly holding back laughs is a little more hard for them. I stop in my tracks and hide my face in my hands.
Tommy is smiling in amusement at me, enjoying his time finding me cute, when Kate snaps her fingers and points at him, “You got this?”
His head whips over to her, brows pinched together, “What?”
The smile on her face is mischievous. But I’m too distracted by Billy and Teddy now, the two still giggling under their breath. A middle finger now thrown in their direction. “You’ve got him, right? You can help Theo as we walk home?”
Tommy is a stammering mess, “I- uh, I mean… I guess so?” His eyes are wandering to me, blissfully unaware of this conversation.
“Good!” she says with one final clap, “Let’s go.”
That’s the only thing I heard from Kate from the past minute, before they all started walking. I follow after them as Tommy trailed after me, watching me closely. He was hesitant to touch me at first, hoping I could somehow make it to my dorm without him. But then I’m tripping over nothing but my feet after only making it a few paces from where we started. So his arm wraps around my waist, his hand clutching my side. My posture straightens at the feeling, and my heartbeat couldn’t be anymore rapid.
“Sorry,” he mumbles close to my ear, “Just trying to help.”
I’m hyper aware of the feeling of his hand on my waist. It almost tickles, or is just buzzing. And I want to protest, tell him I’ll be fine. That I can make it home on my own. Or that we can just link arms and it’ll be just as effective. But then the feeling of his hand and arm on me becomes less shocking, and starts feeling more comforting. And I tell myself ‘Maybe it’s not too bad?’
We make it back to our dorms, and the whole way there I was only thinking of Tommy’s fingers and what they were doing, or how they felt. They were mostly still, as he was too scared to fidgit, like his fingers usually do, possibly making me uncomfortable. But every now and then his fingers would press into my side a little tighter like he was reestablishing his grip. Though he had never lost it.
While walking through the lobby his arm was still around my waist. And I didn’t mind it. But then I felt his thumb start to caress my side and instinctively I pulled away from any and all of his touch quite harshly. His arm was quick to fall back at his side. “Sorry,” he starts, “I wasn’t-”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt any explanation. I was scared to hear it. “I think I’ll be, uh I’ll be good from here on.” My nerves are on full display. And our friends are looking at us now, confused or concerned, I’m not sure. But they see my nerves.
Eli looks from Tommy to me, then from me to Tommy, and he tries to help, “Hey, Tommy, are you staying a bit before heading back to your brownstone again?”
Tommy had to practically force his eyes off of me. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he lightly licks his lips, he looks almost troubled. Then he makes eyes contact with Eli, “Yeah, I was hoping I could rest my legs before the walk home.”
Eli just nods and we all get into the elevator. Once in our suite I’m immediately put into bed by my friends. But I’m not tired, So I lay in my bed as I hear the faint chatter of what I assume was Tommy and Eli chatting outside of our room so not to disturb me. I’ll find out later from Tommy himself that Eli was getting the details of what happened that night from Tommy, and this asking him how he was feeling, and questioning him about how he was feeling about me. After several minutes, Eli will come back into our room alone. And I’ll fall asleep after 30 minutes of watching something on my phone.
In the morning, some crazy part of me would swear I could still feel the warmth of Tommy’s hand in mine. And even the buzzing feeling of his arm around my waist. Or the pressure of his fingers readjusting there too. I’m almost thankful I’d be too hungover for swim practice. Because an even crazier part of me will be unreasonably worried that the water will wash those sensations off of me.
&. who is he? — a short biography on the one and only jason todd and his part in my shifting journey.
behind the hood ⋮ all things jason
jason peter todd is widely recognized for being the red hood in the batman comics — ironically he is not the red hood in any of my realities. instead he spends his days following me around and his nights using me as a pillow.
he was born august sixteenth with varying years around the multiverse ( hint : it's always the same as mine ). his home is gotham city, new jersey and even when he's not from there he magically carries on that thick gothamite accent. now for his stats like maxpreps : 6'5 & 241 lbs.
his face closely resembles tom welling as clark kent in smallville. but i unfortunately will never be revealing his actual face, sorry but that boy is mine.
say your stupid line ⋮ jason's cliches
forty-four. every way he bends the same number remains; 44. every sport he plays ( basketball, hockey, football, racing, etc. ), he will do with the number embroidered on his back. it just so happens to be his favorite number while mine is simply four. he's extra.
literacy somehow? he texts like a buffoon despite his biggest hobby being reading. he adores old classics and jane austen. he constantly rages about how ya books are being incorrectly marketed as well as how idiotic censorship is. his favorite way to consume is in the dark armchair with my pink cat blanket in his lap.
a little whimsy. he is the type to get distracted by a pretty butterfly mid conversation. i will not be elaborating because we are both like this. and we have both wandered away together because of one while in conversation with our friends.
physical features. green eyes with sparks of brown. the scar through his right brow. his sharp canine teeth. the freckles on his shoulders. the patch of white hair in his otherwise black hair.
mirrored ⋮ jason's variants
oh, there he is! shayne topp — smosh, rosa diaz — brooklyn nine-nine, gomez addams — the addams family, nathan scott — one tree hill.
setting the scene ⋮ top realities with jason
better reality. childhood friends to high school sweethearts to basically married. duke's no. 44. the suspected number one draft pick in the 2026 nba draft. all the while his gf is living her life online and meeting every celebrity on the planet.
gotham university reality. rivals and classmates to lovers. the vice president of pike. someone said he has something going on with some girl from his business class, but who knows if that's even the truth.
irl streamer reality. childhood friends to lovers. famous streamer layla miles and her one and only cameraman, jason todd. secret relationship even though the entire internet is trying to pull strings until they admit it.
modern gotham reality. childhood friends to lovers. jason ' rosso ' todd is a popular boxer. he has not been seen without layla falcone since his arrival in gotham's underbelly as a rookie fighter.
sticky notes inspired by @phiphifetacheese's leo post <3
LORELAI HENDERSON moves through the world like a quiet storm — steady, bright, and stronger than she ever admits. She’s all soft edges wrapped around a spine of steel, brave in the ways that matter: the small moments, the choices no one sees. There’s a spark in her, gentle but unyielding, the kind that keeps others warm even when she’s the one afraid. She listens deeply, loves fiercely, and carries the weight of Hawkins like a secret stitched into her bones.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤYou'll remember me, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlike a melody Yeah, I'll hauntㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ the world inside you
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
DUSTIN HENDERSON is a burst of light in a town full of shadows — curious, clever, endlessly hopeful. His mind never stops moving, sparks jumping like fireflies, turning fear into strategy and chaos into possibility. He loves with his whole chest, loud and unfiltered, and believes in people long before they believe in themselves. There’s bravery in him that doesn’t roar—it radiates—a warmth that reminds everyone around him that even in the darkest places, wonder still lives.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤOh, I am just a kidㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI never use my brainㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ I only use my heart
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
LORELAI and DUSTIN are two halves of the same wild spark — her steady hands, his restless mind. She guards him like a shield; he pulls her toward wonder she forgot she needed. They bicker, laugh, collide, but always circle back, orbiting each other like stubborn stars. In a world full of monsters, they are each other’s safest place.
&. a shiftblr prompt list — we have reached this year's point of reflection. the time of year to look around and bask in everything you are grateful for. join me in sharing thanks!
prompt list ⋮ these are just some ideas for posts, not an event. you can take as many you want or none at all. just have fun!
side note ⋮ fuck christopher columbus!!!! he's a stupid fucking idiot and we do not celebrate anything associated with him in this house.
the dinner bell — tell us all about your family dinners. who makes the food? is it a group project or a bothering grandma type of experience? how often do you alcove together?
thinking and thanking — introduce us to people you are most thankful for this year. what are their little lovable quirks? do you two have variants?
milk cart full of albums — show us a list of your favorite songs and albums for this time of year. what are the stories behind your choices? are they tied into someone else?
the quintessential holiday — go through every step of your holiday celebration. from the moment you wake up to the pajamas you wear to bed.
media production — movie night marathon! movie nights bring people together . . . or do they? do you have a friend that is obsessed with film and has to let everyone know? are you that friend?
making a list and checking it twice — santa is coming, what do you hope he's bringing you? ( could just be a list of things you want and not tied in with a religious holiday. )
sparkling bubbly and bright fireworks — the start of the new year is also a new era. make a list of everything you want to accomplish. when do you plan to finish the list? who do you want to do the tasks with?
girls that looks like they stepped out of a faded scrapbook - delicate makeup, frilly silhouettes, snoopy plushes and glitter eyeshadow - but everything feels a little wrong in a beautiful way. ballet flats with flowers, doodles on tights, art school girl sadness, and pastries too pretty to eat. glitter spilled on a diary page-sweet, emotional, slightly messy, but unforgettable.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
⠀⠀⠀ ˚ ﹒ ૮ ⠀⠀ ⠀you know what?ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnot even god can stop meㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi'll like you
THAÏSA LOU HERMÈS CASTILLO 𑜷 As she starts to open herself up to the two boys vying for her attention, allowing them to play in her heart, her aesthetic shifts. LIGHTENING UP as the bassist and guitarist begin to pull her closer. Black lace, turns white. Grunge turns to elegance. Dark midnights turn into foggy and damp dawns. It happened so fast, her DESIRE TO GLOW instead of fade. But it isn’t unwelcome or out of character, because she too has changed.
&. luvletters event — day six : meet cutes. how i met jason in my gotham assistant reality.
jason never thought he'd need an assistant. his job wasn't too hard — he only spent all day at the office and barely ate. his personal bodyguard, simon, could see his boss basically falling apart so he took matters into his own hands by hiring layla.
on her first day she brought bagels. homemade bagels. jason ate three of them before asking who she was. finding out she was his assistant was confusing but simon explained. jason gave simon a bet that the girl would be gone within two weeks.
but now here we are two years later . . . with layla at jason's side every single day. and newspaper articles speculating if there is more behind the put together appearance of the duo.
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