#heheehhe

[reginald-fillibus]

[r473n]

I gotta say that the funniest thing about transitioning is becoming more and more comfortable in my femininity.

I went from being a tomboy allergic to anything pink or sparkly or fem or soft, to sitting here in my flowery pjs and Winny the Pooh robe. I have peach fuzz on my face and a kitty ears headset... I'm winning at life!

[tohot4u]

Sound

[dowlep]

It's 1am.. but hey! Artfight amrite?

[indigostuck4]

oooh are you thinking about your boyfrined nerd oooh you should totally go confess to him right now nerd oooh cmon ner

god fucking dammit

[venuseology]

anybody stuck on the fact that Colin told Penelope that he traveled to seventeen cities but told his siblings that he couldn’t remember how many he went to / refused to talk about his travels ………….. sigh

Not only that but also the fact that he was probably so lonely the entire time. Just completely, utterly lonesome. Writing letters to his siblings who complain about his writing style, not receiving any responses from Penelope, he was detached from his taste of interesting, riveting correspondence that he had during his last travels w Penelope and the hunger that seeped from that absence left him starving for it unknowingly.

Even when in the arms of beautiful ladies he didn’t know, he was utterly, completely, alone and unheard and unseen and left chasing for some feeling that he could not grasp or reach. His own insecurities flooded up inside him and left him wondering for something unknown. Looking for the right personality, the right purpose for him to be seen and taken seriously not only by society but also his own family. He doesn’t enjoy adhering to the rules and constructs set up by society but the world does not accept him as he is so he conforms and twists himself up into this fabrication of a person and it works.

Or at the very least, he perceives that it works because Anthony begins to start respecting him and taking him out for celebratory drinks and the ladies seem to swoon at his every word and he isn’t bothering his family about the “unimportant” details of his travels (meaning that he doesn’t speak of his travels to anyone, besides penelope, penelope who encouraged his interests and behaviors and quirks, penelope who embraced him with smiles as bright as early greek mornings that rise with her wit, her beauty, her tenacity.)

His attempt to blend in with the norm has worked, yet he feels oh so alone and empty and unsatisfied. He has been suffering for eons trying to fit in and once he finally reached this goal it’s almost as if… he’s been drained of meaning. It’s almost as if he’s uncomfortable pretending to be this man that society tells him that he must be, as if he doesn’t want to be this man, but instead, wants to simply be, colin.

[ggomos-maribat]

Tim Drake didn't particularly like the occult.

But Constantine said the two were their best bet against the demon uprising. The magic-user, howeover, refused to contact them himself, claiming that it was a bad idea to involve them, that they were better off dealing with the problem on their own than . . . outsourcing. Unfortunately, Tim (and the rest of the Batfamily really) was stubborn. If they had potential allies to help them, wouldn't it be worth to take the risk?

This mission to contact those people then dragged him to a downtown bar to talk to famous designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who he was ninety-five percent sure was one of the two Constantine was talking about.

Tim told himself that perhaps a little bit of sweet-talking would do. His hand inched closer to hers on the tabletop, but she immediately pulled away. "This night has been fun, Monsieur Drake." She smiled sweetly. "But I don't think my husband will appreciate me staying out late."

She showed him a glowing band on her finger, which Tim completely missed when they met. He, too, pulled away, cheeks turning pink. "Uhh, yeah, sorry 'bout that. Don't let me keep you."

Although Marinette had slipped out, he still had a mission to do.

He decided to follow her.

He knew of her potential danger, signified by the fact that she was walking on a dark, deserted, Gotham street by herself. He held his breath when she stopped right below a flickering lamppost.

She turned around, plump red lips stretching into a sinister smile. "That's quite sneaky of you, Monsieur Drake. Why don't you be direct with what you want, hm?"

And he took a step out of the shadows, dropping his act. "We need your help."

"Who told you about me?"

". . . John Constantine."

Her nose wrinkled. "That soul-whore? Figures."

Tim definitely didn't show it, but the way she stood, her mere presence was unnerving like a beast waiting to pounce. But at the same time, she was so unfairly beautiful even in the darkness.

Marinette smoothed down her hair. "What makes you think we're willing to help?"

Tim's eyebrows raised. "'We'?"

A sudden chill arrived with the wind, summoning goosebumps all over his skin. The lamp switched off in a blink, and when it turned on again, a shadow had appeared beside Marinette, which morphed into a human. Or at least he thought it was a human.

"Yes, 'we'," a new voice said. "She and her husband."

Fuck. The man was dressed in elegant clothes, a perfect match with his wife. His hair was slicked back but with strands softly falling on top of his ethereal eyes. Tim swore those were fangs under his pale lips, sharp like the gaze he was shooting at him. Both his deep blue eyes and Marinette's seemed to shine under the moonlight.

Tim was officially scared. He never did like the occult, but goddamn, the occult was causing his bi-panic.

[analoghorrorisyummy]

immediately made this after the last thing I made. It’s only good because I slightly used the image as a trace. Yeah, I changed it but it’s basically the same. KNJBIEUFWUBIFEAIUBFEANIUEFAINUAFEINUEFA. ^^

Og image: