#patrisfilia

[circusmade]

   ❛  ‘i’ll move the batcave’ i said. ‘it’ll be symbolic’ i said. next time i choose symbolism over conveniency remind me not to. ❜

@patrisfilia

[viictims-a-blog]

         ❛ w e l l , it’s AWFULLY rude to judge a book by its cover . . . or a man by his makeup ❜

@patrisfilia

[battlecried]

          “Do you think if I’m quick enough with these, I can get back home in time for Cutthroat Kitchen?” Her eyebrows furrow as she grabs her necklace, bringing it closer to her lips. She can’t be loud, not when they’re on the middle of a mission. “I’m serious,” Dinah adds before Oracle even says a word, knowing it’s coming. And waiting for her answer, she peeks over the corner she’s been hiding in and sighs, “--- they’re not going to come out, I might as well just bust in and kick some ass. How bad can it be? They’re wannabe mafia, not Ra’s Al Ghul’s squad of ninjas.” // @patrisfilia

[circusmade]

i want the k.

Send me ‘I want the K’ and I’ll generate a number7. romantic kiss

   he’s never been the type to seek solitude as often as he does now, stripping the cowl from his face and letting it fall against the black of his cape. it feels too heavy on his shoulders, a crushing weight he feels like he’s suffocating under. sitting down on the steps he takes a deep breath, trying to find his own sense of peace. face buries in his hands, fingers gripping a mass of dark locks that fall just above his brow. and this was exactly why he never wanted to be batman, there was always the threat of that darkness swallowing him whole. 

    it’s the feeling of babs’ arms around him that finally silence the collage of ‘feeling too much’ and ‘not good enough’. ❛  this is almost routine now isn’t it? catching me when i fall. ❜ and in the circus that’s the acrobat’s job isn’t it? the irony is hardly lost on him. right now no one can see him break – he’s batman, the person they’re relying on to take the lead now that bruce is gone. but babs has always been a safe place for him, two warm hands that pull him out from the abyss that’s sucking him in. she’s hurting too and it’s the things they haven’t talked about that sound the loudest. an engagement cut off while they took the time to take care of everyone else or musings of ‘what if’ that linger between them but most of all? they don’t talk about how much he still loves her. he’s never stopped.

     ❛  do you ever wonder where we’d be if we just let ourselves be happy ? ❜

   he’s wearing his dead mentor’s symbol but he has to remind himself he’s not bruce. he’s seen bruce push away countless chances at happiness but is that really what he wants? what he wants is the redhead who’s freckles he used to count when they went on patrol, who still says phrases like ‘oracle out’ and mastered the art of how to actually use the chopsticks they hand out with chinese take out. and she’s sitting right next to him, eyes locked on to his and faces a breath apart. time to take that leap of faith. leaning closer, he closes the gap between them with a kiss that’s far more tender than their last on the docks. because unlike before, this one isn’t goodbye.