Oh that two year gap on my resume was when I was the architect of my own hell
reblog this to be an annoying faggot at ur followers
The girls and the gays đź’š
they’re having a slumber party and painting each other’s nails
✧ They talk about the person in past tense… then correct themselves. Then stop talking entirely.
✧ They touch things that belonged to the person like they’re fragile, sacred, about to disappear.
✧ They hoard the last voicemail, last message, last anything. Play it. Don’t play it. Just knowing it exists hurts enough.
✧ They leave something untouched, an empty seat, a half-packed bag, a coffee order that isn’t theirs.
✧ They get irrationally angry when someone else seems to be “moving on.” As if forgetting is betrayal.
✧ They don’t let themselves cry all at once. It comes in pieces. Like they’re afraid too much grief will drown them.
âś§ They over-apologize. For being quiet. For being distant. For not being okay.
âś§ They become hyper-aware of time, dates, anniversaries, time zones, the exact moment everything ended.
âś§ They get superstitious. Ritualistic. As if doing things "right" might reverse something.
✧ They smile when they talk about the person. But it’s brittle. And it never quite touches their eyes.
looking at the moon and experiencing a very deep yearning
Sex is when you push your finger into someones open wound and they make a pathetic little moan in response
I need someone to write a superbat fic inspired by the song surprise party by Hoodie Allen. It is a great need, and i can't write Bruce or Clark for the life of me.
a collection of one-shots of our lovely support classes. There's going to be some fluff, some angst, a bit of spice, and a good time.
Please feel free to DM me if you have any requests.Â
what I won't be doing:
- gore outside of the standard violence for this fandom
- non-con elements
- for the time being I wont be doing any heavy smut
that's pretty much all.
Have a good one! <3
Mood
mood