at least the colouring is nice

daily life of a digital artist:

  • is that a not coloured spot or a stain on my monitor
  • I didn’t save for at least 2 hours god is real
  • my playlist ended 1,5 h ago I’ve been drawing in silence this whole time
  • ‘ “asdf11.png” already exists. Do you want to overwrite? ‘
  • I resized this very part of a picture but now it looks too small so let’s ctrl+z ohMYGOD IT’S SO B I G
  • this idea seemed cooler yesterday at 3 am
  • I want to pee but right now I’m doing so well and if I go I will leavE THE ZONE
  • opacity 67% or 68% I can’t decide
  • well this pic looks nice //*flips it horizontally*// I regret having eyes
  • where the fuck is my pen
If I’m a Saint, Then You’re Heaven

Summary: Phil is less than excited to start his Sex in the Bible course, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he meets a gorgeous angel dressed in all pink by the name of Dan.
Word Count: 11,068
Warnings: Lots of religious talk, homophobia, physical fight, smut
A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this because I was tired of people writing a religious fic where Phil continuously tries to get Dan to sin. So this came out, where they both respect each other despite their religious differences (With a dash of sex at the end). If you’re uncomfortable reading smut then no worries! It’s easy to tell when they’re going to get it on and it ends at the ’-’ and is very close to the end (: Lastly, special thanks to @insanityplaysfics for betaing this for me and giving me this entire idea! Also thank you @phandommother for helping me out with the idea as well and listening to me rant about it :’)
Title Creds: Cement - Citizen
Read it on AO3


Phil didn’t know why he decided to take the class. None of his friends were taking it and it honestly seemed like a lot of shit that Phil didn’t particularly care about, shit that didn’t really help him with his future career in any way. It seemed like a class that had a lot of reading, reading that Phil would probably never do, and let’s be honest, he probably only took the class because it had the word ‘sex’ in the title.

He walked into his Sex in the Bible class five minutes late on his first day.

The teacher didn’t bat an eye. Heads didn’t turn to look at him. Phil just sauntered in and stood at the back of the lecture room with his backpack slung over one shoulder while he scanned the room for a seat. Sometimes he forgot just how uncaring everyone was in university. He could just walk in ten to twenty minutes late and nobody would give a shit. Especially not in a class where there were over one hundred students.

(He didn’t understand why there were so many students in Sex in the Bible. They probably also just took the class because of the word ‘sex’).

Keep reading

rock dog is a cute movie and it is superior to Sing or most illumination flicks and we laughed more than we did at Sing. it doesn’t have terrible designs, good quips, visual gags, some nice colour keys, and is over all a very passable movie you watch or put on for your kids without insulting their intelligence. my only criticism is the villains motives weren’t thought out very well and i wish there was more than one female character shown in the entire movie, but at least there wasn’t a forced romance with her.

non-serious review of pinups


nice chest view, dynamic composition, shows brian’s personality really well, HOW DO YOU DRAW BODY HAIR SO NICE?  like omg i cant stop staring at the che- i mean fish, love the lighting,


playful and full of energy, nice nip peek, compositionally interesting as well but not as dynamic as brian’s but overall still very appealing to look at, please assume that i love all the colour schemes of all the pinups because if not i’ll be repeating myself over and over


damien in a pinup pose, very romantic, i love Damien’s expression, the ‘come hither’ look though it makes me think of the dreamworks face, also i love his black nail polish, his also shows the least skin but it’s still very classy


also in a classic pinup pose like for damien but holy shit look at of all that cheese, also there’s some chest there that too and a little hint of underwear



ehem, anyway

also in a classic pinup pose but he’s on a beach drawing a heart, very cute, colours are spot on as usual. artistically a very pleasing piece and also the one that shows the most skin


def the sexiest of the bunch no doubt with his expression and amount of skin shown leaves just enough for the imagination, also i LOVE the angle like holy shit him just looking down like he’s looking straight at you from the top of the stage like holy shit


straight up cute with a hint of skin but more a little diegetic because the sunglasses are pulling down his shirt…. ehem but anyway, but it def shows off his personality with the dog and the whiskey and the whittling

overall, brian is the most dynamic, mat is sexiest, joseph’s pissed me off the most (unrelated to the actual art itself), craig’s is the cutest (but that’s cuz he’s my bias and everyone is cute) and hugo is best pinup because cheese

Let’s show religion as a prison instead of a guideline and a lifestyle, let’s show religion as a reason to receive hate, to be rejected, to be isolated instead of something that brings love and peace to those who practice it. Let’s show religion as an obstacle to happiness instead of something that aims to spread happiness. Let’s show girls as bitchy, selfish, uncaring instead of supportive, loving and nice. Let’s show women of colour as victims with no relief instead of people deserving of happiness and peace. Let’s show mentally ill people as a plot device not worthy enough to be explained rather than people who deserve to tell their story (or at least have their story told properly). Let’s show isolation instead of communication. Let’s show sadness and tension with no relief instead of questions and answers. Let’s show the blonde girl as the pretty one while the curvy one looks “funny”.
Probably what Julie Andem said when she started writing season 4 of Skam.

Unprepared - AbbyCatsUK

I like this photo, mostly because I didn’t realise I was taking it.

It’s nice to know I can take a photo that comes out well, at least for me, without having to pose.

It’s one of those that gives me a little boost, a bit like when I do a video. It shows that I don’t just have to be a perfect angle to look okay.

I especially like my make-up, I can see the contour on my cheek, jaw, nose and I even slightly contour my lips.

My eye shadow was a bit of winner for me too. It’s a lovely shade of purple, purple is certainly a favourite colour of mine.

Imagine Sandor realizing that Tormund has a crush on you

(So just got too inspired by the recent GOT episode XD and had to get to this request!! Hope it is as requested and you all like it!! Yay for Tormund being cute and Sandor being jealous xD Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original owners.)

As he walked the countless miles of snow that separated him from The Wall and what lies beyond, Tormund Giantsbane couldn’t stop smiling to himself.

The cold wind and exhausting workout wasn’t enough to bring his morale down, especially when he had you on his mind the whole time. He was trying his best to forget about how suicidal the mission ahead was going to be and decided to focus his thoughts on being with you.


Since he’s met you at the Wall, there was no doubt he was smitten to you. At first, he was certain you were the prettiest boy in the Night’s Watch he’s ever seen, prettier than Jon Snow he thought and said to you one day.

You weren’t too small nor too short, just lean and firm enough to knock him down off his feet the few times you sparred together. He just loved inspecting your face and truly was in disbelief by how a boy could look so beautiful. Not to mention your strength, gave him all sorts of idea. It wasn’t until he felt something missing, that he realized you were actually of the opposite gender.

When he found out, you practically had to shut his mouth to keep him from screaming and freaking out. Nonetheless, since, he had even less shame to openly flirt with you and would have the habit of making everyone else around uncomfortable, especially your friends that knew about you as well.

Although, it weirded you out to have a Wildling practically stalking you, you never really stopped him from doing so. You admitted it was nice to finally relax a little after everything you went through for a little while and have a good laugh from all his odd gestures.

After so many months of escaping King’s Landing along with the Hound and Arya Stark, the three of you ended up parting ways, sadly.

Back in court, you and Sandor had just started your rather intimate relationship. You had liked him for some time and so did he apparently, as he nervously and carefully accepted to become yours just as you promised to be his.

However, with the Battle of the Blackwater, your plans all went to shit and quickly you had to escape the Capital with him, only to be taken by the Brotherhood without Banners.

Luckily, they let you both go and you ended up crossing paths with the younger of the Stark girls, saving her from Lannister men. From there, you all traveled, trying to get her to her brother, the King of the North.

It ended up in vain but you were strong at the idea that you and Sandor could be together forever. However, the Light of the Seven didn’t seem to agree as after you and him had decided to make way for the Wall after the news of Lysa Tully’s death, Brienne of Tarth cross paths with you.

As she tried to bring Arya back with her, Sandor decided to defend you both, starting a long fight. He told you to quickly run away with the girl but instead you had to deal with her squire.

In the end, you were certain he would’ve been alright, but you then found his injured self and couldn’t give him more help than he needed. With a broken heart, you promised him to bring Arya back to her home.

As the days passed, the young girl left your side one night, leaving you alone. With nowhere to go, you decided the Wall was still a viable option.

As you finally arrived at the Wall, you simply joined the Night’s Watch acting like a boy for the meanwhile, all while the lord commander instantly recognized you from your first visit to Winterfell.

He helped you after you admitted to him what happened along the way, making him have a slight hope at the idea of his dear little sister actually still being alive. He was a man of his words and held no grudges against you, understanding that she must’ve truly escape your side at night.

To thank him, you helped him as much as he could and ended up yourself participating in patrol north of the Wall and such. Now, here you were riding to Eastwatch after receiving a letter from Tormund that read that he and Jon would be riding North of the wall to retrieve a wight to bring back to court.

However, what motivated you to go join them by the castle, was the news that he had in his cells a tall and rather big man, with a burnt scar along with two other men that sounded familiar.

Your heart had skipped a beat, thinking of who exactly it might be and just had to go see for yourself if you were right.

As you rode, Jon and the others were still marching along the cold icy roads, straying further from the Wall.

Keep reading

Laconic (Kuroo Tetsurō)

Originally posted by shouyou-sunshine

Summary: In a world where everyone’s first words to their soulmate are tattooed on their soulmate’s forearm, you are cursed with the vaguest, most simplistic tattoo in history. And you hate the word “hey.”

Genre: Fluff + Soulmate!au

A/N: This is my first fic for an anime and I’m not even an anime blog (whoops lmao) but I saw @lazyhaikyuu’s post and I just couldn’t help myself!! Enjoy the 2.8K words :)

Keep reading


|| 9th August 2017 ||

This week’s spread: August is apparently going to be space themed for I am too lazy busy to think about another theme, plus the 10th of August is Saint Lawrence, the night of the falling stars! At least that’s what we call it in Italy: if you go out in the countryside, you should be able to spot plenty of them!
Anyway, I love the colour of the Tombow I used here, Tombow 451, sky blue! It’s such a pastel, soothing hue!
Wish you a great 10th August and a nice return to classes!

Currently listening to: Scarborough Fair - Simon & Garfunkel

bringingyaoiback  asked:

How about Phoenix Wright hatches a plan to "seduce" Edgeworth in order to get some info on the case and it's painfully awkward but somehow Edgeworth goes along with it?

“Soooo, Edgeworth. Miles. Miles Edgeworth.”

The man in question looked flatly at Phoenix, peering at him over the rim of his glasses. “That is my name, yes.”

Phoenix leaned on Edgeworth’s desk, casual, closer than most people considered friendly but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. “Did you do something with your hair? It looks silkier than usual today.”

Edgeworth gave him a scrutinizing look, squinting at his face before turning back to his paperwork. Phoenix could never decide if he liked it when Edgeworth did that or not. With his piercing gaze it almost seemed like he was looking into Phoenix’s very soul, but there was never anything malicious about it. At least never when he did it to Phoenix. “Thank you.” The thanks was clipped, professional, like everything else about him. “I would ask the same of you, but your hair is just as unruly as usual.”

Phoenix scowled. His hair was not unruly. He had it ruled exactly how he wanted it. But if he got angry he’d blow his whole plan. “I mean it,” he said softly, sliding a few inches closer. “It looks nice. You always look nice, but today there’s just…something about you, you know?”

To his great surprise, the tips of Edgeworth’s ears turned the same colour as his coat. Holy shit, that worked? “Th-thank you.” Edgeworth cleared his throat and avoided Phoenix’s eyes. His face was steadfastly turned away from Phoenix, looking down at the work on his desk instead.

“Hey, Edgeworth? Miles? Is it okay if I call you Miles?” Phoenix reached out and put a hand on Edgeworth’s shoulder. Edgeworth nodded, still focused on his work. “Miles, then.” Phoenix leaned down a little closer. “Miles, we’ve known each other too long to beat around the bush like this. We both know what I want.”

Miles finally turned to face him, staring up at him with an open wariness in his eyes. His lips were slightly parted and his whole face was scarlet. Phoenix bit back a grin. The Chief Prosecutor, blushing like a schoolgirl. “And what would that be?” Miles asked, and to his credit his voice never wavered once.

Phoenix leaned in, bracing his hands on the arms of Miles’s chair, grinning from ear to ear. “I want the updated autopsy report.”

Miles’s face darkened and he shoved Phoenix back. “Get out of my office.”

“Aw, Edgeworth, come on!” Phoenix was not whining. “It’s not fair that you guys always get to have the important information and my kids are scrambling around to get any little lead they can. Just a little peek? Please? For old time’s sake?”

“Everything’s always ‘for old time’s sake’ with you,” Edgeworth grumbled. He turned back to his desk and pointed at an envelope without looking. “Take it and get out. And to think, for a moment there I actually thought you–” He clammed up before he could finish his sentence.

“You thought what?” Edgeworth remained silent, signing a document with an almost violent scrawl and slamming it onto a pile. “Miles, what’s wrong? I was just teasing.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Everything went dark for a moment and chains lashed around Edgeworth, a large red lock slamming into the middle of it all. Phoenix took an involuntary step back, eyes widening. Whatever was bothering Edgeworth, he didn’t want Phoenix to know about it. “Miles,” he said warningly. “Talk to me.”

Edgeworth glared up at him. “It’s always teasing with you. I’m sick of it.”

Phoenix gave a wry grin, trying to diffuse some of the tension. “What, you want me to stop teasing and just kiss you already, is that it?”

Edgeworth said nothing, just stared intently at him. Phoenix’s grin wavered and fell off his face entirely. “Wait, is that it?” Edgeworth shrugged and Phoenix sighed. “Well you should’ve just said something. For a genius, you’re kind of an idiot.”

Before Edgeworth could open his mouth to reply, Phoenix’s lips were on his. And as he felt Edgeworth’s hands grab at his lapels to pull him closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of a psyche-lock shattering.

stealing kisses

I adapted your prompt a little anon, but I’m such a sucker for high school aus. plus it’s clexa con and ed sheeran’s new album is so romantic. 

Clarke and Lexa steal kisses from one another without their friends realising, or so they think anyway. 

listen to how would you feel 

“You have paint on your fingers.”

Clarke pulls away and Lexa watches as her nose crinkles, eyes narrowing even as a smile plays at the corners of her swollen lips. Her gaze is soft with affection and the ends of one of her braids tickles Lexa’s cheek when she leans back.

“Is that really what you want to say to the girl who’s making out with you?”

“It’s distracting,” Lexa draws up their hands from where they are tangled together at their sides and brushes her thumb tenderly over the flaking blue paint covering her girlfriend’s index finger.

“Distracting enough to stop me from doing this?” Clarke crowds against her again and Lexa’s eyes widen, darting up when Clarke presses her back into the bookshelf, their bodies close. Her lips skate over Lexa’s jawline, a ghosting touch and Lexa’s head falls back, barely catching the groan that trips out of her throat. 

Keep reading

Another Mitjo fic!

It’s cute fluff this time (no horrible sad zombie AU which I hate but can’t stop thinking about.)

SUMMARY: Jonas is in his second or third year of marine biology at university.  He and Mitch live in an apartment together.  Uhhh also Mitch is making some pretty sweet dough from selling drugs by now???

A/N:  A lot of this is based off of personal experiences with friends taking me to clubs with them and such.  I outlined this in some sort of post-club stupor at 4:30am last week, and I guess I decided to actually finish an idea for once???

Also, this is my first time trying to write in present tense???  It feels super weird to do, but I hope it reads okay!

Anyways, happy Valentines Mitjo Day!!

@smokeplanet @mitjo  <3

Here’s uhhh, oh my god is this the title…

Keep reading

hi; I’d like to submit my White Knight redesign to be considered for FusionFall Legacy, features include:

  • a turtleneck (from his concept art/M. Rex) so he isn’t a fashion disaster anymore
  • more suit-like suit
  • he probably already wears makeup since he’s on a screen 24/7, so now he has some gold eyeliner on (with geometric shapes) (includes gold flakes)
  • he sometimes models… macro images + geometric shapes + minimalism + hints of avant-garde is still an advertising trend and Providence has to get recruits
  • I think his pecs are a key part of his character, and showing them, in a fun window, is uh,
  • symbolic or something
  • eyes have bits of red in them to more indicate human albinism (bright neon funky pupils optional)
  • gold accent colour more apparent
  • he looks very nice

Inktober Day 13: ‘The Earthmover’

You know those characters that you don’t think about for a while, and then all of a sudden get punched in the gut with the sudden recollection of how much you love them? Lin is one of those characters for me. I think she’s wonderful.

🌈 emoji reviews


BEAUTIFUL !!!!!! the best rainbow ive ever seen!!!


its ok. they could have shown the clouds cuz now it looks WEIRD…!! the colours look funny


small cloud try harder! nice bright colours though


so beautiful i might cry :’) so pretty. gorgeous. well done samsung


wtf thats so ugly i could make a better rainbow on ms paint!


weird shape but thats okay!! all rainbow shapes are good


no. thats not very good its very boring, but at least it has the right idea


the only good messenger emoji!!! it looks so good u could eat it!!!!!!!!!


the best the best the best!!!!! such pretty colours and nice rainbow shape.

thats all thank u

dementedcat  asked:

4, Damian and Jason? I totally understand if you don't get to this one :)) thanks for doing this!!

4: sick!fic

Bruce’s shoulders are heavy as he walks upstairs. 

Alfred had left a few minutes before to run some errands, and had given him very firm instructions to head on up to check on Damian. He hates seeing his kids sick; it’s one of those inexplicable parent-things that he never would have anticipated before taking in Dick. 

Seeing them sick as adults is bad enough (here his step falters, and he cringes, makes a mental note to check on Tim), but to see Damian, small and pale and weak, breath wheezing in his chest, pains Bruce deep inside. A soft spot he doesn’t like to acknowledge or even think about. 

But days like today, he has no choice. 

And it’d be much worse, he thinks, for his children to be sick and alone… He stops briefly outside Damian’s door, already feeling the corners of his mouth pull down. He raps two knuckles lightly on the door, says, 

“Damian… it’s just me, I’m coming in,” and he doesn’t wait for a confirmation, because he isn’t expecting a response. Damian had been complaining of a sore throat days before his other symptoms, after all. 

And when he enters, his son’s room is dark. Heavy curtains thrown closed, lights off, the conflicting smells of stale air and fresh sheets. Clearly in spite of Alfred’s best efforts. 

There, standing in the centre of the room, is Jason Todd. In his arms is a blanketed-lump, a dark-haired head pressed into his shoulder. And Jason, looking up, shushes him.

Feeling off-balance, blinking, trying to reconcile the image in front of him, it occurs to Bruce that Jason was not shushing him. He was shushing Damian, and keeps murmuring to him, low, gentle. He hears the words ‘just Dad’, and ‘don’t move, it’s fine’, but the rest is too quiet for him to hear.

Damian, still in his pyjamas, weak and ill, his normally caramel skin an ash grey, shifts his arms. Clinging tighter to Jason, who just says, “I got you, akhi. I got you.” 

The boy is a good few feet off the ground, sitting on Jason’s hip like a much younger child. Hands gripped carefully to the back of Jason’s t-shirt. And Jason, he notices, is actually swaying slightly, walking in little circles, arms gentle and fully supporting Damian’s weight. Damian’s face is hidden, but he makes a small sound of discontent, and Jason shifts his grip. Pulling him closer, murmuring something in… Arabic?

“What’s going on?” Bruce says, finally. Voice choked.

And Jason looks up from across the room, frowns at him. Brow wrinkling. Like it’s obvious. Still swaying, shifting on his feet, one hand rubbing up and down Damian’s blanket-covered back, he says, “I’m minding the kid. Lil demon’s sick as hell, he needs rest.”

“… he has a bed,” Bruce says.

Then Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “He’s an assassin baby, Boss. Do you know how much it freaks him, to lie down in the same place for hours? He’s too weak to defend himself if he had to, and he can barely move.”

The boy makes another sad little sound, and Jason keeps pacing. Keeps rubbing one hand in circular motions over Damian’s back. Says, “كلشيءعلىمايرام” and “أنت آمن الحبيب,and he quiets. 

“We— we have an alarm,” Bruce says, because it still doesn’t make sense, the way Jason is gentle and sweet and kind with his enormous hands and his enormous shoulders– the hands Bruce has seen break bones, the shoulders usually stiff with the weight of guns and knives and anger– the way he moves like a slow-dancer, keeping Damian pressed against him. 

They don’t even get along.

And he remembers, suddenly, vividly, standing with Jason outside of Wayne Enterprises— it’d been windy and they were walking to the car, discussing a case, and the boy had said, grin wide and cocky, “Don’t worry, B, I’m great with kids.” 

Bruce couldn’t help but laugh, then, looking down at him in his rumpled school uniform to say, “You are a kid, Jay.”

The grin had turned immediately to a huff; “Barely. And I mean younger kids.” Then, “Back before, when my mom… just. Sometimes I’d help, with some of the neighbour’s kids in the building, like if they got sick or whatever. And, like, they couldn’t always take off work cuz their kid was sick, so sometimes I’d skip school, to, you know. Mind them and stuff.”

“Yeah,” the here-and-now Jason is saying, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because feelings are always rational. Especially when you’re ten years old and have goddamn-pneumonia.”

And Bruce… shakes himself, takes a few steps forward. Quietly, “How’s he doing?”

Jason looks down at the boy, frowning slightly. Shifting his grip. “ ‘bout as good as you could expect. Poor brat.”

Bruce reaches out, rubbing a hand through Damian’s sweat-stiff hair. Alfred had helped him wash it yesterday, after they’d come home from the hospital. Bruce had had to piggy-back him from the car.

At his touch, Damian stirs, lifting his head from Jason’s shoulder; mumbles tightly, “Father?” 

He blinks tiredly, confusedly, at Bruce.

“Yeah, Damian,” he says. “It’s okay, just try not to talk.” And then, to Jason, “You want me to take over?”

Jason shakes Damian very gently, then, to get his attention; his head had already fallen back to Jason’s shoulder, his eyes closed again. “Hey, baby brat. You comfy here, or you want Dad to take you for a bit?”

The boy shifts effortfully, wrapping his arms more tightly around Jason’s neck. Hiding his face completely once more. 

And Jay actually smiles at that, says, “Uh-huh, okay.” A beat. “You know we’re gonna keep you safe, yeah?”

Muffled from Jason’s shirt and what has to be at least two blankets, Damian says, “… tuh.”

“Did you just try to click your tongue at me?” Jason asks him. “Jeez, you must be messed up. Don’t worry, your condescension is implied.”

And Jason makes another two short trips around the room, which actually seems to help help soothe Damian. He falls into a doze somewhere around the chest of drawers, the painful-sounding rasps of his breath slowing. Bruce just stands there, uncomfortable, unsure what to do.

“What time did Alfred say he’d be back?” Jason asks, after a minute. Quiet. 

“Less than an hour,” Bruce says, and Jason nods, like that’s what he expected. He explains, “Kid needs his next lot of pills at four, but I don’t know the dose.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Arabic,” Bruce says, after a moment of relative silence, broken only by Damian’s breathing and Jason’s footsteps on the carpet. 

“I don’t, really,” Jay dismisses. “Just a couple phrases I learned, when Talia. From when I was upset.” 

And that’s when Damian stirs, fidgeting uncomfortably. He pulls back far enough to see Jason’s face and gives a whine, says “Where’s Grayson.” and then sags again, clearly exhausted by his outburst.

“We’ve had this conversation a couple times already,” Jason reminds the kid, without heat. Rolling his eyes, but there’s a sympathetic twist to his lips, and his hand doesn’t slow on rubbing Damian’s blanket-covered back. “He’s on a plane, remember? He called us a few hours ago, when he was going to board. He’s still in the air now. And you know he’s gettin’ here as quick as he can.”

And Damian says something that sounds a lot like “Hrrrmmm,” sounding, for once, like a regular child his age, and doesn’t move.

Jay presses the back of his hand lightly to Damian’s cheek, then, frowning. “Hey, B? You mind getting the thermometer? I think his temperature’s back up.” 

And Bruce says, “Of course,” and is halfway out the door when Jason says, “It’s in the third kitchen drawer.”

“Thanks, Jason.”

“Sure,” he says easily, still pacing. 

And Jason’s back is to him, when he turns around. Pausing. His older son is keeping up a low murmur, half-Arabic, half-English, and his hold is exceedingly careful. Like Damian is something precious and fragile.

And this, too, is another thing he could never have predicted about parenthood; this feeling of awe and warmth, overwhelming pride. He knows his boys well enough to know they will never talk about this. As soon as Damian is strong enough to walk on his own, as soon as the colour is back in his cheeks, it will be back to constant insults and barely-contained violence. 

But for now, Bruce thinks, at least there’s–

“Nn… Todd?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Your accent’s … ‘ttrocious.”

Excuse you, demon. Jesus. You try to do something nice…”

– well, something there. Probably.