checking on you

Buried

@batmockingjay said: What if Jason fell asleep and woke up with some kid burying him? What would happen after he’s triggered?

I imagine something like this would happen (original post here)… 


It was bad fight. One of the more verbally heated and aggressive that Jason and Bruce had ever had with each other. If Alfred hadn’t been there, Jason probably would have done more than just punched Bruce. But he had looked the butler right in the eyes and felt his entire inner being melt. 

Hands still visibly shaking and bruised, Jason had stormed out of the Manor, ignoring Alfred’s sharp but hurting voice. Walking straight towards his bike, revving the engine and driving away into the night, refusing to look back. He was done looking back. 

He could have gone anywhere. Could have gone back to one of his safe houses and calmed the storm of his anger with an angry sci-fi book exploring colonialism and slavery. Could have gone to Bludhaven or Metropolis to beat up some low-lifes without getting interrupted by family. Could have ridden down Route 66 and ended up at the bottom of the grand Canyon for all he cared…

So why the hell did he choose the ocean?

Jason Todd hated the ocean. 

He always had. He had assumed it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t learned how to swim until Bruce taught him during his intensive training as Robin. 

Now, his dislike for the ocean had more to do with the murky green sea depths that bubbled up around you as your body sunk like a corpse. Seaweed grasping around ankles like talons ready to pull you down until your ears popped and saltwater filled your lungs and nose and you were clutching at your throat in desperation…

No.

Jason Todd hated the ocean. 

And yet, as he drove away down the interstate, hardly registering where he was going, his mind to filled with writhing emotions and thoughts and the roar of the engine to focus on the details, the ocean had called him. 

He had pulled up along a quiet row of pastel-coloured beach houses, balanced on wooden stilts that had survived many a hurricane. Jason pulled his helmet over his head, shaking it and running his hand through sweaty hair with a deep cursory breath. He took a moment to let the heaviness of the pre-dawn atmosphere wash over him, sitting there hunched over in the silence, then slowly got off the bike and left it there, walking towards the distant crash of waves. 

The old wooden bridge creaked beneath his boots as he walked over it, glancing around into the darkness as he took in the shapes of sand dunes and reeds rustling in the rough wind. When he reached the edge of the rough boardwalk he sat down, pulled his boots off, and rolled his cargo pants up above his calves.

Toes dug into cool sand as he stepped off the solid wood. Boots dangling by his side, Jason wandered out across the dunes, wincing against the pain of sharp shells scratching the soles of his feet. Soft, powdery grains became thick, grit, became cool water lapping against his ankles. Jason stopped, and looked out across the horizon with bated breath, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth twisted against the pain. 

Pink clouds pooled across the edge of the calm ocean as the sun rose above the frothy waves, as if heralding Aphrodite’s birth. The sky was an orange soda mix of rose petals and hazy gold light that reflected off of the clear water that danced up onto the shore, only to retreat back to the great expanse that lay before him in white foam.

And suddenly, tears were streaming down Jason’s cheeks, the scene in front of him becoming a blurred, bokeh vision of light and fragile, waning hope that beat in his heart like the waves beating against the shoreline. He turned his face up to the sky and allowed the dim stars and constellations to fill his sight with something other than water.

Jason Todd hated the ocean.  

The weariness burned in tired Jason’s bones, his lids growing heavy with the sleepless hours over the past week, and so he retreated back from the encroaching tide. He sat down in the sand, not even caring that it would get everywhere, and fought sleep while seconds and minuted ticked by unnoticed. The gentle sound of waves mixed with the occasional cry of a gull fought Jason’s stubbornness until he could stand it no longer. He felt himself sink back into a pillow of soft sand and drift away into nothingness, floating like a buoy on the waves…  

Sinking. 

His lifeless body thrown into a pit filled with glowing green waters that entered in through his nostrils and choked what little life he had left in him. It seemed intent on replacing his blood, mixing, coursing through veins until it pulsed with every choking, stuttered heartbeat… 

Buried. 

Groaning, the sobs racking his chest in stilted breaths as his brittle nails shattered against wood, clawing like an trapped animal. A crack of boardwalk under his boots, the coffin caves in and mouldy earth and worms press against his emaciated body, sunken cheeks, filling his mouth so he can’t even scream anymore, can’t move a limb, trapped under the dirt… 

Dead.

Jason started awake, and found that he couldn’t move his legs. Breathing rapid and heaving, he dug his way out of the packed sand and scrambled back in confusion.

‘Aw, that took me like, forever. Why’d you have to go and ruin it?’

Jason blinked in the blinding sun, disoriented, throat dry and stomach still turning with writhing sickness. He shielded his eyes and found himself face-to-face with a boy wearing bat-branded swimming trunks and wielding a purple plastic shovel.

‘Kid…’ Jason started, his voice hoarse, the panic giving way to cold fury. ‘You can’t just bury random strangers while they’re sleeping.’ 

The boy sniffed, brushing a strand of tightly coiled hair away from his face and squinting at Jason dubiously, like he was crazy. 

‘Why not?’

Jason let out a shaky sigh, running a hand across his sweaty brow. ‘Because. You just… you just, don’t. Okay?’

‘M’kay.’ He had the decency to look down, poking the sand in a somewhat apologetic, mostly distracted manner. ‘Well… sorry, I guess.’

They sat there for a moment in silence, Jason hugging his knees to his chest trying to calm his heart rate by taking in deep, slow breaths. But all he could see, all he could think about was the dirt collapsing in around him, burying him in the darkness. He shut his eyes, wishing the boy would just go away, but he could feel the kid’s stare boring through him. 

‘Are you okay?’ the boy asked him finally, prying, curiosity mixed with genuine concern. 

And Jason couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape him. 

‘No,’ he admitted, his voice more scared than he had meant for it to sound, looking out towards the waves, his face stony. ‘No, I’m not. I don’t like the ocean. Or getting buried.’ 

The boy hummed thoughtfully, sitting down beside Jason and following his gaze.

‘Yeah… I don’t really like the ocean either. All my cousins can swim, but I can’t. That’s why I’m stuck here playing in the sand.’

‘Well, I’m sorry you can’t swim. But that doesn’t mean its okay for you to go around burying people in sand.’

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right,’ the kid admitted grudgingly. He picked up a shell and played with it, running his fingers over the ridges before he tossed it as far as he could. He turned to Jason and held out the purple shovel. ‘If you build a sand castle with me, I promise I won’t bury anyone else in sand.’

Jason looked down at the boy and smirked, half reminded of a much younger, carefree version of himself that used to make deals with Bruce. Bargains, compromises, bets just to stay out one hour later on patrol. And suddenly, he missed Bruce. He missed his hair-tousles and deep laughter and sarcastic come-backs. He missed the the hours they had spent together reading, training, studying, eating… learning how to swim. 

Coming up spluttering from the deep-end, Bruce’s strong hand on his back, hugging Jason’s skinny body close to his bare-chest. 

It’s okay, Jay-lad. You’re okay. I’ve got you.

‘What’s your name, kid?’ Jason asked the boy.

‘Jamal.’

‘Do you want to learn how to swim, Jamal?’

Jamal’s eyes grew wide. ‘I thought you didn’t like the ocean?’

‘It’s not so bad when you’re not alone,’ Jason said lightly, shrugging his shoulders. 

An impish, gleeful grin spread across Jamal’s face as he sprang up, kicking sand in Jason’s eyes. 

‘Race you to the water!’ he yelled and dashed off.

Jason scrambled up after him with muttered curses, hoping the kid didn’t throw himself headfirst into the sea before he got there. His combat boots and Jamal’s purple shovel lay forgotten in the sand, abandoned in favour of peals of laughter that echoed across the ocean waters. 

Jason Todd hated the ocean.

Wanted to take her back to my place.
Driving 90, let the cops chase.
Making her damn it feels so good face.
And she don’t wanna wait, no, wait till we get home. 

… It’s better when it feels wrong -
It’s better when it feels wrong….

seriously, hell yes. i listen to Wrong so many times when i’m getting in the zone to draw Red every damn time, @what-is-fanart-even.

it’s not just the lyrics of the song making me think about him with an s/o or illicit hookup… but even the attitude and vibe of the song.

too. good.

Elias used to sit outside the NXT shows and play guitar as people filled in, until one time in Daytona the cops were called; they arrested Samson for soliciting, until the legendary Dusty Rhodes heard the story, came down and bailed him out.
—  Michael Cole on the Legend of Elias Samson, Raw 7/17/17

sorry if I’m confusing you all by not only giving you a new website but also changing my tumblr name LOLOL I WILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU ON WEDNESDAY, I PROMISE YOU’RE GONNA REALLY LIKE THE UPDATE…..I HOPE IT MAKES YOU SMILE……………IT MAKES ME FACE PALM A LOT

I got a commission done by @kassillus who is a perfect angel and I honestly owe her my first born because this is better than my wildest imaginations (and these girls are my imagination). 

tag - index

Really don’t think I’ve said thank you enough. And, I wanted to share with those of you who love my girls as much as I do so you can shout and cry over this and give it all the love. 

please do not repost my art

This is just one example. The images I shared of my prints were to promote my charms, you are hurting me by taking them out of context and removing the link to where people can purchase my prints and charms. People who find my work directly through a reposter will have to take extra steps to find me, let alone about my store. As a small artist who would love to be able to make merch and table at cons at least as a side-job, repost culture damages my chances of being able to do what I love.

I won’t go too much into Eastern artists here, but some have lost their jobs and/or quit drawing fanart because of reposting. If you want there to be fanart of things you love, ask before you repost. This goes for using artwork in videos as well. That’s too much effort? You don’t want to keep track of all of the artists you want to repost from? That’s nothing compared to the time it takes to do an illustration.

You should not be happy about stealing followers from the original artists who put hours into their works when you do nothing but browse tumblr or pixiv, then spam irrelevant tags to get noticed. Nobody will follow the original artist when lazy art repost accounts are there for the convenience of all fandom art in one place. This is not the worst of it, I’ve had a reposter get hundreds of likes on artwork of mine when my own upload of it had under 30 due to them mass spamming tags and gaining followers for no work.

I have now added ‘please do not repost my work’ to my bio as well, there is no excuse for not knowing.

I have made an instagram account of my own and I’m attempting to use it more often. it’s ririrubyart there as well. Support is appreciated.

2

meet my small wayward son, benjamin. i was unknowingly swimming with benny for half an hour. as punishment for scaring the shit out of me, he had to pose for the christmas card. no quesadillas for him. jessie is mom, not food.

anonymous asked:

symphogear trill seems to be some dude's self-insert fic where he dates all the girls. which is dumb but not so bad that its really worth bringing up or being vague about? so idk

Oh, I see. It’s still a little surprising this series manages to get fic considering how virtually unknown it is over here… I hardly trust any writer for this show outside my friend circle though, so I’m not up-to-date with whatever weird stuff gets written. 

random appreciation post

@detectivetrabula @achenlove @daekop @bvbblexo @nerdtasticawkwardpenguin @faeryixing @typicalfangirl07 @ninis-chicken-soo @baebyun @laylienn @perfectkimjongin @savemeilikeexo @nodeexo @junmie

you are all amazing people who deserve all the love in this world

Bitches will literally bump to Despacito and then try to get on you for listening to Kpop because “you can’t understand what they’re saying”. Bitch you-

Originally posted by dondehaypelo

me every 1pm

HHH i’m so sorry if you messaged me and haven’t gotten a reply yet (here && on IG) – i read them all and i think you are all so sweet and kind (thank you so much) and i wanna reply to you all asap but aaah life is so busy right now ;;v;;

i like compiling asks and keeping them categorized so it’s easier for everyone (and for future me when i decide to reread some of them) – but tbh i do the compiling when i have free time at work // that’s why i can’t compile them right now – there’s too much stuff to do in the office and when i get home i work on some art stuff until like 1am-2am and then repeat for the next day ;;v;;

i’ll try to answer a set this week (starting with the more recent ones) – but asdsgfdg please know i’m not ignoring anyone ;;v;; i really do appreciate you all and your support inspires me and keeps me going ;v; Thank you so much! ♥