dirty walls

Come Home (Jason Todd)

Pairing: JasonToddxReader

Warning: Slight violence, I guess

Tags: @letsrunwithdream

Part 1 Part 2

(Y/N) rolled on her stomach, her muscles were tensed in pain and her eyes were squeezed shut. 

She tried to remember what happened, how she got here, but it was gone. Whatever or whoever knocked her out did it good. Stay Calm, she thought. Freaking out would only make things worse. (Y/N) tried to get up, but the pain would not allow her, forcing her to sit down.

“Fuck,” she muttered, leaning against a dirty and cold wall. She took in her environment; a small filthy room she has never seen before. The lamps provided garish yellow light and wind was hauling through the holes and cracks in the walls. The perfect setting for a horror movie, (Y/N) laid her head against the wall. “Hello!” she called out, but no one answered. The comm system was also dead. What a surprise.

 (Y/N) was sure Bruce was already on his way here to get her.

“I don´t want to sound like a sexist now, but isn´t it Robin the BOY wonder?” an unknown voice spoke up. It came from the dark part of the room, the corner the light didn´t reach. (Y/N)´s heart started to pound. “You don´t look like a boy wonder to me, princess.”

(Y/N) didn´t know what to respond to that just frowning towards the shadow. Did he, it was a male voice, capture her because he wanted to ask that? Unlikely, but as (Y/N) saw a tall figure step forward, wearing a red helmet that covered his entire face she held her breath. A red bat was patched onto his chest. The young woman narrowed her eyes, “are you trying to be a mixture of good old Red Hood and Bats? Original.”

He took determined steps towards her, taking a fistful of her long hair pulling her up. (Y/N) clenched her jaw together not wanting to show in what pain she was.

He came close to her face, “I´m worse than both, sweety.”

“And what does worse than both want from me?” she hissed. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

“Call me Red Hood.”

“Thanks god! I thought something like Red Bat or Bat Hood was coming,” (Y/N) chuckled, but it soon died down as she saw Joker on the ground. A bloody crowbar laid next to him. (Y/N) kicked Red Hood off and shook the green haired clown until he started laughing.  

“Oh, (Y/N)! You´re here, too. Now it´s almost real family reunion,” he laughed. (Y/N) frowned, looking at Red Hood than Joker. 

Who was he?

“He replaced me with someone who worked with Joker… could there be something more ironic?” He laughed, the rage lacing in his tone was making her shiver. Her eyes widened as she realized who was under that hood. “Now the penny dropped.”

“Jason,” she said below a breath. Her mouth was hanging open in shock. He died. He was murdered. Why was he alive? “How…?”

“That you know who I am is pretty surprising. How long did he wait to replace me!? A week? Thought he would never talk about me, the failure,” He fumed.

“He lost you! He was a mess, Jason!” (Y/N) raised her voice. She began to understand what this was about and she didn´t like where it was heading.

“THEN WHY IS HE STILL ALIVE!?” Jason yelled and pointed at Joker. (Y/N) backed away, looking at him with big eyes. He was alive and he was angry.

“He is your father, Jason! You know he doesn´t kill!”

“He left me to die,” he growled, walking up and down in the room. “I thought I was going to be last person he allows Joker to hurt!”

“This is fairly entertaining,” the clown chuckled. (Y/N) gave him a heavy worded look. Jason on the other hand kicked him in the stomach a few times.

The former Robin walked past (Y/N) and pulled her up, cuffing her to a pipe, “say bye to Joker, Robin.”

“We can fix this, Jason,” she looked up at him, wishing to be able to read his facial expression, but the mask would not let her.. "You can come home.”

 "There is nothing that could fix me,“ he said and grabbed joker, walking out of the room. Was she really thinking he could be fixed? There was nothing that could soothe this. Nothing could make this better. 

He waited so long for this moment.

Jason’s chest was rising and falling heavily as the still familiar sound of the Batmobile was reaching his ears.

He was there.

There to pay.

Confession Booth Concept Drawing

Sophie was being really proactive about getting her booth made. She had already got her flats up and I was discussing with her how it would look. She came up with an idea to make the priest a bobble-head. Previously it was to be a real actor made up to look like a robot and I had talked to Becky about boxing the actors head out to look something like Kryten from Red Dwarf. I was in favour of the change to a bobble head because it means we don’t have to find an actor and worry about heavy make up on filming day. I put it to the group and the change was supported.

Sophie’s look for the booth was much like a Vegas gambling machine with neon lights and signs on top of dirty electronic walls.

I liked what she was saying and drew this concept picture to help her lay it out.

Okay so I know I’ve only ever posted like, twice but I’m in a hipster-y mood and I want to draw but I know I’ll mess it up so I’m gonna describe it and see how it goes.
“There is a sad woman, thin, with tied back hair and a gorgeous dress that cascades down to the floor behind her, she has expensive earrings and white silk gloves on. It is obvious that she has retired from, or is going to, a grand, lavish party. She is standing to the left from the viewer’s view, and is looking longingly at a painting in a thick, golden frame. The painting is stunningly vivid and could pass for a photograph, it depicts a dirty wall meeting with the ground, which is laid with bricks. The lighting suggests the scene is outside, and there is a girl sitting there, leaning against the wall. She could be the woman’s twin. She wears a wool, moth-eaten cap, a scarf, fingerless gloves, boots. She is covered in dust, it is clear she hasn’t been clean in weeks, but she is smiling, indeed laughing, the painting having captured her pure joy in that moment. The woman looks at the painting sadly, and now we notice that while it is a look of longing, it is also a look of happiness for the girl depicted in it. There is a line of text at the bottom, saying simply "In another life.”“

Inspired by Harley Quinn

The pipe is broken
The roof is leaking
The fluorescent lights are flickering
The air is heavy
The floor is damp
The barred window starring at me
Whispering of freedom
With serenity
As I look up with my eyes as wide as the moon
Bright with hope
Hungry for death
‘Soon my dear friends’
There’s a dark corner
And there’s a door
The peeling walls
Are dirty green
There are shelfs
And there are clamps
It’s a cellar and a trap
They told me I’m bad
They punish me
I’ve only hurt those who hurt
Eye for an eye
It’s only fair
So I sit here talking to myself
I’ve been planning this since the first day
All the things I will do
Revenge as bitter as all those years
As the tears of the mourning
As the fears of the vulnerable
As the hatred of those in pain
I will kill them one by one
Till everybody is dead
I can’t help but laugh
I feel the excitement flowing through my blood
The key slowly turning in the door
'I’ll show you crazy, like you’ve never ever seen it before’

this is the local art museum here and it’s the ugliest building ever.  fuck off  internationally acclaimed architect I. M. Pei

yeah a flat roof is a great idea in THE SNOWIEST CITY IN THE US

this is like the areas in fallout where they tried to design something that’s supposed to be a nice place but they only had the dirty wall textures to use

Can you imagine Yuuri getting all bold and pinning Viktor to a wall, whispering dirty things into his ear while letting his hands wander?

Because I totally can. And when he wakes up next morning and sees all the marks he left on Viktor’s skin, he starts blushing/mumbling and transforms into the precious dork that he always is. Mostly always.

Bonus: Viktor teases him afterwards, giving names like “my beast“, “playboy“, “Mr. handsome“, etc. He even calls him “daddy“ once and Yuuri gets knock-outed by that.


The Breezeway
Previous owners had used this space as a third bedroom in the guest house, though it was originally built as a breezeway. We decided we would rather have extra separation between houses so opened it back up increasing the outside lounging and eating options as well as expanding the views. On my first day working on this project (over two years ago!) I removed the sliding doors and walls that enclosed this space and tore out the dirty, beige, wall-to-wall carpet. I’ve never second-guessed that decision, but knew that eventually this area needed to look and feel like a room, not a tunnel. The beams and string lights went a long way in achieving “room-ness”, but I felt it needed more, maybe some art. As is often the case when I’m pondering a potential project, I started looking through my piles of materials. My steel scraps have gotten smaller and smaller as I’ve built the architectural fences, but I had a nice collection of angled off-cuts—rusted to varying degrees—and began to visualize them as a horizontal, dimensional wall sculpture for the breezeway.  Obviously, this carries elements of the fences into the breezeway. It also helps connect the outdoor spaces visually.  

alkenifanfiction  asked:

When you get this, say one nice thing about the person who sent it to you, two things that you are good at, three things you want to accomplish in life, and four words that describe who you are. Then send this to 5 of your tumblr friends.

Honestly, you are such an inspiration to me, to get my patookah into gear about my writing. I don’t know what I would do without you at this point. Your writing tips are amazing and your positive energy is what I need :)

Two things I’m Good At:

  1. Cleaning. You have no idea how much I love and how good I am at cleaning, like, I love it. I am very detail orientated, always have been. I love scrubbing dirty walls down.
  2. Writing. I don’t get a lot of feedback from my writing, and, whenever I do, they’re always positive. I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong, or if I’m just bad at advertising or marketing my work. If I had a bigger audience (a loyal one as well), perhaps I’d be more dedicated in my work.

Three Things I want to Accomplish in Life:

  1. I want to be a successful writer.
  2. I want to be a successful actress.
  3. I want to be apart of a successful attempt or journey to save wildlife, marine life, and multiple groups of people.

Four words to describe me are: passionate, clumsy, intelligent, persevering.

Breathing usually commands calm. Input of waves crashing against the shore, output of deep breaths, full stop against the world. No one is shouting and no one is breaking glass or treasured possessions, no one is throwing things. The command of peace. Grounding against a spinning planet.
Breathing now commands panic. Panic there is no one to answer for, no phone to pick up. Crashing, shaking, breaking, heaving breaths against the nighttime air, the white stained walls, the dirty comforter. Fear sold by the gallon, call it two dollars even, accessible to every person and child on this earth.
I want to tell a story, however, where it is being sold two dollars to just me. Curled up in the sweat stained sheets or against the freezing wall begging for the darkness to be less dark. Hyperventilating breaths with no seeming end. There is no ocean crashing, and it feels like an end to someone’s world against the nightlight. Someone broke something in a dream or in the real night, or maybe there is no causation for the panic, there’s just reaction.
Maybe in the story there is a girl breathing calmly, softly against the receiver of the phone. Maybe she is projecting calm, dumping out the bottles I’ve stockpiled instead of food in the kitchen pantry. Sure, I love her, sure, she’s listening. I’ll regret calling her tomorrow, but she’s a flashlight. She’s the full stop.
Maybe in the story there’s visions of gore staining the walls in blood and skin and maybe the visions contain me. It’s an ancient urge, I think. I know other self-destructors, their brains galaxies drowning in blood. What a vision. We want to be free, I promise I didn’t ever do those things because I wanted to. When my breathing doesn’t slow, the sharpness manages to remove the blockage and allow air to my head and blood to my heart. Now I just choke, gasping for air, until I black out and it ends.
I want someone to blame. As usual there is my mother, the nightmares, my past, and myself. Sometimes there is nothing and I am left with emptiness. I want someone to point to, for the cops to arrest, so I can finally live in peace. Of course, rationally, there are chemicals I’m lacking (among other causes) but that isn’t fulfilling. Someone has to be the perp in the situation. Someone’s got to go to jail for doing this to me.
So breathing now means fear. Unfortunately, I’m not getting used to it.
So I choke on spit and snot and blood and suffer the night out. And maybe, someday I’ll get to breathe.
—  Breath, K.C
Dr. Zed x reader [Alphabet Boy]

Alphabet Boy - Melanie Martinez

1497 words

“Let’s just say…mmm..” Lilith stalled, looking in all directions but the glaring Dr. Zed. “We need a certified doctor. Someone who’s precise but gentle. So they,” she titled her head at you. “Will lead further operations and injuries here on out.”

You stayed in your place, smirking at the “fake” doctor, leaning against the dirty walls of the clinic. 

“We, I,” Dr. Zed corrected himself. “Don’t need them. We’re doing perfectly fine here.” He ignored a tired, pained groan coming from a patient behind a blood curtain. “Fire them.”

“I can’t.” Lilith stated immediately.

“Can’t or won’t?” The doctor glared, grumbling out of spite.

“Either.” You spoke up, pushing yourself off the wall and stepping closer to the couple. “Pick one. I’m here to stay and fix everything that’s broken-”

“Why would you trust them anyway?” Zed interrupted. “They worked with Hyperion, -”

“Dhal, Maliwan, Tediore.” You listed on.

“See, they’re wishy washy. They probably don’t even know the largest organ.” He scoffed.

“Skin..” You answered, keeping in your irritated laugh, glancing between the two. “Everyone knows that. 101.”

Zed rubbed his temples, frustrated by the lack of Lilith taking his side. “Alright. Let’s see how much they can handle. Considering they probably only had to deal with a summer cold compared to me.”

“Excuse me?” You questioned him, scowling him. “You’re a case of dandruff compared to me.” You gave a sharp glare to the so called “doctor” and he just as much glared back. You knew you were better and wouldn’t stand a single ounce of being belittled.

“I’ve had dandruff once.” Lilith broke the silence between you two. “It was awful….”

“I bet.” You spoke up, looking her up and down. “Especially with that straight ass hair.”

“Okay..” Lilith rolled her eyes, brushing off the  insult. “As long as you two can play nice with each other, I’m sure a lot with get done. We’ve been getting quite a few wounded lately. Considering the amount of bounties on our heads.”

“Understood.” Both you and Zed on queue and parter each others company within the clinic. You taking the left half, Zed taking the right half. Of course tensions were high, constant belittling, angered taunts and yelling, even childish game wars on who could finish fixing up a patient. Zed never was one to share his personals neither his patients. Unsurprisingly, the rest of sanctuary took joy in the rivalry, Mordecai came up with an idea, a competition.

“Really?” You questioned, dusting off your pale coat. “A patient contest?”

“Yeah.” Mordecai crossed his arms. “Whoever heals the most patients, wins.” He pulled open his Echo, displaying an empty tally chart with both you and Zed’s name on it.

“And whoever wins get what?”

“Best doctor status!” Brick spoke up, balling a fist.

“But I already won that.” You say in a cocky tone. “Licensed, remember?” You eyed Dr. Zed with a smug look.

To your surprise he held his tongue and kept his sight on Mordecai. “When can we get started?” He questioned. You scowled him, your usual taunts not given a reply, you sucked your teeth out of frustration and focused back on the dreaded sniper.

“Whoever calls and takes in their first patient.” Mordecai answered before steeping towards the clinic door. “Oh, also.” He stopped, looking back. “Bonus points for critically damaged.” He tipped before exiting.

You smiled confidently, you and Dr. Zed facing each other, knowing exactly what each other were thinking: I’m going to win this easily.

“Aw, Zed. Don’t tell me you’re nervous. You did get a bit quiet earlier.” You taunted.

“Me? No. Let me worry about myself and you can worry about the specs of dirt on your clean floor.”

“Oh I will. We wouldn’t want bad bacteria flying into out patients wounds would we? Unlike your unbleached med bed.”

“Never mind. I’ll easily win since you can just talk your patients to death.” He rolled his eyes.

You glared at him, walking over to your side of the clinic. You could easily care for your patients. And like clockwork they swarmed in, from healing a patient with third degree burns, stitching up a patients gun wounds, to patching up an amputation. But just as you had your successful amount of tallies, Dr. Zed was just equally tied up with you.

You visited Moxxi’s for a short break, simple drink and snack, you were exhausted, frustrated, the muscles from your arms ached and the joints of your fingers popped. The patients came in faster than ever and the pressure from the competition wasn’t helping. You needed to win, wanted to win.

Night had drew closer and you began walking back towards the clinic. A dark figure bleeding out from his abdomen, blood falling in patterns, holding his stomach to prevent it. Instinct jumped in and you rushed by his side, practically carrying him into the clinic, placing him into the med bed. You groaned at the amount of blood staining into your coat and clothes. “Okay…” Breathed to yourself, trying to prepare what was to come.

You placed the anesthetic mask over him, trying to drain his energy,  yet the gas was too weak, he wasn’t falling to sleep fast enough. The patient screamed, agony tearing over him. The amount of blood that continued to spill out made you panic, goddamn it. He could literally die in minutes. You grabbed your instruments, string, needle, alcohol, everything. This was so frustrating.

The slice in his abdomen stretched open the more he tossed himself around, you tried to keep him still by tying him down, you needed to keep him calm and be able to clean his wound. “Please.” You begged your patient. “Please stay still. It hurts I know, but struggling will worsen the wound.” The patient continued to scream, begging for this to be over.

A chuckled came from the entrance of the clinic. “Can’t handle a simple patient?” The taunt drew closer. You groaned at the familiar voice.

You struggled to keep the anesthetic mask onto the struggling patient. “After all this time of bloody screaming, you finally showed?”

“I figured such a “licensed” doctor like yourself would’ve handle it by now. I hope for your sake you’re as bad as a doctor as I am at time management. “ Zed watched you, amused.

"Oh, in your dreams bitch!” You tightened the patients wrist, arms, and legs. “Please stay still and take in the anesthesia.” You groaned, trying to keep him down by the shoulders, he just wouldn’t stop moving. Oh god, you can’t do that. It can’t come to this.

“Help me.” You harshly demanded the doctor. 

“What’s that now?” Dr. Zed looked at you, baffled by those two simple words.

“He won’t stay still and the more he moves the more likely he could die. Can you keep the anesthesia on him?” Trying to keep the patient held down.

“Who would I be to not let you fail?”

“Please!” You begged, struggling to stay calm. He rushed over, keeping the anesthetic mask over him with one hand and using the other firmly pressed on the patients chest. You cleaned around the wound, you shook your head glancing at the needle and string. “I’ll be back.” You told Zed, he nodded his head in response.

You leave the bed and rushed to drawers, briefly looking in each one until you found what you were searching for. The staple gun, you quickly loaded it before going back to the slowly calming patient. He was still enough to allow you to carefully align and staple the wound together. The would stuck together with eight staples and the patient finally laid still.

You wiped any blood left and took a final sigh. Zed rested back, watching you fall back into your rolling chair. He let out a laugh.

“What?” You questioned him.

“We’re still tied.” He laughed through.

You felt relieved and stood back up. “I, uh…” You looked away from him.

“Thank you?” He finished for you.

“You’re welcome.” You said, letting out a chuckle.

“No..” He gave an insulted look.

“Thank you.” You finally said, letting out a relieved sigh. “I mean it. I mean you did good at assisting and…. Thanks.”

There was no other words you could say,  in all honesty it brought a sick taste in your mouth yet as time past both of your childish ways past. The both of you still had playful fights but they weren’t severe. You couldn’t even believe you had thoughts about being with him, but you indulged.

“Hey.” You smiled rushing into the clinic, finding the doctor cleaning his bloodied bed. He jolted at your sudden presence. “Let’s go.” You said excitedly.

“What are you on about?” He scowled.

“Dinner. Let’s go get dinner. I’m hungry.”

He squinted his eyes, unsure. “Together?”

“Have you never been on a date before?”


“Then let’s go.” You hooked his arm excitedly, guiding him towards Moxxi’s.

ᴹᴵᴿᴿᴼᴿˢ - (A One-Shot)

It’s 11:00PM, guess who’s up? Me, I’m sitting on my bed in my tiny dark box-bedroom on my tablet. I look out of my window, same old view: a dirty brick wall. The stench of Alcohol lingered amongst the apartment along with the vile scent of old wine that had long since soaked into the carpet and will never evaporate. My whole body trembles in my loose green hoodie; the sound of a glass breaking fills the deadly silence of the unwelcoming ‘Family’ flat. My hair was pulled in a tiny pony at the back of my head preventing it from littering my tear-stained cheeks. The heart clenching sound of my father returning from the tiny cellar with more Alcohol, I pulled out my phone and my trembling fingers slid across the screen onto my contacts. Zane. I clicked on the ring option and it started ringing. I immediately flicked it on silent so that minimal noise was in earshot.
‘Babe why are you calling me at this ti-’
'Zane it’s going to happen again!’ I whisper shouted with salty tears already making tracks down my face. My voice came out raspy and shaky.
'Travis calm down, Just lock your bedroom door!’
'It’s no use! He broke down the lock last time!’ Zanes voice somewhat soothes me, however this wasn’t enough to keep me from weeping. The sound of stamping erupts and I bolt up straight.
“TRAVIS WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING WITH YOU LAZY GOOD FOR NOTHING-” He roared his voice slurred, my bedroom door was slammed open and in came my dad. WarLock. His messy black hair was carelessly swept over his face. He slapped me straight on the cheek leaving a bright red mark. “ANSWER ME YOU ****” I winced, I shaking so much I’m pretty sure someone could have mistook me for a guy in a epileptic fit. The words slipped out of my mouth. “MY BOYFRIEN-” He threw me against the wall shattering the mirror in the act, “YOU’RE GAY? YOU DIRTY **** GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! IF I HAD KNOWN THIS I WOULD HAVE FORCED YOUR MOTHER TO HAVE AN ABORTION!” He shouted, his face was inches away from mine yet I could still easily smell the vodka in his breath. The phone on my bed was still on call with Zane who was utterly mortified. WarLock grasped a large shard of glass and lodged it into my calf, the burning pain numbed my leg and I let out an agonising scream. I slumped down on the wall but he wasn’t done, he began kneeing my face leaving 2 bruises, 3 cuts, a bust lip and a nosebleed. He metallic taste of blood invaded my tongue, after leaving me crying in a bloody heap he began rummaging through my stuff. As he got to my personal draw I literally was welcoming death. He held up condoms, lube and a vibrater. He threw them into my bed and shouted, “YOU GAY PIECE OF **** I HOPE YOU DIE SO IM FREE OF YOUR UGLY BURDEN OF A LIFE.” As dancing black spots overtook my vision, the wail of sirens deafened me. A few seconds later a loud crash of the door being kicked down, along with venomous command to get down on the ground. All I remember of that was Zane in tears jogging next to my stretcher.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
My eyes flutter open, I was rudely greeted by a extremely sore leg and a killer head-ache. Once my sight was completely restored, a certain loved one was lent on the side of my hospital bed, gentle to not pull out any of the 4 UV drips, I put my hand in his open palm. His eyes shot open.
“I’m sorry Doc I’ll leave in fiv- TRAVIS!” He swiftly hugged me; tight. Although I let it slid with the amount of stress I let him witness. I smiled for the first time in what seemed years. His whole being make me smile.
Weeks after that, I had moved into Zanes house. My dad was sent to a Jail in Russia and my wounds that almost vanished except from the large scar on my calf and a small scar running across my nose. Whenever I had a nightmare of the Hellish years of my childhood he would hold me, not in the threatening way my dad did but in the caring way my mother did.
“Hey TravBae?”
“Yes Zuzu-Bear?”
“We are perfect for each other.”
“Yep, we are beautifully gay.”

So I watched Red Dawn for the first time, and all of you should go see it!!!

The cast is:

C. Thomas Howell (The Outsiders)

Patrick Swayze (Dirty Dancing)

Lea Thompson (Back to the Future)

Jennifer Grey (Dirty Dancing)

Charlie Sheen (Wall Street)

and Darren Dalton (The Outsiders)

The movie is free on Amazon Prime with a bunch of 80′s stars and stuff so again you should go watch it!!