#outdated tech <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[rremingtonreed]

y’all i tried drawing with mostly the lasso tool on ibispaintx for the first time, how’d i do? lol.

though i did use the eraser to make it look smoother and the brush to outline it.

Inspiration:

[itz-pandora]

Thinking about Shadow and Metadow and Metamyadow

[lynxpawxd]

woah

[goatsghost]

i was going to make a “blue beetle spoilers without context” post but it’s literally just spy kids. the whole movie is just spy kids

[un-pearable]

oh yeah saw blue beetle last night and one million thumbs up. going into having heard it’s very tokusatsu and comic booky made it one million times better. goofy and stupid in fun ways. i’m so glad we’ve looped back around to comic book movies being like comic books: confusing chronologically and catered to fans willing to put up with wildly specific nonsense. also heck of a great job making a movie about gentrification and colonization out of the chaos of blue beetle lore and corporate blandification i genuinely had fun

[staggeringhiraeth]

Anyone want to buy me a gaming computer? My computer is STRUGGLING to let me play in the lower city in BG3.

I only bought it 1 or 2 years ago and it's already outdated. -.-

(Poor thing is really trying though.)

[lizardboiii]

At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape. 

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages 

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it. 

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options. 

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away. 

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best. 

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip. 

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in. 

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend. 

Your confidant. 

Your everything. 

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier. 

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit. 

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses. 

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air. 

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move. 

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different. 

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man. 

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you. 

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location. 

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow. 

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways. 

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax. 

This was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave. 

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream. 

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store. 

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register. 

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf. 

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too. 

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this? 

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere. 

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips. 

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid. 

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause. 

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!” 

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand. 

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.  

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash. 

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had- 

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal. 

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done? 

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor. 

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head. 

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close. 

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence. 

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence. 

“Woah, this just got really awkward.” 

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.” 

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long. 

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them. 

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face. 

Your name spilled from his lips. 

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you. 

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor. 

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?” 

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.” 

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

[frudoo]

HELLO!! OHMYGOD!! I found your blog bc I was searing for bear(six) fics and found your fic, gifts which lead me to reading some of your other writings and!! Baker Simon is my favorite I've read so far!!! It's so sweet, I love it! Poor si getting all flustered at seeing such a pretty bird in his house, touching his arms n soft tummy when taking the profile picture. Doesn't want to admit his nerves when you leave and begin to work on the pictures, feeling his heart rate pick up in his chest when he hears his phone ping, hoping it's you with a new message. Even if it is to send the pictures you've edited by him. BUT ALSO! clearly, reader is into tech at least somewhat right? What if he gets their help to also re vamp his little marketplace page, he's an older man now n his fingers are too thick for any of tha' delicate stuff you do wi'h all them pictures, darl'

I will stop myself here🤚🏻very excited to dig into the rest of your master list!

Warnings: Suggestive <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | previous

“Is it really tha’ bad?”

     You spin in Simon’s office chair to look at him with a sheepish smile. He grunts in embarrassment, running one hand over his face. 

     “Fuckin’ ‘ell.”

     “No, Si, it’s n-not that bad!” You try to reassure him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer. “It’s just a little…”

     “Hideous?”

     “Stop that! It’s just a little outdated,” you smack his arm playfully before facing the desk once again. “I can see why you’re not getting very many sales.”

     Simon rolls his eyes, caging you in with his big arms as his head hovers above your shoulder. His proximity makes your breath catch in your throat and your hand shakes a bit as you grab the computer mouse, wiggling it around to click on a link. It takes you to his files, where you’ve downloaded every edited picture you sent him. 

     “Alright, old man. Get out and let me work my magic,” you click your tongue, feigning cockiness.

     “Kickin’ me outta my own room?” He teases, ruffling your hair. 

     “Bitching to the girl who’s saving your business?” You swat his hand away and raise an eyebrow, giggling at his dramatic sigh.

     “Don’t blow up my damn computer.”

     Simon exits his office and heads to the kitchen, figuring that if he can’t help you out with all that digital stuff, he might as well do something he’s actually good at. He gathers the ingredients for a fruit tart—one of his favorite things to make, but something he’d never consider selling. The cost of ingredients is way too high for it to be a sustainable menu item, with the amount of fruit necessary just to make a single tart.

     By the time Simon puts the tart pan in the oven and the custard in the fridge to cool, you’re already finished revamping both his Marketplace page and a website you’ve created for his business. You call him back into his office and show him everything you’ve done—his menu is the same, but you’ve made it easier to read; you put a link to the order form on his website in his bio and in a pinned post on his Facebook page; you even updated his profile picture and header photo without him having to ask. As you explain everything to him, all Simon can do is hum and nod.

     “Do you like it, Si? I can change up anything you’d like me to. If you need an example order to see how the form works, I can… Simon? You okay?” 

     Simon’s eyes are no longer focused on the computer screen, but on you. Soft and warm, full of admiration and something… deeper that you can’t quite understand. He tilts your chin up with a crooked finger, leaning in close.

     “Perfect, lovie,” he murmurs, closing the minute gap between the both of you.

     You gasp a bit but instantly return the kiss, resting your hands on his wide shoulders. When he pulls away, you sit back in the chair, assuming that the moment is over. Simon has other ideas, though, bending down to grab your arms and wrap them around his neck. 

     “Best ‘old on, sweet’eart,” is all the warning he gives you before hooking his arms beneath the back of your knees and lifting you out of the seat. 

     You wrap your legs around his waist at the same moment he reconnects his lips with yours. Heavy footsteps stumble backward until he reaches the wall, then flips you around so that he can press you up against it. Simon kisses you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, sucking and biting and breathing every ounce of you in as though trying to immerse himself in you. He allows his hands to run up your thighs, his knuckles causing your skirt to hike up. The sudden rush of cool air makes you shiver in his grasp, nails grazing the back of his neck. 

     “Bloody angel,” he whispers into your mouth. “D’ya know wha’ ya do t’me? Hm? I fuckin’ dream about ya.”

     “Simon,” you gasp, allowing your head to fall back against the wall as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

     “Tell me wha’ ya wan’, baby,” he instructs, peppering kisses along your pulse point. “Any fuckin’ thing ya wan’, ya can ‘ave it.”

     “Simon,” you breathe his name once again, whining when you feel his hot tongue dragging up the slope of your neck before sharp teeth tug at your earlobe. 

     “Say it, sweet’eart.”

     “I-I think your timer is going off,” you murmur.

     Simon pulls his face away from your neck to look at you for a moment, incredulous. Sure enough, the timer he’d set for the crust is going off, and he curses under his breath, gently allowing you back onto your feet. You giggle, following quickly behind him as he shuffles his way into the kitchen. 

     “Well, it smells delicious,” you tease, watching intently as he pulls the pan out of the oven and sets it onto a cooling rack.

     Simon stretches, cracking his neck and turning to face you yet again. 

     “You taste better,” he hums nonchalantly.

     You’re pretty sure that statement just made your brain melt out of your ears.

     He looks more determined than before, swaggering towards you with a gleam in his eye that sends heat spiraling in your belly. He cages you in against the island and your breath hitches, your eyes unsure of where they should look. They settle on his own, wide and pleasantly surprised, when he hoists you up onto the counter. His warm hands spread your thighs and he settles between them, trailing his thick fingers up until they tangle into your hair. You close the space this time, all too eager to feel his lips on yours again. 

     Despite how cold the countertop is against your bare skin, you are perfectly warm, surrounded by his body heat, intoxicated by the way his tongue slides over yours. Your hands sneak beneath his shirt and caress his abdomen before grabbing his ass to pull him closer. He huffs with amusement, smiling into the kiss. It only encourages you to squeeze him harder.

     “Cheeky girl,” he nips at your bottom lip. 

     Simon pulls you closer to the edge of the counter. One hand stays secured around the back of your neck while the other dips down between your plush thighs, pinky finger skimming the hem of your panties. You pant against him, hips bucking to encourage his hand to go further.

     “Ya wan’ my fingers?” He questions softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

     “Yes, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing his wrist desperately. “Please, Si, I need you.”

     The man pulls you in for another kiss, his middle fingers finally slipping past the fabric barrier separating his touch from where you need him most. He groans lowly at the warm, smooth sensation of your slick coating his fingertips.

     “Fuckin’ ‘ell, ya so wet,” Simon laughs breathlessly. “All f’me, love? I did this t-”

     A loud knock interrupts his sentence. He throws his head back in annoyance, shutting his eyes tightly, silently willing whoever the hell it is to go away so that he finally gets the chance to indulge in you. In addition to the knocking, the uninvited guest incessantly rings the doorbell over and over again. 

     “Simon, ah ken ye’re ‘ome! Open the fookin’ door, ye big lug!”

     Although you’ve never met him, judging by that unmistakable accent and the displeased growl that escapes from Simon, it’s not hard to identify Johnny MacTavish. 

     “M’gonna kill him,” he snarls, carefully removing his hand from your core and replacing your panties back where they belong. “Sorry, sweet’eart.”

     “Nothing to apologize for,” you assure him, thanking him with a sweet kiss as he helps you off of the counter before making his way to the front door. 

     “Wha’ the fuck d’ya wan’, Soap?” Simon swings the door open to reveal a beaming man looking up at him. 

     “Soap? Didnae think we were still on callsign terms,” Johnny pushes his way past the larger man and plops down on the couch like he owns the place. “Sae, wha’re ye doin’?”

     “Not me, thanks to you,” you chime in, biting back a cackle when the Scot’s head whips around in shock. 

     “Si-Simon, wha- who- ye-?!” He sputters, much to your amusement. 

     You stroll over to the blond and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder fondly. 

     “Forgot to upload your menu to the website. I'll be in your office if you need me,” you wink, then send his friend a small wave. 

     Simon hums in agreement, giving your ass a playful swat as you walk away. Even as you shut the door to the office, you can still hear Johnny’s flabbergasted rambling.

[jolynesmom]

aging yourself up or down in your dr (+ dating)

I actually refrained from talking on this topic on my tiktok since I knew I was going to get chased off the app and didn’t see a point in talking about it on tumblr since everybody here seems to be more open minded and mind their own business, until I saw multiple posts a few days ago here, where the op were shaming people for changing their age or changing the ages of people in their dr

those people definitely came from tiktok and I honestly hope this post reaches them as I didn’t want to directly interact with them

I think one of the posts was about how adults age ‘minors’ in their dr to date them is problematic, which made me laugh, because how is it problematic if they’re both the same age in their dr?

and the sad thing about that post is that the op said that they’re aware how shifting works and all that, but still finds it problematic and hopes people that do that never shift which is just… girly I hope YOU never shift because you don’t deserve it for shaming people trying to live their lives

I’m not going to go into details about the og posts, but they still have the outdated idea that if you shift for a character that is much younger than you here it’s ‘problematic’. once again: how is it problematic if you’re the same age in your dr?

and then they hit you with another outdated take ‘it’s problematic because you find them attractive here’ which is ridiculous because of so many reasons

1.many characters (especially anime characters) don’t act or look their age. if your perceived a character as an adult initially then found out they’re a minor, I simply don’t care. ages in fiction never matter, if your mind perceived x as a certain age then they’re that age idc; 99.99% people are attracted to a character for who they are, not their age

2.many people had crushes on characters when they were younger or the same age with that character and still like them. let’s boo them that their crush on the character didn’t die and their fav character didn’t age, acting like you’re not going to be in their place in a few years

‘not true I’ll stop liking my favorite character when I’m of age 😡’

okay sweetie keep telling yourself that, because I keep seeing people on tiktok that had this mentality: they liked an underage character when they were minors and wanted to shift for them, now they’re adults, haven’t shifted yet but STILL like that character and regret having said they’re gonna stop liking that character when they’re adults because it didn’t happen lol

3.people don’t always script that an underage person here will be their s/o, it just might happen. I’m actually going to use myself as an example for this: so here I’m an adult and I’m also aroace which I dislike because I always dreamed of a fantasy novel like romantic relationship, so I’m straight or bi in most of my drs so I can date. in my jujutsu kaisen dr, all the people in jujutsu tech are adults because I don’t like teens or kids and don’t wanna hangout with them. in my 30+ drs I only have 3 scripted s/os which are all adults here. I didn’t script an s/o for my jjk dr, because I want to focus more on friendships and training there (but secretly hoped choso would pick me, a girl can dream ok); a few weeks ago I channeled multiple people from my dr (yuuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami and geto) and I received normal messages from all of them. I expected all of their answers, except yuuji’s answers which had romantic aspects to them. that made me realize that he might have a crush on me and maybe we’ll even date in my dr or something? who knows, I didn’t think too much about it so idk

so now if a character that’s underage here likes me in my dr, am I supposed to refuse them or shift out? lmao you’re delusional if you think I’m doing that

4.people that have never experienced adolescence love here. a lot of people dreamed of having that sweet experience of teenage romance that disney and an insane amount of shows and movies love to push, but instead their teen years were filled with abuse and hate. why shouldn’t they shift to experience what was taken from them here?

ALSO let’s switch this around: why is okay for minors to date adults in their dr, but not the other way around?

‘it’s not as bad 🤓☝🏻’

imma be the devil’s advocate and say it’s just as bad

do you genuinely think it’s okay to be a minor here and date an adult in your dr? like do you really think your s/o would feel comfortable being sexualized by a minor and dating a person that’s a minor in another reality? you lowkey forced your partner to become a pedo if you think about it 🙁 /jk

and also if you shift to a reality where you’re a minor and become of age there, you’re officially an adult and shouldn’t date minors anymore, even in your ‘original reality’ where you’re still a minor. please keep the same standards for yourself

[intuitively-her]

What's next for you? (timeless)

Pile 1-(3 of swords, The Empress rx, 2 of cups rx, Strength, Queen of Wands, Knight of cups, 10 of wands, 6 of pentacles, 4 of wands, 7 of swords)

You've been holding onto this heartbreak for too long. It's time to open yourself up to love. Allow people to give you the love you deserve.🩷 Let people help you! Stop feeling so guilty. You also need to invest into more self-care. Take yourself out for lunch. Give yourself a spa day. Go on a shopping spree. Whatever you want! You deserve it after all these trials and tribulations. Invest into more beauty products like glossier, mac, or nyx.💄 Try out new hairstyles. It's time to step out of this sadness and remember who the f*ck you are! Exercise would benefit you and your mindset right now. For someone here, you need to stop telling people your business. Stop giving people updates. You need to re-evaluate your friend circle as well. Spend more time with your family and places where you feel safe and accepted. Nurture yourself more.🫶🏽

*Channeled song: Whatever you like by T.I.

Pile 2-(The Hanged Man, Death rx, The Tower rx, Devil rx, Knight of pentacles rx, The World rx, 9 of wands, 10 of cups, Queen of pentacles, Ace of cups, 2 of cups)

Everything will be okay babe!💗 By reading your energy, I can tell you're going through it rn. You've been holding so much in and holding onto so many outdated things and people. Things may seem like they're falling apart, but everything is actually slowly coming together for you. As hard as it may sound, you really need to keep your faith right now. This had to come to an end to make you see the path that's meant for you.🛤️ You needed to see how your current lifestyle and choices were no longer serving you. You have all the answers to your situation. Just block out the unnecessary noise and opinions. You really need to take a social media break. It's f*cking up your confidence. The more you let go of the past and make choices that serve your higher purpose, the closer you'll get to living the life you truly want. There's a lot of good things waiting for you! You really need to put in the work and come harder this time though. Expect new and genuine connections in the near future.

Pile 3-(3 of pentacles rx, 5 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, The Fool, 6 of cups rx, Temperance, High Priestess, Page of cups, 3 of cups)

You're coming out of this period of lack and walking into abundance. 🌟 Something was keeping you unmotivated. Financial drought? Divorce? You've flipped the script now! You been working hard to master your craft. This is my self-employed pile. Someone here could be a lash tech? Or in the beauty industry. This era is all about risk and reward.🎰 Block out the distractions! Someone here could study arts and literature. Think outside of the box more, especially if you're working on a creative project. Give your audience/clients/professors something that they won't expect. You're taking care of your inner child more, and they're appreciative of that!🫶🏽 You're doing what makes you happy, unapologetically. Spending time with your friends and family is lifting your spirits. This is the healing you need! Start traveling more as well, it'll help open your mind.🌊 Keep walking on this path to greatness and making the choices that benefit you. You're doing amazing sweetie!🩷

[dragonpastels]

Master post time!🐢

since I seem to have lost all control, I thought I'd put together this post to organize everything for you peeps!

Cracked Conscience

After Donnie has some rough few nights fighting the purple dragons him and the others are greeted by... A quite interesting version of Donnie's future self? What could this mean?

Main Comic

Chapter 1. Drama and Dragons

Chapter 2. A Different Shade of Purple

CC Ref Sheets

Evil Donnie Ref Sheets (Colored) Evil Donnie Ref Sheets (Linework) Tech Maintenance Fit Ref Sheet Evil Donnie Early Fit Ref Sheet

Future Leo Ref Sheet

Outdated: Evil Donnie Ref Sheets

Q&A With the Hidden City's Most Wanted!

Do you have a burning question to ask our wonderful host? Like their favorite color? What did they do today? Or deep philosophical questions? Or do you just want to give them unwarranted gifts? Well, here is your chance to ask until the feed drops!

⚠️Warning by submitting a question you accept the risk of the following: kidnapping, experimentation, dismemberment, collection, emotional damage, death. Any or all of these may occur per the host's discretion. This contract is legally binding and cannot be broken or altered.⚠️

FAQ: Frequently asked questions

what if I bribe Evil Donnie with uranium?

4th wall breaks (Jack Horner Animatic Related) You're all on my list You Heathen Brother Opinions

Shiny Rock Bribe

Can I Pet him? (Bad Ending)

The Poke/Jupiter Jim Marathon Time!

Snack time with Insults for dessert!

What if I got in a Sparring Match?

Does he like plushies?

How many times have you set a building on fire?

A gift of flowers

WHY ARE YOU GrAY???

GMF: Genetically Modified Furbies

How much sleep have you gotten? (why are you gray pt. 2)

IT'S 15 Rip Bozo (why are you gray pt. 3)

has he always looked this way?

the universe decides

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Color Reveal Saga~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

about the color thing

jobs for hire

Still not kidnapping

Can I dig in your walls?

I wanna study him like a bug

music tastes

shared dumplings

Trick or Treat! (late, whoopsie), Happy Halloween (ft body horror)

one more uranium bribe ought to do Family Drama Mini Comic

CC Year 1 Anniversary Mini Masterpost 🎈

CC Animatic Corner🎞️

Year 1 Anniversary Animatic (villain/character voice line compilation)

A very important message

Jack Horner Animatic (read disclaimer) Disclaimer: I recommend reading through Chapter 2 of CC. Although a few things have changed/are no longer canon. There are still a few scenes that are relevant to the comic. Therefore I recommend reading through Chpt 2 first to be surprised

How to Train Your Turtle

You like How to Train Your Dragon and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Well, you're in luck! Because these boys are now dragons and poor April is stuck with them after crashing on their island.

Chapter 1. Stranded

Ask Shenanigans

Dragon Logs

Dragon Shenanigans

Pre-Besties April/Donnie dynamic

Mikey the cuddle gremlin

A shiny rock for Donnie, tasty book snack

Have they heard music/do they like it?

will they have mutant forms/can Raph change his size?

[cyten0]

A Symphony of Crimson Masterpost

Figured this is gonna have quite a few chapters, so time to make it sort-able! Will update it as time goes on.

A combination of the carrion!sif au originally by @traumaboyexo, and an Au I was working on before, to add elements of AdventureQuest World's Astravia. Only needed reading is ISAT itself!

Siffrin is dead. And has been for a long time. But Something wants to live as them. Something that hungers. Something unnatural. But they want to stay with these people. And hope that they don't hurt them...

But Monsters rarely get what they want.

[Dialogue Symbol Key]

Asks are recommended! Feel free to ask away! Change and Equinox will happily deliver said asks to the party. You can also ask the Scale questions, as they have tech to talk to Change!

#Symphony!Asks is the tag I use for ask questions.

Character Ref and art: [Siffrin? and Loop] [The Scale] [A fallen star]

[Scale voice ref]

The following are links to the chapters released on tumblr, which are outdated or innacurate somewhat. The accurate version is on AO3, but these are kept as an archive of old writing choices!

[Prelude]

Act 1: Movement in Black

Ch: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18][19] [20] [21] [22] [?]

Act 2: Movement in White (Optimally read A-B, A-B)

A Side: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [8]

B Side: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Interludes and Misc moments

[End of a World]

[iamespecter]

Taking advantage of the fact that you reopened your questions, I've always wanted to ask you if you plan to show more of your Brawl Beasts OCs. Any lore or something caught my attention. I hope the question isn't too personal.

EHEHEHEHHEHEHHE twirls hair omg anon,,,,.,.,.,,., flutters my eyelashes at this question

I don't talk a lot about my OCs because I got this mental illness called "being a people pleaser in fandoms" but since anon has so graciously opened the floodgates.... :3

Brawl Beasts is a story of mine (in which I hope to make it a real series someday) that centers mostly around Cederick H. Gray, a 25-year old bear that's the local fish stocker just trying to live a normal life. He has a routine of getting up, going to work, working all day, going home, and then going to sleep.

He doesn't ask for much, he just wants to fit in with everyone else but his massive size making him a klutz makes it harder to do that.

That all changes when he spots a swan running away from a bunch of authorities, and they exchange glances, a sense of foreign deja vu that leaves him confused and distracted for the rest of the day.

And about a day later, while he was completing a delivery, some authorities approached him out of nowhere for questioning about a mysterious incident from 13 years ago.

He attempts to pacify the authorities while they were trying to take him in, saying the truth that he had no idea what they were talking about, the swan lady then comes to his rescue and high-end chase sequence commences as they try to run away from authorities.

After finding a lonesome alleyway to take a breather in, Cederick dreads about the fact that he's now a criminal on the run, and the swan tells him to suck it up, because this is his life now.

Angry and confused, Cederick refuses to entertain the swan's questions and keeps bringing up the fact that the life he's spent trying to get just right is now ruined.

She then makes Cederick question the fact that he has no recollection of anything 13 years prior. Only vague flashes that are part of an incomplete picture, and it works as he mulls it over. He then questions his existence and what exactly is he, and she extends her hand, saying she could help him find out.

Cederick reluctantly agrees, and she finally introduces herself as Francesca "Cheska" J. Yellow, and that's where the story of Brawl Beasts begins.

All in all, the story of Brawl Beasts is an action-packed adventure where him and Cheska must travel to different places to puzzle pieces of his missing memories altogether, to figure out what had happened 13 years ago all the while avoiding the people that want to either capture them, or just straight up kill them for snooping around. And to do that, they need help from three others;

Matthers "Matt" D. Timber-Wolfe, a weapons specialist hitman that was blackmailed to join in order to track and sleuth down the people who may have knowledge about what happened 13 years ago,

Charles "Fuzz" G. Fuzzford, a doctor to help with anything medical related the group may need... Well, he would've been a doctor if he could just pass the exams-

And Hazel "Zel" A. Brown, an ex-con now specializing in working and fixing tech. Despite being the one to recommend her, Cheska doesn't seem enthusiastic about seeing her.

I honestly think that because of the topics and the general tone of the story, it'd be rated 17+. Which, is to be expected because it's literally called "Brawl Beasts" lmao

I unfortunately do not have a lot of art of these guys unless I count old outdated artworks that have no relevance in the current story, because I've rewritten this thing like. 10 times by now I think... after all, this concept of mine has been around for 6 years already-

And once I reveal more about it, you'll actually see connections from this story that I took to put in my AUs lmao, this is like, my own version of what City of Metronome is to Tarsier Studios

Anyways random art dump that's still kinda relevant (featuring my friend Megi's mushroom oc, Gimo)

And the bonus T-R-E-A-T meme

[hanahaki-disease]

You Can’t Recall My Name

Hell or High Water - Percy Jackson/DC crossover

Summary:

“I’m not talking about Dick, or Cassandra, or even Stephanie—I’m talking about Jason! I saw him. When I was in the Labrynth with Grover. I saw him.”

“I thought you said he was dead?” She asked.

“That’s why I need to go back,” Percy unlatched the door to Blackjack’s stall, the hinges creaking as he led the pegasus through. ��I cant—I can’t stay here knowing that Jason might be alive.”

The title of this one is from the same song used for arc 2, “Descending,” but this is the beginning of arc 3. Hope you like it!

*****************************

Logically, he should not be in his cabin packing. He should be out in the camp, checking in on the other campers and those in the infirmary. He should be with the other cabin counselors, planning and preparing for the next attack or theorizing about what Luke and Kronos were up to. He should be preparing the shrouds with the others, painting and weaving the tapestries to send their fallen campers into the underworld.

Percy should not be running away when the camp needed him here.

His body was screaming at him to stop what he was doing. Being hunched over the trunk that held his clothes, knees touching the ground and straining his already sprained ankle. His shoulder burning as he dug through the miscellaneous clothes he’s gathered over the years. An old camp shirt from his first summer, the hoodie that was now too small from this past winter break—even the old Meriweather prep gym shirt was still in the trunk. How had that survived?

Maybe he should have gone to the Apollo cabin before he started to do this. Stolen a shot of nectar or just swallowed an ambrosia square whole like a seagull. It wouldn’t heal his injuries completely, but it would be enough to make him not clench his teeth so hard as he lifted his Gotham bag out of the storage. Or perhaps he should just jump into the ocean for a quick minute, let the saltwater close his wounds, heal his torn ligaments till he was left healthier than when he jumped in. He’d need it if he was to survive the trip back home.

“Percy?” Annabeth knocked on the cabin door. For a second, he was reminded of last summer where this had happened before. Annabeth, hesitant at the threshold of his cabin as he dug through the stuff that came from home. But in the span of a year, so much has changed. Grey streaked their hair, scars littered their skin, and they weren’t as unsure of themselves as they once had been.

They were stronger now. Soldiers in an army. Generals in a war.

“Where are you going?” She asked eyeing the black bag on the floor. She hadn’t seen it before, no one really had. Percy had brought it with him at the beginning of the summer and quickly stashed it in the false bottom of the trunk. It had everything Percy needed to make a bat-level emergency leave. Dominoes in case he needed to hide his identity (one made specifically for him) and Batarangs for quick and easy weapons. Bat approved rations and water treatment drops in case he was in the wilderness. Even the bag itself could be worn as a chest plate if strapped the right way, it was made of Kevlar and other lightweight, but still sturdy, material.

He didn’t think he would need to use it this quickly. Maybe in a few years or something, pickup a distress call in the area for some reason, grab the bag, and leave. Or it could’ve just sat at the bottom of the trunk waiting to be used but never needed to. He would have cleaned out the storage case, chuckled at the outdated tech, and continued on with his life since he didn’t need to stay at camp anymore. That he was grown and strong enough to survive outside the magical barrier that kept camp safe.

“I gotta go,” He hissed as he stood up from his crouched position. The straightening of his back made his ribs ache and he didn’t think he could put weight on his bad ankle if he tried.

“Go? Where? To Gotham?” Annabeth walked further into the cabin, worry and confusion on her features as she tried to stop him. “It’s not the end of the summer yet, and we just finished fighting Luke’s attack. It’d be suicide to go out there right now!”

Percy wasn’t paying much attention to her, which was rude, he knows. Alfred would be very upset he ignored a lady like that. But he can’t get that scene out of his head. Can’t get the clear as day image of those two, blurred by the rain on the dirty window pane, face to face, with a gun pointed at the other and the Joker tied on the floor.

Was it the labyrinth playing tricks with his head? Was it the adrenaline making him see things that weren’t real? If it was the labyrinth, why hadn’t Annabeth or Grover been affected, or had they just kept their hallucinations to themselves? It wasn’t making sense!

Annabeth ripped the shirt from his hand, jerking his bad shoulder and made pain jolt through him. “Perseus Jackson, you better tell me right now what is going on!”

“I have to go to Gotham, Wise girl, I need to know,” He strained his arm for the shirt. “Gimme back my shirt. I need to go.”

“No, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what is going on!” Annabeth dove for the bag, almost falling over because she wasn’t expecting the weight of it. Percy could seed her eyes widen when she glanced at the objects inside. The masks and Batarang, the grapple guns with its extra hook and rope, one of Tim’s collapsible staffs.

“I have to see my brother, Annabeth!” He was frantic now. Desperate to get the bag back, to leave and see if what he saw was right. Because it couldn’t be right. There was no-fucking-way that what he saw was real.

Percy was on coms the day Jason died. He could hear the wind and the engine from Bruce’s com, he could see the white of the snow in the valley. Hear Joker’s voice tease and taunt the bat. And for a split second in that chair, Percy could feel the heat of the blast. The fire on his skin, the smoke in his lungs. Alfred didn’t want him to go down there that day, the butler having a bad suspicion of what was to come. But Percy wasn’t really known for listening to orders. He had snuck downstairs, placed on the headset, and watched his brother get blown up.

“Give me my bag, Annabeth” Percy hissed when he stood, but he needed to get that bag and get home. How he doesn’t know, but he was going to figure it out, though Annabeth withholding his bag wasn’t helping. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you to get it, but I will if I have to.”

Her hands tightened around the strap, eyebrows furrowed and gray eyes hardened in their stare. She was really not helping. He didn’t want to use the training Bruce had drilled into him, the disarming techniques meant to confuse and leave the opponent unharmed. Didn’t want her to know that he was far better in hand-to-hand combat than he let on for the past few years. He may trust Annabeth with information about his life in Gotham and his status as a Wayne—but he doesn’t know if he can trust her with the knowledge of Batman. That secret had layers to it, it wasn’t just Bruce who’d be exposed. It be his whole family.

He knows how much she was willing to go for information, their journey through sirens’ bay last summer was the first that came to mind. And he trusts her with his life, obviously, he’d be dead if he didn’t. But this was a big part of Percy’s life, almost, if not, bigger than his life as a demigod. How many supers did he know simply because his adoptive father is Batman? How many of his friends in Gotham did he know because his brothers were Robin and Nightwing?

That was a whole other world that he doesn’t know if he ready to bring to camp. Worlds he’s tried to keep separated for the safety of both sides.

Annabeth didn’t budge in her stance, and while his ankle was very upset with him, as was the rest of his body, Percy dropped and swung her legs out from under her. Reaching for the bag with his good arm and twisting it out of her grasp with the ease that came from being trained by a bat.

“What the—” She said as she hit the floor. “Wait! Percy!” He didn’t stop though. He continued his way to the stables where he knows Blackjack will take him to the edge of Long Island so Percy can go the rest of the way home. The bay between New York and New Jersey wouldn’t take long to swim, a few hours maybe. And the salt water will heal him on the way too, so that helps.

Percy felt Annabeth’s arm grab hold of his uninjured arm, pulling him back enough to stop. “Listen, please.” She said, worried and a bit upset that he yanked his appendage out of her grasp. “Can you just explain what going on? You’re hurt and panicked after the fight and I wont let you leave unless you tell me. Your muttering something about your brother and it doesn’t make sense. Tim’s fine, you spoke with him right after you showed up for your funeral.”

“That’s the thing, Annabeth! It’s not Tim I’m talking about,” he pulled her towards the back of Blackjacks’ stable, telling him to keep an eye out. “I’m not talking about Dick, or Cassandra, or even Stephanie—I’m talking about Jason! I saw him. When I was in the Labyrinth with Grover. I saw him.”

“I thought you said he was dead?” She asked.

“That’s why I need to go back,” Percy unlatched the door to Blackjack’s stall, the hinges creaking as he led the Pegasus through. “I cant—I can’t stay here knowing that Jason might be alive. If he’s out there in Gotham looking for me and I’m not there.” He climbed on, wincing from the weight of the bag on his shoulder and the way his back had to curl forwards while riding.

“Wha—” She trailed after him. “What am I going to tell the others, to Chiron?”

“I don’t know and I could fucking care less, wise girl,” Percy tightened the straps. “You’re smart, you can figure it out.” With a silent command, Blackjack took off, leaving behind the battle worn camp.

——

Percy rose from the Gotham harbor with his injuries left behind on the shore of Long Island and his Bat go-bag draped across his torso. The ‘water’ clinging to his now ruined camp shirt and splashing onto the dock in a way water shouldn’t. There was still a debate on weather or not the water in the harbor was still water. The amount of toxins and waste spilled into it was beginning to show in the deepest part of it, the bed of it looking much like the Mississippi. Filled with trash and mud that made him sink up to his thigh. But there was still a bit of the original saltwater in there. The last remnants from when the water was still water.

To a native Gothamite, it was easy to tell when something was going to happen. The city would hold it’s breath. Anxiously awaiting to the snap of a gun or the crack of a bomb somewhere within its borders. Those not involved with the looming attack would take shelter in the dilapidated buildings that made up the city.

And if Percy wasn’t a native Gothamite, he might’ve thought twice about stealing some random guy’s bike. But Percy was from Gotham and he’s learned to not really give a shit about it. That guy probably stole it from someone else anyway, so he was doing a justice by stealing it from him. Karma and all that.

The drive to the manor let him rethink what he saw the other day. With dirty, and ancient walls surrounding him in the labyrinth, just barely taller than he was and scrapping the top of his head if he stood on his toes. Dried and dead vines would crawl up the walls and disappear into the cracks along the floor or down corridors that gave Percy a bad vibe by just looking at it, like still water in Crocs’ territory or silence in the halls of Arkham.

He had been following Grover as they tried to find Pan, the fresh breeze and the smell of cut grass leading them through twists and turns that would surely leave them lost had it not been for the satyrs’ nose. They had stopped at a t-shaped junction. The trail to pan Pan was straight ahead and Percy could see bright green tufts of plants beginning to dot the floors, but the sound of a gunshot halted Percy in his step. The exit of the maze was barely ten feet from where he stood at the entrance of the side corridor. The plastic of an old, worn tarp billowing in a cold and rainy breeze from the other side.

Percy recognized the smell of the rain from the other side, the all too familiar twinge of wet, rusted metal and smog. Of lingering toxins and various other poisons that never seemed to disappear. Percy knew where the exit lead to, he recognized the chipped and crumbling brick of the building on the other side. The hastily drawn graffiti on the wall and the shattered light bulb of the singular lamp at the end of that alleyway.

Grover tried to keep him going down the right corridor. Persistent on having his best friend return to the quest at hand, but it was as if Percy had been hypnotized by the scent of the rain and the sound of the gun. He knew that Percy had to know what was on the other side.

There, in the window of the building across from him, stood two people. The first he knew was Bruce. The pointed ears and rubber of the cowl, still with beads of rain dripping down the back of his head and onto his shoulders and cape. He was tense as he stared down the other person. Shoulders square and feet an equal distance apart, ready to spring into action should he need to fight or defend. Bruce was blocking his view of the other man, but Percy could see the very edge of what he looked like. An armored compression shirt, dark gray and tucked into (probably) armored cargo pants. Pockets filled with gadgets and weapons surely. A holster empty of its weapon that was clearly in the guys’ hand.

The other guy was talking, his voice growing louder with each word, to the point where Percy could hear him from where he stood. Something about him dying, about letting someone go free. And even with the sound of the rain and two brick walls, Percy could hear the gun cock and load another round.

Bruce moved to his right, letting Percy see who it was he was talking to.

Had it not been for Grover beside him, Percy’s ass would’ve hit the floor. Had it not been for Grover, Percy would have stepped out of the labyrinth and confronted them. Had it not been for the seeker and former protector, Percy would have gotten hurt in the blast of the bomb that shattered the windows and made the walls crumble as the exit closed.

Because there, with a loaded gun towards their father in one hand and other holding the captive Joker at his feet, was Jason.

The chittering of the bats in the cave overhead and the bright fluorescent lights shook him out of his thoughts. Percy could see Dick tinkering away at something in the vehicle bay, a pair of crutches leaning on a chair and his foot propped on pillow. Tim was at the computer beside Bruce, an arm in a sling and the Robin cape still clasped around his shoulders. And Bruce—well, he simply kept his eyes glued to the screen. No doubt analyzing some kind of footage for a case or something.

“When were you going to tell me?” Percy demanded as he let the bike clatter to the floor. To his left he could see Dick scrambling to get his crutches and Tim backing away from Bruce, wanting to stray away from Percy’s angered glare. He was angry at Tim too, obviously, but he can wait till they weren’t in the cave. Percy’s dramatic enough to cause a scene in the cave against Bruce, but not enough to drag Tim down with him. “Huh? When were you going to tell me Jason was alive?

“When were you going to tell me my brother was back from the fucking dead?!” He spun Bruce around in the chair, forcing the older man to look at him. “Or were you just never going to tell me?”

“How do you expect me to tell you when you disappear every few months,” Bruce stood. “If you want me to trust you with this kind of information, I need you to be present when it happens.”

“This kind of infor—That’s my brother!” Percy yelled. “You were going to to keep this from me? You have no right!”

“I have every right to keep his well being in mind,” Bruce commanded. “He is my son.”

“And I’m not?”

There was a silence that hushed the four of them. Dick was speechless where he stood, a mix of anger to his mentor and confusion to his brother swirled through his head, because surely Percy didn’t mean that. He was Bruce’s son just as much as Tim and Jason and he himself were. Tim could only watch as his best friend stood eye to eye against the older Wayne, a reoccurring argument that never seemed to end. Only put on hold till they can revisit the rageful words and hurt hearts once again. Tim knew how both of them felt towards the other, having become the designated listener to their rants.

Because he knows how hurt Percy is towards the man, he knows about the blatant disregard he once had for the younger of the two Todds had been bordering on the same kind of neglect Tim’s own parents had done to him. Tim had been told time and time again, every time Percy and Bruce butted heads, how Percy believes Bruce’s affection towards him was only because of his relationship to Jason. How he was totally convinced that Bruce would never have taken Percy in had Jason not been his brother.

But Tim also knew that Bruce cared for Percy just the same—if not more—than he had for Jason in the years after his death. The man had doubled down on making the Robin suit as safe and guarded as he could in the possibility that Percy had ever wanted to continue Jason’s legacy. He always made sure that the tracker they all had was kept up to date in terms of software and models, every communicator would be able to connect to the main bat-computer from all around the globe. All because Bruce doesn’t want to loose Percy the same way he had lost Jason.

And the fourteen year-old knows just how badly Percy wants to be told that Bruce still wants him as his son. Tim knows that Bruce would do anything to keep Percy alive and by his side.

If only the two of them could actually tell each other that, then this needless argument wouldn’t have happened.

Bruce didn’t speak for almost a minute after the statement and he didn’t seem too keen on backing down in the argument either. Percy didn’t want to take the high ground this time, he didn’t even want to continue this stupid fight. He just wanted to know if Jason was alive or not and arguing with Bruce wasn’t going to give him the answers he needed.

He stood back from Bruce, irritation and anger still coursing through him, but he had more important things than this. “You know what?” Percy dug into the bag he carried, pulling out the comm device and one of the dominoes, tossing the bag carelessly to the side, before walking back to the bike he brought. “Fuck this. I’m gonna go see him myself.”

——

Two weeks had passed since Percy’s return home. Two weeks since he stormed out of the cave. The dirty clothes on his back, a domino hastily placed across his eyes, and a stolen bike as his only possessions.

He would be fine on his own while he looks for his brother, Percy knows this. They had a bunch of different safe houses dotted around the city and a few on the edges of Bludhäven and Metropolis in case of emergencies. The one he was currently at was one Jason had set up in his last year as Robin. One he picked and planned and stocked himself, with only himself and Percy who knew of it’s location.

The grubby attic space hadn’t been touched since it’s debut as a safe house. Dust and dirt covered the smuggled pillows and blankets, moths had taken to consuming the very old Robin suit and civvies stored in the trunks. Half a decade old MREs and various other expired rations in a rusted metal box, he didn’t really need those though. He had enough mortal money to last him and he could always guilt Dick or Tim into bringing him food. But if he does that then they might follow him and find out where he was and Percy doesn’t want that.

Percy stared at the map in front of him, a red marker entwined in his fingers as he lined the ruler against the other marks he had made. To the unassuming eye, one might think Percy was just drawing random lines on the map. A dotted line from one street to another, a circle around a few sporadic blocks in the Crime Alley area, a random arrow at a random section. And the people who could figure out that he was trying to locate something, they would accuse Percy of thinking that he didn’t know what he was doing or wasn’t smart enough to figure it out. But they were so very wrong.

Yes, it’s true, Percy may not be at the top of the class and his grades may not be the best, but he was taught by the Bat. That had to account for something right? Both of his best friends were geniuses, a daughter of Athena and a kid with eidetic memory, and his older brother was the best when it came to literature. Not to mention the mandated Robin training he had gone through with Jason—not because he wanted to be Robin, no, but because it was good knowledge to have.

Which was how he was here, map of Gotham and a red stained ruler, trying to triangulate all the possible places he could try to find Jason.

Some days he wouldn’t show, other days he would. On the days he did, he was all over this poverty stricken and drug filled side of town. Jumping from the Narrows one day, then down to the harbor, and up again to the Bowery. Jason wouldn’t stay still and it was making Percy the tiniest bit frustrated.

He looked up to the shabby excuse for a pin board in front of him. He had assembled every newspaper article of Red Hood sightings that he could find. Bits and pieces of what happened between him and Batman that last week he was in the labyrinth. The duffle bag of heads, the explosion of ACE chemicals and the midtown bridge—even the op-ed about him and his control over the drug trade by Vicki Vale.

A part of Percy didn’t want to believe that Jason was the one who had done all of that. That his brother’s name was just attached like a footnote, a scapegoat to release the true criminal of the blame. But Percy knew what Jason was capable of, what he himself was capable of as well, outside the sphere of the demigod world. Jason was trained personally by the Batman to be a lethal fighter with enough mental discipline to knock-out an enemy instead of kill, which was harder to do when you know exactly the strength of your own punches. Jason was clever, a natural-born trickster that would have him fit in great with the Hermes cabin. Smarts like that could be the deciding factor in a fight.

“I thought I told the bat to keep his little birds in their cages.” Percy sprang into action, the domino already adhered to his skin from his attempt to track down his brother earlier that night and two Batarangs in hand as he kept a good distance between him, and the other person.

It was one thing to see his brother through the glass of the window earlier, when he was able to believe that it was just the magic of the labyrinth messing with his head and trying to trick him into believing it was real. It was one thing to see the pictures of him in the newspapers and on TV screens, with an announcer talking about his latest chase through Gotham or a spotting in an area he didn’t frequent much. But to see him this close—to he see his chest moving with each breath and his hands tighten, ready for a fight—was something Percy didn’t think he was ready for.

His hesitation seemed to be Percy’s downfall in their stand-off. A thirty second head-start that made him drop his defenses and let Jason spring forwards at him, a fist pulling back to try and knock him out. But Percy has taken enough hand-to-hand combat at both camp and the cave to not be able to dodge as a reflex. And he does have to commend himself a little, just a wee pat on the back, but he was very skilled when it came to his type of fighting. He was able to go against a fair few of the Ares and Hephaestus kids who preferred the close range style, but it seemed as if his brother as on another level. One to stand a chance against Bruce.

Back and forth they swiped at each other, kicks aiming to sprain ankles and push the other back. Gods, when did Jason get so big?! When Jason had been alive, when he was Percy’s age right now (and wasn’t that a sad thought?) he wasn’t exactly cut out for the wrestling team. They were made of lean muscles. Toned lats and wide shoulders, a swimmers physique since the water was their domain. Made to cut through the waves and ride the currents with ease. Jason, however, was big and bulky.

He was taller than Percy by a good few inches, and Percy was no small kid either hitting the five-foot-ten mark with ease and room to grow still. His shoulders were broader than they used to be and his chest was wider, no doubt a strong man type body. Large arms loaded each punch with power, and thick thighs channeled strength in every kick. And despite being quite huge, Jason was quick on his feet. Side stepping his own attacks with ease and redirecting them to disarm Percy or knock him down.

Jason swung his leg out, the heel of his boot digging into his stomach and sent him crashing into the wall behind him. He wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, the Batarangs falling from his grasp.

Percy didn’t have time to catch his breath it seemed, as only seconds after he was sent back, Jason’s hand found it’s way around his throat. He had to admit—Percy was a little scared of his brother right now. How could he not be? Jason was six-foot-something, had almost a hundred extra pounds of raw muscle and strength against him, and had Percy in a choke hold with one hand. The red helmet he wore gave him no impression what he was thinking and the guns he had strapped to his body made it so Percy could only do so much before his brother deiced to forgo the close combat and switch to firearms.

“How many birds its gonna take to make him realize that kids shouldn’t be out in the streets,” Jason spoke, his grip tightening as Percy clawed at his brother’s arm. “How many birds will I have to hurt to get it through his thick-fucking-skull?”

“J-Jay,” Percy gasped. “St-op!”

“Just because you’re not wearing a robin suit, doesn’t mean you’re exempt.” There was a glint of silver in the corner of Percy’s eyes. The fucker pulled out a knife against him. A knife. “I need him to understand, and this is the only language he speaks.”

Black dots were beginning to flood his vision and he didn’t know if Percy was going to last any longer in Jason’s grasp. He felt the sharp edge of the knife. It stung his flesh as Jason dragged it over his cheek bone when he pried the mask off of him, the adhesive tearing at his skin and leaving behind residue and irritated skin in it’s place.

“I knew who the other little Robin was,” Jason said. “The pretender in a dead kids’ uniform. But who are—”

Jason’s words stopped abruptly when Percy’s mask was fully off. The whites of the helmet widened, the grip around his throat was gone and Percy collapsed to the ground with ragged breaths and coughing spurts. He didn’t see him, but Percy could hear Jason step away from him. The knife he pulled clattering to the ground, his boots tearing and crumpling the map still in its spot.

The helmet distorted his voice, making the stuttered breaths of realization sound choppy in the speaker. “Percy?” He looked up at his brother when he heard the red helmet drop to the floor with a loud thud. Jason stared at him with a wide-eyed look of horror. Green but once blue eyes shifting from Percy to his hands and the knife he had used. His eyebrows furrowed together, as if he was in disbelief of what he’s done. “What—?”

“I came—looking—you,” Percy managed, his lungs slowly regaining oxygen but his throat ached with every word.

“No, you-you shouldn’t,” Jason said. “You can’t—” He looked at the discarded mask. “You shouldn’t be looking for me, Perce.”

Percy shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“You shouldn’t be out in a mask looking for me,” He rose his voice. “I’ve done bad shit, Percy, you know this.”

“I don’t care!”

“You should. Go—Go back to the manor.”

“No!” Percy stood on shaky legs, one hand on the wall. “I have spent the last two fucking weeks chasing after you only for you to tell me to go back to the manor? Two weeks wondering if it was really you under that stupid helmet.” Percy faced him, anger coursing through his veins and bring tears to his eyes. Was it truly anger? Grief? “Two weeks wondering why you didn’t even bother looking for me!”

“I did the math, I counted the days,” Percy pointed to the pin board. “You’ve been back in Gotham for four-fucking-months and not once did you bother to look for me. You chose to put your stupid ass revenge on the Joker and stupid vendetta against Tim—Tim!—before me! What the fuck!”

“I didn’t go looking for you because I didn’t want you to get hurt!” Jason defended. “I care about you too much to be the reason something bad happens to you. You’re my little brother!”

“Bullshit! If you really cared, you wouldn’t have cared about that and still looked for me! You would have confronted Bruce!” Percy yelled. “I watched the feed, I saw you, and Bruce, and the Joker on the video, and not once, once did you ask about me! If I was safe! If I was okay!”

“Perce—”

“Stop! Just…Just stop,” He ran his hand through his hair, the adrenaline fueled anger was wearing off. His limbs were shaking either from exhaustion or residual rage. His throat burned from his yelling.

There was a silence between them. Heightened emotions, regrets, grief and anger all mixing to create a thick atmosphere in the confined space of the safe house attic. He could tell Jason was trying to justify his actions in his head, trying to string together words to make Percy understand why he did what he did. And truly, Percy understands. He knows that Jason would have wanted the Joker dead after his death because he wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt or killed like he did—he didn’t want Percy to get hurt like he did. But nothing could have hurt him more than knowing he wasn’t even a priority on his brother’s Return to Gotham checklist.

“I don’t want to hear any bullshit excuses or half assed lies,” Percy picked up his domino from off the floor and the grapple gun he’d been using to get around. With a shoulder check on Jason, he made his way to the window. “If you wanna pull your head outta your ass and actually give me the real reason, you know where to find me.”

The sharp bite of the late night air pricked his skin as he swung out of the safe house, leaving behind his grief and his stunned brother. The last thing Percy wanted to do was go back to the manor. He didn’t want to see Bruce and start up that argument. Didn’t want to face Tim and his silence on Jason’s return (but he was willing to hear his defense.) Didn’t want to be bombarded with Dick’s worried questioning of his recent disappearance.

But it was a test for Jason. To see if in his second chance of life, if Percy was someone Jason cared enough to push aside his current hatred for Bruce and prioritize his brother.

And if he doesn’t, then Percy can still believe he was dead.

*****************************

So? What’d ya think? I think Percy’s reaction was justified, I’d be the same way. I also need to figure out how to being his Gotham side out more. Maybe in a BtFR (beyond the farthest reaches) ficlet or something.

And!! This is the beginning of arc 3 so be prepared for dynamic shifts and fun stuffs!

Thank you for reading!!

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[ravenmoodle]

what is KEEPING CROWS ?

-Back To Masterpost-

a fantasy, comedy story about a group of magic mercenaries tasked with ‘Keeping’ the peace between the human world of the mundane, and the Cursed World of monsters nd magic. The story follows the Keeper group known as the ‘Crows’ and their struggles with monster hunters, feral curses, and the mysteries that hide in the shadows of their own stories.

This is a full story and original world that I intent to animate, but sadly i'm not able to work on it as much as I'd like. If you want to see progress that isn't shared elsewhere, and help me make more of their story- find me on Ratreon.

Other Important ppl:

The 'Boss'- current leader of the Crows, giving them their missions. Bea- the team's main inventor and tech head. a menace. John- serves as the 'tank'. a stoic, blind zombie man. Frost- a soft spoken, romantic, ice elemental. heavy hitter. Kit- Lm's scout and 'assistant'- travels the world. a flirt. LM- Scientist in the Cursed King's court. lack of ANY morals. Lab boys- hiding away.. and with them. valuable secrets. Cursed King- He is always plotting.

(non cannon- doesn't happen in the story/ just doodling for fun) (Semi cannon- cannon concepts but doesn't apply to story in the way presented) (outdated- design has changed)

Info- lore/QnA- (animation) The Main Five- Line up - (refs/ inspo) Cursed Soul types- Safe Cities- Girls line up - (full trilogy) The Web (tm)- Designing Death- Her- Death Blankness- Cursed world Design -

Main Team- Broken Past- Ft. friend art Meeting. Ing.- semi cannon designs over time - Boss' axe- boss - outdated Animation practice- old art redraw- outdated Librarian lookin' ass- Late game concepts- old extras - semi cannon Rooms- Grey's saber form- Disappointed - outdated oh ghost boy- ego - (outdated /OLD art something sharky- part 2 cat boy hours- extra- again- outdated do you think?- (outdated) Brother -

"Villains"- Zydrate Anatomy - (Animation) introductions- Fireball - The Lab Master- LM doods- mouth.- angy - LM's Fall and Fate- extra semi cannon Lab causing problems- non cannon Drinks- Neptune's staff- plus Malik - blood - Neptune's treat - Picking Fights- Semi cannon The Attendant - Extras - Alek Alakazam- semi cannon? The Bramble- More - again - Super Villain- Royal Hunt- Stell redesign - more art -

Other Art- Full cast - outdated Creator of Heaven- Chaos twins- '7'/Aurel - extra semicannon? - 5s- extra- sanrio - Silver Creature- Saber Form- old - Kids, right? - Silver Makes Friends- non cannon More friends for Silver - semi cannon Jackdaws- Anura- 3 to 1- Meld - Ultimate Crows cast-

memes (mostly not cannon)- doing something stupid- The Oldest- crows Meet Concrete Garden- Extra The Meme dress- Hey Lab!- semi cannon? redemption arcs- meme charts- extra - outdated Gasp! a thing!- Hand em over- outdated

[notsogoodphotographer]

Hi i want to talk about my all time favorite camera 📸

pls ignore all my grammar mistakes, i’m not professional reviewer 😂 i just wanna talk about this camera.

This is the Sony RX1Rii, this is the third and “most recent” version of this camera. i put “most recent” in quotes because this camera is almost 10 years old. don’t like the old age fool you because this camera can keep up with the newest cameras in its niche.

This little point and shoot sports a 42mp full frame sensor. YES, F U L L F R A M E!! This tiny camera is actually smaller than all the x100 series (minus the lens on it). The camera has an incredibly sharp Zeiss Sonnar 35mm f2 glued to. This camera has 399 af points, with eye AF. The camera is incredibly fast and accurate!! the camera is pretty much a tiny packaged Sony A7Rii!

One of my favorite features of this camera is the pop-up EVF! This is a feature that was added to only this version of the camera and it’s a feature that i wish sony continued to incorporate into some of their other smaller cameras like the A7c or a6k series!

The camera does shoot video up to 1080 120fps, but does not have picture profiles such has S-log or HLG. This was a camera made strictly for photos, which is probably for the best because the battery life on this camera is terrible, any kind of prolong video shooting would absolutely burn through these batteries in minutes.

That brings me to my next point, my cons. There’s not many but i figured i’d point them out anyways for those who are interested in this camera. these aren’t make it or break it cons, these are just issues that hinder it from being the greatest camera ever released (IMO)

1) battery life, i believe it’s rated for like 220 shots. Ive definitely gotten it to last twice than that. That tiny body processing all that data on some of the tiniest batteries makes sense why it’s so bad. Luckily batteries are cheap and like i said they’re tiny, so they’re pretty easy to carry around!

2) no picture profiles in video. i know i touched on it briefly up above and this camera is mainly a photo camera AAAAAND hybrid cameras were just beginning to grow in popularity around the time this camera came out but it would’ve been amazing to have s-log in this camera for little snippets here and there. i know at the time IG and other photo sharing apps were mainly photo sharing apps, and a camera that was built strictly for photo has no business having usable picture profiles in video.

3) no crop mode in RAW. this one is weird to me because i know the A7Rii has an APS-C mode where you can shoot RAW photos with an inbody crop and there’s times that i’d love to shoot something at 50mm (35mm + sony’s 1.5x aps-c crop). there is a digital zoom option but that’s for jpg only.

4) PRICE!!!! why the fuck is this camera still being sold for $3200??!! this is a 10 year old camera with outdated tech. i bought mine used for $1900 (which is about the price of the fuji x100V at the time of purchase) and i still think that’s a little too much.

that’s really about it aside from minor complaints of not having tele/ wide converters. i’m also sure all of those cons stem from the small battery. I’d love to see all of these corrected in a Mk3 one day, but as of a couple weeks ago sony just discontinued the Rx1rii’s production. I’m being a little hopeful but maybe that means we’re getting a successor, i doubt it but a boy can dream.

I don’t really do reviews or anything but this camera has had my heart for the past 9 months so i had to show it off/ talk about it. this to me in the perfect everyday camera. it never leaves my side and comes with me to any and every trip! Im always blown away by the photos i create with this little camera and i know whenever a mk3 comes out im going to hop on the chance to buy on immediately!