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Lowkey the only thing stopping me from simping over nightwing are the horrible horrible memories of my ex/abuser simping over him

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All graysons are peak

Whoops, I think I got the wrong Grayson

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Ok story pitch someone write this sht down: rex giving you a massage afger a long day, and you give HIM a massage hm hm ??

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I realize having my professional pen name (that I use for applying for work) isn't the BEST thing to do on here when I'm literally posting abt how fictional men should get me pregnant NOW 😔

Hello to my future employer!

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rat

🫵 STOP! you are doomscrolling. tell me your favorite animal instead

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ANAWPSNDOHQOQNWJXAAO

Any Filipino invincible fans out there or

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Started new job

Tired already

🧍‍♀️

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I present rix splud

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TO THE MOON AND BACK. mark grayson x f!reader

wowowowow the first thing i’ve written in forever so sorry if it sucks

mark didn’t flinch when the needle made contact with his finger but he did sigh in relief. it had taken him upwards of twenty minutes and four needles to make the hole all the way through the stone. his tongue peaked out as he pulled the chain through. the small piece of stone hung in front of marks eyes as he inspected it with a satisfied smile —  you were gonna kiss him silly.

“mark–”

a yelp left him and he nearly dropped the necklace before stuffing it in his pants pocket. your giggle filled his room. 

“what has you so focused that you didn’t hear me coming?” you asked, smiling as you connected your hands behind his neck. 

his hands found their usual place on your waist, “nothing.” you raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. he was quick to pull you in for a kiss followed by another and then another, hoping to distract you and just wanting you close.

you licked your lips as you separated from him, “your mother left, by the way.” 

“hmm.” he was still relishing in the feeling of your lips on his, only half listening.

“she said not to make her a grandmother yet.”

mark’s eyes snapped to yours before his face turned red, “she did not.”

“she did.”

he pulled away from you completely, hiding his face in his hands and turning his back to you. you laughed, patting his back to comfort him. you eyed the muscles visible through the shirt he was wearing. he really did bulk up after getting his powers, or maybe it was the relentless training he put himself through, maybe both — either way, you were appreciative. 

your eyes drifted downwards, landing on a small chain half hanging from his pocket, “whatever you have in your pocket is about to fall out.”

“huh?…!” his fingers grasped the chain, securing it in his closed hand before you could see what it was. his eyes met yours, heart pounding, “i have something for you.” 

your head tilted in question. 

mark wet his lips, “turn around.” he fumbled with the lock, palms getting sweaty. he was sure you would like it—love it even—but nevertheless his nerves were flaring up. “close your eyes.” he made sure none of your hair got caught and clasped it shut. he took a deep breath and told you to open your eyes. 

your eyes fluttered open, immediately finding the cold rock resting against your sternum. you gasped, fingers coming up to cradle it. you turned to face your red faced boyfriend, “is this… from…?”

“the moon? yeah. i know how much you love it—her— and i just, you know, wanted to… it only took me like five minutes honestly, it wasn’t anything, really– just…” he rambled, scratching the back of his head, “eve made the chain and lock so if there’s something wrong with that, you should take it up with her.” 

your heart pounded, eyes darting around his face. a lovesick smile took over your face, letting go of the necklace in favor of cradling his face, “mark,” you cut off his rambling, “thank you.” his hands found your waist again, squeezing as you connected your lips with his, “i love it. i love you.” with a hand on his chest, you could feel his heart skip a beat. 

he rested his forehead on yours, “i love you, too,” his fingers grazed the piece of moon rock hanging from your neck, “to the moon and back.”

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sad peak BUT PEAK

thunderbolts bob is a cutie patootie and we all love him but my body and soul yearn for pre!thunderbolts bob. like, give me that meth addicted, minimum waged loser of a man right now

(tw: do not romanticize this shit, sex while under the influence)

a relationship with pre-thunderbolts bob would be awful. i don’t think people really sit with that long enough when they fantasize about it. it wouldn’t be ‘damaged boy needs love’ it would be ugly, it would be sharp-edged and heavy and uncomfortable in your chest all the time. it’d hurt you, and you’d hurt him, and somewhere along the way neither of you would know who started it, because it was always gonna end like this anyway.

there’d be nights you’d have to physically shake him awake. not in some cute oh babe you overslept, time for work kind of way, but in that panicked, stomach-twisting way where you’re not sure if he’s breathing right. sometimes he’d wake up swinging, teeth bared and pupils blown so wide they ate up whatever color used to be in his eyes. sometimes he wouldn’t wake up at all, not really — just mumble something about a guy named rick or i swear i paid him, i did and then roll over, leaving you sitting there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, counting how long his breath stuttered between inhales.

and you’d stay. like a goddamn idiot, you’d stay.

you’d clean him up when he came home reeking of chemical sweat and bar bathroom mildew, eyes too shiny, jaw working like he was chewing something invisible. you learned real quick how to tell when it was a good high and when it was the kind where his skin itched too much for him to sit still, pacing holes in the floor, muttering to himself about things you couldn’t see.

and when he got mean — because he always did, sooner or later — you told yourself it wasn’t really him. you told yourself it was the pipe, it was the lack of sleep, it was the impossible weight of existing with a head like his. even when his voice got sharp, slicing clean through you like it was nothing, even when he knocked over a chair or punched the drywall so close to your head you felt the plaster dust in your hair. you still reached for him.

“it’s okay, baby. i’m here. it’s alright.”

he hated it. hated the way you tried to soothe him, hated the way you wouldn’t leave like everyone else did. made him feel small, made him feel weak. you could see it twist in his face, that war between craving your touch and wanting to shove you away so hard you never came back.

and he’d disappear. because of course he would.

for days sometimes. no calls, no texts, not even that half-lucid voicemail he usually left at 3 a.m. the ones where he sounded like he was underwater, like he was already halfway to dead. there were nights you sat at the kitchen table with your phone in your lap, screen dim, thinking about filing a missing person’s report. you never did. because he always came back.

a little more broken than before. a little more frayed around the edges. sometimes limping, sometimes bleeding. once with a bandage on his neck he refused to talk about.

and every goddamn time, you let him crawl into your arms like nothing happened.

maybe you told yourself it was about love. maybe you told yourself it was loyalty. but deep down, it was survival. because no one else knew how to handle him when he was like this. no one else could get him to lie still long enough to remember he was human.

the worst, lowest, filthiest part was the way he’d fuck you after.

not hard. not rough. not some tender, making-up-for-it kind of thing either. he wouldn’t even move half the time. just be inside you, soft sounds shaking loose from his throat like it hurt to talk, lips pressed to your neck or your chest, sometimes just mouthing there like he could crawl inside you and stay.

“‘m sorry for yellin’,” he’d mumble. voice small. a little slurred. “‘m sorry, baby. promise i won’t leave again.”

liar. but you’d forgive him anyway. because in those moments, with his cum leaking out of you, with his heartbeat stuttering against your ribs, you could almost believe it too.

and then he’d be gone again.

because that’s who pre-thunderbolts bob was. a thousand contradictions in a body that barely held itself together. a ghost you kept chasing even when you knew he was dragging you down with him.

and you wouldn’t leave.

you never would.

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"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

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Update, the thought came and went, and I ended up not drawing 🧍‍♀️

I rlly need 2 consume bob fan art and keep looking 4 more, but then i remember i'm an artist and i can make my own >:)

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is that my handsome, elegant, intelligent, charming, kind, thoughtful, strong, courageous, creative, brilliant, gentle, humble, generous, passionate, wise, funny, loyal, dependable, graceful, radiant, calm, confident, warm, compassionate, witty, adventurous, respectful, sincere, magnetic, bold, articulate, empathetic, inspiring, honest, patient, powerful, attentive, uplifting, classy, friendly, reliable, ambitious, intuitive, talented, supportive, grounded, determined, charismatic, extraordinary, trustworthy, noble, dignified, perceptive, innovative, refined, considerate, balanced, open-minded, composed, imaginative, mindful, optimistic, virtuous, noble-hearted, well-spoken, quick-witted, deep, philosophical, fearless, affectionate, expressive, emotionally intelligent, resourceful, delightful, fascinating, sharp, selfless, driven, assertive, authentic, vibrant, playful, observant, skillful, generous-spirited, practical, comforting, brave, wise-hearted, enthusiastic, dependable, tactful, enduring, discreet, well-mannered, composed, mature, tasteful, joyful, understanding, genuine, brilliant-minded, encouraging, well-rounded, magnetic, dynamic, radiant, radiant-spirited, soulful, radiant-hearted, insightful, creative-souled, justice-minded, reliable-hearted, tender, uplifting-minded, persevering, devoted, angelic, down-to-earth, golden-hearted, gentle-spirited, clever, courageous-hearted, courteous, harmonious, loyal-minded, beautiful-souled, easygoing, sincere-hearted, respectful-minded, comforting-voiced, confident-minded, emotionally strong, respectful-souled, imaginative-hearted, protective, noble-minded, confident-souled, wise-eyed, loving, serene, magnetic-souled, expressive-eyed, brilliant-hearted, inspiring-minded, and absolutely unforgettable pookie lewis pullman?

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BYE

REMEMBER. gender is NOT the same thing as sex.

gender is what you identify as, while sex is what i'll be having with bob reynolds tonight.

stay informed.

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I rlly need 2 consume bob fan art and keep looking 4 more, but then i remember i'm an artist and i can make my own >:)

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THIS MAN THIS MAN RIGHT HERE

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mohawk mark