#Snippet of writing?

[therantingsage]

"....look, I know you don't believe me. But they want to meet you officially?" You say.

Loop's eyes crinkle in some kind of skepticism. "Do they, now?"

You nod.

A half-laugh, fake-sounding. "And what would that entail, exactly?"

You frown a little. "Well. I mean, they can control my body? So they can talk for me? Say hi?"

You hear Mira enthusiastically volunteer, which you expected to be honest. She was probably the best one of them for Loop to meet first. She was polite and non-threatening in most circumstances.

Loop looks you over. "Honestly. I don't really see the point. I don't really need to meet any of them, it's not like they matter to this situation." But they raise their hands in surrender, anyway. "But if it gets you to drop this, I'll humor you, Stardust. Send them in, or whatever!"

The more time that passes, the more frustrated you get with their continued disregard and disdain for your family. It hurts. It hurt before they hitched a ride in your brain, and it surely hurts more now, that they're all here to hear them say it.

Nonetheless, you pass the reigns to Mira.

It feels so weird, every time they do this. You have to fight the impulse to take back control of your limbs, because muscle memory and common sense dictate that your limbs moving on their own was not a good thing in the slightest. But the more you let them do it, the more used to the sensation you become. The easier it becomes to just....let go.

And still. When your mouth opens, your voice but her diction, it still feels alien. "Hello!" She greets. "I'm Mirabelle, but you...kn-know that already. Or maybe you don't, they didn't tell you who was coming out to greet you. I, I wanted to thank you, for being there for Siffrin when we weren't. We were so scared when we learned what he was going through. If he'd been alone....I-I don't even want to think about it."

She extends your hand towards them, and you feel your mouth curve up in a smile. "So it's very nice to meet you! We'd be honored to get to know you as well as they do!"

Loop's eyes dart, between your face and your outstretched hand, but they don't move a muscle. They don't move for a long, long while, even. Completely silent, and stone-faced.

And then they steeple their hands, something dark in their expression. Darker than you'd ever seen on them, really. "I've changed my mind, Stardust! I have absolutely no interest in continuing to play this game with you!"

Mira speaks for you again. "I-it's not a game, we're really here-"

"Really, stop being deluded, Stardust! I mean it! I'm not going to keep encouraging this behavior in you! I've already done it enough, clearly!" Their eyes widen a little. Too wide.

On reflex you steal back control of your body, shoving Mira back into the back. Something about Loop's expression frightens you. Something in it like mania, or a hysterical smile. You aren't sure how you can even tell without a mouth to judge. You just...can.

"Loop-"

"I'm only going to say this one more time, alright? So commit it to memory, since you've clearly got enough space in that head of yours to fabricate four whole other personalities~"

Like every other helpful tip message they give, the words superimpose themselves into your mind. You feel your family flinch from the sheer volume of them.

[Every time you talk to me about the family in your head, I will not give you any aid for the rest of that loop! I'm not getting paid for this, so I'd appreciate you taking my time seriously!]

You

breathe in.

You breathe out. "Fine. I understand." You stand from the root, and walk away without another word.

Loop huffs. You ignore them.

You've got four other people helping you figure this out, anyway.

[writersbloxx]

Body Language

When someone is...

Sad

Face/Body:

Avoidant/reduced eye contact

Drooping eyelids

Downcast eyes

Frowning

Raised inner ends of eyebrows

Dropped or furrowed eyebrows

Quivering lip/biting lip

Wrinkled nose

Voice:

Soft pitch

Low lone

Pauses/hesitant speech

Quiet/breathy

Slow speech

Voice cracks/breaking voice

Gestures/Posture:

Slouching/lowered head

Rigid/tense posture

Half formed/slow movement

Fidgeting or clasped hands

Sniffing or heavy swallows

Self soothing gestures (running hands over the arms, hand over heart, holding face in palms, etc)

[the-modern-typewriter]

"Please."

The villain raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise look up from their desk. "You can walk out of that door any time, darling. I'm not stopping you."

"I'd come back. It wouldn't - I don't want to break our deal."

"You don't want the consequences of breaking our deal. You absolutely want to break it."

"People are dying," the hero snapped. "I can help."

"Mm, of course you can. You're a miracle on legs."

"I'm just suggesting a pause," the hero said. "A temporary change of terms. That's all."

"And I'm just saying no."

The hero stopped on the other side of the table, fingers digging into the fine wood in an effort to control their temper. They took a deep breath. Released. Another.

"I'm still yours," the hero said. "I'd still be yours."

"Always. But N-O spells no."

"I'm begging," the hero said, through gritted teeth.

"Is that what that is?" The villain finally deigned to glance up. Their eyes - a dark and stormy night for all bad things to happen in - did not match their light tone. The amused curve of their slight smile. "Gosh. Your standards are slipping. You're not even kneeling or anything."

"Would you say yes if I knelt?"

The villain's head tipped to one side. "No," they said, after a long moment. "But I'd sincerely appreciate the view. Perhaps it might even distract you from this latest bout of self-loathing."

"Screw you."

"But it's so much more fun when you do it, dear."

"This is serious!"

The villain scoffed and merely pointed a finger at the door, expectant and waiting.

The hero's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt but they didn't move.

"Mm," the villain said. "Are you kneeling or are we done here?"

The villain could have lied, they knew that. They could have pretended there was a chance that they'd say yes. They could have offered false hope, only to rip it away again once they'd had their fun.

In the grand terms of their arrangement, the villain had done absolutely nothing wrong. They were even, in their own particular way, being kind.

There was a bitter taste in the hero's mouth.

"It's bad out there," they said, voice cracking. "People need me. They could - maybe it could be fun. You've never played at saving the world, have you? We could do it together. Go together. It could be an experiment. A game."

"Perhaps," the villain shrugged. "But I don't think that would be very good for your mental health."

"This isn't very good for my mental health!"

The villain simply looked at them.

The hero could leave. They could end the deal at any time.

But, then, the villain would simply leave too. An apocalypse slipping free of its gilded cage. The horrors on the TV would seem mild compared to the fight to come.

"I could be back in an hour," the hero said. "You wouldn't even notice I was gone."

"And I could end the world by lunch time," the villain said. "You'd be dead before you had time to be too distressed. What's your point?"

"You really don't care what's happening out there?"

"No."

"You have to care."

"I don't."

"If you're worried I'd get hurt-"

"-I'm not. I'd slaughter anyone who tried to hurt you before they got the chance."

The hero's mouth dried. Their fingers flexed on the table. They wanted to scream. Fight. Throw things.

The villain leaned back in their chair and sighed, at whatever they read on the hero's face.

"You are saving the world, love," they said. "You're here. With me. Do I need to prove that I still have teeth?"

"No," the hero said. "I - no. Thank you."

The villain nodded, just once. "Good. Come here."

"It's okay. I - I'm okay."

"You're not. Come here."

Feeling foolish, and furious, and raw, the hero rounded the desk. The villain's arm wrapped around them, pulling them close. The grip was painfully tight, mercifully impossible to wriggle free from, and so the hero had to settle against them. They could hide the prickle of tears against the deceptively vulnerable line of the villain's neck.

They stayed like that until the hero could no longer hear the screaming beyond the window.

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #10

"Oh hell naw!"

Goon Nr.1 shouted the moment the bag got pulled of Danny's head, and he squinted at the light. His eyes adjusted.

"I am not paid enough to deal with a Wayne kid!" Goon Nr.2 groan.

Danny blinked again. Now he could just... easily walk out of this, but the school trip had been boring, and he thought he could get in some rough housing if he let this men... like kidnapped him. You know? Like he does with his ghost rogues. But this was unexpected now that these guys were apparently getting a closer look at him.

"Come on its Wayne kid! The Ransom will be a big pay out." Goon Nr.3 said cheerful.

Danny blinked again, the other two goons giving the third one a rather deadpan stare.

"New guy?" Nr.2 asked.

"New guy." Nr.1 confirmed.

Okay, this was the point on which Danny was now puzzled. Who were the Wayne's? Why was kidnapping them bad? And was this a good moment to transform and get a bit of brawl in? He really wanted some action after all the museums and sightseeing trips Mr. Lancer took the class on.

Goon Nr.1 was now patting Nr.3's shoulder like he was an innocent child. "Dude, we don't mess with the Waynes because that alerts the Bats. We don't want to deal with Batman if we don't have too."

"Last time I worked for Peguin, he strung me up and tied me to a roof..." Nr.2 shivered.

"I saw him take out ten guys at once before... ran for my life that day." Nr.1 sighted before he shook his head. "And that's when Batman has a good day. On a bad day... you will have broken bones."

"And in the worst case, you get one of his spawns to show up instead." Goon Nr.2 added on.

"Uh... Spawns?" Danny couldn't help but ask, blinking from his spot on a chair, no longer tied onto it as he had already phased out of the ropes while they weren't looking.

"The Robin's!" The two goons said in sync and then proceeded to launch into an explanation about the Robin's, their theory about which Robin became which other vigilante according to the timeline and how Red Hood fit into that theory and also why they were so much worse when they showed up instead of Batman.

Danny won't deny it. That was kind of the most interesting part of his school trip now, as he sat there nodding along to the explanation Goon Nr.1 and Nr.2 were giving him and Nr.3.

Meanwhile...

Mr. Lancer was panicked. One Danny Fenton was missing. A Fenton was mission. He lost a God damn Fenton in an unknown city. He needed to do damage control and that quickly. Unknowingly alerting the Bats to the situation through contacting the GCPD to find one blue-eyed, black haired teenager.

[bugstung]

Miraculous Ladybug redesign ft disabled Adrien and some thoughts

[super-ion]

I was at a strategic planning meeting and they were talking about how they keep losing pilots in frontline assaults against the forcefemme hivemind so I asked how bad our numbers were and they told me they just need to boost recruitment and training for new mech pilots so I said it sounds like we're just feeding pilots to the forcefemme hivemind and then one of the generals started crying.

[reguluskeys]

Regulus writing James love letters, only signing them with a star at the end, because he doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions and is terrified of rejection from the embodiment of the sun.

James trying to figure out who wrote the letters and slowly becoming friends with regulus, and overtime hoping he’s the one sending the notes.

Regulus slipping up and accidentally quoting himself, making James realize his wish came true.

[saltystingray]

Drowning in anger unfiltered, i see now we are two sides of the same coin. There is no glory to be had, and pride has no place here. May the best man win.

(Do not edit or repost)

[ghostgoing]

“YOU!”

Jason turned his head to see a small guy with black hair pointing at him. He was wearing a light grey hoodie and jeans.

“Your ancestor has been haunting me for MONTHS!” Danny tilted his head, looking at Hood’s chest. “They weren’t wrong, you really do need to see a ghost doctor. What the fuck is up with your ecto?”

“My what?” Red Hood said. “ are you the guy people around here have been talking about? The one who can talk to the dead?”

“More like the dead won’t stop talking to me.”

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Sapor

{The Apothecary Diaries / Reader}

《Coming back from your travels, you run into a familiar face...》

[2][3]

-

Blinking at him, you hold out the plate easily. "Here, this should put some meat on your bones." You glance back to the pot. The scent of spices and fried meat wafting through the area.

The male gulps, the aroma, while delicious, something was off.

You were a friend of the Apothecary Maomao, though not mentioned much. The few times he's ever heard of you; you were given the title of odd. Even SHE, had found you... Intriguing.

"Well?" You spare him a glance, keeping a steady rhythm when stirring the soup. 

The eunuch sweats as his eyes narrow to the food, squeamish.

Maomao looks away from him, trying to enjoy her meal in peace. She never thought the supposed cool head "Moon Prince", could be so picky. He tried the food at the market, so why now? Smirking at the flaw, Maomao thanks you in her thoughts.

"If you're that scared, it's alright." You state, peeking at Maomao, you note her joyous smile as she sips at the stew.

"But, I would have liked to share a meal with one of Xiaomao's friends."

You say with a soft grumble as the poor eunuch feels his heart race. Guilt clawing at his stomach as he lightly taps the wooden bowl.

Maomao deadpans at the tactic, while efficient (since it would often work with her), it was still bothersome to see.

The male grabs his spoon with a fidgeting hand. Dipping it lightly into the warm broth, he closes his eyes before taking a bite. Swallowing down the smooth flavorful liquid as his eyes open wide at the texture.

"...It's, delicious. Thank you." He smiled, stomach roaring at him for another bite.

"Oh? Good. I'm glad." You cease your stirring, going to the pan beside you. Lifting the lid as the sizzle of steam overtakes the room, you wave it down as you grab another plate.

"Here, 'had some leftover pork, thought' it'd be best to use it with company." You head over to the table, placing down the fried meat.

With a casual hand, you pat his shoulder kindly. Placing the items on the middle of the table for everyone to have.

Face flushed, he takes a eager bite of his meal. Unable to look you in the eye.

Maomao scrunches up her nose in distaste at the male. Stabbing into her portion of meat as she dismisses the idea... Choosing to ignore it and save the headache for another day.

-

"Huh... "Apprentice"...? You sure?" You ask the smaller human, chopping up some cabbage as she hands you another. "You told me that you would cease your traveling for the time being. Possibly an opportunity to learn of the culinary dishes in the palace as well."

"Hmm.." You knew there was more to it than that, but you didn't ask. Grabbing a few plates, you lay the grilled meat onto the porcelain.

"Alright, do I need a interview?"

"You passed the first step." She eyes your actions. "You have skill of what's edible and what isn't, most don't. You're care for what you serve and do it with caution." Maomao nodded as you huff mirthfully.

"You would have to ask your friend Jinshi, I doubt he'd take my word for my supposed, "skill." " You smile, handing over the plate. Maomao scoffs at the thought of HIM being a friend.

 "I will put a good word in." Xiaomao mumbled, "I.. Would not mine to teach you more, of course. And I'm sure I can learn from you as well."

Maomao is quiet, snacking on the fruit you had cut as she eyes your back.

"Found' some mushrooms on my traveling, I don't know if they're poisonous or not. Figured you'll have more fun figuring it out."

You reply as an excited gasp leaves Maomao as she goes to grab your bag. Eagerly digging through it until she found her prize. 

-

Slamming the table, you keep steady on the dough. Flour sprinkled here or there on your skin as you hum. 

"If you're gonna' keep staring, you might as well help." You don't look away from the task as the purple haired beauty blinks at the forward remark.

Playing it off with a polite smile, he emerges closer into the room with his servant behind him.

"I wanted to see to it personally on how your first week is here."

Slamming the dough harshly, the two men jump at the sound, They honestly thought the table would break in two.

"It's very hospital, thank you."

Jinshi walks a few steps closer, peering over your shoulder in quiet curiosity. A small laugh leaves you at the sight of him.

"Would you want to try?" You offer politely. 

Surprised, the young man raises his head at you. "Kneading it isn't always the fun part, but..."

You slam the dough down more softly. "You need patience, being careful with each step." 

*Slam!*

"Because without that, the dough can't rise to its needed structure."

Jinshi blinks, taken aback by your words...

He leaves your side for a moment, going over to the washing bucket. Cleaning his hands and drying them off before returning back beside you. Stary-eyed with a strange smile as Gaoshun pinches his forehead, exasperated at him.

You look at him, "So, you wanna' learn then?"

-

"NO!" You bemoan. "You can't just expect it rise without yeast!" You chide as you hand over the specific item. Albeit strained with your teachings, you helped the poor man with his goal of making bread.

He was a bit overconfident in the beginning though..

"Ah I see.. So like this?" His chest puffs happily, showing you a barely mixed batch of mix.

You watch him focus on his task, sweat on his brow as he flattens the dough. He was diligent, not one to give up so easily, you could give him that.

You tap his shoulder. "I'll take over from here," you reply as the man stops. Looking as if he wanted to retort, clearly, he wanted to finish up. "Yes, thank you. (L/N) for this impromptu cooking lesson." His servant steps forward, nodding to his Master with a frown,

Jinshi's lips curl into themselves, a hint of pout on his face. Yet he relents. "Thank you for the experience and wisdom. I shall take my leave." He flounces out of the room, his smile more than polite.

'That was hard to watch...' Maomao complains, watching you finish up. A proud look crossing your face, the girl is taken aback. Here she thought that look was reserved for her...

'Damn him...' 

Without much thought, you take the bread out of the oven, showing the final product.

"Hmm... It's not bad."

-

Notes:

I wanted to try writing a Senshi inspired reader without being blatant! Just a small idea I've had for awhile! I think Jinshi is a interesting character to write for! And moamao is utterly hilarious! Just felt like trying something new! 

- 

[If you liked it! Let me know! If yall wanna see more of my idea let me know! Thanks for reading! Reblogs, likes, comments are always appreciated!]

[writersbloxx]

Body Language

When someone is…

Nervous/Anxious

Face:

Darting eyes/avoiding eye contact

Rapid blinking

Tense jaw

Looking upwards when talking or fixing eyes on a more distant point

Furrowed (or raised) brows

Frowning

Blushing 

Micro-expressions- quick/short facial expressions like suddenly widening their eyes or a brief grimace

Voice:

Shaky or trembling

Higher pitch or thin

Breathy

Wavering

Raspy or slightly cracked

Hesitant

Speaking quickly or stuttering

Choppy (many pauses in speech)

Shorter, clipped words (staccato)

Gestures/Posture:

Tense, closed off stance

Hunched shoulders

Body is stiffened

Crossed arms

Fidgeting

Touching clothes

Cracking knuckles

Bouncing knee

Subtly covering their mouth

[regency-monster-love]

Think of all the Wet White Shirt scenes in period dramas. Now imagine that instead of a man in a wet white shirt, it's an Orc. The wet fabric is practically see-through now, making all the lines of his green muscles and his thick black body hair visible to you. Maybe you can even see that his nipples are pierced. It's scandalous, but you can't help but stare, nor can you help getting a bit aroused. And the orc smells it—suddenly he's not so embarrassed to be seen so improperly attired.

[the-modern-typewriter]

“You know,” the hero said, as they touched down on the villain’s rooftop. “People keep telling me I’m yours.”

“Do they.”

The villain seemed entirely unperturbed by both the statement and the intrusion; eyes possibly closed behind their shades, all artful laziness as they sprawled upon a deckchair by the pool. Their long limbs seemed to stretch for miles of unmarred skin. It was obscene. A brazen promise that the villain needed no armour, no defences, whatsoever.

“With varied looks of awe, jealousy and absolute terror,” the hero said.

A smirk curled the villain’s lips, then, just briefly.

“You wouldn’t happen,” the hero crossed the space between them, “to know anything about that, would you?”

The villain slid the shades up when the hero blocked the sun; looming over them, hands on hips. Their head tilted as they considered the hero. Their gaze simmered.

The hero leaned down slowly, bracing their arms on the back of their chair on either side of the villain’s shoulders. They raised their eyebrows to repeat the question.

“You know,” the villain said, “normally when you get in a mood to interrogate me it’s at least about less obvious things. Don’t tell me you’re getting slow on me now. You’re much too young and pretty to be taken round back and shot because you’re past working age.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Babe.”

It seemed impossible that one word, so fond and so mocking all at once, could contain quite so much chiding. The hero’s face burned.

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“And I’m sure the earth didn’t sit down and have a formal chat about orbiting with the sun either,” the villain said, “and the moon didn’t negotiate tide times with the ocean. C’est la vie. The facts of the universe remain.”

“I’m pretty sure we are not a fact of the universe.”

“And yet…” The villain hooked their fingers into the front of the hero’s shirt, tugging them closer, until their lips were inches apart. “Like a gravitational pull, here you are.”

The hero kissed them, then, savagely.

It was their first kiss, but the villain didn’t miss a beat. They slid their legs apart so that the hero could settle with one knee on the lounger braced between them. They tugged the hero’s shirt again like perfect choreography, the elegant execution of another mastermind plan, drawing the hero closer still. They claimed the hero’s mouth, in turn, despite the fact that it was so clearly not a claim that needed making.

“You are such a piece of work,” the hero muttered, breathless. The moved to bite the villain’s neck, obnoxiously higher than the line of their collar. “You can’t just go around telling people I belong to you. Screw you.”

The villain laughed. Their other hand slid around the hero’s back, sun-soaked palm smoothing down before their fingers squeezed the hero’s arse. Their bodies rocked together, pooling heat treacherous and molten in the pit of the hero’s stomach, making them gasp. The villain’s other hand stayed locked around the hero’s shirt, keeping them close.

“Babe,” the villain said again, all teeth and delighted, terribly delightful malice. “Do you really still think I had to? Do you actually think that’s a conversation I bothered to have?”

“…Ugh.”

The villain caught the hero’s chin, turning their head up again. They captured the hero’s mouth in another fierce kiss, and it did feel as inevitable as gravity, as inescapable as a riptide.

The hero was mortified to hear a small moan leave them.

“People are going to think I have terrible taste,” the hero said. “Oh my god.”

“You do have terrible taste,” the villain said. “We could have been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so stubborn.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Say that again when you manage to stop kissing me.”

The hero huffed. They forced themselves to stop, panting, and immediately missed the feel of the villain’s lips against them.

The villain laughed again, shaking their head. They slid their hand from the hero’s collar, up to their throat, fingers splaying over the hero’s racing pulse.

“I don’t mind you fighting it,” the villain said. They bit their lip, eyes dark. Their thumb caressed the hero’s jugular. “You know I like watching you fight. But you hate liars, babe, so at least do us both the courtesy of not being such an unconvincing hypocrite. You wouldn’t stand up anywhere near so well under my interrogation.”

The hero glared at them. They didn’t protest again, though. The villain wasn’t wrong after all. They tried not to think what that brand of interrogation might entail. They failed.

“I hate you,” the hero said, instead, and it didn’t feel like enough.

“Mm.” The villain was once more unperturbed by such a declaration. “You’re still blocking my sun. Your options are to either move, or I’m putting you beneath me. I need to get my back anyway.”

The obvious option was to move. To fly away the way they’d come and keep flying. The hero's heart pounded in their ears. Want drummed through their veins, like poison.

“Maybe I’m not yours,” the hero said. “Maybe you’re mine.”

"Oh, love.” In an instant, the villain had flipped them.

The hero’s breath hitched.

The villain, oh so leisurely, straddled the hero’s hips.

The hero imagined the villain’s hands on their wrists, pinning them down, taking what was wanted without the hero needing to ask or give up anything. Their mouth felt dry.

The villain looked at the hero like they knew, too well, all the ways in which defiance could be surrender. Mere bravado. A lie that the villain was only thinly indulging, and only because they were getting their way anyway.

The hero swallowed.

The villain smiled. They leaned down and pressed the gentlest of kisses to the hero’s lips – just enough to stoke the fire – and then settled. Cuddled. It would have been sweet on someone else, if it wasn’t so infuriating. If the hero didn’t feel like they were about to explode. Itching for a fight or – or –

“Of course I’m yours, babe,” the villain said, against their ear. “Do you really think that’s going to save you?”

No.

No, as the hero stared up at the gloriously clear blue skies, they really rather thought they were screwed.

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #9

"This portal will bring you back to your time safely."

The young teen, well kid in Dick's eyes said before them, pointing towards a green vortex. Dick felt relieved but also a twist in his gut. Time travel adventures always had their pro and cons. He was sure that they hadn't messed up anything, Damian wouldn't end up with a new hair cut this time, nor any of his brother. Hell Jason was even apparently cleaned out from some bad ectoplasm.

Yet...

They had spend some time here, fixing Ra's newest dumb idea to get Damian back on his side. They had bonded with this kid from the past. A young hero at the age of 14, barely older than Damian himself.

The kid had gotten tricked by Ra at first then they ended up in his time resolving the mess and bonding with this kid. Like really bonded with this kid. Like B starting to mentor the kid like he did all of them. Tim tinkering and engineering with him. Jason bantering and joking with the kid, even Damian bonded with him, thanks to one size changing ghost dog. Not to mention Dick bonded with the kid a lot too.

And it sucked in Dick's opinion. He glanced at his family, even if they all were in gear and wearing masks, he could see the small signs in the way they where holding themselves. The small indications, movements barely noticeable to anyone else.

Hell he could even see it in Bruce, the way the man tensed just a little bit. The small twitch of the man's lip, the little minuscule tilt. It was all there and only for the Batfamily to see.

Dick put on a smile, burying that twisted feeling in his gut.

Like they all did.

Like they all were forced to do.

He watched Tim make one last souvenir selfie. Well they all had one with the kid. Made at various points during their stay in this time. Even Damian sneaked making one using the excuse of wanting a selfie with that big green ghost dog.

"We will be on our way then kid." He tried sounding cheerful and by the smile the kid gave him, he was sure he hit the right tone of voice. "Don't be a stranger when we meet again."

He smiled still, knowing his family caught on to the fact that he said 'when' not 'if'.

Because it was obvious.

In their short time here, they all but officially, had adopted the kid into the family. Dick would joke that he kid would fit right in with them while they were here. Jason lamenting how Bruce had a type with kids. Bruce had had that minuscule uplift to his lip whenever they had joked around with the kid.

But again, this wasn't their time.

And that's why time travel sucked.

You make bonds, maybe even new family.

But they wouldn't be there when you are back in the time you belong.

But Dick was determined. When they stepped through that vortex, when he looked back at the kid waving to them. He knew what he had to do the moment they were back in their time.

He just hoped the kid would remember them, remember his words of not being a stranger.

[ink-ghoul]

hermit fanon swap - an art game!

Reblog this to let your followers know they can send art requests to your ask box

if you are a writer you can also reblog this and make little snippets about hermits and their new traits

Vex!Grian and Avian!Mumbo as fun examples

Artless version behind the cut: