💖🤍Uravity Time🤍💖

Current W.I.P.

First time using gouache!!!

If you notice me reblogging

a repost

stolen art

false information

etc.

please let me know, you’re not rude or annoying and I actually do give a fuck and I will correct my mistake, thank you

#MatchaBlossom Ammirite

Joe: [being Joe]

Cherry: You better shut the fuck up before I look at you one day, feel warm and realize I've fallen in love with you.

Joe: [continues being Joe]

Cherry: I'm serious, quit it! Fuck!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GON!!!!

Omg I am legit wearing a hoodie and have my heated blanket on lol😄

okay i made another uquiz but this time making fun of ur aesthetic and i swear i’m done for the day

Photo Title: Resting Love

Subject: Stephanie Brown

Photographer: Timothy Drake

I forgot to post Day 3 of #timmay on here!!!

Sorry 😔

Prompt 3: Glow

Yea....

oh so cherry is also an IDIOT idiot

DAMN OKAY OW

Tim almost never sees Bruce Wayne. He sees Batman—the shadow in the cave, the cowl, the voice that barks orders land expected to be listened to. Bruce thinks he’s protecting him this way. If he denies a connection, if he refuses to name Tim as his, then maybe the world won’t carve into him the way it carved into Jason.

As if distance could soften a grave.

But the mimicry—that kills him.

Tim can do it perfectly: Jason’s loose-shouldered swagger, his posture, his walk, the way he’d laugh like Gotham's rare sunny days, the lopsided grin that made even Batman’s mouth twitch in response.

Tim practices in the mirror sometimes, just to see the ghost. Just to feel, for a second, like he isn’t standing in a dead boy’s shoes. But he was and now he was taking his face.

And when he gets it just right—when he throws out a joke in that tone, when he tilts his head that way, when he made Batman falter. Tim would melt.

For a heartbeat, the Batman was gone. In the place of the cold unchanging hero was Bruce Wayne, raw and wounded, looking at him like he’s something precious. Like he’s worth holding gently. Like he wasn't a soldier or a replacement. Like he was actually Jason. Tim sees it—the Bruce that Jason must have known, the one Dick still sometimes searches for in the rubble of their family. The one left to rot in the same warehouse Jason died in. The father smiled warmly as his kid, asked about their day, held them, praised them. God did Tim savor being held like he mattered.

Then Bruce would blink, and the moment shatters and Batman returns. Tim is let go and he has to fight himself not to hold on because he wanted this. Gods we wanted this. Ironic that that was particularly why Tim had originally started stalking the bats. Ironic that their closeness and family bond was something he was excluded from even when he was 'part of the family'.

He wonders, sometimes, if Bruce even realizes he’s doing it. If he knows how quickly he pulls away, how deliberately he rebuilds the walls between them the second he remembers who Tim is. Or rather, who he isn’t.

Tim doesn’t blame him.

He knows what he is.

A placeholder. A contingency. A shadow of a ghost.

And maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

Tim swallows the phantom warmth like a thief. He knows it isn’t for him. Warmth wasn't for Drakes. Mother used to tell him they werelrelated to ice dragons. That was why they weren't affectionate. Affection was too warm for the Drake Family.

Tim wanted to be warm...

Same lol🤣🤣🤣

ah yes my favourite trope