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"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all the power we need inside ourselves already."

J.K. Rowling (via cywscross)

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cywscross:

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esamastation:

Look at my plot bunny.

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LUNA
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thesassycat:

asammyg:

HOW DO YOU DO THIS?! I WANT TO DO THIS. 

It’s literally showing you how to do it

(Source: vintae, via littletechiebird)

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dressrosas:

From now on… no matter what

(via imperialmint)

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(Source: maxact)

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sirenaloreley:

Oh, you ‘dirty’ boys, you… ♥
Chocolate-DN by key0000000

sirenaloreley:

Oh, you ‘dirty’ boys, you… ♥

Chocolate-DN by key0000000

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yozoraarashi said: Dick/Tim/Jason - 19. "Shit, are you bleeding?!"

rahndom:

Here you go my dearest.

I hope you like this waff fest n_ñu
————

Tim sighed as he parked his bike inside his base, his fingers gripping the handles tightly as he tried to keep himself upright and failing miserably in the process.

It was his birthday and for some ridiculous twist of fate Clayface had chosen that incredibly impossible particular day to parade around town destroying everything in his path - it was Clayface’s birthday too, what were the odds? - in an effort to share his bohemian, artistic and quite teatrical rage with the world.

Fuck his life.

Also, because life and fate and everything in between hated him with a passion, because the whole world had tried to make sure today was the most miserable day for Tim in like… ever.

Kon and Bart had called him at the stroke of midnight, all cheer and loud well-wishes and all the happiness he had come to associate with his best friends, but the moment he had asked whether they could meet in San Fran for a proper celebration, the two had gone unnaturally quiet and quickly spluttered some excuses about patrol and homework and Ma’s applepies before hanging up.

So yeah, he was spending his birthday alone, hurt and most likely scolded out of his mind if Bruce ever heard about it.

His life sucked.

With a hiss of pain he allowed himself to rest on the elevator’s stainless steel wall, his fingers idly pressing the password that would lead him to the main floor and then closing his eyes as he started to move.

Slowly counting the floors as the light of each one flashed before his eyelids.

When he finally reached the main floor and wondered how he was going to walk towards the infirmary without falling over, the door of the elevator opened and he was greeted with a shower of brightly colored confetti and an enthusiastic yell of “HAPPY BIRTHD-!” that died as he struggled to stand upright.

"Timmy?" Dick asked, his eyes wide and his fist raised to throw another handful of paper at him.

"Shit! Are you bleeding?" Jason asked at the same time, his little party horn halfway to his mouth making his voice sound squeaky - and Tim would have laughed, he is sure, if his ribs weren’t threatening to pierce his lungs if he did any sudden movements.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, his voice a soft wheeze.

Dick and Jason stared at eachother for a second before turning to him once more.

"Umm, Timmy, it’s your birthday," Dick said, his tone growing worried. "You are my boyfriend."

"And my loverboy,"Jason added sheepishly. "And we had to threaten the clone and your speedster within an inch of their lives so we could have you to ourselves tonight,"

Tim nodded, feeling a warm burst of relief at the thought Kon and Bart were not actually ditching him - and then worry because, seriously? Who threatens his friends to spend some alone time with him?? - and also, these two had slipped into his base to celebrate with him.

It was kind of cute.

"I’m not really in the mood for a party," he said simply, his vision swimming until black spots were dancing before his eyes.

He heard Dick yelp and Jason curse and then their warm hands - hands that were usually so heated, so pasionate, so terribly irresistible -gently grasp his arms and pull him towards the medbay, Dick whispering sweet nothings in his ear while Jason cursed a storm over his toughtlessness.

And yeah, this was definitely not how he had expected to spend his birthday but… really, who was he to complain?

He had to disfunctional lovers - who were trying their best to share and be as companiable as possible for his sake - and the two fo them cared in their own way for him.

And even if he would not spend the day dancing and joking around with his friends, cuddling in bed with one lover at each side as they fussed and worried over him was not something he would sneer at.

Tim smiled.

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cywscross:

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Tags: fantasy art