I love being queer, reblog if you too love being queer
Chapter 3: Family
If I had ever been told I would have a huge room in one of the most luxurious mansions in the country, I would have thought it was silly.
But there I was, waking up at 8 a.m., cursing at the sounds of a dog trying to get into the room. But at the same time, I thanked him, I didn't want to continue with that nightmare. Sleepy, I got out of bed, dressed only in a sweatshirt and sleeping pants.
I looked in the mirror, noticing the drool stain on my face, my hair in knots, and the purple circles under my eyes. I was a mess.
I looked down from my tangle of hair to my eyes. My father's eyes. Green, with those golden sparkles. I looked away, grabbing a lock of my hair, thinking about cutting it again.
Although my hair wasn't as pretty, it reminded me of my mother, when she braided and brushed it. She always told me I had her hair. Straight, black and, back then, long, now it only reached my shoulders.
The noises of the dog made me remember why I had gotten out of bed. I quickly brushed my hair and slipped on some shoes. Jumping over the things I had left lying on the floor, I headed for the door.
"What do you want Titus?" I asked, looking down to get a better look at the black dog sitting right outside his door. "I'm not Damian or Tim. If you want to bother someone, bother your owner or his brother." I squatted down so I could pet the beautiful canine.
"Good morning Jane." Said Tim, with a nervous smile on his face, coming a little closer to my door. "Alfred sent me, breakfast is ready." he extended his hand to help me up, but I didn't take it.
"Hello, Jackson." I greeted, without looking at him. That wasn't the right time or place to talk about our problems, so I just said hello to my father's brother. And apparently, the dog noticed the tension of the moment because he turned to look at me and then tilted his head sideways. "I wanted to go out to the garden before breakfast," I said, starting to walk towards the huge stairs of the mansion.
"Come on, don't deny Alfred the special breakfast he made for you." Said Tim, looking at me as he walked beside me, trying to get me to look him in the face.
"I'm only going because I'm hungry and I didn't eat well last night." was all I answered, ending the conversation.
When we got to the dining room, Titus sat near the door to the kitchen, waiting for a bite to eat. Almost everyone was already seated along with the table. Richard, Olive, Rai, Jason, and Bruce. With half-eaten food on their plates.
I walked into the kitchen so I could wash my hands, there I met my favorite person.
"Good morning," Assana said, coming to my side with a plate of chopped fruit. "Did you fall asleep?" she asked, picking up a piece of strawberry with her fork and bringing it to my mouth.
"I had not slept well for a long time, I needed to rest." I lied and then turned to face her, taking the piece of fruit between my teeth.
I dried my hands and together we headed back to the dining room.
"Good morning Master Tim, Miss Jane, Miss Assana." Alfred greeted kindly as he poured more coffee for Bruce. "Shall I serve you breakfast?"
"If you don't mind." As Tim sat down between Olive and Damian, I jumped up to greet my favorite uncle.
"Finally, the family is back together again," Dick commented, releasing me from that big hug. "I want the four of you to join me on patrol one day," he said, pointing to his daughter, Tim, and me, oh and the little devil.
"You didn't say hello last night," Bruce said, turning to Jason and me, and then taking another sip of his coffee.
"I'm sorry, we were late and didn't want to bother you," I commented, then sat down between Assana and my father.
"Did you get up late too?" Olive asked, laughing a little when she saw Damian's sleepy face, who was helping Alfred with breakfast.
"I want to sleep," he said, "I hate Mondays.
"It's Saturday," said Jason taking the coffee from his older brother.
"I hate you," said Damian and Dick in unison.
A small argument between brothers broke out that morning, being quickly settled after Alfred served them all their respective breakfasts. As we ate, my cousin and I were assailed by several questions posed by the four Wayne brothers.
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Life and Death
OFFICIAL BOOP POST you are more than welcome to boop me as much as you want and I will boop back. RB if you want some boops!!
Chapter 18: News in the Woods
The Justice League is an "organization" of "global" heroes and is non-governmental. The government should not tell them when and how to act. These heroes claim to be the ones who bring peace to the world. The ones who end wars and the ones who are going to end crime.
It supports other young hero groups like the Teen Titans or the former Warriors Society. Sure, there are many more but the names were so irrelevant that they faded from my memory.
And at the time, that was the topic of conversation in the living room of the Todd family apartment. The news was misreporting some events that had occurred months before.
"What I don't understand is why Superman hasn't come out to clear all this up, isn't he the public face of the league," my brother said and then stole a handful of popcorn from me.
"If big blue comes out to show his face, now they will say that he is on the side of the bad guys because he is also an extraterrestrial. The one who should come out should be someone from the earth. But I don't think that would be a good thing," he said. There was a certain tension in Jason when he spoke of the Man of Steel, but who wasn't afraid of Superman?
"So, you're saying that the most normal among us would have to come out. What would it be...Batman?" I commented, tossing the bowl to my brother so he could finish his snack.
"You're right, it's weird," Jason agreed, starting to search for the remote to change the channel.
"These acclaimed heroes ruin the lives of so many and then act like saints, asking the government to pay them with our taxes. Don't you think it's suspicious that an alien spacecraft has arrived on our planet out of nowhere?" The commentator on TV was going to make me lose my appetite. Can you hate a person you only know through TV?
I enjoyed being with my father and brother, without any worries, and just talking about whatever was on TV. We rarely got to do that, as we always finished patrol late or someone was absent. Those moments were more important to me than the names of those other hero groups.
"There is an organization that is in charge of overseeing travel to other planets in this universe, isn't there?" asked my father, who was sitting in one of the individual armchairs. My brother and I just looked at each other, trying to read each other's minds or talk telepathically (which we wanted to, but couldn't do), and then just shook our heads.
"It's supposed to be a job that belonged to the previous Shade, don't ask me, I don't get involved in those matters anymore," I answered, lying down on the couch.
"You could ask a Lantern, those guys spend more time in space than on a fixed planet. Ask anyone but the Reds, we should never have trusted those guys," James said, then popped another handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"You'd better go to sleep, Bruce is going to scold me if you don't go to school." Jason and Bruce's relationship was never the best, at least not since my father came back to life. They tried to get along, but with the messes that James and I were bringing it wasn't very easy to make that relationship more bearable.
Olive, Jared, and basically the vast majority of my fellow Warriors Society heroes were in the same school year, but at different schools. And let's just say that being surrounded by rich kids from the cradle was not my thing. Although according to some "friends" of mine, they didn't understand why.
My brother and I got up, took the plates and glasses we used to leave in the kitchen. We each went to our rooms.
I still hadn't forgotten that I had to talk to someone important. The gas idea was very similar to something that had been used in the past. Although honestly the last thing I wanted to do was talk to the person who had helped us back then, but when the Joker's venom problem came up, he was the first person I thought of.
I picked up my phone, wandering through the contacts I didn't even know I had. I clicked on my target's name and the call icon.
"For the last time. I won't help you with your crush Jerni... Oh excuse me, your highness, I didn't read the name right and I thought it was...- The boy on the other side of the line started to say.
"Don't call me your highness, I left the title a long time ago," I interrupted before he said something inappropriate.
"Yes, I remember."
"He spoke to you to ask you a favor, not to discuss politics," I interrupted again, "We will talk about all this on another occasion and with fewer worries," as I knew he would soon ask, I decided to answer him first. I began to walk around my room, picking up the things I had left lying around in the afternoon.
"You know I'm always available. Work is work. Although if you need my help, it must be something important" That guy never shut up?
"The Joker and the Scarecrow, I need something to neutralize the gases they use," I informed him quickly before he brought up another topic of conversation.
"If it is for your team, let me tell you that you already had something like that. I'll send you the formula in the morning, ask someone to read it and do it," he replied.
"Okay, I need it as soon as possible." I was hoping at least one of the guys knew chemistry."
"Of course, boss." He said, laughing at the end, "I don't know what time it is in your city, but good evening.
"It's nighttime, but it's the intentions that count," I laughed too. I liked those moments when I could laugh with the people I considered friends.
"Andrew out," was the last thing I heard.
I got up from my bed where I had sat after throwing my clothes from the floor into the laundry can. I opened my closet to put my suit in.
I stood for a while admiring my suit, holding the fabric between my hands. Lightweight, sturdy, with small details in some areas simulating scales. A three-piece suit, with optional long gloves, when I didn't wear the trench coat and a pair of high-heeled boots, because, according to the person who helped me design it, I needed to look taller.
The blouse was a dark gray, reaching to black, sleeveless, and with a high collar. The pants were the same color, they were tight. The trench coat was black on the outside and wine red on the inside, with lots of little pockets. The fingerless gloves went past my elbows.
The visor was the best part. Although at first glance it was a simple piece of plastic that helped my blindness (myopia) it was actually more than that. It was connected to one of the most advanced computers in the entire universe.
When I finished admiring my suit, I folded it up and put it in one of the locked drawers where I kept other things important to me, and went back to bed. The next day would be a heavy day, and I knew it.
This is the cutest thing I've seen today
Shut up Dan mora drawing Tim covers but they’re homages to Dick and Jason’s debut as robin respectively is so cute☹️
jason: bruce, mataste al joker, ¿verdad?
bruce: ¿cómo te explico?
jason, haciendo su plan de secuestrar al payaso: mamaste
normalmente no hago posts en español pero se me acaba de ocurrir un headcanon de jason: (si hablara español) sería el wey que le diría 'mamaste' a cualquier delincuente que lo hiciera enojar jsjsj
like,
jason: podemos hacer esto por las buenas o por las malas, dime quién es tu informante
delincuente: *escupe en el zapato de jason*
jason:
delincuente:
jason: mamaste *procede a dispararle en la pierna*
no necesariamente se lo dice solo a delincuentes y villanos, la usa en todas partes porque es su maldición fav, le gusta como suele intimidar a las personas:
jason: dick, ¿sabes dónde está mi barra de granola que guardé en la mañana?
dick: ¿la que estaba en la barra de la cocina? ¿una con arándanos??
jason: si.
dick, sudando frío: a
jason: mamaste
dick: *huye por su vida*
La creatividad me pesa.
Despiertan tantas ideas que no puedo plasmar.
Y plasmo ideas a medias que nunca llegaron a mas.
Me siento pesada.
Con tantas ideas y tan poca habilidad.
Necesito tiempo y organización.
En ocasiones siento que tengo todo el tiempo del mundo
Pero otras siento que todo se me viene encima
Tengo tanto en la cabeza y tan poco tiempo.
Quiero hacerlo todo y a la vez no puedo hacer nada
Incluso si la inspiración vaga por mi mente no puedo expresarlo
Las dudas asaltan mi cabeza.
Se responden solas o simplemente mueren ahí.
La inspiración me llega diario.
Y a todas horas.
Marcel/Compass *on his first week on the team*: why is there blood everywhere???
Cheis: i may have aggressively poked someone with a knife
Marcel: yoU STABBED SOMEONE
Cheis: no no no, i aggressively poked them with a knife
Solo te vi una vez
Solo te vi una vez, y ya soñaba contigo
Solo me hablaste una vez y ya imaginaba tu mano contra la mía.
Solo me saludaste una vez y en mi mente vagaba todos los temas de los que podríamos hablar
Y mientras más me hablabas más sentía mi mente vagar por esos escenarios.
Y luego la ansiedad atacaba.
¿Y si solo me hablaste por culpa?
¿Y si solo me saludaste porque al final necesitabas algo?
¿Y si todo esto es solo tu forma de sacar algo de mi?
Tu forma de manipularme hasta que este a tus pies y haga todo lo me digas que haga.
Tu forma de demostrar que siempre dejaré que me pisoteen.
Y luego tu mensaje llega y todo parece dejar de existir.
La ansiedad, los escenarios imaginarios.
¿Me estaré enamorando de ti o de la ilusión?
Aquella que me gusta porque me hace sentir bien.
Me hace sentir que finalmente valgo algo.
Que no soy solo una más en el sistema.
Y luego me pides que te ayude en algo.
Me pides que hagamos la tarea juntos y no me niego porque tener finalmente la compañía de otra persona me hace sentir bien
Pero el mismo pensamiento vuelve a mi mente.
Imagino nuevamente el dolor del rechazo.
¿Como será mi vida en cuanto me dejes de hablar?
Y si escuchas esos rumores de la gente, ¿Qué pensaras de mi?
¿Dejaras de hablarme o fingirás nunca haberlos escuchado?
¿O los aceptaras y me dirás a la cara lo mierda de persona que soy? Y te iras y yo estaré igual que al principio, sola.
Fría en mis profesiones y en mis amistades
Modificando un poco la famosa línea de Hamilton
Y al igual que el, fingiendo darle importancia mínima a las relaciones personales.
Tratando de mantenerme libre de cualquier atadura en particular.
Y mantener mi felicidad independiente de los caprichos de otros.
Si llegas a irte estaré nuevamente preguntándome cuando es que llegara una persona que verdaderamente se quede conmigo.
Me dirán manipuladora al final de este texto.
Pero créeme que la media noche es cuando más sincera me vuelvo
Porque mi mente es tan débil que no descansa.
Y pienso en tanto que no duermo tranquila.
Y espero que después de todo esto, si alguna vez descubres quien escribió esto, y que era para ti, no te vayas.
Quédate y asegurarme que nunca te vas a ir.
Solo hazme creer por unos segundos que he dejado de estar sola.
Y déjame verte una vez mas
Pensamientos de media noche
"Qué belleza guardan aquellos que no encuentran su lugar entre tanta gente; no es soledad, es un privilegio no encajar". https://www.instagram.com/p/CYb6sTPLv2z/?utm_medium=tumblr
she/they 20 years. This blog is a mess of a lot of things. Roch's personal Blog
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