#forgetting tags again

[isjasz]

[Ready for a new game?]

day 11 definitelynottober - heart in your fist & week 1 weeklyhermittober - beginnings

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IM SO READY LETSGO SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW LIFE SERIES💥💥💥💥💥💥

[hinamie]

happy gojoday to all who celebrate

[castledevil]

MATT MURDOCK / DAREDEVIL

Daredevil: Born Again (2025) 01x07 "Art for Art's Sake"

[average-damian-fan]

Drawing the batfam as chaotic images I find on Pinterest everyday for 30 days; Day 2

[gludgenbell]

Hi I'm still alive btw have some disciple ver. bingyuan

found little binghe in the woodshed with a ruined hand :(

[balimaria]

I just realized I can cross over my favorite characters and literally no one can stop me. This is way too much power.

(these captures are from gll99's GX fansub! you can find it free on their blog @/kaiowut99)

Part 2

[pencil-n-pen]

Princess ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Being an independent woman and a full time student is all fun and games until final’s season. Luckily, your not-quite academic rival Leon Kennedy is there to pick you up when you fall.

next

cw: Female pronouns and description used for reader but nothing detailed (no skin color, eye color, hair type, body type, etc.) This is basically just an x reader for my independent eldest daughters who do nothing but their absolute best all the time everyday and deep down want a hot guy with beefy arms to let them relax for a minute. So i guess expect the related issues that come with being an eldest daughter?

Tags/tropes: hurt/comfort, dom! leon if you squint, leon’s very touchy, leon being a gentleman!! probably ooc, i kinda struggled finding his voice :/

wc: 3.3k

a/n: wowee so i’m not rlly looking to be a full time author or anything but i could NOT get this idea out of my head and i figured i could give back to the tumblr fic community <3 here’s to everyone who wants hurt/comfort without smut, incest, or a needlessly specific reader! hope everyone’s recovering well from finals!

— ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

The first time it happened, it honestly, truly, was an accident. A mistake, if you will. You would never willingly fall asleep on a random guy at a party. That is all kinds of bad for a number of reasons.

However. There were some… extenuating circumstances.

Finals. They’re a make-or-break for the first semester. Mostly just a break. In the sense that you contemplated how upset your parents would be at you if you dropped out and if the subsequent disowning would be worth it.

You did finals the same way you did everything. You worked. Studied. Borderline obsessed over it. Romanticized it so you could push through when the other’s resolve started dropping. Stayed home. Your friends bemoaned your “no-fun attitude” but they’re crying over their grades and you’re not, so.

Well. Actually you’re definitely crying over your grades, almost every day in fact. But not because they’re bad. Just because you’re tired. Really tired. The kind of tired that makes people have public breakdowns. But you can’t afford to have a public breakdown because you have to succeed at college and you have to work in order to stay on top of your bills and be able to send some money home to your family and make sure you have time to call your parents and make time for your sister to call you and vent because you didn’t have a you at her age and you wish you did so you have to be there for her and your friends need you to be there for them not to mention planning for how you’re going to use your degree after you graduate and—

Most of the time you try not to think about it.

So finals were over. And everyone wanted to celebrate. And you did, you promise. You’re totally the party girl type. Totally. (Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll come true?)

You don’t hate parties. You like dressing up and going out. It’s fun! It’s just… not your idea of an unwind. Not after you nearly ran yourself into the ground for a month straight for the sake of academic validation. You’d prefer to sleep for 72 hours straight. And maybe watch a movie at home in the sweatshirt you cried over your textbooks in. Maybe over a glass of wine? You’re not really sure. Relaxing never really goes well for you. It’s either depression-bed-rotting or full productivity.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled to find yourself at this party. You’re not really sure how your friends convinced you.

But you’re here, in makeup and an outfit you like (you’re thankful this isn’t one of the ‘put on a tight dress and dance’ parties) and you just honestly want to go to bed. It’s a house party, so it’s not nearly as crazy as some of the other parties you’ve been (read: dragged) to, but still.

You’re on the couch, ignoring the smell of alcohol in the air and pretending the pounding baseline of the music coming from the speaker in the kitchen isn’t starting to give you a headache.

Ada Wong, a girl you’ve hesitantly dubbed your party friend, is sitting on your left, while the guy you can never quite tell what he is to her, is sitting on your right.

Leon Kennedy.

On a good day, Leon Kennedy is a smart, brooding, annoyingly capable guy who you share some of your classes with. On a bad day, he’s the bane of your existence. On a really bad day, you fantasize about all the ways you could kill him and turn the experience into a really good term paper.

It’s complicated. You’re smart. He’s smart. You tend to clash because neither of you like backing down from a challenge.

But right now, in this moment, at this party, the only thing you can think about is how fucking tired you are and how warm he is.

The music is so loud it drowns everything out in your brain. The few thoughts that make it through the overwhelm of sound are fuzzy and staticky. The cling and slip around in your head like syrup. The worst parts about parties are, funnily enough, working to cancel out the main reason you can’t fall asleep in your own bed at night: overthinking.

That and the fact that you haven’t sleep in forty-eight hours. An energy drink and an iced coffee count as a full nights sleep, right? You’re sure the heart palpitations are normal.

You manage to keep up with the steady flow of the group conversation, but as the night wears on, talking becomes harder and harder and just plain processing the words being said slowly turns into an impossible task. At some point, someone else squeezed onto the couch— you think it might be Chris? Ada did say he was coming late— so now you’re pressed against the one and only Leon Kennedy, and he’s radiating heat like a furnace.

Like you, he opted for a slightly more casual approach to the house party. Of course, he’s a guy, so his wardrobe was probably never that big, but still. It’s nice to see someone else in a sweatshirt and jeans.

You at least put on your favorite jeans! You call them your hot jeans, for self explanatory reasons. So what if you’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt? It’s cold!

You jolt in place, not realizing your eyes had slipped close and the conversation had continued on without you. Something prickles in the back of your head. An instinctual sort of thing.

Don’t fall asleep in public places.

Don’t fall asleep at someone’s house you don’t know.

You know the owner of the house, you think. You’ve been here once or twice. But you don’t know everyone at the party and where your friends have gone because they’re not in the group talking here and you should probably stand up soon, to wake yourself up, don’t let your friends down, don’t be that girl who falls asleep at the party, don’t—

You jolt again.

Wake up. You tell yourself. Leon’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye, but you ignore it.

It feels like a record skip. You’ll blink, and the conversation isn’t the same as when you first closed your eyes. The song isn’t the same. Were the lights always this bright?

“Whew!” Ada whistles from above. When did she stand up? “Someone’s got final’s exhaustion written all over their face!”

The group laughs and you do too, but it sounds different. Leon doesn’t. Why isn’t he laughing?

You jolt again. Harder this one. A full body shake. You wince as your knee knocks into Leon’s.

“Sorr—“

“Stop that.” He grumbles, and oh. A warm, solid hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Closed to that warm, stupidly comfortable side.

This is wrong. It’s Leon. It’s Leon. You can’t. And this is a party, and your friends are here—

“Stop being stupid,” You can feel his chest rumble from where your cheek is pressed flush against it, and when did that happen? He picks up your left arm and drapes it across his stomach, then picks up your right arm and wraps it around his lower pack. “Squeeze.”

You listen, and wow. Who has time to go to the gym this much and be an academic rival? You feel like you’re slacking. Maybe you need to make time to get some—

“I can hear you thinking,” He says, voice deep and rumbly. It’s honestly a miracle you can hear him over the music. It’s probably because your face is pressed against his chest. If you strain, you can feel the dull thud of his heart.

“You have a heart?” You say, half-delirious with exhaustion. It comes out more as a question than a statement

“Mhm,” He rumbles. “I am in possession of one. Great observation princess.”

You frown into his chest. “Why are you always so mean? You call me that stupid name. I’m not a princess.”

“I’m not mean. Whoever said princess was a mean nickname? You decided that on your own.”

“Then how come you call me that?”

“Because,” He huffs, repositioning to a more slouched position that’s more comfortable for your neck. The arm tightens around your waist.

It’s nice. It’s possessive. Protective. No one’s ever really done that for you before. Usually it’s you doing the protecting.

You don’t want to relax. You can’t. You can’t.

“Because,” He continues, “Princesses need to be taken care of. Especially smart, stubborn princesses who never pause for one second. Not even when they should.”

You should get up. Apologize for how weird you’re being. Have another coffee or energy drink. Join the party. Do something that isn’t this.

“Go to sleep,” He says, his voice like a warm blanket settling and slipping into your mind. “Nothing‘s going to happen to you while I’m here. No one is going to be mad at you for sleeping. And if they are, I’ll kick their ass. Go to sleep.”

It’s easy to give in after that.

You sag, boneless. Like a puppet with it’s strings cut. You inhale deeply, breathing in the deep, rich scent that’s distinctly Leon.

Just for a few minutes. Because Leon’s watching. He won’t let something happen to you. Just for a few minutes. You’ll get up soon. You will.

He tucks you closer to him. “Sleep.”

You’re out like a light.

—

“No way, she’s actually asleep?”

“Holy shit Leon, did you drug her?”

“I did not.”

“Well, thanks, for whatever weird magic-spell you cast. Seriously. We’re all starting to get worried about her. She doesn’t take any breaks and she doesn’t let anyone help. Last week a librarian found her asleep on the printer. Fully standing.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to start inviting you to our apartment if it means she’ll actually get some fucking sleep. It’s unsettling finding her in the same position as when I left like, six hours beforehand.”

“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

—

It’s horrific, running into him in the library.

What makes it more horrible is the fact that you’re ugly crying silently in the English textbook section, because it’s always empty. You’re ugly crying in the English textbook section of the university library and Leon Kennedy just walked into the aisle.

You sniff, lifting your head from your knees to stare up at him from the ground. He has a knack for finding you at your lowest, it would seem.

“We’ve got to stop seeing each other like this, princess.”

“Oh?” You sniff hard, running a hand across your face as if that will clear up your red rimmed, puffy eyes, the tear tracks on your face, or the flush on your nose. The action at least wipes away the snot. “I wasn’t aware you ever fell asleep on me at a party. Did I ever find you crying in the English textbook section of the library?”

He tilts his head. “Why the English textbook section? It’s one of your best subjects.”

“It’s the emptiest section. Plus, anyone looking for an English textbook at this hour isn’t going to bat an eye at me.” You wrap your arms around your legs and hug them to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“One of your roommates called Ada. They said you haven’t been home since this morning. They thought you might’ve been at hers, or with me.”

You snort. “It’s like they don’t even know me.”

He rolls his eyes. “I think they were hoping you’d be there. I think anyone who knows you knew you’d be here.”

“Crying in the English section?”

“In the library, dumbass.”

He stalks forward, leaning back against the bookshelf across from you and sliding his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Tell me. Is your pathological avoidance to asking for help conscious or not?”

You kick out, one shoed foot catching him in the shins. “Dick.”

He shrugs. “Just want to know. I can’t exactly gloat over scoring two points above you if you’re not in top form. I want a fair fight.”

“Is that what you're here for?” You ask suddenly, everything in your body going rigid. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” He says calmly. “I’m here because you’re being stupid again. You know what’s not healthy, or smart?”

He gestures to you. You, sitting on the floor, tears drying on your face. “This. Going out to parties to make your friends happy when you should be at home, sleeping. Studying for so long you end up looking like your boyfriend of eight years just broke up with you. Come on, princess. Where’s those brains you brag about?”

“They’re up here,” You tap your forehead. Against your will, your eyes burn, tears welling up, your face tightening. “And they’re tired.”

You drop your head into your hands, forgoing your silent crying of earlier in the place of open mouth sobbing. You can’t help it. You’re just so tired. So done with it all. With trying to keep up, with trying to make space, with trying to make time. With doing your best and it not being enough. You’re tired of being tired.

“Annnd there it is. Come here.”

He lowers himself to the floor next to you, tucking you close in a similar fashion as that night at the party.

“Come on, same thing as before. Hold onto me. Give yourself a minute.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, same way as last time, burying your face into his shoulder. Someone could see. Someone you know might see you crying and think—

He reaches a hand up and pulls the hood of your sweatshirt over your head.

“There. Now no one can see your face. Stop worrying. Just cry, princess.”

You sniffle. “I’m getting snot on your sweatshirt.”

“It’s had worse on it.”

“Gross.”

You can practically feel the eye roll. “Can you stop being dirty-minded and focus on something productive? Like crying? Or not crying, if that would make you feel better.”

You shift, so your head is lying against his shoulder instead of smashed into it like before.

“Why do you care if I feel better?”

Why do you care?

He shrugs against you.

“Told you,” He pushes your hood back a bit, tapping you on the forehead with his pointer finger. “My competition’s no fun if she’s not taking care of herself. How else is she gonna kick my ass?”

“I can take care of myself just fine. I don’t need you to swoop in here, Leon.”

“Mhm,” He says. “And i’m sure you do great at it, considering you’re still alive and kicking my ass at those stupid socratic seminars. Consider this… self-care. In the face mask, getting your nails done way.”

“Who taught you self care?”

“Ada. We have face mask nights.”

You jolt up. “Is she—“

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re not fucking, no she’s not going to be upset or care in any way about this. Calm down.”

You begrudgingly settle back against him.

“If anything,” He continues. “She’ll be excited to see you at more parties in the coming months.”

You frown. “I never said—“

“You only go to parties if your friends physically drag you or when you feel confident enough in your grades and the general state of your life. It’s really easy to tell which version of you shows up to the party. It’s the way you dress.”

“How so?”

He shifts slightly. Guilt twinges in your stomach as you realize how uncomfortable he must be.

“You wear your pick-me-up pants when you’re dragged there. The ones that make your ass look great.”

You sit up with a gasp. “My hot pants?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you call them?”

Your brain catches up to the rest of what he said. “Hold on. Did you just say—“

“I said what I said. I’m assuming there’s a reason you call them your hot pants.”

He smirks, and you flush.

“Moving onto more pressing matters,” He tilts his head at you. “You have two options this evening. Either I take you back to your place and you sleep in your own bed, or you come to my place and we binge watch the Oceans movies until you fall asleep.”

“How did you know I like the—“

“The icebreaker for club thing. You said they were your favorite movies.”

You look up at him. “You remembered?”

“You were wearing your hot jeans.”

“You’re the worst.”

He scans your face for a moment, eyes sparking with mirth and a little something less innocent. “Maybe.”

You sigh and lean back against him, exhaustion from all your crying hitting you at once.

“Nuh-uh, no sleeping here. You gotta pick one. My place or yours?”

You frown into his shoulder. “Ugh. Fine. Yours, but only because I wanna watch the Ocean’s movies. You better not have a disgusting frat house.”

“I do not. I do have popcorn and ice cream.”

“Ada bought those, didn’t she?”

“Nope,” He says, nudging you with his shoulder to stand. You clamber in gracefully to your feet, your head starting to pound. “Chris likes to have movie nights. It pays to be well stocked.”

Your cheeks warm as a large, steadying hand finds its way to the small of your back. “How many of my friends are you friends with?”

“I was friends with them first.”

“Ass.”

He chuckles incredulously. “For having friends?”

“Yes,” You say, letting him pull you to his side while you walk to your table where you left your stuff. Probably not the best idea to leave your entire net-worth unattended, but whatever. You were going through it. “How dare you.”

“Mmm. I see. My apologies, princess. I’ll tell Chris and Ada.”

“You get on that.”

You can’t help but smile as he helps you pack up your things, passing you items across the table and carefully zipping up your pencil case.

“Don’t touch my papers, I have a system.”

“Is the system absolute chaos?”

“Shut up.”

Once everything is packed up, you zip up your backpack, but before you can sling it on, Leon’s arm darts out and snags it right out from under you.

Your expression grows pinched. “I can carry my own bag, Leon.”

“I know you can.”

“Give me my bag.”

“No.”

You groan. “Why do you want to carry my bag?”

“See, there’s this thing called chivalry—“

“Oh my god, shut up. When have you and chivalry ever been synonymous?”

He shrugs. “Ever since I met the girl in the hot jeans who regularly kicks my ass academically.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmm,” He hums, wrapping an arm around your waist and walking you towards the doors to the library. “And you’re stubborn. Come on. Brad Pitt and George Clooney are waiting for you.”

You sigh dramatically, hiding a small smile in your hand.

Maybe you could get used to this.

masterlist | next part

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

[phibsies]

a few lego stuff i drew for the gram

[heliopeia]

yeah

[amberlynnmurdock]

Reciprocate the Feeling

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x F!Reader

Genre: angst and smut oops, 18+ content

Summary: You and Dex aren't technically allowed to be together, but that doesn't stop you from seeing each other–and having feelings. Where your strength is with words, Dex's is with touch.

Words: 2,221

It wasn’t allowed, what they were doing.

Well, it wasn’t allowed in the obvious sense. No one told them they couldn’t be doing this—it was one of those unspoken things that everyone knew wasn’t allowed. 

Did that stop them? 

It never does. 

She breathes him in like it’s her first breath of fresh air after holding it in for so long—gasping for air to fill her lungs—gasping for him to fill all her senses. Her heart was hammering in her ribcage from the adrenaline it still brought her—the adrenaline he made her feel. It only made her that much more attached to him, more than she already was. The physicalness of it all only made it stronger. Her feelings, that is. 

Dex nudged his nose against her cheek—they were that close—as a way to gently push her in the direction he wanted her to go. Dex, the trained FBI agent, skilled sniper, who has seen many a horrid view and has done even worse (all a part of the job) gently pushes her with the tip of his nose as a way to indicate he wants her in his bed. It wasn’t shocking to him that he was capable of doing something so gently. It was shocking that she obliged. She knows what he’s capable of—knows he’s got a sniper sitting in his closet, locked behind a safe—and yet, she obliges. And yet, she trusts him. He’s not sure how he managed to earn that from her. 

He’s never done anything to her that could make her think she shouldn’t trust him. In her eyes, he worked for the FBI. He was a good guy. He was the handsome sniper who kept to himself but somehow could only open up to her. He was just Dex in her eyes. Her eyes were now closed, lips attached to his. Dex guided her in that gentle way he knew she liked. His hand caressed the back of her neck, and his other used the small of her back to hold her steady. He walked her backward into his room. 

There was no need to shut the door behind him and lock it. It was just the two of them, safe in his apartment. The outside world didn’t matter when it was just them like this. There was no work, no FBI, no tasks, or any of the harsh, mundane things he dealt with on a daily basis. It was just her in front of him, in his hands. Her soft skin and soft hair were between his fingertips. Her lips were on his. Her hands were on his shoulders. He gently lays her down. The warmth of his lips is gone as he pulls back to look down at her. 

“Come back here,” she whispers with a mischievous smile, bedroom eyes looking up at him as he knelt on the bed between her legs. 

“Yes ma’am,” Dex says equally as quietly. He mirrors her movements as he mirrors the way she speaks to him sometimes. If she indicated she wanted to be touched, he touched her. If she spoke softly, he did too. It was his way of ensuring he wasn’t doing anything wrong to make her leave. He wouldn’t dare to do something to have her out of his grasp. His hold. 

He leans down again but this time snakes his arms underneath her, lifting her further up his bed so her head lays on his pillows. She was light as a feather in his arms. He pushes away her hair so her neck is exposed for him to taste. Dex traces the hollow of her neck with the tip of his nose before pressing gentle kisses on her skin. She turns her head more and closes her eyes. She places her fingers in his dirty blonde hair and scratches his head. Dex loves it when she does that. 

He meets her eyes again before leaning down and kissing her lips. He held her gaze for a moment, wondering what thoughts were happening in her head. He was absentmindedly playing with the hem of her leggings, timid to slide them off her legs. Dex was never as forward as she was when it came to getting intimate, but he made small, intimate gestures—small ways to ask for permission, without using words. 

“You can take them off,” she tells him softly. She found it sweet that he was acting this way. She’s never been with someone who touched her as gently as Dex did. 

Dex nods, ever so slightly, and wraps his thumbs on the inside of her leggings, slowly taking them off her one leg at a time. Her left ankle rested on his shoulder. He ran his hand up the length of her leg, caressing her skin. 

“I don’t let anyone touch me the way I let you, Dex,” she tells him in that same soft manner. Dex doesn’t know how to react. He just holds her gaze as he continues caressing her leg. Her other leg is between his parted knees. He turns his head to kiss her ankle. The more she opens up about her feelings, the more he wants to touch her. It was his way of reciprocating. Her feelings met with his physical touch. 

“Does someone else have access to you?” Dex asks her, his face darkening at the question. He was teasing, but how she worded her sentence before tempted him to ask anyway. Dex runs his fingers up and down her legs. 

Immediately, she shakes her head before she speaks. “No. Only you.”

Even though he knew the answer, Dex still let out a sigh of relief. Good—he was still the only one who had her attention. All of it. He had to keep it this way, whatever it took. 

Dex kisses her down the length of her leg, holding onto her waist with his other hand. He wants to have her completely exposed to him, but not yet. He gently takes her leg off his shoulder and leans over her again, forehead to forehead. She closes her eyes as he kisses her again. She presses her lips on his, feeling his skin as soft as leather, brushing against her cheeks. She didn’t know when it happened, but their hands were interlaced now, with Dex pinning them on either side of her head. 

He pulls back for a moment after sharing another deep kiss. Dex looks down at her, amused by how she looks so comfortable in his bed—comfortable to be beneath him. After everything he’s been through and all the secrets he’s kept locked up inside, he never thought someone like her could end up in his bed like this. And time and time again. She keeps coming back—he keeps letting her. 

“What are you thinking?” She asks him quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. Now it was her turn to be amused by him.

He looks away from her, feeling seen. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Dex,” she replies. She squeezes his hands. “Tell me.”

That’s the part he can’t do. The telling—the forming of words to accurately describe what he feels inside. She was so good at it. If he asked her the same thing right now, he’d bet she would say it without difficulty. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks her, mirroring the hint of a smile. 

“I’m thinking about… how much I like being with you,” she says easily. Dex knew it. “I’m thinking about how I feel connected to you.”

He’s equally terrified and amused at what she says. But he doesn’t let it show on his face. He looks serious suddenly, jaw clenched at the word connected. He wished he could reciprocate the feeling—the very foreign feeling of connection—that he was almost sure he felt with her. But wasn’t, at the same time. 

The only way he can respond is with physical touch. Not with words. 

He’s playing with the hem of her thin black underwear now. He slowly folds the top to expose where he wants to see but doesn’t completely pull it down. He’s asking for permission again. 

“Take it off,” she whispered. 

He wanted to, and he will soon, but he wanted to soak in this moment. He’s not sure how many more moments they’ll have like this together. He didn’t want to take it for granted and he especially didn’t want to rush anything. He knew that for sure. Because the most constant pattern in Dex’s life is he can never keep too good of a thing. Good things sometimes came but they never were for him to keep—for it to belong to him. It wasn’t in his cards.

He flips the top of her underwear again and covers the exposed skin. 

“I will,” Dex whispered. “But not until I take my time first.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. She feels his fingertips trace her ribcage as he pushes her shirt up. He unclips her bra from the back and slides it off her. Dex didn’t hesitate to take a nipple in his mouth, licking her sensitive bud until he felt it harden against his tongue. When it was, he moved to her other nipple and did the same thing. 

He pulled back and ran his hands down the length of her side, taking the image of her in and putting it to memory. He continues caressing her skin, not touching any intimate parts of her. She likes that he doesn’t. 

She can see his hardness through his jeans. She reaches to touch him through the soft fabric. It disrupts his caressing only for a moment as he closes his eyes and realizes how badly he needs to be touched—by her. He feels his cock harden even more the way she rubs her hand back and forth. The feeling is so intense he has to take her hand away as he catches his breath. 

He crashes his lips down to meet hers, taking her lips in a wet passionate kiss. She wraps her legs around his waist and brings him closer, feeling his hardness between her legs. Dex pushes against her and breathes deeply to control himself. He doesn’t want to take it there tonight. 

“Do you want to—“

“I don’t know,” he says. “Can I just keep touching you?” 

“Yes,” she says. “That’s fine with me.”

Dex slides her shirt off her, so she’s completely naked from the top. He kisses the skin between her breasts and holds his hands at her waist. He kisses down to her belly button. His fingers play with the top of her underwear again. This time, he’s ready. But he looks up at her once more for permission.

“Yes.”

Dex slowly pulls her underwear down her legs until they’re completely off. She lay there fully naked in front of him. And all he wants to do is take her in. Every curve, every movement her body made. He starts with his thumb at her clit, brushing feather-like strokes and watching her react to his touch. He knows she likes this. It was written all over her face. 

“Do you trust me?” Dex asks. 

“Yes,” she nods. He’s amused again at her honesty and ease at answering anything he asked. In response, Dex lowers his mouth to her wetness and kisses her heat. She presses her head further into his pillow and closes her eyes as Dex dances his tongue in her wet folds, slowly and taking his time. He traces his tongue agonizingly slow up her slit and stops to gently suck on her clit. He pulls back momentarily when he hears her moaning and kisses her inner thigh. He goes back to kissing her heat and takes hold of her hand as she finally orgasms against his mouth, her wetness coating his lips.

“Dex,” she breathes out as she reaches her climax, heavy breathing and body shaking, fingers tangled in his hair. Before she can even think, Dex already has her wrapped in his arms, holding her until her heart rate returns to a normal pace and she’s breathing steadily, no longer shaking. He holds her and kisses her shoulders as she nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck. Dex is staring outside his window, grateful the world is outside and they are safely tucked inside, away from it all. 

After a while, he feels her fall asleep in his arms. He’s running his fingers through her hair, unable to fall asleep. After what felt like an hour, he felt her stir in her sleep. She kisses his neck and pulls back to look up at him. 

“I should go,” she says sleepily. 

“You don’t have to,” Dex gently protests. “I want you to stay.” 

“Are you sure?” She asks, clearly unused to the invitation. 

“Yes,” Dex says. That was the thing he was most sure about. She sighed back into his embrace. He held her tighter than before. 

He just liked holding her. He liked having her this close. To take it that far would mean the completion of what they had and shared was coming soon. Just one more night of pining—of holding it in and letting actions speak for themselves. 

[velvetwyrme]

jazz and prowl beetles..... jeetle and peetle.....

jeetle and peetle ahdjdlslwnfbfmwbk,,,

also while im here: did you know that beetle wings fold up to fit under their shells (elytra)?

some beetles have really big wings in comparison to their body...

[mamawasatesttube]

the whole "jason rules crime alley and none of the other bats are allowed there!!1!" thing is so funny like. tim LITERALLY lives in the theater where bruce's parents died,

[tacc0yak1]

the new update was truly wholesome! :D

new update sketches ft. (my wife) lady dikke

[stormypip7]

the *other* part! i felt the need to draw this one too, considering the events of the latest episode...

(for @cherrifire 's dtiys! again)

/also, small thing; you can see where i messed up a bit on grian's face (that's just the downside of using biros to draw with)

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[remxedmoon]

(you worked yourself to death.)

yeah i wasn’t kidding when i said these would be coming soon. <- haha funny joke marshall. so!! remember when i said that this post would be coming out last weekend? guess whose tablet broke a few days after saying that! so sorry for the delay!! this is long overdue. here’s a link to the drive, as always! everything in this part of the update should be in the miscellaneous folder (outside of the menu icons, which are in the menu folder. wauaua).

unedited versions below the cut, plus some notes. fair warning 90% of this is just ui stuff lol

so! all of this was already done by the time i posted the enemies. the delay isn’t *entirely* because of the tablet issues, i just managed to get distracted by making: even more redraws! i’d say new update soon but after what happened last time i shouldn’t jinx myself. but! almost All of the art for the initial mod release is done!!!! exciting!!!!!!

please be nice to me (silly) this is my first time doing frame by frame animation in… give or take 5 years? i followed the original animations pretty closely, so they don’t look Awful but i am Aware of the jank. i’m not an animator!!! they’re Good Enough for my purposes.

hey did you know that the original teleport map is slightly off center. did you know that. that’s not the case for the redraw for the record but it did make things a little harder. despite that, i think you can tell i was having fun with the dormont part of the map. i would’ve put more detail into the house, but we never really get a more detailed look at it??? and i didn’t want to make assumptions. so that part’s just traced from the original 👍. anyways shoutout to the clocktower being Curved for whatever reason

outside of those, all of the added art is actually just spritework. i didn’t know this at first, but there’s a TON of copies of sprites from the icon set. Basically Everywhere. so those are added now! and should work properly! also added a few sprites that were Missing from my original batch. not going to put them all here, but a few Important ones (which i actually had to make new art for) are the rock paper scissors cheatsheet, the Larger versions of the craft signs (used in the calamité fight and. probably somewhere else idk), and the craft signs for the tutorial kid fight!

aaaand i think that’s it! for stuff from this update. yeah no there’s more coming buddy. my tablet already broke one time this week there’s no way it’s happening twice. i’m not working on portraits Just Yet (though the temptation has been There), but i’ve got the title screens, a few backgrounds, and the ending cgs done! along with a few other assorted cgs sketched out. because im out of my fucking mind. so, uh, see you soon!! enjoy!!