#i won’t believe you

[moonysreid]

ALCINA HAS STRETCH MARKS. FACT

my roman empire

[whalehouse1]

Dick is invited to do an interview for something related to Bruce. Him and Kori agreed that he could announce it to the reporters since they have told their friends and family.

Interviewer: So, Mr. Grayson, how are you feeling after mentioning you are married and breaking many a fans’ hopes?

Dick: I’m doing well since I can proudly announce that to add to my being NTR material, in 7 months I will also officially be a DILF.

-Bruce turns off the tv-

Bruce: Who told him about NTR?

Steph: In my defense I did not know he’d use it to sell himself or announce he was a soon to be DILF.

Tim: Wasn’t the interview about expanding Wayne Enterprise’s auto manufacturing plant into Eastern Europe?

[grampsoninspace]

siren.

[inspired by Hozier’s brilliance and “De Selby (Part 1)”]

pure bliss floods my veins despite the murky waters starting to swallow me whole; the notes still ring in my ears as my ribcage starts to fill, but dark eyes peer through the crystalline waters at my descent.

a warm hand grips my wrist, nearly yanking my arm from its socket, hauling me from the sweet release of cold nothingness awaiting far below. fear suddenly breaks through the haze as my lungs remember what they need.

upon my escape, my body purges the offensive liquid from my chest, making room for oxygen in an attempt to fight for the life i was ready to release. it isn’t pretty, the struggle for survival, especially against my better judgment. spit and seawater and mucus run freely down my soaked body as i remember where i am; my addled brain attempts to take in an illustration come to life so real it feels as if i’m the fairytale.

flowing waves of hair the color of an ancient tree you lean upon to rest and read frames a fair and handsome face, with freckles scattered like stars over the vast expanse of skin exposed to the world and my vision. long, dark lashes flutter over then around wide eyes that tell of endless depths seen and unspoken for too many years.

a hungry smile twists a pair of rosy, supple lips — white teeth sharper than shattered glass slipping out between; but the mirth fades as those ageless eyes meet mine, a flush of color blooming over cheekbones high and proud, nearly drawing my glance away from that impossible stare.

almost.

that narrow, masculine jaw is set now, and a swallow bobs down a throat that creates a symphony within a sigh; the hand that isn’t keeping me above the water reaches out to touch my face.

“i am supposed to kill you now.”

his voice is sin and salvation, lighting me on fire and cleansing me of everything else i’ve ever known. my mouth falls open in a gasp so involuntary i don’t realize i’ve made a sound until he chases it with his lips covering mine.

he draws more sounds from me then — so much different than any i’ve ever made — pulling my trembling body tightly to his, his bare chest heaving against mine: sharing breath and warmth and a simmering passion i do not comprehend. he devours my sea-stained tongue and swallows down the lilting notes of my voice that i find i cannot help but surrender.

i am not freed from his deadly, life-giving kiss until my damp fingers curl into his hair and pull — gently, but firmly, drawing a sigh from him that i feel in my marrow.

“i do not understand,” he murmurs, holding me to him still, pushing wet strands of hair back from my eyes. i’m crying, and my arms slip around his neck as i begin to shake in earnest now. there is a steady pulse thrumming under his perfect skin, and i wonder what beats within the cage of his ribs if not a pounding heart like mine…

“you taste sweeter than any flesh i’ve consumed before, but i do not wish to rend it…” he presses his forehead to mine; his brow is wrinkled, his breath fanning over my face.

“and your voice… so human, but so…” he bends down to sink those deadly teeth into the soft slope where my neck and shoulder meet, and i draw in a breath to brace myself before he can pierce my skin. instead, he inhales, his nose tracing a line up to just below my ear. i whimper — a pathetic, begging sound — and he groans, his tongue dragging over my throat as i tilt my head back for him.

“what must i do to keep hearing such music?” he asks with his lips pressed against my collarbone, his smile grazing the spot and pulling a nervous whine from the pit of my stomach, my breath stuttering as his hands begin to roam.

“are you an angel?” he teases, with his words and mouth and fingertips, while his hands are tearing away my wet clothes and those eyes are cataloging every exposed inch of me. “we do not often see those down here.”

i force my eyes to meet his gaze and he freezes as though time has stopped dead, one hand on my neck, the other resting on my hip. i lay my palms on his chest and he looks suddenly unsure, as if i am the hunter here — unarmed though i may be, disarmed as i somehow seem to make him. i stroke his skin with my fingertips and his grip tightens around me, his thumb pressing to my windpipe as i swallow hard against it.

“i am not,” i admit, and his eyes flutter closed, like he is bracing himself against the onslaught of my voice slicing through the taut silence between us. his tongue traces his bottom lip as if my words are a tangible thing he can taste upon the wind, his thumb stroking my throat like he can coax more of them from me at will.

“i do not know what you are,” he admits quietly, “or what this feeling is. you are meant to be a feast for me, but i feel no hunger here, no thirst for your blood, no need to…”

“it is strange,” i agree, “but it isn’t wrong.”

“it is wrong, little angel of darkness,” he argues, a wry smirk warming his face, his hand kneading its way over from my hip to slip down between my thighs. “you are human; i am siren. for all of time your kind has sustained mine by seeking out our song and finding death awaiting.”

“i would die right here and now if you wished it,” i shrug. “but i would give you anything you wanted if you let me stay with you instead.”

he groans and buries his face against my neck, stroking me with long and nimble fingers, stealing my ability to speak anything but nonsense, a vast vocabulary traded for the soundscape of aching desperation then impossible release.

“i am supposed to kill you now…” he breathes against my skin, his head resting on my chest as i try to remember my own name. it seems inconsequential, somehow. i am lying on my back on the same rocks that ruined my ship, being willingly and gladly torn apart by the same creature who lured me here to die.

peace floods me as oxygen fills my lungs and my body continues to warm under his exploration. he is kissing me again, carefully this time, keeping his sharp points away from my soft give. my hands are in his hair, content to let him do whatever he decides is best.

“it is your choice,” i say against his lips as he finally moves again, his eyes searching mine as his fingertips tease and coax and keep me in a haze of bliss i can’t bear to leave.

“it is inevitable,” he says, peering up from between my legs this time— but his expression is unsure, his eyes unfocused. “i cannot keep you. not alive…not below.”

“do what you must,” i whisper, ecstasy flooding my brain for another drawn-out peak — his teeth finally breaking skin as his fingers curl and press inside of me. i cry out, pleasure and pain mixing in a confusing rush as he removes his mouth from me. blood flows from the tear he made, but i arch my back as he forces me to come again around his fingers and on his tongue.

i’m gasping for air, unable to focus on any one sensation, the raw burn of torn flesh blending with the beautiful ache of oblivion — and he’s creating it all, a work of art meant for no one but him, selfish and beautiful and cruel.

“no,” he rasps, and his tongue suddenly drags over the cut splitting my thigh; i’m screaming and he’s torturing me and it is clear now how this will end.

but at once the burning subsides, a cool breeze washing away the pain, and i sit up to watch my leg healing with impossible speed. i lock eyes with him, and he’s panting, both of us dragging our gaze away to watch as the wound repairs itself. his thumb is absently stroking circles over the skin above my knee, his other hand buried in his own hair.

“you saved me,” i whisper, holding his face in my hands, gazing upon his impossible beauty with fear and awe.

“no, little angel,” he sighs, his eyes pained as they meet mine, bloodshot and tearful. “i damned myself.”

his face becomes gaunt and his breathing is shallow, his skin graying and drying out beneath my hands.

“what did you do?” i cry, “and why did you do it?”

“i gave you my blood,” he huffs a soft laugh. “it was the only way to repair the damage i had done…but now i will die… do not look so stricken, my angel, this is not in vain. for the first time, i have chosen for myself.”

he moves his head just enough to kiss my palm before he withers quickly to sand slipping between my fingers and sticking to my wet skin. everywhere he lands, i am sparkling and warm. i weep for what was and for what could never be, a song rising in my throat — soft and alluring, like the swishing of the waves… like a lover’s kiss.

i feel the shift before i know what he’s truly done, the sea calling me to her depths to demand answers for her missing son. and i obey her command, unable to deny her anything, slipping beneath her surface; the scales of my tail shimmering under the waves in the last rays of the day.

[landoncrris]

pls i’ve never wanted to kiss his face more than now i hate him

[arcanistsdelight]

I know only one mutual on here has actually seen a picture of me in my new cute dress, and I will not be posting pictures, but I need everyone to tell me that I’m very pretty in it.

Because no one has and I am sad.

Okay. Thank you, that is all.

[will-byers-needs-a-hug]

I’m sorry but if Stancy is endgame I will stop existing, THEY WILL LITERALLY END IN DIVORCE AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME IM WRONG

[matimatti]

Would Binghe look good with a moustache?

Inspired by bobby_speeds tweet

[spyderschaos]

one of my favorite things about hiccup is that some of the stuff he has/makes is toothless themed/has toothless on it bc like he's so real for that

Shield

Dragon eye

All of these

[just-your-average-cryptid]

most of us have heard of the red car game. you’re on a road trip, you’re bored, you start looking for red cars to do something.

and then they’re everywhere. you notice them nearly every few minutes.

there aren’t suddenly more red cars now, of course. you were seeing them already, but you weren’t noticing. you weren’t looking.

I am noticing things.

there is a plant I notice everywhere now, a small bushy plant in suburbs, along streets, by shops on the highways. dwarf umbrella bush is what the internet tells me when I look for it’s name. I did this because I wanted to know why,

every time I ever saw it, every place,

it was always dying. always the leaves turning yellow, the branches small and scraggly. inside out - nitrogen deficiency. their soil drained.

I am noticing how many of these landscaping plants are yellowing, how small and sickly they look in just a few years. I am noticing how often the grass outside the house is replaced when it once again turns brown and dry, how the type never changes and the cycle starts again. I am noticing how the unmowed, unkempt spaces on lakesides and roadsides look more alive than this. how the preserve I grew up next to was miles of “messy” unmanicured nature and the ground was covered in leaves instead of grass and there was life.

I am noticing the birds that come by the lake. there was a flash of blue wings and red chest - eastern bluebird, male, relatively common. I had never seen one before. there is a family of ducks that appear every spring; i cannot say if it’s successive generations or different ducks, but I can always look forward to ducklings. there are little brown birds with white heads whose names I do not know - are they some kind of piper? why don’t I already know?

why is it so hard to learn about my native plants (accurately, that is)? why are so many gardening sites littered with people who think a plants value is based on how pretty or useful it is to them, who think a tree shedding leaves is “messy”?

why is knowing about the world we live in so… odd? why is it a hobby and not vital knowledge? I learned about polar equations. I taught myself about mycorrhizal networks and species of insects.

(did you know there are shiny green bees? a special species of wasp pollinating figs? that white flowers bloom at night for moths? do you know? have you looked?)

I cannot look at a lawn and see life anymore. it is a wasteland, devoid of life, dying slowly itself. everywhere is grass, grass, doused in water that runs over into storm drains, soaked in fertilizer and pesticides and a hundred other poisons and sending one clear message:

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

I do not think I could live in a city. too loud, yes, too busy, yes, too many people, yes, but the plants would bother me. a tree allotted only a convenient square, surrounded by dead stone and metal.

a forest cleared for this, for burning asphalt streets and racing cars and shops whose bathrooms are “for paying customers only”.

this is a place of death. life is not welcome here.

and now I am noticing.

[horologiiiumart]

weretoons au jumpscare

[aalghul]

I was just possessed by a vision of Duke crashing all of jaykyle’s dates accidentally. the first time, he just happens to be hanging out with Jason when Kyle visits Gotham, and Kyle invites him out with them instead of kicking Duke out (like you’re supposed to do with younger siblings but Kyle wouldn’t know that because he’s an only child so it’s not his fault).

And then Duke just keeps popping up, all the time, in comical ways. Jaykyle are getting milkshakes in Brooklyn? Duke was already hiding under their table before they even sat down (why was he there? Who knows. He claims it was for a case).

Kyle takes Jason to R’ann for a vacation and they’ve been on the planet for all of 5 minutes before they see Duke in handcuffs because he somehow managed to get arrested on a whole different planet from the one he should be on. jaykyle dealt with that and decided they’d just have to keep him on their vacation. Batman was hysterical when they got back a week later because he literally had no clue how Duke had vanished off the face of the earth. Duke had selfies of him (with jaykyle at every romantic event they’d planned) on a different planet though so he didn’t really care

[fictionandmusic]

i’m going to say it: we need to get Dan & Phil onto Try Guys’ Without A Recipe

[shima-draws]

THAT right there, ladies and gentlemen, is a LOVE CONFESSION

[samglyph]

Ghost Hunter AU Part 2/2

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For @malevolent-monthly , IDs in alt text by @shadow0haven

Thanks for reading ;)

Tip Jar and Commissions

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Soggy veil bdubs with a shrugged off jacket bc ???????? He’s getting rain washed I guess

Also BONUS: some hermit reactions to said wet fella

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

are bi mike despisers aware that bi teens can still suffer from internalized homophobia, comphet, and the societal pressure to conform?