#e-spot

[bevirspnsblmnt]

sometimes "disarm" and "trigger" are synonyms

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[zirconpetals]

Purcell-accurate Max has brown marks on the bottom of his feet

But in his ttg and Hit the Road designs, his feet are all white

He does however have the marks in the cartoon and in ttiv (though in ttiv they're pretty light & are more grayish than brown)

Though it has to be noted that in the comics and in the cartoon the marks also disappear sometimes, probably to simplify the drawing/animation process

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

This year's Jason Junko is a sequel to my 2022 Jason Junko cuz why not

2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020

[feralmoonlight]

cowboys are ok I guess @castercassette

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

[woetoy]

would prince ever tickle Eden's fancy? he's the guy all about the "getting impregnated by beasts" thing

[kai-in-the-korner]

fellas… part 5 (HELP)

[strawberryteabunny]

today’s coord to run errands 🐇💗

I also got to see the mag mile tulips in bloom and try a new bubble tea/poke place that opened near me! ໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა ⑅˚˖ ♥︎🧋

coord rundown:

JSK: Angelic Pretty Shoulder Ribbon JSK (Summer 2002)

apron, cardigan: BTSSB

blouse, socks: AP

I forgot to include my headdress in this but just wore a pink + white ribbon/lace rectangle headdress! oops ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

[what-inthe-goddamn]

The Lucky 38’s Halloween party, 2282

[carmenpeach]

Sonic and Tails are dead... in the midwest! Chapter 4

ch 1 ch 2 ch 3

[benevolenterrancy]

Can I ask what was your first impression of TGCF and if it turned out wrong or right?

My first impression of TGCF was "this goof continuously ascends to -- and gets kicked out of -- heaven, this is going to be clown town isn't it?"

And honestly I stand by that one, I think I was completely correct**

(**barring the fact that this goof will then go on to experience ever conceivable horror known to man but honestly I mostly expected it after MDZS)

[and-not-where-we-choose]

Mystery Spot. Sam is on day 244. He's seen Dean die 243 times. He's chewing drywall, as it were. He can't deal with Dean's face anymore. His voice. His gestures. He hasn't slept in 143 nights. He hasn't had a minute without Dean. Leaves him out of his sight, he dies – new day, new rise and shine, shitty rock song and oh, he wants out, at least a break. Can't, though, can he. He's tried to keep Dean safe throughout the day. Tried that 243 times and failed every single day, same day, new day, same day, everyday.

So on day 244, something gives.

He's still got the sensory echo of Dean being fucking electrocuted on all channels of his brain when he's ripped out of non-existent sleep, same as always, and he boils over. Dean is tying his stupid fucking laces while singing and Sam throws his knife at him, hits the jugular and windpipe and Dean doesn't even have time to turn around before he's choking on his own blood. It shouldn't, really shouldn't, but it feels good for a second. Sam's actions have impact, even if it doesn't get them out; he feels like he's got steady ground under his feet for the first time in months.

Day 245, 246, same thing. 247 and he's lunging over onto Dean's bed in one big step, topples him flat onto his back and guts him navel to sternum, drops his head against his shoulder and almost laughs before he wakes up again.

Back at it on day 248 and they fight it out, in the few seconds before Dean notices the knife it almost feels like they're kids again, sparring first thing in the morning, and then Sam slices his femoral artery. He's going for the liver the following day, soft and squelching, and the next heat of the moment iteration has him sticking sharp metal into the left side of Dean's neck and out the right.

He goes a little crazy with it when he finds out how easy he can hold Dean in a headlock, chokes him into unconsciousness and it's quiet for the first time in a long, long time, and when Dean's eyes start to flutter open after half a minute, he makes it quick and painless. He trails the knife over his stomach the next time before sliding it in, for the feeling of deliberately doing something just for the sake of doing it, the illusion of control.

At one point he holds him for a while with his back flush to his chest and feels a hammering heart through the back of his ribs, shushes into his hair before ending it. They repeat that one, because Sam likes the sensory overload it throws them in; he can still feel his own heart jumping in his chest every time before they start again. Sam's pressing soothing kisses to Dean's head, and they just land a little lower with each passing day until he's got a racing hot pulse between his teeth and quick breath against his cheek. Dean doesn't even notice Sam pulling the knife the last few times until it's in him to the hilt.

On day 280-something Sam wakes up and notices Dean's off-tune singing doesn't make his blood boil anymore and the idea of having big green eyes pinned to him in a mix of anger and pleading kind of turns his stomach as it should. So he nods, greets Dean's rise and shine, Sammy with a sleep-scratchy hell yeah and makes a new plan for keeping him alive till Wednesday.

[karma-creations]

I can't stop drawing my new character send help, I'm obsessed with my own story

AU Masterpost

[criticalspell]

how long has it been? How long can this go on?

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

SHADOWPEAH!!!!

Flat colors & sketch!!!