#his delivery lmao

[cloudsofbespin]

BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA (1992), dir. Francis Ford Coppola

[wistfulwatcher]

ONE LIGHTHEARTED CRIMINAL MINDS GIFSET PER EPISODE | 1.06 L.D.S.K

[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."

[candyje11yfish]

shawna! a cheerful delivery girl at a seafood restaurant🍤

[dollwrites]

hiiiiiii would you be willing to write something with ogata and a shy lover?

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. minors dni, dark themes may be present. these pieces are never proof read so mistakes are probably present. < 3 enjoy your experience

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one that needed my gloves,” Ogata chided, chastising you for the warm blush and the way that you shy away from his touch. your eyes flicker to the red gloves that are loose around your fingers, and hang further down on your wrists. you’d asked the wildcat sniper, in a timid little voice, if you could wear his gloves after losing yours on the mountainside, but you had no idea that you were meant to be his personal heater when he agreed.

his hands were ice cold— a testament to the brutal snowstorm you found yourself sheltering away from— and they made you let out a soft squeak when they found their way beneath your layers of warm clothes. “You want my hands to freeze?” he challenged, running one palm over your breast, the irreparable pad of his thumb pushing at the hardening bud in an almost teasing manner. the other hand was much more dastardly in its intentions. it curved over the shape of your supple belly, and dipped between your hips, finding that sweet, warm slick with his first two fingers. one eyebrow twitched at your reaction— a sharp inhale and squeak. you couldn’t watch him watch you, it was way too embarrassing. “If my fingers get frostbite, they’ll rot away,” he muttered. his voice, though taking on a macabre topic, was matter-of-fact instead of daunting. “I won’t be able to pull the trigger of my rifle anymore, and we will both starve if I can’t hunt.”

the way he fondled you was more than a little bit demeaning. he pinched and squeezed, rubbed with his fingertips or jabbed with his thumb, as if familiarizing himself with a new firearm, and not a delicate woman’s most intimate areas. you turn your head to the side, and feel the ghost of the snow shifting above the little trench Ogata’d buried the two of you in to keep warm flutter as it flutters against your cheek. the trench was barely big enough for him, and since he’d pinned you below his weight with one knee between your thighs, the other leg pressed close to yours, there was nowhere for you to be able to escape to.

“Sure, b—but… can’t we hold hands instead?” you ask, sheepishly squirming when he uses the tip of his forefinger to lightly scrape at your swelling button. “Or I can—-!”

Ogata is so silent. it unnerves you, how quiet he is sometimes. his eyes are deep and unreadable, abysmal whirlpools, but they’re hyper focused on the way your expression contorts and the sound of your little whimper when he slips his middle finger into you.

“O—Ogata…!” your hands flee towards his arm, grasping his bicep. you can barely feel his body warmth with the several layers between your hand and his arm, but you still cling to it. “Th—that’s—“

“Jesus, you’re warm. Tight…” he mutters, his eyes flitting the length of your body to rest on the movement of his hand beneath your layers. he pushes his finger deep, slowly straightening and then curling his finger. you writhe in response, your inner walls in a frenzy, and hide your face in both hands. Ogata notices your act of shame, and the corners of his mouth twitch, but the specter of a smirk never reaches fruition. “It’s annoying when you do that.” he grunts, his finger pumping in and out of you at a steady pace now. he was intrigued by the way your breath caught in your throat, the way your eyelids fluttered behind your fingers, interested in the way you looked when he played with your pussy, but here you were hiding. “You’re so shy you don’t even wanna look at me?” Ogata muses, giving your breast a hard squeeze. his teeth sank against the inside of his cheek upon the feeling of your flesh against his palm, between his fingers…

you shook your head, babbling behind your makeshift shield of red leather about how embarrassing it was. “Because you’re so wet.” he thought aloud, his brows threatening to furrow as he contemplates, before the hand on your chest escapes from your clothes, and instead pries one of your hands away with a tight grip on your wrist. you whine and squirm, but ultimately feel him anchor the back of your hand to the earth by your head. your free hand still hovers near your face, though it’s drifted moreso to your mouth so you can chew at the tips of your fingers, tasting the leather of Ogata’s glove. you want to close your eyes, but you can feel him pressing his forehead against yours, and when you look up, your eyes are locked in his stormy gaze. “You’re being dramatic. I already knew I made your pussy wet.” you cringed at how blunt he was: Ogata made everything sound ten times worse with that flat, lifeless baritone. sure, you had a crush on him and maybe you weren’t that good at hiding it, but did he have to say it like that?

your back arches when you feel his ring finger join the middle. they were long and thick, calloused and roughened by the elements, cold to the touch, but they felt good plundering you. “I—I’m already full…” you mewl before his forefinger can worm its way inside with the other two. it’s embarrassing to admit, but it leaves your lips, and your voice sounds almost in awe at the sensation. “Can’t take anymore…”

Ogata pauses his ministrations with his fingers still knuckle deep in your core, his breath warm against your cheeks, and he said this just to embarrass you further, “Gotta stretch you out a little bit before you’ll be ready to take a cock.” his mouth never once brushed against your skin, offering not a single ounce of comfort or romance in this moment. instead, he sighs, as if the task at hand was impossible. “We can’t have you screaming like a trapped bunny when I stick you.”

[sophsun1]

Interview With The Vampire 1.03 Is My Very Nature That Of A Devil

[arkarti]

I can't stop thinking about William and the Egos. I feel like he'd be utterly annoyed by Wilford while Wilford just enjoys getting on his nerves.

(Wilford would also argue that he's the better murderer)

ajhfdgkj valid 😂 Just slightly annoyed. He would not shut up~

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Kens, ‘cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me I'm better off, but I'm not / And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite

[a-a-a-anon]

ade edmondson delivering vyvyan's strangely articulate the good life outburst in the audiobook reading for berserker! (2023) vs for the young ones - sick (1984)

[sketchy-tour]

As much as I have a dislike for people making children of oc/canon ships, you drew the child so adorable😭😭💕💕

I can see the child being a small addition in the show /pos

ISTG I LOVE YOUR ARTTTT IM SOBBING 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕💕

THANK YOU! It means a ton to hear Ivy looks like he could actually be in the show. ;w;/

I knew when I posted Ivy that there's some people who aren't all too into seeing fan children. It's not everyone's cup of tea. But the love I got for Ivy Darling really made my heart warm. He's so silly! I love my silly puppet family so so much.

[ghoooooooooooooooost]

his dance???

[vanityangel]

"Well, I'm happy to see you guys, too."

[helpmyinterestsareverywhere]

Lloyd Garmadon - assigned she/he by a subconscious part of my brain apparently

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Is it weird to admit I actually miss the shitty filter era? Idk the Conception Saga™ was just charming. Just a cool lil indie project growing in real time. Watching everyone post their auditions, the old cast reveal/bonding videos, original versions of all the songs (I for one will forever be mourning the mildly different original Warriors of the Mind lyrics). I know it's "cringe" but the TikTok eye filters/thematic lighting combination was kind of a vibe. It's like a little nostalgic memory to look back on from the absolute hype era we're in now.

[niymue]

Astarion: You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust and pain and misery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do.

[sophsun1]

Queer as Folk – 4.03: Starting a Whole New Life