#oh look a blurb

[cyberneticnipples]

Does it weigh heavy on you?

Dove pops the door open, allowing them to get some extra room to disentangle. She wasn't ready to lose Claire's touch, but this was casual. Clinging wasn't part of the deal, no matter how empty her ribcage felt.

Her metal hand scrubs down her face as Claire maneuvers under her leg and snatches the discarded tank from the dashboard. Fuck. She retrieves her bottoms where they were flung and ties them under her chaps. Standing on shaking legs, she pulls the briefs into place on her hips.

“Come see you for advice on my ride and end up being ridden. Seems to happen a lot these days.” Dove's hands pat her sides to find her cigarette case and lighter.

“Somethin’ about you watchin’ my hands root around under the hood, I guess.” Claire looks smug.

After a few flicks at the tiny wheel on the lighter, the sudden flame touches the fresh cig between her lips allowing her to take a deep breath. The flash memory of their previous encounter has Dove pausing, “Yaknow, I'm real glad you ended up not killin’ Samson. If anyone was worth the revenge, it sounded like Dean would be,” She flicks the growing ash from her cigarette, “but I know that would weigh heavily on you.”

Claire was silent as she cracks open a bottle of beer. It took a few minutes of the silence growing louder for her to respond, “You ever kill anyone?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“He took something from me.” Dove's voice was small. Tight. “You know about the coyotes who chew their own limb off to get outta a hunter’s trap? It was his leg or mine. And he already took mine," She holds up her cyberarm limply, "Just took me years of gnawin’ to get loose.” The chocolate flavored tobacco wasn't calming her like it usually did, but it squashed easy under her boot on the concrete garage floor all the same.

“Does it weigh heavy on you?” Claire's bottle clinks against her belt where it rests.

“Nope.” Her eyes well with years of unshed tears. “Why would it?” Her organic hand swipes furiously at her face, not wanting to feel the drops sliding down her cheeks. When she could no longer keep up with them she presses the heels of her palms into her optics.

“I don't know, doll, just seems like it does.” She takes another swig, with a look of pain on her face unseen to Dove, “You were right though. Taking Samson wouldn't give me back Dean. What did your corpse give you?”

“My ability to run.”

[crsssie]

lunch break - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

"Hey, stop—" You stab at Simon's fork as he tries to steal another piece of food from you, huffing. "I'm already barely eating anything."

"'M hungry."

"You have snacks in the desk."

"That's not food, luvie." He mumbles.

"Yeah, but I gotta eat."

"The rice roll in your fridge begs a notice."

"It's not even a rice roll. I finished that last week. Yeah, don't we have food in my fridge?!"

"You want to walk back to our shared office and make me late to class?"

You bring the food to your lips, rummaging through your bag as you hand him another sandwich. "There you go. Can you stop stealing mine?"

"Luv ya."

"You literally stole my afternoon snack. I don't know what else you want from me." You finish the rest of your rice, biting on the tip of the utensil as you close your lunchbox. "You owe me coffee."

"It's the start of the semester. That's when the bribes come in." He hums. "Though, I know you won't like the mooncakes."

"No thanks. We still have all of the homemade ones in the fridge. I wish John would've taken more." You sigh.

"I can send more his way."

"Nah. It's fine. I'll hand it to my students." You mumble. "My office hours are in person for once."

"You don't get lonely?"

"Of course I do. I'm a professor." You deadpan, turning to stare at a couple of students. "They yours?"

Simon turns to stare, brow raised as the group scrambles. "Sure are."

"Can't wait to see what you end up seeing in the gossip section of your class discord."

"I'm not on it."

You grin at him. He doesn't want to know how you got the link.

"You got rice on your stubble. Again." You reach over, fingers gentle on his skin as you scrape at it. "Tsk tsk."

"Oh, so y'a don't even want me anymore?"

"Oh, Simon." You mumble, getting the last of the white off his chin. "Haven't shaved lately?"

"Hectic week. Also, you said ya liked it."

"I do." Your thumb brushes at the stubble, humming at the texture. "Feels lovely."

"You're better, luv."

"You really ought to stop reading my publications."

"You love it."

The grimace on your face makes him chuckle, leaning against your hand.

"Can't wait to check your class discord."

"Luv, can we drop it."

You only grin.

[little-pondhead]

Bruce was being watched. Again.

He didn’t know where it was coming from, and that was a problem at the moment. He was hosting another gala, intent on putting on the “Bruice Wayne” mask for the public. None of his children were attending, unfortunately, but everything was going okay so far.

Then he kept feeling a cool breeze on the back of his neck. His hairs stood on end, and he shivered randomly. Someone mentioned that he looked cold. But Bruce wasn’t cold. He was Batman! Batman is never bothered by something stupid like the temperature. It just felt like there were multiple pairs of eyes staring at him from all directions.

Bruce tried to catch whoever it was, but when he looked, there was no one there. He even made extra laps around the room, easily slipping between socialites and chatting his way through the crowd. He scanned the tables, checked the stairs, peeked outside, and even snuck at glance at the chandeliers for fuck’s sake! There was nothing. No cameras, no lingering eyes, nothing.

Bruce could feel his heartbeat quicken. There was something in the room. Something dangerous.

Eventually, the source of his anxiety came to him. The gala was small, being in the middle of the off-season for social events. It was a relatively quiet gathering. Still, Bruce flinched when someone tapped his shoulder from behind when he was making another waltz around the room. He turned, and was faced with a boy no older than 16, but no younger than 14. It was hard to tell his age. He wore an ill-fitted navy suit and scuffed dress shoes. His tie was no where to be seen, and the boy had a platter of finger foods balanced in one hand. He hadn’t heard anyone approach at all.

What made Bruce freeze, however, was the fact that the boy looked exactly like the portraits of the young Thomas Wayne that were hanging innocently in the Wayne family home. His crystal blue eyes seemed to glow in the overhead lights as they bore into Bruce. It felt like the boy could see his soul. The air was more chilled than it had been all night, and everything in Bruce’s mind was screaming DANGER!

“Y’know…” Bruce’s breath caught in his throat as the boy spoke. His midwestern accent was heavy, and the boy took a slow moment to polish off a baked feta bite before continuing. “You look like the kinda guy to have a secret basement. The bloody kind. Nice party, though!” With that, the boy disappeared back into the crowd, taking the cold air with him.

Bruce never got out a word.

———

Danny sees all the wandering souls and shades attached to Bruce Wayne, and comes to the obvious conclusion that the billionaire is a serial killer.

[ghosttotheparty]

‘hey, baby’

‘hey, have you seen my old hellfire shirt? i can’t find it.’

‘…no.’

‘…you’re wearing it right now, aren’t you?’

‘how dare you accuse me of that, you have no proof.’

‘alright, sweetheart, i’ll wear my other one. but you better have that on when i get to yours tonight.’

‘yes, sir.’

-

ty for the prompt @sharpbutsoft <3 i succumbed to the slightest peer pressure here's part two

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss >:] and a written out talking to myself because i think it’s funny that it looks like a star wars intro

[redwinterroses]

Yeah so. You should go read @silverskye13's fic about Tanguish and Helsknight and experience my suffering. /pos

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie, high out of his mind, rambling on and on and on about Steve. Yeah, he drones on about how good he looks (its a crime that he's that hot). Yet, Eddie's going all philosophical even, talking about soulmates and alternate universes where they are together. He's saying this to the guy who's sitting next to him. Grey at his temples, a few wrinkles around his eyes.

It's Steve, but Eddie is convinced it isn't because he never noticed the signs of aging before

[girlfox]

ah the eternal battle of appreciating riot's world building & lore surrounding ahri, or yoinking her straight out and writing a general fantasy main verse for her . . .

[ramiroo24]

Bridgerton really said "We'll save Bi Benedict for Pride Month" huh

[pepsicoughdrops]

I LOVE MY OCS 🫶 more stuff in tags !! ^_^

(click for better quality)

[iguessricciardo]

.

[egginfroggin]

New thought barely minutes old: Sabi has a scarf from Melli.

I was thinking up a blurb to write, and I thought that it would be cute if she had something that Melli had embroidered. She is tiny, and maybe she used to get cold easily, so Melli gave her an oversized scarf when she was smaller, before she became a Warden. It's big enough to still fit her even when she gets older and bigger, so she brings it with her to the Icelands.

It's soft and warm, and a shade of blue lighter than the Diamond Clan tunic, somewhere between the main deep shade and the shade that the symbol is done in. It has little berries and brightly-colored feathers embroidered on either end, like they're falling from the middle section and gathering up.

She likes it a lot, so she's very careful with it. If it gets especially cold, though, she'll bundle up extra warmly and wrap it around her neck. It makes her look like a little marshmallow.

Melli doesn't like to admit it -- it's sappy -- but he keeps a collection of feathers that she's given him when she comes to pester him. It's mostly Rufflet feathers, especially the red-and-white ones from their head, but she's given him a few wispy purple ones from Lord Braviary's crest, too.

(Maybe he'll teach her to embroider things when she gets a bit older, if she's interested and asks nicely)

(He doesn't trust her to not stab herself or him with the needle right now though)

[thatonefreemanversefic]

Guess who's saying this and who it's directed at. The answer is right no matter who you pick you've been bamboozled, you've been tricked, duped dare I say. It's the classic swindle and you've fallen for it, a silly jape if you will, a devious little scheme, an evil-

[hislittleraincloud]

Me: *takes the day off after publishing UVC*

Also me: *writes more Jairo after fine-tuning UVC for a couple of things/issues*

By the way, the beginning of UVC was based off of this scene in canon because I 💖 Winnie Black:

[bi-disastersoup]

A quiet shopping date out on the town... (My first VN-style gpose set, I hope you enjoy!)

This takes place shortly after R'alma's recovery from Ultima Thule, so they are both feeling a little separation anxiety.

[tvrningout-a]

IMAGES FROM DÓRVEROLD | ft. delwyn, rin, chiyoko, and cyrillo

" you're taking me with you? " chiyo asked, eyes a little wide and voice a little high. " but i'm-- my magic's not that good yet. " cyrillo tutted and threw an arm around the blonde, squeezing her into his side. " oh, cara mia, you don't give yourself enough credit! and anyway, i'll be coming, too. there's not so much pressure now, eh? " that didn't appear to comfort chiyo quite as much as he'd hoped; still she frowned, brow furrowed as she looked to delwyn and then rin. neither of their expressions changed ( rin looked pleased as ever ), though the prince would not make eye contact with her. chiyo could only imagine he did not want her coming, either, but he knew she needed to come regardless of any reservations the two of them had. no matter how green a mage she was, chiyo was god-touched like rin. they couldn't afford to leave her behind. rin stepped forward, physically waving away her worry. " look, those rich snobs would marvel at the simplest spell. you'll be fine. " chiyo sighed, leaned her head back. she could spy cyrillo's smile from the corner of her eye. oh, this was going to suck without a doubt, but maybe she could run away from the festivities after an hour. that would be fair, right? " ...i don't even own a fancy dress. " the vampire grinned beside her, gave her another gentle squeeze. " leave that to me. "

pg. 1/?