#random night shots

[ciaervo1]

[alyakthedorklord]

Fight Club

Damian is sitting on a roof during a patrol, bored with no crime happening in his area, about to go find one of his siblings and annoy them/steal their jobs, when suddenly a voice comes out of nowhere.

“Hey, are you busy?”

He turns around, startled by how he hadn’t sensed anyone, to see a girl about his age with black hair and blue eyes just… sitting there.

“I am capable of assisting you.” He says, because he is trying to be a Good Robin and not dismiss civilians.

“Oh no I don’t need anything.” The girl says, shrugging. “If you’re on a stakeout i can go. I’m just bored. And you look fun to fight.”

Damian stares at her. She stares back.

“You think… I would be fun to fight.” He repeats. She doesn’t look like she could take on a trained assassin. She looks like any random civilian. Then again, she had snuck up on him.

“Yeah.” She shrugs, as if this is in any way normal. “So. You too busy?”

“…no.”

“Oh, awesome.” The girl bounces to her feet, and in the next second, Damian is ducking a punch as she grins brightly at him.

“I’m Dani by the way!”

[1800titz]

A little drabble on Trivia!Harry and inspections (aka the most unsatiating pussy massage)

Trivia!Harry likes to get his girl out of her own head in a really simple way. It’s a little invasive, sure, but it gets the trick done— and, poor girl, her gears are always sort of just turning, aren’t they? It feels like his place to help. His purpose.

And, really, it’s very simple. Easy. And he can tell when she needs it most— when she’s maundering beside him on the couch. Fingers twisting together in her lap. Prating off without a gap to suck a breath in between her teeth to oil the grinding flow.

It’s failsafe.

All he has to do is fold her over the cushion on all fours. Peel her shorts off to bunch over the backs of her thighs, or flip her skirt up over her hips and pry her panties off. Leach the warmth from her pretty, little cunt with the tips of his fingers, prodding her lips apart with either thumb.

It milks the blustery vim behind her skull dry, until all that’s left is an incomprehensible, soporific sludge. Tinted in the haze of humiliation, because it’s embarrassing at its core, isn’t it? His fingers poking at her pussy, tucking the hood of her clit back, brushing over her pulsing seam.

She’s hot-faced, with warmth spuming under her skin and frothing in the pit of her tummy. And of course, it fosters a new snowball down the (suddenly frozen) piste of her brain— absorbed in the way the blunt pad of his forefinger grazes her exposed clit (almost overstimulating, for a nanosecond, before it retreats) and passes.

Because he’s seen her pussy so many times, hasn’t he? Ogled down at the thick of his cock splitting her apart when he fucked into her, thighs pinned apart with his palms on her knees. Parted her lips to spit onto her clit, dewy eyes blown onyx, staring, before he puckered his lips around it. Bullied it with his tongue.

But this is different, this is—

His digits stuffing in past her throbbing (progressively …leaking) seam (his middle finger, twisting in, his thumb tucked to her clit hood). Exploring. Scrutinizing the way he nudges between her legs. The sloppy string of slick that stretches from his skin to her hole when he pulls his finger out.

It’s humiliating to feel him trace a sticky glob of her arousal, pooling, down to her clit. Spreading her folds again, tracing the shape of her swelling button with his thumb (avoiding the screeching nerve endings there, pulsing, twitching like a visible plea for him to touch, please, touch).

And he does, eventually, pulling the hood of her clit back again to scrape the tip of his index so light over her most sensitive bit, just enough of a window to have her hips canting back (almost indiscernible). Have her swollen bud throbbing when he pauses the ministrations (stops to admire the scenery) and her hole twitching. And she knows that he’s …inspecting is the thing. Watching the way her cunt squeezes uselessly at the air, empty and unstuffed.

And that gets her dumb and quiet. Gnawing into the knobs of her knuckles when he’s just peeling her apart to stare, only touching like he’s making observations in some crudely gnarled, abrasively invasive experiment.

When he pinches her clit between his thumb and forefinger, lightly, rolling—

When he spreads her cheeks and pointedly finds her other hole, humming, the nail’s already hilt-deep in the coffin.

That’s his little trick. Gets the job done.

It’s either that, or he collars over the column of her throat with his palm. And then just… squeezes. Watches the cogs stutter through the windows of her eyes, fogged over and misty.

Either or :)

[tmntxthings]

Yk that dude who almost always gets run over whilst crossing the street in Rottmnt? Yeah.

You swallowed. Thinking to yourself as you looked across the street, that this would be the day. Today, you were going to make it.

The sign changed to green, the picture of a figure moving. Your left hand tightened its grip on the grocery bag you held. You wouldn’t continue to live in fear. That was a horrible way to live.

Without leaving your house. Choosing to never go outside again. Or more accurately, to never be a pedestrian again. Well…

You had tried to bike it before, but that had ended just as similar as the rest. Getting rushed from what seemed to be all around by a cacophony of noise. Sometimes you were freezing in place or being tossed around.

Each time had put the fear of death in you. Squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath, only to count to three and New York’s street bustle was back to normal again. The sign changed to red, a raised hand took the place of the figure.

No villains being chased by mutants. Not almost getting sideswiped by huge vans. Each “miracle” as everyone would call it, was you being impossibly left unscathed.

Damn miracles. It was a curse. To constantly be on the verge of a heart attack! Seriously, no matter which street you crossed as long as it was in New York, you were doomed to the inevitable.

A free ticket to see your life flash before your eyes! Shaking your head you knew exactly what this was. You were stalling. Maybe you’d just haul a cab. Tell him to spin the block so it would just put you on the other side of the street. Where your destination resides.

Your apartment a shining beacon of safety, was within reach. Just one crosswalk. And you would be home safe. You looked down the street.

One way, then the other. Traffic. Cars. Streetlights. People. But this was how it always started off as. No sign of them.

Yet.

You sighed. This was all in your head. Just a bizarre reoccurrence of events. It couldn’t seriously happen every time you got on a crosswalk.

That would be insanity. That would be something out of a movie! Not real life. So as you siked yourself up, for a sixth time, your eyes made contact with your goal.

The three steps that led up to the door justttt across the street. This was it. You were doing this. You were gonna walk this damn crosswalk. And make it to the other side.

The people around you started walking. You joined them. The light still green, the figure in motion. A timer of thirteen seconds counted down.

Your eyes never left your destination. So you were ignorantly unaware of how the people around you, just dispersed. Moving off faster or slower. Creating distance, enough space, for you to have a bubble.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose. And as fast as lightning something went speeding by inches in front of you. Surprise, really should be the last emotion at this point.

Disappointment. Or acceptance was one more accurate as you jolted backwards. Arms raising and as if in slow motion someone was grabbing ahold of your waist securely.

There was a flash of blue as you met the gaze of who was holding onto you. One of the mutants you had come to expect. Green and a brightly colored mask. There was no look of shock on your face. Just one of exasperation.

He had the nerve to wink in this slowed down state of the world. Whisking you out of harms way in seconds, placing you back down, further along on the white stripes and was gone.

Off saving the day you presumed since you had done a little research on the vigilantes of NYC. They were the city’s heroes whether they admitted it publicly or not. Your heart betrayed you, beating faster than a hummingbird’s as you stumbled to the finish line.

Despite your lack of facial reaction your body was alive, hairs standing, trembling limbs and the breath practically sucked out of you.

“Are you okay?!” People were crowding around you now. A sense of déjà vu clouding your mind as the same questions were asked. The same exclamations pointed out.

“That must’ve been quite a shock!” And the like were a bit muffled to your ears. You couldn’t help but stare after where the chase had departed. Taking with them the few seconds of mayhem you had to endure.

Your mini heart attack.

That settles it. You thought to yourself in defeat. Marching away from the crowd, up the steps, pulling out a key to unlock the door.

You were in a movie. Some cliche action film most likely. And your role, your purpose in this world, was to almost die.

Just you know, in passing.

[chirpsythismorning]

DUFFER BROTHERS PAY HOMAGE TO THE FIRST GAY KISS IN FILM WITH BYLER IN S5 CHALLENGE

[gingerjolover]

been in my naomi vibes as of late, would luv to see a smut of naomi for v-day 🎀 possibly involving a lingerie fashion show as you’ve discussed on your page before. luv ur writing 🫶

oh haiiii

so i had this as a whole fic and it.. got deleted

so i shall summarize

RPF smut under da cut, minors gtfo<3 (im so srs)

okay so a long time ago i mentioned that (canonically) naomi calls soft!gf "babydoll" bc of their obsession with buying soft!gf lingerie

and we shall divulge in this however it should be known that naomi did not start buying you lingerie right out the gate okay?

it all started when you and naomi started dating, you didn't uhaul honestly, i feel like naomi is really into their space and environment and it takes a lot of effort for nomi to either move or allow big changes in their space

it starts because naomi bought you a bunch of pajama sets for their apartment

and this just became a thing like naomi would see a cute set online or even on the road and just get it and mail it home for you or whatever

and eventually after a little bit you find out naomi's love for you in lingerie (im thinking it was a lace top and jeans situation that naomi just could not keep it in their pants) and thats when the babydoll thing starts

not the naomi starts off conservatively, but it's really the act of taking it off of you that excites them

but eventually they realize that you find some confidence when they worship you in it so they start to put more effort into what the color is, the type of material, the fit of the set, how easy is it to put on and take off, can the top be worn with jeans in public, and so on and so forth

and this isn't a weekly or even monthly thing, it really is only for special occasions or when naomi wants to spice things up

it's pretty much expected on either of your birthdays, valentines day, and your anniversary to find a big black box with a ribbon tied around it on your bed waiting for you

and maybe because muna has been so busy, naomi hasn't bought any in a while so there's like three or four boxes the night before valentines day

and naomi has the cockiest shit-eating grin on their face, probably in a pair of loose cargos or joggers, a grey crewneck on as they lounge on the bed, hands behind their head

"go on babydoll, show me what ya got," comes out of their mouth, and if you didn't love them sm you'd roll your eyes

and naomi carefully curated the lingerie for valentines this year, like there's a style you really like, a color that compliments your skin, one that is unique and you haven't tried before, and maybe a risky one that naomi didn't know if you'd be interested in

"need help?" naomi would call, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, manspreading with their hands clasped

"no, give me a sec," you'd reply, slipping on the first one

and one by one you'd come out of the bathroom, naomi letting out a low whistle or pretending to faint or fanning themselves, trying to hype you up

they always hold a hand above you, spinning you gently before kissing your hand, rough hands running up and down your sides

naomi is rubbing your hips, groaning softly, "look at you baby doll, goddamn," before pulling you between their legs kissing you softly

naomi ushers you back to the bathroom with a sweet tap on your ass, pushing you softly

but the last one, it's probably a babydoll style but has a bunch of cut outs or is like completely see through

and it's less about the lingerie like i said before, there is something so intimate about this experience for the two of you, both getting some type of boost from it

but this one is like... intensely horny, like you gasp pulling it out of the box bc its almost unholy

and it's probably in a soft pink or dark red or white, one that would compliment your skin tone well (but there's not a ton of fabric to begin with like its mostly frills and sheer)

and you walk out of the bathroom, a tiny bit insecure because it's just SO different than the usual ones

and naomi's reaction is new, its a full jaw drop, absolute shock to the system as naomi literally stutters

there's no witty comment, no annoying whistle or anything, they just stare at you jaw slack

"oh- no, no, don't cover up, get your cute ass over here... holy shit," naomi says, still shocked but noticing your nervousness. and you walk over gently, and even for the room thats literally vibrating in sexual tension and insanely horny energy, naomi just brushes some hair out of your face and cups your cheek, "you look so pretty babydoll," and it's so tender and affectionate you could sob

and honestly, kinda a blur but it takes naomi approximately .5 seconds to rip it off of you before they are buried between your legs

like never ate a meal before/drinking from the fountain of youth shit naomi is literally devouring you

and by the second orgasm (from their tongue alone) naomi's sweating bro, ripping off their crewneck and then laying on the bed, pulling down their pants just enough bc of fucking course they were packing all day in preparation

and look if naomi is using a strap, you're bouncing okay? they call you bunny for a reason

but it's almost frenzied, like you both know what you need to do

small glances and shy smiles are exchanged, both speaking with your eyes to make sure that everything is still good between you both and everything is consensual and chill and feeling good

one of naomi's hands grips your hip as they help guide you down onto the strap, the other rubbing your ass softly

"good job bunny, that's my girl," they whisper, a proud cocky smirk on their face as yours contorts

and naomi is so calm the whole time, letting you move around how you need to so you can get off

right as your about to cum again, naomi has a hand in your hair, bringing your face to theirs

"good job bunny, what do you have to say? hm?" naomi asks, breathy and whispery as your legs shake

"thank you for- the clothes," you mumble, your nose rubbing against theirs sweetly, but your panting as their fingers tug a little harder at the root of your hair

"good job bunny, let go," naomi whispers, letting you release, your face in their neck as they rub your back gently

also naomi is the king of aftercare i said it once i'll say it again

and yes they tore that last set to pieces! what did you expect! you're hot!

[cybrpnkd]

"Hmph, think you can drive the shadows away?" "I'll even protect you from yourself."

— mods :: pose pack

[urinarythreatinfection]

I hear pretty often calling a guy's ass a pussy as a sexy thing. Which makes sense since a vagina is created for penetration and making a man, something not necessarily used for penetration, getting something used for such acts is a sexy thing. But girls have asses too. So you could hypothetically do the same thing right? Making a girls ass also a pussy since its the same thing? But what would the dirty talk be? Or the thought process? Usually for men its stuff like "Fucking your pussy, gonna make you my wife" or even "Gonna get you pregnant" acting like things that shouldnt be possible are possible because of how hard youre fucking them but for women who already have such parts what is used? "I'm going to give you a second pussy" perhaps? Claiming over every part of them that parts of them that werent even made for penetration like a vagina also a vagina. That you're making every part of them made for penetration, even if they already have one. Is that also sexy? Thoughts?

[ghostoffuturespast]

Grandpa got to stand on an AC unit instead of a trash can this time.

She still stinky though 🦨

[nihilismtrcit]

🍂

[ciaervo1]

[izzy-b-hands]

[palletteofhyperfixations]

I am gonna be aft(away from tumblr) for about the entire day, so…. *Yeets poll at you before running away*

[cozypancakes]

from cisco’s comments and everyone in the FBI’s general attitude towards peter, it sounds like he was limited to a desk job at the FBI. Other political thrillers make it sound life field work is something an agent works their way up towards/earns. Peter had all the training but was stuck analyzing reports even before the metro bombing. 

Killing the assassin may have been the first time Peter killed anyone...

[waled-88]

[clarablightt]

did some more photography around NC today! quite happy with how these ones turned out!

this city (and that fire pit in Santo Domingo) is my muse