[ezurum0reservation]

「…peregrinate gallery 」

he/him-20- rio/vinny-virgo-entj!):

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こんばんわ私の名前わビニイです。

☆～（ゝ。∂）

blog for my drawings + photos + occasional poetry

@humongouswolfblaze

check tags

[ezurum0reservation]

[xxalexmustdiexx]

[cogneartive]

when the persona you made eats you; when the performance youve been putting on eats you; when the name they gave you eats you; when the image people made of you eats you; when the role you were assigned eats you; when the you that other people see or even made for you or you made for them takes over the you that you know and eats you alive.

[morganblues]

my life lately

[l00106]

gone for months then spawning with shocking otp ship

[seth-whumps]

characters raised to be tools

Weapons. Trained, tested, forged in steel and fire. Failure is an inevitability that ends in death. Pain should not be felt--it should be recognized, familiar, and inconsequential

Martyrs. In the form of servants and princes, of leaders and underdogs. If blood is necessary, the martyr will lift their hands and offer it all

Shields. Like tempering a sword, but only to bear and not to lash out. Wounds are medals--not symbols of pride, but symbols of worth. A pretty shield is useless; scars mean a job well done

Experiments. Raised on the cold comfort of a lab table. Restraints are only necessary when they're not in their right mind. Is it honorable, to be twisted beyond recognition? Or is it just a necessary evil?

Monsters. Cruelty, caution, and regarding one as a creature beyond reasonable thought is tempering in its own right. But if you keep a leash at the right length, perhaps the massecre won't reach you. One can hope.

Idols. Pretty face, pretty name, pretty hands around their shoulders and throat. There to seduce, manipulate, force any feeling to come to the surface and twist it to their favor. Any genuinity stays locked behind the guilded cage that surrounds their pretty little heart

Trophies. Status and wealth and the traditions that keep someone at their heels, on their knees, to display and serve and decorate one's ballroom.

Sacrifices. Drenched in honorable clothes, prepared and adored and cleansed. The gift of hope at the cost of one's life. Is it taken with no fight? How can you escape the ropes you were born in?

[opendirectories]

[quasi-normalcy]

We have this interesting situation where we basically no longer have privacy nor the expectation of privacy, but we also don't have community or meaningful connection with others, so we're all simultaneously both completely exposed and absolutely alone, and please understand that when I say this situation is "interesting", what I in fact mean is that it's "nightmarish and I wish I could wake up"

[corrodedparadox]

Yoink

[hollow-head]

it's mouth season

(95º and 77% humidity)

[mazeeque]

[livixdunne-blog]

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[prokopetz]

"This fic is literally just porn, why do you care about the quality of the editing" unfortunately, both my brain and my dick have strong opinions about verb tenses.

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne what do we think about reader wearing Jason's clothes 👀

I think YESYESYESYES 🥰 jason x gn!reader. i had a plus sized reader in mind but no specific descriptions of body type. suggestive/dirty talk but no outright smut. short n sweet

****

"Baby?"

"Hi!" you say, coming out of the bedroom. "You're home early."

"Turns out it was a false alarm," you hear Jason say from the front door. He's unlacing his boots.

"A false alarm in Gotham?" You walk down the hall to the living room. "Didn't know those were possible."

"You'd have to see it to believe it." Jason looks up from where he's bent over, pulling off his second boot. He hesitates, stuck for a moment as you approach.

"I made dinner," you say, bending over and tilting your head almost upside down to meet his eye. You grin. "How do you feel about tacos?"

You feel your shirt slip down from this angle, your lower back and stomach exposed. Jason glances at your exposed skin.

"Um." He finally gets his shoes off and stands at his full height. His eyes are on your shirt. More specifically, they're on your legs, and he's trying hard to hide that fact, which you find endearing. "Uh..."

You raise your eyebrows. "I didn't know that was such a hard question."

He looks at you, cheeks a little red. "Tacos are good. Is that my shirt?"

It's his shirt, yes. His red Gotham Knights shirt.

"Yeah, I didn't do laundry yet. Is it okay if I wear it?"

Jason nods once. "Yeah. Yup. Fine. Good."

"Okay. Wanna eat now?"

He's still staring. "'Kay."

"Okay..."

You go to the kitchen, conscious of Jason at your heels and his eyes on you. You try to assemble dinner without thinking anything of it, but Jason's gaze has always been intense. It's like you're being tracked by the Red Hood. Definitely a Wayne thing—all of them have gazes you can feel.

Jason crowds you near the sink, his eyes so obviously not on your face.

"Jay," you say, voice light. "Do I have something on my butt?"

"Whuh?" He looks up, eyes wide. "No."

"Could've fooled me with how you're staring at it."

"I'm not staring at your... I'm, um, just looking at ya. I can't look atcha?"

"You can. Of course you can. I enjoy it when you do. But I'm feeling a little hunted, dude."

"Oh." Jason swallows and turns his head. He starts to slink away, probably to sulk. "Sorry."

Now that's odd. Jason should know you're only teasing. There's no reason for him to legitimately feel guilty.

You turn off the faucet and stand in front of him before he can disappear. "Hey, I'm kidding. If you wanna gaze at me lustfully, you can."

"I've just never seen you wear my clothes before," Jason says. "It's... new."

Ah. You may not be Batman, but you can take a hint. You drift closer, walking him so you're pressed against the kitchen island and he's all but on you. Jason lets you, looking like he's just broken a vase and is doing a poor job of hiding the mess. He's currently locked onto your exposed collarbone, the stretched out neckline of his shirt hanging low on you.

"Jaylove," you say sweetly. You reach for him, your fingers tracing his cheek and the corner of his mouth. "Do you like me wearing your clothes?"

"I didn't—I never realized how big they'd be on you. The sleeves are, like..." he trails off, picking up the edge of one sleeve, in a daze. Then he grimaces, looking at you. "That's weird, right? Me liking this? I'm sucha creep."

"Jason, I asked you to maul me last week. I think we're past shame."

He shakes his head. "Au contraire, baby. I was never past shame. It's the vigilante special."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, honey. Well, try to accept the fact that thinking I'm hot in your clothes is tame, as far as attraction goes. I'm not complaining."

His hands go to your waist, marveling at your size difference. Jason rarely buys tight fitting shirts either, so something that's loose on him is surely loose on you.

"And the star of the show." You lift the shirt to show Jason's red plaid boxers. You slightly snap the waistband against your skin.

"Oh," he articulates.

You smile, easing him forward with your arms around his neck. Jason catches himself on the counter behind you, hands on either side of you. You pull him closer, letting him fit between your legs.

"I'm yours, sweetie. I love how you smell. Love feeling you near me all day while I'm wearing your shirt."

He shudders, bunching up his shirt against your skin in fistfuls, his nose on your neck. "Y'gonna smell like me. So pretty in my clothes. You should wear 'em all the time."

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle at how easy your boyfriend is. Maybe you're a little easy too. "Oh, yeah? Want me to keep your boxers on while you touch me? Want me to get 'em wet?"

Jason moans, pressing you harder against the counter, his fingers digging into your back. "You can do anything. Oh m'God. Get 'em wet, please. Can't believe you like me."

"Like you?" You rake your fingers through his curls. "Baby, I love you."

He nips your neck and hoists your leg over his hip so he can press closer to you. "Yeah. Yeah, love y'too. So much."

At this rate, you're not sure you'll ever wear your own clothes again. Not with such a delicious response from your boyfriend.

[soundcarvings]

does anyone wanna hangout someday

[opendirectories]