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#my kinda vibe
petaltexturedskies · 5 months
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Emily Brontë, from Wuthering Heights originally published c. 1847
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transplutonic · 10 months
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current aesthetic: birch tree, a lot of them in a tall birch forest, it's dusk and kinda sketchy vibes, and the trees have eyes. they stare you down. some look panicked. some look sad. some just look. they don't all look at you. but some do, and you get the feeling that they see you. wondering, why are you here, and will you, too, seek to destroy what safehaven we have created? huh?
you get the feeling that you are not welcome in this place. this forest is not friendly. the trees are angry.
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broh3m3 · 5 months
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They got you under pressure, doing overtime 🎶
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a couple scribbles i cleaned up. also i think i like drawing him in varying states of distress
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radiance1 · 3 months
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The Justice League have a problem, one that needs some level of knowledge and expertise of a being from the Infinite Realms to give them a better chance of actually solving this problem.
However.
Every ghost they have summoned, without fail, took one look at Constantine. Squinted (yes, squinted). Then decided to go back to where they came without a word.
This. Would have been useful, nice even. If it was a situation where they needed the summoned being of a cult to head back to where they came without a fight.
But alas, that is not what is happening.
The Justice League, obviously, ask him why the ghosts keep fleeing back to their Realm at the sight of him, but Constantine can't answer because he genuinely has no idea why they keep leaving when getting a proper look at him.
So they keep trying and they do find some success in it. They summoned a boy, most likely older than he physically looks yet it still puts some of them off because of, well.
You know.
A boy with white hair and toxic green eyes. The boy stops short, as if not expecting to be randomly transported to somewhere else, takes a look around the room, then the Justice League. His eyes settle on one person.
Constantine, in particular.
He squints (Why do all of them squint? Nobody knows) and then a sudden looking of realization passes on his face. Different from the looks of vague fear and genuinely want to not involve themselves any further, his face held slight disgust and a heavy amount of disappointment.
Thankfully, he didn't leave immediately after that.
Constantine asks what's with the look on the ghost boy's face, the ghost boy in question squints even further. Stares at Constantine for a moment or two, buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his hand and groans out.
"He could've done so much better."
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touteytout · 1 month
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ghoulia
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higgsbison · 1 year
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you and your bestie [incomprehensible]
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soosoosoup · 8 days
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snowzone
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drykoolaid · 15 days
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Mommy daughter reunion prt 2.
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earthtooz · 7 months
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
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there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 
“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”
“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 
“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.
there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 
“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”
“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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princessbrunette · 10 days
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⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
ik i said sarah isn’t my type but maybe in the context of like…. john b and sarah dating, appearing normal and regular to everyone around them but really they’re a pair of weird perverts, seeking out a sweet innocent girl for them to use like a little toy. they pick up a sweetheart working at the library, shy and lonely and decide she’s the one !! so they befriend her and start to bring her everywhere, getting her used to their copious amounts of affection that they play off as platonic… john b constantly putting an arm around your waist or stroking the back of your head which makes you nervously glance to sarah, not wanting to be disrespectful but she’s already gazing at you with that thinly veiled excitement and encouragement.
sarah is touchier than john b, knowing you’ll likely think nothing of it if it’s another girl. she doesn’t even know if you like girls like that, and you feel totally ashamed at the way your cunt clenches and gets all sticky when she jokingly grabs at your tits infront of everyone or smacks your ass, telling you to stop hiding that ‘pretty ass’ from her. you figure this is just how they are with their friends. open and affectionate— it’s only when the two invite you to a sleepover you suspect they might have been concocting something all along.
it gets onto the topic of sex, and you’re shameful to admit that you’ve never done anything like that before — coming from a very strict, perhaps religious family. sarah is still playing bestie-bestie with you, grabbing you to say “wait, hold on. you’re telling me you’ve never even made out with a guy? okay, you’re missing out. john b come here.” the two of them ushering you onto his lap. you feel nervous, like you’re being disrespectful once more and she simply reassures you, kissing your shoulder and telling you in your ear that it’s “—fine, babe. i’m right here so it’s not even weird.”
the night progresses, and doesn’t stop progressing until you’re totally nude, laying against sarah who encourages you as you take all of john b’s length, the man above you slowly grinding his cock inside you inch by inch as you wince, clenching hard around what he’s feeding you slowly. sarah is right there for you, starting off by simply holding your hand, sharing giggles with you. giggles that turn into kisses, that turn into her sucking on your tits and rubbing at your clit whilst her boyfriend fucks you.
john b is super sweet about it too as you can imagine. “hey, we’d never make you do anything you don’t wanna do. yeah?” brow all creased in genuine concern as he takes his turn to thumb at your clit. you’re split open around him, watery eyes glancing between the two to shake your head.
“feels really good.” you hiccup, and the couple share a chuckle together.
“thaaat, i figured. you’re like… incredibly wet. it’s amazing.”
so do we fw that or no .
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅🎀༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
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echoes-of-the-unknown · 3 months
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Happy wedding day!!!
Clear of text below the cut
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applestruda · 11 months
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Mother spore
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chiptrillino · 2 years
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By any chance do you have a larger photo of those Yue designs? I'm absolutely digging them
uhm... sadly i didn't at the time you asked me. but i do have now! so sorry for the longer wait;;;
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the one i posted were really tiny and i was working anyway on these. it just took me a bit to get it done :D uhm... so here me playing dressup... with yue... again... sorry yue...
if i have to explain mayself... my thought process is basically... yue is the moon. so her dress is either the moon or the enviorment around or below her. and.... you know... fish... -tries not to feel my ex profs glaring at me like "elaborate more dang it"-
also! all these option but if someone tells me to draw yue again i would still give her... a new outfit or just idk... because i can't pick!!!!
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haunted-xander · 6 months
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Pixie princess*⁠.⁠✧
I think Ryne would become one of the pixie's favorite humans
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They don't talk about it.
But there's no way Nate should know those things. No way the client could have told him, no way he could've figured it out on his own. Not when these things were nothing more than fleeting thoughts from the mark. But Sophie notices him quietly go for the scotch behind the counter and rub at his head in pain with extra vehemence some days despite the latest con having no personal connection to him.
They don't talk about it.
But someone should've recognized Sophie on that con. There's no way she could have that many characters per con. No way none of those diplomats didn't recognize her from any of her previous cons. Not when she didn't change any more than her clothes and accent. But Nate notices her features seem to flicker at the peace and safety of home when she thinks he isn't watching.
They don't talk about it.
But no one could've survived that. And certainly not looking the way he does. There's no way he didn't come out of that fight broken and bloodied to all hell. Not when instead he walks out with a purposeful stride and only a clenched jaw, rolling his shoulders. But when he's cooking and accidentally burns himself, Parker notices the unmarked skin left behind.
They don't talk about it.
But not all vents are human sized. They all saw the size of the vent cover as she exists with a grin. There's no way she could've fit in there. Not when the human body can't bend that way, a way that even the greatest contortionist can't bend. But some days Hardison notices as she seems to stretch and bend before his eyes when she's feeling relaxed and safe enough.
They don't talk about it.
But that's not how computers work. There's no way Hardison could access that kind of thing. Not when he describes how he did it like that. Not when he does it so quickly like that. Not when he says he's taken berries and the next thing they know he's recreated a colonial era journal to perfection. But Eliot swore he shoved a glass of water at him, not more goddamn orange soda.
They don't talk about it, the thing lingering over their heads as they conduct each con, the unacknowledged thing between the five of them that's a little deeper than just a desire to take down the rich and powerful.
They aren't perfect, they all know that- sometimes they're too good with their covers, sometimes they have to shift gears as the con unfolds before them, but somehow things always seem to work out.
But no one asks about it, so-
They don't talk about it.
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