"you Shouldn't Bite The Hand That Feeds You" If You Insist On Treating Me Like A Beast Then You Can't

@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks

ID in alt

Family; Found and Favoured

Plotted thread with @jynxd

Viktor sat slightly crouched over his work as per usual. There was an abundance of noise around him but he had grown used to it here in their little hideaway on Emberflit Alley. Blitzcrank creaking away, Isha humming - no doubt scribbling all over Blitzcrank's chassis again and Jinx's music blasting away.

Long gone were the days the Machine Herald was permitted to work in peace. And yet... he didn't seem to mind. Removed, was his mask. His armour plating up for repairs and reworks. His augmented left arm tapped along the steel table as he read through his papers. His HexClaw also needed repairs... It had been a tough battle after all.

Reaching in his drawer, not looking away from the paper as he felt around for something that clearly wasn't there. "Hm?" He glanced down, rifling through the seemingly mismatched collection. But he knew what should and shouldn't be in here.

"Who has my spare infrared lenses? I swear if they are being used for 'dramatic lighting' again, Miss Isha..."

Sons Of The Labyrinth or The Things Our Fathers Do To Us

₊˚⊹ ♡ . JUST SHOW UP AND BE PRETTY.

“Mr. and Mrs. Robertson are the ones whose daughter just went off to college… she’s a hospitality major, I think… or maybe it was nursing—argh!” You drop your head into your hands, your notecards crinkling at the edges before you toss them down onto the dresser, giving up on your studying. “I’m never gonna be able to remember all this.”

Bruce rounds the corner, shrugging on his shirt casually. He isn’t even dressed, and the gala starts in twenty minutes.

“No one expects you to.” He hums placidly.

“You’re the CEO, it’s gonna look bad if I’m with you and I don’t know anyone’s names.” A frown starts to tug your mouth downwards, your teeth digging into your bottom lip anxiously.

As he finishes buttoning his shirt, looking entirely too handsome in plain, crisp white, Bruce crosses the room and joins you in front of his dresser. He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your lips in an attempt to smooth your growing frown. You lean into his touch automatically, his hand warm against your skin.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t work. Tonight’s supposed to be fun—at least a little, I’d hoped.” The baritone of his voice is so soothing, your concerns practically melt at the first comforting word that leaves his mouth. Bruce has always had a way of doing that, of saying things with such resolute calmness that they had to be true.

“Just don’t wanna embarrass you.” You mumble, though you knew he had already suspected as much.

Bruce lets out a slow, quiet sigh, his hand drifting down to rest on the crook of your neck. He tugs you gently forward, and you let him, as he makes you turn to face the mirror. You’re in the cobalt blue gown he picked out, throat and ears studded with matching sapphires. As you look in the mirror, your eyes don’t stay trained on your own reflection for long—rather, they flick to Bruce, who’s looming over you like some overly handsome and comforting phantom. He squeezes your neck reassuringly.

“Look at yourself. How could you embarrass me when you look like this?”

Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your mouth start to tip up into a small smile. Bruce catches it and grins, flashing his teeth in a way that’s equally as intoxicating every time he does it. Secretly, you spend most of your time together trying to coax those from him.

He dips his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder lightly at his breath against your skin. “Just be there, and be next to me, and be gorgeous. Everyone will love you.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes start to drift shut, lulled by his voice in your ear, like he’s hypnotizing you. You nod numbly, suddenly very agreeable with whatever he had to say. He lets out a small, deep laugh into your ear, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he pulls back from you.

“We’re gonna be late.” You point out, a whine at the edge of your voice from the sudden absence of him against you.

“Yes, definitely.” He replies.

Is this anything

Wonderbat by Artcraawl

Mystery Inc. but it’s the 1890s

Who had late Victorian Scooby Doo on their 2024 bingo card? Hmm?

The idea came to me when I was thinking about Sherlock Holmes and then remembered the iconic mystery solving gang hehe

here's something stupid: the catcatfish

some quick facts:

they're nocturnal and tend to roam around while awake.

they have keen senses of smell and hearing, but terrible eyesight. despite this, they also have a tapetum lucidum, making their pupils "glow" in the dark.

their fur is short, dense, and oily to waterproof them.

they prefer a diet of mostly meat and are attracted to strong-smelling food like fish, cheese, and anything fermented.

the elongated dewclaw on each front paw is sharp, flexible, and nonretractable. it injects a venom that causes respiratory failure and cardiac arrest in prey and, in extreme doses, humans. veterenarians typically remove the dewclaw venom glands during the neuter/spay procedure.

they grow to an average of 1m and 23kg (3ft and 50lb) but can reach up to double that length and triple the weight!

These two