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#so writing is my go-to
woobifiedvillain · 5 months
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Going insane about kicked dog with rabies type characters
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elodieunderglass · 6 months
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changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.
I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.
Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.
No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.
But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?
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luvit · 4 months
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can u please do a little blurb of Simon/ghosts reaction to younger!girlfriend!reader! When he takes their virginity and they are so tight he can barely fit. And maybe if ur feeling up to it make reader cum ON JUST THE TIP like he’s literally not even in. Also…….maybe reader’s a squirter…
(female!reader, mdni 18+)
THE SCREAM I SCRUMPTTTTTT EUUUARGHHHHH. this honestly created a new wrinkle in my brain. thank you. i kiss you on cheek 😗 (fem!reader)
simon who knows how big he is, s'the first thing he said when you first brought up sex. a gentle warning that he's going to be a lot to handle. but he's sweet on you, lets you bring up when you want to talk about sex. when you want to have it. but just because he lets you lead that topic doesn't mean he hasn't been thinking about it. dreaming about it. craving it.
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the way you look up at him with such sweet, innocent eyes has simon's heart aching. you poor thing, don't know what you're in for. but he keeps your mind off of it with the way he continues to kiss up and down your body.
you've totally entrusted yourself to simon. he thinks it's dangerous with the way you've opened yourself up so willingly for him. because although he's a trained soldier who has endured some of the worst. the biggest challenge yet as to be refraining from ravaging you with when he hones in on the damp spot on your panties.
it's the only guard you have against him right now. otherwise stripped bare for his hands to touch and his lips to press into. he starts mapping out your body so it can be prepared to fully claim it as his. wants so badly to be your first and your last. knows he can make it so, because he plans on wrecking you tonight.
"simon, when are you going to-" he cuts off your sweet voice by kissing your breast, nipping at it playfully and smirking when you whine. he pulls back to stroke your hair back and look you in the eyes with a teasing grin.
"going to wha'?" it makes you blush to even think of trying to get out the words properly. it'd already been enough to work up the courage to tell him that you were ready tonight. made you blush even harder by the way he bared his teeth in a feral grin when you said so.
"to... to f-"
"fuck you?" he interjects. "no, no, baby. not going to fuck you silly. not tonight. can't handle that yet, no matter how badly i want this pussy t'be mine." he grins down at you and softly cups your cheek. "i gotta introduce myself to her first, get her used to me and give her a proper welcome."
"her?" you ask timidly and he shuffles again between your thighs so that his boxers press up against your clothed pussy. makes you look at the size of him between your legs, and then at the size of his bulge.
"your pussy, baby. my pussy." he hums and strokes your thighs lovingly. he enjoys that little panicked look in your eyes, because he knows it's not because you want to back out. he can sense you're still okay with this. he just wants to coax you out a little bit, help you gain more confidence in this setting. because it would be further than the truth to say that he isn't so sexually attracted to you right now.
"how are you going to do that, simon?" you ask and hold your legs back for him. oh, so obedient. didn't need to ask. he awards you with a squeeze on your thigh and a pat to the knee.
"can i take these off, princess?" he asks while holding his hands at your hips. they're resting just above your underwear so he's not actually touching them, just barely above the hem of them. when you nod, he gives you a reassuring smile and slowly slips it off of you. he lets out a breath when he sees your pretty pussy underneath him, spread open from the position your legs are in since he's already so wide and you have to accommodate. "such a pretty pussy. can i touch?"
"yes, please." you look at him with hands by your chin, brought up since you weren't sure what to do with yourself. simon can't help but hum at the way you're so good for him, so polite. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers prod at your pussy lips, spreading them out even more.
he takes a gentle finger to slowly feel at your slit. there's enough of a sticky mess down there from all the kissing and licking he did at your neck and nipples. the way he was whispering promises of how good he was going to treat you and your "princess cunt" made you excited to experience what he wanted to give you.
"gonna put a finger in, yeah?" he confirms with you. you nod again and then he gives your hip a squeeze. "need you to use your words, baby. gotta make sure you tell me yes or no."
"please put a finger in me, simon," you beg him. he has no choice but to oblige. and then he's slowly pushing in a digit, his fingers already thicker than what you might expect and the stretch is a lot. your walls squeeze tightly down on the foreign feeling and he gently shushes you with a thumb to rub at your clit.
"i gotcha. need to prep you good if y'wanna take my cock. y'wanna take my cock, baby?" he asks while gently massaging your walls. it feels a little weird at first but the way he circles your clit is too good. you squeeze down on his finger again and he curses in his head. oh, how tight you were. just a wonder of how you'd feel wrapped around him. but he knew patience. he could wait just a little longer.
"i do. i want to feel your cock, simon. please make me cum," you watch him as he kisses your tummy. he tells you that he promises to. tells you that he was sure he was put on this earth to please you, to make you cum so good around him. he adds another finger when he feels that you're ready, and then another after that one. he has you stretched on three fingers with him rubbing little circles on your clit to help ease the pressure from him.
but when you're close, he stops the slow thrusting of his fingers and takes his thumb off. doesn't miss the way your thighs twitch and how you whimper when he pulls his fingers out. "hush, love. you'll get to cum soon enough. don't want you coming from anything but my cock first, though."
with that, he settles with his hips between your thighs again and slowly thrusts his cock against your folds. you feel for the first time just how thick he is, how far he spreads your pussy lips already as he smooths out a path between them. and you watch how far his tip goes up your tummy when he thrusts forward all the way.
"simon," you nervously call out, gripping onto his wrist. he's quick to pause and cups your face again.
"talk to me, love."
the concern in his eyes that lets you know no matter how bad he wants it, that he's willing to drop everything for you tonight if you tell him to stop. it has you making up your mind, trying to squish down the nervous butterflies in your tummy.
"go gentle, okay?"
he smiles, eyes crinkling as he gives you a nod. brings your hand up so he can kiss it and then intertwines his fingers with yours. "always."
he checks to make sure you're still good by playing with your pussy a little more, continuing to rub against you and ensure that your clit is getting the attention it needs. when he asks if it's okay to put it in, you tell him yes. but as he begins to push in, your body locks up and your hand squeezes so tightly on his.
"simon!" you yelp out as your back arches off the bed. he stops immediately, tip barely pushing past your entrance.
"shit, s'fucking tight. thought i stretched you out enough, princess," he says while locking his eyes with the way his cock splits you open at just the barest intrusion. he can see your cream slathering the tip of his dick. "wan' me to stop?"
you take in a deep breath and collect yourself. you're brave enough to try. you want it that badly. "n-no."
"don't think i can keep going without hurting you, baby." he prods his dick at your slit again and thinks of what to do. doesn't think you really want to be fingered again, not when you got this far. he doesn't want to squash your confidence either so he opts for the next best thing. "how 'bout just the tip?"
"just the tip?" you huff out. you look down and see the dripping head of his dick, hiding the full length of his meaty cock at the angle you're looking at. you look back at simon and nod. "okay."
"s'my good girl." he praises you and slowly pushes the tip in again. he bites in a loud groan at the way you squeeze down on him. what a tiny pussy. he feels the head pop in and huffs out a breath, watching to see the way you're reacting. your face is scrunched up in discomfort but you take deep breaths to work through it. deciding to help you, he starts working your clit again. "atta girl. look at you. tip's in this tight fuckin' pussy."
you look down and see that yes, his tip did go into your hole. can feel it too, how it stretches you so widely. you whimper at him when you realize that, unconsciously clenching down around his tip as you focus on the feeling of it. he hisses and grips your hip a little tighter. "move, please, simon?"
and he takes your words as if it were a holy order. allows himself shallow thrusts as he watches his tip pop in and out of your wet pussy. he pants as he watches it and feels the way you squeeze on him so nicely.
"hear tha', sweet girl?" he asks. you focus your ears onto what he might be talking about. and then you moan because you can hear the wet sounds of your pussy every time his cockhead slaps against your slit and stirs your juices around your pussy lips. "mm, s'right. s'all you. pussy so tight, so messy. and it's all mine."
he pinches your clit and it makes your legs squeeze around his hips now. the sensation of him stretching you out with just the tip and how it barely enters you combined with him rolling your clit between his fingers is too much. your eyes roll back and you moan, enjoying the way he plays with your pussy. although it's only the tip, his cock is so long and wide that it feels like it hits you so deep.
every time he pulls the tip back, he can see the messy strings of your juices still connecting him to your pussy. drives him absolutely mad.
"c'mon, baby. feel you clampin' down on me. you gonna cum?" he grunts out as his shallow thrusting becomes faster. you silently praise him for having the self control he does to not go any deeper. but you don't realize that he's become so addicted to just his tip dipping in and out of you. loves the way your pussy engulfs his tip and makes him so slippery.
"mhm," you hum as you look at him with lovesick eyes. "i... i think i'm going to cum." you aren't sure, never having cum around anything before. was it supposed to feel like this? you pant and squeal when he starts abusing your clit, swiping it back and forth. goes between squeezing on it and swiping the underside of your clit with his thumb and using his three fingers to move it back and forth.
and then you're cut off as you gush around him. you cum so much and shut your eyes as he continues to rapidly thrust in and out while you cum. takes a second for you both to realize that your juices has spurted all over your thighs and simon's stomach. he slows himself down as he takes his dick out and starts slapping the head on your clit, making you squirt even more.
you wiggle your hips to try to run from the sensation, but he keeps going and gives himself a couple more shallow thrusts into your pussy before finally pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. you catch your breath as simon slowly pumps his cock.
"i came a lot," you comment as you look at the mess that's slathered over his hips and probably darkening the sheets below you. he hums and looks at you questioningly.
"you ever cum before?" you shake your head no and he has to clear his throat so he can focus on hiding the way his eyes darkened at that. "you didn't just cum, love. you squirted."
your face turns red and you sink back into the pillows behind you. you let out a sheepish, "oh." and simon can't help but chuckle. he shifts his hips and his cock bounces up, letting you know that he's still hard.
"s'alright, love. i liked it a lot. you got another one in you? want to try to make you squirt again like tha'."
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do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere (reblogs welcome!)
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lgbtlunaverse · 2 months
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There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.
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ao3-crack · 1 year
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inkskinned · 9 months
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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lazylittledragon · 7 days
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if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about
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ribbittrobbit · 18 days
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these kids are incredibly stressed out
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hailsatanacab · 4 months
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Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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wonderthor · 2 months
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being whiny and needy with choso
you were the one that woke up extremely horny and touched starved (this time), but being the sweetie pie that he is he let you ride him until you come.
but you can’t.
you’re whining and whimpering because you just can’t get there yet. speeding up, slowing down, moving your hips in so many different ways. none of it is working, but you need to come so bad!
“baby”, he calls out to you, and you look at him with a hint of frustrated tears in your eyes.
“baby, shh just relax for me okay? i got you, let me take care of it, yeah?”, he whispers as he cradles your cheek in his hand.
as soon as you nod, he grips your hips and lifts you up and down on his cock, rolling your hips back and forth in a way that instantly makes your mouth open wide and your head fall back. you brace yourself on his pecs and he momentarily takes one of his hands off of your hips, his other holding a tighter grip to compensate. you look down at him and see that he uses his free hand to pick up one of yours, kissing your palm with his eyes locked on you. then, he holds your hand as he picks up his pace.
your mind was empty as your eyes stayed on his, knowing nothing else but him. you barely were able to think about how strong he was to be able to pick you up and down over and over with only one hand. your orgasm had crept up on you without you even paying attention.
“cho, i’m…it-”
“i know baby, i know. give it to me, please?”
he kisses your knuckles before putting his hand back on your hip, fucking up into you and he pulls you up and down against him. you arch your back and burrow your nails into his chest, holding on tight. your eyes leaving his trance and going back into your skull.
“ohhh fuck!”
he lets one of his thumbs trail over to your clit, rubbing hard and fast.
“that’s it, that’s it baby. please, please give it to me. give it to me, give it to me,” he growled out through clenched teeth.
just that quickly, the coil snapped and you came all over his dick with a loud moan. the intensity of your orgasm spurred his and he came right behind you, filling you up. when you were tired of holding yourself up, he pulled you down to lay on his chest, rubbing your back as your breaths slowly calmed down in harmony.
it was just like that how you both fell asleep.
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ghostbsuter · 13 days
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He'd been flying above Metropolis.
Like a good ghost! Doing nothing but relax! Enjoying the weather, really.
It was so cool, Superman came up to him, they talked even! Superman was very, very, uncomfortable when Danny mentioned he was kinda dead.
It was really awesome.
Yeah, the keypoint being was.
Now? Now he is in Superman's arms, very much alive after being hit by a stray beam from Lex Luthors newest invention, quite literally hit from the sky when he didn't expect it and out of f reflex turned back human.
"I'm... alive?" He jokes weakly, smiling awkwardly at Superman's stare.
Danny considered this awkward.
Clark was processing the fact Lex Luthor somehow managed to bring back someone from death, his hands now full of said miracle and—
Shit, does the kid even have family left? What's he going to tell Lois!?
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becca-e-barnes · 7 months
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Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.
Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …
- 🍯
Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍��
"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."
With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.
Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.
"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"
As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.
"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.
You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.
"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.
You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.
Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.
"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.
"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.
"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.
"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."
Update: Part 2
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bluerosefox · 7 months
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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
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shehzadi · 5 months
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so israel simultaneously bombed: an ambulance convoy going to the rafah egypt-palestine border that was transporting the most severely injured, the main entrance to al-shifa hospital, the vicinity of al-quds hospital and the indonesian hospital. in doing so, they’ve martyred at least dozens of people, with the numbers still climbing, only to then bomb the osama bin zaid UNRWA school barely an hour later, and the scenes coming out of there are literally those of children blown to pieces. they are unrecognisable as humans. may Allah accept them all as martyrs. and if that wasn’t enough, al-shifa, which is now completely overwhelmed with martyrs’ bodies and even more injured people than before since it’s sheltering and treating those from 1. the ambulance bombing and 2. the entrance bombing, is now totally blacked out. no more light or electricity.
while all this was happening in ghazzah, israeli settlers, aided by the israeli military, were/have been continuously forcing palestinians from their land in the west bank by burning their land and shooting palestinians.
this is only what has happened today (03.11.23) in a period of about 2-3 hours. remember, this has been the last 75 years for palestinians.
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glo-shroom · 27 days
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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul
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katabay · 2 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...
the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin
this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.
you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.
also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.
⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!
⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
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