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goldenpinof · 7 months

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why? bc i was thinking about what i watch and what i'd like to see from dan, basically what you said to the previous anon. in late 2018 (at the end of the dan and phil era coincidentally) my taste shifted a lot from mostly comedy and vloggers to video essays and comentary so personally i'd love to see something like that from dan, but i have no idea what dan wants to do. what do you think he wants to do? what's something he'll find fulfilling and sustainable?

i'm going insane reading all these asks about what's next for dan's career. i lobe him i want him to succeed, i want him to get attention and i want to be entertained by him <3

me 🤝 you

sustainable? this is UNSUSTAINABLE!! (sorry, the last promo got in the eyes).

i think he wants (or wanted before wad) to get into stand-up comedy. at some point he proclaimed himself a comedian and started acting like one. unsuccessfully, in my opinion. he is a bad actor, but he is good at exaggerating his feelings. and this is why wad show worked for those who were familiar with Dan, his content, his internet personality and the phandom. i think he loves attention from real life audience, and he loves connecting to the audience while being on stage, so audience participation is an important part of what he wants. (let's count how many times i say "audience"). a not-so-strict script that allows to ask questions, react to answers, comment on people's reactions, make faces, laugh randomly, adjust the show to what is happening on stage – that's a stand-up show that hundreds of people are doing. and i think Dan would be very fucking good at it. the problem is the theme of said stand-up. and i think Dan would love for it to not rely on youtube as heavily as it did during wad (which wasn't an actual stand-up comedy).

remember the last vidcon he attended and the panel that felt like a Ted Talk? it was a fail, i'd say. partly because the audience was too diverse in a sense that phannies weren't the majority. and i'm glad he didn't push this type of career path. wad was so much better, but it was also targeted at the people who already knew him. even if in the beginning i think he was trying to get a wider audience, the lack of funding or enthusiasm promo-wise made it impossible for the "outsiders" to make the experience strange for everyone, Dan including. wad happened to be for us. but was it successful or fulfilling, or sustainable? no. not in a money / audience growth / similar future tours ways. there should be done a lot of changes. and i guess completely changing his management was the 1st and very important step. it was fulfilling in a way that he met us, he saw what his coming out did and what an incredible impact he had on us (not to mention that ii was almost the same. a bunch of gays gathered together).

he clearly wants something bigger than we aka phandom can give him. and for that he must change the theme or/and concept of his shows. i do think that he will try to do a performance again. and i hope it's gonna be less acting and more improvisation.

i'm not sure about a filmed show. he sucks as an actor, and i don't want him to fail :( but if Joey Graceffa successfully put out Escape the Night and Liza Koshy had a series that didn't require more acting than her own skits, maybe something similar could be alright?! "danisnotokay" is an outdated title though. we need to change it, he is not 25 anymore, come on.

basically, he loves attention, complaining about his life, trauma dumping, edgy jokes, screaming, laughing, sex jokes, feeling liked, loved and wanted. he fucking beams when people applaud him. and for that he needs audience. he could get all of it minus an applause with a podcast or livestreams, but he is a stubborn asshole, so i do hope to see him on stage again. preferably a smaller one and with new topics to discuss.

#you didn't ask so it's here #i would love to see commentary from him on topics that he cares about and knows #even if i don't care are the topic #like swell entertainment does. she talks about things i don't know or care. but it's done so good. informative. fun and well.. entertaining #that i just click on the video anyway. even if it's about a brand that makes square food. i don't give a fuck about the brand but i watch.#and dan's liveshows makes me think that he would be very good at presenting what he is interested in in a commentary way #don't touch things you don't know (football for example 🔪) and talk about things you actually familiar with #dan #wad #phandom #answered #imagine phil makes him return to regular joint content when we already collectively buried it 💀#i would laugh for a week

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months

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fang i couldn't find ur meta blog but i wanted to ask ur opinion/analysis of bakugou's "what part of her was frail" from season one against ochako if u have any <3

@fangs-animereview thought i havent posted anything on it in ages.. rip all my half-baked hxh meta posts about shounen trope subversions

i dont know if i have any particular analysis of that but i do think that scene highlights an interesting element of bkgs character which is that he is decidedly not very shallow

i think often his arrogance or projected arrogance makes his fandom image a guy who is shallowly obsessed with appearances. but i think for him to say what part of her was frail kind of speaks to the fact that the opposite is true. that bkg doesn't see people as their appearance but measures them by what they're capable of

#return to sender #people always write bakugou to be this arrogant and shallow wad which is such an interesting projection of his character #because even at the worst of his arc at the beginning #his obsession with deku didn't have as much to do with deku being quirkless as it did with deku himself #bakugou used dekus quirklessness against him but i dont believe that it was really bc of that #he just. was deeply intimidated by dekus character and pointed out his weakness #but that speaks to the fact that bakugou is an immensely good judge of character #he sees people specifically for their quality and capabilities #and ochako isnt the first or last example of this #he does this with shindo yo and accurately assessing him as a fake and shallow snake. and again #when he's talking to kirishima pointing out how his greatest strength is being a wall and encouraging him #and again in season five where he utilizes the individual talents of his team to win the training match #bkg sees people as their qualities before he sees their appearances #so this projected idea that he would care about appearances is truly very bonkers to me lol #katsuki <3 #its one of those things about bkg i love very much tbh

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exclamaquest · 2 years

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ALSOOO since you apparently know nothing about this character, her racism isn't referring to sonia. it's how she calls non-japanese foreigners "uncultured pigs," "worthless," and "stupid animals" and follows up a sentence about loving Japanese traditionalism with "I seriously love stomping on disgusting things". her FTEs obviously demonstrate that this is a Japanese-supremacist character and idk if you're just ignorant or willfully avoiding them

Do you know what being aware and critical of a character's actions and beliefs while still liking them is or are you stupid

#when have i EVER said she didnt do anything wrong...........Can you read ?#theo.ask #anon #dr #NOT ONLY THAT shes like. very much still a fully fledged character...? who is interesting?#it is so funny how you think i know nothing about her. do not cite the deep magic to me i was there when it wad written

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natalieironside · 5 months

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So I used to be a pizza deliver driver, and that was pretty great for me; it made me feel like a video game character doing Quests. And when you started your shift as a driver, you got a wad of 15 singles for making change which was deducted from your tips at the end of the night. And this was back in the very early 20teens so $15 American just so happened to also be the price of half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds, so it was often also a sort of interest-free loan.

Now, a trope in pornography which was once so common that I myself have never actually seen a genuine portrayal of it but only seen it parodied runs thusly: A brave hero is delivering a pizza to some beautiful person who, upon receipt of the pizza, says, "Unfortunately I don't have any money; could I perhaps cover the cost of the pizza with sexual favors?" And always the hero agrees to this Faustian bargain which I'm sure must seem quite reasonable to you uninitiated civilians.

But, see, I'm making minimum wage. I have no savings. And I already spent my bank on half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds. So I'm $15 in the hole, and do you know what happens when you don't cash out at the end of the night? The manager calls the cops, and the cops come to your house. Mr. Domino is gonna get his $15 back by hook or by crook. I seen it happen. So if I accept the beautiful person's modest proposal, I'm mortgaging future tips against the $15 *and* the price of the pizza--which can get up there, depending on the order--and if I don't fix those books by the end of my shift, that could get to be a real pain in my ass.

Just doesn't make sense, y'know, from like a business perspective. Maybe it'd be worth a gamble. Maybe if it was like a beautiful woman who was a service top and also a werewolf, maybe you roll the dice and hope for the hard 6. But you gotta be risk-aware, is all I'm sayin.

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headspace-hotel · 4 months

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there are SO many witchcraft books in the barnes and noble's. Including lots of herb and plant books. And I feel that it's in everyone's best interest to inform that "witchy" herbalism is just, like, a wad of Eurocentric plant symbolism, Eurocentric medicinal plant stuff and random bullshit mixed together, and you don't have to buy something marketed as "witchcraft" to learn all the stuff with greater accuracy

Especially if you're not in Europe, it doesn't make sense to learn about plants that either don't grow in your area or have a totally different role in the ecosystem in your area. Plant symbolism and "meaning" generally is connected to a real quality about the plant. It becomes nonsense if you remove it from the specific ecological context

Also, i find it really funny how a lot of "herbalism" stuff on like pinterest is just about mostly common kitchen herbs and spices and doesn't discuss very many actual commonly used medicinal plants throughout history...because those can kill you or give you the worst most traumatizing trip of your life

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bonewreath · 1 month

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.

cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here

Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.

It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth.

Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before.

The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.

“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.

“What are you having?”

The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her.

“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”

Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her.

You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again.

“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”

“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own.

At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can.

Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”

Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response.

“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass.

“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying.

“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”

Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”

“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”

“For one, I’m gay.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead.

“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with.

“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”

The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement.

“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“I can’t dance.”

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving.

“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind.

Ellie’s in awe of you.

The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you.

Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve.

On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.

After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra.

“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing.

“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her.

“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.”

Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.”

“You sure?”

Ellie nods.

“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry.

Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.

“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip.

You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?

So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.

“God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms.

“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”

She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”

“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”

Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal.

You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words.

“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching.

You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”

“Need more,” Ellie pants out.

“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”

So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.

“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”

You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.

While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead.

“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile.

“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.

You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”

“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”

Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body.

“Need something?”

Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.”

“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”

Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing.

“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”

And who are you to deny her what she needs?

As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs.

“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans.

“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further.

“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly.

“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy.

That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion.

“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.

You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.”

She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again.

“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.

“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.”

Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”

“Just for me?” You grin.

“Mm, just for you.”

Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…

You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after.

“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it.

“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess.

So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.

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i-cant-sing · 4 months

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I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

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lexyeevee · 11 months

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it's wild to see myhouse having escaped the orbit of Doom People, because so much of it specifically riffs on doom in a way that is laser-targeted at Doom People, to the point that i just wouldn't have expected it to be nearly as interesting if you don't pick up on that stuff

right from the outset, "my house" is even a recognizable genre, because doom was among the first approachable platforms for creating a 3D space, and if you give random people the ability to create a 3D space then many of them will just try to recreate their own house. (i want to say jp lebreton even made an effort to play through every house map on the idgames archive at one point, though hell if i can find it now.) there was in fact already a "myhouse.wad", from 1995!

frankly it's incredible that someone (or someones) put so much effort into this map and then had the gall to simply post it on doomworld as "myhouse.wad", because that is a thread title that guarantees the fewest possible people will bother to look. there are posts in the thread where people outright admit that they only checked because they were surprised how many replies a "my house" wad got.

so anyway, okay, the "classic" doom wad experience is that you download a wad, it contains exactly 1 map, and it has zero custom textures or music or other frills. most wads from the 90s are like this; if you're lucky you might get a bad midi rendition of a metallica song. nowadays there are texture artists and musicians and everything collaborating on full map packs, but "just a map" is still kind of the default mapping experience and is recognizable to anyone who's been around doom for sufficiently long.

and myhouse riffs on absolutely every aspect of this:

• the music is the MAP01 music, Running From Evil, which is just the music you get if you supply your own map in the MAP01 slot and do nothing else. so a ton of 90s maps had this same track as their background music, so everyone has heard it a zillion times. it is ingrained into so many people's skulls. subtly fucking with it is a great way to fuck with the player

• the house uses only stock doom 2 textures, or occasionally light modifications of them. again this is just what you get if you make a map and don't supply any other resources, so the stock textures are very familiar. only later, with sufficient poking around, does the map introduce new textures, which really help sell the impression of being swept away to Somewhere Else

• if you take the exit, you go to MAP02, Underhalls. this is the expected experience because doom wads replace what's already there — you're not really supplying a "new map pack" or anything, you're overwriting a map from the original doom 2 progression. (there are ways to fiddle with this now, but in vanilla doom 2, the level progression was hardcoded.) so the "ending" of a no-frills single-map wad is always, always to transition to Underhalls. the opening shot of Underhalls is practically like seeing the credits. so roping Underhalls into the experience is completely unexpected, because Underhalls is the sign that you've escaped back to regular doom

• the super shotgun is "hidden" in Underhalls, in probably the best-known super shotgun location in the whole game, because it's the first time you can get it

• incidentally Underhalls itself feels uncanny, because the player camera height is higher than usual to make the house's proportions feel sensible. (part of the trouble with exact recreations of real spaces in doom is that the camera is weirdly low.) i was actually convinced that myhouse included a modified Underhalls, but no, it's stock doom 2 Underhalls, it just feels off when you're slightly taller

but wait, there's more

• silent teleporters are a feature from boom, a very early doom derivative that added a number of helpful mapping features and is basically considered only half a step beyond vanilla. so shifting between two versions of a space without interruption isn't completely unexpected. it's only later that the portal use becomes more obvious

• although if you're especially canny, you should notice that the second version of the house shows both the upstairs and downstairs windows in full, which is impossible — doom cannot do room-over-room. (in fact this is accomplished with a semi-obscure zdoom feature called sector portals — essentially, the whole second floor and the space outside it are a separate area, and the "ceiling" of the yard becomes a view up through the "floor" of that second space.)

• swinging doors are a hexen feature (polyobjects) that gzdoom inherited. (heretic and hexen were modifications of the doom engine, and zdoom started out as a merge of all three codebases into something that could play all three games.) they might also be in other fancy engines (eternity?), but they are very distinctly not a doom thing. if you're deeply familiar with doom's limitations then they'll jump out at you immediately, but if you're looking at doom like it's any old 3D game then maybe not so much

• recreations of other humble real-world locales are also a somewhat common theme, and remind me in particular of Doom City, from way back in 1995

• a very common desire for players is to "uv-max" a map, i.e. reach the exit on ultra-violence with 100% kills and secrets. if you can't do this, the map is (reasonably) considered broken. it is comically impossible to do this in myhouse, and anyone with the skill to create the map would be acutely aware of this

• the extra weapon frames look to be borrowed from the well-known smooth doom, which adds extra frames for everything and is just pretty dang slick overall. so it's not merely "ho ho, got you, smoother weapons" but specific integration of another familiar project

• this might be reaching a bit, but mirrors are specifically a nightmare in zdoom's software renderer because they work by rendering all visible geometry as if it were physically present on the other side of the mirror — and if there be any actual geometry back there, it will also get rendered and you will have a big fucking mess. so a mirror in the middle of a room is a laughable idea. this is somewhat less of a concern now that the hardware renderer is basically the default, but it's still a spectre looming over the very concept of mirrors, so the way mirrors play out in myhouse is very funny to me

there's probably more, like, the way it intercepts noclip is a stroke of genius and not something i've ever seen done before. but i hope you get the idea

#doom #myhouse.wad

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hannieehaee · 3 months

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hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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astralnymphh · 1 month

Text

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ thinking about the first night at ellie's place ever since you two began dating. girl will bust her ass off preparing to host you there— in the entertainment department of things. fluff!!

. MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO . BIG TEXT VERSION

she heaps up a myriad of her favorite pastimes in a kaleidoscopic pile on her bed, assuming the waken hours preluding the "main event" (sleeping) will integrate every little thing pre-planned. legit jots a loose schedule of everything she wants to do in a sequestered corner of her journal, and it's surrounded by detailed doodles (that we dare not discuss how long she spent perfecting them) of shooting stars and other cartoony likenesses of paraphernalia or things that you're interested in/remind her of you. spends a fat wad of the initial hours urging you into every activity based on, quote for quote: "ellie's epic design for her first night-over with her girlfriend in hopes that she doesn't mess things up" proof is in the notebook, trust. word for word. anyways, ellie legit believes she can usher you into each thing planned, like, come rain or come shine— everything will be mentioned. bit erratically if anything, poor girl has her nerves amped up since it's her first time having you over, the unfolding of opportunities is unpredictable. shit like, "hey babe i got us a two-player video game." and then it gradually gets more jumpy, "oh, oh yeah, i wanted to sketch you, wait— c'mere, sit on the bed." and thereon it transforms out of the blue, "ughhhh i'm so tired." and she flops back onto the bed exaggeratedly like starfish position, eaglespread limbs and everything. then you clamber on afterwards and pronto you have to confront her, softly for her enervated brain to pick up, "el, did you have some bucket list of things to do in one night?" and her head creaks over like snail-speed, cartoonesque metal grating noise, and her expression is all bug-eyed and flatlined at the lip, sighing kinda guilty but in a silly way, "yeah, uh. shit, was that obvious?" god she's so CUTE. and then it ends up in a really romantic cuddle session where you two just let the conversation take its natural course without any locus of "this is what we're going to do" rather it becomes, "let's listen to what our bodies want to do" and i think that's just very sentimental!!! listening to her instincts to carress and hold you!!! "y'know, like, the first time i kissed you— i kinda wanted to do something like this right after. lay in the grass n' like.. hug eachother.. and stare up." maybe i'll expand on the nature of the cuddle session if people want it. ౨ৎ

love this girl (my photos)

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams concept

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goldenpinof · 1 year

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I'm beginning to think we're never gonna see the last "episode" of dystopia daily. only 2 tour dates left and one of them is sold out? he doesn't need it for promo and if he did he should have started uploading the parts at least 2 weeks ago right? unless he's been re-editing them to remove all the tour promo bits and he's gonna post them after the tour is over, maybe?

yes. that's my theory since Berlin show. he's editing promo segments out. i think initially there was a promo with Iceland included and if it was verbal, he should cut it out (the thing he didn't do with his last reel and Warsaw). that would delay the video. but also the memes video delayed the last 4 dd videos as well. it's so overwhelming to explain but i do have some sort of vision of the timeline. idk why it should have been so far postponed because of Louise but i don't think that right now she is the main problem. (unless it's not Louise's collab at all).

he mentioned dd videos in the memes video, right? so he's planning to upload them at least to cover (some) expenses with ad revenue. but i think back in the beginning of February he already realized that he fucked up with time management, and now he's waiting till the end of the tour to peacefully upload it in March. i agree with you that for promo purposes he should have uploaded the memes video in mid-January and started uploading dd 2-3 (more like 3-4) weeks ago. but alas! marketing just doesn't work with this tour.

(also, *i cannot fucking shut up* if the whole episode, aka 4 videos, was filmed before (or around) the episode with Dodie, i wonder if he has to edit it to make it go smoothly with already uploaded episodes that were filmed after Louise's. so they wouldn't contradict each other time-wise)

#it's interesting like he just stopped caring at some point #and we know it. he made us aware #i'm kinda glad that he said 'fuck it' before iceland got cancelled. because imagine pushing yourself with dd only to promote the last leg..#and then get the closing show cancelled in the middle of promo #that's basically what happened anyway :)))) *kill me*#but one thing is a promo in an image format on ig. and a completely different thing is a video #although uploaded videos can be edited on youtube if nothing has changed #so it depends on how he has intended to / has put promo materials in dd videos #very interesting #wad 2022 #dd #answered

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evielmostdefinitely · 1 month

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I would love see the first time that “excentric” aspect of they relationship started. Like how Coryo punishment her for the first time, She know what will happened? They talk about? And how she feel with that? Afraid ? Turn on ? Jealousy in think that probaly he did this with someone else ? Sorry if i wrote something wrong, english is not my first language

closer to the darkness |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, the dark backstory that led to you and coriolanus' exciting sex life.

contains: very very VERY DARK undertones. mentions prostitution and the exploitation that occurs in the capitol. public sex with undertones of slight humiliation. very very dark coriolanus. slightly manipulative and obsessive coriolanus. bdsm themes. dom!coryo x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. oral (fem receiving). overall very dark smut. minors dni.

A simple invite, passed to him by the sly smirk of a classmate. “Snow,” Dennis hissed lowly, pencil tapping on the page of a book, eyes cutting to watch for the librarian. “A couple of us are going to The Underground tonight. Are you coming?”

Coriolanus blinked, face staying stoic, unreadable. He didn’t particularly like the boys in his class, not now anymore than years before. He found the civilness of their polite conversation to be useless now- now that he had you.

“I’m busy.” Coriolanus dismissed. He had no interest in going to their gambling billiards room or whatever this club was.

“Oh, come on.” Dennis grinned, head ducking low. “You can leave the Duke girl for a night. She won’t mind anyways. Her brothers are always there. You’ll be in kept company.”

Coriolanus perked at the mention. Your brothers, the two elder Duke boys that he hadn’t yet charmed the way he had your father and mother. A necessity to secure their approval. He knew they’d run the family business, already high up in the family ranks. If he planned to go forth with his game ideas, he’d need their investment.

That drove him to cancel his plans with you, a half-hearted excuse about studying, offering to spend the weekend with you instead. He joined the boys of his class, socialites and aristocrats alike, all wearing their family’s name like a badge of honor. Coriolanus followed them towards the luxury end of the Capitol, secluded and reserved for only the best of the Capitol goers, exclusion even in the highest class.

Coriolanus twisted the wad of cash in his pocket, hoping he could remember enough to pass at the roulette tables. “Here,” Dennis hummed, passing the small, black mask to Coriolanus when the doorman let them in.

“What’s this?” Coriolanus muttered, twisting the mask in his hands.

“Just part of it. I’m sure it helps the others feel their identity is well protected.” Dennis shrugged, tying the silk ends to the back of his head, eyes accentuated with the harsh black contrast of the material.

They gamble openly during the games, but are worried here? Coriolanus thought, fighting back an eye roll. Instead, he fastened the material, following the string of people through the darkened hallways. It felt far from luxurious, more like the burrows and halls he’d sneak with Lucy Gray back in District Twelve.

His mind wandered back to hers, furiously shaking her from his thoughts. He needed to be sharp, alert. Coryo had already decided he’d stumble into your brothers, hopeful he could still find them with the masks, that he’d sit at the right roulette table.

Coriolanus stilled when there was no table. No green velvet lined table with dice and cigar smoke, no liquor or Avoxes roaming about. No, instead, there was a small, circular stage with a single row of chairs surrounding it.

“Snow,” Dennis nudged his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. “We’re over here.”

Coryo followed him, thankful for the mask, hoping it would conceal his wandering eyes. What was this place? A stage in the middle, nothing else. Coriolanus’ chest tightened with fear, grim curiosity perhaps as he settled into his seat. All around him, men with masks, chatting with each other, all nearly identical in the dim light of the room.

“I heard they found her from Eleven.” The boy, Lucios, beside Dennis grinned.

“I’m quite bored of the homely looking girls. They always look frightened, like caged animals being led to slaughter.” Dennis rolled his eyes in boredom. “I wish they’d bring in another girl from One. They always know how to put on the best shows.”

“I’d even settle for Two.” Lucios cackled in a droning posh tone, waving over for his drink. “Maybe Three.”

“It wouldn’t even be a real girl from Three. A hologram.” Dennis laughed. “As long as it isn’t Twelve or Ten, they always have the worst smell.” He snarled, eyes cutting to Coriolanus, who was rigidly watching the interaction.

Dennis frowned, lips parting with a question, the trilling of a bell silencing him and everyone around them. All settling into their seats, quiet and still. Coryo’s heart beat so loudly it was deafening in his ears. Eyes scanning the room, he caught a glimpse of your brothers on the other side, eyes meeting only for a moment before the room fell dark. Completely pitch black, Coriolanus swallowed his rising panic, fists balling.

It was a set up, a conspiracy to get him here, kill him. Of course they’d want to, they wanted you all for their own. Dennis had commented on you weeks ago, congratulated him behind bared teeth. How could he be so stupid? How could he not see?

A single light blinded him, body tensing at the sudden intrusion of light spilling above the stage. Underneath the beam, a man stood. His face was concealed entirely by a red mask that covered all his features, dressed in appropriate but dark wear, but with gloves that matched his mask. Next to him, a girl kneeling in a collar, and just a collar. Her face not covered, oh no, Coriolanus could see every line of fear, shine of terror though she tried to hide it.

“Gentlemen,” The man’s voice was loud, even through the muffling of the mask it rang through the silent room. “Tonight our guest from Nine.” His gloved hand ran over her tied hair, and Coriolanus didn’t miss the way she shivered, biting her lip in fear.

Coriolanus watched in eerie intrigue as the man brought her to a small bench like contraption, making a large show of securing her arms and legs, so she was left spread, vulnerable to the audience to see the most intimate parts of her.

Coriolanus’ chest burned, maybe with fear, maybe with something else. Your brothers were here, here. He hoped they hadn’t seen him, stomach turning with the fear of what you’d do if you found out- fear that you’d leave him. The man on stage’s droning words fell deaf on his ears, mind racing with a plan, a plan to leave before they’d see you. He couldn’t see the row on the other side because of the light, so he hoped they couldn’t see him.

His thoughts were stopped by a single cutting whistle of wood through the air, walloping onto skin with a resounding smack! followed by a muffled cry.

“In the dark times, far before the dark times, since nearly the beginning of time, there have been many forms of debauchery that have been used to cause excitement.” The man droned dramatically, twisting a leather paddle in his hand.

He tapped the girl’s left bottom cheek, before bringing his arm back, sending the paddle soaring onto her ass again. Coriolanus jumped slightly at the impact, mind dumbly blank of the worries from before. Nearly trance-like, watching the man paddle the girl, how she cried pathetically, how her flesh turned, blossoming with marks.

“There has always been a power imbalance.” The man continued, letting the paddle rub teasingly over her body. “There have always been the powerful, the helpless. Those who are in charge, those who are submissive- completely at the mercy of your cruelness, of your control.”

Coriolanus felt his pants tent, blood rushing from his head down to his throbbing cock. The man stalked, heavy footsteps that echoed in the room, back between the girl's legs. “There is a need for order. Even in intimacy.” He hummed, bringing the paddle down twice, two snapping flicks of his wrist.

Coriolanus swallowed, spit pooling in his mouth at the cries the girl gave. The man scanned the room, setting the paddle on her backside, slowly taking off a glove. Coriolanus leant forward, watching the man with intense intrigue.

“Because as we all know, there is pleasure in power.” The man boomed, his hand disappearing between the girl’s legs. A gasp ghosting on the edge of pleasure filled the room, her back arching at the sensation that was hidden from Coriolanus’ view, his eyes narrowing for a better view.

Coryo’s face blushed deeply, burning with excitement when the man’s fingers lifted, covered in sticky arousal from the girl that webbed his fingers. “And as you can see, there is pleasure in pain as well.” Though his face was hidden, Coriolanus could hear the smug smirk of his voice.

“My darling guest here is one who enjoys such pain, which is why she’s chosen to serve the Capitol and offer her services.” The man continued, wiping her release on his pants. “For the night, the rates bidding starts at a high price since she can only be shared once.”

Coriolanus slipped out when the bidding started, the lights dimming enough for him to see the exit. He walked furiously down the streets of the Capitol, throwing the mask furiously on the ground. Still, his cock throbbed, stirred to life, not at the girl but at the idea. The idea that you would be tied up, tilt that power to him entirely, be at his mercy and command.

He’d brain his throbbing cock as the reason his thoughts were scattered, why he showed up at your penthouse.

“I thought you were studying- oh!” You squeaked, letting the door fall with a snap shut, Coriolanus’ hands on your waist, kissing you with feverish hunger.

“I missed you.” Coriolanus rasped, your heart swelling at the words. “I couldn’t wait until this weekend. I had to see you. Had to taste you.”

Your knees wobbled at the words, tensing with excitement. You could feel his stiff cock on your hip, ignoring the way he rubbed himself into your hip, letting him settle between your legs. You were surprised when his plush lips pressed to the inside of your thighs, hot breath ghosting over your clothed pussy. Your fingers tangled through his hair when his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, lapping and suckling.

Coriolanus knew what to do, what he needed to do to get you brainless, pliant before he’d suggest such a proposal. So he let you pull at his hair, let you tug at the roots while you whined and cried out, bucking beneath him as his tongue worked you open.

“I want to try something.” Coriolanus hovered above your sprawled out frame, slack and limp against the rustled sheets. His eyes were dark, looking down at you from the slope of his nose- it sent a shiver right through your already trembling frame. “If you’re willing.”

Brain still foggy from the previous orgasms, you nodded lazily. Of course you did, it was like clockwork to Coryo, all a part of his plan. “You always enjoy it so much when I’m rough with you,” Coryo began, biting back a smirk at how you blushed, body folding shyly into itself at his words. “I want to try something a little… more.”

“I don’t much care for torture.” You frowned, lips pulling in a scowl.

“I would never torture you, darling.” Coryo smiled softly, a small shake of his head that had you relaxing. “I think you’ll find this more pleasurable than painful.”

He had you over his thigh after a short amount of coaxing. Legs on either side of his thigh, body resting on the silk sheets behind him. He alternated sharp smacks to your ass that left you squealing, lifting in tense alert at the sensation only for his hand to slip back between your thighs, tease and pleasure you until you melted back onto his thigh. Until his spanks were met with pathetic whimpers of pleasure, rubbing yourself shamelessly on his thigh.

It was only the beginning. The very start of the shift in power for the two of you. First in the bedroom, then out in the world.

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

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Hello there I have another questionable idea 😁

So 141 confusing reader home for a safe house and breaking in and the sleep deprived nurse reader is just like 😐 and patches them up cos they are hurt and that’s the start of an very interesting relationship

Thank you for everything you are doing and remember that you are amazing

Drink water not coffee

🎃anon

Pumpkin! Ohh so this is similar vibes to this which I never wrote because sometimes I love a concept but am rubbish with execution :')

I have, however, tried my best to give you a little bit of your ask <3

Hippocratic Oath

Words: 550

Nah, for real if someone was breaking in you didn't care but they could at least be fucking quiet about it so you could go back to sleep. You had not slept in an actual bed in fucking days, only catching what could barely be described as a nap in the cots at the hospital between emergencies.

“Find a first aid kit, we need to get him stable!”

Oh come on. The people robbing you were injured? Stupid fucking hippocratic oath. Technically it said nothing about having to help people who had broken into your house, it just said you couldn't harm them. So if you laid here and ignored it then Apollo couldn't say shit.

…God fucking damnit. You dragged yourself out of bed, honestly too tired to react to the gun pointed at you with anything but a withering look, and went to pull the first aid supplies from their place.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“This is my house skull mask, who the fuck are you?”

There was a man with a mohawk bleeding all over your couch. You grumbled about that a little but dutifully knelt by him and started to cut the clothes around the problem area so you could clean it out and stitch him up. A heavy tactical vest was on the floor, leaving him in just a t-shirt. The other young man was pushing a wad of bandages to stem the bleeding. Good, he was doing a good job.

Kyle looked at Price who only furrowed his eyebrows and nodded, giving him permission to follow your instructions. So that's what he did.

“We get a bonnie medic with safehouses these days Captain? Cannae say I'm complaining.”

“Shush or you'll wind up biting your tongue off when I do the stitches” you said, prepping the needle and thread.

You looked quickly around his get up, seeing he was wearing jeans with a belt and undoing it.

“I've definitely seen a movie like this” the skull mask man said which you elected to ignore.

“Tell me more LT.”

You shoved the belt in the man's mouth and he took it between his teeth immediately. Not his first rodeo then. Made sense, they were probably soldiers. He was a model patient as you stitched him up, not squirming at all.

Your focus overrode your exhaustion for long enough to give each of the others a once over, making sure there wasn't anything else serious you needed to treat. By the time you got to the last man, the one your patient had called Captain, you were completely dead on your feet and your eyes were starting to sting.

“Thanks luv, c'mere.”

Being scooped up by some military man who had broken into your house really should have caused some sort of fight or flight response, but you had nothing else left to give. You were asleep before he even made it to the bedroom, putting you right back under the blankets.

–

Your alarm never went off and you frantically called in to work to let them know you'd be there as soon as possible only to be told in no uncertain terms you were on leave for at least the next week.

It was with some shock that you emerged from your room to find that dream wasn't as much of a dream as you thought.

“Let's have a little chat about the next week hm luv?”

Ah fuck.

#mhairianswers #mhairiwrites #cod #tf 141 x reader

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layyeschips · 1 year

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Debt paid (with interest!)

Danny is all about fairness and equality, and no we're not talking about gender but he stands for that too, we're talking about favours. It's a known universal law that all spirits MUST return the favour if a human happens to aid them in any way be it intentional or not. Most spirits hate giving back favours and even more love ripping off humans by granting them half-assed wishes that the human didn't even mean to wish for. Maybe it's because Danny was a human once that he tends to try and repay favours as equal as the ones he's received as possible or more. This means there's no limit to how big or small of a favour that he gives.

A child offers him some candy at the park and a few days later the mother of the child wonders just how on earth did the kid get a huge stick of cotton candy after she said no

A man fights off a bunch of drunkards who were picking on Danny who reminded him of his son and the next time he was being robbed, a brick falls out of nowhere and hits the robber in the head knocking them out cold

A homeless person who mistook him for a struggling homeless teen and shared some food despite struggling themselves finds a whole wad of vouchers they could use to get food, clothes and blankets that would last them for months

A shy closeted lesbian teenager who lends an ear and gives Danny some advice finds herself confident enough and full of courage to finally come out to her family who were accepting and still loving to her no matter who she loves

They all feel the same thing whenever a favour is repaid. Satisfaction and content, the feeling of something being complete, a contract fulfilled.

Now here comes (batsibling of your choice) or in this case Red Hood saving Danny from who knows what effectively gaining a favour from the ghost king but wait a minute this bat feels very similar to a very attractive dead-but-not-really neighbour of his. Cue Danny tying up a beat up Joker with a green ribbon and presenting him to Red Hood and the next day asking Jason out on a date.

not sure what made me come up with this scenario but something about Danny giving a beat up Joker to Jason as a courting gift has me giggling like a teenager

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #dc comics #danny fenton #dc universe #dp x dc crossover #batfam #red hood #jason todd

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princessbrunette · 3 months

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Rafe with a reader who's known around as being a tease, all talk. I feel like he wouldn't like it very much

s1 rafe again bc for some reason im obsessed w him lately

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

he’s heard about you. a tease, as they call it — always flirting, batting your eyelashes up at every guy and then never putting out. no one was quite sure what kind of sick game you were playing, attracting the eyes of many at every kook gathering or country club outing but rafe was intrigued. not enough to do anything about it, but enough to watch from a far and ponder.

but you wanted rafe, and all his attention — which is why you’re sat right up next to him on a couch at some stuffy mansion party, watching him cut coke for one of his friends. youre practically pressed to his side, and he’s barely giving you the time of day, only making you want him more.

the only reason you turned down all those guys was because you only wanted him. even flirty girls like yourself could gain hardcore crushes, and now he was right by your side it felt like it was going nowhere.

“what you want, huh? you after somethin’ free? coke?” he glances at you, simultaneously waving to one of his friends across the room. you pout, not even able to hold his focus. luckily for you, your tipsiness made you more bold. bold and horny.

“m’interested in you.” you thumb at the sleeve of his polo, sulky and childishly begging for his attention. he laughs, eyes creasing at the side and at first you don’t even know if it was directed at you, until he turns his head— dropping the expression to something faux-serious, wide eyes and parted lips.

“oh yeah? me and the 50 other poor suckers you’re stringin’ along?” he teases and you shake your head, watching as his pal lifts his head from snorting the white lines, sliding a wad of cash across the table through the residue. rafe picks it up, starting to count it.

“you know i never actually do anything with those guys…” you defend.

“so i heard.” he turns back to you, cash fanned between two hands. “and you’ve chosen me tonight as your next victim. y’not gonna get so lucky there, sweetheart.”

“why not?” you couldn’t believe how pathetic you sounded, and maybe you were a masochist because something about the way he was the one controlling the conversation instead of you for once felt good.

“‘cus i’m not an idiot.” he folds the cash, pulling a clip out of his pocket and clipping the wad— shoving it deep into his pocket as he sends a parting smile to the customer. “what do you actually— i mean actually want from me?”

you look up at him beneath your lashes, a doll like appearance to your demure pout. damn, he thinks— you’re good at this.

“i’m just attracted to you rafe. wanted to talk to you. if you’re not interested just tell me. no need to embarrass me.”

he stares at you for a moment, and he kind of feels himself feel a little nagging guilt at his chest which he doesn’t appreciate. he sighs, shifting his body a little more towards you and pinches your jaw, making you look at him. it’s not a super rough gesture, but you blink in surprise anyway and the feeling goes straight to your pussy.

“and what’s gonna happen if we go upstairs to talk some more, hm?” he challenges making you swallow hard, never having felt needier for someone you’ve only had around seven fleeting conversations with in your life.

“w—we can get to know eachother and then maybe… can get to know other parts of you…” you admit, somehow shyly despite being such a floozy with other men. it fills him with pride at the fact he’s brought that side out of you, that is if that side is real of course.

he looks down at his crotch and back up at you suggestively. such a boy, you shouldn’t like it this much. “n’what about when i pull it out, huh? y’gonna run away?” he speaks lower, quieter, he’s talking about his dick to you in the middle of this party and you’re stupidly wet.

your lips part, eyes glancing at his mouth like you can’t contain yourself and your throat even trembles with the quietest mewl, relishing in the way his fingers clutch your jaw. “g’nna spit on it. suck on it. whatever you want, rafe…” your voice is airy, desperate. he smirks and lets go.

“alright. we’ll see. i’ll find you, yeah? got some business to attend to.” he gets up, leaving you. rafe cameron was making you work for it.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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