#theme prompt

[mycupofrum]

"Cubitum Eamus?"

Theme prompt moodboard for @prongsfoot-microfic (February 2024)

Source: Pinterest (x)

[writeblrsummerfest]

Theme challenge! 

Your characters encounter a classic horror movie monster! If your story already involves one of these, pick a different monster for this hypothetical. 

What monster do they run into? How do they act? 

You can use this as a character question, a chance to ramble, or a writing prompt. Just have fun!

[writing-inspo-and-prompts]

[lunamugetsu]

Delivery!

Flash was currently being held captive in a black of ice. How he got like this he wasn't sure. All he remembered was that he was running across Central City keeping the peace until suddenly an ice beam shot out of nowhere and froze his feat to the ground.... and the rest of him.

"Alright you got me! Show your face!"

"Well I was going to regardless. No need to yell." Out pops Danny Phantom carrying a bag with him and holding out an envelope.

"What? Who are you?"

"My name's Phantom. Danny Phantom. I have a message for you. I couldn't get your attention earlier so I thought this was just the next best way to get you to stop." Danny said as he unfreezes the speedster.

"Uh, okay." Flash said as Danny gives him an envelope.

On the envelope there are drawing in crayon and stickers and in marker it says: to Flash.

"It's from Susie, she'd said you'd remember her."

He remembered a Susie, a little girl that he used to see in the children's hospital. She had leukemia. He spent any minute he could making sure the kid was smiling when he was there. He was heartbroken when the nurses told him that she had passed away before he could give her her birthday present. Flash examined the crayon written words, it was just like Susie's writing.

"How did you?"

"Just read it."

The letter reads:

Dear Flash,

I'm sorry, I wasn't there when you showed up for my birthday. I never got to tell you, but thank you for being at the hospital with me when I was scared of going to treatment or when I had to take my medicine. Thank you for making me smile even when I didn't feel well. Thank you for playing games with me when I couldn't go outside. Thank you for talking to my mom and dad at my funeral. That was really nice. I drew some pictures for you but I never got to finish them when I was in the hospital so I drew you some new ones. Danny says that he'll give them to you.

In the envelope was a series of different colored papers all with different crayon and marker drawings of Susie and him playing in different scenarios. One where she was a doctor and he played the injured patient. One where they were both superheroes. Another one where they were playing shadow puppets when she wasn't feeling well. Page after page were different drawings of them playing with the last one was covered in glitter with a big heart with a crayon drawing of him and Susie.

"Susie said that her biggest regret was that she couldn't say thank you to her hero before she passed. So I bumped her up on my delivery list."

"What?"

"Oh yeah, I never fully introduced myself. I'm Danny Phantom, you can call me Danny. I'm the designated delivery person for the afterlife to the living realm. Any messages or special requests from the dead are delivered by me!" Danny hands him a business card all official.

And it does say: Danny Phantom special delivery service for those of the non-living variety!

"She also said she wanted to give you one last hug before moving on."

"What do you?" Flash is halted from saying anything else as he feels a pressure against his legs. He looks down to see a translucent small figure. She was a picture of what she looked like before the chemo. Susie gives him a smile and a hug before fading before his eyes.

Before Danny officially takes up the mantle of Ghost King he's trying to do a job that would have him interact with all of his citizens first so he could get a feel of it. Hence him making connections with both the living and non-living people (he went big-brain for this idea)

Extra scene:

"Oh that reminds me, I have a card for you from someone else."

"A card?" Flash opens the card only to get sucker-punched in the face. (like one of those cartoon boxing glove punches)

"A punch card." Danny said

Flash groans as he looks at the card that has the words: STOP MESSING WITH TIME! from CW

Obligatory Gotham Scene:

Danny standing in front of a beaten up Joker that has been tied to a chair.

"Just so you know I have a back order of a lot special requests for you. And since I can't exactly kill you, that would create so much political tape. I can let them make requests for certain actions. So right now I have over 50 requests for me to break your legs and over 30 to pull out your teeth and break your jaw. Some of them contradict each other because they want to make every word you say hurt you but others want me to curse you so you can't speak again. So I'll just have to get creative." Danny says winding his arm back and form.

He is for sure being completely professional about, he gets no personal gratification from beating up a crazy clown at all. (said nobody ever)

[rayactive-factory]

[🐈🥀🪴⚫🐈‍⬛🐈]

[kishdoodles]

Happy New Year! My yearly Davesprite is here to usher in 2024... it's been a quite the 2023! This also marks 10 years since I started this tradition... yippee!!!

I made the piece this year listening to @toontitsgoopbrain's davesprite tracks (give them a listen they're really good!)

2023 has been on the quieter side for me, nonetheless I'm overwhelmed by the support I've had during it anyways. Thanks to everyone who stuck around!

2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | 2015 | 2014

[ca-3]

A Kiss Ryuji Week happened on Twitter... I participated as best I could!! Here are some (mainly) pegoryu comics I did!! Time to post on the actual day now ❤️💛✨️

[dominicfikue]

⃗  ❪  ATTENTION SEEKER ! ࣪ ❫ — m. sturniolo

starring. brat tamer!matt & spoiled!reader. | wc. 2,164

includes. smut. unprotected sex. oral ( m!receiving ). reader being the biggest brat in los angeles. semi-public sex? pet names. cutsie domestic stuff at the start. orgasm denial. dirty talk. daddy kink. that’s it … i think

storyline. you let your words get a little too reckless towards matt. what happens when he finally puts you in your place?

⌖.˚◌ to say you’re spoiled is an understatement. matt gave you any and everything you wanted without question. you had all the latest purses , any expensive makeup product known to man, clothes on top of clothes. he pays for your hair appointments, your nail trips, everything. name it and he’d buy it with no hesitation. he makes it his mission that you know nothing but princess treatment. he’d do anything for you. all for his angel.

the cool morning air that seeps in through the cracked window hits your bare body as you flutter your eyes open. you snuggle further into the brunette next to you, his arm draped over your waist. you place wet opened-mouth kisses on his shoulder causing him to stir in his sleep. matt lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering open just like yours did a couple seconds ago. when his eyes land on you, a sheepish grin takes over his features as he pulls you in closer.

“good morning princess. you sleep good?” his morning voice deep and raspy. you mumble a soft “yes” against his chest, your fingers drawing hearts on his skin. you both sit in comfortable silence, the birds chirping outside quickly becoming the only noise. after a while, you speak up. “you got any plans for today?” you question , tilting your head up to look at him. matt licks over his dry lips before answering. “yeah, i gotta run some errands. you wanna come?” he mumbles as he presses a kiss onto your plump ones.

your freshly manicured acrylics find their way into his curls , softy scratching at his scalp. he lets out a sigh , his eyes trained on yours. you nod your head to answer his previous question as you get out of bed , your naked body on display. matt’s lips curl into a smirk before he sits up on his elbow and reaches over to connect his hand with your left ass cheek. you yelp in surprise as you turn around to give him a glare. he throws his hands up in surrender before laughing and throwing his head back into the pillows.

⌖.˚◌ bodies by dominic fike echoes from the television as you sit at your vanity , applying a clear gloss to your perfectly lined lips. the smell of marijuana fills up your nostrils as matt walks into your shared bedroom. you glance up at him through the vanity mirror as you dust your bake off. he stands over you in a plain white tee and a lit blunt in between his lips. the two of you make eye contact as he takes a drag from the drug.

“you look good. fuck… a little too good.” he says lowly, taking the blunt into his other hand to grab your jaw and lean down to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss, the gloss you just applied to your lips all over his now. when he pulls away, you give him a pout.

you had finally perfected your makeup and he comes in here, all sexy and high, ready to ruin your art. it’s not fair. he seems to catch onto what you’re trying to say because he takes his thumb to carefully wipe off the lip gloss that dripped down your chin. he mutters a quick “such a baby.” before sitting on the edge of the bed , continuing to smoke on the blunt. you once again place the clear gloss on your lips before getting up from your seat.

you have on a brown fresh love set with your panda dunks , the shoes going with everything. you quickly spray on your favorite perfume and put on your accessories before matt tells you it’s time to go as he puts the weed out. you look at yourself one last time in the mirror before walking out to the car with your boyfriend.

⌖.˚◌ seven hours. you and matt had been out for seven hours. when he said errands, you didn’t think he meant around the word tour. so far you guys have been to the car wash, best buy to get a new camera, the car dealership to get an oil change, best buy again to get something for his gaming set-up. i mean, the list could go on for days. as much as you loved being around him, this was not fun at all.

you guys walk into target, matt on the hunt for yet another thing you couldn’t remember. you drag your sore feet against the store floor, trying to keep up with matt. your lips are stuck in a permanent pout as you whine. matt turns around to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “what’s the matter? hm?” he asks, scouting the shelves for his mystery item.

“my feet hurt. i just wanna go home and sleep.” you pray that he gives in and bring you back to the apartment. unfortunately, he does the complete opposite. “i’m almost done, alright? just be patient for me.” he gives you a sympathetic smile before continuing his search. you roll your eyes before pulling out your phone and opening tiktok.

the first video that pops up on your for you page is a girl trying out a new blush. the perfect dusty rose color. you’re running out of the one you have at home so why not hurry and get a new one? you walk a couple steps over to matt who is yet again, looking at the shelves and glancing down at his phone. you tug on his t-shirt to catch his attention. “can we please go to ulta? pretty please?” you beg, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. he immediately shakes his head.

“you literally just said your feet hurt. no not today, baby. maybe tomorrow.” he explains. you feel like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. first, he takes you to all these boring places to grab boring things and now, he won’t treat you to the blush of your dreams? he’s so evil. “but why? why can’t we just go, matt?” you pester. matt lets out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.

“because i said no. don’t ask me again , y/n.” he says sternly. you groan loudly before crossing your arms over your chest. the pout from before becomes even deeper now. bratty tears start to pool in your eyes as you sniffle to try and keep them in. you knew you were acting like a child but you didn’t care. it just wasn’t fair how you always had to listen to him. so instead of communicating like a human being, you cry and stomp in the middle of target. if you weren’t getting this blush, you were making it everyone’s problem.

the look on matt’s face is unreadable as he watches you have your temper tantrum, silently waiting for you to finish. when you find yourself still complaining after five minutes, he takes it upon himself to interrupt you. “are you serious right now? get your fucking act together.” he whisper shouts. another five minutes pass and you’re still crying. he slams the object in his hand back down onto the shelf before harshly grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the exit.

when you get outside, you squirm against him as you try and get him to let go of you. him obviously being stronger than you makes this severely impossible. as you walk to the car, you can feel the anger radiating from his body. he swiftly opens the passenger side before throwing you inside, not caring if you hit your head. “fucking attention seeker.” he says under his breath. he quickly makes his way towards the driver side before getting in, starting the car and driving away.

⌖.˚◌ this was the worst car ride imaginable. there was nothing but pure silence. he didn’t even bother turning on the radio. he hasn’t looked at you once since he got in the car. usually he’d rest a hand on your thigh but not tonight. his arm laid on top of the console, not daring to move anywhere near yours. the vein on the side of his neck got more and more visible as the minutes passed. you couldn’t lie, he looked sexy.

you tried to ease the tension by letting your hand rest in his lap , inching closer and closer to his inner thigh. once he noticed what you were doing, he grabbed your hand and shoved it back into your bubble. you scoff at him, genuinely not seeing any flaws in the stunt you pulled earlier. “i don’t even know why you’re so mad. i’ve been following you around all day and the second i want something, yo—” you’re cut off by matt slamming on the brakes. you thank god that there wasn’t many people in the streets. he pulls over to park before speaking.

“get in the back right now. i swear y/n, if i have to repeat myself.” he mutters. you stare at him for a moment before complying, climbing into the back seat. he quickly follows suit, slightly pushing you over so he could sit comfortably. his hands work on his belt, quickly taking it off and pulling down his pants.

he slips out of his red plaid boxers, jerking himself like he had no time to waste. he grabs the back of your neck, nothing but darkness behind his eyes. “open.” he instructs as he gathers saliva in his mouth. you easily do as he asks, opening your mouth wide enough. he watches as his spit drips into your mouth before pulling you in for a quick, sloppy kiss. you quickly replace his hand with yours, stroking him slowly. he breaks away from your lips to throw his head back against the seat. you get on your knees next to him before leaning down and swirling your warm tongue over his pink tip.

“there ya go. always talking to me like you’re crazy, angel. try talking now.” he breathes out, pushing your head down further onto his length. you gag around him as his large hand keeps you still. he squirms in his seat for a moment before thrusting his hips up into your mouth repeatedly. deep groans and moans are heard from the boy above you as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“s-shit. im gonna cum. y’better swallow it all too. every last drop, you hear me?” he stutters. you try your best to nod around him. he thrusts into your mouth one last time before spilling his seed down your throat. you swallow all he has to give before lifting your head up and flashing him your tongue. he sends you a grin before softly kissing you, tasting himself on your tongue. his hands find their way to the waistband of your sweats, quickly tugging them down. you slump back in your seat to help him.

⌖.˚◌ once they’re finally off, he moves you onto his lap, making you straddle him. the kiss becomes more heated as he moves your pink lacy underwear to the side. he breaks the kiss before looking down and lining himself up with your entrance. he thrusts himself in and out of your velvety walls, his grip on your hip getting tighter. you let out a sigh, the stress from earlier leaving entirely.

“mmm matt. you feel so good! don’t stop.” you moan out. he attacks your neck, sucking dark bruises along the skin. his pace gets more rough by the second, basically knocking the wind out of your lungs. he reaches a hand down in between the both of you to rub your clit in sweet , short circles. “this was all you wanted huh? making a scene n shit so daddy could fuck the attitude outta you?” he shakes his head , faux disappointment on his face. you nod your head but that wasn’t enough for him. “use your fucking words. if you can talk shit, you can answer my question.” he says, his other hand now squeezing your cheeks together.

“mhm, t-that’s all i wanted.” you hiccup as his pace becomes even more relentless. he breathes a “good girl” before letting go of your face. you feel your orgasm approaching, the band in your stomach about to snap. your cunt clenches around him uncontrollably, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips. “gonna cum!” you basically scream out.

“don’t even think about it. you pull some shit like that n think i’m gonna let it slide?” he chuckles, his hips stuttering as he approaches his second orgasm of the night. he stills his movements, his cum filling you up to the brim. tears threaten to fall from your eyes again as he pulls out, pulling his underwear and pants back up. he moves your panties back to their original spot before speaking.

“think before you speak to me, yeah?” he smiles, kissing your forehead before climbing back into the front.

lai speaks. me after pushing the sturniolo stoner agenda… IM SORRY I HAD TO!!! i kinda actually hate this fic but who cares. i pray you can’t tell that i stopped trying at the end 😭😭😭. also honorable dominic fike mention …. i was gonna put she wants my money but we are not gold diggers over here!!!!

taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @sturniolho @lorarri @vickyzloserz @gnxosblog @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @frankdelrayy @ilovethesturniolotriplets @paibey @hearts4chris @sturniololol @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @writtenbywonyoung @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07

[walkingcontradictionwithanxiety]

#Butterfly #Cinquain – #ThemePrompt

#Butterfly #Cinquain – #ThemePrompt

Lightning Burstingout of a cloud, it creates a channel –  tall trees nod and send sparks of lovea beam puts up a spectacular show sky suddenly lights…#Butterfly #Cinquain – #ThemePrompt

[running-with-kn1ves]

Can you make something for a yandere masochist? Smut please

A/N: Working on all the reqs in my inbox, I just don't have much time to write! No pressure but donations always help if yall want your requests written faster!

CW: Noncon/Dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, threats, Sub! Masochistic yandere, aggressive-ish reader, NSFW

Synopsis: You find yourself kidnapped by your shy boyfriend who claims he's going to "take care of you."

Word Count: 3000 -- Tags ^^: @moonlight-melanin

If someone had told you that your meek nerd of a boyfriend would be the one to ever kidnap you, you probably would have laughed in their face. Your boyfriend who trips over every sidewalk crack? Your boyfriend who needs your help opening a water bottle? Your boyfriend, who begs for you to wrap your hand around his neck and worships the ground you walk on, no matter how hard you protest?

 No way in hell. 

Except, the utter blasphemy that was such an idea, was true. It was only a few nights ago that you found yourself bound by your hands and feet to a familiar bed. Your boyfriend, Rex, vaguely explained that he was "protecting you", and "keeping you away from bad people!” 

You came to the conclusion that the harm that he was supposedly protecting you from, was most likely your overly friendly coworkers and demanding job. Who knew a 9 to 5 could be so dangerous? Clearly your boyfriend. However, his ridiculous behavior didn’t falter no matter how many times you tried to convince him, no matter how many threats or bribes you threw his way. 

Sometimes he’d be nearly swayed, but something in his mind always snapped back, telling you that its alright if you despise him, if you follow out with your threats; as long, as he got to keep you safe. 

For how obedient and eager to please he was, you never realized how stubborn he could be. But unfortunately for what he had in stubbornness, he lacked in wit and authority. He always fell into your hands when it came to you offering physical affection as a secretive ploy to try and escape; not to mention, he wasn’t very good at keeping his hostages tied up.

By the third night of your capture, you managed to slip your moist hands out of the loose, steel handcuffs. Digging an old pen into the large hole of the chain cuff wrapped around your ankle, you wiggled it around to find that sweet spot that would release you. You were grateful for being able to reach the bedside drawer, finding a multitude of tools within it that helped you including the pen that was once yours, and some lotion that made your palms slick enough to slip out of the handcuffs. While you were grateful for their presence nearby, you didn’t want to know why they were close to the bed in the first place. 

You continued to roughly wiggle the pen, not hearing any clicks or cracks within the lock that would signify your release. The chain around your ankle wouldn't budge at all. At some point along the way with all your jamming of it into the lock’s hole, the pen got stuck. 

“No no no,” You whispered, trying to tug the pen out. You pulled as hard as you could, to no avail as ink began to stain your fingers. 

Well, your kidnapper would certainly notice that. 

You looked around, feeling incredibly anxious now that you were only halfway free, aware that it'd be unlikely that you got to keep this little escape trial to yourself. Though, the freedom of your hands made you feel more powerful than you had in days.

But the quick and excited footsteps outside of the bedroom door made your stomach sink. They drew closer, only stopping to fill the silence with a rapid knock to the door. Beads of sweat rolled down your neck as your dry mouth swallowed; with shaking fingers, you covered up your hands and feet under the bed comforter. 

‘Just keep them under the blanket, and he won’t notice…’

The door opened shortly after the knock, not waiting for you to respond. In came your Rex, your boyfriend-slash-kidnapper. He clammed up with a tenseness as you scowled. You brought back your signature glare that you looked at him with during the days of your capture; he seemed to shrink into himself as you didn't break eye contact. 

"Did… you like dinner? He asked, looking at your plate on the bedside table. Eyeing the plate with a frown, Rex shut the door behind him. He walked closer to your place on the bed, inspecting the plate. 

"You've hardly eaten anything since…"

"Since you kidnapped me?"

He went silent. Avoiding your judgemental stare.

"You know I'm just trying to keep you safe…" He said meekly, not fond of your cold behavior. 

"I don't want to talk, Rex. Just leave." You snarl.

 Folding your arms you turn away and focus your attention on the setting sun outside the window, reminding you that once again you'll be here for another night… another day here when you wake up. 

Rex sits down on the bed next to you, his mop of curly black hair covering his desperate face. He wouldn't be able to take it if you played the silent treatment with him-- even when you were angry like this, he'd rather suffer your wrath than hear the empty silence of his endless thoughts, keeping your sweet lips shut so tightly. 

"Please," he gripped the blankets atop your legs, trying to find a place to touch you. "I'm just doing what a boyfriend should do, don’t you get that? Why can't you understand me?"

You continued to stay silent, hearing Rex gulp as he realized you were serious in keeping your mouth shut. 

He began to grow antsy… there was a feeling of isolation in how he couldn't see all of your face as you kept your gaze to the window, how he couldn't even hold your hand or see your body beneath the mass of blanket. 

"Come on, don’t be like that…” 

Rex rolled his tongue over his teeth, gripping harder onto the sheets. His hand shakes as it reaches for yours, desperately hoping you wouldn’t tug away. 

Once he feels your arm go limp, he wastes no time in bringing it up to his cheek, hoping to feel some sort of warmth from you. Rex presses his cheek into your fingers, finding a sliver of relief in how warm and tender you feel against him. He’s hardly had the luxury of such affection since you were huddled up in his apartment. 

You don’t dare to look at the man, debating whether interrupting him or continuing to let him nuzzle would alert him faster on the fact that your handcuffs were gone. 

You didn’t have much time to think when you suddenly felt him go still, a newfound grip on your hand. He squeezed with thick fingers, the lovelust gone from his touch.

You turn to look at Rex, finding that you could not see his eyes beneath his hair and shadowed glasses. He shifted from crushing your fingers to choking your wrist, panic setting into your body. 

Rex looked up, far more quiet than you were expecting. You began to twist your arm, trying to pull it away as he bore into you. You knew the guy was odd when you first started dating, and was clearly deranged after this kidnapping fiasco-- but you never saw it clearer until now. His eyes seemed to sink into his skin as his face drained of all color. He looked almost sick, like someone hungry to hurt without any remorse. Rex’s blunt nails dug into your skin as you started to tug away roughly; his hunched body was like a feral animal ready to strike. 

Seeing as he already found out about your escape attempt, you decided it wasn’t worth wasting this chance. Maybe you could knock him down a few before he managed to get you chained up again, giving you more time before he did who knows what. 

“These arms are awfully bare.” His monotonous voice uttered. 

Rex pressed on the bruises on your wrist of where the handcuffs dug into, his eyes glazing over as you grunted in pain. Still, you fought. You brought your other arm to try and pull off his fingers, only for Rex to shift on the bed and force himself upon you. His sharp knees dug into the sides of your thighs, pulling your other arm off of him as he laid them both beside your head, against the pillows. For being quite frail and shy, he had far more strength in his desperation than you expected. You could see that he was giving his all, only tearing up momentarily when your fingers scratch him or your elbow rams into his nose. 

Within the tussle Rex managed to find the handcuffs, of which you only hid underneath the blankets beside you. Every time you tried to heighten your knees to push him off, Rex pressed deeper, bruising your skin and making you bite your lip in frustration and pain. His loose clothes and your mess of blankets made it hard to find a grip in pushing him off.

Rex pulled the cuffs up, shakily and forcefully wrapping them upon your wrists. Pulling them over the bedpost, he watched as you struggled to get out of them. But he didn’t look down at you with a smirk or a sadistic grin-- Instead, it appeared to be relief. 

Your boyfriend lowered himself to your chest as he went limp, his previous expression void of emotion except for stunned shock, shifted to a tired, nervous frown. 

“I-I don’t do this because I want to, you know.” You burn holes into him with your glare, straining to pull the cuff chain over the bedpost as Rex sat on your torso. “You don’t give me a choice!”

His loose shirt showed the front of his collarbones and the elongated muscles in his neck, the male gulping as he looked guiltily down at your chest. You were sweating from the fear and strain against the tightened metal binds. 

“Fuck off.” You grunt, continuing to tug and pull away from your tethers. 

Rex seemed to get antsy at watching you try to struggle and claw at him. His hips twitched as he moved to sit on your legs, trying to keep you from kicking him off. 

“But…If you keep pulling like that, your bruises will only get worse.” 

“I don’t give a shit.” You snapped, hardly letting him finish. Spitting towards him you continued to fight; that only seemed to spur Rex on. 

He wiggled against your hips, looking down away from you in embarrassment. the male beginning to hold your knees down, his legs wrapped around your left thigh. 

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for us…” He huffed, laying his head down on your chest, and holding onto you. 

“Rex!” You shout angrily at his innaction, trying to knee him as you pushed away from the headboard. 

“I know, I know!” You could feel the hardness inbetween his legs press against your thigh. “You can hate me if you want, can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” He meekly bit his lip with a little grunt, hesitating for a moment before he pushed his hips against your thigh. “But I can’t let you leave.”

Seeing as your struggle didn’t impede his movements, Rex slowly rocked himself against you to apply pressure. He relished in how your knee came up to grace his crotch in a stinging pleasure. You may have done it in an attempt to push him off, but all it managed to do was further Rex’s desire for your brashness, and you.

“I’m yours…” He huffed, pushing his face into the warmth of your chest. His crotch aligned with your hip, adding a new sensation as he humped like a touch-starved, horny animal. “Im yours, I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m--ngh--” 

 Rex bit the collar of your shirt to stop from crying out, his moan muffled into your body as he rocked at a rhythm. In a mix of huffs he lifted his head to search for your eyes and lips. He reached up to collide his lips with yours, pressing his knee between your legs, spreading them just gently. His hands traveled down your chest slowly, hesitantly. He was always waiting for your next move, always soaking in every touch and taste of you that he could. 

You pushed against his lips, turning and ripping your mouth away. 

“I know you want to leave, but maybe I can change your mind,” He looked at you with lovestruck eyes, a growing pleasure within them. “Maybe make you feel good. I’m atleast good at that, right?” He shyly palmed at your crotch, determined and eager to make you cry out in the same desire he was swelling in. 

He just wanted your eyes to be on him. 

Rex continued to grind himself deeper into your upper thigh, wrapping his legs around your side. He released a little pant while traveling cold fingers down your chest, pulling up your shirt to expose your stomach. Reaching between your legs, he licked his lips in anticipation, cupping your sex with his hand ever so gently. 

Shutting his lips he tried to suppress his evident moans, pushing his lips against yours as he begged for an ounce of affection. You in turn, bit his bottom lip in retaliation, pressing up against to get a good clench on his mouth. You hoped it’d be enough to get him off of you, but instead Rex pressed harder, grunting in pained pleasure as he welcomed the ache. The taste of blood was left in your mouth, Rex still leaving sloppy kisses along your nipping lips, drooling as he pushed his slick tongue in your mouth, rubbing it against yours. His glasses seemed to shift downward, making him look even more of a mess.

Even as you pulled at his hair from your restraint position, Rex let out a surprised yelping groan, humping harder into your leg at the newfound pain. 

“Please, I promise to be good…” He begs between wet, one-sided kisses. “ I’ll do whatever you w…want…!” Rex hieghtened his voice with a desperate groan, showing he was close to his climax. 

His frenzied pleas showed the familiar side of the boyfriend you remembered before he kidnapped you: quiet, clingy, and too infatuated for his own good.

You could feel a wet spot of leaked pre-cum on your thigh, Rex’s hand delving under your now unbuttoned pants. 

He was quick to palm your crotch from beneath your underwear, gripping and massaging as he chased his own high, fixated on your scrunched up expression. 

His slightly open mouth drooled against your shirt as he looked up at you, desperate for you to reciprocate some kind of affection or attention. 

Rex’s expression showed he was completely enamored in the moment, with glazed over eyes and a eagerness in his thrusts as his mind solely focused on the pleasure between his weak thighs and getting something-- anything, from you. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say bitterly, grabbing Rex’s hair in another attempt to get him off of you and ruin his high. However, that did neither. 

Rex looked even more turned on, letting out painful moans at feeling you tug multiple times.

“Yes.. hah, please-- use me, do what you want--” You bit down on his shoulder as he pressed the rest of his weight down on you, leaning up to the feeling of your fingers tug. “I love you, ‘love you so much..” 

You demand him to look at you with a tug of his black curls, a small line of blood staining your lips from the hard bite you gave. 

Rex obeyed with pleasure-drunken fervor, drawing the end of his high as he witnessed his blood in your mouth. 

A part of him would always be inside you.

Rex buried his head into your neck as he orgasmed, thrusting hard up against your leg like a rabbit during mating season. Letting out a continuation of unabashed moans, his teeth bit your T-shirt as cum spilled from his release. 

In the moment, Rex had sped up his movements in pleasuring you, digging beneath your underwear to feel the heat of your sex against his hand, leaving you quite dazed yourself, You managed to hid your reaction quite well as Rex was too focused to notice, but now that seemed to shift as he began to relax. 

Rex’s pulsing touch on your crotch slowled as his breathing regulated. Though it became more difficult for you to keep your mouth shut and your face straight as he repeatedly put his thumb against the right set of nerves. 

Your boyfriend’s breath steadied as he watched you release a hitched sigh from your mouth, enjoying the way you looked at him with a dazed glare. Covered in sweat and cum, he was beginning to come down from the high he ached to feel once again. 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” He panted, face flushed and glasses falling to the tip of his nose. “ Was s’pposed to be convincing you, but I got ahead of myself…”

Rex swallowed, adjusting his glasses with the tips of his finger. The male began to quickly fondle beneath your jeans once again, ignoring how you still pushed against the headboard and cried out in frustration. He was slow at first, trying to regain the rhythm; it didn’t take long for him to find that tempo that made your knees weak. 

You felt a numbed pleasure stir between your thighs against your will, trying to toss and turn to make it go away. 

But Rex held you still, planting his weight down on your chest and stroking your heat with skill. He had touched himself so many times to pictures and thoughts of you, but he never imagined this. Even as you scrunched up your face in frustration and annoyance, he saw your teeth scrape at your lip, your hips twitching and your groans drawing out longer than before. 

You desperately clawed at your restraints, avoiding Rex’s hot and heavy stare, of which was so entranced in watching your sweet face change every time a wave of pleasure overcame you. You felt so defeated in the fact that he could tell you were feeling the effects of his touch, how you weren’t completely focused on the idea of escape anymore. 

“M’gonna make you feel so good,” Rex grinned, hazed with the afterglow of his pleasureful release and soaking up the look of undesired arousal in your eyes. 

“Just promise not to give your pleasure, your pain, to anyone else…”

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Danny arrives in the DC universe and, for one reason or another, decides to help fight some bad guys. But he doesn't do it as Phantom or Fenton, oh no. He doesn't want either of his identities to get mixed up in all this nonsense and get traced back to him. So what does he do?

Crappy cosplay.

He's in Metropolis and Superman needs a little help? He's showing up in a blue tee with a paper superman symbol visibly tapped on the front. He's wearing blue jeans with red boxers over them. He's wearing a cheap mask of Supe's face that was clearly bought from the dollar store.

He's in Gotham? His cape and cowl is a curtain duck-taped into a barely passable hood with paper for the mask and toilet paper rolls for the ears.

Wonder woman? It's some kind of swim suit, put over his clothes mind you, and he has a wig that is clearly made of a mop.

He's showing up in bootleg merchandise, clothes that are the wrong color, accents that are made of paper and visibly taped on, armor that is made of cardboard and tinfoil, literal undergarments on the outside of his clothes, symbols put backwards or upside-down, costumes that generally look like he put them together in five minutes.

At some point, it becomes some sort of game amongst the Justice League to see who the cosplayer will dress up as next. They have a betting pool to see who's the next one to be cosplayed.

[mcflymemes]

RANDOM LINES OF DIALOGUE PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

oh, great. more of your very eloquent bullshit.

i don't fear death. in fact, i yearn for it.

if it holds wine, it's a wine glass.

so... no guns. do you have an axe?

i'm not usually this direct, but... what is wrong with you?

this would have been much better with a gun.

i might be a bit too ambitious.

i think you'll see that the time was not wasted.

i can do it as well. i can do it for ages.

it doesn't hurt... well. it hurts a little bit now.

i'm fascinated by what happened in your fourteen minutes of absence.

no hard feelings. please look after yourself.

i am fundamentally incapable of showing off.

i'm just having a bit of a laugh with everyone.

that was so cringey and so uncomfortable.

i have no stitches. none!

momma didn't raise no fool.

i can borrow a dog whenever i want.

honestly? i don't know where to start.

i gave you culture... literature... water.

sometimes absence is more powerful than presence.

by the end of it, we were singing swedish drinking songs.

i think you were really reluctant to take accountability for that.

i just think you formed a bad relationship.

do you think it's fair?

what do you have for me now?

yours is... impressive.

we're all different.

don't you dare look away.

i didn't mind it, actually.

i'm just proud of myself.

i think it went in. it did go in.

i feel ashamed, mainly.

that's what i was going for.

i just want to acknowledge your technique.

it did escalate severely after five minutes.

none of us ever want to see this again.

we've reached the ten minute mark.

i don't think i know who i am.

there's a degree of style in the cowboy hat.

there are no fucking shoes!

you look like you've been kicked through a charity shop.

your phone's ringing.

haven't you ever seen one of those before?

they were sick and dangerous.

what does that say about whoever killed them?

this isn't half bad for college kids.

what the hell is this?

you might want to wear these.

have a safe night.

would you believe i'm single?

why do you always trail off like that?

[oldfangirl81]

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Old Men(tor) Big Naturals

(for @3luecactuz)

[petricorah]

sukka week day 6: boyfriend sweater [id in alt] for @sukka-week