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midnightbluebells03 · 2 days

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Request: The reader and ellie are friends, but the reader doesn't know if she likes girls or not, so ellie offers to let her experiment on her. Friends to lovers and mutual pining. 💓 a happy ending, preferably. Up to you whether or not to include smut!

FALLING INTO ME

CW - hair pulling, mentions of past experiences with men, oral (R receiving), thigh grinding

WC - about 2k - no outbreak AU

Leave me Ellie or Abby requests x

This was wrong right? Infront of you your childhood best friend Ellie sits crossed legged on her bed. The faded plaid sheets that have replaced dinosaurs from her youth clutched in your unforgiving grasp.

"We don't have to do anything" she says barely above a whisper. Like she's afraid to even suggest it. The air is tight, hot, like someone lit a fire and let the smoke invade the room. But there's Ellie. Her hand sitting on your thigh as her thumb swipes across bare skin, the floral sleep shorts you had opteded for letting her trace over it with no barrier. Her back pressed to the headboard like it's the only thing keeping her sitting upright. "I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry". Her hand retreats with a slight tremble.

Just ten minutes ago you were sharing a bottle of some cheap wine Ellie had got from the corner store. Giggling and reminiscing on your intertwined lives, awkward teen phases that melted into adulthood when you let it slip.

You think you might like girls.

Of course you weren't sure, you'd never done anything with a girl, but all your experiences with boys just felt empty. Felt like a chore more than fun. And who better to tell than Ellie? She had been out for years, having had her fair share of girlfriends despite her slightly awkward attitude at times. When the word 'experiment' left your lips you saw a glint in her eyes.

It made her pause, wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and place the bottle onto the nightstand. Making space for it amongst the clutter. The way she looked at you made you tilt your head in confusion, until she opened her mouth.

"You could experiment with me"

"Ellie" you finally speak up, grasping her wrist gently to halt her movement. Fingers grazing over her tattoo and making her gaze snap from the floor to your eyes. God she did really have the prettiest eyes. You'd always thought so, oftentimes comparing the hues to the fresh grass during summer or the moss growing deep in your parents garden. "I want to"

"Yeah?" She looks like she doesn't believe you, eyebrows slightly knitted together. You swallow hard before nodding, Ellie beckons you over with her hand. "Cm'here" when you inch closer you can't help but watch how Ellie flicks her tounge over her slightly chapped lips. Feeling her slowly move to hold onto your waist as you start to straddle her lap while your hands rest on her shoulders. "If you want to stop just tell me okay?"

"Promise" you feel your heart speed up as Ellie leans in. Far enough where you could kiss her but she let's you make the choice. So you do. Pressing your lips to hers and letting your eyes flutter shut.

And it makes it feel like a firework has went off in your chest.

The two of you mesh together like puzzle pieces, soft and slow while your mind races with a million thoughts. You can feel how Ellie is holding back, her hands not moving from their position on your waist. But after a few minutes when you rock your hips forward slightly you could almost swear she groans into your mouth. So you do it again, making her pull back from the kiss.

"Can I touch you?" She was always like this, always asking a million question. Things like if you wanted the last slice of pizza or what movie to put on. She always let you take the lead, like she was afraid of making the wrong choice. You nod but she just chuckles softly. "Words darling" it makes you want to clentch your thighs together, the way her her accent slips into that semi texan drawl that she picked up from Joel.

Your hands come over the top of hers, guding her up and under your tank top "Please Els"

Her fingers are calloused from the years of guitar, running up your skin slowly. Too slowly. But you don't want to complain, not with the way she's looking at you. Eyes following her hands as she pushes the fabric further up your body. You decide to speed it up a little. Taking the fabric in your own hands and pulling it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room.

Normally this is when you'd start to feel weird. Your body would almost stiffen and your brain would be flooded with thoughts of leaving. A deep guilt or twisted knot in your throat.

But not now.

Not with Ellie.

Instead your stomach feel tighten at how her eyes take you in. Slowly scanning over you like you're the most breath taking thing she's even seen. Her hands pause just before reaching your breasts, her pupils so blown her green eyes as almost black as she looks up at you.

"Take it off?" She whispers. Her finger coming up to ghost over the band of your bra. You nod, reaching around with shaky hands to undo the clasp. Letting the bra fall onto Ellie's lap in the sliver of space between you two. She picks it up and moves it to the side, carefully. Like it was priceless even though it was the cheapest one you owned. Some target bralette that was on sale. It was nothing like how your previous partners treated your belongings. With them it was always thrown across the room like trash, nothing more than an obstacle to their pleasure. "You're so- you're just so- fuck" Ellie mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed the sweetest shade of pink as her hands slowly creep up your sides, inching towards your breasts.

"Ellie" you whine softly, the ache between your legs become worse with every passing second. Like you were dying for her to just touch you. It makes her lock eyes with you, as her thumb runs over your nipple. Making them stiffen and forcing a soft gasp from your lips.

"Just tell me what you want baby" her lips trail down your neck slowly as she mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you everything just tell me"

Your voice cracks slightly as you finally manage to say "Touch me"

You can feel as a slight smirk creeps onto her lips. Her fingers continuing to toy with your nipples. Just enough to make you needy but not enough to scratch the itch in your core. "I am". The faux innocence in her voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Ellie" you huff, feeling your face heat up at what you're about to say. "Fuck me please? Wanna know what it's like" with that Ellie leans into your neck fully while her hands keep on your chest, starting to place kisses down your skin as your head tips back. You can feel her smile as she moves further down, nipping slightly at your pulse point. Your hand moves to her hair, gripping softly while your hips uncontrollably start to rock against her. Desperate for any friction. Ellie pulls back but before you can complain she taps your hip.

"Straddle my thigh" you tilt you head confused but she gives you a smile before brushing a lose strand of hair out your face. "Trust me". So you do what she's asks, shifting until your legs are either side of her thigh. Ellie brings her hands to your hips, starting to steadily rock you against her. You gasp then moan softly. Almost teary eyed at finally getting some real touch from her. Even if it's clad by several layers of fabric. "See? How's that feel?"

"Good" you say with a shaky voice as Ellie sets your pace. Guiding you with a tight grip. "Feels good Ellie fuck"

"Mm" she coos softly, kissing over your collarbones before nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. "Just gotta get you ready yeah? Get you all wet for when I fuck you so good you'll forget about all the guys that couldn't make you cum". Her lips move down to your hardened nipples, wrapping around one of them as you throw you head back in pleasure.

Now this Ellie?

This was a whole new person. Like her awkward shell broke away and left someone who you were going to be thinking about forever. Suddenly all the girls she managed to get with make sense, because she's hardly touched you and you're soaking through your panties.

"Fuck" your hands tighten on her shoulders as her tounge rolls over your nipple. You still your hips, almost afraid that she'll make you cum just from this and that makes her pause. Detaching from you with a confused look.

Her eyebrows knit together and her hand comes up to cup your hot cheek. "You okay?"

Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the years of subtle crushing. Or maybe it's the way your almost certain there's a wet patch on Ellie's pyjama bottoms but you can't help stumbling out. "Fuck me Ellie"

Her hand snakes back down to your hip and she flips you over, making you squeal as your back hits the sheets. A slight giggle leaving your lips before Ellie crashes hers with yours. Her hand moving down your stomach to the band of your shorts. She pulls back but you don't give her a a chance to ask, already pulling off your shorts and panties. Kicking them onto the floor as Ellie moves down to between your legs.

"What you doing?" You ask with a slight tilt to your head, propping yourself onto your elbows to look down at her.

"What's it looks like?" She asks with a slight chuckle, starting to pepper kisses up your inner thighs but pausing before reaching your dripping pussy. "What? No one eat you out before?". Her smile fades when you shake your head, eyes darting between you and the sight before her. "That's just criminal dude"

Before you can comment on the fact she's just called you dude her tounge licks a fat strip through your folds. Making you gasp and grip the sheets. Skilled tounge circling your clit while her eyes stay focused on you. With a certain flick your hand flies to grab onto her auburn locks, tugging from the root as Ellie moans into you.eyes fluttering shut as your hips start to rutt against her face, changing a high you've never even come close to with others.

"Ellie" you whine as your back arches, soft pants filling the room as her hands creep up your hips and pull you closer. Making you moan so loudly you're almost certain anyone walking by outside would've heard. "Fuck, fuck, Els- gonna-!". Ellie doesn't falter, doesn't give you a second to breath as your orgasm rushes through you. Hips desperately trying to escape Ellie's unforgiving grasp as she works you through it, no sign of caring about the way your thighs clamp around her head unforgivingly.

By the time she pulls away to lick your slick from her lips your brain is fuzzy. Staring up at the same ceiling you helped pull glow in the dark stickers off as Ellie taps your shin.

"You...you okay?" Her voice sounds so small. You finally manage to hold yourself up to look at her. Lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them and face hot to the touch.

"That...Els that-" your words get caught in your throat so instead you reach for the collar of her shirt. Pulling her up until your lips crash together, the taste of yourself filling your mouth as Ellie places a hand on the back of your neck.

When you two part she gives you a cocky smile. Gliding hee finfers cross your cheek before moving the loose babyhairs out of your face. "I'm gonna take that as a five star review then?"

You giggle before fake thinking. "Hmm I don't know Els think I need to try it again, yknow get all the data".

She nods with pursed lips, a serious expression taking over her face. "For science".

"For science".

#lesbian #wlw #fanfic #smut #writer #writing #tlou #fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #the last of us #request #leave me request please

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blossom-hwa · 2 days

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manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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chaifootsteps · 2 days

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while it's nice to see Vivzie finally acknowledge Stella is worthy of pity 'in her own way' (something about the phrasing on that tweet rubs me the wrong way tbh, feels like they're implying her pain is like less important or valid or something? might just be me) it's kind of frustrating to see the end of the tweet say 'that doesn't absolve her of the pain she's caused', because like

I haven't seen many people making that argument, tbh?

like sure there are Stella stans who unironically say she was in the right to order a hit on him and it's fair retribution, but I don't think they're the majority

the majority of fans & former fans I've seen are just frustrated at how much of a caricature Stella is; as a portrait of an abuser she's incredibly poorly done and as an intended Hate Sink with no redeeming qualities she's frustrating because her backstory is just as tragic as Stolas', arguably more so because she has way less power & social mobility than him yet we're supposed to treat her like an irreedemable monster because the writers decided she was evil since birth.

I don't pity her because I like her or because I excuse anything she's said or done to Stolas. I pity her because I look at her backstory and can easily imagine how much of a nightmare her life is & how the fandom only ever seems to consider the 'arranged marriage' part of it and not the laundry list of other things that are awful about Stella's life. And I pity her because she reminds me of people IRL - mostly women - who are stuck in awful circumstances then are victimized twice by people who, if they even recognize the circumstances are bad, don't care about how that influences the person they currently are or why they behave in ways that seem inexplicable to us

for example the whole Stella likes throwing parties thing. we're obviously supposed to take it as a sign she's vapid and shallow, but what else is she supposed to do? at least if she throws parties misery can have company & her friends can visit. We see Stolas make fun of her for not knowing how to spell, but was she ever expected to be literate or allowed to have interests outside of raising a child she didn't want? the show just doesn't care to answer what society looks like for someone in her position. her interests only matter insofar as they provide a vector for the viewer to hate her some more

(going back to the recent discussions around MLP it's so noticeable they went out of their way to avoid 'stereotypical feminine interest = worthy of scorn' by having Rarity & Pinkie's interests be fashion and parties and the rest of the cast being chill about that even if they don't share that enthusiasm)

I know there are some proposed fix it scenarios in your inbox that often throw in 'and then Striker kills Stolas' as a closer but like even those don't sound like they approve of Stella or anything she does. far as I can tell they just hate Stolas and are tired of him because the show keeps insisting he's a perfect angel who never means to hurt anyone so that makes it OK. there's no chance of getting any catharsis seeing Blitzo or anyone else stand up to him, so we have to imagine it. It's even more galling considering Stella keeps most of her ire focused on Stolas whereas Stolas is exploiting and gaslighting a member of the lower classes. I mean at least Stella seems to have no delusions about who or what she is, she knows she's being awful and she revels in it. Stolas meanwhile is in total delusion about who he is and what he's done & the show is running out of chances to fix that

so like yeah, nothing Stella has suffered absolves her of her treatment of Stolas. But that exact logic applies to Stolas, too, yet the show wants us to show him more than pity - it expects us to like and empathize with him while he frees Blitzo from sexual slavery mainly because he feels entitled to love & affection that he's not getting and was never owed

That's what it boils down to, really. Stella's not allowed a free pass, while Stolas is allowed to hurt whoever he wants for any reason.

#Anonymous #actual blog post #helluva boss critical #viv stuff

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defectivehero · 13 hours

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Hello, I would love to see more of your snarky millionaire villain and "not wanting to owe anyone money" hero. Please,,,, it was immaculate,,,, I beg I love it so much. It was such a wonderful read. I wish to see more of them 🥺 ty <333

here's part one of this story. and ahh ty! now, onto part two:

Life after the villain's... generosity... is strange. The hero finds that they're no longer so stressed about paying rent or having enough groceries. They're well-fed and well-rested, for the first time in several months (years). The hero doesn't know how to feel about it all: they're frustrated, wary, exhausted, angry, ashamed. They have never been comfortable with accepting assistance, and the enormous sum of money forced onto them by the villain is an assistance they're entirely unable to refuse (literally). They remember how futile their attempts at resistance felt, as the villain firmly steered them down the sidewalk and forced them to walk in their bank and cash in the check. It was humiliating. They felt their eyes stinging with unshed tears, but they hid their guilt and remorse until they were alone behind the walls of their apartment. Those feelings don't leave them, even as time passes and the memory of that night blurs around the edges.

“You’re a strange one." The hero is torn from their thoughts and they instinctively bristle at the sudden, unexplained voice. When their gaze catches on the villain lurking in the corner of the room, they relax a little. And once they realize that they've relaxed, they scold themself for thinking their enemy's presence could be anything but unnerving.

“…Thanks?” The hero eventually remembers to reply. It seems that the villain has broken into their apartment just to speak to them. Either they have something important to discuss, or their enemy has too much time on their hands. The hero suspects the latter.

“Wasn’t a compliment,” the villain says. The hero rolls their eyes as their enemy continues. “Most people wouldn't need to be blackmailed into accepting a rather large sum of money."

Ah, this again. The hero was foolish to think their enemy would ever let them forget their... arrangement. “I’m not like most people,” they decide to say, after struggling to come up with a response for a few moments.

“Fair enough,” the villain sighs, as if that was a foregone conclusion.

“If I’m being honest,” the hero continues, their mouth moving before their mind can stop it, “Your, ah, gift…" The absolutely outrageous sum of money, the hero thinks, "...gave me some much needed vacation time.” Indeed it did. They enjoyed a few vacation days last week, which was quite the rarity. Not to mention the sudden stability and security they were awarded.

“Really?” The villain asks, crossing their arms over their chest and raising an eyebrow at them. They look frighteningly at ease, despite the indisputable fact that they're standing in a space that isn't theirs.

“Yes,” the hero answers. “I took a day off work for the first time last week.” That statement slips out before they can stop it. Immediately, they feel the villain's gaze focus on them intently.

“The first time?” The villain asks, a strange expression on their face. It looks to be a mix of disbelief and indignation. They cross their arms over their chest. “You’re joking.” They're performing a strange balancing act between boredom and interest. One moment, the villain is listening with rapt attention; the next, they're looking around the room as if they'd rather be literally anywhere else in the world.

Meanwhile, the hero suddenly knows they’ve committed a grave mistake. They remain silent, knowing any further explanation will only make things worse. The villain studies them for a long moment, and even as they continue speaking, it's clear that this conversation will occur again at a later date.

“I’m surprised you didn’t donate the money,” the villain hums, a smile working its way onto their face. The hero nearly sighs in relief at the change in subject.

“I think we both know I tried,” the hero huffs, not realizing their enemy's remark is a trap until it's too late. They engineered that verbal trap just to applaud their own ego.

“Ah, yes,” the villain smirks, their lips parting to reveal sharp teeth. “I blacklisted all of the prominent charities in the area. Rather ingenious of me, I have to admit.” They hold up their hand and look at their nails, before flipping it around to pick at something under their nail.

“There’s so much you could be doing with that kind of time and money,” the hero says with a shake of their head, resisting the urge to bury their head in their hands. They've done far too much agonizing about this for their own good. At some point, they're forced to accept the reality of the situation. Besides, the more attention they devote to the villain's strange and selfish philanthropy, the less energy they have for the more important things.

“But alas,” the villain sighs dramatically, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. The hero stiffens and pushes them off. “What has the world done for me?” They muse.

The hero has had too many circular conversations on the same topic to fall for the bait once more. They know they cannot change their enemy’s mindset, no matter how hard they try. They settle for throwing their hands in the air to indicate their helplessness. The villain seems surprised at their evident agreeableness, as they raise their brows before mimicking the gesture.

"What can we do?" The villain shrugs. "We're mere chess pieces in a far broader battle between good and evil." That's a gross oversimplification, but it still holds some degree of truth. Despite the fact that their enemy's question is clearly rhetorical, the hero's mind latches onto it and tries to pick it apart. What can they do, if they are a mere tool for someone else's use?

"We can hope we're not meant to be sacrifices," the hero eventually responds.

"Touché," the villain acquiesces. A slight smile rises on their face as they take in the space around them, evaluating the hero's apartment design with a critical eye. Eventually, they take a deep breath and announce their departure. "Well, while I'd love nothing more than to stay here and pester you, I'm afraid I've worn out my welcome."

"You were never welcome in the first place," the hero mutters darkly. The hero never invited their enemy over, after all.

Unfortunately, their remark only serves to amuse their enemy. "Now you're getting it," the villain grins, flashing them a mocking thumbs-up before promptly turning down the hall and disappearing from sight. The hero stares at the empty space they occupied for several seconds before finally submitting to the urge to bury their head in their hands in disbelief and irritation.

lol these two are great

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#defectivehero #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #hero and villain #creative writing

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sarnai4 · 11 hours

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Understandably Grumpy

I have read up on some things with Damien Wayne and the hate he was getting for the longest time never made sense to me. I'm not sure if it's still there, but I feel like it's not really fair. Can the kid be rude? Heck, yeah, but so can a lot of real kids. Can he be cocky? Same thing. What sets him apart for me is that backstory. It's not to say that he gets the right to do whatever he wants, but it makes sense. This kid was raised by someone called the Demon's Head. He's going to be at least a little messed up. He was created from the sexual assault his mother committed so that a worthy heir could be made. In many versions, that's all he was to her and his grandfather. They didn't view him as family, he was a weapon. He was supposed to become this cold, unfeeling soldier who would kill anyone who was deemed deserving of death. He knew only this for the most formative years of his life. Bruce's childhood ended at 8; Damien's never started.

It's not until Damien meets his father and the Batfamily that he gets love in his life. I feel bad that he basically found the most therapy-needing hero family in the DC Comics, but you get what you get. This is still better than the rest of his biological family. The arrogance we see has been instilled in him. He doesn't fit in with the others because he's genuinely unlike them. There's this conflict in Damien. He's the only Robin who's biologically Bruce's son, but he's also the one who's the least like the family because of his past. He should be able to bond with Bruce, but it's so difficult. The very code his father works hard to uphold, he's been programmed to break. He has to fight himself whenever he fights an enemy. Do the others understand him? Of course not. They can't. They can try to, but they'll never truly understand what he's gone through or what he's currently going through so that his new family won't think he's a monster. The beauty of it is that they don't need to understand fully to still be there to support and care for him.

I saw some of the Teen Titans movies where Damien joined and learned to apologize for being mean, even going so far in a later movie to try to help Terra come to terms with her own demons so that she could embrace their family like he was learning to. For these reasons, I believe Damien is a Robin with so much story potential. He's just fascinating and a classic bad boy with a good heart. I hope he gets some love from his kinder family and the audience.

#dc comics #dc universe #batman #batfamily #batfam #damien wayne #dc damian wayne

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skywqlkergf · 2 days

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champagne coast — james kelly

summary : when james knows he's going to be going to prison for a long time, he stops at your house one last time.

requested by @motelofmermaids

the rain poured down hard, echoing against the tin roof of your trailer. you sigh and try to find something half-way decent on the cable channels that were coming in through the storm.

a loud knock on your door startles you but you're quick to answer the door. james kelly stands before you, hair matted to his forehead from the rain. it's been some time since you'd last seen him, but you'd be damned if you're gonna leave him out in the rain.

you side stepped allowing him into the space, “jamie, what are you doing here?” your voice came out a little cold but it wasn't your intention.

“baby, i need you one last time. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again,” he closed the door, leaning against it.

“james, what d’ya mean? what's going on, talk to me please.” he pulled you close, calloused fingers gripping your waist.

“i’m going away, darlin, ten years or somethin’. please just one last time, can't go away without feeling that pretty little pussy around me again.” he sighs, forehead pushed against yours. his cock hard in his pants, just thinking about you.

“oh jamie, what did frankie get you into?” it was a rhetorical question, and you let him pull you close. this was the man that you thought you'd spend the rest of your days with.

he sighs again, before enveloping your lips with his, rough and fast. fingers bunching your shirt, trying to pull you as close as possible. he always has a way of making your brain turn off, his lips shutting down any sign of coherent thinking.

your hands climb up his chest, wrapping themselves around his neck. he gives you a little tap on your hip, signaling to let him pick you up. your legs wrap around him as he boosts you up, pinning you against the harsh wood of your front door.

you can't help but whine into his mouth, he groans in return. one hand holding you up, and the other rubbing circles on your clit through your pantines.

you throw your head back, it's been so long since you'd been touched, not to mention someone who knows your body like it's his.

“fuck, doll, you're so wet f’me. think you're ready?” his movements don't stop, but he's looking into your eyes, he needs to make sure you're okay.

“ready, jamie, please fuck me.” you’re needy for him and if he doesn't fill you up soon, you might combust.

he just shoved his pants and underwear down just under his cock. pushing your panties to the side, he's running out of time. or at least, that's how he feels right now.

there's already sweat collecting on the back of your neck. he pushed his cock into your cunt, cursing under his breath as your walls swallow him.

“always take me so well, pretty girl.” you're a whining mess, only being able to babble out his name over and over again. his hips piston, letting the head of his dick hit that special spot, thr one makes you feel like you're falling apart.

you bite into his shoulder, needing some grasp of control as you're being ruined by your high school sweetheart. he groans out because of it, making him go even faster.

“fuck baby, you close?" he asks, gruffly. you nod, hastily against him. he continues to rub harsh circles on your clit making you come with him.

“jamie!” you moan, basically scream as you cream around his cock, his cum filling up your unprotected cunt. he smiles lovingly down at you, helping you down and onto the couch.

he cleans you up and sprawls on the couch with you, “wish i didn't have to go,” he sighs and presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“i’ll come visit you, jamie, i promise. don't try to force me away, promise me you won't.” he looks away from you at your confession, a disgruntled look on his face.

“a decade is a long time, doll. I don't want you to wait for me. it's not fair to you,” he sounds so sad. like he thought he didn't deserve someone who would want to wait for him.

“that’s my decision, not yours. you don't get to choose that for me.” your voice is soft, you're not upset with him. you just love him.

“i love you, baby. thank you.”

#shut up callista #james kelly x you #james kelly x reader smut #james kelly smut #james kelly x reader #james kelly x y/n #james kelly x y/n smut #james kelly blurb #james kelly fic #james kelly fanfiction #james kelly imagine #james kelly smut blurb #james kelly x you smut

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rocksibblingsau · 1 day

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What are some head cannons you have for Country Branch? I loved the one you did for Classical Branch.

Amongst Country Trolls, most of his 'crazy preparedness' is seen as decent levelheadedness. At his worst he's comparable to the town eccentric who claims his cows can predict the future. Honestly homesteading comes with it's fair share of madness so he's really doing fine.

He doesn't have hooves and similar to Rock!Branch he needs protective gear so I like to imagine cowboy boots were invented for Branch! They might even have fake hooves (like Hickory wore) made for Branch so he feels like he fits in.

As a kid it was kind of like 'Bring your kid to work day' every day for him. He'd sit in the mayor's office and he organized stuff for Delta. He absolutely loves it.

Was jokingly named 'Branch Dusk' to match 'Delta Dawn' because he was her shadow since for years he mostly just followed her around, and he was kinda her opposite a bit.

He invented special crop coverings that helped stop harmful insects from eating their crops and help the soil retain water.

Candy isn't very common to the country clan, and there isn't a wide selection. Molasses or honey candies and licorice, along with candied fruit slices/peels. More common of a sweet would be baked goods like fruit pies, molasses cookies, jams and cakes. Not cakes like we know of, like vanilla or chocolate with icing. Look up 'composition cake' for an idea of what kind of cake they'd have! They also have ice cream, but it'd be more of a 'sweet cream' flavor, but maybe with fruit added! Branch is very fond of Country sweets, being considered to have an average sweet tooth amongst them. I like to think that most country trolls have trouble with Pop troll sweets, maybe even most other tribe sweets.

Branch loves canning, and he was already planning on learning about it. Canning is very serious business. Improperly canned food can kill you. Delta was very happy to see how seriously he took learning it, as kids attention spans can be... questionable. Most kids don't get to help with the actual canning process, helping out more with filling cans or prepping the vegetables/fruits.

One of his little body language quirks is he often grips his belt buckle when his hands are at rest.

He's sometimes frustrated by his lack of extra legs because the others can buck trees to help the fruit fall. He tried it and just hurt his foot and Delta Dawn was very clearly trying not to laugh while she iced his foot.

He doesn't notice that he gains a Country accent until he meets with Poppy and she points it out.

Holly Darlin thinks he's the cutest troll this side of the Kississippi.

He was really excited when his cousin Clampers was born. He helped Delta watch her egg and Clampers switches between his hair and hers. She likes how big Delta's hair is, but she sees Branch a bit like a big brother so he has that advantage.

Likes sitting on the porch in a rocking chair when it rains and looking at Delta and saying 'We needed that.'

Delta Dawn is both the Mayor and Sherriff, and Branch is her Deputy. Growley Pete is the jailer, but he's not very good at it. As Deputy he ends up having to deal with Hickory coming to turn in bounties.

Branch has not told his Ma that the bounty hunter who takes up most of the bounties flirts with him because the second he does there won't be any more bounty hunter who takes up most of the bounties.

#sibblings qna #country branch au #trolls branch #delta dawn #clampers #country troll culture #trolls hickory

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neet-elite · 2 days

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↳ EVENT 26. M!Whitney (Hybrids & Incest)

Pairing: M!Whitney / CowHybrid!F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,516 Warnings: hybrid, hint of a/b/o?, heats, stepcest, pseudo incest, degradation, name calling, tit play, lots of nipple sucking, milk drinking, blowjob, creampie Prompt(s): 02 — hybrid(s) + 07 — incest Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: words cannot describe how excited i am to be indulging in hybrid content... for as much as i love it, i very rarely write it... but its so much fun, isn't it? a/b/o content is probably top of my list of fanfic tropes, and paired with incest too ??!! ur spoiling me <3 although it's only a hint of abo relating to the whole "heat" concept but yknow... ty for this good time!

You always were a handful, weren't you?

From the moment you entered his life, honestly. Look, Whitney, meet your new baby sister! Remember, you have to look after her as her older brother! And, well, all he really heard was: new victim. He could immediately tell that you were gonna be trouble. Big round cheeks for him to pinch at in private, seeking his (mis)guidance whenever possible. You almost make it too easy for him to bully you, right? As if you want him to coax those cute fat tears from your pretty little doe eyes with harsh words, pouting up at him so sweetly as he berates you for God knows what now.

So he's not surprised to hear of your adventures when you arrive home from an extended stay on the farm. Worried he was, frantically searching for his favourite victim high and low, but he'd never indulge you in such details even when you hobble home to his heavy arms. The whole... Cow transformation had caught him off guard in the beginning, but he's grown used to it by now. Even thinks you're cute sometimes, which is fucking annoying. Offering you a mere brief hug and a venomous scolding— fuckin' idiot, fuckin' deserve it for wanderin'.

But, oh... Today is a different kind of trouble, right baby? Staring up at him from between his wide open legs, suckling plenty of pre from his red hot tip, cock pulsing in your delicate hold as another shaky sigh escapes him. Only you could have him feeling so out of his depth, watching you with his head tilted in curiosity as you display such insatiable want for your big brother. It's not that he dislikes it, no, far fucking from it. He's just curious, thinking with his cock when you gently start to stroke him up and down too. His gaze settling on your exposed chest, fat with milk tits just begging to have his mouth around them, fuck. He's thirsty just by glancing at them, cock twitching against your lips as you smear precum like you would lipgloss— only you suit his colour best, don't you think?

Heat, you'd moaned at him earlier today. Sugary dulcet tones piquing his interest, something about the farm, tits fatter thanks to the transformation you underwent during your disappearance. He hadn't even made an attempt to understand how or why; too busy drooling over your new lewd appearance to give a single fuck about the reasoning. If you were his favourite thing before, you're certainly even more fucked when it comes to his obsessions now, flicking at your cute little cow ear just to feel the vibrations from your whine travel down his cock. God, he wants to fuck that little throat forever. Gag your whiny tone with his balls resting against your chin, hear you choke on how cute you are right now, thighs squeezing together before he's even had a chance to properly touch you. It's only fair, right? You've effectively asked him to milk you, so he deserves to be milked too, right? And who is he to deny some slut his cock, even if you are his little sister. Doesn't that just make the whole act of filling you up even hotter? Tapping his tip against your lips once or twice before you instinctively open up your little maw, allowing him to easily slip inside with a satisfied groan.

"Fuckin' slut—" He almost growls down at you, your animalistic display rubbing off on him as you moo softly against his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip well enough to have him sitting more upright on his bed. Fuuuuck, it's like your transformation has turned you lewder, an inherently erotic object of affection for him to push around. Because you're asking for it, aren't you? Ears pinned, tail swishing nervously—infuriatingly adorable, if he may add—politely asking for big brother to take care of you now that you're home. And he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't completely in love with how eagerly submissive you are before him, relying on him to make you feel better, pleading for his rough treatment every time you moo softly in appreciation for his dirty words. "Gross," He says, or calls you, he's not really in the right headspace to make the correct determination himself. And even then he's talking about himself too, the way his balls ache to empty inside of you— doesn't matter which hole, he aims to fill em all up eventually. Secretly thanking... What was his name again? Remy? Doesn't fucking matter now, whoever the fuck turned you into such a slutty little beast, slurping all over his fat fucking cock just to get your puffy little cunt all wet for him deserves his thanks. Thanks for giving him the opportunity to pester you from above, a low moan crawling up his throat at the way you slobber all over him; fuck, like you intrinsically know that he likes it all sloppy. "Messy little moo, C'mon, slut— Look at me when you suck me off."

A mistake, he knows it the moment you adhere to his harsh words. Batting your eyelashes up at him, lips tight around the meat of his cock, rosy red cheeks causing his heart to stutter. His tone betrays him, too. Though by the looks of things, your eyes rolled all the way as his tip touches the back of your throat, gagging on the amount of precum your tongue sucks out of him, you're barely fucking there mentally to notice just how much he's enjoying playing with his little sister, huh? The haze of lust in your eyes gently communicating with him, turning his own pupils heart shaped at the way you so eagerly and easily suck his cock. Gag reflex? Gone, a likely result of your supposed heat. He'd only caught glimpses of the effects you tried to tell him because you became so needy so fast, pawing at his fat bulge enough to convince him into letting his cock spring free. And thank fuck he did, running a hand through his hair in sheer pleasure from how much you drool over him. "Are y'enjoying yourself?" He taunts from above, but his words are a little breathy, a pitch higher than normal when you flick your tongue in all the right places. God, it'd be embarrassing to be this close already if not for the fact that you're no better, making big brother feel so good, aren't you? Do you get off on that? Little cunt pulsing at the thought of making big brother cum down your tight little throat, expertly stroking your hand up and down the length left unattended by your pretty little mouth. Fuck he's so in love with the sight of your furrowed brows, his hips bucking once or twice against your face to showcase exactly how good baby sisters lips have big brother feeling.

Which is why he has to push you away so suddenly, hiding behind the guise of more bullying as he tuts at your whines of disapproval, patting his lap for you to pathetically crawl up into— shit, the wobbling your doing is so endearing it almost hurts. Cock throbbing under your soaked slit; he's not doing this to punish you. Rather, he's doing this because he feels like he's gonna die if he's not inside of you soon, playing the role of stern big brother just to make sure you feel all better again. And you better fucking thank him once this heat or whatever is done with, letting you absentmindedly give his cock a quick slippery pussy job until he's decided enough is enough.

"Sit on it, slut." He orders you around, but he's soft with it. A gentleness to his tone that isn't usually there, even offering you a half smirk when you whine so cutely for him. "Promise t'help, y'just gotta sit on it. Let big brother do all the work for you, okay?" a sigh escapes him, growing increasingly frustrated at the amount of stimulation your angel cunt offers him without being inside; he's so close to cumming it's disgusting. The thought alone of fucking his little sister is a turn on enough, never mind to be lining his fat cock up to your hole enough for you to be able to catch on it.

And then it all happens so fast, your skin hot to the touch as you sink down on his length in one fell swoop, his jaw taut as his teeth grind together in sheer awe— you're so unbelievably tight that it feels almost unfair when a needy whine escapes his lips too. Sounds of pleasure soon buried against your neck when you thoughtlessly start to bounce in his lap, as if driven only by primal need to receive his seed. Which is fucking hot, right? To be getting fucked by his baby sister, simply used for his cock like how he's used to many other sluts before. And in a way, he's using you too. Needing to cum more than ever, some part of him deep down does honestly want to help you, too. But God, you just don't stop. Clinging to his neck, arms wrapped tight to press your tits against him— of which he immediately puts space between again so that he can grab at one of them, his other hand supporting your weight at the small of your back despite how often his grip slips in enjoyment.

They've become so fat, y'know? Bouncing up and down with your frantic movements, even more so when he feels the weight of them. Downright fucking hypnotised by your puffy nipples, tongue already lolling out at just the thought of swallowing around them. And so he does, as if magnetised to your tit, dropping his head a little lower and lifting a nipple to his lips, immediately lapping at your sensitive bud while you happily ride his cock like a good girl.

And the sound, fuck, the high pitched mewl his tongue flicks out of you— it has him seeing black from how hard his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Such a simple touch, but that heat of yours has got you feeling extra sensitive right baby? So soft and pliable on top of him, do you even know what you're doing right now? Riding your big brother so well, the squeeze of your cunt around his fat cock prompting more pre out to stain your insides as his, his head growing cloudy the more time he spends pressing his face to your tits, suckling on your pretty little nipple so obscenely; the sound of his slurping surely head throughout the household, fuck, especially when he squeezes at your tit a little more and something hits his tongue.

The taste is sweet, like sugar. Because of course it is. It's you. His cute, cow-like, dick riding, little sister. Of course your milk just has to taste perfect too, his gaze narrowing in horny frustration from how suited to his tastes you really are, literally. Popping off in a daze to squeeze again, just to watch the milky substance squirt out and hit his face. Filthy slut, if he'd have known your cow tits were so full of milk like this, he'd have sucked it all out of you by now. Jealousy burning in his tummy at the thought of being left out, making his feelings known by reattaching to you nipple and really sucking now, intent on emptying you of your milk reserves in a greedy display of ownership. Allowing his hips to fuck up into you in tandem thrusts, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in response to your moaned mooing— it's stupid just how much that dumb little sound turns him on. Makes his cock all twitchy, his balls all achy just from having you act pretty on his lap.

And he can only hope that this isn't a one time thing, pussy drunk as your insides squirm around him in a way he knows must mean you're close. He's fucked enough sluts to know by now that when your thighs start to tremble by his own, you're almost there. Keeping your tit in his mouth, but dropping both of his hands to your ass, holding on to your cheeks to spread them a little; sluts like you always like that, right? To have him manhandling you into position, aiding your bounces with every suck of your tit, nipping on your sensitive bud just a little to stimulate some more if that creamy milk to drip onto his tongue, your cunt choking his cock from how tight you get at his greedy grabbing.

Another moo quickly tumbles from your lips, an urgent sounding one, a cute one, he thinks. But he's got no time to praise you for riding big brother so well, not enough brain power to even think about the ramifications of helping you in such an immoral way— not when you slam your ass down on his lap and start to grind your orgasm out. Rubbing that puffy little clit against his groin, circling your hips atop his cock in such a fashion that he soon follows suit. Pumping a fat load into your little hole, still attached to your nipple, heavily exhaling through his nose, he seethes against you. Writhing under you with pitiful humps inside of your tight cunt, buried balls deep to feel every eager pulse of your insides squirming around him as you cream his cock; he's never felt so fucking good before when filling a slut up. Begrudgingly popping off of your abused nipple only to latch onto the other, being sure to give them both equal attention in his efforts to help you— no matter how much you might whine for him to stop. Your pretty tits are so full, he's constantly swallowing down some of the sweet liquid...

No, baby, you asked for big brothers help, so let big brother help you, he'd like to say. But he's too busy filling you up, milking himself as he milks you, just like he promised. Wrapping his arms around you even tighter even when he's spent, balls emptied inside of you as he pulls you further on top of him. No longer on the edge of his bed, but rather, cuddling on top of it. Nibbling and sucking and licking on your nipple, because he's drunk on your milky taste. He's not even really helping you at this point, just selfishly taking what he wants from you because he's your big brother, and he can do whatever the fuck he wants when you're in this state, right? And as the younger sibling, you have to do what he says. Morals aside, you don't seem to mind the way he can't leave you alone when your cunt continues to try and suck his cock in further anyway, begging for some more of his milk.

And he'll give you some more, once he's had a fill of yours.

#500 event!#dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #whitney the bully #whitney the bully smut

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illubean · 2 days

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Howdy 🤠

So my birthday is this Friday (btw this is a no pressure thing not like that's the deadline 😅) and I was just wondering how the phantom troupe would feel about that [simple HC are fine I know it would be a lot to ask for otherwise]. If that's too much than just these characters are cool

-Uvo, nobu, phinks, shizuku and maybe kalluto-

Order of importance ←⁠_⁠← too →⁠_⁠→

Oh and if reader can be in the troupe but still like "new" so first bday of hers with them yk ┐⁠(⁠‘_`⁠;⁠)⁠┌, HMU if you don't or need anything else.

Have a fantabulous rest of your (__fitb__) ♥⁠╣⁠[⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠]⁠╠⁠♥

Celebrating Your Birthday

Characters: Uvogin, Nobunaga Hazama, Phinks Magkub, Shizuku Murasaki Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

hhhhAAAAAAPPPYYY BIRRRTHHHHHDAYYYY TO YOUU- tumblr needs to bring back the yellow font I NEED MORE VARIETY

Warnings: none

Uvogin

he's probably the most enthusiastic about celebrating your birthday

bro would sneak into your window at like 6 in the morning just to jump on you and wake you up with a loud "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

pls explain to your neighbors that the large, burly man breaking into your home was in fact just your friend (who also happens to be a wanted criminal but you can leave that part out...)

even if you are fairly new to the troupe Uvogin likes all of you guys equally

new or not you are part of the family

his way of celebrating is...not your average celebration I guess?

in his words, he want's to take you to "get drunk and fuck shit up"

and by fuck shit up he probably means steal or sneak into some sort of underground gambling hall and beat up some lowly thugs

even if you're not into that sort of thing he's dragging you with him and doing it anyways 😭

he wants you to have a good time on your birthday, especially since much of the troupe doesn't know their own!! its just his definition of a good time is much different than your average guy...

Nobunaga Hazama

despite his appearance Nobunaga is actually one of the nicer members of the troupe

so if you mention your birthday around him he will store it in his brain for later

he's not as over the top crazy like his friend Uvogin

but he does make an effort to greet you on your birthday

it might be difficult if the troupe doesn't have a scheduled meeting that day

but if he doesn't see you he'll be sure to greet you later when he does

he might gift you something small, like a candy bar or a candle

he wouldn't initiate going out anywhere but if you asked him to come celebrate with you he would

Phinks Magkub

since your new I lwky don't think he would care all that much about your birthday...

he hasn't had enough time to get to know you and you're naturally the troupe member he has the weakest bond with

he does have a kind heart but to be fair he probably doesn't even know your birthday

but if you tell him day of he's like oh hbd

and leaves it at that

you guys aren't close enough yet for him to want to celebrate with you or get you a gift >.<

Shizuku Murasaki

poor baby

she tries so hard to remember your birthday, even if she comes off as nonchalant at times

she has it written on every calendar possible and even put it in big bold letters on her arm the day of

but she still forgot because she wears long sleeves most of the time 😭

it already took her like a week or 2 to even remember your name

but she really is trying :(

she's a sweet girl who values having bonds with each troupe member

she might try and go out to get you a gift but then forgot what she was at the market for

but when she see's the date again for like the 3rd time that day she will go get another troupe member to come find something for you together so they can remind her

she has no clue what to get you so she probably decides on a pastry or slice of cake that she actually ends up paying for

the money was probably stolen but oh well...it's the thought that counts

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