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bongo-clash · 2 years ago

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TWs for: Death, mentions of illness/poison, implied panic attack/flashbacks, and extremely botched ecto-science

The Justice League has known Phantom for a while, now. They’ve fought beside him in several battles in the year, and he’s handled every one of them with an inhuman efficiency and grace. His power-set is strange and extensive, but he’s taught them more about the Infinite Realms than any of Constantine’s tomes ever could. About its history, its cultures; about a particular kind of ectoplasmic corruption that only comes with exposure to oxygen.

It’s this particular detail that Batman remembers, when—after years in sort-of remission—Jason’s eyes glow lurid green, and the tidal wave of the Pit’s rage returns.

It’s hard, to express that level trust, especially with his kid’s safety on the line (one he’s already lost before, that he can’t lose again. Can’t, can’t, can’t). But really, it’s either Phantom or the League of Assassin’s—a group that certainly doesn’t have a great track record of doing right by his children—so Bruce bucks up the most difficult kind of courage, and approaches the other hero after a debriefing.

“Phantom,” He calls out, just as everyone’s leaving. His hands are clasping the back of the chair he’s risen from; one of his older tactics for preventing visible tremors. “Stay behind for a moment. We need to talk.”

Phantom’s shoulders draw in on themselves just slightly as he waves goodbye to the rest of the group, drifting back towards the meeting table with a sheepish smile on his face. He crosses his legs in the air as he says “Man, I feel like I’ve just been sent to the principal’s office. Am I in trouble?”

Despite the tension lining Bruce’s heart, he almost finds it funny. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Phantom. I just wanted to ask for your input on something.”

“Wait, really?” The hero perks up, neon-sign eyes shining. “The big ol’ Batman wants my help with something? I mean—sure, Bats, what’s up?”

Batman doesn’t allow himself the luxury of hesitance, and speaks before he can even think of sighing. “A few weeks ago, you mentioned your belief in the presence of large sources of corrupted ectoplasm on earth. I want your input on the potential effects of this ectoplasm on a living being.”

Even before Phantom replies, it’s obvious the answer isn’t a good one—based purely on the way the ghost’s eyes turn wide and nervous. “A- a living being? Well, um, I don’t—look, ectoplasm in its most basic form is an obligate anaerobe, right? And corrupted ectoplasm comes from a natural portal destabilising, and oxygen breaking through the initial protective layer. So, you’ve got a sort-of-maybe-sentient—kind of depends—oxygen-poisoned anaerobe getting—what, absorbed into a fully living being? If they’ve had no prior exposure to ectoplasm, then best case scenario’s probably death, Bats.”

But Jason isn’t dead. And Jason won’t be.

“…What about a living being who has had prior ectoplasmic exposure?”

He looks at Bruce like he’s hoping this is a hypothetical, but knows with Batman it never is. “So, like, a medium, or…?” Batman only stares. The sigh the ghost gives says more than it should, given he doesn’t need to breathe. “It’s… Batman, if you’re telling me right now that there’s someone out there with even a little bit of a dependancy on ectoplasm, with corrupted ectoplasm in their system—then you need to take me to them. I can’t have any idea how serious this is without more context.”

This isn’t what Bruce had wanted to hear at all. He’d wanted everything to be okay; he’d wanted Phantom to wave him away with a laugh and say it’ll filter itself out on its own in a couple years’ time- and sure, fine, he’d have pushed to the ends of the earth for evidence of that claim, but at least it would have been a little bit reassuring. Jason could be—

No. Jason will be fine. Phantom just needs more context.

“Friday, 10pm.” Batman finally bites out, and sweeps out of the room with all the steel and confidence of a man who will not be losing his son.

To his credit, Phantom does actually show up on Friday, despite the fact that Bruce hadn’t actually confirmed that Friday would be okay. He’s shuffling his feet like they’re touching the ground hands fiddling with the straps of the backpack he’s wearing, and when he looks up, says nothing at all. Taking the silence for what it is, Batman leads him to the Zeta.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been all that difficult to convince Jason to show up. Though he tried to hide it, he was worried about Pit, too; he’d described it to them, a few times, that sludge-like haze that took him over, nausea in places that couldn’t be nauseous—he wanted it gone just as much as they did. More than they did, probably. When Bruce had told him someone in the Justice League might know what to do, he’d barely even complained about clearing his schedule for the night.

Phantom takes one look at Bruce’s son, and promptly blanches.

“Holy shit. Dude, that has to hurt so bad.” Seeming stuck between getting closer and coiling away, Phantom looks at Batman, and then at the Red Hood, back forth.

Bruce can’t take his eyes off Jason, for all that he can’t see an expression from beneath the helmet. “What is that supposed to mean?” Batman asks, barely refraining from a growl.

“It’s—you’re like, the closest thing to a revenant a guy can get without being a revenant and, y’know, forming a core. You’ve got some natural ecto in you, but it’s completely swamped by the corruption trying to breach it.”

Jason doesn’t move, but Bruce can see the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides, trying to look relaxed and perhaps succeeding to Phantom, but not his father. “Right, yeah, cool. That’s great,” Red Hood replies, voice made forcibly neutral by the helmet’s modulator. “Laymen’s terms, if you’d be so obliged?”

Phantom shrugs, also trying to look causal- but, unlike Jason, both of them can tell he’s uncomfortable. “Okay, so we’ll call the ectoplasm death energy. You’ve got some of your own—which means you’ve either died, got really close, or you were exposed to natural death energy some other way—and you had that before you came into contact with a corrupted source of death energy. But then you came intocontact with this corrupted death energy, and it got absorbed into your system. If you had a core, which is this thing that ghosts have, that would be, like, urgently bad. It’d basically rot your core once the corruption reached it and you’d cease to exist without intervention.”

He pauses for a second there, just to let them absorb that information before continuing. “As it is, you don’t have a core, so the corrupted ectoplasm- sorry, death energy- isn’t going to kill you or anything. But it’s definitely not good for you. You need oxygen to live, obviously—the natural energy makes you kind of a microaerophile, but we don’t need to worry about that right now, because the corrupted energy is an obligate anaerobe that’s already been poisoned by oxygen contact, and it’s trying to take over the energy you already have to save itself. But… it can’t save itself. All it can do is just keep clinging on so it doesn’t rot away completely. Your energy is renewing itself enough that the corruption isn’t going to rot you by extension, but you can probably feel it doing something, can’t you?”

Jason, apparently, decides this is a ‘helmet-off’ kind of conversation now (he only does that when he finds it hard to breathe; Bruce wishes he could make this easier on his boy—), and releases the catches on the back of his hood with a mechanical hiss.

“I get angry.” He admits carefully, trying to keep his expression blank. “It feels like somethin’ in me starts rebelling against itself, and I end up lashing out at everything. It… yeah, it does hurt.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know about this sooner.” Phantom says, tone soft.

Red Hood waves him off immediately. “Not your fault. But, you’re here now; can you do anything about it, or is this just somethin’ that’s gonna have to run its course, or whatever?”

“I can separate it,” Phantom answers quickly, reassuring. “It’s trying to cling, but it isn’t actually part of you. The corruption can be removed. The only thing is just, y’know…”

“Know what?” Batman says, suddenly nervous; thrilled beyond beliefto hear that his son won’t have to suffer anymore, but dreading getting his hopes up. Dreading the but.

The ghost looks back at him. “I think I mentioned that normal ectoplasm can be a little bit sentient? Or, well, gain sentience?” Batman nods stiffly, Jason’s glitch between stilling and fidgeting. “Yeah, it’s been clinging to you for a while; this stuff’s probably going to come out as a ghost of its own, and I highly doubt it’s going to be friendly.”

Jason stares. “But you said the stuff can’t exist without leeching off me?”

“Yeah,” Phantom nods, something unpleasant on the tip of his tongue. “It won’t last long without you, but it might try to attack, or reabsorb. You can’t let it reabsorb.”

“Figured that, yeah.” Red Hood scoffs. “We doing this now, or what?”

Phantom hesitates, but assents. “I’ve got some gear in my bag. We can do it as soon as you’re ready.”

…

It takes them a few minutes to get kitted up. Phantom shows them the spectre-deflectors—explaining how he’ll separate the corrupted ectoplasm from Jason, and how he’ll have to put the deflector on immediately after to prevent the corruption from reabsorbing—with Batman wearing one too, just in case. Phantom can defend himself just fine, and the corruption will likely only take a few minutes to completely fade. They don’t even need anything else.

Jason is looking around like he can barely believe what’s about to happen and, quite frankly, Bruce can hardly comprehend it himself. Jason’s struggled with the Pit Madness for years, and to have an option to get rid of it, once and for all? It’s like a dream Bruce never wants to wake up from; he’s wished for this for years. He’s wanted so desperately for his son to be happy without something looming in the shadows, and all at once, it’ll finally be over.

When Phantom asks if they’re both ready, it takes only half a moment to push past the surreality of it all and say yes. Red Hood readies his deflector, and with one crack of his knuckles, Phantom reaches through the man’s chest, and pulls something out.

…Someone. Phantom pulls someone out of Jason’s chest.

Someone red, and yellow, and green, and crying.

Oh God. Oh God.

Jason doesn’t even look up until his deflector’s secured, and Bruce is so, so glad his own was fastened long beforehand, because it’d have dropped from his hands the moment his eyes fell on white-out domino. He’d expected the corruption to look like a monster; Batman had been prepared to steel himself in the face of an incorrigible beast trying its damnedest to cling to his son. He hadn’t expected, not even for a moment, that the leech poisoning his kid would look like a little boy.

The one he lost in a warehouse five years ago.

He wants to call out to Jason not to lift his gaze, but like a film in slow motion, his son’s head raises, and his whole body freezes, twitching back like he’s been doused in cold water. He stares like he’s seeing everything, and nothing at all.

Robin—the corruption, turns to Phantom with a snarl on his lips (Its lips. Its. He cannot think of this like his son. He cannot think of this like his son when Jason is right there in front of him).

“YOU!”It roars, in Jason’s scratchy fifteen-year-old pitch, shooting over to Phantom with its tiny, green-gloved fists clenched tight enough to creak. He hadn’t known it would be able to speak. “What did you do?!”

Phantom looks as if he’s about to say something, but the corruption’s attention has already been diverted. His (its, its, its) eyes are set on Jason.

“Why did you-?” It cries out, choking on its own tears, face contorting into a grief and an anger Bruce had never seen on his son’s face until it was too late, rushing towards him. Jason takes a stumbling few steps back—and he isn’t fast enough to avoid the corruption’s reach—but it doesn’t matter anyway, because the spectre deflector lights up, and the ghost wails as the shock reaches it. The electricity seems to destabilise it, too; its form glitches and seems to melt a little.

Bruce feels sick. This corruption that was trying to kill his son is heaving huge, gasping sobs, falling apart at the seams, and Bruce feels like he’s about to throw up. “What’s happening?” He croaks. “It-it hurts, I don’t understand.”

And then it turns its see-through little head to Bruce, teardrops rolling down splotchy cheeks still round with baby fat, and his heart drops right through his stomach and out to the other side of the earth.

“…Dad?”

No.

Bruce stumbles backwards, whole body trembling like his chest’s the epicentre of a personal earthquake, barely saved from falling by a weak grip on the Batcomputer chair. He wants to look away, but all he can see is his baby’s crestfallen face, dying all over again, and he doesn’t want to see this but he can’t stop watching.

The ghost lurches forward again and this time, Phantom silently flicks a hand out, and some kind of green forcefield forms around it. The silhouette of his fifteen-year-old son beats at the shield. His cries are muffled by it, but Bruce can still hear them. He can’t help but think that this is what Jason sounded like in Ethiopia, crying out for a father than would never get there in time. His son’s dying all over again, and he’s just standing there.

“Let him out.” Bruce pleads, voice rasping. “We have to save him.” He can see it through the green tinge of the barrier: Jason’s fading fast. The tips of his fingers and pixie boots are disappearing into thin air.

Phantom turns to him with utter devastation in his eyes. “Bats, that’s not Jason.” He says, just as the twenty-year-old son that came back tumbles knees-first onto the floor, head leaning forward until his forehead touches stone. It’s the smallest he’s ever seen him in the last five years.

That’s what snaps him out of it, if only for a moment. He falls over himself reaching for Jason, curling around him like a blanket of kevlar and heartbreak. This close to his son’s head, he can hear the quiet hiccuping of tears.

They sit there, for the world’s most unbearable two minutes, as a version of his son pretending to be his son sobs and screams and falls apart. Bruce’s surroundings blur between the cave and a warehouse on the horizon, shimmering like a mirage under a hot African sun—his son is right here, safe in his hold, but he’s dying over and over, infinitely again, and Bruce can never stop it.

Two minutes later, the world rings out with “Dad, I’m sorry!” and a muted scream, before silence is the only thing that’s left.

…

Phantom gives his boy a completely clean bill of health, promises that his uncorrupted ectoplasm will sustain itself just fine without any further intervention, and leaves the moment Batman asks him to.

Jason is free from the corruption that had been draining him like a leech for the last five years, and so long as he doesn’t go back to the Pit, he’ll be free of it for the rest of his life. He won’t have to hurt people with an anger he can’t control anymore; Bruce will no longer have to watch his son suffer from a rot welling deep within him ever again.

This should be one of the happiest days of his life. But that night, he and his second oldest walk to a hill with a tombstone at its peak, hiding beneath the shade of a yew tree; neither of them acknowledge that the other is crying beyond the barest glimpse of fingertips ghosting together.

In time, this will be a good day, but the relief comes later. For now, they sit down beside each other, worlds away, and don’t move until the sun rises the next morning.

(Jason apologises to a boy he will never be again—that he left in a coffin and never took with him—and Bruce apologises to son he could never save in time. In the end, the only evidence they have of their grief at all is a phantom scream in the wells of their ears, and a stone on the top of a hill with nothing underneath it at all.)

Short DPXDC Prompts #770

Danny cures Jason’s pit madness.. only issue is the pit madness reforms as an evil ghost

#I know this said *evil* ghost but I got carried away thinking #About what the worst possible thing I could do with this prompt would be #And then this happened!!#The corruption is more like?? A death echo I guess?? The agony of Jason's demise lingering within him and poisoning him from the inside #Or a parasite that clung so hard to Jason that it became a mimic of him and what he was almost??#Bruce didn't get to see his son's last moments the first time but he gets a Front Row Seat here HHJSDFGSDJ #Every time I think I'm normal about Jason Todd #I remember the metaphorical ghost looming over his shoulder that both is and isn't him and I descend into madness once again #Have you ever heard that thing that's like. Once someone is dead they have always been dead?? You can never see them any other way??#Literally Jason with his Robin-self #And like. Displaying that self-mourning through an actual manifestation of everything that he was and never will be again??#He upsets me so much I'm obsessed with him #The ectoplasm being an obligate anaerobe thing is a reference to an ectobiology hc post I made like. A Million Years Ago #It's completely incoherent but I'll link it in the comments of this post if someone asks lmao!!#Also if there's any spelling/grammar errors ignore them I am. A Bit Sick.#dpxdc #dpxdc fic #Bongo's Writing!!!#Bongo's Reblogs!!!

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lxdymoon0357 · 1 month ago

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Hello, I would like a request from the manhwa, I became a rival of the male protagonists of yandere +18 Benjamin Lemberk with a nomadic elf reader who, upon seeing her for the first time, becomes obsessed with her. She has the appearance and personality of Florentia Lombardi, please.

(NSFW CONTENT, warnings: unprotected sex, (this is fictional, y'all..Be safe), face sitting, hair pulling, clit play, dacryphilia, putting out cigarettes or cigars onto skin, pain kink, humiliation kink, spanking, dumbification. somewhat toxic? A bit cringe, OOC but not really, he's just a cruel bastard. Mostly jut NSFW headcanons, nothing too elf-ish specific, I'd say, sorry. Fem! Reader. Reader has ginger-ish hair. Florentia Lombardi! Reader)

Benjamin Lemberk X Elf?Reader NSFW Headcanons

ஐ Benjamin Lemberk, is a man of certain taste, having somehow fallen out of Claudine's loving circle, has his eyes kept tight on the little nomadic elf, that became his new loving obsession. Of-course how far do you think you'll go before you crawl back to him? Not too far off, of-course. It isn't long before you're under him, crying as thrusted his dick into you, while you clawed at the blanket.

ஐ Of-course he does. His hips moving in circle, the balmy skin slapping on skip as his cock basically scoffed to the hilt inside your folds, your eyes dazed as you whined, your ass against his thighs as he moved fast and rough, laughing through his groans every time you cried out and clawed at the sheet and begging him to be nicer.

ஐ His hand shoving your face into the sheets, while you tried to stay dignified, act all poised and elegant all you want in public, but you're not getting any point or shred of dignity while he's fucking you. His fingers just roughly rubbing and pressing down on your clit, making sure you're crying till you can't breath, only sobbing into the sheets-

ஐ He makes sure you're not even breathing, if he could have it..his hand is his favourite necklace on you, squeezing your throat to feel your gummy walls squeeze down on him, trying to milk him for all he's worth, till you're almost passing out, only that's when he's removing his hand and instead grabbing your hips to pull you down on his cock.

ஐ With the rather optimal option to fuck your throat, he just loves to stuff your mouth full, your gags are his personal music, your throat his personal pocket pussy, he just smirks down laughing at you when you're crying, spitting out his cum which he'll only spread across your face using his tip..He has shame in fucking a little tease, his personal cock-tease.

ஐ Giving you backshots, till it sounds like he's playing bongos on your ass...till you're going dumb on his cock, your ass jingling with ever swat he gives, noe hand stuffed with your hair, pulling it to pull you back every time you tried to escape his grip, fucking your pussy and swiping his hand on your clit, your juices coating his hips as he moved them in circular motions to hit that spongy g-spot with accelerations in his hips, pulling your head back to arch your back till you're gasping on his cock..

ஐ He doesn't just hit for pleasure, if he's gonna hit it...He'll hit it till your mind breaks. Bejamin's hands trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers, dragging you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He’s oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a mean, sweat-slicked palm, “Don’t tell me yer hah- tapping out after only three minutes?”

ஐ He'll humiliate you in public if he doesn't get what he wants at times, his hand gently squeezing your throat and if he's not getting what he wants right then and there..he's gonna make sure he'll get more than enough, he'll overindulge in your fucking cunt till he's breaking you apart-

ஐ Half-way through, when you're barely registering anything, he'll make you use your own powers on yourself. Making sure his little elf is kept under his control, he kisses your ears, bits them gently, leaving hickeys or tiny bite marks on them, shoving your face down in the covers, till he can only see your pointed ears twitching while you're out your md and mindlessly causing plants to sprout from random places due to the heat of the moment.

ஐ He loves to see you struggle with registering anything, the biiiig stretch of his cock till you're feeling him in your tummy, crying as your legs kick out when his swipes his thumb on your clit till he swats on your juicy cunt..covering his hand in juices, putting out his cigarettes on your back of your thighs if he's especially upset at you.

7 minutes, 28 seconds.

"Ah-ah-ah..Hah, fuckin' tease..this is is-ngh....what you wante', no?" Benjamin smirks on top of you, his hand bundled up in your ginger-esque wavy hair, pulling it back with his fist bundled in it as he moved his hips ahead, every hit causing you to swing forward. Ben's movements aren't just rude— He's cruel and mean and so SO painful-

Your hips thrashing into the sheets as you whined, your legs quivering as you tried to claw at the mattress, moving ahead a bit just as his hand hits your ass, before kneading it in between his fingers,

"Beenjiii- Ah-Ooooh...fu-fuck, ha-...ha!" barely formulating words, his mean hips kept hitting into that one spot. Any words formulating were now simply washing away with every thrust he hits like he's mad at your G-spot

Benjamin snickers down at your little form, one hand tightly bundled into your half gingerish-hair half your usual hair colour..his other hand smoking a cigar softly, smirking as he hit his hips meanly.

His eyes fell on the mirror just ahead of you while he was blowing out smoke, already steaming up due to your laboured breathing and drool, as you kept whining, "Bennnn, hard-harder-more...want more-mo..want more..!" you kept whining, HIS mindless little fuckdoll.

Soft tits glissading up and down up and down the sweat-slicked plane of the wide, cushiony satin pillows. So drunken. So pliant. And he can’t help but plant a soppy smack! against the hooded of your puffy clit with one free hand.

Only making you let out a soft and whiny "Oooooh...! Beennnjiii" arching your back and shoving your ass back onto his cock, your cunt doing most of the talking to speak how much you needed him to fuck you, all while stretching his name as if it'll get you more sympathy from him.

No-It can't be...? Can it?

His smirk almost widens as he takes a slow drag from the cigar as he pulled out and shoved you to turn you on your back and pull up onto his lap using your throat roughly. Moving his tip around to cover his tip with your juices like lipgloss, while your cunt kept crying with the sound of sluck-sluck! every time Benjamin moved his hips around to grind against your puffy lips, before simply shoving his cock deep into your cunt.

Breath hitching choppily, he’s grabbing your throat - dragging you like some ragdoll until you were only mere condensed inches away from him. You couldn’t be…could you?

"Too-Hah...biig...hah-Hmm Bennn-" You back arching, your tits pressing against his wide pecs, which he take the chance as he blows out smoke from the cigar, before ht stubs it on your midriff, causing you to only whine out softly, grinding down your shimmying hips onto his cock.

Oh.

But of course he can’t leave his dear elf-ish wife hanging - especially not when you’re all fucking yourself stupid on him like this within only 7 minutes and 28 seconds, no no no..!~

He can almost smile at how humiliating will it be in your prideful face, now turning into lewd like a little slut..

Tongue stuck out, lips glossy and covered in drool, tits and ass all red from spanks...Your powers going haywire to produce tiny flowers at random spots on your skin or causing the plants you kept near his bed to overgrow into large wild plants..

He can only smirk, his cock-drunk little elvish-slut..How perfect she looks, dumbed out for him??

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queenendless · 6 months ago

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🍑 TIME

A/n: The twerk GIFS got to me! All credit for the GIFS involved goes to @screampied for the Gojo and Sukuna ones, @heian-era-housewife for the Shiu Kong one, @mahgyu for the Geto one, and @blkkizzat for the Toji one. THNX U ALL for the glory that is JJK TWERKING~!

🔞 MDNI CONTENT. JJK men twerking for their lives, sub!JJK men x dom!GN!reader, ass cheeks clapping, ass slapping, ass marking, ass eating, ass abuse, cum time, impromptu ass piece. Also first time writing Sukuna and Shiu so go easy on me.

©️ PLEASE DONT PLAGIRIZE, COPY, TRANSLATE, EDIT, REPOST, AND ETC TO MY FAN WORK. Rather like comment reblog share and follow cause I personally want to reach close to 1k follows on this blog by the end of the year pls n thnx.

SYPNOSIS: OH, TWERKING IN YOUR FACE, BIG ASS MISTAKE~

GOJO with his cheeky ass grin growing every passing moment you demanded he strip those skinny pants down. Boxers included. Shameless heathen. Hanging over the bed's edge as you straddle his skinny thighs. You drum those bare melons like your own personal bongos. Granted, your cheeky bastard asked for it. And those loud passionate mewls of his earned him your red hand prints on his rippling hills. Literally chewing on them peaches came right after, your nose poking out of his ass crack while your mouth sucked his asshole, having him come one too many times against the strewn sheets to both your likings. Stroking his veiny coated dong between his lower valleys made it that much more tasty to suck him off, with his cock cumming again in your very grasp.

"Ohhh, honey loves my buns~! Yes you do – AAAAAH~!"

GETO bashfully blushes, his veiny knuckles pressed hard to his mouth to muffle his grunts and moans of painful pleasure as you spanked, clawed and teethed on those supple succulent peaches quite insistently. This cult head laid on his side along the mat covered platform, clawed the sheets with his free hand as his legs spasmed with those poofy ass pants hung off his calves like pooled up velvet. The ministrations your tongue gives drives him mad. Slobbering and slithering into his hole quite deeply with skillful strokes before suckling downwards. Like his pecs, his peaches smothered your face cheeks. Teasingly nipping at his leaky balls had his dong spasm and spurt in your face. You licking his cum off your face right into his had him squirt longer and harder.

"D – Darling~! Don't ever st — stop – AAH~!"

TOJI the physically gifted super human slash sorcerer killer that he lazily splays along the couch on his ripped tum tum, his ass practically jutting out right in your burning face, browsing his phone casually. Only to literally crush it in two with his giant beefy hand. Straddling his hips, you press his form into the cushions, as you knead and massage his chiseled cheeks, digging your nails in, before sucking aggressively to the point where your lip imprints are scattered along his now reddening bruised skin. His hips buckle sporadically right into yours but with such steel restraint not to literally shoot you up into the ceiling. The couch cushions however were torn to shreds as his stream of feral profanity fills the air as does his guttural carnal shouts of fervor.

"FUCK baby~! Starving for me already huh — NGH SHIT~!"

SUKUNA the literal King of Curses would be as amused as he would be resting his head atop two folded arms along his Malevolent Shrine, letting you lay atop him while you smack his cheeks together just to hear his skin clapping. On top of biting, tugging on his skin between your teeth, and nuzzling them fine giant melons had you on Cloud 9. His other two arms would possessively gripped on your hair to tug on now and then as well as fondle and smack your own bare tussy, his mouths popping out of his palms to layer bloody bite marks on you to get even. Raunchily making out with his a-hole had his giant cheeks suffocate your face, nearly passing out in the process from the light headed state you were left in his clapping cheeks freed you just to smack his double dripping dongs in your face to shower you in cum to lick off yourself. Guess he did get excited.

"Oh human~ To think you would react to that so sinfully~ Interesting~"

SHIU the mediator of dealings between the shady and the shadiest should have known you'd be down for a show and what it would entail at the end. The burnt out cig between his lips would fall out. Strewn across his marble work desk, you lounged in his rolling desk chair as you massaged and groped his peaches to loosen up his fatigued state. Leaving deep imprints engrained into mounds blushing in thanks. Too much workload means easily becoming mush in your titilating touch. Rutting within his fist now coated in creamy thickness as it dripped down his work pants pooled around his ankles. Wiping up some cum from his fist to your fingers, wiping it along his crack, to suck it up sloppily, including right up his hole. That got him moaning out passionately.

"Mmm~! Love, please don't let up now~! So GOOD~!"

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bongo-clash · 2 years ago

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:O I wrote a fic kind of like this a couple months ago!! Not exactly the same, but if anyone's interested here it is lmao!!

Or on Ao3:

If you go with the halfas not needing o breathe or have their hearts pumping 24/7 idea:

Danny in the tv show is the exact type of person that would play dead in order to prank Dash and you can not change my mind.

I don't mean pretending to be nonresponsive, I mean full on flopping to the floor and stopping his heart and breathing when Dash is in the middle of beating him up in some secluded area of the school. Let Dash believe he just killed Danny only to have Danny show up like nothing happened the next day.

#I'll take this down if OP doesn't want additions but!! Thought I'd put it out there if anyone wanted something like it lmao!!#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #Bongo's Reblogs!!!

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fagus-sylvatica-beech-hedge · 8 months ago

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reblog for fandometrics and sample size etc etc

#dan and phil #dan and phil games #daniel howell #phan #dan howell #amazingphil #phil lester #danisnotonfire

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kaifougere666 · 27 days ago

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I made a short animation including Joxter, with the song bongo bong of Manu Chao

Please go and like/comment the video, don't let it flop !

youtube

Also, my tweening is slightly improving yay

Likes, reblogs, comments heavily appreciated

Also, here is the lip sync bc I'm proud of it

Tumblr fucking ruined the quality I wanna kms but whatever

#artists on tumblr #ibispaintx #animation meme #joxter #the joxter #moomins #the moomins #joxter moomin #joxaren #Youtube

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bongo-smash · 2 years ago

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Okay so I started writing this in the tags-

(That last tag is supposed to be before the 2nd to last one lmao!!)

But then I realised a diagram would probably make more sense So!!

*The little piston thingies are probably stuck to the bottom parts of the katana halves so that, when the sensor is deactivated, they can pull the halves back into the harness again so the katana isn't just. Awkwardly hanging out of his chest when Cass' collapsible is removed

Red Robin (2009) #25

This is actually the reason you two are siblings WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

#I have no idea if this even makes sense but!! It's just a thought and I like trying to figure out how things are supposed to work!!#Don't mind how wonky the picture is my hands kind of hurt rn so I can't draw that well lmao!!#(Haven't put anything on this blog in Ages because there are 2 million thousand reblogs in my drafts Hjshdfgsj)#Anyway have a good day everyone!!#Bongo's Art!!!#Bongo's Reblogs!!!#Bongo's Ideas!!!#tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain

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music-class-quotes · 2 years ago

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alright it's time for the final round of the BEST INSTRUMENT BRACKET

decided to go with the numbers that were easist for me to get, with 2 string instruments, 3 wind, and 5 percussion, to fill out all of our options

also, this poll will be going on for a week instead of a day. i want to get as many people to vote as possible, so make sure you reblog!

#best instrument bracket #not a quote #percussion had a 3 way tie for the last 2 spots #i narrowed it down to the 2 by going off of previous polls #i wanted to fill out all 10 poll slots otherwise i would have only put in 3 percussion

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lightscamerabitchsmileee · 1 year ago

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Vote for your fave, reblog & share your thoughts and other faves (even outside of this list) I would love to hear it 😊😊

Check out my masterpost for the other open polls thank you and have fun 😊😊

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bongo-clash · 8 months ago

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@stealingyourbones Saw this and remembered you like HLVRAI!!!

Silly crossover update after like 2 years let’s go

#I don't actually know anything about HLVRAI other than what you've told me but I just read this and it's super fun so far!!!#I've known about Benrey for 20 minutes but I love him he's a funny dude #Super excited to see what happens next!!!#Bongo's Reblogs!!!

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saintmeghanmarkle · 1 month ago

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Lady C Tea Christmas Eve 2024 (The "Meghan is a Nightmare Across Many Continents" Edition - a few nuggets paraphrased by me) by u/daisybeach23

Lady C Tea Christmas Eve 2024 (The "Meghan is a Nightmare Across Many Continents" Edition - a few nuggets paraphrased by me) Greetings from Castle Goring,I was told something by someone who shall remain rather opaque. This person was on the delegation of Harry and Meghan’s Colombia trip. Oh my, it is so delicious to be told something that everyone suspected. I was told Harry was fine. Nobody complained about him. I was told that Meghan is a living nightmare. She was demanding. She was abrasive. She didn’t want to interact with people beyond the photo ops, including the children. She had to be pressured to earn her keep. She was a nightmare to such an extent that Vice President Marquez stormed off and said she wanted nothing to do with Meghan. She felt Meghan was running up expenses and not living up to her end of the bargain. VP Marquez wanted Meghan there as a woman of color and wanted Meghan to help press that agenda. VP Marquez now realized her judgement was poor to have anything to do with Meghan. And now my bongo bongo drums are beating in a different direction. Netflix wants to dump them. They are trying to find a way to dump them that will save face, save Ted Sarandos’ face, and stop any more money being spent on them. Evidently, ARO is not impressing them. A top executive says they are losers and Meghan is a witch with a B. I have also been given another bit of news. Lady C applauds the NYPD for mocking Harry. She says Harry is an idiot to believe he was in a high speed car chase near Times Square.Lady C, why didn’t Netflix do any advertising for POLO? Do you think Netflix wanted it to flop so they could get out of their contract? Your reasoning is very interesting. Netflix did not promote POLO at all. I don’t think Netflix wanted it to flop but early on realized they had a flop on their hands. I understand that Netflix cannot stand Meghan and find her very difficult to work with. They think Harry is stupid and stubborn. They would have loved to have a continuing relationship with Harry and Meghan, especially if they had remained Their Royal Highnesses, but they loathe Meghan in particular. They have tarnished their own brand. They have revealed themselves to be uninteresting and unpopular. It will be interesting to see how Netflix extricate themselves. If they can dump Harry and Meghan, they will do it. If they can’t, they will ease them out. Before they even made a program with Netflix, they showed themselves to be unreliable partners because Netflix watched Harry and Meghan give away content to Oprah. I gather Oprah paid money to them, maybe through Archewell.Lady C, I’ve been noticing that the Daily Mail seems to be bending over backwards lately for Meghan. They seem to be absolving her of blame for anything. They say the trouble started when Princess Michael wore the blackamoor brooch. Isn’t it interesting how these stories seem to be regurgitated. Princess Michael wore a moretto veneziano which is a sign of racial inclusiveness, not racial exclusivity. Princess Michael said she was sorry if her brooch caused offense, not that she was sorry. I don’t think she should have done it. She should have explained the history of her brooch and that anything otherwise was misunderstood. This is all rubbish. Meghan always playing the race card.Toodles Sinners!PS…Nothing new from Lady C but I thought I would post anyway. Merry Christmas and I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season! post link: https://ift.tt/Ceq39Ol author: daisybeach23 submitted: December 25, 2024 at 05:55AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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