#anon ask

[demonic0angel]

Maybe Alfred figures out the Bats are haunted, because Wayne Manor has been haunted for longer than Alfred's even been alive and it's just something the people working there had to deal with.

And when Bruce finally asks why Alfred never brought it up, he says he thought Bruce knew already. Like, "There is a whole ass graveyard outside, of course this place is haunted. How could you not have noticed?"

Bruce: B-But...!

Alfred: Wayne Manor is very old! And we even have our own personal cemetery, Master Bruce! What did you expect?

Jazz: Thank you *sips her new cup of tea*

Dani: Thanks! *starts digging in*

Danny: Thanks *takes a cup*

Alfred: *while serving her, Danny, and Dani more tea and cucumber sandwiches* of course, please enjoy your meal.

Bruce: ....

Bruce: *looking at Danny* So all of you are ghosts?

Danny: *munching* yep

Bruce: ... so you're all orphans?

Alfred: *smacks him with a newspaper* Do not adopt the ghosts!

[bunnis-monsters]

First, I LOVE your monster/hybrid posts. Second, you've mentioned in one of your posts about how some bee hybrids are more strict/dominant....

So what if we're being a little bit more bratty/uncooperative with the attendants and some dominant bee hybrid punishes us for being a brat...

Omg when this happens it’s chaos.

You’ve been bratty all week, maybe you’re cranky because you’re tired or just want time to yourself. Either way you’ve been fussy with your attendants and they’re at their wits end.

They adore you, but even they can only take so much.

Every month your attendants switch out so others can have a turn, and in comes a dominant bee.

You go to mouth off to him and he raises an eyebrow. It’s almost like he’s daring you to continue…

And when you do, you’re pinned down, your was in the air as he gives your fat pussy light smacks.

“What was that, my queen? I’ve heard you’ve been nothing but a little grump all week. Do I need to show you what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person?”

Already, all of the other attendants are in an uproar, ready to kill this attendant for him dating to strike the queen’s royal pussy, but they pause when you let out a moan.

Your pussy is drooling, and you’re no longer wearing the same pout you’ve had all week. He sinks his fingers into you, his other hand giving your ass a harsh slap.

They want to be mad, but seeing their queen in such a position…

Maybe fucking the brattiness out of you will be the best outcome for their hive and put you in a better mood…

So the attendants fuck you silly, all getting their own turn to rough you up a little.

The more docile attendants come back to a much calmer queen, and are just happy you’re no longer being fussy.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[daydreamerwonderkid]

At no point ever has Batman shown any sexual desire in a man All of his partners are female Shipping a canonical straight man with another canonical straight man is a disservice to his character and requires Superman a character with a code of honor and upstanding morals to cheat on his canonical wife in order for an extremely out of character relationship to take place

Cozy Soup

Prep Time: 15-20 min

Cook Time: 30-50 min

Serves: 6-8 people

Ingredients

1 lb ground beef or turkey

3/4 cup chopped onion

-Even if you hate onions, I promise they'll taste amazing in this

3/4 cup chopped carrots

1 tsp dried parsley

1 tsp dried basil

4 cups butter

3 cups chicken broth

4 cups peeled and diced potatoes

1/4 cup all purpose flour

2 cups Velveta cheese, cubed

-Alternatively, you can do 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese instead

1 1/2 cups milk

3/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 cup sour cream

Instructions

1. Brown ground meat in a 3-4 qtr saucepan. Once it's fully cooked, drain the meat and set it aside.

2. In the original saucepan, add 1 tbsp butter, chopped onion and carrots, dried basil, and dried parsley. Saute until all are tender.

3. Add broth, potatoes, and meat to saucepan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover with a lid, and simmer for 10-15 min until everything is tender.

4. In a separate skillet, melt remaining butter and add flour. Cook and stir for 3-5 min or until the mixture becomes bubbly. Add to soup and bring it to a boil. Cook and stir again for 2 additional minutes. Reduce heat to low.

5. Stir in the cheese, milk, salt and pepper. Cook and stir until cheese completely melts. Remove from heat and blend in sour cream. Serve.

Optional Garnishes

-Bacon bits

-Feta crumbles

-Shredded cheddar cheese

-Chives

Additional

Highly recommend garlic bread to go alongside this dish. It's pure heaven.

[messymoonmad]

Can Poseidon sing me a lullaby while tucking me in

Just something soft

He sings softly but he won't sing anything other than his own songs

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Can you maybe do some queer platonic relationship prompts? Like activities they can do together, either in their shared home or out in public. It can be a QPR with two people or more.

Queer Platonic Relationship Prompts

Supporting the other one through a difficult time, strengthening their bond

Going on an epic road trip to a place they both (or just one of them) desperately want to see/visit

Working together on achieving a shared dream

Doing a scrapbook together with lots of cool memories

Having a shared hobby they love doing together

Adopting a pet together and taking care of it

Cooking together and trying out new recipes

Doing craft projects for the house together

Playing games together, online and offline

Doing a little bookclub, reading the same book and discussing it

Working at their own garden together, growing their own food

Spending nights outside under the stars

- Jana

[starrletnight]

How do the sky children feel about the different entities or does Sebastian keep them away from it so they don’t get hurt

for the most part, creatures of the blacksite either leave the bugs alone or dont really cause horrible harm,,, exceeepttt . . . .

[ask-tdw-0666]

I would love to do these asks with my followers :3 looks fun!

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[artepti]

Is the one who asked about MK joining the torment

How would Chief and LBD treat their little champion?

How would he have met the monkeys?

Who was the most active parent and who the msot absent?~

Pfhaha- alright, I gotchu, but be warned, my ideas get crueler the more you ask. >:]

Trigger Warning for (implied?) Torture

Of course they make sure neither Wukong nor Macaque would be close, not wanting to risk anything. In truth, any genuine nurturing or parenting would come from Mac and The King. LBD would see such tasks as beneath her, and the Mayor, with his disdain for simians (MK included), would want little to do with him—after all, MK was Wukong and Macaque’s son.

There are many ways to approach how MK would have met the other two, but my love for angst simply pushes me towards the more disturbing route. :]

LBD quickly realized that if Wukong and Macaque had a child, they could create an immensely powerful being—perfect for her plans.

Previous │First │ Next Episode

[fairene]

Could you maybe do a Princess of Monaco with cl16 and they just hard launch their relationship

love your writing

whispers of the crown / cl16 x fem!reader

warnings ⋯ social pressures, fluff, established relationship.

a/n ⋯ thought this ask was cute, thank you for sending it in! got this done in like an hour haha. hope you guys enjoy something a bit different x.

wc ⋯ 3.2k (not proofread.)

the annual monaco royal gala was a spectacle like no other—a glittering event where power and prestige mingled under the light of a thousand chandeliers. you stood at the center of it all, the princess of monaco, a title that carried the weight of centuries yet somehow felt like a cage at times.

your gown clung to you like a second skin, shimmering silk that made you feel both exposed and invincible. the whispers in the room followed your every step—admiration, envy, and just a hint of speculation. you were used to it, the silent judgment that came with your station, but tonight, something felt different.

then you saw him.

charles.

he wasn’t just another face in the crowd, not to you. his presence burned like a quiet fire, standing apart from the gilded masses. the soft tug of a smile played at the corners of his mouth when your eyes met, a secret shared between the two of you.

and just like that, the room felt smaller.

the room seemed to erupt the moment your gaze lingered on him a second too long. the whispers became a low roar, a cascade of murmurs swelling into something palpable. heads turned in unison, like waves pulled by an unseen tide.

“is that—?”

“are they—?”

questions hung in the air, unanswered but charged with electricity. the paparazzi, ever-persistent even in the gilded confines of the gala, sprang into action. camera flashes erupted like lightning, capturing every stolen glance, every subtle shift in your expression.

you felt the weight of their eyes, but it wasn’t the suffocating burden you’d expected. instead, it was exhilarating, like standing on the edge of a precipice and daring gravity to pull you in.

charles didn’t hesitate. in three deliberate strides, he was beside you, his presence anchoring you amidst the storm of attention. he offered his arm—casual, confident, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“shall we?” his voice was low, meant only for you, but the curve of his lips carried the slightest hint of mischief.

you took his arm without a second thought, your hand resting lightly on his. the silk of his sleeve was cool beneath your fingers, but the warmth of his touch was undeniable.

the crowd surged closer, questions shouted over the din of clicking cameras. you heard none of it. all you could focus on was the way charles guided you through the chaos, his composure steady, his movements protective without being overbearing.

“they’re going to have a field day with this,” you murmured, your lips barely moving.

“let them,” he said, his grin widening as he glanced down at you. “they’ll only see what we want them to.”

you couldn’t help but smile at that, a quiet thrill coursing through you. this was no accident. tonight was yours—yours and his. a declaration, bold and unapologetic, played out on the grandest stage imaginable.

as you walked side by side, the flashes of light and the cacophony of voices faded into the background. for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t just the princess of monaco. you were you. and you were with him.

together, you faced the world. and for once, the world didn’t feel so daunting.

the first time you met charles, it was almost laughably mundane. nothing like the grandeur of tonight, no chandeliers or cameras, just the quiet lull of waves lapping against the docks at the monaco marina. you’d slipped away from another interminable royal obligation, drawn to the water like it could somehow unmoor you from the expectations tethered to your title.

he’d been there, leaning casually against the side of a sleek yacht, his phone in hand but his attention elsewhere. you didn’t recognize him immediately—just a man with sun-kissed skin, tousled hair, and an air of ease that felt foreign to your world.

“long night?” he’d asked when your paths crossed, his voice warm and tinged with curiosity.

you’d laughed, a short, quiet thing that sounded almost foreign to your own ears. “something like that.”

he didn’t pry, didn’t ask who you were or why you were wandering the marina in an evening gown. instead, he introduced himself with a smile that was somehow both charming and disarming.

“charles,” he said, extending a hand. “you?”

you hesitated. you were so used to the weight of your name, the reactions it elicited. but with him, it didn’t feel like a weapon. “just call me…” you paused, then offered a playful smile. “whatever you want.”

that was the start of it—what you’d both come to call the in-between.

weeks turned into months of stolen moments: secret coffee dates at quiet cafés, long drives along the coast where no one would recognize you, late-night phone calls filled with quiet laughter and unspoken truths. he made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t in years, like you were more than just a title or a symbol.

but it wasn’t easy. not for him, balancing the demands of formula 1 with the secrecy of your relationship. not for you, living under the constant scrutiny of a nation that saw you as theirs. every decision you made felt weighted, every risk magnified.

“what happens if they find out?” you’d asked him one night, your voice barely above a whisper.

he’d cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady. “then they’ll know i love you. and that’s not something i’ll ever apologize for.”

you’d wanted to believe him, wanted to let his certainty wash away your doubts. but the fear lingered, the knowledge that one wrong move could unravel everything.

and yet, here you were. no more hiding, no more secrets. tonight wasn’t about fear. it was about the truth. your truth. his truth. your truth together.

the weight of your position had always been a constant in your life. every smile, every gesture, every carefully chosen word—measured, analyzed, and judged. being a princess wasn’t just about tradition; it was about maintaining a legacy, a role you hadn’t chosen but one you were expected to embrace. falling in love with someone like charles, a man so rooted in his own world of adrenaline and fame, only added to the complexity.

you often found yourself questioning the wisdom of it all. what if the people didn’t approve? what if your family didn’t understand? every time you stepped into the public eye, the fear of exposure loomed like a shadow, a reminder of how fragile this thing between you was.

charles had his own burdens. formula 1 wasn’t just a career—it was his life, his identity. every second of his day was accounted for, his performance scrutinized by millions. yet, somehow, he always found time for you.

but it wasn’t without cost. you’d seen it in the exhaustion he tried to hide, in the way his brow furrowed when his phone buzzed with another notification from his team.

“am i making this harder for you?” you’d asked once, after a particularly grueling weekend where he’d flown halfway across the world just to spend a single evening with you.

he’d looked at you like you’d said something absurd, his expression softening in a way that made your chest ache. “you make everything worth it,” he’d said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “but it’s not easy. none of this is easy.”

there were nights when the pressure seemed insurmountable, when the weight of his schedule and your obligations felt like too much to bear. you’d fight over the smallest things—not because you wanted to, but because the stress had nowhere else to go.

“you don’t get it,” you’d snapped during one particularly tense moment. “if this goes wrong, i don’t just lose you. i lose everything.”

his silence had been deafening, his jaw tight as he processed your words. but then he’d stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours.

“and what about me?” his voice was low, almost breaking. “i’ve put everything on the line for you. my time, my focus—everything i have to give. but it’s not enough unless we’re in this together.”

it was moments like those that grounded you, his raw honesty cutting through the haze of fear and doubt. he wasn’t just asking for your trust; he was offering his, unconditionally.

and maybe that’s why you’d finally decided to stop hiding. because as terrifying as the risks were, the thought of losing him—of never fully claiming this love—was even worse.

the crowd was a sea of opulence—gowns that swept the marble floors, tuxedos tailored within an inch of perfection. the gala was already alive with chatter and clinking glasses, the air thick with expectation. but when the grand doors opened and you stepped inside, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

your gown was breathtaking, a masterpiece of shimmering gold that clung to your figure like molten metal, cascading into a delicate train that followed your every step. the intricate embroidery glittered under the light, refracting like the sun catching the mediterranean waves.

and then there was charles. his sharp tuxedo was classic black, the lines crisp and clean, but it was his presence that stole the room. there was something effortless about the way he carried himself, like he belonged both on a podium and in the midst of royalty.

his hand was in yours, warm and steady, grounding you even as the room erupted.

gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers following like a tide.

“charles leclerc?”

“are they… together?”

the paparazzi didn’t hesitate. camera flashes exploded like fireworks, illuminating the space in bursts of light. it should’ve felt overwhelming, but instead, it felt like the moment you’d been holding your breath for.

charles’s hand slipped to the small of your back, a subtle but unmistakable gesture of protection and possession. his touch was light yet firm, his thumb brushing against the silk of your gown in a way that made your pulse quicken.

you glanced up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips—a smile meant only for you.

and then you smiled too, soft but resolute, your expression speaking volumes. it was a smile that said, yes, this is real. yes, i’m all in.

the crowd’s reaction was a symphony of shock and intrigue, the room buzzing with the unspoken acknowledgment that something monumental had just happened.

you let charles guide you further into the room, his confidence bolstering your own. every step you took together felt like a statement, a declaration that neither of you was willing to hide anymore.

you were tired of secrets, tired of stolen moments in the shadows. tonight, under the dazzling light of chandeliers and camera flashes, you were finally stepping into the light.

the music shifted, a slow, sultry melody filling the grand ballroom. the lights dimmed slightly, casting a golden glow over the floor as couples began to sway in time with the rhythm.

you felt charles’s hand at your back tighten gently, a silent invitation.

“dance with me,” he murmured, his voice low and close to your ear.

you hesitated for only a second, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing down on you. but when you looked up at him, his gaze was steady, a quiet reassurance that melted away your doubt.

“always,” you said softly.

he led you to the center of the floor, the crowd parting like the sea around you. the moment you stepped into his arms, the world seemed to narrow, the noise and chaos dimming until it was just the two of you.

his hand found yours, his fingers interlocking with yours in a way that felt natural, inevitable. his other hand rested against the small of your back, drawing you closer, his touch firm but reverent.

you moved together, swaying in perfect sync, his every step guiding yours. there was an ease to it, a connection that made it feel like you’d been dancing together for years.

the camera flashes didn’t stop, their bright bursts punctuating the intimate moment. you knew the photos would be everywhere by morning, headlines speculating, dissecting, scrutinizing. but for once, you didn’t care.

charles’s gaze locked onto yours, his expression soft yet intense. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

you smiled, the kind of smile that came from somewhere deep, somewhere untouchable. “i’m better than okay.”

his lips curved in response, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there, in front of everyone. instead, he twirled you gently, spinning you out before pulling you back into his arms, closer than before.

your heart raced as you rested your head against his shoulder, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. his breath was warm against your temple, his hold on you unshakable.

around you, the flashes continued, the room abuzz with murmurs and whispers. but inside his embrace, it was quiet, the rest of the world slipping away.

“let them look,” he said, his voice a low rumble that only you could hear. “this is ours, not theirs.”

and in that moment, you believed him. because while the cameras captured the spectacle, the love between you wasn’t for show. it was real, raw, and entirely yours.

the next morning, the world woke up to you.

“princess of monaco and formula 1 star: a royal romance revealed!”“charles leclerc steals the show—and the princess’s heart!”“monaco’s golden couple: love in the spotlight.”

tabloid covers were plastered with photos of the two of you on the dance floor, his hand at your back, your gaze locked on his. social media buzzed incessantly—fans, critics, and curious onlookers dissecting every detail. your dress was trending, his smirk immortalized in a thousand tweets, and the hashtag #royalromance skyrocketed to the top of the charts.

the reactions were as varied as the people giving them.

your family was the first storm to weather. your father had called before sunrise, his tone sharp but laced with something you couldn’t quite place—concern, perhaps.

“you should have warned us,” he said, the weight of his words heavy.

“would it have changed anything?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer.

silence stretched across the line before he sighed, a long, drawn-out exhale. “he seems… respectful. we’ll discuss this further.”

charles’s world wasn’t spared either. his fans erupted in equal parts delight and heartbreak. some celebrated his happiness, their social media profiles flooded with edits of the two of you. others were less kind, their jealousy bleeding into bitter comments.

“how does he have time for this when he’s supposed to be focused on racing?” one tweet read.

but it was the people closest to you both who mattered most. his childhood friends texted him with teasing congratulations, while his team principal offered a wary but approving nod during their morning meeting.

you both found solace in the few who didn’t see you as headlines. your closest friend, charlotte, had texted a simple, “finally. you look happy.”

by the time the day faded into night, you and charles found yourselves back in the privacy of his apartment, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world.

you were curled up on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, holding you close. the television was on but muted, the images of your own faces flashing across the screen.

“we did it,” you said, your voice soft.

he tilted his head to look at you, his smile easy and warm. “we did.”

there was a moment of quiet between you, the kind that only comes after a storm. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, his presence grounding you.

“are you scared?” he asked after a while, his voice steady but filled with a quiet vulnerability.

you thought about it, letting the question settle. “a little,” you admitted. “but it’s worth it. you’re worth it.”

his grip tightened, his lips brushing against your temple. “and you’re worth everything,” he whispered.

for the first time in what felt like forever, the future didn’t feel so daunting.

the sea stretched endlessly before you, a shimmering expanse of blue meeting the horizon. the yacht rocked gently beneath you, the salty breeze carrying a soothing lull. it was just the two of you, tucked away from the world, the chaos of the past few days fading into a distant memory.

you sat on the deck, the setting sun casting golden hues over everything. charles leaned back against the railing, his legs stretched out, his hand resting lightly on yours. the soft rhythm of the waves was the only sound between you, a perfect contrast to the cacophony of cameras and whispers you’d left behind.

“so,” he began, his voice breaking the quiet, “what now, princess?”

you smiled at the teasing lilt in his tone but didn’t answer right away. instead, you watched as the sun dipped lower, the colors of the sky bleeding into the water.

“everything,” you finally said, turning to meet his gaze. “whatever comes next. your races, my duties… all of it.”

his brows lifted slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “ambitious.”

“necessary,” you corrected, leaning into him. “i don’t want to live a life where we’re just managing. i want it all—with you.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his touch was tender, his gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity.

“you make me believe we can have it,” he murmured. “the racing, the crazy schedules, the royal events… and somehow, still, us.”

you nodded, your fingers tracing absent patterns on the back of his hand. “because we’re worth it. and we’ll figure it out. together.”

a comfortable silence settled over you again, the kind that felt more like a promise than an absence of words. the sun had almost disappeared now, the first stars twinkling in the deepening sky.

charles shifted, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his chest. you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reminder of everything solid and real between you.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful, “no matter where life takes us, no matter how loud it gets out there… you’ll always be my quiet.”

you tilted your head up, your smile soft but radiant. “and you’ll always be my chaos.”

his laughter was quiet, his lips finding yours in a kiss that felt like the culmination of everything—your love, your fears, your hopes.

as the stars reflected off the calm sea, you knew, deep in your bones, that this was it. not the end of the story, but the beginning of everything that mattered. together, you’d face the chaos and carve out your quiet moments. because in each other, you’d found not just love, but a home.

and the world, for all its noise, could never take that away.

taglist ⋯

@landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora@idgasb@amalialeclerc@laneyspaulding19@staurdvst@oreosareara@sideboobrry11@mortallyblueninja@fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot@fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[bunnis-monsters]

i don't know if you've seen them, but the krampus parade videos of krampus picking the girl up or kissing them 😍 bunni im begging you

Imagine being that girl.

You’re at the parade, waving and smiling. He notices you, all cute with your chubby cheeks looking so warm and squishy.

You’ve never been before, unaware of the traditions of the village. He’s never seen a woman look quite like you do, so plump with a full figure… it makes him feel hot and his pants tight.

Krampus walks over, easily lifting you, a claw tapping his cheek and of course you kiss it.

That’s when you notice he is NOT wearing a mask and you just kissed THE Krampus.

Of course that kiss was basically him slipping an engagement ring around your finger.

Krampus has chosen you as his bride, and everyone cheers when he carries you away.

He takes you to his den and quickly consummates the marriage, fucking you like an animal~

His cock stretches you out, his hand smacking your ass lightly while his tongue tangles itself with yours. You’re his pretty little mate now, his gorgeous wife.

Of course he stuffs you full of his cum, leaving your pussy drooling.

want more? send me a kofi! ^^

———————

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[edith-is-dead]

random silly prompt

a vampire who has to wear braces

big ol chompers

[demonic0angel]

DP x DC: Danny shows off his collection of dead celebrity autographs. Bruce and Cass want to know if Bruce Lee is in the Ghost Zone, because they both want to fight him. Father/daughter bonding, or something.

Danny blinked. "You want to what?"

"Fight Bruce Lee," Cass repeated, deadpan.

Danny turned to Bruce with a look that could only be interpreted as '????' but Bruce was also staring at him expectantly.

Danny looked between the daughter and father duo, more question marks filling his mind.

"You... both want to fight Bruce Lee?"

Bruce shrugged. "It would be interesting. And a good opportunity to have some bonding time."

Cass beamed.

Danny looked up at the ceiling, wondering if this was some sort of divine joke.

Usually, when people knew about his ghost powers and the fact that he was the king, they would usually try to exploit his abilities for power or money.

In what world would someone try to use his powers to fight his own citizens??

[messymoonmad]

What if I bite Poseidon and

Run away

(Drive by biting.... gonna have to catch me first)

Good job you got yourself a lifetime ennemy. He will chase you down till you cant run no more

[zoe-hartfelt]

//Zoe: Blue! Also guys what about me? Send me answers. Because right now it's just me and my thoughts...

prettyy please send me asks

[cravinghexstrap]

Jinx with hextrap plsss (maybe a bit of overstim?🤭)

She loves fucking you with her strap. It probably gives her more pleasure than it gives you. She’ll most definitely make her own strap that vibrates and spurts fake cum into you just for the fun of it.

———————————————————————

You’re moaning out from overstimulation, on the verge of coming for the nth time already. Jinx is absolutely relentless, fucking into you without care. She grabs your hips and lifts them up to smack your ass a couple times. “Ahh~ fuck-!” You all but scream as she hits all the right spots with the new angle.

“That’s it, that’s my good little slut.” She groans out as she slows down to grind against your insides. Your back arches at the merciless pleasure. It’s too much but you never want it to end.

Your legs begin trembling as you feel another orgasm building up. Your shaking catches Jinx’s attention, bringing a Cheshire grin to her face. She slowly reaches around you and firmly rubs against your clit, causing you to scream out her name.

“Jinx! Please fuck oh fuck god! I can’t- ah- I can’t take anymore!”

“You can and you will, slut.”

You’re on the verge of tears as her thrusts speed up and get more aggressive. Your hands are gripping the bedsheets as hers grip your hips, her nails digging into your soft flesh and surely leaving scratch marks behind.

Your moans grow in pitch and volume, signaling your incoming orgasm. “Jinx please~” you moan out, not quite sure if you’re begging for more or less. “Please what, whore?” Jinx asks, digging her nails deeper into your skin, finally breaking it.

“Please let me cum, please, I need it.”

You continue to beg until two slender fingers are pressed into your mouth, gagging you. “Alright alright, just quit your damn whining. So pathetic.” She emphasizes the end of her sentence with a final harsh thrust that pushes you over the edge, your back arching in ecstasy.

“Yes, please, yes, thank you thank you thank you.” Your body collapses as you thank her, your words completely discernible.

“Yeah, whatever. Now cmon, we gotta get you cleaned up.” She picks up your limp body and carries you to the bathroom, placing you on the toilet while she starts the water in the tub. Once the tub is full of relaxingly hot water she drags you in with her, sitting in between your legs, both of you dozing off into a peaceful nap.