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#Clear Wave Green
rashid92786 · 11 months
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OPPO A2 5G टेलीकॉम पर हुआ लिस्ट, इसके फीचर्स Realme और Vivo के होश उड़ा देंगे
OPPO A2 5G के अद्भुत फीचर्स से जानिए कैसे Realme और Vivo को पीछे छोड़ा गया है। टेलीकॉम पर अब लिस्ट होने वाला यह डिवाइस अवश्य देखें। OPPO की नई स्मार्टफोन, A2 5G ने हाल ही में टेलीकॉम पर अपनी जगह बनाई है। इसकी बेहतरीन तकनीकी विशेषताएं और अद्वितीय डिज़ाइन ने उसे बाजार में अन्य प्रतिस्पर्धी ब्रांड्स जैसे कि Realme और Vivo को चुनौती देने वाली स्थिति में ला दिया है। उपयोगकर्ता अब और भी उत्सुक हैं इस…
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heartnosekid · 1 month
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🌊 the name gaea 🌲
for anon!
🌲-🌊-🌲 / 🌊-🌲-🌊 / 🌲-🌊-🌲
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sweetpianao · 1 month
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ꢤꢆ Erase me from here and set me free . . .
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ꢤꢆ All I wanted was to fly high . . .
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expatiating · 1 year
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hloverheather · 3 months
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physalian · 2 months
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How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3
Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.
Part 1
Part 2
1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)
Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.
There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.
My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.
She was standing /// She stood
He was running /// He ran
Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.
There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.
For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.
Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).
Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.
He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.
2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place
I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.
She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)
Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.
He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.
To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.
3. Lacking flow between sentences
Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.
Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.
From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.
Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.
This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.
4. Getting too specific with movement.
I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.
A ridiculous example:
Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.
Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:
Jack shoves on his running shoes.
*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.
This also happens with multiple movements in succession.
Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.
Or
Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.
Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.
Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.
If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.
These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!
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sonrium · 8 days
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DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem
Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.
Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.
Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.
After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.
Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”
“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.
“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.
“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.
“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”
“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.
Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.
(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)
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imaginedisish · 1 month
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Modern Love (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Hey y'all! Here's something short and sweet. This is based on a request, so I hope the requester enjoys :) No song references here, but "Modern Love" by David Bowie seems appropriate. It's 80s, New Wave-y, and we're in an arcade in this fic, so it fits.
Summary: The team goes out to an arcade, and Logan is his usual grumpy self...but his soft spot for you is more clear than ever.
Warnings: Suggestive content (would totally write a second part with some true smut), tooth rotting fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, cursing, f!reader/afab!reader, grumpy!Logan, Jubilee is a cock block LOL, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 1,685 short and sweet indeed
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“I do not want to be here,” Logan complains, rolling his eyes as the team strolls into the arcade. 
Jubilee skips inside, twirling with excitement. “Well, that’s just too bad, Logan!” She calls, running over to the arcade’s version of Dance Dance Revolution. Kurt is laughing, following at her heels. “Because everyone else is going to have a great time!” 
“Gambit’s winning big tonight,” Gambit says, taking Rogue’s hand in his. “Gambit’s winning chere a prize, he is.” Rogue blushes, letting Gambit pull her to one of the fake slot machines. 
Jean and Scott walk over to an older machine—Pac-Man or something similar, probably. Storm and Charles head towards the seating area near the snack bar in the back, leaving you and Logan to yourselves. Of course. You’re alone with Logan. The person you want but you know you can’t have. 
You’re friends—just friends. You’ve accepted that he’ll never see you as anything more, but it still hurts. 
“So…” You say, trailing off as Logan looks around the arcade. “Not your kind of place, huh?”
“Not particularly,” he says back, his eyes finding yours. You can’t help but smile at that stupid, grumpy look on his face. “You like this shit?” He asks, smiling back at you. 
You shrug your shoulders, noncommittal. “I think you’d have fun if you tried,” you say, nodding towards the crane machine, and walking over. You can hear Logan’s footsteps against the carpet, following you close behind.
You peer into the glass, looking at all the stuffed animals filling the machine. Your smile widens when you spot the cute little turtle in the back—green and brown, wide eyes, and extra plush and round. Logan leans against the machine, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “Which one are we going for?” He asks. We—you can’t help but replay the word in your head. There’s a “we” in this. You and Logan. 
You point to the turtle in the back row. “We’re going for that one,” you say, and his eyes find the green little thing. “Isn’t he cute?”
He shakes his head, grinning ear to ear, his grumpiness seemingly gone now. “Sure, princess, sure he is.” 
Your breath hitches in your throat at the sound of the familiar pet name. You lean down to put a quarter in the machine, trying your best not to overthink the situation. The crane starts up, whirring to life, giving you three tries to win the stuffy. 
You maneuver the crane to the back row, just above the turtle. “Do you think that’s good?” You ask, looking towards Logan. But he isn’t looking at the machine; he’s looking at you, smirking. “What?” You ask, narrowing your eyes incredulously. 
“You’re cute when you concentrate,” Logan says, his smirk unwavering. You can feel the heat rising to your chest as he peers into the machine. He nods, his eyes finding yours again, changing the subject before you can respond to his comment. “Looks good to me.”
You swallow nervously, pressing the button on the top of the stick, sending the crane down to the stuffy. It grabs the turtle, holding it up. It looks like it’s going to make it, but it falls in the center of the glass box. You groan, annoyed as the crane moves back to position. You try again, bringing the crane to the center of the machine, just above the turtle, and dropping it again. The silver claws grip the plushy, but it’s a bad grab—the turtle slipping right out of its grasp. 
 “Fucking rigged,” you mutter, moving the crane over the turtle for the final time. “This is it,” you say, looking at Logan. He’s suddenly shifting closer to you, standing behind you and pressing his front to your back. His arms rest on either side of the crane machine’s controls, caging you in. 
“Much better view from here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. You’re distracted by how close he is. You can smell him—tobacco and pine and musk. “Let’s see if it works, princess.” This is too much. Far more than you can possibly handle. 
You take a deep breath, your eyes surveying the crane’s distance from the turtle carefully, and you press the button. The crane drops, grabbing the stuffy, and picking it up successfully. “Yes!” You say, looking back at Logan. His face is inches from yours. You can feel his breath fan across your lips. Your noses are so close, brushing together softly. He leans in, lips parted. 
“Game over!” A robotic, automated voice rings out, the crane whirling back into position. It snaps you back to reality, and you look inside the machine. There, off to the side just next to the machine’s drop box, is the turtle. 
“Shit,” you mumble, shoulders slumping with disappointment. You know it’s just a game, and you are an adult after all, but you can’t help the frown that forms across your face. “I really wanted him. I was gonna name him Bernie.”
Logan chuckles. “Bernie?” he asks, and you nod. He’s centimeters away from you again, leaning in. “Don’t sweat the loss, princess. You’re cuter than that little thing is anyw—"
“Look what Kurt and I got with our tickets!” Jubilee is suddenly in front of you, a stuffed, sparkly blue dinosaur in her hand. She’s tugging you away from Logan and across the arcade before you can protest. “You gotta dance with me!” You look back at Logan, who’s standing alone in front of the crane machine, arms tucked against his chest. 
Have fun, he mouths. And good luck. He winks at you as Jubilee whisks you off to Dance Dance Revolution. You let her pick the song, and you struggle through the round, your feet tapping to the beat. You and Jubilee are a laughing mess. You know you look absolutely ridiculous, but it’s fun. 
And yet, your mind still wanders to Logan. You think about how close he was to you, the way his lips practically brushed against yours—the ghost of a kiss. You think about the way he caged you in, pressed against your back. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize how badly you’re fumbling all the moves; you don’t hear Jubilee calling your name. 
“Hey!” She shouts, finally bringing you back to reality. The round is over; you missed the entire second half of the dance. “Where’d you go just there?” She asks, concern hidden within her smile.  
You look over to the crane machine, expecting to see Logan, but he’s gone. In fact, you can’t find him anywhere. “Sorry Jubes, but I gotta go see about something,” you say, stepping off the platform. 
Your eyes search the arcade. Gambit and Rogue are at the ticket redemption counter, picking out a big stuffed bear. Kurt is fooling around on one of those motorcycle racing games. Storm and Charles are—uncharacteristically—sharing a soft pretzel, while Jean and Scott share a milkshake. Everyone is here and accounted for except Logan. 
That is, until you notice the puff of smoke in the corner of the glass door at the front of the arcade. You smirk, walking towards the entrance and pushing the door open. 
Logan leans against the brick wall of the building, cigar in his mouth. His head turns towards you, and he immediately takes the cigar out, dropping it to the ground and extinguishing it with the heel of his boot. 
“Hi,” you whisper, standing next to him. 
He looks down at you, smiling widely. “Hi.” He’s leaning in again—so close—and a shiver runs up your spine. “Cold?” He asks, shrugging out of his leather jacket before you have a chance to answer. He helps you into the jacket one arm at a time, his eyes drinking you in once it’s on, trailing up and down your body. “Looks good on you,” he hums. “Way better than it does on me.”
You shake your head, letting your shoulder brush against his. You look over at him and suddenly notice something green and round in his hand. “What’s that?” You ask. But you already know. You recognize the little brown spots and the wide eyes. 
Logan smirks, lifting the turtle up. “Couldn’t let you go home without him,” he says, holding it out towards you. 
“No way!” You shout, ignoring the turtle and throwing your arms around Logan’s neck. It’s instinctive, natural. He tugs you in closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you so much,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “I can’t believe you ended up playing a game at an arcade.” 
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers against your temple. The sudden vulnerability of his words makes your heart tighten in your chest. You stay like that for a while, his lips ghosting your forehead, your chests pressed together. You finally lift your head, looking up at Logan. 
“Lo?” You whisper, and his gaze meets yours, flitting between your eyes and your lips. He drops the plushy onto the bench next to him and walks you back into the brick wall, caging you in, hands on either side of your waist. 
He leans in. “Yeah, pretty girl?” He brings one hand to your hip, gripping gently. “What do you need?”
“Y-you,” you stutter. “I need y—"
His lips swallow your words, fitting against yours like a puzzle piece. The kiss is slow, languid, but you can feel his need in the way he moves against you, hands slipping underneath the borrowed jacket and your shirt to explore your skin. His fingertips drag along your back, relaxing you into his touch. 
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Logan mumbles against your lips. 
Your heart flutters in your chest. “But what about the others?” You ask, nodding to the arcade.
Logan smirks, stealing another kiss. “All the more reason to get back to the mansion before they do.”
“But how are we going to—”
He grips your waist, tugging you towards the parking lot. “I took my bike, pretty girl.”
Oh?
Oh. 
tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie
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nasa · 2 months
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Observations from both NASA’s James Webb and Hubble space telescopes created this colorful image of galaxy cluster MACS0416. The colors of different galaxies indicate distances, with bluer galaxies being closer and redder galaxies being more distant or dusty. Some galaxies appear as streaks due to gravitational lensing — a warping effect caused by large masses gravitationally bending the space that light travels through.
Like Taylor Swift, Our Universe Has Gone Through Many Different Eras
While Taylor's Eras Tour explores decades of music, our universe’s eras set the stage for life to exist today. By unraveling cosmic history, scientists can investigate how it happened, from the universe’s origin and evolution to its possible fate.
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This infographic outlines the history of the universe.
0 SECONDS | In the beginning, the universe debuted extremely small, hot, and dense
Scientists aren’t sure what exactly existed at the very beginning of the universe, but they think there wasn’t any normal matter or physics. Things probably didn’t behave like we expect them to today.
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Artist's interpretation of the beginning of the universe, with representations of the early cosmos and its expansion.
10^-32 SECONDS | The universe rapidly, fearless-ly inflated
When the universe debuted, it almost immediately became unstable. Space expanded faster than the speed of light during a very brief period known as inflation. Scientists are still exploring what drove this exponential expansion.
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1 MICROSECOND | Inflation’s end started the story of us: we wouldn’t be here if inflation continued
When inflation ended, the universe continued to expand, but much slower. All the energy that previously drove the rapid expansion went into light and matter — normal stuff! Small subatomic particles — protons, neutrons, and electrons — now floated around, though the universe was too hot for them to combine and form atoms.
The particles gravitated together, especially in clumpy spots. The push and pull between gravity and the particles’ inability to stick together created oscillations, or sound waves.
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Artist's interpretation of protons and neutrons colliding to form ionized deuterium — a hydrogen isotope with one proton and one neutron — and ionized helium — two protons and two neutrons.
THREE MINUTES | Protons and neutrons combined all too well
After about three minutes, the universe had expanded and cooled enough for protons and neutrons to stick together. This created the very first elements: hydrogen, helium, and very small amounts of lithium and beryllium.
But it was still too hot for electrons to combine with the protons and neutrons. These free electrons floated around in a hot foggy soup that scattered light and made the universe appear dark.
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This animated artist’s concept begins by showing ionized atoms (red blobs), free electrons (green blobs), and photons of light (blue flashes). The ionized atoms scattered light until neutral atoms (shown as brown blobs) formed, clearing the way for light to travel farther through space.
380 THOUSAND YEARS | Neutral atoms formed and left a blank space for light
As the universe expanded and cooled further, electrons joined atoms and made them neutral. With the electron plasma out of the way, some light could travel much farther.
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An image of the cosmic microwave background (CMB) across the entire sky, taken by ESA's (European Space Agency) Planck space telescope. The CMB is the oldest light we can observe in the universe. Frozen sound waves are visible as miniscule fluctuations in temperature, shown through blue (colder) and red (warmer) coloring.
As neutral atoms formed, the sound waves created by the push and pull between subatomic particles stopped. The waves froze, leaving ripples that were slightly denser than their surroundings. The excess matter attracted even more matter, both normal and “dark.” Dark matter has gravitational influence on its surroundings but is invisible and does not interact with light.
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This animation illustrates the absorption of photons — light particles — by neutral hydrogen atoms.
ALSO 380 THOUSAND YEARS | The universe became dark — call it what you want, but scientists call this time period the Dark Ages 
Other than the cosmic microwave background, there wasn't much light during this era since stars hadn’t formed yet. And what light there was usually didn't make it very far since neutral hydrogen atoms are really good at absorbing light. This kicked off an era known as the cosmic dark ages.
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This animation illustrates the beginning of star formation as gas begins to clump due to gravity. These protostars heat up as material compresses inside them and throw off material at high speeds, creating shockwaves shown here as expanding rings of light.
200 MILLION YEARS | Stars created daylight (that was still blocked by hydrogen atoms)
Over time, denser areas pulled in more and more matter, in some places becoming so heavy it triggered a collapse. When the matter fell inward, it became hot enough for nuclear fusion to start, marking the birth of the first stars!
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A simulation of dark matter forming structure due to gravity.
400 MILLION YEARS | Dark matter acted like an invisible string tying galaxies together
As the universe expanded, the frozen sound waves created earlier — which now included stars, gas, dust, and more elements produced by stars — stretched and continued attracting more mass. Pulling material together eventually formed the first galaxies, galaxy clusters, and wide-scale, web-like structure. 
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In this animation, ultraviolet light from stars ionizes hydrogen atoms by breaking off their electrons. Regions already ionized are blue and translucent, areas undergoing ionization are red and white, and regions of neutral gas are dark and opaque.
1 BILLION YEARS | Ultraviolet light from stars made the universe transparent for evermore
The first stars were massive and hot, meaning they burned their fuel supplies quickly and lived short lives. However, they gave off energetic ultraviolet light that helped break apart the neutral hydrogen around the stars and allowed light to travel farther.
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Animation showing a graph of the universe’s expansion over time. While cosmic expansion slowed following the end of inflation, it began picking up the pace around 5 billion years ago. Scientists still aren't sure why.
SOMETIME AFTER 10 BILLION YEARS | Dark energy became dominant, accelerating cosmic expansion and creating a big question…?
By studying the universe’s expansion rate over time, scientists made the shocking discovery that it’s speeding up. They had thought eventually gravity should cause the matter to attract itself and slow down expansion. Some mysterious pressure, dubbed dark energy, seems to be accelerating cosmic expansion. About 10 billion years into the universe’s story, dark energy – whatever it may be – became dominant over matter.
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An image of Earth rising in the Moon’s sky. Nicknamed “Earthrise,” Apollo 8 astronauts saw this sight during the first crewed mission to the Moon.
13.8 BILLION YEARS | The universe as we know it today: 359,785,714,285.7 fortnights from the beginning
We owe our universe today to each of its unique stages. However, scientists still have many questions about these eras.
Our upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will look back in time to explore cosmic mysteries like dark energy and dark matter – two poorly understood aspects of the universe that govern its evolution and ultimate fate.
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.
The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”
It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.
Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.
It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.
They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.
He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.
After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.
And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.
Well, usually, it’d be trash.
Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.
“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”
Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.
Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.
Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.
“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.
“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”
Danny waved vaguely.
“…What are you?”
“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.
“…”
Neither, apparently, was the answer.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”
“…I see.”
“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”
With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.
Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.
“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”
Batman nodded once, sharply.
“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.
——
Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.
And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.
When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.
“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”
“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.
“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”
Batman sighed. “What are you?”
Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.
“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”
Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.
“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”
——
Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf
Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)
Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)
Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)
——
Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*
——
Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:
Sea spirits
Sea vampires
How to parent supernatural kids
How to thank your sea child
Are shells a good gift?
Ocean conservation efforts
Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight
Sea spirits that cleans up beaches
Wayne corporation waste disposal
Companies that dump trash into the sea
*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*
What is “mean girls”
——
Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:
Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*
6K notes · View notes
baby-yongbok · 1 month
Text
OnlyFans
Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader
✦ Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]
✦ Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots
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✦ Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.
✦ CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ✦ A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✧ Masterlist ✧
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Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that you’re hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?
 Is he big? 
How would he feel? 
Wait - how did he not recognize your voice? 
You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but you’ve uploaded voice notes. You’ve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that you’re the only girl that he follows on the site… Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up. 
The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great. 
You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. That’s when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.
 You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesn’t care. He won’t mention it, he’ll just get off to your videos and that’s that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, that’s so normal. You’re so normal about this. 
By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’ll call him back…later.
Not even three minutes later there’s knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. You’re expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. “Are you okay?” 
Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. “I called, you didn’t answer.” You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment. 
“Right, yeah yeah come in, what’s up?” You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. “You have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.”
”I gave that back, didn’t I?” You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. He’s seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but it’s different this time, right? No, it’s not supposed to be different. We’re acting normal. We’re so normal about this.
”Noona?” His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. “Is everything alright? You keep spacing out.” 
Has his hand always been this damn big? That’s all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where he’s holding you. “I’m fine, Jeongin,”
”You usually call me Innie.” He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. “Is this about last night?” 
You pull away from him like he’s on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. “I’ll go look for that jacket.”
You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, you’re acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big? 
Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like… that?  Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace. 
After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. He’s washing your dishes while he hums some song that you’re sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you can’t think straight. Your brain isn’t working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes… In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants. 
Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeongin’s toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. 
You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as you’re about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but it’s only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.
”Ya, noona!” He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. “What the hell? You scared the life outta me.” He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble. 
“Why are you just standing there?” You don’t even hear his question. You can’t hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you. 
The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been… so hot? “Noona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?” 
He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. “I uh, found the jacket.” You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating. 
“Forget the jacket, I’m trying to figure out if -“ He takes another step towards you and you take two back. 
“Okay, so I’ll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.” You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?
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What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?…Why is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that you’ve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you can’t let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didn’t even mean it like that…right?
You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because it’s not what you want. It’s not him, do you want him? 
You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you can’t take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything. 
Before you can even really think about it you’re in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where you’ve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe he’ll love this too.
You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. “Hey there…Do you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.” 
You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I can’t get you off of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.” 
You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that it’s still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.
”I want you.” It’s more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. “I want you so badly that it’s driving me mad. I bet you know that though, don’t you?”
You nearly say Jeongin’s name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. “Tell me that you thought about me too.” 
Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that you’re sure that Jeongin would recreate. He’d explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. He’d rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. He’d be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. He’d be everything.
You didn’t even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what you’ve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you don’t care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.
There’s nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and it’s all for your best friend. All for a man that you’ve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when he’d hold you or play around with you but you’ve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. That’s when the dam broke.
”In- I - I need you.” You almost said it, almost let it slip. “Touch me please, please.”
Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. You’re stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because you’re thinking of nothing but him. Him him him. 
The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re completely overshadowed by your moans. “Make me cum, please please please, m’ gonna cum.” 
Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. You’re panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as you’re ending the recording it finally slips. “Innie”
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After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine. 
Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that it’s all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.
You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldn’t think twice about uploading a ramble, you’d usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It can’t be that bad right?
Nevermind
It’s been about an hour since you posted the audio and it’s gotten back to back likes and comments. You’ve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention. 
You don’t know what it is about it, maybe it’s the username or the energy behind their message but you’re almost a thousand percent positive that it’s Jeongin on the other side of this chat. 
You sound so pretty in your new audio. You’re really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip 
You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble… you shouldn’t reply.
Fuck.
You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that you’re sure that he’s blushing in his bed just like you are right now. You’ve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you don’t even care about the money right now, not when you’re having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man that’s been on your mind. Your best friend. 
When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didn’t. He acted completely normal like he hasn’t been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours. 
You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home. 
Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? I’ll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip
Holy Fuck, that’s a big tip… like, money… that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want. 
You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that you’ve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, you’ll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.
Right when you send the set to the ‘mystery’ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and you’re instantly covered in goosebumps.
Ayen 🥐❣️: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen 🥐❣️: I work late tomorrow but I’m free the day after, wanna come over?
This is suspicious… right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you don’t wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship. 
You’re screaming into your mattress again.
 You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it. 
You never stood a chance. 
You don’t sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. It’s not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isn’t weird. This is normal. 
What’s not normal is the way that you’ve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. You’re not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and you’re fucking enjoying it. You’re addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeongin’s house the next day for your hang out it’s all that you can think about.
You’ve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. It’s not. 
“You seriously never saw that video before?” Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. You’re sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. ”Never.”
They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. You’re too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that you’re sitting next to the man that you’re secretly sexting. 
He hasn’t made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?
Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?
He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.
Bet you’re lookin’ so pretty today, sweetie.  I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what you’re wearing today? 
You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if it’s really him. Yeah, this is your chance. 
You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but you’re choking once again when you actually hear it. 
Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesn’t unlock it. He doesn’t check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you. 
“You okay, noona? You’re spacing out again.” Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth. 
“Maybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldn’t have to daydream.” The other two instigate Seungmin’s teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile. 
“You’d be obsessed with her too if you’ve seen what I’ve seen” He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe it’s just because he’s talking about you to all of your friends. “She’s worth obsessing over.”
“Share her account then.” You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisung’s attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isn’t phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. “Nope, she’s a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.”
Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felix’s gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that you’re the OnlyFans girl so they aren’t actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.
“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, I’m getting a drink.” Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving. 
“I’ll be back.” You mumble but only Felix replies, he’s the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.
Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. He’s grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.
“Hey, did you want -“ 
“Not here.” You whisper through clenched teeth, it’s quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. “Do not message me here, are you insane?” Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.
”What?” You look back to make sure that you’re still alone before stepping closer to him. ”Do not text me here.”
”Why would I be texting you when you’ve been right next to me?” He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. “I think that you’re confused about -“
”You’re I.2.n.8, I know you are. You’re the one who’s been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.” Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. “You promised not to make it weird.”
”I kept my promise.” He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. “I haven’t made anything weird. I haven’t brought it up. It’s you who thinks that I’m texting you.”
He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you don’t know what for. “ Do you want it to be me texting you?” 
The air feels too thick with him so close, you can’t breathe. It’s too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape. 
His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. “Don’t run away from me again, noona.” There’s barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.
”Tell me, do you want it to be me, hm?” He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? “Do you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?” 
You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Is that what you want, sweetie?”
Oh fuck, it is him. It’s really him.
”Jeongin, we can’t” You’re whispering to him so he whispers back. “Can’t what? What are you thinking about? I’ve only asked you a question.”
”You can’t be this close to me.” Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. “This isn’t right.”
”Yeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isn’t right?” Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? He’s been there a couple of times of course, he’s sat in your bean bag chair and he’s helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that you’ve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos… which means that he also had to have recognized you. 
“You knew that it was me the whole time didn’t you?” Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. “You knew that it was my account.” His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils. 
“Maybe I did.” He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. “Maybe I hoped it was you.”
His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, it’s enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. “Maybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.”
His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”
That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.
It’s heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. You’re panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before you’re tasting him again. 
Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, he’s more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.
You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. It’s clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.
“Jump.” His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist. 
You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear. 
“I watched every video.” He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. “I listened to every audio. I saved every picture.” 
He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. “But none of that is as good as this.” You’re panting and moaning into his ear. Words don’t make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick. 
“Do you feel as good as you look, sweetie?” Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. “Can I please feel you?”  His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like you’re electric. You’ve wanted this, you wanted this so badly. 
“We shouldn’t.” Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. 
“We shouldn’t” He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.
“We can’t” It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. “You’re my best friend.” 
“Don’t worry about making things weird.” He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. “Just worry about what you want.”
He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. “You’re not gonna lose me, don’t worry.” Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking. 
 “Touch me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, he’s just going to act like he didn’t. “Say it again.”
“Touch me, Innie, please. I wan’ it.” His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.
“No panties, sweetie?” His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. “I need you, it’s driving me mad.” 
You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. “You’re driving me insane.” He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.
“Please, no teasing, I can’t take it.” He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. “Innie, please I’ll be so good. I’ll be so good for you please just fuck me.” 
He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.
“You’re so tight, noona. So wet.” His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. “Oh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, it’s so hot.”
You’re grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but you’ve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy. 
“Innie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.” He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds. 
“Did you think of me?” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. “When you made your last audio, did you think about me?” You’re shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high that’s dangling in front of you.
“Yes, I did I did, I thought of you.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but he’s pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when you’re filled with something thicker.
“I know.” He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. “You said my name in the audio, you know that?”
He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss. 
You can’t breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. “Shit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.”  You can feel his control dissolving. It’s evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.
“I wanna take my time with you.” He whispers against your lips. “I wanna but I can’t.” He’s whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You can’t even really hear him if you’re being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears you’re completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead. 
“Please, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.” Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, he’s doing his best to fuck you how he’s seen you fuck yourself. He’s doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that he’d jerk his cock to your content.
 “More more more, please. Deeper, I wan’ it deeper.” His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge. 
He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isn’t against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you. 
“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. “Move, please. Please, Innie.”
“‘M gonna cum if I move.” His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but he’s lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.
“I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” That’s all that you had to say to break him. That’s all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.
 His eyes are shut tight as he moves, he’s biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. You’re so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldn’t answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.
“Innie ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.” You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it. 
“Cum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.” His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. “Cum on my cock, noona.”
He’s begging and you’re complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. You’re more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. “That’s it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.” 
His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He can’t take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just can’t help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” With one final thrust he’s pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt. 
He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeongin’s.
You stare at each other, it’s soft and almost comfortable but there’s still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. “Here.” He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.
“Drink this, please.” He’s gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. “Are you okay?”
You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you don’t know what to tell him. “Hey.” He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. “Everything’s alright. We didn’t ruin anything.” 
He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you can’t help but melt into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re just nervous to confront all of this, maybe you’re just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.
He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. “I’m okay.” 
“Let me clean you up and we can talk?” He starts fixing himself up and you can’t help but to snort a laugh. “I feel like we did this in reverse order.”
He smiles as he moves over to the sink. “Yeah, maybe.” The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. It’s quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.
“Your bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldn’t fuck there?” Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here. 
“You never even brought me my drink!” Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you can’t help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up. 
“Are you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.” 
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xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year
Note
Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!
Sorry
MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣
Word Count: 2k+
NSFW below the cut.
Part 2
...
Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.
You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 
“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.
The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.
“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”
“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.
You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 
“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.
“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”
“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”
“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.
“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 
“I know.” 
… 
You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 
You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 
“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.
“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 
“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.
“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 
“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”
Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.
His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.
Miguel was big. 
His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 
You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”
“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.
“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”
“I don’t want to force—”
“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 
Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.
“Then help me.” He hissed.
You needed a new suit. Immediately.
Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.
You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.
Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.
Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 
He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 
His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 
He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.
He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”
Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—
You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.
“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 
Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.
He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.
He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 
“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.
“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.
“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.
You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 
He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.
“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 
Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—
It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.
You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 
“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”
“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.
You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.
“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.
“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”
“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.
You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 
“Miguel?”
“Mm?” 
“You better get me a suit like yours.” 
“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”
“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 
Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.
“Deal, Hermosa.”
...
Quèdate quieta- Keep still
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misswynters · 2 months
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A Stark’s Fury
Cregan Stark x targ!wife! reader
[warning: blood, you getting cut in the arm
[synopsis: You are the wife of Cregan and younger sister of rhaenyra. You get cut in the arm and your son, Eddard, also gets hurt. Which makes cregan furious.
[note | here’s a lil something while i write the final chapter for winters embrace, just a short drabble :) also instead of rhae getting cut it’s you.
[requested: by anon
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The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting an amber glow across Driftmark. Laena Velaryon’s funeral was a somber affair, filled with the mournful silence of the assembled nobles and the soft lapping of waves against the shore. Among the gathered were you, the younger sister of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, your husband Cregan Stark, and your son Eddard, who clung to your skirts, his wide eyes taking in the solemnity of the occasion.
Your silver hair flowed down your back, and your violet eyes glistened with unshed tears as you stood beside Cregan. His strong arm encircled your waist, offering silent support. Despite the warmth of the setting sun, a chill hung in the air, a reflection of the grief that weighed heavily on your hearts.
As the ceremony proceeded, you noticed the tension simmering among the children. Your son, Eddard, stood with Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena, trying to comfort them in their shared sorrow. Your heart ached for them, especially for Rhaena, who had just lost her mother.
When the time came for the family to pay their final respects, you and Cregan approached the bier. You whispered a prayer for Laena’s soul, your voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. Cregan squeezed your hand gently, his presence a solid rock amidst the turbulent sea of emotions.
After the funeral, you found yourself in the grand hall, where the tension between the Blacks and the Greens was palpable. You kept a watchful eye on Eddard, who was playing with the other children. However, the peace was shattered when a scuffle broke out between Aemond and Jace. The sight of Aemond taunting Jace, and the resulting fight, sent a shockwave through the hall.
Eddard tried to intervene, but in the chaos, he was struck and fell to the ground, crying out in pain. You rushed to his side, your heart pounding with fear and anger. Cregan was by your side in an instant, his protective instincts flaring as he assessed the situation.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice a low growl.
“Aemond taunted Jace, and then the fight started,” you explained, your voice trembling with emotion as you cradled Eddard.
Cregan’s eyes darkened with anger. “This has gone too far.”
The confrontation escalated when Alicent Hightower, her face twisted with rage, advanced on Rhaenyra, who was defending her sons. You stepped between them, trying to defuse the situation, but Alicent’s fury was uncontrollable. She drew a knife, lunging at Rhaenyra, but you intercepted the blow.
The blade sliced across your arm, and you cried out in pain, clutching the wound. Cregan’s roar of fury echoed through the hall as he moved to shield you. He grabbed the knife from Alicent’s hand, his face a mask of rage.
“Enough!” he bellowed. “This madness ends now!”
King Viserys, looking frail and distressed, tried to intervene. “Peace! There must be peace!”
Cregan turned on the king, his eyes blazing. “Peace? Look at what your family has done! My wife is injured, my son is hurt, and for what? Petty squabbles and insults?”
Rhaenyra, tears streaming down her face, reached for you. “Sister, I’m so sorry.”
You managed a weak smile, despite the pain. “It’s not your fault, Rhaenyra. But something must change.”
As the maesters attended to your wound, Cregan kept a protective arm around you. He glared at the Greens, making it clear that any further aggression would not be tolerated. The hall was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats and unresolved grievances.
In the aftermath, Cregan insisted on returning to Winterfell with you and Eddard. “We’ll be safer there,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I won’t risk your lives any longer.”
You nodded, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Cregan.”
He kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your cool skin. “I love you. I will always protect you.”
As you prepared to leave Driftmark, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the family you were leaving behind. You took a moment to say your farewells to Rhaenyra and her children.
“Please, take care of yourselves,” you whispered to Rhaenyra, holding her hands tightly. “We’ll be in touch, I promise.”
Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes filled with worry. “Be safe, sister.”
With a final embrace, you and Cregan gathered Eddard and boarded your ship, setting sail for Winterfell. The journey was long, but Cregan’s presence and Eddard’s innocent chatter kept your spirits high.
Winterfell welcomed you with open arms. The cold, crisp air and the familiar sights brought a sense of comfort. As you settled back into your home, the events at Driftmark seemed like a distant nightmare.
Cregan, ever the doting husband, ensured you had everything you needed to recover from your injury. He personally oversaw the maesters’ treatments, and his protective nature brought you solace.
A few hours later, as you sat by the fire, Cregan wrapped a warm blanket around your shoulders and handed you a cup of hot tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked, concern etched on his face.
“Better,” you replied, taking a sip. “Thanks to you.”
He smiled, sitting beside you. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”
You leaned against him, finding comfort in his strength. “I know. And I’m grateful.”
Life in Winterfell slowly returned to normal. Eddard resumed his lessons and playtime with the other children, while you and Cregan focused on the responsibilities of ruling the North. Despite the distance from Driftmark, the shadow of that day lingered.
Later that night, as you lay in bed, you turned to Cregan. “Do you think things will ever be right again between the Blacks and the Greens?”
Cregan sighed, his brow furrowing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The wounds run deep. But we must try, for the sake of our family.”
You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “I want Eddard to grow up in a world where he doesn’t have to choose sides.”
Cregan’s grip on your hand tightened. “We’ll do everything in our power to make that happen.”
Many moons have passed, and your wound healed, leaving only a faint scar as a reminder of the confrontation. The bond between you and Cregan grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity. Winterfell thrived under your joint leadership, a beacon of stability and strength. In the morning, as the first snow of the season blanketed the ground, you stood on the battlements with Cregan, watching Eddard play with the other children.
“He’s so happy here,” you remarked, smiling at the sight of your son’s laughter.
Cregan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Of course he is, this is our home. He’s meant to be here.”
You nodded silently, feeling a deep sense of peace. Your eyes went to the scar on your arm, being reminded of what happened. You looked at your husband, with sadness in your eyes.
“I hope my family will stop this infighting, i wish for all of this today end” Your thoughts began to wonder of all the possible outcomes this conflict can end with. This could very well mean that death will linger in your family. Something no one will ever be prepared for, war costs everything.
The quietness of Winterfell enveloped you as you drifted into a fitful sleep beside Cregan. The room was cold, and the memory of the somber events—the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon, the sharp sting of your wound—still weighed heavily on you.
In your dream, the landscape was bleak and foreboding. A storm raged over a desolate battlefield, its fury tearing at the very fabric of the sky. You wandered through the chaos, a spectral figure in the storm’s heart. Amidst the destruction, you saw a vision of a great dragon, its scales a dim and faded silver, bound by chains of ice that slowly constricted around its body. The dragon’s eyes were filled with a profound sorrow, as if it sensed the end drawing near.
A shadowy figure emerged from the storm—a man cloaked in shadows, his face obscured but his presence undeniably menacing. His voice cut through the tempest, speaking directly to your mind, “The chains of fate are not easily broken. A great loss is coming to your house.”
As you reached out to free the dragon, a dark prophecy formed in your mind, clear as day. “Cregan will face a treacherous choice,” you heard yourself say in the dream. “A betrayal will come from within. Death will follow.”
You awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream lingering like a cold shiver down your spine. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, and a profound fear gripped you. You turned to Cregan, who was lying beside you, his face furrowed in concern.
The sudden movement and your distressed state had startled him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep as he reached out to steady you. His hand found yours, his grip warm and reassuring against your icy fingers.
“My dream,” you managed to stammer, your voice trembling. “I saw... I saw something terrible. A dragon in chains, and a warning about you—”
Cregan’s eyes narrowed with concern, but he quickly sat up, his arm wrapping protectively around you. “What did you see? Tell me everything,” he urged, his voice steady despite the worry etched on his face.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I don’t know all the details, but it felt so real. I fear that something dark is coming, and it will bring pain to us and our house.”
Cregan nodded, his expression resolute despite the alarm in his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly, pulling you closer to his body. “For now, try to rest. You need it” He cradled your body as you leaned towards him, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort.
As you lay back down, you could feel the storm of fear inside you slowly ebbing, but the weight of the dream’s prophecy remained heavy in your heart.
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jaewritesfic · 2 months
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Melon!AU Part 3
The creature's surprise surprises everyone else.
“It understands English?” Dick asks with a thoughtful tone lacing his voice.
“Or recognizes the motion of the wave as something benign,” Damian proposes, tense as a live wire as he keeps eagle eyes on Cass below.
Cass raises her hands, and though she does so slowly no amount of surprise keeps the creature from restarting that odd, piercing warning sound.
“Don't be afraid,” she says slowly and clearly, her hands moving to sign the words as she speaks. “I'm a friend.”
Despite there being no iris or pupil to be found in those glowing eyes, the way they dart back and forth between her hands and her mask is clear to see.
It doesn't stop growling, but it does shift uneasily. 
Cass's hands move to sign without speaking.
Do you understand me?
Nothing, save for the flicking of bottomless eyes.
“Do you understand me?”
The creature twitches, like being asked such a thing is a surprise. It takes a long moment - as if the question must be some kind of trap - before its head jerks in a jittery, hesitant nod.
More than one person's breath catches audibly over comms.
The set of Cass's shoulders softens in a way that telegraphs a smile, one that can't be seen past her mask.
“Nice to meet you,” she says with her voice.
Knows English but not sign, she says with her hands.
Smart girl. With that knowledge she can sign to the Bats without the creature realizing her hands are saying anything different than her mouth.
As soon as nice to meet you spills into the open air, the creature stops growling. For something with such an inhuman, blank face it telegraphs shock and confusion loudly.
Actually, it…it's almost like Bruce can feel those things himself, like something brushing against the base of his brain. It's disturbing and fascinating all at once.
Perhaps the feelings of dread and disturbance being near it causes is more than just fear of the unknown.
If it can project its own feelings, can it also sense theirs? Bruce isn't sure how he feels about that idea.
“Are you hurt?”
Definitely guarding chest. Bleeding.
“Bleeding?” Tim asks. 
“Chest hurts?”
Bleeding green.
“It's bleeding the Lazarus water?” Tim hisses. 
“I'm sorry,” Jason's voice cuts in on comms. “Your creature is bleeding what now?”
“Unconfirmed, but the color is similar,” Bruce says.
Jason is on standby, gracious enough to be patrolling a little further than his usual to cover the gaps while they deal with whatever this is.
Gracious is actually a stretch considering the choice words he'd had about the request when asked. Still, the protests had been more routine than truly venomous.
Bruce suspects he's mostly displeased with not being on site if his siblings need him in the face of a total unknown.
“Do you need help?” Cass's voice rings out softly again.
Doesn't want to admit injury.
“A doctor?”
There are flinches all around as that finally gathers a marked reaction, and a negative one. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, like a million light bulb filaments breaking and fizzling out. The cadence is odd, almost like the creature is trying to speak.
“No doctor! Okay, no doctor. It's okay.”
Afraid. Terrified.
The sound stutters out again, that odd feeling against the base of Bruce's skull and the wide eyes of the creature projecting confusion and disbelief over the easy acquiescence. 
This is not an entity that expects to have its desires or fears cared about. Bruce has a bad feeling it's an expectation borne from experience.
Once again, he thinks with a sick feeling about the fact that he hadn't stopped to consider the creature might be reasoned with until Cass stepped in.
“Can I come closer?”
The creature whines as if it's a frightened stray, not a shadowy nightmare. Its claws click against the pavement in a manner that feels distinctly nervous. 
“Please? I won't hurt you.”
Tired. Can't go for much longer and knows it.
They all watch closely as the creature's eyes flicker up and towards the line of police cruisers and officers at the very end of the alley, then back to Cass.
Its claws keep clicking. 
The pool of green below it might be bigger, or it might just be the new knowledge that the substance is like blood messing with Bruce's nerves.
“I'm coming over. Slow. I won't hurt you.”
Weighing their options. Either me or cops. Knows that too.
True to her word, Cass moves slowly.
The creature's tail lashes and it grumbles its unrest, but it doesn't snarl like before and it doesn't lash out even when she's certainly close enough for those long spindly arms to reach.
Cass sinks to her knees just feet from it, posture intentionally open. Carefully, she offers another wave and a pleased, “Hello. See? All okay.”
Bruce's heart seizes. For just a moment, the wide glowing eyes angled to look up at Cass read as painfully young. Like a frightened child.
“You need help,” Cass almost whispers, hands laying on her thighs in plain sight. “No doctors, I know. But maybe a safe place? Come with me?”
Surely the comms have never been so silent as they are while Cass turns her hands over and extends them, like she's inviting the creature to place its own in her palms.
“Keep you safe. I promise.”
For a long few moments, the creature is so silent and still it may well have frozen in time.
Then there's a mourning keen that nearly buckles Bruce at the knees and the creature is moving. 
Instead of taking her hands, it drags itself forward and grabs at her to a chorus of panicked shouts on the comms. So quickly nobody has time to react, it's dragged itself up to cling to her shoulders and bury its face in her neck.
The shadowy frame trembles when she holds it in return.
Masterpost
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luxlightly · 30 days
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I was at the thrift store today and, as always, I ran my UV flashlight over the glassware to check for uranium glass. It's separated by color I usually only do some quick, broad waves over the reds/yellows/blues since uranium glass is usually clear, white, or green. I have found dyed uranium glass that was brown but fluoresced green and I thought that would probably be the rarest pieces in my collection for a while. Today I check a piece of reddish/yellow glass on total whim and:
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IT'S CADMIUM GLASS!!! Like, uranium glass, it fluoresces under blacklight but it glows orange instead of green and is SUPER rare, even compared to the already rare uranium glass!
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obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months
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How The Elf Saved Christmas
Yandere Rudolph The Red-Nosed Deertaur x Gender Neutral Elf Reader CW: Painful Noncon, nonhuman genitalia, size difference, possessive behavior, possessive sex, jealous behavior, general yandere behavior, rut cycle, reader fucked big stupid, overstimulation, cum as lube, mention of musk Word Count: 1.3k (This is your Christmas gift from me, I hope you enjoy it <3)
It was one of the earliest years since the start of the Christmas holiday. Rudolph had just recently joined the other deertaurs that drew Santa's sleigh. Not only did he have the magic ability to fly like the others, but he also could produce a fog and snow dispelling light from his nose. He was perfect to lead the sleigh.
Well... almost perfect.
A week into December, he started acting out. Behaving aggressively towards the other deertaurs, secluding himself, and acting unusually possessive over the elf who had been assigned as his servant.
That was you. You brought him his meals and made sure he was comfortable. Normally Rudolph was very low maintenance and your job was exceedingly easy. He was always considerate of you and treated you very kindly.
But lately, Rudolph wouldn't let you out of his sight. And snapped at anyone who got near you, especially if you happened to walk by another deertaur. One time, he even looked as if he was about to stab at Blitzen with his antlers.
The reindeer even looked different. His normally kind brown eyes were more frenzied and dilated. The normally straight, soft, brown hair of his human half was unkempt. And his muscular human body was always tense.
The other deer-men knew what was going on. But it wasn't like they could get near you to tell you.
Rudolph was in rut.
And he had determined, subconsciously, that you were going to be his mate.
The other deer hybrids had gone to Santa and apprised him of the situation, but he chose to do nothing about it. Forcefully taking away a rutting deer's love interest could get very dangerous.
Besides, Christmas was fast approaching, and the fastest way out of rut was for Rudolph to satisfy his urges. And really, what was the comfort of one elf compared to the enormity of the holiday? Christmas was at stake.
In your employee contract, you had agreed to uphold the sanctity of the holiday and do everything in your power to keep Christmas safe and running smoothly. If that meant you had to be a cocksleeve for a deertaur to keep his head clear so he could guide the sleigh, then so be it.
But even Rudolph didn't know why he was so irritable or why he was so odd in his behavior towards you. Why the thought of you being near someone else or out of his side filled him with rage and anxiety.
You were completely distressed. Your boss was acting so differently towards you. You couldn't even return to your little hut. Normally, you would be dismissed at nights but Rudolph wouldn't let you leave.
Instead, you were made to sleep in his house and on his soft, low to the ground bedding.
One morning, about a week away from Christmas, you both learned why he was behaving in such an egregious manner.
Rudolph woke up before you did and something about the way you lay sprawled out with your butt up in the air and your pants slightly falling off. You woke something up in him.
All his instincts shouted at him to breed this elf that was presenting themself to him. To claim you as his mate officially.
Careful not to wake you, because he didn't want you to struggle until it was too late, he pulled your red and green pants and candy cane striped underwear down to your knees. Then he proceeded to lower himself over you until he was in position.
You were ripped violently from your dreams as extreme pain rammed through you. Rudolph, now at the height of his rut, had jammed in all in one go and with no prep.
Your tiny elf body squirmed and writhed in confusion and pain, the frantic struggles sending waves of pleasure through his cock which was embedded so well within you.
"Wha-what are you d-doing?" You squeaked out through the pain.
He didn't bother replying.
Rudolph's body was all you could see above you as his strong thrusts moved you back and forth below him.
The act was raw, instinctive, and possessive. Like your personhood was being fucked away by this being much larger than you until you were reduced to his property.
Screams for help barely escaped your body. They went unanswered. Even if someone had heard you Santa would have told them to steer clear.
You cried and sobbed, powerless to remove the brute who was raping you. Though it seemed he finally had noticed the cries of his partner through his rut.
He slowed down his pace, just a bit.
Snow elves were small but extremely resilient and adaptable. That fact, combined with a slightly slower rhythm allowed you to feel a bit of pleasure as your body adjusted.
"Fuck! You feel so tight! You're just so small~ Gotta fill you with cum. Gotta breed. Gotta breed. Gotta breed..."
You whimpered as the deer man lost himself in his carnal desire to fuck you silly.
He slowed down as he came in you, and you thought you could relax. You went limp, but before you could catch your breath he started pounding into you with renewed vigor, roughly pounding you into the bedding.
Cum leaked down your thighs as his heavy balls smacked you. The smell of his musk filled the air and made you a slight bit dizzy.
The seed from the first round of breeding had lubricated you nicely, and he slid in and out of you in a much more pleasurable manner.
"You take me so fucking well!"
Your crying and sobbing gradually turned into gasps and shudders of pleasure as over the course of the next several hours you came over and over until you couldn't react anymore.
You just lay there and take, completely senseless and overstimulated. Weeping not from pain but from the sensations of seemingly endless mating.
Finally he came in you hard and left himself in a while before pulling out completely. His dick left you with a lewd squelch as at least a gallon of semen dripped from your well worn hole.
For the first time in weeks he finally felt somewhat clear headed.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry."
Rudolph picked you up, cleaned you, and fed you. You were too tired to protest.
The deertaur was remarkably tender for someone who had just taken you against your will, treating you like a snowflake that would vanish under the slightest mistreatment.
It was odd being served by him for a change. But you were too out of it to really give it much thought.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more gentle. But I'm not sorry that you're my mate now."
He was still in rut, and every single day leading up to Christmas Eve, he made you endure an hours long breeding session. You smelled just like him. As if his scent was ingrained in you at a cellular level.
Luckily, his rut ended just in time for him to be able to complete his job, guiding the sleigh without a hitch.
You tried to escape while he was out with Santa, but the higher up elves informed you that you had a new assignment.
You had to live with Rudolph permanently to make sure he never got wild again. His partner had to live with him. If they took you from him now, even outside of rut, he'd go insane. And he performed a very important task by leading the sleigh.
You should have felt honored. Not many elves got to personally save Christmas.
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