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#It would be awesome if you guys could learn to use it on me
punkiio · 5 months
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I think the problem you are having with all the replies, is you're using the ship name (g h 0 u I c y, i'm censoring it as well, because tumblr search also searches anon question content) and your posts are literally showing up in the tag for shippers who are just minding their own business trying to look for content, only to be met with some really heavy accusations of condoning abuse/racism. Obviously this upsets them. If you don't want to get replies from Those People, you should be mindful that you're not using the space that they use to look at the ship.
I never said that I was accusing these people of CONDONING abuse or racism?? I said the ship was abusive and that there could be underlying/subconscious racism. Black love interests have always been seen as less desirable by fans and get pushed aside for a white character. Idrc if me saying that offends people. And what other way is there to describe the ship other than abusive? That's what it is
But I've already said this before, I don't want to talk about this ship anymore. I'm tired of talking about and thinking about it. I don't like it. It makes me really uncomfortable, please stop sending me asks about it
And can you guys stop going to my friends and mutuals and start sending THEM anons asking them for their opinions on me because I don't like the ship??? Thanks
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brainrotdotorg · 9 months
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imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like
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🍏gatoridae Follow
Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.
Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.
🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow
counterpoint: fuit yucky
🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow
wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for
4,904 notes
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🌿swamp-ass Follow
asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........
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🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow
mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.
cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.
#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man
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⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow
You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"
🫑teethem Follow
Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.
🤢ch0mper Follow
we've all heard the what
135,633 notes
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🩲gaytorrr Follow
this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake
6,421 notes
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🏞daily-clawsitivity
✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.
mud-rocks-deactivated20140706
Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.
scalesssss-deactivated20150310
jesus christ calm down
alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709
Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.
Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.
stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911
crocs are like. like them shoes that float right
wetlandia898 Follow
i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.
bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412
welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.
🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow
omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash
🎍taildraggers Follow
Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr
🐊gator-heritage-posts
gator heritage post
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aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow
hgwiow h
hsfhjs
howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>
🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow
lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type
#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it
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🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I
🍖meet-eat3r Follow
there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.
🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow
i could have just hatched you don't know me.
20,570 notes
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🍀gatortears Follow
a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion
#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me
1 notes
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👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.
🌾clawstothewalls Follow
okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.
👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow
Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.
2,663 notes
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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What Do You Have There?
A knife!
Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.
They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.
The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.
A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.
"Danny."
"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.
"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."
Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.
"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.
Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.
"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"
"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.
"Why on earth would you display that?"
"Because you stabbed me with it?"
"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"
"That would be mean!"
Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.
"Do you want to see my collection?"
"Your collection?"
"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."
Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.
"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"
Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.
"And when was this?"
"Oh, like a week ago."
"What? When did you go to the docks?!"
"At night. I couldn't sleep."
"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"
"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"
"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"
Danny and Damian turned around.
"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.
"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.
"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."
"What?!"
"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"
With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."
Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"
"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.
Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.
"Oh, wow, I see!"
----
In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.
"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.
----
Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.
"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.
"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.
"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.
"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"
"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."
Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.
"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.
"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."
Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."
And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.
"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."
"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.
"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.
"Do you know which vigilantes?"
"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."
Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.
"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."
Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.
"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."
"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."
"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"
Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.
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suiana · 1 month
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girl. imagine yandere! otome isekai reverse harem and isekai'd reader. except isekai'd reader is chronically online and has no sense of shame.
basically reader isekai'd into the evil villain/villainess's body and was in the middle of getting shit talked by some nobles for something the og villain/villainess did in the novel.
"they're such scum... why are they even-"
"erm, what the sigma? I'll have you know I'm super awesome sauce and can rizz up livvy dunne."
the people are all flabbergasted. what were you talking about? did you finally go mad as well?
"p-pardon?"
"stupid locals. none of you get me like freakbob does."
"???"
and obviously, like every other otome isekai, your new behavior gets the attention of the male leads. they've caught wind that you've changed and they had to see it for themselves. what?? the crazy villain/villainess is no longer plotting?!
...
wrong, you're still plotting. just not plotting evil acts for their attention anymore.
"i wonder if i learn how to control the pigeons could i make them shit on people's heads?"
"excuse me?"
but of course they're enchanted by your... eccentric behavior. so what? they're literally the stereotypical male leads. the cold duke of the north with black hair and red eyes, the powerful mage of the high tower, the crazy mad dog crown prince, and the knight no one really cares for.
you know what actually would be crazy though? if they didn't act like the stereotypical male leads. yeah, that's right. the cold duke isn't actually cold and is a huge puppydog. the powerful mage isn't all knowledgeable and only knows how to use one spell that's super overpowered. the knight is loved by everyone. the crown prince is still crazy though.
anyway not important. you go through the same events as the og villain/villainess with them but because you're acting so different. they develop vastly different opinions of you. oh. maybe you're just a silly guy and not the crazy villain/villainess they thought you were. cool.
however one thing they have in common is the fact that they are all madly in love with you. yeah. that's right. they all fell for you. sure, you say weird things sometimes and clearly don't care about the plot but-
"my dear, shall we visit the garden? it will be a change of scenery from the library-"
"what? are you saying I'm not smart enough? I'll have you know that i graduated top of my class of mogger academy in ohio and became the top sigma wolf."
"i-"
"you're giving such beta energy right now😒"
yeah, they can't understand you. at all. but that's okay! you're still so cute and they just absolutely love you! ever since you stopped being the weird evil villain/villainess you actually became likeable! wow! maybe the genre of this novel will shift to a cheesy romance novel?
there's only one problem!
you don't really love them back!
"darling do you want to marry me?"
"you ask me that one more time and I'm cutting your dick off."
ugh... this is so hard...
oh! maybe they'll band together to keep you with them! it's 4 people against one. how will you ever win? they'll definitely get you this time and you won't be able to escape. and they'll finally get the love that they so desperately crave from you.
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dimepdf · 1 year
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★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
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masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.
─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).
─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.
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IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.
Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.
Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.
Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.
When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.
In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.
Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.
With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.
It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 
His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.
There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.
All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.
"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.
His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.
"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.
Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 
"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 
Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.
"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.
"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."
Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.
"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.
His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.
You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 
Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 
It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.
The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.
"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.
He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.
"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."
You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.
Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.
He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"
"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.
Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 
Your brows creased together in confusion. 
"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 
"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.
You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.
It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.
His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.
"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.
"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.
"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 
Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."
So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.
"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.
"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."
You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.
The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.
And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.
Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.
You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"
A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"
You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."
"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.
Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.
You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 
"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.
His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.
"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."
You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.
Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.
"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."
"...fuck you."
The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.
Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.
"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 
As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.
All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.
As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.
"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.
"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.
Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.
Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.
"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.
Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.
A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 
The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.
Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.
You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 
With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 
Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."
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spacedace · 6 months
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“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
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flamingpudding · 1 year
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Ghost Hunting Vigilantes
Ouija Board Prompt Idea Continuation...? Maybe!
Follow up part directly to this: Ghost Hunting Vigilantes #2
A/N: You guys are awesome. Comments and Reblogs gave me so much inspiration I ended typing this down during Lunch Break. Also I just might have wanted to image Tim going all out on the ghost investigation, I blame watching to many TFIL Overnight videos...
You would think that as Ghost King Danny would be able to learn from his mistakes, and he really could learn from his mistakes but for some reasons, this was something he was not learning from as he floated above the vigilantes curious. He wasn't going to mess with them again, Lady Gotham had beat that into his skull at least. Not like he did the first time but apparently the old city spirit was rather protective of her 'knights'.
Still their first meeting had gotten the Ghost King curious. It wasn't just about the matter with the Red Hood Guy, something he had promised Lady Gothom to take care of as compensation once he figured out what was up with him. But these guys seemed to have gotten an interest in ghost communications now.
So a couple weeks later he was floating invisible once again above them watching the RR Teen - by now he had learned that RR stood for Red Robin and he had snickered at the realization that his hero name was also the name of a Dinner - was laying out cat balls all around the room before setting up some other devices.
The Kid, Robin, was sitting cross legged and arms crossed on the ground and looked very grumpy. Danny could hear the kid mutter something about Pit Demons and that they should get rid of them instead of trying to communicate. The kid had yelled that before and Lady Gotham had never explained that in her lectures about how he should treat her 'knights'. What were Pit Demons? Was that a ghost variant his kingly tutors had failed to tell him about? If they were his subjects and tormenting humans he would need to deal with them, before the GIW became aware of them.
The one in blue, Nightwing if he remembered correctly, was laying out the Ouija Board again at the same place it lay last time. Danny noticed that the guy was looking at the board with curious confusion and for a moment the Ghost King wondered if he had left some traces on the board when his own ectoplasm soaked it.
"Think that ghost will appear again?" The girl in purple was also there again and next to her was another girl dressed in darker colors. Spoiler and Orphan according to Tucker and the city spirit.
"It's a Pit Demon. Stop calling it a ghost." Robin cut it glaring heated at them all. Danny muffled a snicker. The poor kid was definitely not very good at handling the ghostly things but by saying the Ghost King was Pit Demon the kid appeared to be braver about the whole situation these vigilantes were 'investigating' and setting themselves up for.
"I am more worried that Replacement got scammed buying all these things." Red Hood huffed as he was turning around and looking at a controller-like thing in his hands. Danny floated closer looking over the tall guy's shoulder. The thing had five LEDs in different colors and EMF Meter was written on it. Huh, was that thing like the Fenton-Finder? Well his parents had to get the idea for their inventions from somewhere.
A high pitched beep resounded in the room and all eyes turned to Red Robin who was finishing up setting a small box with an antenna. Danny recognised this one from online ghost hunting videos Sam has made him watch as a joke, a REM Pod. Oh so all the stuff they laid around the room including the cat balls were options for him to use? That was pretty nice of them considering the first time they were just playing around with a Ouija Board.
"We are all set up and good to start." Red Robin said as he stood up facing the rest of the vigilantes proudly and Danny arched an eyebrow. "We can now investigate if this 'ghost' is a Pit Demon or has anything to do with the Lazarus Pits or Water and what they want here in Gotham! I missed out on getting a sample last time but hopefully they will be willing to give me one this time."
The Lazarus' what now? Danny blinked at the teen stunned. He had only played a joke on them and Lady Gotham had already sorta punished him for it. If getting hit by a ghost club and lectured on knightly etiquette counted as punishment, which in his opinion did. Why were they making such a big deal out of this anyway?
"Don't we need to… like open a veil and introduce ourselves?"
"No."
"Oh come on Baby Bird. We have to be polite."
"Says the fucker who secretly attempted to use the Ouija Board behind our backs." Red Hood grumbled turning on the controller in his hand and nearly dropped it as the LEDs all started to glow and it let out a long drawn out beep. Danny blinked at it, he was still floating around the tall guy's shoulders.
"Fuck! The hell is with that thing?"
"Oh! Oh! The ghost is already here!"
"It is a Pit Demon."
All the vigilantes suddenly looked a lot more on alert, Danny held back a chuckle as he floated away from Red Hood and over to Nightwing. The LEDs went down to two and Danny suppressed a hum in curriousity. Did Red Hood have a signature that thing was picking up on? Was the guy a halfa in the making? He didn't appear to have any of the signs Vlad had told him about once.
"Hey so are you the one we talked to last time?"
Seeing the board as the closest thing to communicate by him, he reached out and moved that wooden piece to YES. The vigilantes looked among themselves and Danny floated over to the kid that started nervously playing with a cat ball that had been placed near him, wondering if he could send out like a calming aura for the kid.
Lady Gotham hadn't needed to hit him that hard, seeing the kid now made the Ghost King feel guilty for scaring the poor boy the way he did. Even if he didn't know what all that Lazarus Stuff was about yet. He mentally noted that down, maybe Clockwork, Pandora or one of the annoying Observants had an idea.
"So are you a Pi-"
"Are you okay?" Nightwing cut in, interrupting the question Red Robin was going to ask and Danny blinked. Huh that was new. It's been a while since anyone aside from his sister and best friends asked him that.
He floated towards the RR teen and he lightly touched the REM Pod's antenna, it let out a different pitched beep than it had before causing the teen that stood by it to jump up and turn around staring at it with wide eyes. "I didn't touch it!"
Spoiler rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, Mr. Ghost did."
"The ghost could be a girl for all we know."
"It's 16."
"The voice we heard last time sounded like a male teen though."
"It is a Pit Demon, it most likely lied to us."
Rude, Danny didn't lie. He picked up one of the cat balls, it started instantly lighting up because of the movement, and lightly threw it at the kid that caught the ball on reflex. Wide eyed they all stared at the still blinking ball. "Did…. did the ghost just fucking throw that at Demon Brat?"
"I only ever saw in videos how ghosts lightly touch it to make it blink. I have never seen a ghost throw it like that."
Danny snickered into his hand to muffle it. Robin suddenly dropped the ball like it had burned his hand glaring at nothing as his eyes wandered over the room. "Show yourself Pit Demon!"
He floated over to Nightwing and the Ouija Board again, passing Red Hood who was still holding the EMF Meter that hit all five LEDs for a moment and beeped when he passed by. Making the tall guy jolt and stare down at it. He swiftly moved the wooden piece to NO.
After last time and the beating Lady Gotham gave him with her ghost club, he was not going to show himself. Not even with a little ectoplasm-avatar blob form. Okay maybe he will later on, when he was sure they wouldn't suddenly start attacking it again. He didn't see any of his parents' weapons with them but he wasn't going to risk it. Considering what Red Hood had said earlier, Red Robin might have bought some more stuff he had not shown or laid out yet.
"I demand that you show yourself, Demon!" The kid was pulling out his katana looking ready for a fight.
Now that was rude. Danny was a half ghost. Not a Demon. They were an entirely different species. Sure they were sort of a part of the Infinite Realms but like Ghost are formed from ambient ectoplasm, strong wills and emotions. Demons were like a living breathing species that needed to eat actual food like humans and not entirely made of ectoplasm.
Danny didn't move a single finger to respond to Robin's demand, silently scoffing.
"They are not ghosting us now are they?" Nightwing carefully asked after the silence had dragged on. Red Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear if you made them leave, I will not include you the next time we investigate this 'Pit Demon' as you call them."
"Come on guys! We can't give up now. Maybe we can call them back?" Spoiler added, Orphan next to her nodded enthusiastically.
"This thing is still glowing on two LEDs." Red Hood added holding up the EMF Meter for the rest of them to see.
"So it's still around?"
"Probably."
There was more silence and an idea sparked in Danny's head as he suppressed a snicker and carefully floated over to the REM Pod making sure to avoid Red Hood and not alerting the thing in his hand. He crouched by the box, studying it for a little bit and making sure not to touch it to accidentally set it off too soon.
"It's been too quiet. Are you sure it didn't leave?"
"Still on two LEDs."
"This demon is a coward."
"You're not making it better Baby Bird."
"We should have gotten Signal to come too. He probably could have told us for sure if they are still around or not."
"Maybe we should pack up and try another time again?"
"But we didn't even get the ghost's name!"
Taking this as his que to give a sign of 'life' from him again, Danny touched the REM Pods antenna with a certain rhyme in mind. He wasn't hitting the notes correctly but the pitches were different enough from each other that these vigilantes would recognise what he was doing.
They jumped at first at the sudden noise until slowly realization dawned for some of them. The girls started to laugh after a moment and Red Hood also chuckled with the realization. Nightwing didn't look exactly ecstatic but he did seem ready to burst out laughing. Robin looked rather confused and annoyed and Danny wondered if the kid had any meme knowledge while Red Robin groaned but then appeared to smile in good humor.
Once Danny stopped playing with the REM Pod, Red Robin walked over to a table and put the case under it on top. He opened it and placed a raidio looking like thing on the table as well as a camera with a screen on it.
"Now, Mr. Ghost. I know you have a voice we heard before but you seem to appear to prefer not talking to us directly and whatever made you talk last time doesn't seem to be around tonight. So I have a spirit box and a SLS Camera additionally prepared here." Red Robin switched on the 'radio' and it started making white noises filtering through radio channels, he turned back towards the room holding the camera up with the screen facing the teen. The other vigilantes also appeared stunned by how prepared Red Robin was. Danny could only blinked as he realized that Red Robin was pointing it directly at him and for a second he wondered if that thing was actually picking up his movements or if it only picked up static or blurred images like the cameras back at home that were not old film.
"Let's have a talk this way, shall we?"
-Seriously?- Danny muttered making sure he was using ghost speech so they wouldn't hear him only to slap his hands in realization over his mouth as the Spirit box statically repeated his words understandable for them.
Wide eyed he stared at Red Robin who grinned triumphantly at him, he was still invisible at least... right?
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lilybug-02 · 10 months
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Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨
I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨
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It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…
Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞
Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!
(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)
I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐
You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐
Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥
My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.
I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.
Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!
Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!
I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)
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Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao
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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month
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Tim Through the Years - Meet the Class
Series Masterlist
Summary: Tim meets your class of 25 five-year-olds. 1.2k+ words.
“Hey, can I run something by you?” you asked Tim while you were having lunch at his desk.
Tim looked up at you mid-bite of his shared sandwich. He chewed quickly and asked, “Of course, is everything okay?”
You softly bit your lip. “Yes. I know you aren’t a fan of community outreach, but will you come to my class and talk about safety and what to do in an emergency?”
Tim gave you his million-dollar smile “I’d be more than happy to come and talk to your class. I get to spend a whole morning with a beautiful lady.” He leans over and kisses you. “I also get the added bonus of being away from Lucy, too.”
You shoved him slightly. “I think you like the latter more.”
“Hey, that’s police brutality. I might have to handcuff you to this desk all day and then you’ll have to hang out with me.” Tim smiled as he spoke.
“Aw! You two are just so cute!” Lucy said when she walked up to the desk.
“Hi Lucy, how are you?” you turned and asked her.
“I’m doing well! Do you think we can have a girls night with me, you, Angela, Nyla and Bailey? We could go paint pottery or watch a movie or go laser tag or…." Before Lucy could finish, Tim sent her a glare.
“Can I help you with something, Officer Chen?” Tim growled out.
“Our suspect is ready to talk,” Chen said to Tim.
“I’ll see you later,” Tim told you as he kissed the top of your head.
“Bye Tim! Bye Lucy! We definitely have to get together soon!”
You wave them off as you pack up and leave. 
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You paced back and forth before school started, waiting on Tim to arrive. You were extremely nervous because your students, while awesome, were very protective of you. They’ve stopped a presentation before because the man who was talking about his job told the class that they could do better than being a teacher. The poor guy got booed and slightly bullied by the group of 5-year-olds, so you just hope that today goes over well. Tim texted you to let you know that he would be a little late due to the fact he saw a crime being committed right in front of him.
When the bell finally rang, your group of students walked into the classroom all chatting away with each other. They put their bags up and sat down in the respective seats (it took a while for them to get down). 
“Good morning everyone!” you tell the class when the second bell rang.
“Good Morning Miss. Winchester!” they responded. 
You started the morning off with doing some freeze dance to get the kids ready to start the day. When that was done, you picked up right where you left off from yesterday. Some students still shouted out answers, but others would remember and raised their hands. You found it adorable how much they enjoy getting to learn. Soon, there was a knock at the door. 
“Class, we have a very special guest today who is going to talk to us about safety.” You walked up to the door, you let Tim and, to your surprise, two more officers in.
“IS THAT A DOG?!?!?!” a student named Ashley shouted.
All the students erupted in excitement, and you had to use your quiet hand gesture to try and settle the class as Tim, a K9 officer, and a small dog walked up to the front of the class. 
“Class, Meet Sergeant Bradford from the LAPD,” you announced to the students.
“Good morning, students, as you heard, I’m Sergeant Bradford, and today I’m talking about safety. Firstly, I brought two special guests with me, Officer Stan with his K-9 Officer Fuzz.”
Officer Stan smiled and greeted the students as Officer Fuzz, a small dachshund, barked excitedly as a greeting.
“I brought Officer Fuzz in today so you can understand what a K-9 is used for and when to approach one,” Tim explained.
“Officer Fuzz is used like any other police officer; he helps us find bad guys and can catch bad guys faster than we can. Officer Fuzz can run up to 20 miles per hour, so we typically send him in to run after someone. Officer Fuzz also helps smell out bad stuff for us to take away. You can approach a police dog at any time with permission from the Officer. If you do see a police dog chasing after someone or he looks angry, do not approach. He could accidentally hurt you because he’s trying to protect his fellow officers or trying to stop someone,” Officer Stan explained. “Any questions?”
Lots of hands flew into the air, so you called on a girl named Hanna to ask the first question. “Does Officer Fuzz stay at the station all the time?”
“That’s a great question! No, Officer Fuzz is technically my dog. So, when I get off work, he gets to go home and be with me. He also goes in when I do, so just like me, Officer Fuzz gets to be a normal dog when he’s not working,” Stan said.
The students continued their questions about Officer Fuzz and his handler. Before Officer Stan had to leave to go back to work, he released Officer Fuzz so he could run around and receive pets from everyone. Officer Fuzz ran up to you last and laid on his back for belly rubs.
“Aren’t you the cutest?” You bent down and gave the tail-wagging dog belly rubs.
“You might have some competition, Bradford,” Stan said with a smile and slightly nudged Tim. Stan called back Officer Fuzz and they both left with waves of goodbyes and a huge “Thank you!” from your students.
“Hello again! I want to tell everyone what to do if they feel unsafe or lost. If you get away from your mommy or your daddy, find a store worker or an officer to help you find your mom or dad. If you are in danger or hurt, call 911 and we will do everything we can to help you. Do we have any questions?”
“What do you do as a Sergeant?” Logan, a young student, asked.
“I am everyone’s boss; I tell them what to do and make sure their job is getting done. I am currently training someone to become a police officer, they are called a Rookie,” Tim explained.
Your students asked as many questions as they could until the lunch bell rang, and the class let out a collective grown in disappointment. 
“Can we have lunch with Sergeant Bradford?” Wade asked, and the other students jumped in to agree.
“I don’t think Sergeant Bradford can stay any longer, he does have to leave at some point,” you said softly.
“I can stay for lunch,” Tim said with a smile. The class cheered and you sent them to get their lunches and to have a private moment with Tim.
“You didn’t have to stay,” you said to Tim as you looked up at him.
“I’m more than happy to. Your students are wonderful,” Tim said with a smile, and kissed the top of your head.
“Did Miss Winchester fix your heart?” Johnny asked Tim, startling both of you. 
Tim smiled and looked at you. “Yeah, she did,” he answered, which caused you to blush.
Johnny’s eyes got all big and he quickly ran out to the other students.
“Guys!!!! Sergeant Bradford is Miss. Winchester’s husband!!”
You then hear a loud scream of joy and all the students running in to ask the both of you a million questions about this new revelation. It was going to be a very long afternoon. 
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gejo333 · 1 year
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Jealousy
Miguel x fem! Spider! Reader
Pt. 2
Summary: You spend all your time training the new recruit which makes Miguel jealous. 🤭
Extremely light fluff.
It’s been a while since I did one-shots. But reading so many amazing Miguel fanfics sparked my passion again. I stayed up late finishing it, so I apologize in advance if I made any grammatical mistakes.
Miguel x reader one shots requests are open.
word count: 1.4k
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Miguel began to grow annoyed by how quiet his office at the Spider HQ had become in recent days. Before you came into his life, he liked the silence. But for the past year he has heard your sweet voice echo through these walls. Your laugh, your rants…he enjoyed listening to you.
While he worked, you would usually be near him trying to help in any way you could. You would watch one or two of the screens to help find anomalies to help ease his stress. During your early days here you were lost, which at the time greatly annoyed Miguel. But your persistence on helping him, finally had him cave as he then taught you a few things you could monitor. After that, you became part of his daily life. You always tried to ask him questions about himself, which bothered him at first, but now he cherished the conversations he had with you.
Except, in the past five days you have barely been around. Most likely because you were mentoring the newest recruit, Gwen. You were so excited when Miguel brought Gwen to HQ. Finally someone you can mentor. However, your attention towards the young female spider made another spider jealous.
“I don’t get it. How do you shoot your web like that without looking in that direction?” Gwen huffed in annoyance as for the tenth time she couldn’t do what the older female spider could. You chuckled at her frustration.
“It takes a lot of practice Gwen. It took me months to perfect that skill. I only showed this skill to you this afternoon.” You shot your web out, grabbing a water bottle without even glancing in the direction. You then tossed it to Gwen.
“Let’s take a small break and then we’ll continue your training.”
“Awesome!” Gwen tried again to shoot her web out like you did but she frowned when she heard Pavitr yell in surprise. Her web landed on the side of his face, scaring the poor spider half to death.
“Sorry Pavitr.” Gwen cringed which made you laugh at the scene.
“All good Gwen.” Pavitr chuckled as he removed the web.
“I see your learning from the best Gwen.” Hobie walked over, curious about what the trio was doing.
“Yep! Hopefully I can be as awesome of a spider-woman as her one day.” Gwen smiled. You pulled her into a hug from how adorable she was.
“Aww Gwen! You’re so sweet! But you already are an amazing spider woman.”
“Get use to the hugs Gwen. She’s a hugger.” Hobie chuckled as he saw Gwen slightly surprised by your gesture.
“Hey Y/N?” asked Gwen.
“What’s up?”
“Who taught you all your cool tricks?”
“I’m actually curious as well.” said Pavitr.
“I never told you guys?”
“Nope. But I thought you were just naturally gifted.” said Hobie.
“You’re sweet Hobie, but nope. I was once an amaterr too. I was taught by-” You paused when you saw Lyla appear right next to you. “Speak of the devil.” You mumbled out loud. Your comment earned you a few confused glances from the young group of spiders.
“What does he want now?”
Ever since you started training Gwen this week, Lyla has appeared multiple times a day telling you the same thing. Miguel wanted you back at the office.
When he sent Lyla to do this at the beginning of the week you complied. But you quickly realised he only wanted you back in the office for no particular task. Today it was the fourth time Lyla has graced her presence during Gwen’s training today.
“Same thing. I’m assuming it's the same response?” Lyla sighed.
“Yep.” With that she was gone. You sighed, hoping it was the last time she appeared today.
“Wait, hold up. Miguel O’Hara. Mr. Grump. Trained you?” Pavitr's eyes widened, jaw open.
“He did. And he isn’t a grump all the time. You just have to get to know him a bit better.”
“Oh God, training with him must have been hellish.” Hobie chuckled.
You chuckled remembering the first few weeks of your spider training with Miguel. Hobie wasn’t wrong. Miguel was not the most patient and easy-going instructor. At least for the first couple of months.
“It's ok if you need to go back to the office. He seems like he needs your help.” Said Gwen.
“I don’t need to be at the office. My time is more important here, training you to kick-ass!” You ruffled her hair slightly, which she tried to swat your hand away. Gwen didn't have an older sister. But definitely felt like Y/n was her sister.
“Breaks over! Now let's see how long you can last hanging from your web.”
Gwen began her endurance training as you timed her. Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jess. She looked nervous.
“You alright Jess? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about what's going to happen to you. Miguel is looking for you. And he looks more annoyed than he normally is.” Jess chuckled.
“Thanks for the heads up Jess. I’ll handle him later when I’m done. You got this Gwen. Hold on a little-” You gasp as large hands grab you by the waist and throw you over a well-built shoulder.
“Miguel! Put me down!” You bang your fists against his back. You gasp from him pinching your cheek to make you stop.
“Y/n?!” Gwen asked, confused why her mentor was slinged over the boss’ shoulder. Jess stopped her from going after you as she chuckled. That poor spider was going to get it tonight.
“Pay up Hobie. I won the bet.” Pavitr pushed out his arm towards Hobie, asking for the money.
“Now hold on. You both lose. I said he would get her in five days. You said a week, Pavitr.” Jess grinned, to which both disappointed teenagers handed her the winnings.
“What just happened…” said Gwen.
Miguel enters his quarters where he finally removes you from his shoulder, setting you down. Your cheeks were red, from the embarrassing journey here. Being carried like that in front of all her colleagues. It was humiliating.
You notice Miguel went into his bedroom, coming out a few minutes later already out of his suit and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that perfectly shaped him. He handed you a pair of short sweats and tank top that were a part of the few clothes you kept at his place.
After you slipped on what he gave you he gently grabbed your hand as he led you to his bedroom. He got on his side of the bed before you suddenly were grabbed by the waist and laid in between his legs, your back pressing against his chest. Now that you were both settled you finally broke the silence.
“So, what was that all about? Constantly asking Lyla to come fetch me and then carrying me here like a sack of potatoes.”
Miguel knew you were annoyed with him, but this was the first time in a week since he got to see you.
He kept quiet as he left butterfly kisses along your neck. Of course, if you weren’t annoyed at him you would melt into his touch. But he wasn’t going to get away with his actions.
“Miguel.” You groaned as you sat up and turned yourself to face him. “Please answer me.”
“Te extrañé, mi amor. It's been a week since you laid in bed with me. You spent all your time training Gwen.”
Your annoyance with him faded and was replaced with guilt. He had missed you being by his side.
Your breath hitched at the way he sat there in front of you with starved eyes, wanting only one thing. You. You moved back over to him and sat in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a loving kiss on the cheek. You chuckled.
“¿Por qué te ríes?” Miguel frowned slightly, eyebrows furrowed. You placed your hand on his cheek which he took and placed gentle kisses on your wrist.
“I think it’s cute that you’re jealous.” You lightly giggle. Your comment made his loving affection briefly stop as he sent you a playful glare.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Baby, you don’t need to lie to me. You totally were.”
Your giggles soon stopped as Miguel flipped you on the bed, now on top of you. You stare wide-eyed up at him as your cheeks were dusted pink.
A grin makes its way to his plush lips. He slowly begins kissing you up from your collarbone to your cheek as he removes your shorts. Now lips right against your ear, he whispers, “You won’t think twice about ignoring me after I’m done pounding myself deep into your pussy until morning.”
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Translations: “Te extrañé, mi amor.” = “ I missed you, my love.”
“¿Por qué te ríes?” = “ Why are you laughing?”
My Spanish is not the best so I needed a bit of google translate to help.
But I hope you enjoyed this light fluff one-shot. There will be plenty more to come!
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hisui-dreamer · 1 year
Text
cook your way to your man's heart!
Characters: Deuce, Ruggie, Jade, Malleus
Synopsis: In which you decide to cook your guy's favourite food to condition them into liking you. Don't underestimate a person in love!
Tags: fluff, crack, reader is good at cooking, food is used as bribery, bot proofread
Word count: 766
Notes: inspired by this post
Disclaimer: this post is entirely light-hearted and as a PSA, please do not manipulate people.
Masterlist
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this man adores you to bits
house-spouse material!!
every time he's so curious to see what you made for him
is it an egg sandwich? a quiche? an omelette? egg rolls?
he'll happily eat all of it, he loves your food!
refuses to share with anyone else unless it’s you
he finds you so endearing and he really appreciates the gesture
he would offer to cook with you or help you wash the dishes
before he knows it, he wants to always be close to you
walks you to school every morning, saves you a seat at lunch, etc.
when you tell him you made him food bc you liked him, he’ll be ecstatic
you put in all that effort for him?? that’s so sweet of you!
he wants to introduce you to his mom and see you two working in the kitchen together, his two most favourite people in the world
"Prefect, thank you so much for making me food!" Deuce says heartily. "Everything tastes amazing, you're so talented! I'm so happy to eat your cooking!"
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oh he falls for it so bad
house-spouse material no.2!!
while he's careful with trusting people, he can't deny seeing you makes him so happy and he just can't resist the food
every time he sees you his tail is shaking in excitement
he has half a mind to wonder where you're getting the expenses from to keep making food for him
but hey how could he ever resist donuts?
he's so flattered and wants to repay you somehow
finds more opportunities to spend time with you in his busy schedule
works extra hard to earn thaumarks and get you some gifts
also he's always there for you if you need help
by the time he realises, he's head over heels in love with you
he can't say he minds, you're such a lovely person and you come with great food!
"Wow Prefect, are you trying to bribe me with donuts? I'm not that easy, ya know. Shishishi!" Ruggie laughs, his lips coated in chocolate. "But I gotta say, these donuts are awesome. You really know how to make a guy feel special. Thanks a ton, you're the best," he beams.
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he's cautious when you start giving him food withouta good reason
he knows what you're up to fast
what else would you expect from a master manipulator like himself?
he'll play along though, only to enjoy your cooking
he does appreciate the effort you're putting in to make him happy by preparing his favorite food
even though he knows, he still finds himself looking forward to seeing what new dish you might bring
would it be octopus carpaccio? a toasted mushroom and egg sandwich?
he loves everything you make for him
eventually he'll find himself in love with you, but only willfully
by that point he'll start teasing you and play around with your expectations to keep you on your toes
truly a match made in heaven, two scheming dorks in love
but hey, all's fair in the game of love
"Why thank you, Prefect. Your thoughtfulness is truly appreciated," Jade says as he savors another bite. "This octopus carpaccio is quite exquisite. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to impart some of your culinary secrets to me? I would love learning from such a skilled cook." He's smiling but there's a certain glint to his eyes.
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happy dragon noises
he's so in love with you omg
he was already interested to you when he met you in ramshackle
but one night you started offering him ice cream?
he's smitten
and you made it by yourself???
lilia's holding him back from marrying you instantly
he’ll find himself visiting you whenever he’s craving food or you
he's so fascinated by how ice cream is made and all the different flavours he can try
insert image of malleus furiously shaking a plastic bag with ice and cream in it
appreciates your determination and hard work in the kitchen so much
it makes him feel so valued and cared for
gives you all of his treasures to woo you and pays for all of the ingredients
and offers to help you in the kitchen, although you should keep a close eye on him if you don't want ramshackle burnt to the ground
Malleus smiles at you contently. "Might I express my sincerest gratitude, prefect? Your efforts to make my favorite food are not unnoticed, and I am deeply appreciative of your kindness," he says. "Your gifts are cherished, and I find myself drawn to your company more and more each day."
Masterlist
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if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
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pandafruit · 3 months
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Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.
So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.
What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?
She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.
Now, a lot changes from here.
Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.
Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.
Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.
Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).
Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.
When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.
Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.
When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.
There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao
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monalogs · 4 months
Note
how about jealously with randal n reader? :3 like reader is jealous that randal is hanging out with satoru more than her while dreaming so reader hangs out with sebastian, making randal jealous ?? sorry for my bad english, its not my first language :))
Jelly | Randal Ivory
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➷ Paring - Randal Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]
➷ CWs - master/pet play, fingering, unsafe sex, praise, licking/biting, possessive tendencies, jealousy
a/n - exams have been a bit occupying unfortunately :( i still have a lot of concepts and requests i want to get to, you guys have awesome ideas and i love seeing them in my inbox !! u should see my google docs rn lol
It's hard to not scoff when Randal wakes up and immediately starts talking about his dream. It's become an annoyingly common thing now ever since Randal informed you about his little dream friend, Satoru Tsukada. Even seeming disappointed when he doesn't get a dream with him in it.
Almost every night he snuggles up against you in his coffin, nibbling at your ear and whispering cheekily, “I really hope you come into my dream tonight, imagine the fun we’d all have!” He pulls you closer, elating how proximity raises the chances of this happening.
You suck in any annoyance and nod because you're still his good pet. Though, internally you fight the urge to roll your eyes and admit “I don't really care about that guy.”
A gripping feeling twists in your stomach each morning when you wake up without the shared lucidity, hearing about all the fun Randal had that night. 
Sheepishly, you push it down and let him talk. 
Though, you tune out most of it – for your sake, as an overwhelming feeling of envy washes over you whenever you do pay attention to his words. 
A thought reverberates about not being enough for him. Is the novelty of a new friend enough to push you away? It's not like you don't already share Randal’s attention. Sebastian exists, of course. 
You two got along well enough, much to Randal’s satisfaction. Though, you admit that your focus lied more on the unpredictable gakuran-clad young man.
And despite your initial standoffish attitude when Sebastian was gifted to Randal, you quickly learned he wasn't a threat at all. He just had some unfortunate circumstances and ended up here.  
Therefore, you didn't have to fight for attention and Sebastian seemed to appreciate that you were at least cordial to him. Nobody was in the way.
So maybe this is why you have so much more of a problem with this Satoru character. You don't know him, and the only way you could is completely up to chance. 
How do you compete with that? Based on Randal’s stories, they tend to have a ball of a time. You really try to convince yourself that you're better, that you're overthinking and Randal isn't losing interest in you. 
But at night, when his arms wrap around your body, it's clear his mind is somewhere else. Satoru is a part of him, always in the dream-plane, waiting for him with open arms. Somewhere where you aren't.
Jealousy ten-folds and insecurity festers within as time goes on. Your own stressed voice tells you to relax, but an even louder one continues to complain. 
On a day where Randal is occupied with Luther, leaving you and Sebastian alone in the house, you can't seem to keep it in anymore.
Words seep out of your mouth, “Am I doing something wrong?” It's quiet and Sebastian immediately looks uncomfortable. 
“Um… with what?” He shifts in his seat in the living room, avoiding eye contact with you. He's not to blame, you rarely had conversations that didn't involve Randal. Maybe you should have put more of an effort to get to know him before dumping this on him. Still, you continue. 
“I don't know, what if Randal doesn't like me anymore?” You speak softly, but the candidness is clear. Sebastian isn't used to this vulnerability, he was just brainstorming an attempt to escape (again) but now he has to comfort you… 
Thing is, he doesn't know how to do that. Maybe he would feel more sympathetic if Randal wasn't a complete freak, (he still doesn't understand your affinity for the young man) but you haven't done anything bad to him. He doesn't want to be rude to the only normal enough person here.
“He definitely likes you.” Which is the truth, anybody with eyes could see the relationship dynamic. You always doted behind Randal, doing anything he asked of you. And Randal was more than happy to have you crawl around for him if it meant you’d get a kiss.
It goes to say that you might seem more like a lover to Randal than a pet. He thinks himself lucky for not walking in on you guys yet…
Which might be why he was taken by Luther, Randal probably finds it more fun to torment and bother someone who wasn't as willing as you–
“Wait… I dont– I don't want to steal Randal from you! I actually want to get out of here–” He stammers before you cut him off with a laugh. A change in tone, good sign. “I know that, don't worry.” 
Sebastian sighs and relaxes a bit, but still fidgets with the white sleeves of his god awful outfit. It then clicks it might be about that dream guy Randal hasn't stopped boosting about recently. He almost certainly wants to roll his eyes. “Is it Satoru?” 
Immediately, you jump up and grab at Sebastian’s arms. “You see it too, right?! It's so annoying, I’m so sick of hearing about it every morning! We haven't even met the guy, but apparently they are best friends. Fucking stupid.”
Sebastian nodded along to your words. To him, it was annoying but it also occupied the eccentric weirdo. Better he’s entertained by Satoru than him. Still, he lets you complain, and it becomes evident to just how much this was eating you up inside.
You both don't realize how time has passed until Randal stampers into the room with an ominous black bag that is dripping green slime. Neither of you question it. 
“Whatcha’ talking about?” He swings the bag over his shoulders and nearly falls back with the force, catching himself.
Sebastian notices how you immediately smile at Randal despite the complaining you've been unloading onto him for the past couple hours, how ironic. “O-Oh, nothing much. How was your outing with Luther?” 
Randal shrugs and then drops the bag onto the couch, undoubtedly staining it with the goopy substance. Luther will have a problem with that later. 
“Within bounds. Now I’m just tired… how about we go to sleep!” He says it more like an order than a suggestion.
Your smile immediately drops, “It's like 6PM.” 
“Actuallyyyy, 6:38.”
---
You want to smack yourself for not being more welcoming to Sebastian, he actually isn't that bad of a guy. He’s still a bit awkward, (he seems to constantly radiate it) and he has no shame in expressing to you how he wants to escape the house. You giggle and give him a “good luck with that”
Still, he's easy to talk to with the ever growing free time you have now. Though, despite your attitude, a part of you still craves to be around Randal.
You wish you could prod into his brain and yank Satoru out of there. If he really wants Randal, he can fight you for it. You doubt he’s even strong outside of the stupid dream-plane he lives in. 
Unfortunately, you haven't been paying attention to the conversation with Sebastian, and now he's pausing for your reply. Sweat dropping, you let out a laugh, hoping it fits as a response.
He stares, “You think my goldfish getting run over is funny?” 
“No, no, I don't– wait? Run over? How’d–” 
The bewildered sentence doesn't get the chance to finish before the sensation of oddly cold, but familiar, hands wrap around your waist and drag into an adjacent room. 
“Randal– what do you want?” It comes out more harsh than you expected, and you can see the slight grimace on Randal’s face. 
His hands leave your waist, now folding across his chest, “Long time no see.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Well, you've been a bit busy.”
Randal pauses before letting out a big laugh, “Doll, I always have time for you!” A traitorous blush spreads across your face, huffing, “Doesn't look like it.”
Randal steps a bit closer, “I thought Sebastian was keeping you plenty company.” His lips tug upward, “You two have gotten close, that's cute.”
His eyes contrast his smile, there's a clear coat of irk behind them. Holy shit, is he… jealous? You perk up, suddenly gaining some confidence… and leverage. 
“Yeah, we talk.” You show him a coy smile, his eye twitches for a second. “Awesome… about what, exactly? Tell me all the deets.”
“Oh, y’know.” 
“I don't, I literally don't.”
“What does it matter?” You hum cheekily before adding, “Anyways, isn't it past your bedtime right now?"
It was far too bold, but god, did it feel good to say. Randal reacts accordingly by pinning you against the wall. He's peeved, and you should really be scared, but you can't help but buckle at the proximity.
Randal’s voice is unusually low, his eyes staring into yours, “You’ve forgotten who you're talking to, doll. I think I need to remind you, heheh.”
Your confidence is beginning to crumble, but you still manage to get a reply out through quivering lips, “Sebastian is right outside.” Randal grins, “Good.”
A gloved hand trails your torso before it finds its way under the hem of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down and past your ankles. You have to hold back a gasp when a cold finger circles the pearl of your clit.
Randal draws closer, his hot breath pressed against your neck. A warm tongue laps up and down the side before teeth bite down and suckle on your sensitive skin.
Adrenaline and ache build as the latex of his fingers push into your entrance, pumping in and out of you. “Randal–” A moan gets caught in your throat when he speeds up slightly, angling upwards with his movements. 
Randal rasped, continuing to mark your neck with bites and hickeys, “No-no, pet, you know my name.” 
You do, “Master, please, m-more!” It’s shameless, and it’s aloof to how upset you were earlier. Now, you burn for more, bucking onto the length of his fingers.
You couldn't help but surrender to the overwhelming emotions – the hold he had over you was a force you couldn't deny, and certainly not control. There isn't anything holding you back from this. Not Satoru, not Sebastian, not even yourself.
Randal’s mouth hovers over yours, words tracing quivering lips, “That's right,” He grinds his erection against the tender flesh of your front, “ah–, let me hear those pretty noises!”
His touch only accentuates the pure excitement washes over the both of you, neither being able to remove sweaty hands off one another. 
Randal pins you further, hiking your legs up around his waist. His exposed cock rubs against your slick and pleading heat, relishing in the intoxicating shudder of your body. 
Your head rests on his shoulder, mouth agape as fingers tug at his hair, “S-Stop teasing!” 
You wrap your legs around him tighter in any attempt to heighten the friction, and Randal responds by gripping the bottom of your ass harder, “So needy, aren't you? Is that why you’ve been in such a mood? Can’t– ah, can’t handle not being the center of my attention? So jelly!”
An onslaught of groans fill the room, sputtering and begging for more. Randal grins against your neck, “Hah, how about you show me how much you need me?”
Randal then puts you down and pulls away, ignoring your whines about the wait. He shuts you up by motioning you to where he now sits, legs spread with his cock erect in his lap. 
Sweaty gloves hold onto your waist as you eagerly hover over his lap, “Can I? Can I, master, please?” Randal gives you a dopey smile, leaning to kiss your cheek, “I love it when you beg!” You groan and rut against him impatiently, “Oh, oh, yeah – get to it, pet.”
He’s right, you are incredibly needy. Despite all the sass and complaints, you truly can't help but rut into him. 
For now, you’ve completely given up any resentment towards Randal, instead relishing in the awaited pleasure he's giving you. A choir of slapping skin, moans, and praise cascade on the walls with pure want and need behind them. 
Your eyes never leave his, with Randal out right refusing to blink. He lays out under you, red spreads across his face, whether it blush or blood. His skin also glistens with sweat, downright uncomfortably sticky for any normal person. 
You aren't that type of person though, you're better than Satoru or Sebastian, or any other person he can waste his attention on. 
You want him to want you, like how you do him. Truly, you’ll take everything he gives and only ask for more.
Randal’s fingers start to dig into your hips, but he's nice enough to let you keep your own pace, encouraging your incredibly desperate movements. 
“Good pet,” His fingers dig even deeper, his own hips thrusting fervently against yours, “show me how much you want this.” His eyes never leave your body, admiring the way you bounce and quiver. 
Randal finds it addicting and oh-so adorable how he can completely make you come undone around him. He thinks himself kind for letting yourself prove how much you love him, but there really wasn't anything to worry about in truth.
He knows you’re so loyal, constantly aching just for him. But he still saw those sideways glances, how your mouth would pout, and the muttering between you and Sebastian. 
Your pettiness, though annoying, was because you missed your cute master… enough that you confided in Sebastian, leaving him out in turn. 
He can admit he got a bit caught up during his time with Satoru, but he's thankful now that he's reminded that nothing compares to how you surrender yourself to him. Randal knows you are his. He’ll make sure to show you time and time again.
Randal arches and humps into you, licking his upper lip to taste the blood that rests on it. Your own grip lies on his hips in an attempt to keep balance, the pace becoming feverish and hard to keep up. 
You croak out, feeling the knot in your abdomen grow tighter and tighter, “I think–” Randal eagerly nods, the twitch of his cock evident.
Your thighs quake, loud moans echoing off the vintage wallpaper of the room, orgasm ripping through you. Randal pushes his fingers into your hips one last time and follows suit, writhing under you.
Immediately, you allow yourself to rise a bit and lay on top of the young man, feeling how his rapidly breathing lungs press against your own. 
With labored breath, you choke out, “Can you… just spend more nights with me?” It's shy compared to the actions seconds earlier, but you still hold onto Randal’s form with that same desire. 
Randal laughs, slapping your bare ass cheekily, “If you wanted my attention,” He licks your earlobe, a hand resting on your waist, “You could’a just asked, doll.” 
You huff but still lean into his touch, pausing for a second before asking another question,
“...Do you think Sebastian heard us?”
“One grillion precent.”
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storywriter007 · 25 days
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Hello! I just found your page and I really like your work!! Would you mind doing a Percy Jackson x reader where Percy and the reader are on the Argo II and he has to teach her how to fight and whenever he gets too close she tends to slip up because he is distracting (because she likes him!) And he notices. No worries if not but I would love to see your take on it!! Thank youuuuu
Here is some watermelon just for you! 🍉🍉🍉
You Didn't Know? - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader
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author's note: thank you for your request and the watermelon :) i hope you like it!!
warnings: cursing, fighting
genre: angst
word count: 1.3k
-> heroes of olympus masterlist
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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)
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"i can't do this." y/n whined, sitting on the floor.
"yes, you can." percy encouraged, wiping sweat off of his forehead.
the argo ll training room felt like her own personal hell. first off, she had to learn self-defense, which was the stupidest thing ever. she could use a dagger, a sword, a bow and arrow, and probably an axe. but, it was heavily encouraged for her to learn hand-to-hand combat. that landed her here. secondly, she was stuck in this room for hours a day. the wall lined with mirrors and the wall parallel to it lined with windows quickly became a jail. thirdly, she sucked at hand-to-hand combat. she was slower, less responsive, and weaker than she'd ever be with a weapon. especially, against percy.
and to make everything even more tortuous, she had a hopeless crush on the guy training her. but who wouldn't? a loyal, brave, thoughtful, and humorous guy who just so happened to be tall, lean, dark-haired, bright-eyed, and unnecessarily hot.
and unnecessarily committed. that's what made all of this so hopeless. percy had a girlfriend. so y/n's crushing would stay crushing, this wouldn't go anywhere.
call her evil, but maybe she had thought about an affair. she knew it was wrong. she knew it was wrong to have a crush on somebody else's boyfriend. she desperately tried to think of other things, but she couldn't. she had to accept the fact that she liked him, and that he had a girlfriend.
she stayed on the floor, unwilling to move.
"you were doing great." he praised. "you were fast, you knew what to hit, but then you just lost your concentration. it's like you just get distracted."
that was the biggest issue she had fighting with him. she always screwed up the minute she was close to him. the minute she felt his arm around her and his breath on her neck (even though he was very clearly trying to overpower her) and his grip on her body. he was the distraction.
"i know." she said, burying her face in her hands. "can we just call it a day? we've been in here for hours."
"not until you can push me off." he said, reaching his hand out.
she got up, feeling tired and sore. they'd been doing this for too long. they began fighting. it started with him quickly grabbing her from behind. she jabbed him with her elbow and he loosened his grip. then, she kicked him away with her foot, and turned around. he charged at her grabbing her arm, and forcing it behind her. she used her head to hit his neck and he went backwards. she quickly pushed him down to the floor.
his shirt flew up a little as he hit the floor and she saw his defined v-line. she could feel her face heating up. she quickly moved her eyes to his, and they were so beautiful. the perfect shade of green. they looked like the waters in italy. so enchanting,
suddenly, she felt herself get pulled down. she fell on her side, and before she knew it, her arms were pinned by her head as percy hovered over her. she wished this moment could have been under different circumstances, because dear gods, he was gorgeous.
"you did an awesome job." he said, backing off. "but, for some reason, you just get lost in the middle. you've gotten so close to beating me, but every time, something just messes with your head."
"maybe it's the fact i'm tired?" she asked, sitting up.
"it's like this when we start all the way 'til the end." he commented. "y'know, if something's on your mind, you can tell me. maybe i can help you, and you won't get distracted anymore."
"it's fine." she shrugged. "it's nothing. i'm just exhausted."
he looked at her for a moment. she was praying he believed her so she could lock herself in her room, pray to aphrodite for love, and than go to bed.
"yeah, but i've seen you fight with leo, frank, and jason."
"so what?"
"you beat all of them. frank and jason are taller and stronger than i am." he continued. "so how the hell are you winning against those guys, and only slipping up when you're around me?"
gods damn it, he was onto her.
"i just have more confidence with them." she reasoned, hoping he couldn't sense her internal panic. "it's nothing."
"wait, do i make you insecure?" he asked, concern filling his voice. "i'm sorry, i've never really been that good of a teacher, i don't really know what to say most of the time."
"you don't make me insecure." she laughed. "i told you, it's nothing-"
"then what is it?" he asked. "it's gotta be something. you don't just go win against guys like frank and jason and then lose to me."
from behind him, y/n could see annabeth pacing around outside. she was probably waiting for him. it was a bitter reminder this wasn't going anywhere.
he noticed the disappointment on her face and turned around to see his girlfriend pacing back and forth. she excitedly waved to him and he flashed a mischievous smiled back.
"fine, percy, since you really want to know what distracts me, it's you." she confessed. "i like you. i've liked you for years. and you don't care. it's fine."
he looked at her empathetically.
"y/n, i never knew-"
"shut the fuck up, you knew." she said, feeling an unrecognized feeling of hostility in her. "i know you're not stupid."
she was so angry. she was angry at him for growing closer to her. she was angry at the fact she liked him (and that made her a terrible person). she was angry that he had never noticed, or was at least claiming to. she was angry at the fact he had a girlfriend, one she could never compete with.
"i didn't know." he defended.
"you didn't know?" she chuckled. "so when i would give you freshly-baked cookies for every holiday for four years, you didn't know? when i visited you every day in the infirmary when you were sick, you didn't know? when i longingly stared at you from across the campfire, you didn't know? when i asked you if you wanted to watch the fireworks together, you didn't know?"
his eyes twisted into another emotion. the one of guilt.
"and instead of having the balls to tell me, 'y/n, we're good friends, but i don't like you that way,' you decided to lead me on for years?" she asked, appalled at the fact one of her dear friends would lead her on like this.
"i never knew you did all of that because you liked me, i thought you did all of that because we're friends." he defended. "when you put it all together-"
"it becomes really fucking obvious. i know, percy, i know."
"i'm sorry." he said quietly. "i should've said something."
"it's fine. i see how it is now." she confirmed. "we're not friends. we never have been. i've just been some girl, hopelessly following around a guy, waiting for him to give me a chance."
"that's not true." he frowned. "you know that's not true."
"all i know is that we're not friends. we never have been. and to be honest," she paused, looking for the words. "i don't think we will be."
she got up and began walking out the training room. he followed her.
"y/n." he called out to an empty spirit.
he called out for her, waiting for her to stop and turn around. waiting for her to come back and talk things out with him, the way she always did.
she kept walking. she'd followed him around for years.
he could return the favor.
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trippinsorrows · 4 months
Text
with me + part five
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authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!
so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.
also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.
i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!
warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
words: 5.7k
tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion
“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”
You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.
Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”
“Because you’re so busy?”
“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”
He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”
You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.
Can I call Joe?
A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.
What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 
It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 
Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 
“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.
“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”
His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”
He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 
Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”
“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”
There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.
Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?
“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 
“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”
This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”
“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”
And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 
“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”
Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.
True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”
“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”
He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.
“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”
He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 
You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.
You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 
“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”
Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.
And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 
“Can I call Joe when I get home?”
Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”
In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?
Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 
The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 
Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.
You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 
And just age in general. 
But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 
“Look mommy, more boxes!”
The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.
She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.
You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 
Gifts.
From Joe. 
In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 
She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 
When the hell did she grab those?
“Can I open them, please? Please?”
A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.
“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”
You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 
Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.
He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.
Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 
Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 
Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 
Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”
Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 
You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 
“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  
“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?
It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”
Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”
You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 
Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 
Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 
You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.
You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 
You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 
Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.
Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.
You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.
You: Omg
You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?
It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 
 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 
Joe: She has a whole playroom.
You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 
Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️
You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.
He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.
She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.
And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.
You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.
You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 
You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 
His reply comes almost immediately this time around.
Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.
And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 
Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 
A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.
You open it right away. 
Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 
You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 
You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 
Who cares that you will be too.
________
Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 
Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?
Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.
It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 
She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”
“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.
Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”
Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 
“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”
“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”
“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”
Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.
“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 
“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”
“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 
He hates a man he’s never even met.
“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”
“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 
He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.
Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 
“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.
Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”
“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”
The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 
“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”
At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 
“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 
Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”
She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”
He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.
“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”
Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”
Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 
Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 
And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 
________
Joe: You should know she called me last night.
You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.
You: I’m aware….
Joe: No. After that. 
Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  
You: What? when?
Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.
You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?
You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 
Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.
You: A bad dream?
Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.
Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.
Joe: Who is Amir?
You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 
You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.
You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 
You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 
It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 
That you’re not with Amir.
Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?
The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.
Sorta.
You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 
You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.
Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?
Joe: You bring him around her?
You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 
Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.
But fuck it.
You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 
There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.
To some extent.
But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.
Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 
Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 
Is he entirely wrong?
Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 
You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 
You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.
Joe: It is. Thank you.
Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?
You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.
Joe: Seriously? 
Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 
You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.
It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 
You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.
He doesn’t reply. 
________
Joe doesn’t really get mad. 
Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 
It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 
Except for when it comes to you.
You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.
He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.
Hence your crudity. 
Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 
But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.
“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”
At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”
“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 
Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 
“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 
“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 
Usually. 
So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.
“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”
That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”
“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”
“I didn’t ask you.” 
“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”
“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”
Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”
At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.
“Thanks.”
Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 
It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 
But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 
The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.
And find out where you stand as well. 
Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.
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mrsbsmooth · 1 month
Text
Smut writing 101: What I wish someone had told me when I first started.
So a conversation with @queen-of-boops and @longbobmckenzie sparked this post. Sarah already wrote a list of tips for writing a villa fic which was really helpful and people expanded on it a lot, so we thought it might be helpful to share a few tips for writing smut from some of the writers that do it a lot.
This is a long-ass post, because I've learned a lot over the years. So right at the end, there's a mini how-to guide for how to turn your smut from IKEA instruction manual into an explosion of sexual tension.
In addition, I would love for others to add on to this. This fandom is horrifically talented especially in writing brain-melting smut, and this is just what I could come up with in a few hours. But I'd love to hear from other people and have them add on extra bits!
A few resources before we begin:
The Smut Writer's Dictionary
The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic [HIGHLY recommend sections ii (Reaction words), iv (sexy alternatives to 'said'), xii (generally acceptable slang terms) and xvi (Some do's and don'ts of smut writing).]
OneLook Thesaurus is much better than other thesauruses at suggesting words for smut (I've found).
Now, on to the advice!
Tip #1 - It's normal to find it difficult and cringe to write. Own it.
Smut can be intimidating. It can feel really cringe and awkward and you might feel like people are judging you for it, and you know what? Sometimes they are. Smut isn't for everyone, and not everyone wants to read it, and that's why ratings and tags exist on Archive of Our Own. But you shouldn't be ashamed of writing it. Smut is fun and awesome and people who do like reading smut often love reading it, and will absolutely eat up whatever you give them. So go nuts. Write what you want to see, write what you want to read. That's advice for everything, but it's especially relevant for writing smut. Because if you feel awkward, it can sometimes show through. Lean into it. Let it happen. If you make yourself blush, you’re doing a fucking awesome job.
Tip #2 - Writer’s block.
I've written hundreds of thousands of words of pure, unadulterated filth, and I still struggle to push into it sometimes. The leadup comes so naturally, the tension builds, they're kissing, they're starting to touch each other, and then-- writer's block. I stare at the page and tap my fingers and go... huh. Same with writing really effectual kisses, or writing orgasms. There's all this pressure to make it the best written orgasm that's ever existed in the English language and it really doesn't need to be. Just put something down. 
If your doc looks like this:She clawed at the wall, knowing she was coming apart at the seams, the pressure building inside her. He didn’t let up. [orgasm bla bla bla]. She took a deep breath. She drew herself off him. She turned around. And she fell to her knees. [blowjob and he's loving it].
Then your doc looks just like mine.
Tip #3 - Pick the right words for everyone’s bits. 
See the resource above for suggestions! People have very different preferences when it comes to what to call a cock or whether or not to use the word ‘cunt’. Adjectives, adverbs– there are so many different opinions. Like personally, I have to physically restrain myself from throwing a fic across the room if it uses the word hole but that is my personal preference, and I am massively in the minority there. But my advice is threefold:
Read widely to find out what you like,
Write what you like,
Know your characters. 
Language will vary by fandom, by character, and by setting, and it’s an opportunity to really solidify their characterisation by carrying this into smut. An arrogant fuckwit who’s bedding his mortal enemy in a fit of hate-sex might use ‘into her slick cunt’, whereas a sweet, wholesome guy who’s desperately in love might say ‘pushed inside her’. But the more you read, and the more you write, the more you’ll find certain words or phrases you’re more comfortable with. 
The more smut you read, the better understanding you’ll have of what you like. The better understanding you have of what you like, the easier it will be to write. 
Tip #4 - POV can help you
Picking the right POV can make your life easier. For example, I once wrote a M/M/M threesome. That fic ended up being my very first ever 'first person POV' fic. Why? Because it turned one set of ‘his hand’ into ‘my hand’. Made it easier to understand the logistics of ‘his hand on his waist’, etc. Maybe it's lazy, maybe it's genius. I thought it was a bit of both. 
Consider whose POV is going to be the most impactful. If you’re not sure, try writing a paragraph from each. You’ll figure it out quite quickly. 
Tip #5 - Dialogue
You don’t have to include dialogue in your smut, but it can really help with pacing things and showing when the ‘end’ is approaching. Anyone who’s ever read any of my smut ever knows I’m a huge fan of cutting people off mid sentence in smut dialogue. 
They start out with “Oh yeah? You think you can make me X?” And the other person goes “Sweetheart, I’m going to make you X so hard you don’t Y for a Z.” 
But then by the end it’s “You feel–” and everyone’s gasping “Oh, fuck–” and sobbing out “I’m so– I’m gonna–” 
To me, this helps to build pacing and tension and show without telling that the end is approaching. But honestly, that’s just me– I enjoy reading people being very vocal in smut, so that’s how I write them. If that’s not your thing, then don’t do it. Simple as that. 
Tip #6 - Don’t skimp on the finale
Orgasms are hard to write. We all know that. There’s all this pressure to write the best most explosive monumental earth-shattering orgasm that’s ever existed in fiction, and honestly, it probably won’t be. But you still need to give it the time it deserves. 
As an avid consumer of smut, there is nothing more frustrating than five pages of buildup, incredible smut, tension rising, rising, rising– and then the orgasm happens in two lines and they’re immediately having a conversation afterwards. This is, no pun intended, the climax of your scene. Give it a paragraph. Hell, give it two paragraphs. Give it four. The climax is something you can write in excruciating detail and it will almost always be better for it. You can decide whether they come at the same time, or whether one comes immediately after the other (personal fav so we get to read two orgasms. Yay! Two cakes!) You can hyper-focus on every single sense. Here are some examples for writing orgasms:
Feel/Touch
The feeling travelling through the character’s body/ zones: up their spine, through their thighs, ‘deep inside them’
Their partner continuing to thrust/move
Their partner’s grip on their body, or maybe a kiss
Fingernails digging into shoulder or raking down a back
Legs squeezing
Smell
Personally I think this works better for the leadup and afterwards, but if you want this in here you absolutely can. Pheremones, cologne, aftershave, perfume, sweat, hair gel– whatever makes them smell like them. 
Sight
Their partner’s face and get detailed! Lips parting, brow scrunched, eyes closed, face in beautiful agony, wax poetic as fuck about their partner's face! What is hotter than making someone come and watching their face while you do it!??!!?
Darkness (blindfolded 👀)
‘White light behind their eyes’ is a cliche for a reason (fucking love this one)
Seeing stars/heaven see above lol
Taste
Harder to put into an orgasm but salty skin, lipgloss/lipstick? Whatever you want really
Sound
Big one. Their partner’s breath or moan as they watch/feel character’s peak
Their own breath/moans (or lack thereof can be just as effective, a ‘sudden silence’ as their breath catches in their throat can work WONDERS)
Bodies slapping together (doesn’t always work but when it does it does)
External sounds, especially rhythmic ones. A train clacking or a club baseline could simulate a heartbeat/shockwaves that you could lean into.
Pick multiple senses and focus on them. This will fill up a good bit of your climax writing. 
But you should also let them come down from it! DON’T SKIMP AFTERCARE (or after-hate??)
Tip #7 - Aftercare!
I missed this so often when I was new to writing smut and I didn’t realise how effective it could be! I always just faded to black immediately afterwards because I didn’t want to deal with the ‘cleanup’. And you don’t have to go into detail, but at the very least, give them a few minutes– a paragraph or so after the sex. The immediate aftermath of the act itself when you can really focus on the relationship. 
If they’re mortal enemies who’ve just fucked and are now horrified? Have them panting into each others’ skin. Their breaths suddenly become sharper and more reserved. They pull back from each other. Someone glares or someone says something snarky or awful. Someone showing aftercare or affection here (or being particularly cruel) reveals a lot about their character.
If they’re deeply in love and it’s comfortable for them to do so, maybe let them just lay there for a second, enjoying the feeling of each others’ bodies and letting breaths fall warmly and smiles tug at cheeks. Soft kisses, laying in silence, affection, etc. 
If they’re best mates who just fucked by accident, have the silence be awkward and have no one breathe at all. It’s tense and awkward and one has to ask the other to go get a towel or something and the other is like ‘oh, yeah, um, right’. 
Don’t skip this! It can be so impactful!
Overall Tip - Beware the ‘IKEA Instruction manual’!
The #1 most common mistake, in my opinion, in writing smut is ‘Insert Tab A into Slot B’. It’s things like, 
He moved his leg A, she touched B. He lifted her arm to C, holding her D’s, before slipping down to cup E. She ran her hands up F, touching his G, feeling his Hs caressing her I as she lifted her J and draped it over his K.
When I read this, I’m not focusing on the smut. I’m doing mental gymnastics trying to keep track of what position they’re in in my head because I’m assuming that it’s important. If you feel yourself doing this, stop. Refocus. Remember whose POV you’re in. This isn’t to say you should never tell the reader what’s happening. Just make sure to break it up a little!
Balance actions with senses. 
Let’s say you start with a basic action. (The example is buildup to smut, not actual smut, but the idea is the same)
“His hand moved from her knee to her thigh.”
-> Instead of writing what they’re doing, write what they can sense.
“His hand moved from her knee to her thigh” becomes “She felt his warm hand slide from her knee to her thigh.”
-> Now, make the phrase active. Instead of ‘she felt’, make it a description.
‘She felt his warm hand slide from her knee to her thigh’ becomes ‘Warmth erupted on her skin as his hand slid from her knee to her thigh’.
-> Give it details, and draw focus to them.
His fingertips skimmed her inner thigh as his hand slipped from her knee and moved higher. The silk of her skirt gave way to the warmth of a coarse, rough palm. Her skin seared beneath it. But every other inch of her shivered with anticipation.
In three steps, you’ve gone from IKEA tab A to slot B to a pretty good section for building tension. 
Examples of writing senses:
What can they feel? - ‘She’d never been so pent up, so wired, so on edge, and every flit of his practiced fingers on her waist had goosebumps shooting up her spine’.
What can they taste? - ‘She could taste the sweat on his skin, the coconut suncream on his shoulders, the salt of the ocean on the hints of stubble at his jawline.’
What can they smell? - ‘Her forehead pressed to his, that smokey, heady cologne engulfing her; curling her closer in time with his arms around her.’
What can they hear? - ‘He watched her every move, breathing quickly, so she looked him directly in the eyes as she undid his belt. Belt. Button. Zip purring as she tugged it down towards her.’
What can they see? - “Then, they opened, and he was treated to the sight of her looking up at him from her knees. Her eyes said fuck me. Her mouth said fuck me. Everything about her. Fuck me. Fuck me.”
I hope this was helpful in some way. I really would love to hear any other tips and tricks that writers would like to add to this. Obviously Mo and Sarah are already tagged, but this is a full and open free-for-all.
Add your thoughts! Add what you've learned! Add what you wish you knew!
I'd love to hear it <3
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