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phoenixyfriend · 9 months ago

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How to Call Your Reps About Gaza

I make a lot of posts telling you to call your reps! Anyway, here's the overall shape of how to argue to them.

Disclaimer: I am not in politics. I do not have experience as a staffer. I am just someone who cares a lot about where things are going, and wants to help. Also, this is specific to the US, because that's where I'm based. Hopefully, people with expertise can add more suggestions on.

Find your elected officials.

My Ko-fi: this took me two days to write up, so uh. If you've got a few dollars, send them my way so I can keep doing this sort of thing, and maybe move out of my parents' house sooner.

General tips:

Be polite, or at least civil. Do not swear or shout at whoever answers the phone. This will quite possibly get your number blocked. Fifty civil calls over the course of several months will do more than one where you shout. You can be frosty, you can say you are disappointed, you can say you find the actions of your reps to be reprehensible or morally bankrupt, sure. But keep calm and aim criticism at the rep, not the staffer.

Keep it short. The staffers who answer call centers are busy. They usually start trying to hurry me off after about two minutes. I've yet to manage a call longer than four or five minutes. Pick one or two topics for the day, and focus on those. Cycle through them every time you call. Stick to just one from day to day if it's a large, ongoing issue like Gaza.

Plan for voicemail. I get voicemail more often than not. My House rep usually has a staffer free, but the Senators are almost always voicemail. This will give you a minute and a half max. Be ready to get your point squeezed into that.

Only call your representatives. The important, powerful word here is "constituent." You will be ignored or even counted against if you are from a different district or state. The first thing you start with is your name and address. A staffer will ask for the information they need. On voicemail, leave your full name, your city and state, and zip code before you go into your message. Do not lie, either. They look these things up in the system when you call. I'm not sure how--I think maybe they have access to a database of registered voters--but every time I call, they ask for my last name and address and at some point say, 'oh, yep, I've got you right here,' which indicates a database of some sort.

Research at least a little bit about their opinions. If they already agree with you, then it's much easier to leave a quick "I support you and want you to know that" to combat anyone who's arguing from the other side. If they don't, then you're best off finding out what specific issue they have so you can know the best kind of comment to leave.

Look up specific bills or arguments. I get daily emails from GovTrack about bills that are on this week's docket or have been voted on in the past day. IDK about anyone else, but being able to say that I disagree specifically with HR 815 or something makes me feel powerful, and possibly like I will be taken more seriously. Sometimes you can start with articles like this one, which include links to specific bills on the official congress website.

Email after if you can. Reportedly less effective, and takes longer, but you are more likely to get a written (canned) response, and it reinforces whatever you called about.

Basic structure of a call, at least as I've been doing it:

"Hi, my name is ____ ____, and I am a constituent from [city, state], [zip]. I am calling to express my opinion on [topic]. I am concerned about [short argument with a clear impact on the topic]. I ask that you support [measure or fellow congress member]/vote [yay/nay on specific legislature]. Thank you for your time, and I hope you keep my opinion in mind."

For this post, the topic can be stated as the war in Gaza, military funding for Israel, or unrest in the Middle East, depending on which you think your elected official will respond to best. That said, the structure should work for whatever your call is about.

Arguments to use against your elected official... or your on-the-fence cousin:

I'll be honest, some of these are not going to do much against your representative. They know the arguments, and have been going over them with each other for months. You just need to have one locked and loaded that they consider relevant instead of a nonstarter, in order to back up your opinion as 'founded' instead of 'nonsense, can be swayed with a good marketing campaign.'

I'll include explanations if I don't think something is self-evident (or needs more evidence to tell your cousin), but in most of them I'll provide some suggested verbiage that you can tweak as needed, and for a few of them, that's really enough.

THESE ARE FOR THE TOPIC OF CONCERN, ONLY. You still need to end each one with "I ask that the [official] votes to [action]" at the end. Give them something actionable (example from Feb. 13th). My go-tos right now:

Both chambers: Reinstate funding for UNRWA

Both chambers: Place mandatory restrictions on any aid to Israel, with contractual threats to cut funding if Netanyahu and his government continue to disregard civilian life

Senate: Put support behind Bernie Sanders and his motion to restrict funding to Israel until a humanitarian review of the IDF’s actions in Gaza has been completed (S.R. 504) (Tabled by the Senate on 1/16, but it is being brought back in as conditions continue to escalate)

House: Put support behind Rep. Rashida Tlaib’s petition for the US government to recognize the IDF’s actions in Gaza as ethnic cleansing and forced displacement, and put a stop to it.

House: Put support behind H.R. 786, introduced by Rep. Cori Bush, calling for an immediate deescalation and cease-fire in Israel and occupied Palestine.

What Not to Say

"There is no threat to Israel." I've talked about this elsewhere, but the short version is that this will be basically laughed out as you not knowing what you're talking about.

Anything generically antisemitic. (I mean, it might work on some of the white supremacists, but do you really want to encourage that thinking? No, so don't do it.)

Facts that you "heard somewhere" but cannot find a reliable source for. If it's being reported by the New York Times, NPR, or the BBC, it's probably trustworthy by government standards. If it's not a super common statistic, cite the journal you got it from by name. Remember, you aren't arguing to tumblr mutuals. You are arguing to your elected official or your 'I don't really pay attention' cousin. When it comes to this, big name news sources are better.

Unrealistic demands for complete isolationism, permanently abandoning Israel to its own devices, supporting Hamas, etc. Again, you will not be taken seriously. Pick an argument they might actually listen to, and use it to press them towards a possible solution. You want them to believe that if they adjust their position, they will be doing the will of most of their constituents, and thus more likely to get reelected.

The Ethics Argument

Third-party reporting has stated that that nearly 29,000 Gazans are dead since Oct. 7th, as of 2/18/24. The vast majority of those are civilians, and over half are children. Palestinians in Gaza are facing an acute hunger crisis threatening to become a full-blown famine.

The International Court of Justice has found that there is credible reason to believe that the state of Israel is committing a genocide against the Palestinians of Gaza.

This does not mean that every single Israeli is complicit. It does mean that the government, particularly Netanyahu and his associates, has been reprimanded by a large, diverse coalition of countries, and has consistently refused to listen to that court since.

This argument will possibly work on your cousin. Less likely to work on your elected official. They already know the numbers. I just wanted to get it out of the way first.

The Re-Election Argument: Michigan vs New York

Meanwhile, this is possibly the most effective. Again, this is not an argument of ethics. This is an argument of "how can I make my elected official do what I want." We do not use only the purest moral argument. We use what works.

What to say to your elected official: Michigan, as a swing state, was won by democrats on the power of the Arab-American vote in the 2020 election. We (either party) are at risk of losing Michigan due to the current Congressional approach to the Gaza conflict, as that demographic is now polling as likely to abstain from voting entirely. The risk of losing several congressional districts due to the Jewish vote is a real one, but the risk of losing the the executive branch is greater, especially after what we saw with Suozzi. Supporting Palestine might lose us parts of New York, but supporting Israel will lose us Michigan.

Explanation: Something that has been taking up a lot of time and space in the election coverage is the situation in Michigan, and more recently, there has been attention paid to the special election of New York's third district, AKA the "who gets to replace disgraced George Santos" competition.

Michigan is traditionally a swing state. While 2.1% doesn't sound like a lot, that is some 211k-278k people (depending on your source), and while not all of them can vote... Michigan was won by about 154k. Arab-Americans are not the only relevant demographic, but they sure are an important one, and they are vocally opposed to the situation. Approval has dropped from 59% to 17%. From that same article:

As Axios notes, Biden won Michigan in 2020 by 154,000 votes, but there are at least 278,000 Arab Americans in Michigan. Biden took Arizona, a state with an Arab American population of 60,000, by only 10,500 votes. In Georgia, Biden prevailed with a margin of 11,800 voters, in a state that has an Arab American population of 57,000.

Democrats cannot afford to lose these states. Pressure your congresspeople about that, especially if you live in one of those states. I assume most Arab-Americans in said states are already calling every day; the rest of you can join in.

Meanwhile, most Jews (considered the most pro-Israel demographic by strategists) in America are concentrated in a very small number of electoral districts. Of the twenty most-Jewish, ten are in New York, which is why I put it up in the section header.

One of those districts was won by a Republican in 2022: George Santos, New York's third congressional district. Following his scandals and ousting, the seat was up for a special election, and the two candidates were Tom Suozzi, a democrat who held the seat previously (he decided to run for governor, and lost), and Mazi Pilip, a Nassau county legislator who was of Ethiopian Jewish background and had been in the IDF. She ran on a campaign that leaned strongly pro-Israel and anti-immigration, and when Suozzi won, she interrupted his victory speech to accuse him of supporting a genocide against Israel due to his rather centrist, rather milquetoast stance on the conflict during his election campaign.

Now, Suozzi's win probably had more to do with Pilip being anti-choice than her pro-Israel arguments, but he still won.

Democrats can better risk possibly losing a few seats in NY than definitely losing three swing states.

"But I don't want Dems to win their districts after what they've been--" Nope. Listen to me. Surveys indicate that Republicans are on average more pro-Israel, because Trump and Netanyahu are buddy-buddy, and we do not have a viable third option.

Also, again, this is about convincing Dems to be better. "If you do not vote to put restrictions on funding to Israel, I will not vote for you in November" is a lot more powerful than "I will not vote for you either way, because of what you've been doing, but you should do what I say anyway."

The Re-Election Argument: Risk of Escalation

So, that thing I said about Trump and Netanyahu?

Yeah, so, while Biden is giving Israel military aid while cautioning them to slow down and be careful, Trump is... complicated, but suffice to say he's much closer to Netanyahu on a personal level than Biden is. Biden's relation with Netanyahu is reportedly pretty frosty, while Trump's is based on relations through the Kushners.

Just from wikipedia:

Netanyahu made his closeness to Donald Trump, a personal friend since the 1980s, central to his political appeal in Israel from 2016.[21] During Trump's presidency, the United States recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, recognized Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, and brokered the Abraham Accords, a series of normalization agreements between Israel and various Arab states.

Trump's been more all-over-the-place recently, badmouthing Netanyahu for being what Trump perceives as a loser, which complicates understanding what his approach is. It's kind of incoherent right now.

Given Trump's general history of being pro-Israel, though, and the attempts by House Republicans to push through a bill of unconditional funding for Israel. It failed, but notable is that the more recent bill passed in part because it was paired with aid for Ukraine and Taiwan (something Dems are much more invested in having happen).

What to say to your elected official: If Trump is reelected due to his current appearance of being more critical of Netanyahu, there is evidence from his presidency to indicate that he will support Israel much less critically if elected. While he claims to want to settle the Middle East, it seems incredibly likely that he will worsen the situation for Palestinians, and ramp up retaliatory strikes to groups like the Houthis in a manner that will impact non-military parties, igniting tensions that are already tenuous.

The Disrespect/Wild Card Argument

This particular argument is best used against the Very Patriotic Politicians who are more concerned with the US's image and Being The Alpha Nation than with other things. Basically, this might work on Republicans.

This isn't really something I believe in, as a matter of foreign policy, buuuut it might work on your rep, so. Consider it!

What to say to your elected official: With Israel's recent actions in ignoring Biden, blocking US-sent aid like those flour trucks that got stopped at the Rafah border because they'd be distributed by UNWA, and generally Disrespecting The USA and Being Unpredictable is not only making the US look bad for being unable to wrangle a smaller country, but also making it so we are less able to wrangle other countries in the future, because Israel cannot be predicted and might set someone off.

The Europe and Reputation Argument

What to say to your elected official: The United States is losing credibility as a world power known for its military and ability to manage international disputes on behalf of the UN, because it is seemingly unable to influence Israel, and losing credibility as an upstanding moral state that is not doing foreign coups and banana republics anymore, as it appears to be tacitly supporting Israel's ICJ-labelled genocide, which is a really bad look with the other Western Powers.

I'm not entirely sure who this might work on, but there's gotta be at least a few politicians who are really concerned about America's image, more than about actually doing the right thing. Figure out if your politician is one of them.

If necessary, you can bring up how Trump is threatening to pull US support for NATO if Russia attacks someone.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Iran-backed Militias

What to say to your elected official: I'm concerned that the continued support of Israel, and thus the funding of their actions in Gaza, will increase the instability of Iran-backed militias, as we have already seen with the Houthis and Hezbollah. Entire Muslim-majority nations are showing increased displeasure not only with Israel, but with the US by extension. We cannot afford another war in the Middle East when we haven't yet pulled all our troops from the last one, not with the recent and recurring economic recessions. Any situation would also very likely be complicated or inflamed by the growing tensions among Eritrea, Djibouti, and Ethiopia regarding Red Sea access as well.

Use this on the ones that claim to be pro-military or pro-veteran. See what they said about HR 815 before the foreign military funding amendment was added.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Egypt

What to say to your elected official: Egypt's government has been unstable since the Arab Spring, and even now the military government is incredibly unpopular. With that existing instability, the addition of economic strain from the reduced usage of the Suez canal, the international disputes occurring because they're the main throughway for aid into Gaza, and the threat of a sudden influx of nearly one and a half million Palestinian refugees should Israel continue to push south... Egypt is looking at a possible near-collapse as we've seen in nearby nations suffering similar instabilities.

Explanation: It took several years for Egypt to really start recovering from the revolts in 2013, and it has applied for four IMF loans in recent years. The current government is unpopular to such a degree that they are looking to build an entire new capital from scratch in the middle of the desert so that they're less open to the risk of civilian uprisings; one of the primary causes for civilian dissatisfaction is economic issues.

Due to Houthi attacks at the Bab al-Mandab Strait, traffic through the Suez canal is down massively, and since the canal "represents almost 5% of the GNP and 10% of GDP and is one of Egypt’s most important sources of hard currency." (src) Various sources are reporting that trade through the canal is down 40-50%, which is putting more strain on the already unstable economic and political situation.

Finally, Egypt's population is about 110 million, but the governorate that shares a border with Israel and Gaza, North Sinai, has a population of barely 500,000. A push of one and a half million starving, injured people will, very suddenly, nearly quadruple the population of the governorate, and require extreme aid response from Egypt's government to keep alive and prevent a larger crisis in North Sinai and neighboring governorates.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Normalized Relations

What to say to your elected official: I am concerned that Israel's continued attack on Gaza is jeopardizing any chance of normalized relations with the Arab states in the future. American has put a lot of work into trying to get these various countries to normalize with Israel, and our funding of the current attacks on Gaza are sabotaging all that effort.

This one can be combined with the Iran-Backed Militias argument: Israel, in pursuit of revenge against Hamas, is setting itself up to be in more danger long-term, rather than less.

The International Trade Argument

What to say to your elected official: I am concerned about how the war in Gaza is impacting international trade and shipping costs. With the Suez Canal down to half its usual capacity and the Panama Canal raising costs and dropping capacity in response to the water restrictions, along with rising fuel costs in Europe and Asia, global trade is incredibly strained. We are being relegated to the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Horn, and the Malacca strait for much of intercontinental trade, and the macroeconomic projections are looking very bad for America.

The Domestic Economics Argument

What to say to your elected official: Many of the plans for Israeli military funding cause damage to other parts of the budget. For instance, a recent plan put forward by the Republicans of the House suggested IRS cuts in order to move that money, a plan which would impact the US budget negatively in the long term; we need those 14 billion being spent domestically, not supporting an overreaction/possible genocide in Gaza.

Explanation: In general, pick something receiving budget cuts that your congressperson will care about. I care about IRS funding, and saw it mentioned as a target in an article, so that's what I've got in my suggested verbiage up there.

The fewer people that are working for the IRS, the more they focus on auditing poor people (simple, easy taxes) and the less they can effectively audit rich people (complicated, time-consuming taxes), which means rich people are more likely to get away with evading millions or even billions in taxation. So yeah, you want more funding in the IRS if you are poor. They are already auditing you. You want them to audit the big guys.

The Russia and China Argument

What to say to your elected official: I am worried that the current focus on funding Israel without restriction is causing us to lose sight of the international threat posed by Russia and China. Russia is actively invading Ukraine, which continues to put massive strain on the European economy with regards to oil prices, especially with the Suez situation, and China has been testing missiles near Taiwan, and thus testing US responsiveness to those threats, for months now. We cannot afford to support an internationally unpopular war if we want to remain ready for Russia and China.

This is less likely to work on Republicans, since Trump is friendly with Russia, but hey, give it a shot if they're one of the ones who aren't fully in his camp.

EDIT 2/22/24: I'm a bit unsure of this tactic, but I'm putting it out there with hopes that someone with more political experience can offer feedback:

"Congress, and the US government in general, has promised to sanction Russia for the alleged assassination of one man within a week of the suspicious death, after five months of refusing to enact even slight consequences on Israel for the deaths of nearly thirty thousand, half of which are children. This is ethically questionable at best, but for the interests of elected officials, it is a very bad look. The mismatch shows a massive bias by the American government in regards to Israel's ongoing mass murder, with over two million facing famine as a result of Israel's aid blocking, and America's reputation on the world stage, as well as individual politicians' reputations domestically with constituents, is plummeting."

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Finally, my ko-fi again. I spent a long time on this and I'd like to move out of my parents' house sooner rather than later. If you appreciate my time and effort, please feel free to donate a couple bucks.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

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Houses of the Holy | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: MNDI 18+ ONLY, canon violence, canon gore, SMUT, breast play, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl pls and thanks), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, clit spanking, descriptions of religious trauma (there’s a lot of talk of the two things you should never talk about in here: religion and politics)

Word Count: 5892

A/N: need i say it again, goodbye, minors!!! Be gone!!! please!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Every twenty or so minutes, you reloaded the FBI’s database you’d managed to tap into. You were getting incredibly anxious about Dean’s presence on their radar following the bank “robbery” the week prior.

Sam went out to pose as a psychotherapy nurse to interrogate a woman whose personality seemed to have changed overnight after killing a man, claiming an angel led her to do so. You were placed on “Dean duty” after Sam insisted his brother stay here to avoid being seen. You were right on board with that idea, but you needed to stay behind to make sure Dean didn’t go stir crazy and leave stupidly.

A thousand thoughts swirled through your head as you wrote in your journal.

“When I was on my own, I was a fucking expert at staying away from police,” you wrote. “Now, suddenly, I’m on cases with these two where every time I turn around, a cop is on my ass. I’m not super crazy about that idea. However, I don’t wanna leave them. They’re my best friends, and I know Dean is something more to me. I don’t wanna give that all up just because I’m starting to sweat a bit, y’know?

“I am not one to shy away from trouble, and I’m loyal. Those are two qualities I’m super proud of,” you continued writing, “I just am worried. And I feel like that’s completely normal. But it’s a different kind of worry. I’ve never had to be concerned about two other people when I’m hunting. This is the first time I’ve had partners who are just as good as I am. And I’ve never cared about my partners this much. And in a way, that sucks.

“And what the hell was I thinking promising Sam that I’d kill him if necessary? Am I out of my fucking mind?? I don’t know what I’d do if Dean hated me. But I’d still rather him hate me than hate himself. I can go it alone again. I really could. I just don’t think I want to.”

You dropped your pen and scrubbed a hand over your face before pulling it through your hair.

“Sweetheart. C’mere,” Dean groaned from the other end of the room. He was laying on a vibrating motel bed with his headphones in his ears. He’d been obsessively fueling the “Magic Fingers” machine with quarters.

You headed over to him just as the bed stopped vibrating.

“Damn, that was my last quarter,” he huffed, taking his headphones out of his ears. He seemed not to notice you until that moment. “Oh, hey.”

You sat on the bed next to him, and he was still laid out in the center of the bed on his back.”Whatcha need?”

“You,” he said, smirking.

You laughed as he pulled on the ends of your— his— shirt, trying to get you to lay on top of him. You happily complied, leaning forward to kiss him. Between kisses, you giggled, “Dee, we already fucked this morning. You’re seriously ready again?”

He hummed against your lips. “Always.”

You rolled your head away from him. “I have sex with you once, and suddenly, you’re insatiable.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirked. “You’re gorgeous.”

You faux-pouted. “That’s it?”

He rolled on top of you and kissed up your neck. “And smart.” He kissed you again, moving to your left cheek. “And badass.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “And sexy.” He kissed your lips. “I hate how much I need you.”

You mocked offense. “Why do you hate it?”

“ ‘Cause I don’t like to need anyone,” he replied.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I need you, too.” You leaned up to him and pecked his lips before leaning back down on the pillows. “And not just sexually,” you clarified.

He chuckled. “Same here,” he told you earnestly.

You grinned widely, pulling him back down to your lips by the nape of his neck. He eagerly bit your bottom lip before trailing his lips down your neck. He sucked a dark spot on your collarbone, making you tug his hair and moan. He groaned against your skin before hiking the shirt up your body, swirling his tongue around your nipples. Still sensitive from your activities earlier in the morning, your back immediately arched into him and you keened, encouraging him to keep going. He switched to your other breast and chuckled as you continued writhing underneath him. “Wonder if I could make you cum just like this,” he said, looking up at you.

“Stop teasing, Dean,” you whined, shoving his shoulders down to your pussy.

“Hmm, but it’s so much fun,” he replied. Dean skimmed his fingers down to the band of your underwear, playing with the hem. You sucked in a sharp breath and squirmed beneath him. “Why would I do what you want when this is so much more enjoyable for me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Dean!” you cried out. “Please!”

“Fine,” he responded. The man above you pushed your panties down your legs before dipping his fingers into your cunt. “So wet for me already?”

“Fuck you,” you murmured in embarrassment.

He tsked. “Is that any way to talk to the guy who made you cum three times this morning?”

“It is if he’s being a fucking tease,” you replied, running your nails over his abs just above his V-line.

He groaned at your actions before grabbing your wrist and pinning it next to your head. “Now who’s being a tease?” Dean used one hand to pin your wrist above your head and the other to grab your other. He pinned them above your head, instructing you to keep them there.

He moved back down your body, stopping when he reached your core. He eagerly ate you out like a man starved, and your hands flew to his hair. He immediately stopped.

“What’d I say?” he asked gruffly.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly, grabbing the headboard above you to keep your hands there.

He moved back to your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you grip the headboard tighter. “Fuck, Dean!” you cried out.

He curled two long fingers inside you, groaning at the slick pooling between your thighs. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as he hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers and continued harshly sucking your clit, every now and again swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck, fuck, please, I’m gonna—” And then he was gone. “What the fuck?” you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving you.

“You don’t get to come until I say,” he growled. “You understand?”

You nodded eagerly, still white-knuckling the headboard. You spread your legs wide, fully displaying your pussy to him. “Fuck me, Dean.”

His hand came harshly down on your clit. You yelped in surprise.

“You don’t make the demands here, I do.” He spanked your clit one more time for good measure before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them in earnest, closing your eyes as you licked them clean. Dean groaned at the feeling and freed his fingers from your mouth, gripping your throat as he bent down to kiss you.

Before you knew it, Dean’s cock was inside you, making you gasp into his mouth. He sheathed himself fully inside you, and you locked your legs around his hips. He rocked into you roughly, each thrust making you come more and more alight.

“Can I touch you?” you breathed out. “Please?”

“Beg,” he replied, still keeping his thrusts even.

“Dean, please let me touch you. Please, please, I need to touch you,” you groveled through shallow breaths.

“Hmm…” he smirked, rolling his hips into yours roughly.

“Dean! Please! Please!” you cried, gasping. “I need to feel you, Dee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, you can,” he said.

You were on him in an instant, one hand in his hair and the other winding around the underside of his shoulders. You kissed your way down his neck and nipped at the base of it, careful not to leave any dark marks; even though you really wanted to. Dean’s pace began to falter as you felt his cock twitching inside you.

“Cum with me,” he instructed you. He reached down to your clit, drawing rough circles, before burying his face in your shoulder. “Cum with me, now, (Y/N).”

You came with a high-pitched moan, your orgasm crashing into you suddenly. Your legs locked around the base of Dean’s spine, keeping him inside you as he came. You moaned again at the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out, causing you to whine at the loss. Dean laid on your bare chest, breathless.

You took a few minutes to linger in this feeling which you decided was your version of heaven. No monsters, no fighting, no police run-ins— just Dean laying on your chest, breathing in time with you. However, you knew Sam would be coming back any minute now.

“Dean,” you said, trying to wiggle out from under him.

“Hm?”

“We gotta get up, Sam’s gonna be back soon.”

“Who cares.”

“Me!” you squealed as his grip tightened around you. “I don’t really want Sam to see my bare tits!”

He kissed between the valley of your breasts, nuzzling your left one with his cheek. “But I wanna keep lookin’ at ‘em.”

“Dean!”

“Alright, alright.” He finally let go of you, and you pulled your clothes back on. This time, you put your jeans and the shirt you wore before you and Dean fucked for the first time that morning to avoid Sam knowing what had been happening. You headed back over to your laptop, and reloaded the FBI’s database page.

“What is so important over there?” Dean asked, coming over to you.

You turned your laptop to face him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna drive yourself crazy lookin’ at that.”

“Well, sorry, but I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested,” you scoffed.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

You looked away from your computer and back up to him with big doe eyes.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” Dean growled.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself if you don't,” he replied.

Despite your earlier activities, heat flooded once more between your thighs. “Dean—”

At that moment, Sam burst through the door. “Hey.”

Dean jerked away from you, and you awkwardly returned to the computer in front of you.

“So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?” Dean questioned, scratching the back of his neck.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Gloria Sitnick. And I'm not so sure she's crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was... touched by an angel?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace.”

You scoffed. “Definitely completely sane. What about the guy she stabbed?”

“Uh, Carl Gully. She said she killed him because he was evil,” Sam explained.

“Was he?” Dean asked.

The brunet shrugged. “I don't know. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, had lots of friends. He was a churchgoer.”

Dean paced around, all-business mode. “Hm. So then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, phew, she wouldn't be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of religion. Know what I mean?”

“No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?” Sam countered.

“Well, little odd, yes, supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in.

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“ ‘Cause angels aren’t real,” you replied.

“(Y/N/N), there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted,” the younger brother reminded you.

“Yeah, you know what? There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they, they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass,” Dean grunted.

Sam sat down across from you, deadpanning, “Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?”

“That's cute,” Dean monotoned, “I'm just saying, man, there's just some legends that you just, you file under ‘bullcrap’.”

“And you've got angels on the bullcrap list.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause I’ve never seen one,” you chimed in.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “So what?”

“So I believe in what I can see,” Dean argued.

“Dean! You and I have seen things that most people couldn't even dream about.”

“Sam,” you started, trying to mollify both brothers. “I think that’s his point. We can actually see that stuff. Hard proof, y’know? We don’t have hard proof of angels.”

“This is a– a demon or a spirit,” Dean continued. “You know, they find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe.”

“Can we just— I'm going stir-crazy, guys. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?” Dean begged you and Sam.

“I was just there. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF…” Sam trailed off.

“You didn't see any fluffy white wing feathers?” Dean deadpanned.

“But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gully's doorway,” Sam huffed.

Dean perked up at that notion. “Could be something at his house; it's worth checking out.”

“I don’t love that idea, Dean. Please… stay here, okay? Sam and I can handle it,” you argued.

Dean groaned. “(Y/N), I’m going fucking crazy in here. Please?”

You crossed your arms. “No.”

He went to say something again.

“No. Sam, you’re on Dean duty. I’ll be back in a few hours,” you stated firmly.

“(Y/N)—”

“Dean,” you warned. “I’ll bring you back some beers, okay?”

He huffed.

“I’ll throw a burger and some quarters in there, too, okay?”

Dean huffed again, but said nothing in response.

You tugged your boots on, and Sam tossed the keys to you.

“Not a scratch, (Y/N),” Dean told you firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

***

About two hours later, you returned with a six pack and burgers and fries for the boys.

“Oh, (Y/N), thank god,” Sam exclaimed when you returned.

“What, has he been that bad?” you asked.

“I’m right here, y’know,’ Dean grumbled. “You bring any quarters?”

“Told you I would.” You chucked the roll of quarters and his car keys back at him.

You put the six pack down on the table and began distributing the food between the brothers.

“Woman, you’re fucking awesome,” Dean groaned as he took a bite of his burger.

Sam laughed. “So, what’d you find out?”

“Well, Mr. Gully had some pretty dark secrets,” you began. “I found three sets of bones buried under his house. Poor babies were kids from the local college who disappeared about a year ago. And get this; all of ‘em were last seen at the library.”

“Sick bastard,” Dean grunted.

“So Gloria's angel—” Sam started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“Angel?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever this thing is…”

“Whatever it is, it's struck again,” Dean jumped back in through a mouthful of food.

“What?” you questioned.

“Dean hasn’t put down the police radio since you left,” Sam told you. “There was this guy, uh, Zach Smith, some local drunk; he went up to a stranger's front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?” you asked.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it,” Dean quipped. He took a post-it note off the mirror. “Now, I, uh, got the victim's address.”

“Dean—”

“(Y/N), I am not staying here again. Just this one thing? Please?”

“No, Dee. I’m not taking that risk. You have got to lay low,” you insisted.

“(Y/N), how are you gonna stop me from doing my job?”

“Because if it involves putting yourself at risk, then it’s not happening,” you protested.

“My whole job is risk,” he argued, stepping closer to you. “There’s just… an added level now.”

“Exactly. Which means we have to be that much more careful. Especially considering we have the feds on our ass. I’m not letting this happen,” you shot back.

“Hate to say it, Dean, I think (Y/N)’s right,” Sam jumped in. “I’ll go check out the vic’s house. (Y/N), stay here.”

“Fine by me,” you said.

Dean grunted in aggravation, and flopped down on the bed after putting a few quarters in the Magic Fingers machine. You knew he’d probably stay angry with you for the rest of the evening.

After a few minutes of silence and when the rumbling came to an end, you spoke up again. “Dean,” you sighed. “I’m not trying to be a huge ass, okay? I’d be angry with me, too. But this is just… It’s a lot. And I’m trying to keep you boys as safe as possible. And I wanna help Sam with this case, but I can’t if I’m worried about you not staying put, okay?”

Dean didn’t respond, and you thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. At least, that was until you heard him murmur, “Okay.”

*** Sam informed you and Dean that the most recent victim had been planning to meet with a thirteen-year-old girl. Your stomach turned when he told you, and Dean looked like he would’ve kicked the guy to hell and back given the opportunity. Sam also told you that both victims went to the same church called “Our Lady of the Angels.”

“That’s funny,” you’d commented.

Following last night’s conversation with Dean, you felt more comfortable leaving him to his own devices. And so, it was up to you and Sam to go talk to the priests at said church.

“So you're interested in joining the parish?” the priest, who’d introduced himself as Father Reynolds, asked you.

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Where'd you say you lived before?”

“Fremont, Texas,” you said without missing a beat.

“Really? That's a nice town,” Fr. Reynolds noted. “St. Teresa's parish, you must know the priest there.”

“Yes, sir. He’s wonderful,” you nodded.

“You know, we're just happy to be here now, Father,” Sam broke in.

“And we're happy to have you, we could use some young blood around here.”

“Hey, listen, I gotta ask,” you began hesitantly. “No offense, but uh, the neighborhood?”

Fr. Reynolds sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Well, it's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that, but that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime you work your butt off.”

“Yeah, we, uh, heard about the murders,” you acknowledged.

“Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I'd known them for years.”

Sam quirked his head to the side. “And the killers said that an angel made them do that?”

“Yes. Misguided souls, to think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic,” the priest sighed.

“So you don't believe in the whole ‘angel’ thing?” you questioned.

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe,” he chuckled. “Kind of goes with the job description.”

Sam nodded toward the painting on the wall. “Father, that's Michael, right?”

“That's right. The archangel Michael, with the flaming sword. The fighter of demons. Holy force against evil.”

“So they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant?”

“Well, I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, uh, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified’,” the priest finished.

You nodded sagely. “Luke two nine.”

The priest seemed surprised you knew that. “Yes, actually.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “My, uh, my mom was a pretty zealous Catholic,” you explained as Fr. Reynolds began leading you out of the door. “She’d quiz me on the bible verses every now and again.”

You could feel Sam’s eyes on you while you began heading down the steps of the church.

“Well, thank you for speaking with us, Father,” the brunet said.

“Oh, it's my pleasure. Hope to see you again,” the priest nodded.

You noticed a collection of tribute items at the bottom of the steps; candles, flowers, pictures, and rosaries. “Hey, Father, what's, what’s all that for?”

Fr. Reynolds deflated a bit. “Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.”

“Was?” you questioned.

“He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt,” he explained.

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you told him.

“Yeah, me too.” The priest couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from his friend’s memorial. “He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died I've been praying my heart out.”

“For what?” Sam asked.

“For deliverance. From the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose,” he replied.

“Thanks, Father. We’ll see you around sometime,” you nodded solemnly. He headed back inside.

“Well, it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death? That's vengeful spirit material right there,” you noted.

Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“And he knew all the vics, because they went to church here,” you continued. “In fact I'm willing to bet that because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew. Reconciliation and all that jazz.”

“Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening?” Sam countered.

“Sam,” you sighed. “I know you wanna believe, but I’m not really sold on this whole ‘angel’ idea. Why do you seem so convinced?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But I do know that I pray. Every single day. I have for a long time.”

You startled a bit. “Really? I had no idea.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What made you stop?”

“Well, like I said, my mom was always a bit of a zealot,” you began. “And… let’s just say I saw how well prayin’ worked out for her.”

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look.

“C’mon, let’s go check out Fr. Gregory’s grave.”

Sam followed you down to the crypt. It was a bit of a maze of stone hallways lined with numerous stone angel statues. You headed a little ahead of Sam deeper into the crypt. You turned back when you noticed Sam wasn’t behind you, and then suddenly felt the ground beneath you shaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured before running to where you thought Sam may be. “Sammy?” you called. “Get the rocksalt out—” You halted momentarily when you noticed Sam’s slumped over form on the ground. “Hey! Sam! Wake up!” you cried, grabbing his face in both your hands. He jerked awake as soon as you touched him. “You okay?!” you asked worriedly.

He looked past you at the angel statue behind you. “Yeah. Yeah. 'm okay.” He seemed a little startled.

You helped him to his feet and led him into the sanctuary. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, (Y/N), I saw an angel,” he said.

“You—” You shook your head, unsure how to approach this situation. “So. What makes you think you saw an, uh, angel?”

“It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace,” he explained.

You swallowed harshly, feeling suddenly unsettled. “Wh—” You laughed uncomfortably.

“I know this is a lot, but I’m telling you, it spoke to me. It knew who I was,” he said.

You shook your head. “Spirits can do that, though, y’know that, right?”

Sam didn’t seem convinced.

“Okay, let me guess,” you tried. “You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam nodded.

“Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did?”

“Actually I did, (Y/N). And the angel told me. He hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will,” Sam nodded.

You started pacing. “I don’t believe this.”

“(Y/N), the angel hasn’t been wrong yet!” Sam protested. “Someone's going to do something awful, and I can stop it!”

You scoffed. “You’re supposed to do something awful, too. Does that mean I’m just supposed to nuke you right now?”

“Y’know what? I don't understand! Why can't you and Dean even consider the possibility?”

“What, that this is an angel?”

“Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!”

“Y’know what, Sam, if that’s what you believe, fine,” you sighed. “If faith is what helps you sleep at night and brings you a little peace, then, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But I cannot rationalize worshiping a god who’s gonna condemn me to a pit of fire and suffering for the simple fact of non-belief. I mean, think about it, man. He knows exactly what it would take to get every person to believe, and he still chooses not to show it to us.” You began to pace faster. “And, and? Why would homosexuality be the thing he chooses to put his foot down on? And if you are this great and good god, why is that love wrong? And if people believe in other religions, why does that mean they’re going to hell? What if they’re Buddhist and an exceptional person; they still have to go to hell? Hindu? I don’t fucking get it, Sam. And if my options are going to heaven with all the churchgoers— who are mostly hypocrites and these fuck-os who are abusing kids and murdering on Tuesday after just leaving church the Sunday before, then send me straight on down to hell. I’ll take eternity with actually decent people over these yuppies and troglodytes any day.” You stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed shocked. “It’s okay,” he said, despite himself.

You huffed, scratching the back of your head. “Anyway, I got some hard proof we’re dealing with a spirit.” You led him over to Father Gregory’s grave. It was crawling with mangled vines, and you crouched down in front of it.

“That looks like—”

You cut Sam off. “Wormwood. Plant associated with the dead; specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Maybe?”

“I don't know what to think,” he said honestly.

You sighed. “Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“We'll summon Gregory's spirit,” you responded simply.

“What? Here? In the church?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Just need a few odds and ends and my journal for a séance ritual.”

“Oh, a séance, great. Hope Whoopi's available,” Sam quipped.

You deadpanned at him, “Cute. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, a séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest.”

“But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then we’ll know for sure. And then I can grovel in front of Michael or Zachariah or Castiel or whichever the hell angel it is and beg for their forgiveness before they smite me.”

“The hell kind of angel’s named Castiel?” Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Angel of temperance and serenity. Not traditional Catholicism, but I digress. I told you, my mom was a complete Jesus-freak,” you snorted. “Alright, let’s go get my journal. Hopefully Dean’s still there. I swear to god, I’ll send him to hell and back if he’s not.” *** Thankfully for Dean, he was right where you’d left him. He looked bored out of his skull, but he actually listened to you. “Jesus, how fuckin’ long does it take to talk to a priest?”

“Not right now, Dean. Sam’s a little, uh, possessed? Cursed? Don’t know what the right word is in this situation. Divinely inspired?” you continued.

“What? He saw it?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t have time to rehash all this. Now, Dean, you comin’ or not?” You turned to the elder brother.

“Wait, you’re letting me out?”

You scoffed. “Dean, you’re not a hostage. C’mon. We could use the help especially now that Sam’s been angel-drugged.”

Dean chuckled.

“What?” you asked.

“Sam got touched by an angel,” he snickered.

You burst out in laughter, and Sam just deadpanned.

***

Your next stop was a small grocery store that you hoped didn’t have security cameras that would be able to identify Dean. Sam bounded out of the store holding a paper sack and chuckling. “Guys. I'll admit we've gone pretty ghetto with spellwork before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We'll just put it Spongebob-side down,” Dean shrugged.

Sam’s laughter subsided suddenly as he stared at someone across the street.

“What is it?” you asked him.

“It’s him,” he replied. “That's the sign!”

“Where?” Dean questioned.

“Right there, right behind that guy! That's him, Dean. And we have to stop him,” Sam pleaded.

Sam started after him, but you and Dean held the giant man back.

“Wait a second,” you stated.

“What are you doing? Let me go,” Sam grunted.

“You're not going to go kill somebody because a ghost told you to, are you insane?” Dean hissed.

“Dean, I'm not insane, I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Define ‘stop’, huh? I mean, what are you going to do?” Dean pressed.

“Dean, please, he's going to hurt someone, you know it.”

“Alright, come on,” Dean said finally. You moved to the other side of the car, and Dean quickly shoved you down into the backseat.

“Dean. Unlock my door,” Sam commanded, still standing on the sidewalk.

“You're not killing anyone, Sam. (Y/N) and I got this guy, you go do the séance,” he nodded.

“Dean!” Sam called after you, but Dean was already pulling away. He followed the man who’d been holding the yellow flowers down a short distance down the street before the guy stopped in front of a girl. She got in the car with him, and your heart sank as you climbed into the front seat.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you murmured.

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean gripped the wheel tightly and started trailing the blue car again.

The allegedly evil man soon turned down a dark alley, and you temporarily lost sight of him. Dean cursed, “Dammit!” and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Dean, Dean, follow him, c’mon,” you begged, and he slammed his foot on the gas, turning down the alley he thought he’d seen the man head down. Thankfully, his guess was correct, and you and Dean quickly ran to opposite sides of the man’s car. You could hear the young woman crying and the man shouting at her as you approached. Dean punched the window, and you took that as your opportunity to quickly pull the girl out of the car.

“Are you okay?” you asked her, grabbing her shoulders.

“Thank god!” she cried, surging forward to hug you.

You called to Dean as the man sped off in his blue car. “Dean! I got her, you follow him! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Dean nodded, sprinting back to the Impala and following the man out of the alley.

“Did he do anything to you?” you asked her.

She shook her head, still crying.

“Do you have any friends nearby? I’ll walk you to ‘em,” you told her.

The woman nodded. “Yeah, um, my friend—” she hiccuped, “my friend Sarah lives around here.”

“Okay, can you call Sarah? Let her know you’re on your way?”

She nodded again, and you rubbed her back with your hand to soothe her while you started walking toward her friend’s apartment.

You got to know her as you walked to help her calm down and distract her from what had just happened. Her tears slowly subsided, and you seemed to have calmed her down by the time you arrived at her friend’s apartment complex. She hugged you tightly after announcing the two of you had made it.

“Thank you so much,” she told you.

“Anytime,” you told her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She nodded and headed up the front steps. She turned to you when she reached the door, waving goodbye one last time.

***

You somehow managed to get back to the motel. Surprisingly, Sarah’s apartment hadn’t been too far from it. You only needed to walk about thirty minutes before you stumbled upon it.

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door to the Winchesters’ room. Both Dean and Sam were packing. “How’s everybody doin?”

Sam looked demoralized. “You were right. It wasn't an angel. It was Gregory. I don't know, guys, I just, uh—” he sat down on the bed. “I wanted to believe… so badly. It's so damn hard to do this, what we do. You're all alone, you know? And there's so much evil out there in the world, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up—”

Dean sat next to him. “Yeah, well, don't worry about that. All right? I'm watching out for you.”

The brunet smiled. “Yeah, I know you are. But you're just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe what?” you asked.

“Maybe I could be saved.” He suddenly realized what he admitted and chuckled nervously. “But, uh, you know, that just clouded my judgment, and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what we can see, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it's funny you say that,” Dean said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news. We barely got there in time.”

“What happened to him?” you questioned.

“He's dead.”

“Did… Did you?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No. But I'll tell you one thing. If— The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean— I don't know what to call it.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What? Dean, what did you see?”

“Maybe… God's will.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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writeblrcafe · 2 years ago

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A Comprehensive Guide for Writing Advice

Sometimes, despite enjoying writing so much, something is not working for you. Maybe your well of ideas has run dry. Or your WIP has hit a corner and you can't find your way out to the end of the story. Or you need to go back to your finished draft and see if there are any kinks to clear up.

Fortunately, everyone at Writeblrcafé has experienced such, and to help you out, we have a bunch of links to helpful posts by fellow writers to help you along on your writing journey as well as some helpful links to other websites, resources and software.

General:

WHY IS WRITING IS SO FUCKING HARD? (@writers-hq)

Writer Block First Aid Kit (@isabellestone)

Websites for writers (masterpost @2soulscollide)

Writing advice (masterpost @theliteraryarchitect)

Writing resources (masterpost @stinastar)

One look thesaurus (a reverse dictionary where you can enter words or concepts)

Coming Up with Ideas:

97 Character Motivations (@theplottery)

Character Flaws (@fantasyfillsmysoul)

Character Profile (@mistblossomdesigns)

Characters Unflawed (@emptymanuscript)

Why Theme is More Important than Plot (@theplottery)

Weekly writing prompts on Reedsy

Drafting:

3 of the worst story beginnings (and how to fix them) (@theplottery)

Cheat Sheet for Writing Emotion (@myhoniahaka)

Creative Writing for Writers (@writerscreed)

Describing Physical Things (@wordsnstuff)

How to Craft a Natural Plot (@theplottery)

How to Write a Story? (masterpost @creativepromptsforwriting)

How to write: ethnicity & skin colour (@youneedsomeprompts)

What the F is Show Not Tell (@theplottery)

Writing advice from my uni teachers (@thewritingumbrellas)

First Draft: story outlining template meant to help with planning your next big writing project (@fauxriot)

The wonder/ discovery arc (@evelynmlewis)

How to structure a chapter (@theplottery)

How to pace your storytelling (@charlesoberonn)

How to write and research mental illness (@hayatheauthor)

Seven Blogs You Need To Read As An Author (@hayatheauthor)

Editing/Revising:

Eight steps in making the editing process of your book easier (@joaneunknown)

Kill Your Darlings (@tibodine)

Self editing tips (first pass) (@projecttreehouse)

Publishing:

Chill Subs: biggest database for literary magazines and small presses; track your submissions and get your writing published!

5 steps to get your novel ready to self-publish (by @nanowrimo)

Resources for finishing and publishing your novel (masterpost by @nanowrimo)

For self-publishing: this page gives you the exact pixel count of a book spine based on its page count, and/or a template you can use for the correct width/height ratio.

Software:

Scrivener: one time payment of $60 or 70€ (macOS/windows), $24 (iOS; no Euro listed for iOS); used by professionals, many tools to write and organize your novel

Bibisco: free and "pay what you want" version; multilingual, world building, character profiles, writing goals, story timeline, mind maps, notes and more templates to write a novel.

Manuskript: free open source-tool; outliner, novel assistant, distraction-free mode

Ghostwriter: a free and open alternative which has a decent interface with some interesting features, like Hemingway Mode, which disables one's backspace and delete keys, emulating a typewriter.

NaNoWriMo: an international contest to encourage writers to finish writing their novel with many events, groups for exchange with fellow writers, helpful writing advice and help for self-publishing and publishing traditionally.

Campfire Writing: website, desktop app, and mobile app, with tools built in to help manage characters, magic systems, research, etc. It has a great free option, plus monthly, annual, and lifetime purchase options. It also has built-in NaNoWriMo compatibility and a catalogue of tutorials and writing advice videos (suggestion by @harfblarf)

Websites And Writing Apps Every Author Needs In 2023 (@hayatheauthor)

Let us know in the comments if there are any links we could add to it! Reblog this post to help a fellow writer.

Support our work by buying a cup of coffee on KoFi.

#wc.admin #writing community #writing advice #writing tips #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing resources #writing software

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mncxbe · 6 months ago

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#I WANNA FEEL YOU, I WANT IT ALL

𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡𝒄𝒘: mentions of bullying, nsfw, reader discovers masturbation, inappropriate use of tentacles, mild degrading

when he joined the PS, Yoshida was taught that all devils were cunning, vicious creatures with an appetite for blood and carnage, but his opinion changed after he met you.

not too long ago, his superiors instructed him to keep an eye on a devil that recently appeared at his highschool. the mission seemed interesting enough considering that you were quite a mistery for the PS– there were no records of your existence anywhere in their database, which meant that you were either a very old and incredibly powerful devil who had not once died in hell or you just spawned out of the blue in the heart of Tokyo. either way, his curiosity was piqued and he had great expectations.

those high hopes were shattered within hours of meeting you. with an obnoxious attitude, basically nonexistent knowledge of the human world and a tendency to get in trouble you were the epitome of stupidity. you were as bad as Denji, no. worse. at least the blond could listen to his orders. you on the other hand, seemed to go out of your way to make his life a living hell. "hiroooo why isn't this thing working?" you'd whine, kicking the vending machine in the school's cafeteria with the rounded tip of your glossy uniform shoe. he'd already explained you multiple times how the machine worked, but you just couldn't get it through your thick skull. oh, not to mention that you couldn't grasp the concept of money and went around stealing things from classrooms and the little shops close to the school campus. you were an absolute menace.

naturally, it wasn't long until you managed to piss of everyone else in your class and got into fights with the school's bullies. problem was, your body was so weak you couldn't even use an ounce of the powers you once had, so most of the times you ended up being a punching bag until Yoshida himself dragged you out of the fight and took care of your injuries.

"i fucking hate this" you mumbled under your breath, hissing sharply as the man before you patched up a shallow cut on your leg. "why can't you just give me some blood so I can heal?"

"because that way you'll never learn to behave. sorry, but you'll have to do it the hard way"

"meaning that I have to wait weeks for this damn cut to heal itself? no thanks" you huffed, trying to get off the desk you were perched up on but he quickly tightened his grip on your thigh, giving you an irked look "stay put" . surprisingly enough you complied and stuck to pouting in silence, occasionally shifting your weight to ease the tension in your body. soon after, Yoshida finished wrapping a thin layer of gauze around your thigh and motioned you to get out of his room.

"you know, you humans are so frail. your bodies are weak and basically useless. all they can feel is pain and hunger, it's so stupid" god... you just couldn't stop complaining. if you were anyone else Yoshida would've simply let it slide, but this was too good of an opportunity to mess with you.

neatly placing the bandages back in their designated place, Yoshida hummed "well, they're not really useless. there's some pretty cool stuff these bodies of ours can feel"

"oh, please enlighten me." you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest and lightly tapping your feet on the floor in expectancy, a nasty habit you picked up from one of your classmates. but there it was, you took the bait. with a nonchalant motion, the man pointed at your crotch. "there"

you gave him a quizzical look, your gaze lowering to your lap. "where?" Yoshida was once again baffled by your stupidity "between your legs, you idiot" he groaned, his eyebrows shooting up as you attempted to raise the hem of your skirt with your dainty fingers. "not here for fuck's sake. just... go to your room and figure it out yourself."

unbeknownst to him, you actually spent the whole night trying to figure out what his words meant. at first you didn't really know what to do, simply standing naked in front of the full length mirror in your bathroom, your eyes musing the curves of your body. it was the first time since you got this body when you actually took your time to explore it– the fairly long arms and narrow shoulders, the hollow space where the nape of your neck met your collarbones, the soft mounds of fat on your chest, your waist melting into plushy hips and thighs and calves, narrowing at your ankles and continued by two small feet. it was... certainly a big change compared to your previous form, but it'll have to do as long as you lived in this world. you took a deep breath before tentatively slipping a hand between your legs, waiting to feel something– as your fingers ghosted over your folds an odd sensation took over you. something sudden, fuzzy, that shook your senses awake.

your fingers moved with more confidence now, almost instinctively brushing against that little bundle of nerves that made your eyes flutter shut. "shit—" you sighed, hastly seating yourself on the floor in front of the mirror and spreading your legs, taking in the sight of your slick folds for a brief moment before rubbing little circles on your clit. it was pure bliss, warmth spreading through your limbs with each slow flick of your fingers. yea, this must've been the feeling Yoshida referred to... soon enough the knot in your lower belly tightened, hips stuttering, eyes closing shut as you reached your high and bit down on your lips. never before had you experienced such sheer pleasure and you'd be damned if you were going to waste the newly discovered potential this new body had.

from that day on, Yoshida regretted messing with you like this. you irked him enough before, but after he taught you what your body could feel your incessant whining only got worse. you were so needy all the time, begging him to show you more, to make you feel even better. without intending to, Yoshida created a greater problem for himself. but at least now he had some leverage over you, a means of keeping you in check, to make sure you don't step out of line and get into stupid fights again. and that's how you started your little after hours activity.

"ngh– Hiro don't stop feels s' good" you babbled out in a weak voice, your face mushed up into his pillow. from his spot at the desk littered with notebooks and papers, Yoshida nodded absentmindedly. if he were to turn around he knew he'd be met with a pretty view– you on your knees with your back curved into a perfect arch, heaving chest flush against the mattress as two of his devil's tentacles held your hips up in the air. a third appendage slid in and out of your cunt, making you mewl and squirm. however, the assignment he was currently working on was a bit more important than that. but he could still hear the squelching sounds you made with each curl of the tentacle and smell the sweet scent of your arousal lingering in the room. "keep it down, will you. can't have everyone on the hall hearing you moan like a slut."

"'m not a ah fuck– 'm not a slut" you objected, earning a chuckle from the man. he turned halfway in his chair, just enough to catch a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye, a devious smile playing on his lips "you sure look like one to me"

his comment aggravated you even more but before you could say anything a second appendage pushed past the tight ring of your pussy, stretching you open. "oh god it's t-too much—" but he wasn't paying any attention to you anymore, his focus shifting back to his homework.

you hated how disinterested he was, how easy it was for him to just do his work while he let the Octopus Devil handle your insatiable needs. at first it was enough, but then you wanted something more. you wanted him, and the fact that he was so unresponsive to all your attempts to get him to please you himself was unnerving.

you tried all the tricks you heard the other girls in your class did with their boyfriends; looking at him with pretty doe eyes, bending over in front of him to pick something up from the ground, giving him full view of your panties, damn– you were literally naked on his bed. anything to get him riled up but he still wouldn't give in. you'd lie if this wasn't the most humbling experience in your entire life– stooping so low as to let your cunt be stuffed by another devil's tentacles in hopes of having Yoshida just lay a finger on you. a soft moan rolled past your lips as one of the appendages slithered up to your clit, making your eyes roll back in your skull. "yoshida can you u-uh look at me" you mewled, letting out a frustrated huff when the man shrugged. "i'm busy, as you can see, and if you don't behave I'll command the Octopus devil to stop... well, whatever he's doing."

"but Hiro I want you t-to watch me" you pressed and he finally put his pencil down, turning his chair to face you "happy now?"

in fact you were more than happy– despite his obvious disinterest and annoyance, your walls fluttered around the tentacles just from having him look at you. "y-yea happy. so, so happy" you squirmed, propping yourself up on your forearms to give him a better view of your tits. Yoshida only sighed, rolling his eyes "i know what you're trying to do and it won't work. i'm not fucking you."

"pretty please" you begged, wiggling your hips in a desperate attempt to tempt him. still, to no avail. Yoshida watched you with an amused smile etched onto his face. seeing you this desperate was quite entertaining, he couldn't lie, and you sure made a pretty sight for sore eyes, but he wouldn't dream of actually touching you like you wanted him to. instead, he got up from his chair and languidly moved by your side, crouching down next to the pile of your messily discarded clothes. "no, I won't do it" but why not. "because needy girls like you aren't my type"

you scoffed at his remark and he quickly gripped your jaw, tilting your head up so he could get a better look at your fucked out expression– you were a mess, fighting back tears of pleasure as the tentacles buried themselves deeper inside your soaked cunt, hitting all the right spots; you bit down on your lip. he wiped a string of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, tracing his fingers over your bottom lip. "but i guess it's not your fault you're like this. after all, i'm the one who taught you how to please yourself" you let out a shallow moan after hearing his words, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

"poor you... i bet it sucks, being a hotshot down in hell for so many years just to end up a slut on earth." he continued and you felt a familiar warmth pooling in your core. Yoshida noticed you were getting off to this by the way you nipped at your bottom lip and the flare in your eyes, his grin melting into a soft, compassionate smile "consider this your punishment for putting me through so much shit at school these months. although I've got to give it to you, since we started this routine of ours you've been more behaved."

you nodded eagerly, shifting forward to lean closer to him "yea, I've been good. always so good".

"not always, just when it suits you" he chuckled, giving the crown of your head a light pat "but you're getting there. keep it up and i might give you what you want one day as a little reward. until then though, you'll have to do with those." Yoshida gestured at the tentacles behind you and you nodded frantically. you only head half of what he was saying, too blissed out to pay attention to his words. you were getting close to your high, slick already dripping from your hole onto the sheets.

"you're so messy... i always have to change the sheets after you leave" he sighed "but you might as well go ahead and cum for me since you need it so badly"

that did it for you. before you knew it, your body spasmed and you gushed around the appendages– your fluids leaking onto the bed, soaking the mattress. "'m sorry so sorry Hiro" you babbled out, riding out your high as you pushed your hips back, making the tentacles fully fill you up. "don't worry about it. just enjoy" he said softly, his fingers gently combing through your hair.

when you eventually came down from your nth high of the day your body slumped against the mattress, your chest heaving with each shallow breath you took. Yoshida looked down at you with an amused glint in his eyes. he could tell you've had your fair share for the day so he retracted the tentacles around your body, making them disappear into thin air. you made no move to get out of his bed, instead curling up into a ball and hugging his duvet close to your chest, your breath slowly settling. "hey, hey don't get too comfortable. you're not sleeping here." he insisted but you wouldn't budge.

it was already pretty late, curfew was about to sound and it'd be pretty hard to explain a naked girl on his bed if someone came to check up on him, but Yoshida somehow couldn't bring himself to shun you. moments like these, when you laid so peacefully in bed were among the only times you were actually tolerable so despite his better judgement he pried the blanket from your arms and wrapped it around body before returning to the desk to finish his assignment.

still, it wasn't too long until he heard the duvet rustling and he turned to see what you were doing. you were once again laying on your stomach with your bare feet bashfully kicking in the air, eyeing him with a lustful gaze. when you noticed him watching you, you melted your chest into the mattress and hid your teasing grin behind your dainty hand, lifting your hips then slowly dropping them to the other side, not once breaking the eye contact "why not just give me that reward you mentioned now, hm, Hiro? for safe measure." god, you truly were hopeless...

#‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚#naw down bad for him too #also ty for almost 2k♡ love you guys #csm #csm x reader #chainsaw man yoshida #csm smut #chainsaw man smut #csm yoshida #yoshida x reader

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show-your-fangs · 1 year ago

Text

it took over me and i couldn't stop

Bracelets | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Blurb

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl!Reader

Words: 1.3k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni, oral (m receiving)

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, bunny!reader, established D/s relationship, cute little bracelets, degradation and praise kink, pet names (bunny), oral (m receiving), face fucking, sugar daddy!hotch basically using your face to destress.

a/n: for the love of my life @canuck-eh

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He was so stressed, so unbelievably stressed he hadn’t even realized he’d been fidgeting with the little beads on his wrist until Emily was standing next to him.

“Awww, that’s adorable,” she commented, bringing Aaron’s attention back down to the room. He’d been staring at the murder board in the janky precinct for almost twenty minutes now, deep in thought, desperately straining his brain for a miracle, for something, anything they hadn’t seen before. “Did Jack make it for you?”

His brows scrunched slightly, his tired brain not being able to understand what Emily could possibly be talking about. She straightened then and pointed down to the little beaded bracelet on his wrist, the one he’d been diligent about hiding over his watch, tucked under his shirt sleeve.

He looked down then, almost breathing a sigh of relief when he noticed that the little worded beads you’d added that spelled out M-A-S-T-E-R were not visible to her, and yet they weighed heavy against his wrist.

“Yeah, Jack made it for me,” he managed, catching a glimpse of you making it back into the precinct with Morgan in tow. You were laughing, carefree and the most adorable smile across your lips. He knew exactly what he needed before you even made it in the door.

He played it cool, waited until everyone was distracted with the food you’d just brought in to excuse himself to make a phone call. But instead he texted you.

Clyde: Bathroom.

Clyde: Now.

You couldn’t help the heat rise up to your cheeks. Thankfully you hadn’t been able to serve yourself yet, even if your stomach was pleading at you to feed it. It was easier to slip out because of it, claiming you were going out for a smoke (you had never bought cigarettes before in your life).

His strong hand wrapped around your arm before you could even make it to the door of the bathroom, dragging you the rest of the way down the hall and into the single stall. He closed the door behind you, locked it immediately after.

“I need to make this quick, bunny,” he groaned, pushing you down to your knees forcefully. “Let me use you, no complaining.”

“We have a few minutes,” you tried to tell him but he had already unzipped his pants, his big hand pulling out his cock from inside his boxers. “They think I’m smoking outside.”

“What could you possibly be smoking that doesn’t smell bad, bunny?” he asked absentmindedly as he grabbed a fistfull of your hair and pushed his cock inside your mouth.

“Cotton candy vape,” you choked around his cock and he couldn’t help but laugh, a laugh that was quickly twisted into a groan as you began to roll your tongue over his tip.

“Just like that,” he grunted, his hand starting to jerk your head back and forth, forcing you to take more of him with each thrust.

You did, you took everything he gave you, his cock beautifully close to jamming against the back of your throat. When you started to gag, drool threatening to drip out of your mouth, your hand flew up to catch it before it fell on his shoes.

“Good slut,” he praised before he pulled you further down on him. You took a deep breath through your nose, opening your mouth for him, making sure to relax your jaw and blink away the discomfort. He was so close, so unbelievably close to his release, to getting rid of this stupid pent up, restless energy.

And then your other hand shot up to his crotch, desperately trying to hold yourself up, closer to him, so that you didn’t accidentally get impaled, your own little bracelet on full display along the sea of other dainty little pieces of jewelry you wore on your wrist.

He could see the little letter beads spelling out B-U-N-N-Y, pretty and pink, just like you. He bottomed out right then and there, biting the inside of his cheek so the animalistic sound that was threatening to spill out couldn’t.

Your nose was pressed right into his skin, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. If he would’ve reached out and pressed his hand around your throat he was sure he would have felt himself protruding.

You started to squirm then, the ache between your thighs relentless, burning painfully as there was no way for you to get some relief, your walls clenching around nothing.

“Stay still, bunny,” he ordered and you did, wide, cock drunk eyes looking up at him with nothing but adoration and devotion. He brought his other hand down to lace your fingers with his own, his attention almost glued to both of your little bracelets pressed together.

It was such a silly detail, a Sunday night project you’d made while he was over at your apartment a few days ago. He’d just gifted you a new pair of earrings, pretty pink diamonds, and you’d told him to give you a few hours, that you wanted to return the favor.

He loved that little bracelet more than anything else in the world. It was cheap and definitely clashed harshly against the person he was trying to exude. And yet it was perfect.

He’d never thought a gift could bring him so much joy, never thought a person could bring him this much joy. But here you were, on your knees in front of him, practically swallowing him whole, with no objection, no apprehension, no fear in your eyes, and he could’ve easily burst from happiness if he wasn’t so focused on bursting down your throat instead.

“I’m gonna cum, bunny,” he told you, the heat of your neck, of that way you kept desperately trying to swallow your drool around his length making him break. You couldn’t speak, but if you could’ve, he knew you would’ve thanked him.

He came hard and he came hot, hands tightening to an uncomfortable level of pain around you, but you didn’t care, couldn’t care as his face contorted in pleasure in such a mesmerizing way. You couldn’t look away, refused to even, focusing solely on your only task – swallow, swallow, swallow. You couldn’t have your Master walking out of the bathroom with cum stained pants, you simply wouldn’t allow it, because what kind of a good pet would you be if you did?

After another long minute, after making sure you had gotten every drop, he finally pulled you off him. The hand with your bracelet quickly ran down his length, collecting every last drop of your spit that remained on him before it could even think about dripping.

You held out your wet hands as if you were praying, praying to him, still on your knees, as you waited patiently for him. He allowed himself to take in the sight for a second, picking up his phone from where he’d left it on the counter and boastfully taking a picture of you.

“Thank you, bunny,” he told you, putting his cock away, back in his boxers and straightening his shirt into his pants, zipper and button clicking into place. “You’re always such a good little cum dump for me.”

You hummed, his words only making your cheeks and chest heat up more. His strong hands hooked under your arms then, hoisting you back to your feet before he used his strength to sit you atop the counter.

The next few minutes we’re a blur of warm hands wiping your face and hands clean with a damp towel, gentle kisses placed all over your cheeks, down your jaw, all over your arms, all over your hands.

“You’re perfect,” he kept muttering in between kisses, his thumb running over your bracelet absentmindedly, all the stress he was feeling mere minutes before completely gone from his body.

so this was definitely a fever dream of a blurb. it came to me like a vision and i just couldn't stop. i promise more variety tomorrow but fuck sugar daddy!hotch is just everything to me.

glad to announce the series is officially titled The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) -- thank you to anon and my lover @canuck-eh for the inspo.

i need you to keep the requests for them coming i am on a high

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @strawbeerossi

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #show your fangs writes #show your fangs hotch blurbs #aaron hotchner blurb #dom!hotch #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl!reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde

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saszor · 1 month ago

Note

Hello!

I was wondering if you had any tips on how to find pictures for scars/acquired physical impairments? I feel that when I’m looking for photos on scars and how they look/how they develop, I tend to instead find a lot of photos of the injury itself or of a person immediately post-injury (usually very bloody photos from news articles), which isn’t exactly what I’m looking for.

Do you have any specific key words you use to search for references or use any specific databases?

Hi, I answered this somewhere in the replies under that one post so I'll copy it here;

In general, [look for] content surrounding real life burn survivors living their lives, not un-personed burn scars. So places like Phoenix Society, Face Equality International, Changing Faces, these are all orgs that support burn survivors, have advocates that are burn survivors, etc. There's a lot of models who are burn survivors like Loide Ndemueda, Turia Pitt, Catrin Pugh. You can also look up channels by burn survivors on Youtube, SBSK has a couple of in-depth interviews with burn survivors that are great (I referenced youtu.be/sIcLiC3VnTk?si=SEoVMAl4uLoYD98X for one of the drawings in this post). When learning about drawing burn survivors you need to actually get to know some burn survivors and listen to them, most people don't even think of doing this and their "burn victim" ocs are nothing but offensive stereotypes and that's unsalvageable even with the most accurately drawn scars possible.

But for looking up just the scars:

Using hyperspecific terminology is useful to get decent google results. So instead of "burns skin", which will give you everything under the sun including shitty VFX, I try searching "acid burn hypertrophy", and the results are primarily medical resources of treatment so most of them aren't showing it right after the initial burn. Including stuff like "-reddit -fatal" to avoid things you're not looking for is helpful (putting the "-" before a word in a google search will eliminate it from search results) while putting in "management" "update" or "progress" gives you what you're looking for, most of the time at least. If you're looking specifically for photos of keloids, put the word keloid in quotes "like this", it will exclude all the results that don't have it. Don't use emotional or otherwise charged words since these will give you news articles. Try "extensive" over "really bad" etc

Whatever results you get, make sure you're not :

assuming that what you're looking at is gore if you're just starting. I sometimes see shit being categorized as gore when it's pretty clear that this is a matured scar that just looks like that and I'm flabbergasted every time. If there's blood then yeah it's fresh but I know some people see someone who just didn't have surgery and think that person is dying. They aren't, they just don't have a prosthetic eye.

looking at VFX, cosplays, bad edits, random drawings (though actual medical illustrations done for actual medical purposes can be useful if they are not your only reference), all that shit.

Hope this helps

#ask

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redvexillum · 5 months ago

Text

A/N: Listen, it's complicated for Vox, alright? Give the man some slack.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, dual POV, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, Vox is a bratty sub, dom!reader, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is bad with feelings, Vox has a humiliation kink

<- PREV

“Are you listening? Vox? VOX!” Val’s screech cut through the haze, his glare piercing through Vox’s intense focus. Vox glanced up briefly, raising a single index finger in the universal sign for ‘just a moment.’

Vox was engrossed in his daily ritual of watching her latest VoxTube video. Ever since launching a cyber-attack on her account, this infuriating woman had somehow managed to turn every setback into an advantage, boosting her fame and influence. At this rate, he could almost envision her seated across from him at the Overlord meeting in a few decades' time.

In his mind’s eye, she wore one of her signature cocktail dresses that hugged her perfect figure. Her makeup was sharp and dramatic, accentuating her dangerously alluring smoky eyes. And her lips – fuck – those lips – he could already hear the verbal destruction they would unleash, full of snarky comments about VoxTek and him, just as she had loudly proclaimed in her video for years.

He imagined staring her down across the table, her smirk daring him, challenging him, to come at her. She radiated defiance and confidence, qualities that both infuriated and captivated him in equal measure.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Why did he find that so fucking sexy? It was maddening what she was doing to him.

The worst part of all this was that she probably had no idea how much she tormented him daily. She ravaged the database in his mind, corrupting all the other files to ensure he only thought of her.

He continued to watch the video; his eyes glued to her face. Her latest video was some stupid challenge she had collaborated with some no-name VoxTuber. They were challenging each other to different silly little games, like how many cookies one could shove in their mouth. The loser would have to eat a spoonful of sinnamon.

“Ai WEEN!” she declared; her mouth full of cookies. Beige-coloured crumbs spilled from her lips, and her cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk’s, preparing for hibernation.

The tips of his lips twitched upwards.

This was so stupid.

Yet, it was also fucking adorable.

“Give it up, Val,” Velvette said, scrolling through her phone as she lounged beside Vox. Her voice was exasperated as she lifted her legs and draped them across Vox’s lap. “You should be used to this by now. He’s been a die-hard fan of hers for, like, ten years.”

Spine straightening, Vox immediately paused the video. “Not a die-hard fan, Velvette,” he corrected, trying to remain pleasant and nonchalant. “Listen, she’s going to be a threat with how popular she’s getting using my network.” His gaze bounced between Velvette, who looked bored, and Val, who raised a brow in disbelief.

Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please,” she flicked her wrist dismissively, “I’ve met the bitch, and trust me, all she cares about is having a fucking good time while getting filthy rich.”

Vox blinked, a crackle of static electricity leaping from his eyes and travelling down his body, fizzling by the front of his pants. “What?” He turned towards Velvette, who was back to scrolling through her phone. Forcing out a chuckle, his right eye twitched uncontrollably.

“What?” Velvette parroted, a hint of mockery colouring her tone.

“Oh, I don’t know, Velvette,” Vox said, his tone light but dripping heavily with sarcasm, “she’s only my biggest enemy –” Val snorted, and Vox shut him up with a sharp glare, “and you didn’t think to tell me that you fucking met her?” He swung his arms out, making a grand gesture to emphasize how big of a deal this was.

“Uh, wasn’t that radio shithead your biggest –” Velvette finally looked up from her phone, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“I can have multiple enemies, Velvette!” Vox interrupted, not wanting to hear any mention of that radio prick right now. Besides, he hadn’t thought of him ever since she came into the picture and plagued every waking and sleeping moment of his damn life.

“Riiiight,” she said before her lips turned into a sly smirk. “Maybe I should’ve told her how she secretly has the number one biggest fan –”

“Not a fan!” Vox cut her off once again, forcing another chuckle where his voice wheezed from trying to control the irritation before he blew a fuse in his head.

“Right, right,” she cackled as she began to text something on her phone. “Apparently, she already has a number one fan.”

Vox tilted his head, error messages popped up in front of his mind’s eyes as he tried to digest her words. “What?” His voice came out in a pathetic squeak, and he cleared his throat, forcing his shoulders to relax as he leaned casually back onto the couch. “Yeah? And who would that be?” He pulled his gaze back down to the video of the girl who plagued his mind.

He didn’t care.

He knew she had numerous fans. He had pulled her data and saw that the majority of her fans were all older than her by several decades to even centuries. Those Sinners that all watched her mindless content were all losers.

The phone screen darkened until it fell asleep from no activity, and his face was reflected back at him.

They were all losers.

“Yeah, she got super sloshed that night. Honestly, I don't understand why you hate her. She’s fucking hilarious,” Velvette laughed out loud, her face morphing into a genuine affectionate smile that he had only seen her flash to him and Val.

“Anyway, it’s some creep by the name ScreenGuy with like some numbers or whatever,” she said, her laughter echoing in the room. “Apparently, that guy’s been buying her used sex toys for like a fucking decade!”

Heat rose to Vox’s head, but this time it was for a different reason. His thoughts raced, trying to hide the fact that he was ScreenGuy or rather ScreenDude69.

“Ugh, seriously?” Val chimed in as he sashayed back to the couch and sat on the single-seater. “What a loser,” he added.

Vox forced a laugh, trying to hide his embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, what a loser,” he muttered, his voice lacking conviction. He turned away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. How had he let himself become so obsessed? His eyes flickered back to the dark screen of his phone, reflecting his troubled expression.

“I know,” Velvette said before she snorted. “And he hasn’t been purchasing them for some small chump change either. We’re talking in the hundreds of thousands.” She shook her head as her laughter died down.

“But the funniest part,” she slapped Vox’s shoulder with the back of her hand, “you’re gonna love this, boys.” With a grin that was all teeth, she said, “half the time this bitch just sends him sex toys, brand new!”

Both Velvette and Val’s laughter echoed in Vox’s head. He forced out his laughter to join them. The last thing he wanted them to know was that he was the loser who had been purchasing sex toys for the past decade from her.

As Velvette’s laughter died down, she brought her phone back to her face. “Voxy, baby, if you want to meet your so-called greatest enemy, I’m hosting a party at the V club tomorrow night. And she just RSVP’d.”

“I’ll check my schedule if I’m free,” Vox said in a casual tone. He was going to make sure he was free tomorrow. But first, he needed to step into a refrigerator to cool down his head.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just don’t bitch and moan if you miss out on the chance to see your crush,” Velvette said, waving her hand, signifying that she was over this conversation.

Before Vox could retort that, once again, she was his enemy, there was a knock on the door. One of his assistants entered the room, his body shrinking under Vox’s attention. “Uhm, Vox, sir? You have a package from Hell Bay?”

Vox’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to maintain his composure as he ordered the assistant. “Bring it in,” he said, his voice steady but his mind racing.

The assistant placed the package on the table and left the room. Vox stared at the innocuous brown package, his thoughts a whirlwind of anxiety and anticipation. Velvette and Val were oblivious to the turmoil currently raging within him. He wanted to open it, but not here, not with them watching.

Bolting out from his seat, Vox unceremoniously threw Velvette’s legs off his lap. She grumbled but didn’t protest as he quickly grabbed the package from the table.

“You’ve been purchasing a lot of stuff from Hell Bay,” Valentino drawled, tilting his head as if he were trying to peek inside the sealed package. “What the hell are you buying from there?”

Vox’s claws dug into the box, his mind racing for a plausible excuse. There was no way he was going to ever tell them that he was the so-called loser buying the used sex toy. Putting on his typical suave businessman’s facade, he shrugged his shoulders with a winning smile.

“I’ve been ordering some computer parts since I have to update–” He stopped short, noticing that he had already lost Val’s interest. Velvette was off in her own little world, scrolling through her phone.

Most times, Vox would’ve been pissed at Val for losing interest when he was the one who asked in the first place. But Vox supposed that during times like this, he was thankful for Val's short attention span.

Satisfied that he wouldn’t press further; Vox straightened his shoulders and regarded Val and Velvette with a practised, confident smile. “Well, this has been fun,” he said, “but I have some work to catch up on.”

As predicted, they both grunted, barely acknowledging Vox’s words. Val was now engrossed in whatever was on his phone.

Tucking the package under his arm, Vox casually strolled out of the room. Once the door clicked shut behind him, his legs sped up as he took a left instead of the usual right turn that would’ve led him to his office.

He stopped in front of an unmarked door, and he leaned forward at the peephole, which was actually a camera he had installed a decade ago. The camera whirred as it locked onto his right eye. The mechanics of the lock began to click into place before a resounding, loud click echoed in the hallway. Vox checked left and right before quickly slipping inside.

The room was small and dimly lit, filled with shelves of meticulously organized VoxTek’s sex toys. At first glance, anyone who stumbled into this hidden chamber might assume they were prototypes or a showcase of the company’s innovations.

But the truth was far sadder.

Each toy was one he had bought from her on Hell Bay.

Every single one of them.

His fingers trembled slightly as he traced the outer edge of the package, the same brown paper package he received nearly on a weekly basis for the last ten years.

Anger, trepidation, elation, and shame mingled together into a noxious cocktail he was forced to stomach. He heard echoes of Velvette and Val’s mocking laughter at the poor chap – at him – who kept purchasing the sex toy, despite clearly being scammed out of his money.

For fuck’s sake, just last week, she didn’t even rip off the original packaging or the discounted price tag before shipping it off to him. This girl was playing with him, mocking him. What was worse was that his pride couldn’t allow him to purchase her items for less than what he had paid for the Cobra dildo ten years ago. Spending an absurd amount of money on her was, in a twisted way, his attempt to assert his power, to show her how much richer and more influential he was.

To show her…how daft he was.

He knelt on the floor and opened the package slowly, the tear of the tape deafening in the silence. He knew he should stop purchasing his own damn company’s products from her, but if even half of them were truly used by her…

He looked around, surrounded by the assortment of sex toys that were claimed to be used.

Fuck, he hated her so much.

He had probably spent over millions of dollars on her. He was trapped in a perverse cycle, pretending to be two people: one who sent her hate emails daily, filled with venom and vitriol, and the other that loyally purchased anything she put out on Hell Bay.

Ten years.

Fuck. Has it been ten fucking years already?

Vox sighed, pressing his claws against the middle of his forehead. Had it really been this long? He took a deep breath and tore the package open, like ripping off a band-aid to see the rot that festered from the open wound.

A cylindrical shaped toy flopped to the ground. It was a fleshlight in pristine condition. He curled his lips, realizing that this was the first time she had sent him a fleshlight and completely lied to him that she was selling one of her dildos.

God fucking dammit. He got played by her. Again.

At least she had the decency to tear off the price tag this time. With a weary sigh, he held the soft, silicone-made toy. He resolved that this would be the last toy he would buy from her.

Velvette was right.

She wasn’t a threat.

She was more of an annoyance at best. He hated her, but she was also an insignificant little worm compared to him. She was nothing where he had his status, his wealth, and his power.

But before his resolve could cement, a piece of what looked to be paper peeked out from within the hole of the fleshlight. Scrunching his brows together, he pulled it out and noticed her handwriting on one side of a photo.

Trembling, he looked at the photo and nearly coughed out his heart. His head twitched as sparks flew, and he had to protect the photo lest it catch fire from the stray sparks.

It was a photo of her – the top half specifically – where she was winking at the camera and wearing a tiny, bright sunshine yellow bikini top. It looked perfect on her, and the small piece of cloth barely covered her breast, much less the peaks of her nipples.

If he pressed his face closer to the photo, he could see a hint of the light dusting of her areola.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, staring at the photo, his pants growing taut around him, almost chafing his cock from its tight confines.

He turned the photo over, and in cute, neat handwriting, she had written:

The note and the photo ignited something primal within him, a mix of anger and arousal. He felt a surge of heat that made his skin prickle with electricity. Vox’s claws gripped the edge of the photo, his breathing heavy as he struggled to contain his emotions.

He could hear her voice as he reread her note. She would whisper these sweet, damning words. He could feel her phantom breath brushing against the side of his head, sending a wave of violent tingles down his spine.

He shouldn’t. Fuck.

He unbuttoned his pants.

He really fucking shouldn’t.

He unzipped his pants, each tooth unclicking reminding him of a death toll for his sanity.

His claws traced the imprint of her lips tattooed on the note. He imagined those very same lips wrapped around his cock more times than he would like to admit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he really fucking shouldn’t – his plea for self-restraint fell on deaf ears as he held his hardened, weeping cock and bowed his head in defeat.

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

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corviiids · 2 months ago

Note

ok wait im back for the kira game. bc i feel like its remiss to ask about goro and not ren. but also is it cheating if it's not just ren it's the phantom thieves as a whole

let's do the phantom thieves because i don't think ren has a chance on his own. sorry ren i love you but it's not gonna happen.

verdict: grudging maybe using the anime powers of friendship and being a protagonist and futaba's anime hackerman skills, but in my heart it's a no, at least not unscathed

could the phantom thieves intuit the mechanics of the death note

no. no normal person could intuit these mechanics. this answer 9 times out of 10 is gonna be a no, we've just been dealing with a lot of oustanding fictional detectives. makoto or futaba might notice that kira needs a name and a face. ren maybe, maybe, but it's not very likely given early game phantom thief (annrenryujimorgana) investigation tactics were literally completely useless running around fetchquesting scenes. ren sometimes has good ideas and is pretty insightful, but he makes more of an excellent watson, not a sherlock. this isn't really his forte. no one else is getting close. this isn't because i actually think makoto is a super smart detective type, it's just that the game always gives any deductive dialogue to her because the game has decided she's The Smart One and futaba is The Computer One and yusuke is The Art One etc etc etc, and smart at book means good at detective, and we honestly do not have time to go into all that bull shit.

once they ID light, further investigation into the metaverse + using futaba's skills might get them closer, but they wouldn't figure this out on their own.

could the phantom thieves identify light yagami

yes, but im saying this grudgingly. the phantom thieves' method of investigation drives me crazy. they identify madarame by breaking into his house, they (makoto) identify kaneshiro by demanding random thugs drive them to kaneshiro's house, they identify futaba by breaking into her house, they. hm

what im saying is they're gonna find light by getting very vaguely suspicious of him and then checking the metanav for his name. after they've got his name they'll be like a dog with a bone.

i think futaba would be able to use Fictional Hacker Abilities (where anything with a computer is possible) to work out that kira's been accessing the police databases and makoto/MAYBE ren might be able to work out from there that he's connected to the police. that might point them to light. once they get his name, they'll be able to question him in the metaverse to get the info about the death note mechanics.

could they survive (/ could they win)

im bundling these because both will depend on whether the pt are smart about this. if they do literally anything to tip light off (like breaking into his house) then they're all gonna die. also, to flip things a bit, if light works out that they're the phantom thieves, they are also gonna die, because as soon as they leave him a calling card he's gonna write their names. so it's all going to depend on whether they can change his heart before he becomes suspicious of them. if they manage to infiltrate his palace before he tries to kill them, they should make sure they're in the palace and lying in wait to grab the treasure before they leave the calling card. that way as soon as light reads the card they can get in and get out instead of giving light an entire battle's worth of time to write all their names down. but seeing as they literally never do that i do not think this is going to occur to them

to be honest. i think at least some of the phantom thieves are gonna die. they lack subtlety to a fatal degree. it is not difficult to figure out who they are. light has really any number of ways to work this out. manipulate and kill one of ren's confidants, utilise police contacts to see if there's a list of suspects, literally be in shibuya while the pt are at their 'hideout' (random walkway). i think at least some of them are gonna die unless they make up a really extremely stupid counter-gambit which works because of anime. can you tell im still bitter about some of the stupid shit that happens in this game

so yes i think they could change light's heart but i think at least a couple of thieves are gonna die about it

#asks #could they beat kira the game #we all know how i feel about the interrogation room plan but that damn fucking uber to the mafia #makes me so mad every time

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helyiios · 7 months ago

Text

Frosted tips and friendly political terrorism

Or that one time Benji got butthurt and almost made British Intelligence collapse in return.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luther says, “I did hack into some pretty important databases back in the day. Still do sometimes, when I’m really bored.”

“Have you ever done that, Benji ?” Ilsa jokingly asks to her friend, staring at him over her pint of beer. “Is it a hacker, huh, tech thing, to hack into, I don’t know, the Pentagon ?”

Benji stares back, mouth barely open. He’s thinking deeply about her words, considering his options. He could lie and brush the question off, or he could humour them. And anyway, he was already more than a little flushed, so his usual restraint regarding his past was down. Not smart, but funny nonetheless.

“I tried to get into MI6, when I was 20,” he offers, voice light. That seems to take his friends aback.

“Really ?” Ethan asks, “I didn’t know that.”

“It was a little before I worked for the weaponry tech firm, I think, two years before ? Something like that.”

“And you didn’t…stick to MI6 ?” Ilsa wonders, an eyebrow raised, “what a miss, we could’ve maybe gotten to know each other.”

“No, I didn’t manage to pass one of the tests,” Benji replies, the picture perfect of casual.

“Weapon evaluation ?”

“Psych.”

“How do you manage to fuck up a psych exam ?” Brandt snorts, albeit not unkindly, “all you have to do is agree with the examiner and maybe lie a little.”

“Well,” his friend shrugs, downing a good portion of his beer, “I was 20. I was young, unstable, and overall very angry.”

“When aren’t you ?” Luther jokes.

“Oh, you’ve not met little me. I was a shit show, if I’m honest. Anyway, I got rejected from MI6. It really, really hurt my ego.”

Ethan laughs into his glass, cheeks and ears nicely reddened by the alcohol. It was so rare for the younger man to admit to having an actual self-esteem, but it wasn’t all too bad.

“So I hacked MI6,” Benji finishes off, shrugging again.

“You what ?!”

“Yeah, yeah. Fucked with their access codes, made them even more encrypted, and then I leaked private information from really well secured and hidden chats. There was a lot of dick pics in there,” he laughs. “There was also some talks of treason, I think, but it’s not like I remember it perfectly. I was just wounded in my pride, so I leaked everything to the, huh, agents and workers at MI6. Then I erased my traces, and never looked back. Really fun times, it was when I had frosted tips and an eyebrow piercing.”

He looks at the table again, taking in each of his friends’ reactions. Brandt and Luther were smirking like idiots, Ethan looked genuinely impressed, and Ilsa was…

He frowns.

Ilsa had blanched, and looked like she might faint at any second.

“You good, mate ?” he asks worriedly, reaching out to pet her hand, “you look a little unwell.”

“Benji, tell me you’re joking.”

“Huh ? About what ? The private chats thing ?”

A nod.

“What ? No, I’m not. Why would I lie about that ? It’d be lame.”

“You did not,” she starts, clearly struggling with finding her words, “cause the Great fucking Leak.”

It’s his turn to look surprised, looking at the others for precision.

“What, it has a n—you guys named it ?”

“Oh, I remember it !” Ethan suddenly exclaims, “I was a bit new to the IMF too, but I’d heard of it. MI6 was furious, apparently. Someone had hacked into their system and the IMF and them couldn’t work hand in hand for a little while. They also had to fire and disavow a bunch of agents, I think ? Made a lot of noise, in the milieu.”

“And you’re telling me, the author of one of the most massive MI6 fuckups is you ?” Luther says, barking out a proud laugh at Benji, shaking his shoulder happily, “man, we’re in the presence of a celebrity !”

“I wasn’t at MI6 when it happened,” Ilsa adds, still very pale, “but it drove my superiors mad that they never caught the person who did it.”

Benji pouts, leaning back on his seat, arms crossed.

“Well, Jesus. I never knew you guys got so pissed at my little joke.”

“It has nothing of a joke !”

“I mean, the IMF knows,” he still protests, “I had to mention it when they recruited me.”

“Hunley knows ?!” Brandt yelps, “that’s crazy, man.”

“Hunley, Brassel, Kittridge,” Benji doesn’t appear too phased, “they actually kept me in the basement for a little while when I got given the Choice.”

“You mean, with the other techies ?” Luther asks, “I mean, I do recall meeting you there.”

“Yeah, yeah. After the weapons disaster I caused at the firm, and when they learnt for MI6, they told me to keep it on the down low. They actually insisted that I stayed on L-2 clearance for a bunch of years,” he sighs, “so I was just,” he gestures vaguely, his beer held safely in his left hand, “doing boring shit for some time. That is, until you and Ethan came to me asking for the Rabbit’s Foot, an’ all.”

“What,” Ilsa frowns, “was the IMF scared of you, or what ?”

“I mean, I tried to look as unassuming as possible. Fat, bald little technician,” her friend grins, eyes mischievous, “I mean, it’s not like I had killed anyone.”

He grimaces.

“Not directly, at least.”

“Sounds like they tried to contain you to low ranking tasks in case you’d feel yourself get bored enough to hack into our databases,” Ethan notes, slightly turned on by his boyfriend’s revelations. “How come they let you join the field agent program ?”

“I told them I grew a conscience after meeting you,” Benji laughs, and they all know he’s only half joking. “No, more seriously, I was way more stable by then. I pinky promised them I’d be a good boy, and that I’d listen to orders. I mean, have you seen yourself, E ? Thank God I’m here to hold you back, am I right ?”

“What I’m hearing is that we have two manic freaks in our team,” Brandt supplies, cheek resting limply on his closed fist. “Benji, be a sweetheart and keep your prescriptions up to date.”

“Oh, bugger off. Being L-2 was boring, though, y’know ? I was obviously better than the other technicians, so I sort of ended up doing my own stuff in my little corner. They said they found me broody,” he groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m glad I don’t have to talk to them anymore. Hey Will, did you know I fucked with the CIA’s codes during that time Ethan was away ? I kept it lowkey, but remember how you guys kept having connexion problems, and identification issues, especially with our passes, and rem—oh, oh !” he yells excitedly, pointing at him, “remember that time Hunley turned his work computer on and loud porn sounds came out ?”

“What ? That happened ?” Ethan worries, a little grossed out, “in public ?”

“Yeah ! And it was me ! I created him a whole file of porn with the nastiest things out there, there was some piss king, incest, grandma stuff and all—not that I’m judging, in there, it took them a week to clean his computer completely !”

“I’m starting to wonder if you’d taken your meds, during those six months,” Luther snorts. “Wish I’d seen that, though.”

“Yeah, no shit you failed the psych exam,” Ilsa grumbles. “Remind me to never annoy you. Ever.”

“I’m just a tech guy,” Benji unashamedly lies, smiling wide, fangs sharp. “Say, who’s up for round four ? It’s on me,” he adds, getting up without waiting for a response and trotting up to the bar.

The remaining agents stare at each other, a little disabused.

“Your boyfriend is terrifying,” the British agent says flatly, looking at her friend. “What is wrong with him ? I’m saying this with all the love I have for him.”

“The word you’re looking for is batshit crazy,” Brandt supplies with a cackle. “The whole porn thing was actually insane. I wish I’d taken a video.”

“That’s part of the charm,” Ethan simply replies, eyeing his partner up and down, watching him collect their drinks, his gaze setting on the other’s rounded ass. Mm, those pants really shaped it nicely, he thinks. “Anyway, don’t be mean to him when he’s paying for drinks.”

“I wasn’t,” Luther calls out, index raised. “I think it’s thrilling, that he’s that weird. What a fun guy. We’ll have to exchange anecdotes more often.”

“He’s not wei—“

“Eh, sort of.”

“I mean, aren’t we all ?” Ilsa offers graciously, “it’s sort of part of the job.”

There’s a contemplative silence.

“Hey, did I mishear or did Benji say he used to have frosted tips ?”

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #benji dunn #ethan hunt #ilsa faust #luther stickell #william brandt #this is me pushing the insane benji agenda <3

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yona049 · 10 months ago

Text

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Part 2

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

Disclaimer°

> Head trauma

>Passing out

>Slight sleep paralysis

°°°°°°°°°°°

[ I wrote this at 3am and there is a big chance there are typos, and grammer issues. - _ - Please let me know if there's anything that needs to be corrected. Enjoy~]

𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩🕸️𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

Children laughed as they ran through the kindergarten playground. Teachers sat on small chairs with colorful coffee cups in their hands.

One small boy, maybe 3 years old was swinging back and forth on the swing. His hands lifted into the air as his swing went alarmingly high. One of the teachers seem to notice. "Ethan! Careful on there!" she stood up quickly.

Ethan looks up at her, before his small body slips from the seat and he flies off the swing.

A flash of read zooms by before Ethan hit the ground. Spider Woman 2099 landed with the boy in her arms.

"Thank goodness you got here-" the teacher is cut off when Ethan is shoved into her arms.

"Hurry! Evacuate the children immediately!!" Y/n urges on.

"There's trouble heading this way!" quickly she rushes all the children back into the classrooms and hopefully to the exit.

Lyla pops up to Y/n's side. "ETA 3 minutes, he is moving really fast."

As soon as everyone is off the playground Y/n uses her webs to secure the door.

"I don't understand, where did he come from? Doc Ock died almost 70 years ago!"

A sudden tentacle slams into the ground just as Y/n manages to jump out of the way.

With the use of his tentacles he effortlessly clumps over the playground wall with his hands resting behind his back. His coat made from a black material with white glowing stripes and circles to decorate. His goggles also looked like he had white lights for eyes.

Y/n lands on the roof of the jungle gym before yelling. "Hey! Tron wants their wardrobe back!"

Once Doc Ock spots Y/n he sends another tentacle flying in Her direction only to break though the plastic of the roof.

Y/n dodged again only to grab hold of Doc ock's 3 other tentacles. She rips it out from underneath him and he almost lands flat on his face if it wasn't for his 5 other tentacles.

"Dang It!" Y/n swears under her breath.

Lyla pixels herself back into Y/n's point of view. "This isn't gonna be as easy as the others, you've never been up against someone like Doc Ock."

Gritting her teeth she sends a web into Doc's chest before sliding underneath him. Using the web to yank him down into the ground.

"So what are you? Like a fan boy? Or a Doctor Octavius under study?" she questions before her leg is grabbed and she's yanked across the playground into a classroom wall.

Doc Ock growls before smirking. "I've said it once, and I'll say it again! I am the one and ONLY Doctor Otto Octavius!"

Three more tentacles shoot toward Y/n. She reacts quickly and claws shoot from her finger tips. She swiftly slices the tentacle that grabbed onto her foot and jumps our of the way.

"He seems to be pretty set on that answer. Lyla? Any theories?"

"Well, Judging from the scan, I think he might be right. His Dna doesn't match Doc Ock's from 70 years ago, he doesn't match anyone's dna on our database for that matter."

Realizing she can't keep dodging she quickly searches for anything she could use that could land the Doc out of commission.

"Ok, this might be far fetched, but do you remember Alchemax End of Year Party 3 years ago?"

"Yeah! You wore that short red dress, Miguel couldn't stop growling at everyone even looking in your direction."

Y/n smiles at the memory before shaking her head. "Focus Lyla! That night we got talking to another Doctor about the Multiverse theory."

"I remember, Miguel had his theories but he never spent alot of time on that. You think this could be another universe Doc Ock?"

Before Y/n could answer, she's grabbed and held in the air with no hope of moving.

"Finally! Now tell me where Spiderman is before I rip you in two!" Doc growls.

Y/n yanks her one leg free bed kicking doc in the jaw. "She's right here!"

While he tries to recover she kicks the tentacle with her heel to break free but he recovers to quickly.

"You asked for it!" Y/n feels the tension as her body starts getting pulled apart. Her arms felt like they might get detached from her torso.

Just before she could let out a painful scream, the sound of a motorcycle catches her attention.

Doc Ock is suddenly rammed into finally dropping Y/n. "Lyla, What was that?"

"It's called a rescue!" a strangers voice answers instead of Lyla.

Y/n looks up at 2 other Spidermen. One with a white pink look and one who jumped straight out of a 70's magazine.

"I'm Gwen, and this is Hobie. You ok?" she introduced herself as she lifts Y/n from the ground.

Y/n looks around a little confused. "I'm fine, but a little confused? You're-"

"Spider men~" Hobie hums putting his hand on his side. "From another universe, 'course!"

"So, My theory was right! I'm guessing he's from your universe?" Y/n makes wave movements with her hands trying to Imitate Doc Ock.

Gwen snorts and waves her off. "Nope! He's just not from this one!"

Just then Hobie and Gwen twitch before jumping to the side.

"What the-" A plastic table flies straight into Y/n and knocks her back. Grumbling she sits back up.

"Shit!" she yells before the pixels dissappear to above her nose to reveal a bloody nose when Hobie helps her up once more.

"Ey, sorry 'bout that! No spider sense huh? I mean makes sense."

Gwen looks down at her watch before hitting some buttons.

"Well, their spider verses are literally right next to each other."

Y/n was just about to object when her head started spinning a little, Gwen grabs hold of her arm but she pulls it away.

With her hand on her head she mumbles a quick "I'm fine."

Hobie looks back at Jess who's been holding Doc Ock back the whole time.

"Step back, Love. We got it from here." he turns with his hands in his pockets but Y/n grabs him.

"No way! I got this."

This caused Hobie to smirk before swiftly swinging his leg under her and knocking her back on her ass once again.

"Yeep! Definitely stubborn like the that old geezer!" he shoots some webs onto Y/n's hands.

"Brb!" he swings off with Gwen.

"Hey!!" Y/n yells in frustration yanking her hands back and forth trying to break free.

Claws out but her hands were too stuck. "Damn kids, damn head!"

Finally her head drops back and her eyes roll back into her head. Out cold.

°°°

"I swear, Mi amor! You'll be the death of me!"

Miguel laughs when Y/n smeers cream onto his nose. They were standing in the white modern kitchen, cooking utensils and ingredients scattered across the table.

"We have so much cream left, and all the Cream cake is already coated-"

Miguel interrupts Y/n when he nuzzles his nose into her neck and hugs her from behind.

"¡Dios mío! Then use the cream for the coffee, mariposa. Not to smother me." another bright smile when he rests his chin on her shoulder.

Y/n brings her head to the side of his face and pushed him closer to kiss his cheek.

"Hmmm, mari-... posa? New one. It's cute! What does it mean?"

Y/n continues mixing, feeling Miguel's voice vibrate when he talks. "Mariposa... Is a small butterfly that falls pray to the great and dominant spider."

His voice teases when his hand travels under her top. This earns him a smack with a spoon full of cream to the face!

"Ey-!"

He stumbles back a bit and smeers the cream out of his eyes. Y/n struggles to to contain her laughter until finally she starts belly laughing still holding a wooden spoon in her hand.

"¡Ahora lo pediste!" (Now you asked for it!)

Miguel teases and quickly storms toward Y/n. She reacts quickly and dodges is grabbing hug. She starts running down the hall from the kitchen still having a giggle fit.

Miguel rather unfairly, using his web to shoot from his wrist and yanks Y/n back into his arms.

Y/n presses her lips together trying to keep from laughing. "Oh no what is little Mariposa to do now?"

Miguel smirks and gives her a small kiss with a cream filled face.

Once he pulls back Y/n licks some cream off her lips and giggles again.

"Te amo, mi mariposa." (I love you, my butterfly.)

He whispers while looking at her eyes as if they had him entirely enthralled him.

"I love you too, My spider."

°°°

Y/n's head was pounding. The force she felt on her scull managed to muffle most of the sounds and voices she heard.

"She's going to be fine. But she can't stay here."

"Jess, listen. You've seen her file! She's more than suited for the Spider Society!"

"And what if Miguel sees her?"

A completely different voice quickly chips in. "Maybe it could do some good. He's gonna Botch it anyway when he finds out what universe we had to go to for the mission!"

"Just try Jess. Maybe he could use this. For the better." Gwen begs.

Jess sighs "Alright, but keep her mask on for now. It's her choice. Her Miguel wasn't so lucky either."

#my fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #hobie brown #spider punk #gwen stacy #spider gwen #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #spider woman #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you

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