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dilfsfordinner · 2 years ago

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Escarmiento: Part Two- Miguel O’hara x fem!spider reader

a/n- i have no clue how his fangs or venom work, but just pretend like how i wrote it makes sense. also, this is very long but i didn’t want to write three parts :^

warnings- smut, predator/prey dynamics, spanking, edging, degradation, explicit language, size kink, biting, paralytic venom, mean/rough sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, aftercare, soft miggy after he realizes he was an ass

translations at the bottom!

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Colors flashed in your peripheral as you darted alongside Miles, your arms burning from the amount of swings you had to pull off, just to get some distance between the hundreds of people around you.

Sure, running may not have been the smartest thing to do, but, you did have a plan. It wasn’t the easiest to pull off, and you’d probably end up being berated by Miguel, but Miles was your priority, and your husband was usually a sane man when it came to you. Usually.

As if he wanted to prove your logic wrong, Miguel’s yells rang from behind you, his voice laced with pure anger as you slipped from his grasp a multitude of times. You were both very fast, but he was a monster. It was like trying to escape death, his claws almost catching your suit, the image of his fangs gleaming in your memories.

“Miles!” you yelled to the boy swinging a few feet ahead of you, his body stalling for you to sync with his movements. “We’ll draw them out-” you panted, your surroundings becoming familiar, recognizable to the entrance of headquarters, “-and when they’re gone, get to the machine, and go home.”

Web after web shot at you, red and blue of all kinds clouding your vision as you maneuvered around gloved hands and swinging limbs. “Y/n,” that familiar voice shouted again, trying to pull your attention away from the obstacles in front of you. “Stop running-” you heard Miguel growl under his breath, the ear splitting sound of shredding steel hitting your senses as he literally tore through walls to get to you.

He had never ever scared you before, but with his feral strength directed at you instead of a casual villain, true fear coaxed its way through your veins. You were his prey. That’s the thought that repeatedly flashed in your mind. He was hunting you and there was inevitably, no escape.

Flicking your wrist, your webbing shot to the upper beams above the training area, pulling you through the air, a panicking Miles right at your side. That particular choice was probably not the best decision, a horde of waiting spider people coming into sight as soon as you appeared through the floor.

Interrupting the frozen crowd, two glowing webs broke through the air to pull a very rage filled Miguel up after you, your feet stepping back to scurry in the opposite direction towards the glistening wall of windows. You could feel him right at your heels, his breathing ragged, a whoosh of air hitting your back, the only explanation being his claws trying to swipe at you.

Dropping into a perch-like position, you ducked a particularly harsh swing, Miguel’s body already moving too fast to stop, his large form smashing through a lower window. Miles went right along with him, leaving you to a room of people just itching to please their boss. That was until your foot was pulled from under you, a familiar web wrapped around your ankle pulling your body to the floor and out the shattered window.

You’d never gotten used to free falling, your stomach wound in knots as the air whipped past you, your wrist helplessly flailing to find some kind of structure to attach to. The web stuck to your ankle was tugged, harshly, pulling you down towards none other than your husband.

Miles was lone gone, his own fleet of spiders chasing him down, leaving you to fend for yourself. Shooting your web to a passing car, your body was caught between two forces, Miguel watching as you cried out in pain, a frustrated groan leaving his lips as he cut his web loose, letting you go. You knew that’d make him buckle, see, he didn’t want to hurt you, no, he just wanted to catch you.

Slinging to the flying car, you were glued to the roof, eyes peeled to search for Miles, your sense lighting up at the sound of Miguel hurling himself from car to car to get to you. A yelp left your lips as two sets of web-patterned arms wrapped around you, one set grabbing your legs to pin you, the other holding your midriff, squeezing all the air from your lungs. Your legs helplessly kicked against them, body bucking in their hold to get away until a rough yell resounded. “Leave her,” Miguel shouted, his fangs extending, eyes tracking their hold on you. “Ella es mía.”

Squirming out of their grasp, you swung to the train-like contraption holding the roadway, Miguel’s suit in your peripheral, his form hurtling towards you, leaving no room to escape. You landed first, crawling along the top of the silver train, Miguel’s claws scratching behind, tearing the metal in their wake.

“Miguel, please-” you panted, your eyes wide as they looked down at him, his mask dissolving to reveal crimson eyes and furrowed eyebrows set on you. “He’s just a kid,” you pleaded, your muscles aching with exhaustion as you climbed away from him. A growl left the lips of your lover, his unbeaten endurance still strong, claws pulling him right towards you and your struggling form.

His hand closed around your ankle, pulling you down until his arms caged you, your back was pressed to his broad chest, hands pinned down by his own, preventing you from using your webs. “All you had to do was listen,” he muttered in your ear, a pained gasp leaving your lips as four sharp prongs sank into your neck, his fangs burying themselves into your skin. Warm liquid flowed from them, eliciting a burning sensation throughout your limbs that slowly turned into numbness.

You could still talk and move, albeit barely, most likely because your husband didn’t want you completely paralyzed, but you couldn’t escape his grasp, his strong arms lifting you until you were slung over his shoulder, lax limbs completely subject to his movements.

“Lyla, send everyone after Miles,” his voice was gruff as he swung off the train, you in one arm, his weight carried by a web in the other, “I’ll handle her.”

———

By the time the paralytic venom wore off, you found yourself at the door of your shared bedroom, Miguel grabbing you from his shoulder and pushing you inside, your legs wobbling slightly from the strange sensation. Shutting it suspiciously lightly, Miguel rested his forehead against the cold panels of the door, your weak legs already positioning you at the other end of the room.

“Miguel, I- I was just trying to help..”

His body went taut at your words, his back rigid, muscles shifting as he turned to look at you. You almost cowered at the sight of him, his eyes a deeper red than you’ve ever seen, his lips pulling back to reply, revealing four-sharp teeth still extended.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his pupils dilating into a deep black, almost consuming his whole iris. “All you needed to do was listen to me, and you went and disobeyed a direct order.”

“You’re my husband, not my master..” you muttered under your breath, his breath catching at your little retort, anger lacing his features. “He’s just a kid, Miguel, you’re being too harsh.”

“Harsh..?” He went still at your words, an exasperated laugh leaving his lips as his eyebrows rose. “I’ll show you harsh,” he said under his breath, shoulders squaring to show his full height, long legs making their way to you in easy strides. Your mouth went dry at his words, feet stepping carefully to back away from him, his approaching steps pushing you further and further until your back hit the wall.

“Miguel wait-” your words were cut off as his large hand closed around your wrist, wrenching you towards the bed, your heels digging into the ground. With a battle of limbs, you found yourself atop his knees, your stomach pressing against his strong legs, his fingers gently caressing your bottom. Your hips wiggled, legs struggling to get away at the implication of his hand. “You can’t run now, cariño,” he growled, sharp claws cutting through the fabric of your suit exposing your ass and legs to his preying eyes.

Long fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your soft skin, fingers tracing every inch, his touch disappearing for a second before returning in the form of a harsh slap, a yelp leaving your lips at the scorching sensation blooming along your bottom.

His hand continued its assault, your legs shaking in his hold. “Poca pucha, just couldn’t listen could you,” he gritted out, palm smacking and smacking relentlessly until your ass was flaming red, choked cries spewing from your lips as you pleaded for him to stop.

He didn’t listen though, every spank leaving a new mark on your skin, red handprints painting your bottom half as your hands clawed at his ankles. “M-Miguel please! I’m s-sorry,” you squirmed, hips bucking until he landed a particularly rough slap against your skin. “Stay still,” he grunted, hands pushing your hips down as he repeatedly spanked you, tears rolling down your cheeks and onto his lap.

You were hiccuping now, so distressed your cries caught in your throat, your bottom raw and red, so sore it stung, the feeling of fire consuming you with even the smallest touch. His hand relented when he heard you muttering ‘i’m sorry’ like a mantra, the rough pads of his fingers gently massaging your inflamed bottom.

Miguel tutted at your soft cries, rubbing your skin as his other hand spread your legs. “Mírate-” he whispered, fingers dipping to scoop up your liquids, spreading your folds, “puta chorrea.” Without any preparation, he stuffed two fingers into your cunt, a choked gasp leaving your lips as he immediately started to curl his fingers into you, throwing you straight into the grasps of pleasure it was almost painful.

His thick fingers nudged at every pleasurable spot inside of you, your walls sucking him in greedily despite your current distaste of your husband. Every curl and poke elicited a whine from you, your body shivering as it neared climax, cunt pulsing around his fingers as a tell tale sign. Before you could release, Miguel pulled his fingers from you, large hands grabbing your waist to throw you on the bed.

You couldn’t even process the loss of pleasure before he was tearing the rest of your suit off and pushing your back into an impossible arch, your inflamed ass stuck in the air as his hands grabbed onto your hips. “Wait Mig-” all air was pushed out of your lungs as he sheathed himself in you with one thrust, the stretch causing a burn to ignite in your cunt.

His palm never left your back as he thrusted in and out at a brutal pace, soft groans leaving his lips, his strong legs slamming into the back of your thighs. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, your mewls and pleas muffled by the pillow Miguel shoved your face into, his fingers cradling the crown of your head to keep you still.

His cock was so thick and long, you felt it hit an unknown area every time he pushed into you, and without normal foreplay, the stretch was insane. Your walls pulsed with the struggle to take him, the ring of muscles at the entrance of your cunt visible as it wrapped around his shaft to suck him in.

Caught up in pleasure himself, Miguel leaned down to cage you in his arms, chest pressed to your back in a primal, animal-like position, his muscled arms placed on both sides of your head, hips never relenting with their intense thrusts.

“Too harsh, arañita?” he whispered into your ear, his teeth pulling at your earlobe, lips sucking at your neck as you trembled beneath him, your voice too hoarse from crying to respond. Heavy balls slapped against your cunt, Miguel’s thrusts becoming harder as you recognized his own tells of an orgasm. His ab muscles rippled against your back, his claws started to emerge, his breathing turned ragged, and he always kissed somewhere on your body, this time being your shoulder.

Groaning into the nook of your shoulder and neck, Miguel released inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting every inch of your cunt, his hips stuttering to push every last drop into you while you tipped over the edge, your climax small and sudden, cunt sucking his juices in as you released your own, clenching around his spent cock.

Catching his breath, Miguel pulled out of you slowly, ears catching the pained whimper you let out, eyes looking down to watch as his white liquid poured from your hole. Your hips slumped and rested against the bed, your face still hidden by the pillow as you caught your breath, exhausted and extremely sore.

It was like he’d been clouded with lust and anger the whole time, because as he looked at your trembling form, the clear feeling of guilt consumed him. As careful as possible, he collected as many soothing ingredients he could find from the bathroom; a cold washcloth, calming lotion, and water all included.

Kneeling on the bed, his hands gently moved to prop your hips up, a choked out ‘no’ leaving your lips, your fear quickly extinguished by his soft, cooed words. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, wiping the washcloth along your irritated folds and your inner thighs, cleaning up any excess liquids. Taking your reddened bottom into his hands, he smoothed and rubbed lotion onto you, the tender skin of your ass slowly becoming soothed by the cool substance.

Kissing up your spine, Miguel stroked your hair, his hand tilting your head to be able to see your face, his heart dropping at the sight of your red eyes, tear stained cheeks, and lack of speaking. “Oh- mi amor..” he murmured, strong arms pulling you onto his chest (careful not to nudge your bottom) as he rubbed your back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips at the feeling.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you,” his voice was filled with regret, leaving a kiss to your head as you hummed your agreement. “I-” he pursed his lips, releasing a sigh as he struggled to say a certain admission, “I may have been a little too harsh on him.”

A breathy laugh resounded against his chest, your hoarse voice a relief to his ears as your tired eyes looked up to meet his own, “you think?”

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ella es mía- she’s mine

cariño- sweetheart

poca pucha- little cunt

mírate- look at you

puta chorrea- fucking dripping

arañita- little spider

mi amor- my love

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #why cant he be real

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gffa · 2 years ago

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Did you know I’ve probably cried like a dozen times from BATFAMILY fic over the last two weeks? I’m not a big cryer, so that’s saying something for me, by which I mean, I realize I have some incredibly intense feelings about fictional characters, but also fandom is phenomenal about hitting those feelings dead on in exactly the way they mean to do. And it’s great, hell yeah make me cry buckets in emotional catharsis!! And then balance it out with comfort or humor because my soul needs soothing, too! I have been reading so many comics lately (so many good comics, what is this, I’m not used to having comics I actually think are good) and I love the canon so very much, but part of the draw towards this fandom has always been the enthusiastic fic response, the willingness to explore things the comics themselves don’t always have time for, whether aftermath of events or psychological effects that aren’t necessarily intended but are fascinating to consider or just straight up downtime that’s not about a case because fic doesn’t need to make people punch things in every issue. The two go hand in hand for me and getting fun comics to read and fun fic to read has been really meaningful to me in a time when I’ve really needed that in my life. I hope that I can return the favor even a little by shoving a bunch of fics at you and only making you scroll a little to get through my Dick Grayson Problem. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ May Our Memories Light The Way by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce, time travel, 1.9k Bruce travels into the past and serves up an apology long over-due. ✦ Late Spring by halyordan, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.5k Dick gets in his first ‘fight’ at school. Luckily, Bruce was an angry boy once. He knows how to deal with it. ✦ the color violet by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & cast, 2.6k The address – 1007 Mountain Drive – told Alex two things: one, their patient was either going to be someone unreasonably wealthy or an unlucky service worker, and two, getting to the actual patient was going to be a bitch. ✦ as i was walkin’ by oh_fudgecakes, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.6k Bored and chased out of the kitchen by an irate Alfred, a young Dick Grayson falls through a loose floorboard while exploring the attic and ends up in an locked storeroom housing an interesting set of journals. ✦ help me fill this hole in my soul by renecdote, dick & bruce & cast, 5.9k Dick nearly drowns on patrol one night. He’s fine, except that he really isn’t. Alfred and Bruce take care of him when he gets sick and let him know that even though his parents are gone he isn’t alone. ✦ medio by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k Loss, again. This loss was by his hand, by his own tongue, with words so sharply edged that they tore apart his mouth and left his lips bloody. The manor was silent, and he was alone. And Alfred’s half birthday was in three days. ✦ My Little Bird (is a Troublemaker) by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 10.9k No, not good enough, thought Bruce as he gripped the boy’s shoulders in his hands. Dick still didn’t move and the man had to resist the violent urge to shake the answer out of him. This wasn’t his little bird. This wasn’t his Robin, he would never do something like this. Dick gets caught drunk, Bruce loses it. ✦ things kept hidden by emavee, dick & bruce & cast, 9.7k “Better hope the Batman doesn’t catch wind of you. Batman hates metas. He’ll make you disappear. That’s what he does.” “But I’d never hurt anyone,” Dick stammers. He doesn’t know very much about Batman, but he’s a hero, right? He fought crime, like Superman, and Superman was a hero. Right? ✦ (Not) Enough by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k After the training simulation goes wrong, Bruce takes his kid home. ✦ i can’t promise (it’s not written in the stars) by konan_konan, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 7.3k Batman is following him, surely, but he’s smaller and faster and he’s not going to let someone take him and lock him up again. Wayne Manor, he’s learned, is just another kind of prison. It may be big and fancy but it is also empty and cold and he’s not going back. Tony Zucco dies tonight, he tells himself. It is the only thing that matters. ✦ what’s needed most by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1k Dick wants to fly. Bruce would like that to not involve giving him a heart attack for once. ✦ two sheep counted, but not enough to sleep by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 1.8k Dick hasn’t been sleeping. It’s a problem Bruce should have addressed by now. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ (At the Very Least), I Can by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, 3k “… something is wrong.” That was Bruce’s voice, he would know it anywhere. OR, Dick Grayson + Full Body Paralysis ✦ Catch by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick, 2k Raptor has Bruce in dire straits. Nightwing catches Bruce as he falls. Then it turns out Bruce never fell at all, he jumped. “Dick. I didn’t fall. I jumped. I jumped because I knew you’d catch me.” Childhood trauma never truly goes away, it seems. OR, the emotional aftermath of “Better than Batman.” ✦ Call Me if You Need Me by LiterallyThePresident, bruce & dick & alfred, 1.1k “Master Bruce is rather distraught, you see.” and now Alfred sounded pained, “The dose he received was not enough to render him immobile, but it is causing some paranoia and unpleasant hallucinations. He… Well, he appears to be rather convinced that something has happened to you.” BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Sons and Fathers by FabulaRasa, dick & bruce & jefferson & dick/babs, 4.9k Dick has three conversations that needed to be had, at the end of season three. This is blatantly a “there I fixed it” fic. ✦ The Best Medicine by JpegDotJpeg, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cass, 2.2k “I’m dying.” “You are not dying.” “This is it. It’s the end for me. I bet I have some exotic viral disease with no known cure and now I’m going to waste away into nothingness.” “I highly doubt that, Master Richard.” ✦ Look to the Stars by Zephyrra, dick & bruce & jason & hal & alfred & cast, lantern!dick, 8.3k After Batman fires Robin for the last time, Dick becomes a Flying Grayson in an entirely new way: by becoming a Green Lantern. But no matter what kind of mask he dons, Dick Grayson has a way of (accidentally) changing history irrevocably. This is only the beginning. ✦ the courage of stars by theragingstorm, dick & clark/lois & jon & cast, 1.8k When he really needs somebody, Dick goes to Metropolis. ✦ a great honour (to hold you up) by dizarys, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 2.6k “For the last time, I’m not getting sick!” Jason and Tim exchanged skeptical looks behind Dick’s back. “You’re pale, shivering, and wince every time your bare skin touches the cold metal desk.” Jason ticked off on grease smeared fingers, “Sounds sick to me.” “Wonderful observations, Holmes.” Dick muttered, still looking through the microscope. “What does Watson have to add?” “That first of all, I’m Sherlock.” said Tim, “And my associate is correct. You should go get some rest.” ✦ i am tired of all these motherfuckin’ bombs on these motherfuckin’ spaceships by konan_konan, dick & bruce & damian & titans & background dick/kory & justice league, 4.5k “Those generators won’t last long,” barks Batman. “We’re losing our window. What other plan do you propose, Nightwing?” He huffs. “I’m gonna blow up the ship.” or: when the justice league gets stranded in space, the teen titans come to the rescue. it doesn’t exactly go to plan. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT HIS SIBLINGS BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY: ✦ abyssal plain by glassofwater, dick & jason, 3.5k “What did you do?” “Exactly what he said. I killed him.” ✦ Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once, tim & jason & cast, 5.5k ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’ ✦ Break the Ice by dizarys, dick & jason, 1.5k He felt the blades pierce his body. It was at the height of his leap, back arched as he sprang backwards over the car. A bolt of searing hot pain shot through his side then thigh. But Nightwing still landed with grace and flung his escrima sticks straight into two gang members’ heads. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Not Quite Saudade by Wisptheraccoon, dick & damian & bruce & jason & tim & alfred & jon, 3.1k Aka. The reason Dick is no longer allowed to leave on long missions without Damian. ✦ Scorpion-grass by Ididloveyou_once, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.9k Damian gets hit with fear toxin and is forced to relive Dick losing his memories… Dick could’ve gone without knowing how the kid reacted to his amnesia. ✦ what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight by theragingstorm, dick & damian & john/mary & cast, time travel, 63.4k wip After an argument with his Batman, Dick Grayson, Damian finds himself in Dick’s past, with one of his greatest tragedies fast approaching and no easy route forward for either. As long as he risks being stuck seventeen years in the past, all he can do is live at the circus, with a family he never knew — and just maybe learn from it all. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ When Wisdom Must Go by AnicomicQueen, bruce & dick & tim, 5.1k Bruce experiences taking his children to get their wisdom teeth removed. Chapter 1: Dick (Age: 17) Chapter 2: Tim (Age: 16) ✦ So you’ll know where I’ve been by victoria_p (musesfool), jason & steph, 2.1k “I just noticed your scars.” “We all have—Oh.” Jason drops his gaze again, runs his fingers along the faded incision on the left side of his chest. “No one else has one of these.” ✦ and when you’re in the trenches by dizarys, jason & tim & dick, 4.3k When Jason stumbles across a shocking discovery, he’s forced to decide how much he truly cares about the people he used to call family. ✦ The Kids Are All Right by Browniesarethebest, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 11.4k Dick and Tim are de-aged. It goes about as well as anyone would expect. ✦ World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph & duke & cast, 7k Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake. BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NOT EVEN CANON WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Not So Large but Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & tim & bruce & alfred, 6.7k Alternate universes suck so much. Tim has always known that, but he’s never really grasped it, not until he and Dick were forcibly thrown into one a week ago. ✦ there’ll always be a few things, maybe several things by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k Tim breaks the silence, half-glancing over his shoulder to murmur, “Pop-culture has taught me that you’re supposed to seek out your parent in the middle of the night. Not your sibling.” “Pop-culture isn’t a perfect teacher, Timmy.” ✦ will we ever get to the other side? by dizarys, dick & tim, 4.8k Blockbuster is dead and Dick is lost. Haunted by that night and no longer Nightwing, he flees Gotham only to find himself back in Bludhaven on mob business. Now Robin is the city’s new protector and Dick is determined to avoid Tim & his old life. That is, until he finds Tim bleeding in an alley. ✦ World Gone MAD by Havendance, dick & tim & justice league, 5.5k Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death, and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League, and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that’s been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer, because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death. ✦ Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.” He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?” – Or, Tim visits Dick in Bludhaven. ✦ unleash the beast (with a kiss on the cheek) by InkpotSprite, dick & tim & bruce & jason & stephanie, 1.3k Dick’s chest tightened as his lips parted to say something that he’d truly regret. Before a soft pair of lips pressed against his cheek, then disappeared so quickly that Dick was almost sure he’d imagined it. If it weren’t for Bruce’s fractionally wide eyes, Dick would think he had. Slowly, he turned his head to the side. Tim smiled back at him. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ cat tactic of healing by CarrionCarnival, tim/kon, 2.1k Kon finds a moderately sick Tim, and decides that it’s his problem to solve. feline style ✦ In the Corner Taking up Space by Louis_the_Snake, tim/kon & cast, NSFW, 5.1k Tim gets roped into doing a simple modeling gig for Wayne Fashion with some of his siblings and realizes that everyone he knows is way hotter than he is. And the hottest thing about him is his ass. Which ends up plastered in every major city in the U.S. ✦ Thief by rotasha, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k Kon walks in on Tim wearing his leather jacket. ✦ only touched you once by distracted_dragon, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k Kon decides to tease Tim a little with his TTK. ✦ Missing Words by Violet_Witch, tim/kon & cassie, 6.9k It takes Tim years to realize what’s always been there. ✦ What’s Real and What Isn’t by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & bart, 2.3k Kon’s eyes almost glow in the dark, a luminescent blue so vivid Tim almost can’t stand looking at them, though he has a harder time trying to look away from them. “I thought you were having a nightmare or something. Your heart was beating so hard it woke me up.” Tim feels himself a flush. He can’t even sleep without bothering someone else. “Oh,” He replies, voice small. “Sorry. I’m fine, you can go back to sleep.” “You’re shaking,” Kon points out and Tim curses internally. ✦ you taught me the courage of stars before you left by popsunner, tim & kon & bruce & damian & lois & jon & cassie & cast, 6k “He loved you, you know,” She says wistfully, meeting his eyes. Tim looks away. “I loved him too.” “Love.” “What?” “Love,” she repeats. “Not loved. He might be gone, but we don’t love him any less.“ BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Arguments with the Recently Deceased by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & clark & tim & cast, 7.9k Dick just got back from a lousy, week-long adventure traveling in time. When his ride drops him off at the cave the morning after he left, Dick isn’t expecting to find Bruce in the middle of a complete meltdown. Dick realizes there’s been a mistake- Dick hasn’t been gone six hours, he’s been gone six months, and everyone thinks he’s dead. ✦ Solar Flares by glassofwater, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 46.1k wip Personhood, noun: the quality or condition of being an individual person. Son, noun: a man regarded as the product of a particular person, influence, or environment. Dick Grayson, noun: oldest son of Bruce Wayne, first son of Batman (i.e., a sum of parts, not a whole) ✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & alfred & cast, 14.3k wip When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much. ✦ Going Nuclear by wrsttballplayer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred, time travel, 15.3k wip Dick looked at his younger self; the way his brow twisted up in so much anger and his was chest heaving with pure vitriol. Dick remembered what fury like that felt like. He remembered the way it burnt in his throat. He used to spew that poison at Bruce all the time, hell even the Titans had gotten the bad end of his temper more than once. And yet, Dick couldn’t place the last time he had been mad like that. Nowadays, all his anger died into withering flames of resignation and compromise more often than not. ✦ Why Is Tim the Only One With Any Tact? by CamsthiSky, dick & tim & wally, 4.1k In which Tim tries to mediate an argument between Dick and Wally. Things don’t go so well. ✦ You Won’t Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k Dick’s captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Hold Me Dear and Close to Your Heart by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, 3.8k Dick Grayson leaves his whole life behind when Bruce Wayne kicks him out. ✦ the flute of your whole existence by LovesFrogs, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, 4.2k He could voice his greatest fears, weaknesses, or most secret dreams at the drop of a hat; all the things he’s never put into words before and keeps tucked close between his ribs. What kind of ammunition is his son going to ask for? What will he make Bruce admit, knowing he is incapable of a lie? ✦ The Kids Are(n’t?) Alright by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & tim & alfred & cast, rape aftermath, 3k Dick saves a young rape victim from his babysitter and in the process reveals his own trauma. The problem? Dick is Batman at the time, and kids are blabber mouths. ✦ Cursed Silence by TheSilencer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & steph & cast, 3.4k Dick Grayson is given a gift - to seal away his emotions. No one has a good time. ✦ Peeking Through the Tunnel Beyond by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, read the tags, 2.4k Or, Dick Grayson just can’t seem to free himself from his past. And this time, Bruce is there. ✦ soft clocks by dustorange, dick & bruce & damian & jason & tim & alfred & tiger & cast, 35.2k Dick has amnesia during his time at Spyral. The family grapples with finding out he’s alive. Dick grapples with finding out he has a family. ✦ Never Say That by JackHawksmoor, bruce & dick & jason & damian & cast, 9.6k "Calm down, I’m not aiming for anything vital,” Jason said irritably. Batman turned away from the man he’d just floored. “We agreed-” he began sharply. “I didn’t promise anything,” Jason snapped. He lifted his gun, muttering under his breath. “You ought to be grateful, it could be worse-” Or: the Bats have an extremely bad night in Gotham City BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SILLY FOR AWHILE: ✦ there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist, hal & dinah & ollie & flash & j'onn & bat-kids & young justice & justice league, 3.7k A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who’s the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points. ✦ The One With The Bat’s Son by Maximum_Quinn, bruce & dick & wally & hal & billy, 3.4k “Batman has seven kids.” Wally blinked. “You’re shitting me.” “Not even a little, I just overheard him and Supes talking.” “Oh my god,” he breathed, staring at Hal incredulously. “You don’t think -?” Hal nodded, slowly and seriously. “Batman could be Captain Marvel’s dad.”

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #conner kent #timkon #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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arrietty-rune · 17 days ago

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Templates made by @itsnotmourn !!

Yeees already V3 version of them (+ ALTs)!! But just some bits changes and new interface because i actually don't like how messy are the others ones ꒰◞‸ ◟꒱💧 So i hope you'll enjoy these better!!

Also yeah these don't have some lore info i did on the others so see below for info of each ♥ (⚠︎ Warning long text) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Luciano:

His blood is in a reddish pink, a raspberry tone, being also the flavor of it.

Past was difficult for him. Strict family, important event: had lack of feelings for a decade, this due to being struck by lightning at 6 years old but recovered slowly at 18.

Doesn't actually know much about his species, this due to his full life among humans. This also meaning he knows little of his magic.

Had no idea about the existence of the Hidden World* until Rósa told about it.

He can be exhausted easily at work, especially when it's about some kids making troubles. But he still likes to help as much he can.

He speaks fluently at Italian, English and Sardinian. Know a little bit of french words and sentences, from the Sterenn sisters but also from memes.

Affiliation with the cult: Has been kidnapped after his work, as to be used as a sacrifice. When Eyes realized his fairy identity, they spared him but instead, they and the cultists are making profit from him. Otherwise, if Luciano doesn't obey, they will use any from his closest friends to be sent as a sacrifice instead. For now, all he does are little harmless tasks, like cleaning rooms and cooking. As being not a cultist, he never saw any of these members without their mask.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Rósa:

Her blood has a light green color, close to a turquoise tone, with a fresh mint flavor.

Chill past, grew up with her sister Maelys and her father, Icarus, being an human.

Her mother died but shares few memories of her, almost blurred.

She spent time mostly on the Hidden World due to magic school stuff. She knows very much her water magic and has learnt other magic stuff.

She knows dark magic and barely used it. Has knowledge of it, as to push it away and/or to annihilate, it with white magic. (note: she can use dark magic by her left hand, white magic by her right one)

As her element being water, she can control blood, only used it once as this being a part of her boundaries.

She's able to see souls and can read them, not perfectly though, but can recognize how people can be good or bad by this.

Other notes: Can work as an exorcist, or a monster hunter, as protecting innocent soul from their attacks.

She does invest a lot in the forest near the town, due to weird magic she can feel her. She tries to prevent people to not get here, but kids never obey. One day, she started a white magic spell on a supposed dead tree, as to revive it and to possibly use it to chase black magic.

However, something was wrong. Very wrong, as she realized she used her left hand on not a tree, but a dead body, starting to move but seeming very weak.

After moments of panic and confusion, she thought of having no choice but hiding them in the forest, then later in her home after the undead person, named Apollo, recovered enough energy. She tries her best to hide his existence toward people, including his sister.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Maelys:

Her blood color is in a light reddish orange, with a peach flavor.

Chill past, grew up with her sister Rósa and her father, Icarus

Her mother died few years after she was born. May was too young to share any memory of her

Spent time mostly among humans, share some part of school years with them

Use her fire magic only for good, never as a weapon. Use a frying pan only to defend her or her closest ones. Also do apologies every time she hit someone with as she hates any form of violence

Can use her hair as a source of light. It has healing powers

Speak fluently French and Breton, her English is good but can do mistakes

Love her breton origins, have a flag on her room with an AroAce one. Doesn't even have a french flag lmao

Other notes: Basically chilling in the town, doesn't get much in troubles. Girl works most of her time in morning, sometimes in the afternoon, but met Miles (Captain) and Mihka (Shotgun man) in the bakery, as them and other cops buying sweets there. She becomes easily friends with them, as the friendly girl she is! She does talk with them while being at work when these two have a break.

Both her and Mihka will develop feelings to each other, but at present, they aren't in relationship yet.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Hidden World* => An unknown place on the Earth, where non-humans lived together, where humans are very rare there! Creatures froms myth and folkores like yokais, vampires, fairies, centaurs, etc live here! Rare humans here are usually affiliated with non-monsters, such like Icarus, the father of Maelys and Rósa.

#spooky month #spooky month oc #long text #long post #──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────#【 ⋆˚✿˖° Blooming tree °˖✿˚⋆ 】#【 ⛧°.⋆🕸 Spooky Art 🕸⋆.°⛧ 】#【 ☾⋆⁺₊✧ My Characters ✧₊⁺⋆☾ 】#【 ✩˚⋆☾⋆⁺☀︎ Sterenn Sisters ☀︎⁺⋆☽⋆˚✩ 】#【 ‧₊˚ ☁️ Character Ref ☁️ ˚₊‧ 】#【 *༄⚡︎★ Luciano Floris ★⚡︎*༄ 】#⚠︎ [Death Mention]#maybe??#if you follow my SM content since a while you probably get who's the undead person hehe

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littlxpxtal · 2 months ago

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Ghost in the Machine

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

You said all of my friends are on my payroll

You're not wrong, you're an asshole

Screaming at you in the Ludlow

I was yours for free

May

“Okay how do I look?” Sabrina walked out of her bathroom in her prom dress, and did a spin.

“You look fucking amazing” I gawked at how well the dress fit her body, she radiated with beauty.

“Okay now you!” She pulled me up from my seat at her vanity and pushed me towards her bathroom.

I unzipped the protective bag that the dress was in, staring at the red fabric. I loved the dress, I truly did, but the color was slightly influenced by Rafe. Tonight would be the first night we would be openly together at a public event. We’ve kept our one month relationship private, opting for nights in instead of the keggers that have been happening, and only letting a few close friends know. There wasn’t any real reason for us to do this, it just felt better to keep things under wraps before graduation.

“C’mon we have pictures to take” Sabrina yelled, banging on the door a few times. I zipped up the dress and took a look in the mirror. Once I was satisfied with the way my hair fell, I opened the door.

We all piled into the back of Kelce’s Hummer, passing around a bottle of shitty K, trying to get as much down as possible before we entered the venue.

Rafe wrapped his arms tightly around me as I sat on his lap. He kissed the back of my shoulder and rubbed his fingers on my arm.

”You know we can leave whenever you want” he murmered against my skin.

“You’re just saying that to get out of slow dancing” I could feel his lips curl up into a smile on my skin.

”Not-uh” he mumbled.

“Alright is everyone ready?” Kelce called out. Everyone quickly took one last chug of the bottle before stumbling out of the car.

Rafe’s hands were glued to me the minute we stepped inside the venue. I was slightly shook, due to the fact that he’s never had a public girlfriend. Leaving with a girl was no question, but showing up with one? That’s another story.

As we walked through the doors, we exchanged a glance, and he gave me a soft smile, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

My face felt warm from the alcohol rushing through my veins, and I felt a spur of courage to grab Rafe and drag him to the dance floor. He chuckled behind me, following closely as we made our way to the middle of the floor.

The rest of the night seemed to go as smooth as possible, Rafe showing the entire school a new side of him, with how sweetly he stuck to my side all night, dancing the night away.

Unfortunately, we didn’t make it the whole night without a hiccup. I walked out from the bathroom after taking a quick shot from the flask that Sabrina snuck in, we ran into Noah and his friends, probably doing the same thing in the men’s room.

They stumbled out, laughing and snorting under their breaths, trailing behind us. I straightened up my posture and tried to make my strides as quick as possible in my gown.

“How many pills did rafe cameron pop to be caught seen with a pogue lover do ya think?” I heard one of the losers behind me say. I scoff under my breath, and Sabrina reaches over and squeezes my hand.

“yo Y/N, you got some dirt on Cameron?” Noah shouts at me. I keep my head straight but notice that Sabrina cocks her head back, probably making a face.

“I asked you a fucking question” he grunts. I huff out in response and stop in my tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish by constantly harassing me, but the joke isn’t funny and will never be funny,” a rounds of ooo’s comes from some surrounding people as we stand outside of the entrance way.

“I’m just saying, there’s no way YOU can be here with rafe unless you had some serious blackmail material, or he’s so fucked up out of is mind he doesn’t even realize it’s you.” His friends laugh at him and I feel my face faulter for a second, my chest beginning to pound. I don’t say anything in response, I just stare at him, with rage.

“I’m just telling the truth. That guy does NOT like you.”

Sabrina and I scoff in unison and I roll my eyes.

“I don’t know where you got that from but aren’t you here alone? So why are you speaking?” Sabrina pipes in, still holding my hand.

Noah doesn’t acknowledge her, his eyes burning a hole into my soul. A shiver runs up my spin and I break out into a cold sweat. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

“Have you ever thought about who told me you slept with JJ, Y/N?” He says with an evil smirk. My mouth opens to respond, but I shut it again, scared of what he was going to say next.

“Rafe went out of his way to let me know that you’re a pogue fucker, didya know that?”

My heart sunk and my free hand balled into a fist.

“He wouldn’t do that”

“Who else would?” He spits back. His friends pat his back and they all usher into the ballroom and I slowly turn to Sabrina.

“I doubt that’s true” she whispers. “Like seriously don’t listen to that guy”

“Sabrina, he has a point. Rafe and I had this ongoing fight for a while because he was convinced I slept with JJ. It all started last summer, and he was really upset about it. I really didn’t think about it until now, as to why Noah would accuse me of sleeping with pogues, especially JJ…. But”

“Well let’s go ask him.” She says, pulling me back into the ballroom and directly towards our group of friends, We Make our way through the crowd, but before we can reach them, the class president steps infront of us.

“Sabrina, we need you onstage, they’re about to announce Prom King & Queen.”

”Oh shit I forgot. Are you gonna be okay?” She turns to me. I give her a soft smile and a hug.

“I’ll be okay. You go win that crown mama.” She gives me a tight squeeze, and Topper walks up to us, leading her to the stage. I turn and see Rafe a few feet away.

“What’s up with you?” His pupils are blown out, his tie undone and collar unbuttoned. I hated to say it, but he looked delicious. And coked out.

“Did you say anything to Noah. About.”I stammered on my words. It was a sensitive topic, and I didn’t want to believe he would do it, and I knew the mention of J’s name would set him off.

“Say anything to Noah about what?” His eyebrow cocks and he leans closer to my face.

Before I can speak, the stage lights up with spotlights on the prom court students,and the class president speaks through the microphone.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight, we hope you’ve had a spectacular night!” The crowd erupts into cheers and I walk closer to the front of the room, Rafe trailing behind me.

“Do you have my” I turn to look at him and he hands my purse to me.

“Thanks” I mumble. When I finally get to a good spot, rafe stands behind me, his hands on my hips.

“Say anything to Noah about what” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot on my neck. He places a peck behind my ear.

”And your prom king is TOPPER THORNTON” Rafe releases his grip from my hips to clap and shout up at the stage. I clap in response, my eyes focused on Sabrina. I give her a thumbs up and she smiles down at me.

“Y/N” Rafe says into my ear again as the crowd dies down.

“He said you told him that me and JJ-“ I didnt get to finish before the announcer started speaking again.

“And your prom queen is SABRINA CARTER”

I jump up and down, cheering as loudly as I can. I pull my phone out to take pictures and record her getting her crown placed on her. Her smile gleams across the room, and I watch as Topper embraces her in a hug. They whisper something to each other and I almost feel like i Could cry.

”Y/N, he said what about JJ?” Rafe interrupts my focus and I turn to look at him. Everyone steps off the stage, and a slow song begins to play. He wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me close to his chest with a slight force.

“He said you are the one who told him we fucked.” His back straightened, his jaw clenched.

“Why were you talking to him in the first place?”

”Does it matter?” He rolls his eyes and huffs.

“Don’t know what that fool is talking about.”

”Then why would he say it?”

”Probaly because he’s jealous.”

“That doenst make any sense. Hes the one who stood me up. Someone had to have told him that about me, he wouldn’t just make it up.”

”Do you think you’re invisible? You don’t think people knew who you were running around with before you became a kook again?” His tone gets even more serious. It’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“It didnt seem to matter when I first started hanging out with anyone.”

“That’s because everyone kept their mouth shut around you. Doesn’t mean people don’t talk.”

”So people talk about me?”

”They talk abot everyone.”

“Is that supposed to ask me feel better?” He turns his head to break eye contact for the first time.

“Rafe.” I say sternly.

“What?” He grunts.

“Who told him I slept with JJ?”

“It probably just came up in conversation.” He says, still looking around.

“That doesn’t make any sense. He was fine with me earlier that day, and then just randomly ghosted me. Someone went out of their way to tell him before our date.”

He lets go of my waist and starts to walk away.

“Are you fucking - Rafe” I call after him, trying to catch up in my heels.

“Yo we’re getting the fuck out of here” I hear topper say to rafe when he reaches our table.

“Sounds good” he says, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Rafe Cameron” I call out to him. A few heads turn in our direction, and I look down. He doesn’t stop, he just keeps going. I follow him outside to the car.

”Rafe, you can’t run away forever.”

”My god Y/N, would you knock it off Jesus” he lights a cigarette and turns away from me.

“You’re saying you didnt tell him, yet you’re acting real fucking suspicious here.” He take a long drag, and blows it out, slowly turning towards me.

“Can we not drop this?” He says under his breath.

“Drop it? DROP IT? Cameron are you fucking serious.”

As if on cue, Noah and his friends walk towards their car, in the spot right across from ours.

”Well well well” he calls out, striding towards us. “Did you guys kiss and make up yet?”

Rafe groans and leans against the car. I hear Sabrina and topper a few feet away walking towards us.

“Noah, tell me what happened because Rafe wont tell me.” I cross my arms and realize im shaking.

“Well, after school on Valentine’s Day, you’re little boyfriend over here came up to me and let me know you weren’t actually available, and that you were a tainted little girl who likes to fuck pogues. Especially JJ. I had my suspicions about you, but this man right here cleared them up.” He reaches out to pat rafe on the shoulder and he pushes his arm away aggressively.

“Shut the fuck up man, and im not her fucking boyfriend.”

I hear Sabrina gasp behind me before I can even register what he just said. Noah lets out a chuckle

”So what are you guys?” Hes trying to provoke rafe at this point. Tears start to stream down my face, and I feel Sabrina’s hand on my shoulder.

”Y/N” she says softly. I shrug her hand off “No, I wanna hear what he has to say.”

“It’s fucking complicated man, can you just mind your own fucking business alright? You’ve said enough. Get the fuck away from us” his voice starts to raise and Noah laughs again, putting his hands up in defense.

“Y’all have a good night” he says with a smirk.

”Complicated? Fucking seriously that’s your answer?” I walk to stand in front of rafe and he flicks his cig down stomping on it.

“The fuck did you want me to say y/n?”

”You know what rafe. I’ll make it less fucking complicated for you, okay? We aren’t ANYTHING. We’re fucking done.”

His eyes are staring down at the ground and I let out a laugh.

“Fuck you” I whisper at him and start to walk off.

”Y/N” Sabrina calls out after me.

”I’m calling the pogues I love to fuck to come get me. Don’t worry about me!” I shout back at them as I walk back to the event center.

”let her go” I hear topper say to Sabrina.

I pull out my phone and through my blurry eyes, I call the first people I could think of. He answers on the first ring.

“Jay, can you come get me?”

”You look like a fuckin kook” he grumbles when I get into the Twinkie. Kiara is in the passenger seat, and pope in the back with me.

“Never doing anything like that again” I grumble. “Anyone got a drink?”

Kiara passes me back a bottle in a brown bag.

“You sure you wanna slum it with us lookin all pretty like that?” Kie asks.

“‘M fucking sure”

After a few moments of us just listening to Noah Kahan in the car, JJ breaks the silence.

“Soooo what happened?” Take another gulp of the bottle, clutching it to my chest.

“Rafe” I whisper. They all nod in understanding. “And I don’t end to hear I told you so, because I already know. “

“Graduations next week right?” Pope asks.

i nod my head weakly and pass him the bottle. He takes a sip and starts to cough. Kie and JJ laugh at him and that makes me crack a smile.

“Well tha means you wont have to see any of those fucks ever again right?” I blink hard a few times and then a full smile blooms on my face.

“Then im fucking free.” JJ cheers and Kiara blasts the music up.

”SHES ALMOST FREE” they yell, lowering the windows down.

”Can we go to the beach?’

”anything for you kook princess”

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333 @tomholland792

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quibbs126 · 11 months ago

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So I’ve been making this

So basically last night, I was listening to some music, specifically Not Gonna Die by Skillet, more specifically a version on YouTube with the intro (because I’m not the biggest fan of Good to be Alive where the intro actually is). Anyways, when it’s night, my imagination tends to be more active and I tend to have more energy. While listening to the song, I eventually got this mental image in my mind of this scene with Dark Choco, and the more it crystallized the more I wanted to draw it. I was going to go to sleep and maybe do it in the morning, but I realized that I probably would forget the vibe and not have as much energy, so instead I decided to power through and draw the idea

It was a bit difficult since I had limited references for the pose I wanted, and I suppose I can admit the sword looks a bit off anatomically, but it looks good enough I think, and lets me keep the eyes revealed

I did eventually have to stop drawing, because my iPad had been worked all the way down to 4% (and it was at 30% when I started, the poor thing), not to mention it was around 11:30 already which is pretty late for me, and my earbuds had been running nonstop for over 2 hours (yes I was listening to the same song, it’s how I keep the vibe). I was at least able to get the pose, base colors and lineart done, and I’m still pretty proud of where I left things last night

Today was mostly just doing the background and lighting, which admittedly I may have fumbled. I’m not very good at backgrounds and I didn’t know how to draw lightning. I tried my best, but honestly I don’t think I got the image in my head. Didn’t help that my brain was playing the wrong Skillet song this morning

Oh yeah and by the way, the background is supposed to be from this. That’s what I used as reference

The lightning both feels like too much and too little. Like, it’s crowding the picture, and I can’t have more because it’d be way too crowded with it, but also at the same time, it doesn’t feel like enough, like there isn’t as much power as I wanted

Actually wait, maybe I can add some small particle effects to like, enhance the lightning feel. That was in the original sketch but I omitted it in the final. If you see one with that, you know I did that

Edit: I did indeed do that

To be fair though, I don’t think I have the art skill to properly convey the image in my head. Basically the scene is that Dark Choco is using absolutely every amount of his power for this final swing down, so much that it’s too powerful and the Strawberry Jam Sword completely shatters. But also it’s too powerful that Dark Choco’s body simply can’t handle it, and he basically ends up exploding. The scene depicted would be the wind up to that final swing that destroys the both of them

This isn’t necessarily the first time I’ve come up with this scenario, and the setup would basically be that he turned on the Cookies of Darkness slightly earlier, because he didn’t want to destroy his homeland again, and he tried to get rid of them while in the kingdom but not yet at the Citadel, but he ended up failing, so with nothing to lose, he chases after them and decides to put everything into destroying them, even if it likely ends in his death. After this he probably killed Pomegranate and crippled Licorice in some way (I don’t think he’d attack Poison Mushroom), so his final act did have some effect, but he’s still dead by the end of it. And he and his father never got the chance to properly reconcile because Dark Choco thought that could never be a possibility anymore and he had resigned himself to his fate

But yeah, I just don’t know how to convey that sheer overwhelming power and emotion that this scenario suggests. I tried my best though

I also want to submit this to the Dark Cacao Forever contest, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough for it. What do you think?

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark choco cookie #my art #I really did try hard and this and it does look better than most of my others #but I don’t know if it’s really that good or anything

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marigoldbaker · 2 months ago

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life's a bitch and then you keep living

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it.

title from my beloved bojack horseman.

this fic possessed me when i was reading a different fanfiction that ended with one of those like -- one character dies and their immortal romantic partner decides to die along with them -- and it made my brain feel so many complicated feelings that i decided to excise them through this and didn't sleep until i was done. i am never done with my forevergirl. <3

i'm adding it under the cut because ao3 is going to be down for a few hours and i feel like posting my first jenny calendar fic in almost a year and then ao3 is inaccessible is uhhhh a little evil lol. trying to be nice to any existing jenny audience i may have...

She’s not graceful about it. That’s what’s really fucked. Probably, if it had been him, he’d have had some sort of romantic, Byronic spiraling-out, never loved again, burned everything down trying to avenge her, something like that. Him and his big fucking feelings that she never completely knew what to do with, never knew how to look directly in the eye, had to look away from when she admitted to her own.

They weren’t really anything. They didn’t have time to be.

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it. She came expecting worse, so maybe that’s her grieving, wanting to feel it—wanting to feel more of that clawing, awful horror instead of clawing, awful nothing. He made her feel things. Her life was colorlessly superficial and he was a fucking Monet, full of soft, bright, out-of-focus-but-it’s-all-right sentimentality, and now he’s gone, so she can just go back to being a burnout failure of a comp sci teacher who never did anything truly worthwhile with her life. She could have had a destiny, a purpose, something, and she let that purpose kill him, because she wouldn’t commit to feeling it.

Vengeance. Love. Anything. She wouldn’t commit. She wouldn’t throw out that old blood, but she wouldn’t throw herself in with it, either. He’d chosen, at least, in the end—he’d dug his heels in and stuck to what he’d been before her, and if she’d done the same, there’s a sliver of a chance he’d still be here, sending her cold looks in the hallways. Reminding her that—well—maybe it would have been the wrong choice, but it would have been a choice. That would have been something.

She examines the blossom of a bruise on her cheek. Purple and red. Two of her favorite colors.

~~~~

So here’s a not-choice of a choice: she’s still teaching. You’d think she’d leave, or stay, or do something: this is neither. She stays where she is. She’ll freeze herself in amber, be that not-a-person that he fell in love with, that fictitious and beautiful woman who really wasn’t anything but what he wanted her to be. She’s Jenny Calendar. She teaches computer science at the local high school. She smiles only sometimes, jokes with the faculty, encourages the kids to be the best and brightest, and when blood gets on her shoes, she smiles like a fucking Stepford wife, because that’s what you do in a town like this when you’re not one of the people who knows how to fix it. Of course there are the people who sob and cry and try to change things, but she’s not one of those people anymore. Those are the people who get killed.

Willow drops her class. The kids huddle in the library still like they’re chasing a ghost, waiting for him to step out from the stacks, translucent, clinging to his job and his responsibilities even in death. He fucking would. She’d go in there and wait too if she thought he’d have anything to say to her.

When she dreams of him, it’s never the good shit, like when she talked him into driving down to the beach with her on a school day, wore a skimpy-but-tasteful bikini under her work blouse and flowing skirt, got to hear his indignant Jenny when he realized she’d been planning for this and hadn’t bothered to so much as pack him some swim trunks. She dreams about roses and roses and blood and roses and blood and the way the candlelight glinted off his glasses, glinted in his empty eyes.

She wonders if he’d have been fooled—if it had been her on the bed. He was always such a fucking romantic. She knew the goddamn second she walked in. Felt it in the air. When he was romantic, there was always an undertone of goofy excitement to it—he couldn’t pull off sensual operatic bullshit, not unironically. He wouldn’t have even tried for it. He’d have talked himself out of it in the first few seconds, convinced she’d have laughed him out of California, and god, maybe he’d have been right; she was such a fucking bitch.

When he was romantic, you felt it right down into your bone marrow, because it wasn’t the kind of bullshit you got from guys who thought they were being smooth and were really just assholes. He said the kind of things that knights said to princesses, and he’d say it right after Jenny had just gotten done making fun of his tie, but it only happened once or twice without him stammering too much to get the words out. She’d wait, though. She always waited for him to finish. Sometimes the bell rang before he could, before they’d kiss, and she’d linger in the hallway, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Never doing anything. Never doing anything right by him.

~~~~

When the new Watcher comes to the library and she sees him with his fucking tweed suit and his fucking round glasses and his fucking British accent, too young to die like her heart, why do they keep sending fucking kids to this fucking death trap of a nightmare of a town—she corners him in the faculty room, shoves him up against the wall, says, “You leave, you son of a bitch. You leave. You are not him. If he died, you’re not gonna last a fucking week, and if you last longer than that, I will kill you myself,” and it’s only because Snyder doesn’t give a shit about anything and she’s passing the athletics team like he asked that she doesn’t get some sort of disciplinary write-up.

Buffy comes in the next day and stands in her doorway like a ghost. Staring. Jenny says, “Fuck you,” and shuts the door in her face, which isn’t exactly the kind of blank you-can-kill-me-if-you-want impartiality she was going for, but what the fuck ever. Everything is ruined forever. The love of her life is dead.

~~~~

The Watcher keeps living. Buffy kills Angel or Angelus or something; Jenny doesn’t care. She remembers the floppy disk almost three months after Rupert’s death and goes down to that old mansion with it, sits outside—they’ve all cleared out, of course, or maybe Buffy’s killed them, or maybe they’re still there and they’ll kill her. Jenny doesn’t care.

She says to the empty air, “Well, I guess you got what you wanted after all, you sick fucking asshole,” and then she breaks the floppy disk in half. She doesn’t give a shit what anyone wants anymore. Not her family, not Buffy, not anyone. Who the fuck cares about the philosophical implications of Angel and Angelus? Rupert is dead. That’s it. End of fucking sentence.

Someone sits down next to her, light as a ghost. She doesn’t turn to look. It could be a vampire, it could be Buffy, it could be someone else, but whoever it is, it doesn’t matter, because the moment she says anything to them, that’s something unfurling within her, towards change, and she won’t let it. She’s Jenny Calendar, hollow girl. She is completely untouchable. And Rupert Giles is dead.

The someone who’s next to her says, “Not the sort of town you want to be alone in.”

Jenny doesn’t answer.

“I loved him too,” says the man. “Just so you know.”

So then she does know who it is, a little. Lets her head fall against his shoulder, a little. He’s about as important as she is around these parts, which means he’ll be gone by the morning. That’s the way it works when you love Rupert. He’s the sun and you’re the earth and the minute he’s gone—

“The Mayor hired me to drug every adult in town with enchanted candy in a few months’ time,” says the man whose voice she really does remember. “I’m staying here until then. Hidden from the eyes of the Slayer, of course.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” says Jenny.

“I’m inviting you to stay,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” she says. “You’re just not. I’m not helping you with shit. I’m done being something important. I am just fucking done, Ethan.”

Ethan’s quiet for a moment. “Then why are you still here?”

Because death is action and life is inaction and Jenny, demonstrably, is a woman of inaction. Jenny, if she takes an action now, will have taken one too late to save Rupert. Jenny, if she had taken an action then, could have saved Rupert, could have fucking done something, and refuses to grow into or past the version of herself that let Rupert die. She will not become someone who could have saved his life.

“I think you two would have been very happy together,” says Ethan. There’s a derisive edge to it. “You have the same goddamn martyr complex. The same sort of insufferable refusal to change when faced with the inevitable unpredictability of the world that we live in.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Jenny. “You’re still sitting out here with me. You think you’re any better?”

“I don’t need to be,” says Ethan. “He’s dead.”

He gets it, Jenny thinks.

~~~~

Five months later, there’s a bunch of candy, inexplicably, in the area. Jenny picks up a bar and takes a bite and suddenly she’s hacked off all her hair, set a cop car on fire, and doubled over in the Sunnydale High parking lot, crying so hard, so, so hard, crying like she hasn’t cried since she was sixteen years old, so hard she’s going to throw up, thinking about what it would have been like if Rupert were here right now.

She wakes up the next morning and books an appointment at the salon. Evens it out.

~~~~

Five months after that, Buffy and her friends are in college across town, and Jenny’s teaching a new group of kids, and it’s all really starting to blur into a comforting haze of nothing, an endless blur of gray. Whatever she was before, whatever she could have been, she’s Jenny now, the masquerade mask of a woman with nothing behind her eyes, beguiling and bewitching and empty inside. A lie made up to hold something real.

The real girl is dead.

~~~~

Five months after that—

~~~~

It’s printed on the list of new students for the new semester. Intro to Comp Sci. Dawn Summers.

Somehow Jenny does not feel equipped for this. At all. Dawn is Buffy’s little sister. They haven’t met before now, mostly because Dawn was—was—her mind skips like a record playing wrong—because Dawn was too young at the time to be involved in much of anything, so Dawn’s impression of Jenny has to have been through secondhand information provided by Buffy.

Computer Science is not a mandatory class. Dawn could have very easily chosen not to sign up for this. Dawn very much has.

Jenny feels—

Feels—

That is what is wrong with the sentence; the rest does not need to be finished. Jenny feels. It’s been nothing for years and now it’s—something. Curiosity? Apprehension? She sits down at her desk and stares at the printed letters, trying to will them into a name that doesn’t matter. Sure that, somehow, she can do it.

~~~~

Dawn is a model student. Jenny compares her obsessively and repeatedly to Buffy, but also to Willow; she has aspects of both. She steels herself for Summers antipathy, a hand across the face, but Dawn treats her as though they’ve never met before, and somehow that hurts too—imagining her scrubbed from the lives of these children like she’s nothing. Never mind that she stepped away and did it first. Rupert mattered. Rupert changed the fabric of everything, and Jenny loved him. Failed him. She’d thought at least—

She’d thought at least that would mean something.

Dawn turns in her first assignment. It’s close to perfect without being Willow-levels of meticulous and slightly obsessive prodigy, which means that Willow isn’t helping her. She’s doing this herself. Jenny wants to ask why. She can’t ask why. She wants to ask why. It’s just not an option.

Dawn misses school every so often. No explanation. The fifth time this happens, she comes up to Jenny’s desk after class, which freezes Jenny’s goodbye-everyone smile in rictus. But Dawn’s only ever seen her tense and strange, so, luckily enough, Dawn doesn’t seem to really notice exactly how tense and strange Jenny is right now.

“Ms. Calendar?” she asks. Her face is blank, open, sweet—nothing but a teenage girl. “Do you have a minute?”

Jenny throws herself bodily into that shell of a mask of a woman and says, “Yeah, sure, Dawn. What’s up?”

“It’s just.” Dawn wavers. “You’ve kind of excused my absences every time without even asking that I make up work? I was looking at my grades when they came in, and I thought they’d be way, way lower, which I was totally okay with. Sorta thought you were the kind of teacher who doesn’t give the opportunity to do catch-up assignments, and I was a little too nervous to ask, ‘cause you always seem a little strung-out. Not in a bad way!” she hastily adds. “Just…I don’t know, I didn’t want to bother you? Especially after being gone as much as I am. But I got my grades, and it doesn’t look like you marked any of my missing assignments. Pretty much gave me perfect scores. So I was just wondering—”

“You were wondering why,” Jenny finishes.

Dawn smiles gratefully. It’s the kind of smile Buffy used to give Rupert. It claws a hole into Jenny’s chest and starts ripping her open, slowly, vivisecting her at her stupid fucking meaningless desk.

“Pretty much!” she says.

Jenny says, “I had your sister in my class.” That’s about all she can manage.

“…Oh,” says Dawn. She looks a little bemused. “Huh. You know, that’s not usually the response to Buffy.”

Yeah, well. Buffy doesn’t go around punching just any teacher in the face, kid. But Jenny can’t exactly say that to Dawn.

“She never mentioned you,” says Dawn. “Were you…did you guys get along?”

Jenny’s hand flickers to her throat. One of the other dreams she has, a lot, is one where Buffy kills her—on the desk, at the funeral, at school, on the sidewalk, like she’s an animal, like she’s an evil thing. Those are the dreams that hurt the least.

“Okay,” says Dawn. “Well. Uh. Cool talk, I guess?” She’s doing that Buffy thing, where she smiles with bemused annoyance, bouncing on the balls of her feet, puzzled-but-she-thinks-it’s-funny. Sisters. Jenny sees it every day. “And thanks for the grades, but you really don’t have to—”

“Yes,” says Jenny. “I do.”

There’s something too much about the intensity in her voice. She knows that the second she speaks. Dawn pulls back a little, still smiling, but now there’s a bit of Willow to her—that mystery-solving curiosity. That determination.

Jenny decides to let her try. Death is action. Life is inaction.

~~~~

The next day, Dawn is at her desk again. She doesn’t look ready to kill Jenny, but she does look a little miffed.

“So you do know Buffy,” she says.

“What did Buffy tell you?”

“Uh, literally nothing. Do you have siblings?”

Jenny has a hundred family ghosts on her shoulder and her dead parents are two of them. She might not have been an only child if things were different. They’re not.

Dawn seems to take her silence for the answer it is. “Well. All Buffy said to me when I asked her was leave it alone, Dawn, which is literally so-o Buffy of her, like, can you even believe? I mean, what am I supposed to do, just—”

“Leave it alone?” Jenny dryly suggests.

“Come on,” says Dawn. “I’m not doing that.”

She sees her, for a second. Buffy. Standing in front of her desk, smiling sharply, that other ghost girl she failed—sunlight and bubblegum, bruised by the world but still so hopeful. Thrumming with joy and possibility. Twirling her hair over Angel because no one told her not to do it, or maybe because everyone told her not to do it, or maybe—possibly—because sometimes loving someone makes you forget what’s smart and what’s safe.

Jenny sits up a little. She says, “Your sister decked me in the face at her Watcher’s funeral. You want to find out more? Ask her about that.”

And credit where credit is due—Dawn doesn’t flinch back with oh-my-gosh teenage horror. She tilts her head just a little, eyes narrowing with that Summers spirit, and smiles almost appreciatively.

“Thanks, Ms. C,” she says. “I owe you one.”

~~~~

Buffy shows up at Jenny’s house after hours. Without preamble, she says, “Stay away from my sister.”

Jenny says nothing. Waits for the blow.

Buffy turns on her heel and storms away. Jenny watches her, curiously, and wonders if Buffy knows that she holds no power over a woman who dreams of what it would be like for the Vampire Slayer’s hands to close around her throat again. Buffy kills monsters. That’s what she does.

~~~~

Of course Dawn shows up at Jenny’s desk again after class, and this time, when she does, Jenny actually smiles. It feels strange on her face—a smile in a way that doesn’t hurt. It makes her think about how much everything else does, all the time.

Dawn sits down on the edge of the desk and says, gleefully, “Buffy got so mad.”

“Yeah,” says Jenny. “I bet.”

“She’s totally not going to tell me,” says Dawn, “but I asked, so now you totally have to. Why’d she punch you in the face?”

Jenny takes out her wallet. Takes out the folded-over ticket stubs: Admit Two for a monster truck rally from 1997. “Give her these,” she says. “Tell her where I was keeping them. See what happens.”

~~~~

And honestly, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen. She’s hoping Buffy kills her.

But Buffy doesn’t come at all that night.

~~~~

This time, Dawn doesn’t bounce up to her desk. She places the ticket stubs back down in front of Jenny a little shakily, mouth trembling.

“She cried all night,” she says. “This isn’t fun anymore. I don’t want to know.”

Jenny picks up the ticket stubs and puts them back in her wallet. Rummages in her desk drawer, instead, until she finds the thing that she can’t look at anymore. Hands it to Dawn.

Dawn stares at it for a very long time. The tremor in her hand increases. She lets the photo strip flutter back down onto the desk, on top of the ticket stubs: Jenny and Rupert tangled up in the tiny booth, laughing. Jenny’s lipstick is all over Rupert’s face. He’s too big to fit in the booth and she’s mostly on his lap. They’re luminous.

“That’s—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

“So you’re—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

Dawn sits down on the edge of Jenny’s desk. Her eyes are a little wet. She doesn’t say anything, just picks up the photo again, staring intensely at it like she’s trying to burn it into her eyes.

Jenny says, “He was the love of my life.”

Almost two seconds later, Dawn says, “My mom’s in the hospital.”

Jenny holds out her hand, palm-up. Dawn takes it.

~~~~

Buffy’s on her door again that night. She’s hammering hard on the wood. Jenny gets up, opens the door, and Buffy says, desperately, tearfully, “I’m sor—”

Which isn’t what she’s fucking supposed to do. So Jenny shuts the door in her face.

~~~~

Dawn doesn’t come up to Jenny’s desk after class. She comes in at lunch instead. Jenny asks, “Don’t you have friends?” and Dawn just sort of laughs wetly and offers her a carrot stick, which is a hell of a lot better than Jenny’s current lunch of choice, which is whatever she wants from the vending machine, because she doesn’t eat lunch anymore. Rupert had been making hers before Angelus snapped his neck and killed them both.

They eat in silence until about five minutes before they’re supposed to go, when Jenny says, “I don’t want to be in a world where he isn’t.”

“Yeah, but you are,” says Dawn. “And the thing is, you kind of have to be. I mean, if my mom dies, I know she’d lose it finding out I died too, and then you gotta deal with all that junk in heaven when you’re supposed to be having fun with the angels. You really want your first moments with Giles again to be all about him telling you how mad he is you didn’t do a good job at living without him?”

Which makes Jenny laugh so hard she chokes on a carrot stick. Lucky thing. She can say the tears are from that.

~~~~

Dawn comes with two lunches the next day. “Nobody ever sees you eat,” she says, and Jenny’s about to turn it down when she realizes it’s actually just greasy fast food in a deceptive paper bag.

“Oh, what the heck, Buffy?” Dawn demands. “Come on! She never lets me just have a burger and fries for lunch?!”

“I can’t take this,” says Jenny immediately.

“What?” Dawn groans. “Oh, man. Look, she gave me the lunch because I asked for an extra one.Does that make it better? Does that make whatever weird thing you guys have okay?”

“We don’t have—” Jenny stiffens defensively.

“Just eat the friggin’ burger,” says Dawn.

Jenny eats the friggin’ burger. Grudgingly.

~~~~

Buffy comes in at Parent-Teacher Night. Her eyes are a little sunken; she looks older and more tired than Jenny remembers. Nothing even half as luminous as her sister, who’s chattering away in that nervous Summers-babble style where she’s trying to make sure everyone’s just talking about computers. She’s in the middle of some tangent about programming that makes it very clear she has no idea what’s going on in class when Buffy says, “Are you even washing your hair?”

“You sound like Cordelia,” says Jenny. Her mouth twitches. “Are you two still friends?”

“We weren’t friends before.”

“Excuse me for not keeping up with the intricacies of your high school social life,” says Jenny, brows raised. “I was a little busy—”

“Busy doing what?” says Buffy. “Stepford-wifing it up? You were goddamn creepy all through senior year. We kept on trying to talk to you and you’d just look through us.”

Jenny doesn’t actually remember any of that. She doesn’t really feel like arguing the point. “Get me a better shampoo, then,” she says. “Slay the monster that is my greasy and terrible hair.”

“Take better care of yourself,” says Buffy.

Why do you even care, Jenny wants to say, but some small part of her really does know why. It’s awful, the knowing.

“…does anyone want to see my program?” Dawn asks, a little hysterically.

Something occurs to Jenny. “Where’s Joyce?”

Buffy sort of smiles. It’s the kind of smile that hurts; Jenny can see the hurt in her shoulders and her hands. “Mom’s…not doing well,” she says. “But she’ll be better. We think.”

Fucking goddamn it, Jenny does feel something, thinking about Buffy losing Joyce on top of Rupert. How the fuck is that fair? She can’t get punched in the face and fix it. She can’t take the hit and be the villain, the problem, the thing Buffy could have killed to keep the right person alive. She can just sit here, mostly a stranger, basically nothing, and try to think of something to say that isn’t—

“Fuck that,” she says. It sounds—real. “Fucking absolute goddamn bullshit. As though you haven’t been through enough! Both of you! Living here! Why don’t you just pick up your sister, take your mom to an LA hospital—I have a credit card,” she’s rummaging in her purse, “take my goddamn credit card, go start just buying shit—”

“Ooh, absolutely!” says Dawn.

“Dawn, don’t,” says Buffy, blocking her sister’s hand. “We don’t take credit cards from people having a mental health crisis.”

“It’s not a mental health crisis, it’s a state of being,” Jenny corrects her.

“It’s not a state of being, it’s the worst hair I’ve ever seen,” Buffy counters.

“This is fun,” says Dawn. “I want to take Buffy to talk to my science teacher now.”

“Not everyone’s Ms. Calendar,” says Buffy. “Ms. Calendar has emotional problems.”

“God, you are a bitch now that you’re not in high school,” Jenny observes, which makes Buffy actually laugh. A real one. It doesn’t match her eyes or the tightness in her mouth, but—it sounds like that bubblegum girl.

~~~~

Jenny casts the bones and reads the cards and prays for a miracle when they all say the same thing: death, death, death, death, death. She whispers it into the wind: please, if it’s a punishment for my inaction, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, I’ll be better, if those girls get to keep their mom. Please, whoever’s listening, it’s worth losing him if those girls get to keep their mom. They’re young enough. They’ve lost enough. I’ll do anything. I will be anything. I will drown myself in blood, I will give myself to Hecate, I will bring back any monster, make myself the monster, just so long as—

~~~~

And of course prayer does fuck-all and Dawn breaks down in a class that isn’t hers. Art class. As though Jenny didn’t have enough bad blood with the art department. She finds out two days later when Dawn still isn’t in class and she ends up having an actual, embarrassing panic attack, has to stagger out into the hallway because she can’t breathe, can’t stop thinking about that little baby sunshine girl strewn out in an alley with her throat cut. When did it start fucking mattering again?

Someone catches her arms. For a moment, the grip is so strong, and she almost thinks—Rupert—

Xander says, “Hey. Hey, Ms. Calendar. Hey. It’s okay.”

Jenny actually does start crying. It’s really humiliating. Worse than that is the fact that Xander, who she remembers as the world’s most annoying fifteen-year-old, is suddenly a strong, solid college student who can help her over to a chair while she sobs hard enough to throw up. He holds her hand the whole time.

“It’s okay,” he keeps repeating. “It’s okay. Dawn asked me to come and check on you. She thought—well, we forgot—” He fumbles. “We didn’t know you and Buffy were friends again.”

Friends is a really weird way to describe “Buffy shows up outside my house sometimes with shampoo,” but Jenny’s still crying too hard to correct him. She buries her face in her hands and tries to remember how to breathe.

“She’s okay,” Xander says. “She’s—” His voice breaks a little. “It’s. Uh. Joyce.”

At which point Jenny actually does throw up on her own shoes.

~~~~

Xander takes the shoes and walks her to his car. He’s holding her hand, which is weird, but so is Joyce Summers being dead. So is whatever Jenny’s going to have to say to Snyder about skipping her own classes to throw up on the floor outside of the library.

“Anya might have shoes that fit you,” he offers. “Her feet run a little bigger than yours, but.”

Anya’s shoes are terrible. Impractical business-girl heels. Jenny ignores them entirely, clambering into Xander’s passenger seat and sinking back against the chair until it reclines.

“Yeah, you know what, sure,” says Xander to himself, and gets in, starting the car. “So, uh, how’ve you been? Anything new going on? Kinda thought you’d leave, after—all that shit went down sophomore year.”

“Inaction is death,” says Jenny. “Action is—” No, wait, that’s not right.

“…Neato,” says Xander. “Can I put on the radio?”

She doesn’t answer. He turns it on.

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming, or the moment of truth in your lies—

“CAN YOU TURN OFF THE RADIO,”says Jenny.

“Geez,” says Xander, “who died?” and then he starts laughing really hard and really loud, hyena loud, until he just doubles over on the steering wheel and starts crying.

Jenny stares at the ceiling. Thinks, bizarrely, and almost warmly, that this would be the kind of moment that Rupert would describe as his own personal nightmare, which is enough for her to sit up in the car a little.

“Hey,” she says, and sort of whacks Xander on the shoulder in an attempt to pat him. “Uh. There, there?”

Xander keeps crying. Jenny gives up and goes back to lying down.

One time she and Rupert tried to have car sex and he almost threw out his back on top of the crossbow bolt wound she inflicted. One time she drove Buffy to the docks with Angel in the backseat and Buffy in the front seat and both of them trying to convince her Buffy should be in the backseat—her resolute in her determination to at least halfway live up to her promise to her uncle, never mind that Buffy shouldn’t have ever been in that car in the first place. One time—

Xander’s crying is beginning to even out. Wetly, he says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It wasn’t even—it wasn’t even like—monsters kill people here, not—”

“Xander, things just die here,” says Jenny. “This is the worst fucking town in the history of the world.”

“So why are you still here?” he demands.

“Rupert’s grave is still here,” says Jenny, and realizes with a small and painful jolt that this is the real reason.

He rubs a hand across his face and says, shakily, “Let’s get you home.”

~~~~

Dawn and Buffy both rush her at the door. She doesn’t know why she’s expecting this when it happens. They both just tumble into her like puppies, like it’s what they’re supposed to do, and she holds them so fucking tight, just about collapses to the ground with them. Nobody’s crying. Nobody’s saying anything. Buffy’s face is tucked into her hair.

From somewhere far away, Willow says, “Ms. Calendar?”

Buffy says, “The finances are a mess. And funerals are so expensive.”

Jenny says, “Now who’s asking for the credit card of a woman having a mental health crisis?”

“Yeah, well, I’m a woman in a mental health crisis. Make a donation.” Buffy’s holding Jenny hard enough to bruise. Jenny doesn’t give a shit. “You should be failing Dawn. She’s learning nothing in Comp Sci.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

Jenny lets go of them both, a little. Dawn looks dizzy with relief. Buffy is just meeting her eyes with this firm intensity, nothing hostile to it, but nothing at all like the light and frothy teenage girl who looked cheerfully through her. Maybe it’s the first time they’re actually looking at each other.

“It fucking sucks,” says Buffy.

“Yeah,” says Jenny. Maybe she’s crying a little. “Yeah, it does.”

“And it never—never stops hurting.”

“Yeah.”

“Never.”

Jenny reaches out and catches Buffy’s face in her hand. “Are you keeping up with your classes? I’m not letting you drop out.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

“Not on my dime.” She squeezes Buffy’s shoulder. “You’ll take a semester off and then it’s back to the grind. And maybe we’re moving to LA. What the fuck are we still doing here?”

“We need—”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“There’s still—”

“I don’t give a shit, Buffy, we’re done. We’re done.”

Buffy smiles a little. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “LA. We’re done. Let the hell town eat itself.”

No one’s there to stop them, anyway.

#fic #jenny calendar #jenny and buffy #jenny and dawn #i think the thing that really hits about writing for jenny now is like #whenever i do it just means so fucking much to me.#i am not just writing to keep writing for her forever.#whatever i produce now is very .... from my heart! <3 #also deeply harrowing and all about grief and horror but yknow

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 11 months ago

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10.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.

Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room.

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.

The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.

He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window.

He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.

That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.

But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain.

Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?

Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?

He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.

“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.

She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate.

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”

“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”

“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:

“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point.

He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.

He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.

A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.

Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.

The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche.

“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”

Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”

Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?”

Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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hometoursandotherstuff · 11 months ago

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When a home has been on the market too long, the realtor will suggest removing it for a while. If buyers see that it's been on too long, they'll realize something's wrong with it. BUT, some realtors will have it say "off the market," yet keep the listing, "just in case," I guess. Then what's the point? This castle is currently "off the market." 2007 build in Beaver Dam, WI, 4bds, 4ba, $977K.

So, let's see what's going on. Two castle-like front doors. Cement floors, tinted and sealed.

Interesting entrance hall has two arched doorways, and looking up you can see a curved balcony and what appears to be a mezzanine. Not sure how castle-like the wall colors are.

It has an open floorplan with some niches and little windows in the stair railing.

To the left they have a dining table set up.

And, to the right is the large kitchen. Above is a balcony. Not a fan of the kitchen, I don't care for the wall color, there's no backsplash to break it up, and the cabinets and counters aren't my style.

There's a guest powder room.

And, a laundry room.

At the top of the stairs, there's a cool little turret.

It's unclear why this is the only photo of the living room.

Up on the mezzanine they've got a sizeable home office with a fireplace. I think that this space may have originally been for a family room or den.

I like the halls to the bedrooms, but I don't care for their color scheme.

The primary bedroom has a fireplace, sitting area, and walk-in closet. On the other side of the bed wall is the en-suite.

Bedroom #2 is spacious and also has a sitting area.

Bd. #3 is a good size and that must be an en-suite back there on the right.

Off the hallway there's a shower room with a barrage of multi-directional shower heads.

This could be bd #4 that they're using as an exercise space b/c it looks out at the roof top deck.

It's a large private deck with cool walls. You could yell at your friends from up here, as they approach. Who goes there? Or something like that.

I like the walls in the basement. Two pool tables.

And, a nook for pinball machines if the new owner would like.

Love the approach to the castle. Look at those trees and the winding road.

I think that this could be so cool with the right decor and colors, but it will take a lot of paint &/or wallpaper.

There are stairs so that you can go up the higher roof, too.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/W6902-Prospect-Rd_Beaver-Dam_WI_53916_M87607-08667

#castle houses #unique homes #unusual homes #architecture #houses #house tours #home tour

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vivisviolets · 1 year ago

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💬 "what happened to hello- how are you?- my name is- what happened to that?-"💬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ⋅☆⋅Who's in your energy?⋅☆⋅

★ and whyyyyyy???

⋅☆⋅ pick the sketch-a-roonie you feel most *drawn* to~ whichever your eyes landed on first, the colors you like most, which aligns with your personality- etc etc!!! ask God/Spirit/higher self if you need more clarification or you are unsure, and feel free to pick more then one- or all of the piles as you may have needed messages scattered throughout!!! last thingy before we start~: remember you are deserving of good things and all that you desire and dream of- no matter where you are in life or how capable/deserving of what you want for your life, you are always deserving- and there is nothing wrong with growing along with having your desires!!!!!! that's beautifullll- srry felt like someone needed to hear that (maybe just me lol) okieee enjoyyy ♡♡♡♡ ⋅☆⋅

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ pile 1

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⋅☆⋅ The Hermit, The Fool (reversed), The Sun (reversed), Eight of Swords (bottom of deck) ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ -(slight 18+ cw)- "independent freak- 7 days a week-" (WHAT 😭), girl boss/boss energy, intellectual attraction, fire placements, air placements, Sagittarius/Pisces/Aquarius placements, Mars ruled, Jupiter ruled, 1212, -Youtuber- Anita Sirene ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ lolll cards slip sliding everywhere~ we love, we love that~ Hi pile 1s!! Ok OOFH- these cards hon... Looking at them I feel like contributing them to whoever's been around you... But I can't be sure quite yet because I want to focus on you first as much as I can- so we'll discover/uncover if these cards are about you or the energy of others. So I'm hearing you may be new to tarot actually, whether that's reading the cards yourself or looking at tarot-related content (hiiii👋), or for one or two of you- you are not new to tarot, but there is now something different you're doing. A new approach, or you coming at that aspect of your divination differently- but for both of my new and old card seekers/readers you are using tarot in regards to this situation you are currently in... some unsteady/shaken up feelings about your love life...- I'm seeing Anita Sirene so you may be recent viewers/fans of her content and are really aligned with her energy- I'm trying to remember her star sign/placements I think she's a Sagittarius or has other fire placements- you might also be ruled by Mars or Jupiter. You have a very grounded, masculine energy to you- you also possess such an intellectual drive (sharp/curious I'm hearing).

...Along with the energetic alignment of your drive- I'm hearing your sex drive might be significant in your life, a little 18+ cw for the next few sentences- you are very knowledgeable in self-pleasure,- but you particularly like sharing that drive of yours with another person. Someone who you have looked into, and you align with intellectually <--- that is very important to you in a partner, including who you hook up with- I'm also feeling really independent energy from you, I'm hearing you're very "in charge" and "on-top" of pretty much every aspect of your life- and people describe you with those exact phrases, both negatively and positively... I'm hearing a lot of different men/masculine/divine masculine figures talking about you, these are a lot of past people, past bosses, and partners- someone's a doctor or a surgeon... Some of these masc figures were really triggered by how divine your energy is because you made them realize how underdeveloped their masculinity was, and soooo- they mad at you... Still. 😭 omg- they are so bitter, whiny, pathetic-... small. You have 5'10 energy and they are teensy tiny in comparison BAHAHA (that's for my afabs- for my amab its like 6'6 energy,, 💀 damnnn)- but yea these "men" that you rightfully left in the past (kicked out of your temple and on the curb I'm hearing) are still talking shit about you, calling you "cold"-"too busy"-"self-absorbed", calling you a b!t@h- just laugh my dear darling. Just laughhh because they are just proving your reason for cutting them out of YOUR life correct and justified to anyone with eyes lol...

They are so ick- major ick, because they talk so much bullshit but it's so clear they're just butt hurt that you don't take them to bed anymore 18+ cw they can crudely call you a "freak" all they want with their drinking buddies, it's sooooooo obvious (it's almost pitiful)- how much they miss sex with you... They miss what you would do and how you would do it-... I've been hearing Pisces placements for a bit (Pisces degrees, Pisces rising, Pisces 8h?) so they also regret not being able/given the golden opportunity to unlock true intimacy with you-... Damn, I need to end this interview full of bullshit that I've been having with your ex-partners. Lolll moving onnn- wrapping it up, they're mad that you leveled up and they couldn't upgrade with you boohoo ah well that's 👏life👏 it's not high school anymore. -Anyways, these past bosses- there is one bad egg and I congratulate you on leaving that environment and I will say no more regarding that~ your other past bosses or bosses you have known however? Glowing reviews. They literally miss you... I don't think there was any affair going on- but I mean take it if it resonates ofc BAHAHOO- but for most of you, they miss how much of a breath of fresh air you were for them in the work/business environment- because they finally found someone who fully aligned with them professionally and responsibility wise- doesn't matter what position you held at the time, as soon as you spoke and showed your capabilities and your mind to them they respected you- you surprised them and they literally recount what you were like to work with- with a twinkle in their eye. Because you knew how to be exactly what you needed to be professionally and be yourself- you are a perfect balance of interacting with connections in a business environment, and adding your fiery flare to it that leaves everyone seeing you as a centerpiece in the workplace/branch- you may dress really nicely too, and add something funky to your business style (big glasses, a pop of color, basics with a patterned piece, etc) so that makes you even more memorable-

You are completely your own person/woman/man, like... Have I told you how much I admire you yet-? Like not to place you on a pedestal but holy shit have you built your own life- not to get into your background rn or anything but fr you have been a builder of yourself and your reality from the start. No matter what you have gone through, you have really transformed and grown strong enough to wield that potential for yourself... So yea!! Really proud of you- I just felt channeled to say that and you fully deserve to hear it and be compensated for all that growth you did for yourself ❤️.~ One last thing before I leave your leopard print patterned energy (that resonates for someone here I know it 😭)- you are looking for a potential life partner, a commitment. Commitment is a keyword for you, you know exactly what your needs are in a life partnership. And I'm so happy to see you are open to finding that. Because I am hearing you struggle with an avoidant-attachment style... And a few self-destructive traits in regards to choosing partners who are of a lower vibration to you- but you're really starting to heal and look at those parts of you, choosing yourself- you guys are into astrology so I see you like to go after Capricorns, and a recent connection might have been a Capricorn/had Capricorn placements- but was underdeveloped and really screwed with you... You wanted them to be the one but they couldn't live up to that and that really triggered their immaturity- that's not your fault, they just weren't the one... And so I want to move on to where you will meet the one~ ...You have not met this person yet (except for a few of you who are literally set to be engaged/are married already to this person omg)- and at this time they seem like some faraway dream... And they are in a way, energetically/physically- they are far away at this time. But they will be coming in and coming close to you in a fast period of time- like one day they're on the other side of the country, and the next they'll be on your side in your city. They will arrive in your workplace environment, or even at church (your place of religious/spiritual worship)- I see you being introduced with maybe one to two other people around you that you already know in this environment. Things will be very cordial, there'll be eye contact and a handshake, maybe even a casual joke on your end and it'll make their eyes twinkle- they are either the same age as you or older, and you'll notice something about their hair (hairline?), and their expression on their face as they hold eye contact. Simply meeting you will cause something in them to align themselves to your vibration- which is what will later down the line be so different, this mutual alignment to each other and this person desiring to be on your level. It may not feel or be described as "love at first sight" but instead a mutual shift that will flow you both to a true life commitment ❤️~. Ok my dear darlings ⭐️, as you can see- you will meet someone to share a commitment with and build with- as I channeled all of that so easily. I'll end it here and if you're curious about more details on your FS then just search for another pac because I have faith that the first one you will be drawn to will give you the most important details for you to know at this time~ paint your toes and have a night in wearing your fluffiest robe with some mood lighting ❤️❤️❤️~.

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ pile 2

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⋅☆⋅ Knight of Pentacles, Page of Wands (reversed), The Tower, The Devil (reversed) (bottom of deck) ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ Blossom (Powerpuff Girls), "lover girl" ("lover boy"/"lover"), any element placements, Taurus/Cancer/Virgo/Aries/Libra/Gemini/Aquarius, 1212, 12:34(pm/am), 111, hoodies/loungewear, dms, the library, book lover, aesthetic reads, romance, "my first (x)", pink/purple/green/white/cream, -Youtuber- deb smikle ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ You like Lana Del Rey, and you're in/and or back in your Ultraviolence era- and you heavily identify with the "lover girl"/"lover boy"/"lover" archetype. "That's it." I'm hearing spirit saying 😭, ok respect 👏!! Hi Pile 2s!! You are heavily in your feels (or someone might be in their feels about you and this is a shared energy), you have this grounded energy to you naturally but you have a tendency to dream away- and you are very dreamy and in a haze rn... You guys are into literature yea? Definitely book lovers and I'm seeing someone's back to me at a library bookshelf- you definitely have those aesthetic photos on your Pinterest boards. Vision boards, better habits, how you're viewed/perceived, etc 💕. I'm feeling actually a very wide range of astrology placements for this pile- the first sign I heard is Taurus (Sun or other placements), you have Aquarius vibes with how complex and well-written your dreamy side can be in viewing the world (Aquarius Moon, Mercury, etc)- but again, wide range of signs and their placements in this pile, but what you are all sharing is this situation that has your minds and hearts in a haze of dreams and musings... Okkkk come back down to earth is what you are being divinely told- but I see this going out one ear and out the other for more of your musings and haze... Ouch!! Spirit is really warning you to get out of your own head and actually look at your surroundings with your own perspective removed just for a moment-... But I'll get to that later, I want to try and move through this sparkly, pinkish/purple fog around you and see what the cause of it is (outside of you continuing to regulate it)- Oh yea- it's a boy I knew it.<-- Change it for your situation(ship oh no-),- and I just know as I drew your cards... I knew it, your energy by nature is The Knight of Pentacles. You are responsible and outwardly mature. I'm also hearing academic- you are definitely a reader/book lover and you definitely bullet journal. But you get distracted easily... Because due to maybe being thrown into studying and academic fulfillment at a young age- you have this dreamy/romantic/emotional side to you that is underdeveloped... You also struggle then with organization- especially balancing your emotions/right brain, like when was the last time you bullet journaled for yourself??- and also wow, now I am disorganized... Don't worry my pile 2s💗!! We'll discuss more about that later, let me continue to shift through this fog towards this specific person... So you fell for a fire sign/placements person, heavily a masculine to your feminine (not gender identity specific, and take what resonates)- and they made you feel like you were discovering something new, and exciting,- and something you've always "dreamed about". "It's just like the books/the movies"- the poetry, the novels, the romcoms... They have curly hair or darker features/coloring- tall or around your height, a friend but a lover-... They ain't it, and there is something you are not seeing. <-- I could only just bring myself to finish channeling all these physical features about them before that message was pushing its way out- it's not even so much a message, it's a straight-up warning- God/Spirit/the divine is not "mad" at you per se but your guides are feeling like they have to shout at you at this point due to how lost you are choosing to become through this fog... This person (I'm getting Aries or maybe Capricorn/Sagittarius), you are viewing their traits with rose-colored glasses, and that sucks because it may feel you two are very close friends- and that tinted perspective is justified because it's "true love" (I'm hearing Frozen)...

I feel like I'm breaking your heart here and causing you a lot of doubts- but I mean,,, you are still reading- and if what I am channeling for the collective is triggering you, then that is a big golden sign- to look clearly through this romanized fog. (If you don't feel triggered then this is definitely not your pile at this time💗 pick a different one)- this person, is not the bias/vision that you have placed on them, and not in the "they're secretly a monster" way- I mean they are the embodiment of all of your own underdeveloped emotions and secrets I'm hearing- so if you try and hide an underdeveloped immaturity let's say (the developed side of immaturity would be purity/innocence)- then they embody that same immaturity... In fact, the reason why you were drawn to them, is because they remind you of your own underdeveloped traits. The unprocessed traits that you keep hidden, they express theirs openly/externally- and that really attracts you and turns you on about this person, whether you consciously realize that or not... Really it's all of those parts that you continue to be wishy-washy about that are trying to make themselves heard- by pushing your perspective into self-destruction. Ok ummm... Yea. Spirit is telling you to "play it out" for yourself- because it will teach you and cement some very deep/core understandings about yourself and really develop you... But they are still going to be shouting at you- not to trigger your anxiety but in an attempt to deliver clarity to you... Through this glitter bomb fog of sweet smells- and long glances- and poetic excerpts... You will definitely be vent/vague posting relating to them if you haven't already... 💀 I'll be so honest since I feel I've just made a whole call-out post to you- this person is just here for the ride. For the fun, the emotional energy they gain from your focus on them- they are not deep like you are. Not even close. Probably never will be tapped into their own potential depth, isn't that sad? Pathetic?- And don't you dare- I see you- don't you dare think you can "fix" them. Have "delusions" about yourself, not other people's potential actions/free will- that is delusional. That is destructive delusion. -You probably will need to completely deconstruct yourself, and you have the choice after this channeled reading to either go with Spirit allowing you this experience and then the aftermath of playing it out, or you can heed all of their warnings and go fully within yourself. Spirit is being very allowing with you- because you are so loved, divinely loved and I'm not just saying that- you are divinely loved because spirit knows all the potential you have deep inside, and they want you to dig and reach into yourself to unlock it from your depths. They don't want you to sleepwalk through your emotions or live your feelings vicariously through characters anymore- they want so viciously,- and dearly for you to have, and embody your own story... It's beginning to rain, and there are couples- and solo butterflies flying around me- go outside into nature, remove Instagram from your phone for a day, feel the warm air on your skin, and remove the layers made from characters you've read about from your being- there was nothing wrong with them, but you must become your own story at this time.

I think I'll end this right here- your pile was very different then the other 2 I read tbh because of how strong a point was made regarding inner self-work- I feel the urge to say that you are welcome to reach out/ask me regarding your situation/what you can do to begin this inner discovery,- I'll answer you briefly tapping into your alignment/energy, and I apologize for a wait time from me- but yea!!! Ok good luck my pile 2s💕 go bake some cookies or something with pink icing 💗

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˗ˏˋ ꒰ 💬 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ pile 3

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⋅☆⋅ The Lovers (reversed), Five of Cups (reversed), Nine of Cups (reversed), Ten of Cups (reversed) (bottom of deck), + bonus card Judgment (reversed) ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ Sunny, warm skin-warm heart, watery/emotional heart, water placements, Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio, air placement influence, medium/dark coloring, Kate Hudson energy, yellow, 333, 3030, Wattpad, crocheting, -Youtuber- BOZE ⋅☆⋅

⋅☆⋅ Oooooh Pile 3s- going into your energy I was given such imagery of sunlight and sunshine- and now I'm hearing You Are My Sunshine~ You babies are such sweethearts- like you're giving the energy of being like a childhood friend who gives the warmest and most energetic hugs no matter how old they get- it's giving 🔆💛☀️- heavily channeling certain physical features, so you may be on the shorter side, with a really cute athletic build- very evenly proportioned and so strong and full looking- take what resonances!! Somebody however does/did view you like this however, whoever you've given hugs to especially (which does not narrow it down bc you love giving hugs 😌)- in particular, someone who you have to stand on your tiptoes to embrace, with your arms around their neck... UGHHH someone is in love with you!!!!!! OR SOMETHING😭😭!!!!- I don't think that you even know, you have suspicions about it- I see some of you are neutral about the possibility of a romantic relationship with whoever this friend is- and some of you are very preoccupied with the idea of it- but both of you do love whoever this is💛. A whole- WHOLE LOT 💛💛💛 that's why the label of romantic love you may have mixed or strong feelings about because you already love this person... Some of you may have known this person since childhood- this could be a co-worker (someone here works at a grocery store🍏 or fresh food is significant)- or there's just this feeling to your connection that is connected more deeply, it's giving like- a friend that you almost have a sibling bond to, because of how familiar they feel energetically.

-omg I completely lost track of what this reading is about lollllll and also describing you as you are- bc you have someone who's heavily in your energy, and they see you so positively (got randomly spellchecked- the name Antoine might be significant to you, family/friend/familiar word.. 😭)- they have this more grounded energy to them... -take it for your situation because I am seeing for many people that this is a guy/masculine/friend, and for a few of you this is a gal/feminine friend- either way their energy balances with yours so so well, like you are the sunshine to their earth☀️ (I'm hearing the song I was hearing earlier and now the song- You Light Up My Life)... Aaaaauuuugg this person... I would not use the word obsessed to describe how they feel about you- because this energy towards you is way too pure. You have your complications as all connections like this have, and those should be addressed- but at the end of the day if you two landed on a desert island together- you'd live in absolute peace fr lol... Where was I?? Oh sht let me actually get into some different aspects of you 😭- I need to address all the reversals I got, I felt a little untrusting in the cards and wondered if I shuffled my deck wrongly- so I asked for one more reversal as confirmation, and got Judgment in freaking reverse girllllyyyyy 😭 (gn term)- so let's unpack that. Because I definitely am seeing situations in your life relating to these cards-

Something is going on within you that was triggered by those around you... -you were in a friend group/dynamic that made you feel certain negative emotions, fear, panic, or pressure? This may have been regarding someone or people with air placements- I'm hearing Gemini largely- who... I'll just say were rather cruel... But also in general it was an issue of you and them just not being a good match in the same room- you might have tried to become closer to them out of wanting to share your light with them, -and it just ended up with you becoming attached and anxious to their very up/down moods and affectionate to cold attitude... But honey I'll just say, I'm not going to completely put down this person- yes. They are a b-word (gn term 🌞✨)- but you put yourself in the pathway of their behavior. I am sure as heck not blaming you nor shaming you for trying to share your beautiful light with this person/people, but you need to recognize- your own intentions were pure in wanting to bring joy to certain people- but what about you? What is giving joy to other people, whether they deserve it or not based on their actions,- actually doing for you? It is always rewarding enough to do the right thing, to be selfless in treating everyone equally- but those acts are done right only when you do them from a place of personal protection/boundaries and self-respect. Otherwise, you're just the one pulling the weight of the ship (or the group chat I'm hearing lol)- and honey,,, that's not righteous or healthy- it's the opposite because you are not doing yourself the justice of giving your part and allowing the other person to do their part- and honey- that is what healthy group socialization is. Being yourself instead of catering and giving of yourself to everyone. Not everyone is on your level, and not everyone has to like you- that is ok. It isn't your job to fix or be everything to everyone. That is not your purpose. Your purpose is you being something that involves you giving to yourself- how giving you can be to others is a powerful and good aspect of you, but it is not you.

Wow I went off- but you need to start recognizing your own unhealthy behaviors, so you can become better and healthier for yourself in your friendships. It's reminding me a lot of some of Beach Bunny's lyrics, (no shade to her, I have overplayed all of their stuff lol) I myself didn't see it at the time, but after a lot of my own healing I started to really recognize how- people pleasing, anxious attachment style, etc, the lyrics were... And how (just speaking for the character in the lyrics, not the actual writer I don't know her) a lot of the heartbreak and drama could have been avoided if she looked at and addressed her own anxiety issues, instead of focusing on the other party in the situation... It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me 😭 man I am channeling so much music so you might be listening to so much music for all your different emotions rn. But cereal-sly🥛- start looking at your own triggers instead of who caused them. They're responsible for their own actions, and you are responsible for your reactions to them...

I really went on and I hope I wasn't too harsh to you during this vulnerable time💛- but it is better to stop and be vulnerable, than continue on this hamster wheel. Please cut away from people at this time, more so I mean start recognizing if you feel uncomfortable when you are not constantly sharing yourself- I'm REALLY hearing you should just go ghost with some of the people in your energy- don't even worry or feel guilty about it, because true connections that are actually for your good would respect your mental health break high key- speaking of do open up and let those you trust most about what you are feeling because they care about you so much. Use your intuition instead of your anxious attachment to figure out who these true friends are, and seriously cut out the rest. No matter how triggering it may be to your anxiety, address it, comfort yourself, and heal- because once you learn this newfound respect for your emotions, you're going to shine even fuller than before, and you are going to enjoy this change as much as those who love you so so much do as well. 💛💛💛 RECOVERING PEOPLE PLEASER GANG 🙌 YOU'RE GOING TO BE HAPPIER THEN EVER 🙌 trust and believe~🔆

⋅☆⋅

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⋅☆⋅ oh man i thought i was going to sleep 2 hours ago... one day I'll actually reward myself with a full night of sleep 💀.. blessings~!!!

⋅☆⋅ love, vi~♡

#୨୧┈♡ vi post #୨୧┈♡ vi pac #୨୧┈♡ vi's art #pac #pac tarot #pick an image #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile

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adrift-in-thyme · 5 months ago

Note

May I request Fairy Time and Hyrule doing some wing care or teaching the others how to help them take care of their wings?

Yes you absolutely may! Tysm anon!! I hope you don’t mind a bit of angst with all the softness

CW for one mention of blood

———————————————————————-

“How long has it been since you did this?”

Hyrule runs gentle fingers over Time’s wings. They spread grandly on either side, hues of soft greens and delicate blue-violets reflecting the sun’s smiling rays. Usually, they are colored in bold crimson and royal blue, which clash like swords on a battlefield. But today they take on a more tired appearance. Faded, they have begun to droop discouragingly.

Time has never admitted it, but Hyrule has eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his wings change when something is wrong. More often than not, they herald the disturbance before it can truly become known. A flash of forest green and the next thing he knows Time is fading into the mist in search of solitude.

…or collapsing in the middle of the trail.

Now, Time hums, sounding distracted. His hands lie in his lap. Absently, he twists his wedding band back and forth so quickly it is liable to rub a rash into his skin.

(Another nervous habit of his Hyrule has picked up on.)

“I’m not certain,” he admits, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words are spoken with an air of something so desperate to be flippant. “I’ve been occupied with other matters.”

Hyrule blows out a weary sigh.

Other matters like worrying about all of us.

True, things have been strained amongst the heroes since Twilight’s injury. And as unofficial leader — and the rancher’s ancestor — Time has borne the brunt of it all. But still….

Malon had warned him about this.

“Oh, he just doesn’t take care of himself.” She had whispered during a visit to the ranch months ago after Time had fallen asleep at the dinner table. Head resting on her shoulder, he slept far deeper than he had in days.

“I’m not askin’ y’all to hover or anything. Heaven knows you’ve got enough on your plates as it is. But…just check in once in a while, will ya, loves? I don’t want him to lose himself while trying to take care of everyone else.”

Hyrule can’t help but feel that he has failed. The events of the past weeks have left their mark upon him too. Exhaustion has hounded him at every turn, dragging him down so heavily that he has nearly collapsed beneath it. And yet, he had noticed the signs. The quietness, the reservation, the increase in snappishness…the fear. But he had done nothing about them.

It wasn’t until Time had asked if he had taken the time to care for his own wings that he realized he hadn’t seen the older hero settle down to tend to his own lately.

He winces as he weaves the spell into some of the worse areas, mainly gathered around a large scar. These large wings, normally so bright with magic and life, have begun to lose their glimmer. Frightened, they shrivel, curling in one themselves to shield from the light.

With wings like this, flying will soon become agonizing.

Would he have tried to anyway? Hyrule doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Solitude can be harmful. He knows that far too well. But sometimes he wonders just how much of his life Time has spent alone to end up believing it is the only way to get by. Even after this family they have formed along the paths of hardship, even after Malon, it seems to be the road most familiar to the hero.

“You can always ask me, you know.”

He has been gentle this entire time, even more so than he is with his own wings. But with this part, he is extra cautious. He threads the healing magic into Time’s veins with the delicacy of one handling glass.

“I know it’s hard to take care of your wings yourself. And I know it’s even harder to trust others to do it for you. But…” He swallows as his fingertips graze the scar.

What had occurred to create such a chasm? To his knowledge, Time has never spoken of the event. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever will.

“You trust me…right, old man?”

Time looks up, fingers stilling at last.

“Of course, I do, traveler,” he says, softly. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t.”

“Then, let me help you. Please?”

“I’m allowing you to now, aren’t I?”

The traveler huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease.”

There is a smile in his voice, and Hyrule is glad of it. Even still, if the hero believes he’s going to escape without a proper reply, he is sorely mistaken. If Hyrule is known for anything, it’s his infinite stubbornness.

“Come on, old man,” he urges, softly. “Promise me you’ll ask someone to help tend to your wings when you need it. It doesn’t even have to be me. Just ask someone, please.”

Time’s wings are beginning to improve now. Threads of vibrant red glow from beneath the green. Like blood on new cloth, they spread, engulfing the other colors. He watches, slightly awed.

“I love you, Time,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you enduring pain just cause you don’t want to be a burden.”

For a long moment, Time says nothing. The only sounds are the subdued jingles of the spell twined about Hyrule’s fingers and the harmony of their breaths. It is peaceful in a pensive sort of way.

Then, “alright,” he says in a voice taut with emotion. “But only if you allow me to help you when you need it. Don’t think I don’t see how you struggle to remember your own welfare. You are too selfless for your own good.”

Hyrule chuckles. “Well, I could say the same about you.”

A small smile lifts Time’s lips. “Such is the path of the hero, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” The traveler’s gaze goes to the scar once more. “I guess.”

Silence pads in on soft, silken paws and settles down cozily. Time goes back to rotating his ring, though the motions are slower, calmer this time. Hyrule turns his full attention to finishing his task. Above them, the sun smiles, and Time’s wings transfer it in panes of pale red upon the blades of grass.

“Traveler?” Time’s voice is so quiet it is hardly above a whisper. It nudges aside the quiet, murmurs with the wind.

When the hero is in his fairy form, it is as though he is of the nature that surrounds them; as at home amongst the towering trees and great sky, stones and moss and gurgling streams, as the fleet-footed deer or furtive foxes.

Hyrule looks up, head cocked in question. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. And…” Time smiles, so soft it erases years of anguished hardship from his visage. “I love you too.”

The traveler smiles.

#lovely anon #trin writes #fic request #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu hyrule #fairy time au #angst #fluff #ok lore drop in the tags #so fairies have to care for their wings like birds have to preen #they have to do it around once a month at the VERY LEAST #once a week is better #some do it every day #but the way they do it is by weaving a healing spell into them #it doesn’t have to be any specific healing spell #as long as it soothes wounds it’ll work #it rejuvenates their magic #and keeps their wings from drying up #alternatively they can take a dip in a Great Fairy fountain #but the spell works just as well #they can take care of it themselves #although it’s difficult to reach #so they prefer to have someone they trust do it #time has a hard time trusting anyone to do it for him #and it’s difficult for Malon to do it for him #so he usually just does it himself #for better or worse

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

Note

Lilia please impart some sage wisdom to Fellow like how Uncle Iroh gave advice to the one guy that tried to mug him in Ba Sing Se. He fr needs some guidance counseling

I wrote this one while running on like 4 hours of sleep so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense 🤡

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow nearly leapt out of his own skin at the figure that descended, upside down, from a tree. They were short, with choppy bangs streaked with magenta, his irises the same bright color, his vest a neon green. But youthful as the student seemed, his voice was as ancient and as deep as a starry night sky.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Lilia drawled. “If it isn’t Fellow and young Gidel. It has been quite some time. How goes it? I certainly hope you boys have been behaving yourselves.”

"W-We've been just fine and dandy, I assure you!" Fellow instinctively took a step in front of Gidel. He provided the broadest smile he could muster in that moment. "And you've been in good spirits as well, I presume?"

"Oh, I'm fit as a fiddle, as you can see." The fae swung, righting himself and expertly landed beside Fellow. Gidel clapped, as if applauding a acrobatic performance, but stopped when Fellow shot him a withering look. "Now then, what brings you to our side of the island, hmm? Surely you're not simple tourists."

"Call it temporary residence."

"Temporary residence!" Lilia echoed, his eyes set glimmering like jewels. "My, that takes me back. I was a globe trotter back in my day too, you know. Lived the nomadic life, going wherever the wind took me."

Fellow stared at him as though he had just sprouted a third eye on his forehead. This guy's got a baby face, but he's talkin' like an old geezer... (If Lilia noticed, he wasn't bothered and continued, unfettered.)

"It's wonderful to meet new people and to experience new cultures," he said dreamily. "You learn so much, even from the humblest and most simple of folk. And such interesting stories they shared, kufufu. I’d like to depart on another trip, but I’m afraid school’s got me preoccupied.”

Fellow found himself frowning. He scanned Lilia up and down—the smart uniform, his high-waisted pants, shoes polished. Neat and sweet, likely another privileged kid vacationing on daddy’s dime.

When you’re poor, they call it trashy. When you’re rich, they call it ‘taking time off to discover yourself’.

“Must’ve been real nice for ya,” Fellow muttered under his breath. The brim of his top hat fell down, eclipsing his grimace. “You can choose to stay put or leave for a new place whenever you want. It’s not really an option for us.”

“Ah, but it’s not about the frequency of travel but what you gain from it.” Lilia lifted an index finger. “For example, did you know that sleeping with an uncovered mirror directly at you is bad feng shui in the Land of Crimson Long? They also have an awe-inspiring tale about a woman that took her father’s place in the military and saved the whole country.”

Gidel listened to him intently, ears perking up.

Lilia noticed, his mouth quirked. “Oh? I trust you’ve yet to visit. You should sometime, it’s a lovely place.”

“Maybe one day, though we never stay for too long. The locals, as you can probably imagine, always come to realize they aren’t fans of us.”

“If you opened your hearts to them, then surely…”

“We don’t have that luxury,” Fellow replied, a bit of ice to his words, “unlike you. The world isn’t that kind to us.”

Lilia quieted. His expression shifted, turning several shades more serious. “… Oh dear. I knew a man like you once. He was lost too. Angry, confused, despairing—and lashing out at the world and the people he believed had wronged him, denied him happiness.

“One day, while wandering in the darkness, he came upon a patch of moonlight. It lit the way and led him out of the thicket he had been trapped in for so long.”

That man was…

Lilia smiled softly.

“We cannot turn back time, but we can make the most of what we have left. If I may ask just one thing of you… live on. Look for that moonbeam in the night, that what brings you happiness. Protect it, treasure it, nurture it—so that it may, someday, see the sun.”

Lilia gave a gentle nudge to Gidel, causing the boy to stumble. He caught Fellow’s arm to balance himself.

“And if you can do that for one person, then it’s possible for you to do that for everyone. This world needs more love… not war.”

Fellow shook his head indignantly, but he supported Gidel by the back all the same. “I don’t get a lick of that. Love, war… whatever it is, it’s not my problem. We just gotta get by.”

“Someday, you’ll understand,” Lilia said with a terse laugh. “For now, I think you’re doing absolutely fine as you are. You’re the dynamic duo, never one without the other.”

Fellow smirked, his canines proudly protruding. “Hmph. You’re damn right we are.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Lilia Vanrouge #Gidel #Fellow Honest #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #a fellow in need is a friend indeed #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #Gino #Ernesto Foulworth

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geeky-politics-46 · 2 years ago

Text

Show Me/Her Prize

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: You discover Stephen's little panty stealing habit and request a demonstration of what he does with them.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - mutual masturbation, dirty talk, panty stealing, slight dom/sub, sub Sinister, slight degradation, fingering, reference to oral sex, reference to vaginal sex, pet names, language

This is a follow-up to my story "His Prize". The idea was first posited in a comment from @ppatricia34me & the mutual masturbation theme requested by @ironstrange1991. Thank you for the ideas, as I'm quite proud of this one!

"Stephen, did I drop some laundry in the hallway? This can't be all of it."

Your voice echoed through the Sanctum and quickly found your lover's ear. From his spot in the living room, where he had been perched with some ancient tome he was rereading, Stephen stood up and started to scan the hall you had just come from for anything you may have dropped.

He carefully placed the book down and continued looking around the floor to no avail. There didn't appear to be anything you had dropped and left behind. He even retraced your steps, ending in the doorway of the master bedroom. Where he found you sitting on your shared bed sorting through a large load of freshly dried laundry.

"I didn't see anything in the hall, my love. Why? What's wrong?"

By now, you had started separating the clothes into distinct piles. One for his robes, one for his casual wear and boxers, one for your daily clothes, one for your pajamas, and lastly, one for your bras and panties. The last pile was definitely the smallest and seemed to be the source of your conundrum. Without looking up from the pile, you answered.

"It's just weird, I can only find one pair of my underwear, and there should definitely be more than that."

Oh shit.

He tried to keep his expression neutral as you rooted through the piles of clothes again. Checking to make sure they weren't stuck inside sleeves or pant legs. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and slight frustration.

He knew you weren't going to find them because he knew where they all really were. Sitting in the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk in his study. All stained with his cum. Having taken them to enjoy on his own. He didn't realize he must have pilfered quite so many. He certainly didn't intend for you to notice.

Or maybe he secretly did. Why else would he have kept doing it? Why else would he let himself take another pair without returning the last pair? It had all started with that purple lace pair he loved so much. Now, his drawer held a veritable rainbow of colors and fabrics.

Really, it was all your fault. He had never been this way before you. Never stolen another girlfriend's panties before. Never been this insatiable before. It was just something about you that had him so obsessed and needy. He practically felt drunk every time you touched him. You just had this power over him. How could he resist taking your panties?

He could fix this though. All he had to do was make it look like you had just missed a pile of laundry in the dryer. He would just go get your underwear out of his drawer, except maybe that favorite purple pair, use his magic to clean them and then bring them back, saying they were still in the dryer.

Yeah, that was it. That was what he would do. In the future, he would just be more careful about keeping his little collection under control because he definitely didn't intend to stop. He just had to go get them before you finished what you were doing and went to go check the dryer yourself.

"Tell you what, my love, why don't I go check to make sure you didn't miss some clothes in the dryer or drop them in the basement. You know how dark it can get down there. Don't you move a muscle."

With that, he turned on a heel and walked out of the room in large strides that were just a bit too quick to appear innocent. You waited just a moment to follow him. Assuming that if he was up to something, you wanted to catch him red-handed.

As soon as he was out of your view, he nearly ran to his office. Quickly unlocking the drawer with his magic and pulling all of your panties up onto his desk. Noticing just how out of control his habit had gotten, but still not wanting to give back any of them. Not when he now had such fond memories of each and every pair.

He quickly started sorting through them, trying to find the purple pair he refused to surrender, and maybe one or two others he just couldn't bear to part with. Did he want to keep the comfy cotton ones that weren't super sexy but held your scent the best? Or did he want to keep the tiny little black lace ones that hardly qualified as panties but looked so good both on you and wrapped around his cock?

That was how you found him. Standing behind his desk with a mountain of your panties in front of him. Black lace pair in one hand and the cotton pair in the other. Eyes darting back and forth like he was dealing with a filthy Sophie's choice.

Once he realized you were standing in the doorway, he could have quite literally died of embarrassment. He wanted to crawl under the desk and pretend this was all some hormone driven nightmare. His cheeks immediately flushed bright red. Actually, they matched the really soft crimson red pair of your panties that had little penguins on them that also happened to be sitting right in front of him on his desk.

"Uhhh… don't freak out okay. This isn't what it looks like."

That was the best response to your questioning face that he could come up with. He knew it wasn't a good response. Is it ever good when you have to use the phrases 'don't freak out' or 'this isn't what it looks like'?

What made it even worse was that he couldn't seem to pry his fingers loose from your panties. So, instead of dropping the two the pairs he had been holding, he reflexively hid them behind his back.

You tried as best as you could to not give away how close to falling apart with laughter you were. Of all the things you thought you might find, this was definitely not what you would have guessed. Stephen's flustered 'teenage boy caught with a Playboy' appearance made him look even more adorable and 100% guilty.

You have never felt more confident in your entire life. The big scary sorcerer who was ready to threaten you with death when you fell into his world had not only fallen for you but also apparently had a naughty little habit of stealing your panties. By the looks of the white-ish stains streaked across each and every pair, it also appeared he quite enjoyed himself with them too.

"Well, I guess this answers my question about where all my panties have gone. Doesn't it Stephen?"

You slowly started walking towards him with an extra sway in your hips. Your steps were slow and deliberate. Letting your fingers drag against the knick knacks around the room as you passed by them. Your body practically thrummed with energy. You felt so powerful seeing how your lover was so utterly entranced by you.

"Are you really that much of a needy boy that you resorted to stealing all my panties to jack off with? Only leaving me a single pair to wear. I guess you are a greedy boy, too. My greedy little panty thief. I can just imagine all three fun you've had with these. I can see it too."

You could see the effect your words were having on him. Somewhere between shame and arousal pooling in his eyes as he softly nodded. Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. His hands came back around to the desk. His fingers flexing and then grabbing at the pile of your soiled panties. Like a cat pawing at a scratching post.

"My naughty boy. Tell me baby, do you like them better fresh off my pussy or after you've made them all messy by covering them with cum?"

A groan pulled from deep in his throat at both. Fuck, he didn't want to chose. He loved both. Your essence and smell was obviously why he stole them in the first place, but he kept them afterward because he loved seeing them marked with his cum. It was the same appeal of seeing you covered in his cum.

"I know you aren't shy Stephen, with all the filth you normally say when we fuck. Cat got your tongue honey? Don't worry, I'm not mad at you naughty boy. In fact, the thought of you being so needy and horny that you steal my panties is really hot. It makes me feel like the powerful one."

By now, you had made your way over to stand next to him behind the desk. His eyes followed you the entire way even though his hands still hadn't let go of your panties. You reached up to brush a tendril of dark hair back from his face. Gently letting the back of your fingers caress his cheekbone on the way back down.

"You're so pretty, Stephen. Do you know that? I don't think I tell you that enough."

You felt your cunt flutter at the way he keened at your praise. He was still so unused to being complimented, especially by you. He had spent years tearing himself down and you were quite enjoying building him back up. Slowly watching him become more confident in your presence and in your affections.

Reaching down, you carefully untangled his hands from the pile of your panties on his desk. Taking his hands in yours before leading him to sit down in the large armchair behind his desk. Letting your hands come to rest on his broad shoulders after leading his hands to sit on your hips.

You were very thankful that you had neglected getting dressed that day. Still wearing the oversized t-shirt you had slept in the night before. It made the next part of your plan so easy to execute.

"Show me, Stephen. I wanna see."

He was sure his brain had completely melted into a puddle at that point. There was no way you were actually asking what he thought you were.

"I said show me, Stephen. Show me what you do with my panties. I want to see how you play with your cock when you are in here alone. Just you and my panties that you have such a bad habit of stealing."

Without looking away from you, he started to reach back over to the desk to grab a pair of the panties that he had squirreled away. Only to stop suddenly when you tutted and shook your head no at him. Making his brow furrow in slight confusion.

"I don't want you to use any of those panties, Stephen. I want you to use the ones I'm wearing right now. Go ahead. Take them off of me."

He nodded gently while biting on his lower lip. Clearly fighting the urge to start disobeying your orders and throw you on the desk. He did find this dominant side of you ever so enticing though. He rarely let his more submissive side show, but this he could get used to.

He placed his hands back on your body, this time letting them graze teasingly up the sides of your thighs. Coming to rest so his thumbs could slide under the waistband of your panties. Glancing up briefly to make sure he was doing what you wanted, the mischievous smirk on your face answering his question. A single nod falling before he started moving again.

Using the gentlest motions he could, he carefully slid your panties down your legs. Letting them pool at your feet and holding out his hand to you so you could steady yourself as you stepped out of them.

Once you had finished, you moved to sit yourself up on the edge of Stephen's desk. Ready to enjoy the show he was about to put on for you. You signaled for him to continue.

"Go on, baby. Pick them up."

Without taking his eyes off of you, he leaned down and delicately picked up your panties like they were a precious treasure. His long, beautiful fingers barely gripping the fabric with one hand. His other hand moved to start undoing the belts of his robes before moving to unfasten his pants. His bulge was now quite pronounced.

You were getting more aroused by the second. You wanted to indulge your own need and slide your fingers between your legs, but you had a plan. That plan was to make him beg to touch you. You wanted to wait to touch yourself until he was on the verge of crumbling.

Even now, he looked a mess. Hair disheveled, breathing heavy. His cock already so hard and flushed. His tip was weeping precum already. His hand gripping his shaft lightly and making long languid strokes. He was clearly being very careful not to make himself cum quickly.

"You have such a pretty cock Stephen. So big and hard. Does it hurt, baby? Bet I know what would make it feel better. Why don't you go ahead and wrap my panties around that pretty cock."

A wicked smile on your face as he did exactly as you told him. Who knew he could like being told what to do so much? Who knew your panties would look so good wrapped around his shaft?

You watched for a moment as he stroked himself with your panties. Occasionally moving to adjust the soft fabric so he could caress his balls with it or slide it up and over his dripping slit. Creating little wet stains from his precum before sliding it back up and down his veined velvety length.

"Tell me why you like stealing my panties so much, Stephen? I think I'm starting to like it myself. It's like you're marking your cock as mine."

He groaned at your statement and bucked his hips up. The urge to fuck his fist faster threatening to overtake him, but he was still holding out hope that he would get the chance to bury himself in your cunt before this was over. So he answered you, in as much detail as his brain would allow at the moment. All while continuing to stroke himself for your enjoyment.

"I like it because I'm fucking addicted to you. I want to fuck you every minute of the day. This way I get the smell and feel of you without having to bother you. The best is when they are still a little wet when I get a hold of them. Like I got you riled up and wet earlier in the day, or maybe we already fucked and you were leaking a bit of my cum. Have to fight the urge to lick them clean while jerking off."

You bit your bottom lip and moaned at his answer. It was one of the sexiest things you had ever heard him say. Any self-control you had left was quickly crumbling. Falling apart completely when he added one more sentence.

"... and this is your cock, darling. All of me belongs to you. Always will."

Your legs started to spread on their own when he told you he belonged to you. You both knew just as well that you belonged to him just the same. Deciding to reward him, you slowly spread your legs before bringing one foot up to rest on his desk. Spreading yourself wide so you were fully exposed to him.

"Well, this is all yours, Stephen, and I'm sure you can tell how turned on watching you has gotten me. See how wet I am just from watching you stroke your cock for me?"

A wicked grin on your face as you brought one hand to your cunt and pulled your pussy lips open. Making sure he could see your innermost petals glistening for him. He reflexively licked his lips when he saw your slick practically dripping from your hole onto his desk. His hips now thrusting up into his hand and your panties uncontrollably.

You knew there was no way that he could hold himself back long enough to give you time to make yourself cum with him. You could still enjoy yourself and get him to finish the job after you enjoyed your show. Knowing that watching you play with yourself would help push him over the edge quicker.

So you let your fingers start rubbing at your cunt. Working to spread your wetness over your folds. Sighing at the feeling of finally getting some direct stimulation. You pulled your hand away and slapped your pussy a couple times. Groaning at the tingle it sent through you. Letting your fingers trail back up to circle your clit as you leaned on your other arm for support.

Your bottom lip had made its way between your teeth. Your eyes were hooded and just as hazed with lust as Stephen's. Both of you were completely lost in each other without even touching each other.

You lowered your hand to slide two fingers in and out of your cunt. Knowing how much Stephen loved it when he could hear how wet you were for him. Your body did not disappoint as you started to thrust your middle and index fingers in and out of yourself. Somewhat frustrated that your fingers weren't as long and thick as Stephen's and that you couldn't quite reach your g-spot the way he could.

It still felt incredible though. Making sure to keep your palm grinding over your clit as you finger fucked yourself. A high pitched moan when you hit the perfect rhythm making Stephen start to lose his own pacing. Knowing he was about to hit his point of no return he couldn't hold back his whimpers any longer and he did something he never thought he would do. He begged.

"Oh fuck baby. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you. Can I cum? Please let me cum."

Groaning at his unprompted begging, you vigorously shook your head, yes. Summoning your sweetest voice, you answered him and granted his request.

"Cum for me Stephen. Show me how you cum all over my panties. Fill them up like a good boy."

He made sure to hold your panties so that they caught every thick warm spurt of his cum. Making sure to spread it around on the fabric, specifically aiming for the crotch of your panties. He had become well practiced at it. In a way he felt like it turned your panties into artwork. Pieces dedicated to how much he loved you. His orgasm was prolonged by having you there watching and touching yourself. Leaving the fabric somewhat soaked as he kept a hold of them. Once again, he wanted to keep them for himself. Just like all the others.

Once he had started to catch his breath and opened his eyes you pulled your fingers out of your pussy and brought your soaked fingers to his lips. Smiling when he greedily took them into his mouth and began sucking your nectar from them. Letting him enjoy a little treat before offering him a compromise to his panty stealing problem.

"Tell you what, Stephen, I'll make you a deal. You can keep one pair of my panties for every orgasm you give me tonight. Sound like a plan?"

You had barely finished your proposition before Stephen was shoving your hand away and pushing you to lay flat on his desk. Moving to loop his arms around your legs. Diving face first into your cunt and starting to devour you like a man starved.

He didn't even bother tucking his cock back into his pants. He knew he would be hard again before long, and he intended to make you cum enough times he could keep his entire collection.

You might not have any panties left by the time he was done with you, but you would have a hell of a consolation prize.

--------------------------------

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midnight-mourning · 6 months ago

Text

DCA Promptober Day 22: Nightlight

No notes for this one really, just some angst, I know how much you've all missed it <3

Word count: 727

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Click. The light turns on.

Click. Off again.

Click. On.

Click. Off.

You sigh, chin resting on your arm as you observe the nighlight.

It had been a gift, one you treasured greatly.

"To help keep away the monsters," Moon says as he holds the the small ceramic item out to you.

It's a nightlight, one that looks like him, even. You didn't know that Fazbear Entertainment even sold merch like this. It was adorable though, as was his reason for giving it to you.

You chuckle, "Monsters?"

He nods, hat jingling, "Since I can't always be there when you sleep. And you mentioned having trouble lately..."

It was true, while you'd been doing your best to let the Attendant in on the situation. There'd been a series of disappearences occuring all across the Plex and it had made you uneasy all around. Especially when you slept. Anytime you'd spoken about it you'd done your best to be vague. Though you also didn't expect the bot to have been paying such close attention either. It made you more assured in your feelings.

"Oh!" Your face heats up, "I, didn't think you were listening to that. Thank you."

You gently take the nightlight from his outstretched hands, observing it more closely. It felt, comforting, in a way, that it looked like him. Like your own little guardian Moon. The thought makes you giggle.

You hear his faceplate click as he tilts his head, "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. It's just," You bite your cheek then shake your head, now or never, "It's a mini verson of you to keep me safe. I, like that. A lot, really."

You glance up at him briefly, trying to get a read on the situation. Moon seems frozen and you feel anxiety start to creep in. Then, his facesplate suddenly spins rapidly and he has to reach his hand up to get it to stop.

You think you hear him sigh as he says, "Really?"

"Ye-Yeah, I um, I do. And I uh, I like you a lot, too."

Again, his faceplate spins, bell jingling madly and he has to use both hands to right himself.

He grumbles, "Apologies." It makes you laugh.

Moon makes a noise like he's clearing his throat, "I, well, if I may-could you close your eyes for a moment?"

Not what you were expecting as a response, but you oblige.

"Oh! Um, sure."

You hear him move closer, followed by a slight pressure on your hand and a soft click.

"You can open them now," Moon's voice is soft, hovering just barely out in front of you.

You open your eyes and find the nightlight now glowing a soft blue color in your hands. Illuminating you both, but not enough to cause a shift between the attendants it seems.

"Wow, how pretty-"

You're stopped by the feeling of plastic against your lips. Your eyes widen when you realize Moon's now taking up your entire field of vison, capturing you in a sweet kiss which ends after a few long moments.

Moon pulls away, "I like you too. A lot."

Again, your face feels very warm.

He must notice as he chuckles, hand resting on your cheek as he swipes his thumb across your lips.

"Why did you um, have me close my eyes? Out of curiosity," You ask.

Another laugh, "I wanted to be dramatic."

Once you realize what he's say you gape, then swat his arm, scolding, "Don't scare me like that! I thought you were about to let me down gently or something."

"Never," He catches your hand, pressing your wrist to his smile, "Would you think so little of me?"

You huff, "I do now-hey! That tickles!"

The cheerful memory fades as you hear a thump on your roof overhead. You sniff, wiping your eyes as your senses becomed heightened. As they do every night around this time.

You don't know what's out there. You've only caught glimpses. Something big. Ragged. And with eyes that are deep purple.

Though sometimes, when you keep the nightlight over by the window, you swear those eyes are red as they stare in at you while you lie in bed, praying that thing will never figure out how to get inside.

Turns out Moon was right, your little guardian did keep out the monsters.

You just hope it stays that way.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

WOOOOO ANGST ANGST ANGST not a lot, you mainly got lucky and got some sweet soft fluff, but the angst is woven in between. Link to the other promptobers I've done is here, thank you for reading!!

#Trying to keep these on the shorter side as I catch up #mainly bc I want to post everything BEFORE the 31st and not after #so gonna be capping at around 700 words for the next few #unless something really catches my eye and the stove catches on fire #dcatober24 #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #dca fic #x reader #midnight mutterings

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pizzabox-box · 7 months ago

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Haha hi good morning I woke myself up with this one I was thinking about it so hard. I may look back on this in four hours and have regrets. Hi Peppino I'm taking you up on your offer...

Noise and Doise broke apart and stumbled to opposite sides of the arena. Noise winced as he realized he was one good hit away from collapsing. That was his fault - he hadn't taken his intruder seriously until he had gotten critically wounded. Fortunately, the Doise was in a similar condition. Noise was certain that was because he had been using bombs instead of -

He spotted the rock barreling down towards his head just in the nick of time and jumped backwards. The projectile burst into a cloud of blue-gray dust from the impact, almost blinding him. He barely saw his assailant lunging towards him, narrowly avoiding the final blow. Two figures, completely covered in blood and dust, rolled out of the cloud, trying to get and stay on top of each other to finish the other off. The observers could barely tell them apart - in fact, even Noisette wasn't sure who her Noise was!

Suddenly, one of the figures was yanked off the stage by an unseen force, and with a sickening crack, his neck was broken and he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Immediately, the uncanny tendrils that had covered the studio started to recede, releasing their captives and returning the set to its former glory, if slightly color shifted.

Noisette stepped forward, a little nervous. "Theo?" she asked, shakily. The remaining figure turned to her and sighed with relief. "Noisette, are you all right?" he exclaimed, rushing up to her. Noise and Noisette hugged, and Dougie Jones ran to his master's side and started to heal him. The rest of the cast also gathered around him, generally asking about his well-being. Noise assured them all that all he needed now was a shower, a change of clothes, and some fresh makeup, and he'd be ready to start filming again.

However, the little Noisy was acting slightly odd. He tried to call attention to the body that was lying in the dust not three yards away. Noisette picked the little creature up and hugged him. "Aww, are you worried he's gonna hurt daddy again?" she asked. "Don't worry," Noise reassured them, "I'll make sure nobody ever sees that - that - THING, ever again!" The two decided to return home to get cleaned up and recover, and left the set, with a squirming Noisy in tow.

Later that night, Peddito returned to the studio. Something still felt off about the whole situation. He inspected the blue-gray, bloody corpse carefully, trying to see if Doise could have POSSIBLY faked his death - but no. The body was real, and stone-cold dead. So what felt so wrong? He looked up - and if he could have died again, he would have from the shock.

Standing in front of him was another phantom. He wore the same clothes he had in life, permanently tinted the color of Doise's stones, cape and costume. Under his mask, his face was completely blacked out. Peddito couldn't see his expression, but he could hear him as he asked, "What... happened? Why does my head hurt so much... who are you?" Peddito tensed up and took a fighting stance. "Don't play dumb with me, Doise! You might have followed me into the afterlife, but I'll make sure you burn - "

They were interrupted by a Noisy loudly climbing in through a window. The wee beastie ran straight towards the body and started rubbing against his face, looking straight at Peddito. The phantom gently but swiftly scooped the critter up, exclaiming, "No, don't mess with that! He could still - " he stopped short. If he had had blood left to run cold, it would have. "No," he muttered, barely able to get the word out, "it can't be!"

Pulling the fresh yellow suit on, Doise laid Noise's extensive collection of makeup on the bathroom counter and looked in the mirror as he put on his disguise, laughing triumphantly. The cast, the crew, the bosses, the wife, even Peddito - he had tricked them ALL!

Blind Man's Bluff

OH THIS IS GOOD. Send shivers down my spine, dang! Doise you sneaky little motherf- Oh, Peddito you got tricked, all of you got tricked actually, oh the poor Noisey...

If you're willing to continue to continue the story I'm willing to read more 👀 It has a really interisting premise

Glad that my work inspired others! :D

He doesn't regret anything.

Conveniently your story also answers this ask that has been laying in my inbox for a while.Double thanks! :D

#pizza tower #doise #peddito #noise #pizza tower noise #Blind Mans Bluff #whoops peddito messed up

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woman-respecter · 2 months ago

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I’m Mizrahi and akajustmerry is just your regular Arab antisemite. I was going to be level headed about this but I am going to be a massive cunt instead.

Any Arab who says their family fought against Zionism is an antisemite. When Mizrahi Jews faced an actual genocide at the hands of Arab countries and forced into Israel (the popular belief is that WE CHOSE TO LEAVE so let that sink in), it was and is still considered anti Zionism. Why? Because most Arabs and Muslims in general have effectively and brilliantly absorbed their antisemitism into “ANTI ZIONISM” since the beginning so no, they can’t possibly ever be antisemitic when Israel is soooo bad and mean and evil :(

If you look at akajustmerry’s account, you will see no sort of self reflection. Arabs have been babied so much by the West that they will never stop to consider the possibility that they can be antisemitic. The typical response is “We’re semites”. Losing all common sense because they refuse to be held accountable. I have lost my fucking mind and been in countless fights with Arabs/Muslims because they refuse to acknowledge that they have oppressed us and they continue to. I know you’re a white Jew in America who probably don’t feel like it’s your place to talk about these things but Mizrahi Jews need your help. Seriously. What you’re dealing with since October 7th has been Soviet antisemitism mixed with Arab antisemitism.

Celebrities wearing those red hand pins “in honor of Palestine”. Girl Arabs have been haunting Mizrahim with red hands since forever. They did it to us during the Farhud, for example. It’s classic blood libel. There’s a joke that Arab antisemites are obsessed with dogs (their go to insult for “Zionists”). Well, they’re obsessed with telling us we have blood on our hands. It is so important that you read and educate yourself about Arab/Islamic antisemitism.

Going back to akajustmerry’s account, you will immediately see a HUGE issue. What is it you may ask? Well, they don’t believe in peace. They believe in a one state solution where Israel is destroyed and Israelis “face the consequences of their inherently evil behavior” aka be genocided again. Their entire account is filled with hatred against Israelis, wanting them be punished and killed, believing in CLASSIC antisemitic conspiracies that are INHERENTLY ANTISEMITIC such as ZOG (ZIONIST OCCUPIED GOVERNMENT). They believe this is okay because Israelis are “white Europeans” but at least half of Israelis (and most “Jews of color”) are Mizrahi who they forcibly removed from the Arab world, claiming we were all Zionists. But to acknowledge this means that they have to own up to their wrongs. so we may be here forever. A lot of us were Zionists but some of us were anti Zionist as communists and that meant NOTHING because all of us paid the price and it’s not the fault of Zionism. It was your classic case of “ugh, the Jews don’t want to be citizens of our countries, they’re scheming behind our backs and are only loyal to themselves”. Because to be Jewish is to be Zionist to Arabs. People don’t realize this but in the Muslim world, Israel and Zionism and Jews are one. which makes sense because most Jews are Zionist. we have integrated Zionism as a major part of us. Let’s not lie. Israel is very important to Jews. More than half of the world’s Jewish population lives there. so their convenient anti Zionism ends up encompassing all of us hence the inevitable antisemitism. The fact that they won’t self reflect or even put up a front where they hide their antisemitism and pretend to care about being accidentally antisemitic to the good ones SAYS A LOT. Akajustmerry got an anon accusing them of being antisemitic and their response was ZIONIST!!! and that was that. When any Jew you don’t like is a Zionist, well. What are you?

Lastly. All I have to say is. there are HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF ARABS. there are OVER A BILLION MUSLIMS. does this ever happen naturally? no. it was through colonization and genocide. they are no stranger to that. and yet Israel is bad? I wouldn’t have any problems with them hating Israel if they were at least honest and fair. They are no stranger to people doing bad things in their name. There are a fuckton of terrorist groups and extremists (majorly fucking up the Middle East btw) who are Muslim/Arab and many many of them are proudly supported by other Muslims/Arabs. To single out Israel is batshit insane. Mizrahi Jews in Europe (for example France) are facing some huge problems because the much larger Muslim population transported their antisemitism problem there. Think Sarah Halimi, Ilan Halimi. The second intifada enabled Muslim extremists in France to create a wave of antisemitism in response to “supporting Palestinians”. Of course any Jew would have to be insane to think Muslims are our enemy. So why are Arabs and Muslims allowed to think that of us, of Israelis and Israel and Zionists in particular? That will never be normal. Wait guys I think it’s…antisemitic….

They always say we cry antisemitism. If you spoke Arabic you’d know Arabic social media is just straight up saying yahud (jew in arabic but casually used as a slur by like everyone) instead of Zionist. They don’t even pretend. Al Jazeera knows their audience and just says yahud when talking about Israel/Israelis/Zionists.

So yeah to pick apart Jews and to say batshit insane things like anything about Israel that’s positive is propaganda. Well that’s fucking insane. it’s a complete denial of reality where Israel and Zionism is not important to the vast majority of Jews. current anti Zionism (and anti Zionism in general) has always been about ignoring reality. Because the common belief in order to pretend you’re not antisemitic JUST ANTI ZIONIST is that well only a few Jews (the bad ones) are Zionist therefore we aren’t the bad guys. but also everyone’s a Zionist because of the Zionist machine since the ZIOS (slur created by David Duke the KKK guy) control the world.

this is a long ask and i don’t 100% agree w every part of it but yeah i think ur right about how oppressed mizrahi jews have been, mostly by arab communities, and how it seems we aren’t allowef to talk about it. amd i absolutely would not be surprised if “fighting zionism” for that person entailed making lebanese mizrahi miserable or worse. i think also it’s funny when these people pretend they care about mizrahi when they can act like ur noble savages oppressed by the evil “white” ashkenazi jews when they are supporting the people who persecuted mizrahi jews most (not that u aren’t also oppressed within the jewish community at times, it’s just a less deadly oppression than literal murder etc)

#ask

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