#miles writes shit

[promisingyounglady]

stranger. | BB x Reader

SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.

PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

You pant, breathing heavily

“W-What’s your name again?”

A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.

He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.

He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.

You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.

He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”

You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.

“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.

You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.

“Bradley”

He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.

“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”

You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.

“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.

You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”

His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze

“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.

You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.

“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.

You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.

“What’s your name?”

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #14

"You foolish, stupid child," Vlad hisses, pinning Danny to the wall. Danny's eyes turn green as he wraps both his fists around the one Vlad has clenched in his collar, his feet dangling in the air. Vlad leans in, his own eyes burning red.

"When, exactly, did you plan on telling me your biological father was Bruce Wayne?" he says furiously.

Danny's hands drop in surprise. "W-What?" he gasps.

Vlad drops him unceremoniously and he lands on the floor in a heap. Vlad claws at the air in frustration.

"Don't lie to me, boy." Vlad says, omitting his often used possessive "my" in front of "boy".

"How do you know that?" Danny asks warily, propping himself up. He watches Vlad push a shaking hand through his hair. The man looks down at him before dropping in an ungainly squat beside him.

"Of all the sperm donors, Bruce Wayne, Daniel? Really?" The man asks, despairingly.

"I didn't exactly choose him, Vlad."

"No, I suppose you didn't."

"Seriously," Danny says, watching the man rock back on his heels as a growing pit forms in his stomach. "How did you know about him?"

Vlad's mouth twists bitterly. "Because he now knows about you."

"What do you—"

"Vladdy! Danno! What are the two of you doing on the floor?" Jack flops down beside them, a tray of freshly prepared fudge in his hands. "We having a heart-to-heart boys? Let me in on this!"

"Jack," Vlad says. "If you truly want to have a heart-to-heart with your son, I suggest you tell him the real reason I've come over today."

Jack's face falls.

"Vlad," Maddie says from behind him. "Thank you for coming. We're grateful for all you've done, but I think we can handle it from here."

"Madeline," Vlad says, rushing to his feet. "I must insist—"

"And I must insist you see yourself out," Maddie smiles tightly. "You know where the door is, don't you?"

"Mads," Jack says gently, looking between the two.

"I can show him out," Danny says, getting up as well.

"That's alright, Danny," Maddie says. "Why don't you go get your sister? We need to have a talk...as a family."

Danny glances at Vlad.

"Now, Danny," Maddie says. Danny heads for the stairs, pit growing ever larger.

--

The next time they meet it is Danny who has Vlad pinned, the gaudy chandelier above him shaking with the force of his rage.

"You should've told me," Danny growls.

"I thought your parents had you informed," Vlad says, utterly unbothered by the teen cracking what is thankfully not a load-bearing wall of his mansion. "Honestly Daniel, we could throw around allegations of deception on both sides, particularly mine as I assume you've known for quite some time now, if not the entire time, about your father hmm?"

Danny's eyes flick away in an obvious tell.

"Yes, I thought as much. But rather than whinging about being blindsided, I suggest we focus our energy on the solution."

Danny drops Vlad, barely biting back a snarl when the man lands gracefully on both feet.

"Which is?" Danny asks.

"First of all, your well-meaning but frankly moronic parents seem to believe that they can make a case for your custody without the assistance of my legal team. It is in both of our best interests to dissuade them of this."

"They don't like feeling indebted, Mom in particular."

"Well, to be crude for a moment Daniel, tough shit. Yes," Vlad says in response to Danny's widening eyes, "I said it. Bruce Wayne has the best of the best on his payroll and your parent's rinky-dink attorney from the local practice won't stand a chance against Friedman & Sons. Especially once he establishes paternity."

"He can do that?" Danny asks. "I mean I'm almost eighteen, can't I just refuse?"

"The keyword here, Daniel, is almost. As in, you are not. The judge can take your wishes into consideration, but I suspect Wayne will make a case for an unsafe living environment alongside his paternity to win his petition for full custody."

"Un-unsafe living environment?" Danny sputters. Vlad eyes the boy dryly before gesturing to all of him, currently clad in silver and black hazmat. Danny drops the transformation with a wince.

"In fact, I suspect that's the main reason the man filed in the first place," Vlad continues. "Lord knows he doesn't need anymore heirs to fight over his fortune once he passes—"

"Jesus, Vlad,"

"—so I believe he did some digging and found your home to be, well, wanting. On paper, Daniel, your parents sound eccentric at best, dangerous at worst. Pull the right strings, and hospital records just fall into laps. He probably thinks he's rescuing you." Vlad sneers. "If only he knew how quick you are to spit in the face of one offering you a comfortable and wealthy home."

"Fuck off," Danny says. "Is that what this is about? If you can't have me, no one can?"

Vlad rolls his eyes. "Come now, Daniel. Are you really intending to keep up this pretense?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We agreed a long time ago that no matter the nature of our quarrel, we would leave the Justice League out of it," Vlad says, taking a menacing step forward. "You think I, running in the circles I do, would have no knowledge of Bruce Wayne's alter-ego?" He takes another step, voice rising. "I have avoided drawing The Batman's attention for years, no matter how often our paths crossed. I stayed under his radar for decades, and now, BECAUSE OF YOU, I AM ABOUT TO BE RUINED."

With a creak and a groan, the chandelier drops, landing between them with a crash. Danny coughs from the dust as Vlad takes a heaving, calming breath.

"Then why get involved at all?" Danny asks, staring at the ground.

Vlad sighs, clapping his hands twice. Several ghosts dressed in service uniforms fly out the woodwork, gathering up bits of chandelier as others begin to mop.

"Because, little badger," Vlad says, walking away from the mess. "If we lose this, he'll have you in the palm of his hands. Which is infinitely worse."

Entering the kitchen, he pulls an open bottle of white out of the kitchen fridge and pours himself a glass, throwing a Fiji water to Danny who takes it for the peace offering it is.

"He won't."

"Won't what, Daniel? Please speak in full sentences."

"Won't have me," Danny says, letting a thin coat of frost spread over the bottle. He tips the freezing cold water into his mouth and wipes his face with his sleeve, mostly to see Vlad grimace.

"Why, because you'll run away if he wins? Until you turn eighteen? I won't have you fail to complete your education because of a cockamamie scheme, Daniel—"

"Because I have a solution, Vlad, one that doesn't involve the courts or running away."

"And what is that, exactly, Daniel?"

--

"You're going to leave my family alone."

"Danny," Mr. Wayne says, blinking in surprise at the boy on his doorstep and miles away from Illinois.

"I mean it," Danny says firmly. "You're going to drop your petition and whatever smear campaign you were planning on and leave the Fentons alone."

"Danny...why don't you come inside?"

Danny takes a step back from the manor's large doors. "You want a relationship with me? Brute force isn't the answer."

Bruce takes in the teenager, lanky but almost to his eye level. His eyes are clear and sharp, his demeanor forcibly calm.

"I debated whether going through the court was the right thing to do," Bruce says slowly, matching calm with calm. "But I wanted to be above board."

"Because my adoption wasn't?" Danny says, arms crossed. "Yeah, I'm aware. Kinda hard to adopt a kid that doesn't legally exist. And I know what you're going to say, the Fentons should've reported me to the system, but they didn't do it because I begged them not to. Because I didn't want my biological parents to find me."

"Danny..."

"You can swing your dick around and get your way, exactly the way I thought you would do things," Danny says, "Or you can have a relationship with me on my terms. A relationship where I don't despise you because you took me away from the people who've loved me no matter their faults."

"You're asking me to choose your happiness over your safety." Bruce says carefully.

"That's bullshit," Danny says. "I had a lab accident when I was fourteen and went directly against my parents' instructions. They trusted me, and I made a mistake."

"It's not a matter of trust. You were a child, Danny, and you almost died." Bruce says, not bothering to feign ignorance. Footsteps echo behind him.

"Bruce?" A voice calls. "Is that..?"

"Your son did die," Danny says. "He took a flight with your credit card to Ethiopia and got blown up. I bet you trusted him too."

Bruce reels back as a hand lands on his shoulder, the other on the door.

"Whoa, whoa, uh, Danny, right? I'm Tim, I'm—"

"I know who you are," Danny says, clenching his fists. Powering through the hurt he is causing. "I didn't come here to point out what a total hypocrite you are. I just want you to back off. And if you give me your number, we can text and I'll come to Gotham for Thanksgiving or the ski chalet in Vermont or your villa in where-the-fuck-ever and you can be Uncle Bruce that I maybe even tolerate being around once in a while. Just leave my family alone."

"Bruce, what is he talking about?" Tim asks. "Back off of what?"

"Your Dad is suing my parents for full custody," Danny says when it becomes clear Bruce isn't answering.

"What?" Tim hisses, turning to Bruce. "That isn't what we talked about!"

"Danny. I..."

"Here," Danny says, thrusting an index card forward that he's scrawled his phone number and email onto. On the other side is the past participle conjugation for 'venir'. "I won't answer until you drop the custody petition. Which I expect you to do by tomorrow morning."

"Done," Tim says, stepping past Bruce and taking the card. "Give me about noon to get it all squared away with the lawyers. Do you have a hotel? A way home? I'd be happy to reimburse your flight and accommodation."

"Overstepping already."

"Fair enough," Tim says coolly, raising his hands. "Our lawyers will reach out when it's settled."

"Great. Bye." Danny says, turning to leave. He waits until he hears the manor door close behind him before pulling out his cell phone.

Ring!

Ring!

"Hello?"

"It's done."

"What's done? Again, little badger, full sentences, I beg of you."

[lokorum]

so....................i've read unraveled the other day.................... and then ive re-read it.........and now im in the middle of re-reading it again????

honestly cant promise that im not gonna keep coming back to it until someone would steal my phone and then i'll just log in from the pc lets be real here (¬‿¬ ) but!!! what i wanted to say is that its just such a good fic?? so well written? it has all the right words in just the right order and i can and will argue till late night that it healed part of myself that i had no idea existed. these descriptions of hugs??? gonna stay with me untill the very end  (*_ _)人  

and drawing something is the least i can do to show just how much your work means, @2btheanswertothequestion  (/▿＼ )

"unraveled" became my spiderverse canon since the moment ive finished chapter one and it will stay this way!!! thank you so so much for all the long hours and all the hard work you clearly had put into it!! you're amazing!! ♡

[jesbiblesworld]

If you're the type that genuinely gets upset that bl actors are in relationships with ppl other than their on screen partners, I need yall to (and I'm gonna touch your hand when I say this), find new hobbies outside of bl. Y'all have let yourselves get entirely too invested in these men to the point where you get genuinely upset and heartbroken, even ANGRY over them having other relationships, and that's not normal. None of them are doing anything wrong and treating a "dating scandal" the same as if they were found to kick puppies and punch orphans in their spare time is fuckin absurd

[rendevok]

The sensation of waking up next to you ❤️💙

+bonus doodle:

…and they mimir’d happily ever after the end. ❤️

(ID under cut!)

Miles is roused from sleep by sunlight shining on his face. Slowly, his eyes adjust to the light, until finally, his scope of awareness broadens to a body he had been sleeping on.

Page 2

Miles looks up to the figure that holds him, and upon seeing, his eyes widen in recognition.

Miles looks up to the figure that holds him, and upon seeing, his eyes widen in recognition.

The bottom panel of the page shows minimal details of a window shedding light onto the bed and blankets as seen from a higher view in the room.

Page 3

On the other side of the bed, Phoenix rests, his head propped by the headboard. His hair is messy from sleep, and his expression is thoughtful. The light of the morning highlights his features.

The sun shines through the blinds of the window.

Phoenix finally notices his observer, and turns to look at him.

Page 4

Phoenix takes Miles’ hand in his, and lifts it to gently kiss the ring on Miles’ finger. They both move to share a kiss, and their hands shift to hold one another. Miles’ ring sparkles in the sunlight.

Page 5

They link their fingers as they kiss, and the morning creates a quiet atmosphere around them.

They part, but remain close, their fingers fully interlocked. Phoenix greets “Good morning,” with a tender, loving expression as he looks at Miles. Miles’ own expression is soft, unguarded, and fixed on Phoenix.

Page 6

Phoenix and Miles settle back into their shared bed; the morning sun illuminates them. They both smile softly, seeming happy and at peace. Miles rests his head under Phoenix’s neck, and his hand on Phoenix’s chest. One of Phoenix’s hands rests over Miles’ own on his chest, while his other hand holds Miles closer, revealing a matching ring of his own. Both rings shine softly in the sunlight.

Bonus image

A small simple drawing of Phoenix and Miles having fallen asleep again while holding each other as in the final page of the comic.

End ID.]

[blueflipflops]

GUYS. GUYS. Had a thought. Anyone else remember that one post abt someone unexpectedly becoming friends with a punk adjacent(? Honestly cant remember) guy in their school and mentioned how she's starting her own patched jacket(??) and then he got so excited he ripped a patch from his own jacket and gave it to her??

THAT. But make it PunkFlower.

Just Miles in a patched jacket with some homemade ones along with some of Hobie's. Hobie getting excited to help Miles start his collection of patches that he ripped one off of his to start him with and they exchange patches from time to time. He gives advice on the care, repair and how to patch it up and—

[Edit: there's some additions to this idea here if y'all wanna check it out]

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Hellsitegenetics put a post on my dash and I couldt resist

[5h0w1sh]

SOUL EATER x SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

[scattered-under-moonlight]

I'm replaying the first Outlast and Its DLC and I live for the boys notes, Also the difference in their personalities is so funny to me

Miles: I'm a professional but I'm also stuck in hell so go fuck yourself

Waylon: I miss my wife and this might suck but that wont stop me from being articulate

[weirdfishy]

gotta urgent need for some not-quite-yet punkflower where hobie is chillin in some rubble post-(successful) battle all knackered out n miles is visiting (idk bc he just told his parents abt spiderman n it went well so he's bursting at the seems with love at being accepted n all yea? he's gotta tell someone, and why not him? why not hobie? it's no one else but hobie he's gotta tell, if he's being honest with himself [denile is not a river in his egypt, ok pav?] so yeah, he finds himself on 138) n catches the tail end of the battle, tracks down where hobie decided to make a couch outta concrete and lands in front of him, buzzing with cheezy lovey dovey feelins of elation, top o' the fucken world, and asks on abt hobie, rambling until hobie just lifts a hand, a silent ask for help up, (always asking for connection always makin sure they're actually there) n miles, have i mentioned he's happy? he's straight up a sap, so he takes that hand.

he takes that hand gently, bending at the waist a bit, dramatically sweeping back his other arm, bowing, for hell's sake, n plants a kiss on the back of hobie's hand, nice n proper, with a cheeky wink to boot (he'd finally fixed the eye mechanisms last week, thanks to penny), before pulling up new london's own spiderman chest to chest with a bright laugh that puts a different kind of stars in hobie's eyes, half dancing half belting out a song in spanish he doesn't quite understand but knows all the words to (it's some continental dialect, nothing his mami speaks, but would filter out the headphones of that kid in his building he walked w in middle school everyday)

before the sirens start getting closer n hobie can feel the warmth of miles-- the warmth of his smile, his hair that's still sparking from transdimensional travel, his arms, chest, laughter, everything, n all at once it pulls every affectionate n pining bit of hobie to the surface, if he weren't wearing his mask his blush would be so impossibly visible it's straight mad how much hobie loves n adores miles, how much seeing miles be happy lights hobie's whole fucking world

and oh, hobie's never seen a god he didn't punch, never believed in any one he couldn't, but right now, with his fingers entwined with miles', aches leaving his bones like he's never felt his left shoulder twinge the second it drops below 21 just because miles just yelled fuck off to the approaching pigs, he could fall to his knees n swear pious fealty to milesmilesmiles.

but hobie is cool (never has a label stuck to him like the one miles has given him), and his real, livin n breathing god is starting to ramble, so hobie webs them upupup, heat along his back as god wraps arms around him, breath on his neck as home weaves tales into the leather wrapping it.

then miles hears hobie's stomach growl, so he starts pulling them away from the path of what he knows is towards hobie's flat, and towards what he swears is the only good puerto rican food in the whole of hobie's haunt, his excitement steamrolling over his usual stuttering spanish, exchanging shouts n jeers with everyone behind the counter

bc everyone knows him, like miles has lived here, earth-138, new london, his whole life, like hobie brown being dragged into the shop every other week by miles morales to get the same two plates (n an extra something for miles to gush over n hobie to taste) is how the rest of this life will go, like hobie n miles are together, in a way that the unsubtle looks the owner's kid at the register is aiming at miles' left hand are correct, but don't involve stuffy socially religious systems like marriage

but they're not, as much as hobie would love to kiss miles, gaze into his eyes for ages, hear his laughter, his off-key singing, his scritch-scritch of something on paper everyday-- bc he can't go abt this like he does everyone else, can't do it with half a foot out the door n a shrug as agreed; it's gotta be both feet on the floor, n it's gotta be for the rest of this life, so he'll take what he can get, and he'll take the distance n devotion, take the faith n the heartache. take what he can get from his god, glad to be touched by his god, glad to be loved by his god, across universes n the fall from his bed to the futon on the floor where miles decides to lay his head for choice holy nights

(hobie doesn't know miles is putting himself at the base of his god's shrine, hoping for his deity to fall into his arms, spikes n all, (ready, so ready to tear apart dimensions again for hobie, to bleed and cry n go to war for hobie) fingers splaying on the side of the mattress warmwarmwarm after hobie starts snoring, before they slip down softly, a prayer imparting from the pads, memorizing the patterns of his god's breath, the smell of the room, the borrowed shirt he wears, the sounds of a second city he calls home, thrumming full with a bass note plucked from an electric guitar, usually shaky hands sure n still picking out a different shape to hobie's eyebrow piercing, deftly screwing a star onto the bar. miles brings offerings to his god in pins n patches on clothing, stickers n torn out sketches decorating a shrine)

so they'll song n dance in new york, in new london; learning each other's cities, earths, haunts, people, arts, each other, like new scars for the collection- permanent and signs of living, odes to loving and protecting.

chest to chest, fingers entwined, warmth in the skies above cities, right on the edge of it all until they fall together, eyes wide open, gods broken down into blood and teeth and lovelovelove

not-quite-yet 2 - 3

. my ko-fi 💛

ao3 link

[teecupangel]

Hi teecup, I hope ur having a great day/noon/night!

Forgive me if the things i'm about to say don't make much sense. It's been a vey, very, very, difficult time for me and my countrymen here, and my ability to make coherent sentences have declined drastically. So, yeah... BUT! That doesn't matter haha.

Anyways, I had a thought. And i'm not even sure how or why i got it but.... hear me out now...

Our boy, Desmond, gets thrown back in time as usual, same old same old, right? Exept, this time he doesn't end up in the Big Three™'s time-line. He ends up in Al-Mualim's time. *insert mind-blown emoji here cuz i can't find it rn*

And ik that i'm not a certified AC Expert like u and many others, and i haven't really finished any of the AC games yet (i've only seen bits of AC III and have only started AC 2, I also haven't finished AC 1)

But I do know that he wasn't really that creepy and evil in his youth/ b4 he became The Old Man of the Moutain, so i was thinking maybe Desmond ends up in that era of Al Mualim or is it Rashid al-Din Sinan? I know that he's based on a real historical figure but i'm not so sure if he's called that in-game?

And knowing Desmond, he'd probably get the urge to kill Rashid (i hope i'm using the name correctly) the time he figures shit out and connect that dots. But he would end up not doing that, cuz u know, it might fuck up the time-line and Altaïr might end up not being born, creating a domino-effect.

I want Desmond to meet Rashid before he starts to becom the Al Mualim we know today, so that Desmond can see how he was b4 the evants of AC 1.

Maybe Rashid's an arrogant ass, or a nerdy loser, or a popular assassin- who knows! The possibilites are endless!! (or maybe he's an obsessive bastard who gets obsessed with Desmond cuz he's just full of mysteries and wonders :Dc )

And blah blah blah, plot here, plot there, Isu-bullshit this, time shenanigans that, and BOOM they meet.

And romance ensues? :3 (romace wil absolutely ensue :}}} )

NOW, BEFORE- BEFORE YOU TIE ME TO A STAKE AND BURN ME ALIVE FOR THIS- i think it'd be a cute idea, and who knows? maybe Rashid was hot in his prime *insert lenny face cuz even after all these years i still don't know how to type it and is too lazy to cop paste it* and maybe he liked to solve mysteries and had a thing for the unexplainable. And Desmond is the most unexplainable, most bizarre thing to have graced the earth :33333.

Now that i've got this idea out of my system i'm gonna go pray for the down fall of my coutry's shit for brain, good for nothing military government/hj.

bye! *evaporates*

I hope you’re doing alright and I’m sorry that it took two months before I could answer your ask TTATT

As far as I know, he was only called Al Mualim because of legal reasons but Rashid ad-Din Sinan was the leader of the Assassins in Masyaf during 1191 so it’s safe to assume Al Mualim is AC’s version of Rashid (historically he died in 1193, not 1191.

.

Okay. We can make this work.

We put Desmond at around the same time he’s the recruit and we make it hard for him to realize he’s Al Mualim until it’s too late by doing one simple thing:

Desmond doesn’t know Al Mualim’s real name.

He always knew it as Al Mualim. As far as he knew, Al Mualim was his actual name.

Then he remembered that Al Mualim can mean mentor and bangs his head on the nearest flat surface.

His mission has been clear from the start.

Become an Assassin, take out Al Mualim before he does shit, find Umar and adopt him then play matchmaker so Altaïr would be born.

And no.

Desmond wasn’t going to think about the whole “can you truly be sure that the person who will be born will be Altaïr if you change the circumstances of his conception?”

Yeah.

His head hurts just thinking about it so he won’t.

For now, he’ll focus on his training while keeping a look out for anyone who gives of Al Mualim vibes.

What’s the Al Mualim vibes?

Manipulative old man vibes.

The problem is…

Rashid is one of the recruits in the same batch as Desmond and he becomes Desmond’s closest friend.

And there was no way Desmond would ever be friends with a future power hungry asshole like Al Mualim.

No way.

.

The way their relationship becomes romantic really depends on the kind of personality young Rashid would have.

A nerdy loser who starts making a name for himself because of his intelligence and tactical mind would start off as the kid Desmond sorta looks after. When he starts to show that his strength lies in making plans and quick judgments, he becomes the man whispering on Desmond’s ear. Providing plans and suggestions while giving Desmond a heads up on the less savory words people say about him. Desmond would never think this Rashid is Al Mualim because he’s nice and truly do want to help Desmond. This is also how Rashid would show his love for Desmond and, really, Desmond would think they’re bros and when he realizes that Rashid actually loves him, he’d think “oh, I am Ezio’s descendant”

An arrogant ass Rashid would butt heads with Desmond but Desmond would find himself fond of the man because he reminds him of AC1 Altaïr. This is the Rashid who would definitely be counted as a tsundere and their relationship would start when Rashid just flatout tells Desmond that he wants to do unspeakable things to him while they’re arguing. Desmond is offended because “tugging on my pigtails doesn’t work in real life, dumbass!” and Rashid is just “???” because what the fuck are pigtails??? Lots of awkwardness until Desmond realize that butting heads with Rashid is really how they flirt.

Now. Popular Assassin Rashid is more on the side of polite but is absolutely Desmond’s rival. Whatever it is, the two of them are always competing. Unlike the arrogant ass version, this Rashid is always nice to Desmond. The whole “no hard feelings” and pure competitiveness are what drives their relationship. This is the one where the two of them spar privately one time and things happen. They would try to distant themselves from one another for a bit until they finally talk it out. Rashid honestly didn’t think he loved Desmond until the whole ‘after-sparring’ thing.

Whichever you pick as Rashid’s background, he will become obsessed with Desmond but it’s more on the side of “I will do everything to make Desmond happy” which is good for Desmond but not really good for anyone against him.

.

Desmond is the one who adopts Umar in this one and Umar imprints on him like a baby duckling to a mama duckling. Everyone actually assumed Umar is his bastard son. Desmond ignores it even though he’s only like… a decade and a half older than Umar.

Rashid definitely treats him like Desmond’s son. He’s Umar’s favorite of all of Desmond’s friends.

And really, Desmond should have seen that as a hint of Rashid’s ‘future’.

Speaking of the future.

He’s been looking for Al Mualim this entire time and he has his suspects (Rashid, however, is not on the list) but honestly?

He’s just waiting for the person who would be picked as the one to lead the expansion to Masyaf since that would be Al Mualim.

Desmond has, unfortunately, fucked up the timeline so badly that the person chosen to lead the expansion?

It was Desmond.

.

Sidebar: Faheem would be that cute younger brother who turns grumpy when he grows up. Desmond will forever grieve the lost of little cute Faheem. Faheem is always embarrassed when Desmond talked about his ‘past’.

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok ok but jayroytim😏

this feels especially funny if brudick happens in the background and oliver hates the fact he's now in-laws with bruce

so i have to regretfully admit i'm not really a fan of JayRoy, or at least i'm not a fan of the popular version of JayRoy. i think JayRoy could work and would be a lot of fun! but i have *zero* interest in New-52!JayRoy (or New-52!Roy in general) or rlly any version of Jason and Roy on the Outlaws together. both bc i'm a pre-Flashpoint stan at heart. usually i can stand newer content for ship fodder but for these two oh man it grinds my gears how badly Roy got fucked over-

BUT BUT. that doesn't mean i think the ship has *no* merit. because Jason and Roy *do* have some fodder in pre-Flashpoint. they meet briefly when Jason is Robin, and then again when Jason is Red Hood during that Outsiders arc where Black Lightning is in prison. so! there's definitely material to work with. especially playing into the more fucked up nature of Roy knowing Jason when he was Robin. i think it's cute if Jason had a childhood crush on Roy. and maybe Roy even thought Jason was kind of cute, a spunky kid with a lot of energy and passion. then with Jason as Red Hood, Roy openly doesn't trust him and doesn't like that they're working with him. Jason is just a run-of-the-mill villain with a nasty kill count. and sure, Roy's got a record of tangling with people more on the villain side of things, but even going near the Red Hood feels like a step too far.

adding Tim to the mix is really fun. bc honestly it gives Roy some kind of a fetish for guys who have been Robin and i find that to be delightful. like, even if Roy just sees Jason as the Red Hood, he can't *quite* let go of the image of Jason as Robin. like it just won't get out of Roy's system ever since Jason came back. i think, if i were to write these three together, i'd have Roy and Tim get together first of all people, just because Roy is trying really hard to stop thinking about Jason as Robin, especially now that Jason is older and a little meaner. he's full of guilt about it, and he can't talk to Dick because he's still not sure where Dick's feelings fall about the whole Jason thing so. he goes to Tim instead, thinking if he fucks a different Robin, maybe he'll get it out of his system. Tim's pretty and he's just old enough that it's not *too* morally questionable for Roy to seek him out. it takes a while for Roy to work up the nerves because he and Tim aren't particularly close, so how do you even approach that conversation to make it look organic. it's awkward and Tim can definitely tell something is up but hey, who's going to say no to Roy Harper offering sex? one of Dick's best friends? especially if we put this right after Kon and Bart's death where Tim is just. sort of lonely and seeking companionship. in some ways,, Roy would remind him of Kon, just a little. that sort of cocky attitude and snarky smile.

i would add Jason in by having JayTim happen alongside RoyTim. it's not like Roy and Tim are serious enough to be exclusive and Tim knows Roy is sleeping around, so Tim ends up in a weird hatefucking situation with Jason, which definitely was not supposed to happen. Jason just has a damning way of getting under Tim's skin and won't stop bothering Tim until he gets some kind of attention from Tim. and somehow Jason is interesting enough for Tim to cave. and he doesn't even think about the two relationships he's balancing until he happens to sleep with Jason after being with Roy the night before and there are still marks all over him and Jason does *not* like sharing. so when he interrogates Tim and gets nothing, he does the reasonable thing of stalking Tim to figure out who it is. and it just happens to be the guy Jason had a crush on as a kid.

i think Roy finding out he tried so hard to avoid Jason that he accidentally ended up with the same fuck buddy as Jason would be the funniest thing in the world. like it's not something he can run from anymore and he has to accept that. he tries to awkwardly ask what Tim even sees in the guy bc well, Jason's a killer and not known for being mentally stable. but he's also the guy who exonerated Black Lightning with no real motive besides just helping out. he's complicated and Roy doesn't know how to react. Tim just sort of shrugs bc how do you even explain Jason Todd and well, one thing leads to another and Tim ends up in the middle of the most emotionally charged threesome he's ever been in. love the idea of Jason and Roy using Tim as a toy while they work out their feelings for each other. to me that's the peak dynamic. Jason and Roy are pissed about liking each other and somehow, Tim got roped into things. their relationship is not healthy or normal whatsoever, but somehow, they end up balancing each other out nicely.

background BruDick is also hilarious tho. bc there is no one who hates Bruce more than Oliver and he'd be so annoyed that not only did Roy get tangled up with the Bats, but now everything is so weird their families are pretty tangled together and Oliver has to deal with Bruce a lot more than he wants to. and he's glaring daggers about it the whole time.

[true-blue-sonic]

To Make Amends

In which Silver and Tails talk out what happened in Sonic Rivals 2.

----

This isn’t precisely how Silver envisioned an alleged super genius would live.

The little workshop tucked away in the forest is nothing remarkable. It’s tiny and quaint, made of wood and metal sheets with a large water wheel spurring and prattling around on one side. In the light of the afternoon sun it looks charming enough, if it weren’t for the fact this place is supposed to be Tails’ bastion of knowledge where he invents new creations up the wazoo. The exterior of the place hardly looks impressive enough for that, Silver decrees. But Espio and Amy had assured him that in here, magic could happen: Tails is able to repair anything, they had said.

Hopefully also futuristic Extreme Gears made with materials that the past has never even seen.

Oh well. The only thing he has to lose is a race wherein he’s ended right in the stands with his Gear on the fritz, the hedgehog figures. Either Tails is able to repair the thing and all is well, or he isn’t and Silver’s got weeks left to find another solution before he’s going to partake in the competition. And thus the psychic flies over to the large metal doors on one side of the building, adorned with a logo of Tails’ namesakes. At least he knows he’s at the right place, a firm knock getting bonked against them.

“Coming!” resounds from inside, footsteps running over and the doors sliding open to reveal Tails.

…Whose eyes first widen as they meet Silver’s, before blinking, before furrowing into a deep frown.

“Silver,” the greeting comes. If Silver didn’t know better, he would describe it as icy.

“Hey,” the hedgehog nods back. “My Extreme Gear is broken and Amy and Espio said I just had to go to you so you could help me out.”

“Oh.” Tails makes very few attempts at moving out of the way. “Is that so.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It keeps twisting to the left when I want it to go straight,” Silver explains further.

Slowly blue eyes drop from glaring at him to the Gear in question. “Really now.”

“Yes,” the hedgehog agrees; the beginning of a long, long silence wherein he stands with his Gear under one arm and wherein Tails’ narrow-eyed leer has flitter back up to him to stare. Intriguing, Silver muses. And awkward. Apparently it’s not a custom to invite people into a house in the past, or something. Doesn’t fit with Amy altogether dragging him into her apartment the few times he paid her a visit, but whatever. “Should I put it inside so you can take a look?” he thus speaks up, giving the Gear a little hoist.

An awkward clearing of Tails’ throat follows. “Actually, I’m a bit… busy?”

“I can put it down so you can look at it when you’re not anymore, if you want. Amy and Espio said that you’ve always got things to do, but it’s still weeks before the race.” Manoeuvring the Gear so it doesn’t hit Tails right in the face as he enters Silver walks past the fox cub, studying the interior of the place with a hum. Lots of technology, and tables with gadgets and items galore strewn about on them, and in their midst a bright red vehicle that gives the hedgehog pause. “You own a plane?”

Tails comes rushing closer, all but throwing himself in front of the thing. “Well, it’s Sonic’s!” the response comes, a tad yelp-y. “But, uh… Maybe you should-!”

“That’s cool. I won’t put the Gear close to it, then,” Silver assures him. His Gear is big; he can’t fault Tails for being worried the plane is getting damaged, with how delicate and outdated it looks. So somewhere tucked away it is; like in the corner between two tables, that looks like a nice spot without anything nearby to break if it falls over. “There,” the hedgehog nods, placing his Gear down. “Do you need my help with anything for it?”

Turning around back to Tails he perks his ears up helpfully; except Tails is looking a tad… frazzled. Awkwardly the fox tugs at his gloves, mouth open as if he wants to say something yet nothing coming out. “Or is this not a good spot,” Silver figures the problem is.

“That’s not… Sorry,” Tails mumbles back. “But, uh… Perhaps it’s, well… a bit audacious to put your stuff down just like that while asking- uh, you know?”

Audacious, Silver muses. That means that he’s bold? Or something. “I don’t follow,” he speaks up, Tails swallowing. But something more dour and irked crosses the other’s face the longer he stares at Silver, twin tails flicking most irked behind his back.

“I mean that you’re just waltzing into my lab like this.”

“Amy and Espio said I could,” Silver naturally responds, because they did and told him Tails would be happy to help.

Even if the sight of the fox cub in front of him is, well, very much not that. “I don’t think they meant like this,” Tails grumbles back, whipping around to return to a table with a ton of stuff and trinkets strewn about on it. “Anyway, you’d best leave. The sooner I can concentrate, the sooner I can work on your Gear.”

“Great! Thanks,” Silver nods at him…

And no response follows, other than a huff and a shrug.

And even Silver can tell that’s not the reaction of someone more than happy to lend a hand.

“You’re annoyed, aren’t you?” the hedgehog speaks up slowly.

Tails tenses, just a bit. “Hmh.”

“If you’re too busy, I can just take the Gear to someone else. That is no problem.”

“That’s not… it.”

Right, Silver muses. That tells him absolutely nothing indeed. But there is something going on, and if it’s not the Gear, he can think of a handful of other things: either Tails is so busy that he’s just stressed, or he’s annoyed by Silver. And only one thing is something he can tackle.

“It’s something I did,” the hedgehog guesses next.

A deep sigh follows, Tails shooting a look over his shoulder. “Silver, I appreciate you’re trying to talk to me about this, but maybe you’d really better leave.”

“I want to know what’s going on,” Silver shoots back, arms crossing. How can he solve whatever it is if Tails won’t even tell him? But the fox turns away once more, fiddling with some of the stuff laying on his table.

“You don’t. It’s in the past.”

In the past… This is honestly the first time he’s ever talked to Tails face-to-face, so they don’t have a lot of past together. “Something about when we met?” Silver thus guesses next. Not much remarkable about that, except the fact the world was literally on the brink of destruction and the only person being even remotely helpful in that situation had been Espio…

Yet Tails tenses only more. “It is!” the hedgehog promptly figures. “What precisely?”

Shooting Silver a look that he’s received from many a person before and that always makes him bristle – it’s the “You’re so dense” look, the “Why are you not following us, what isn’t making sense about this to you, stop being so wilfully ignorant” kind of mocking leer that makes Silver see red – Tails scoffs. “I’m just saying that you’re walking in with a lot of audacity asking for me to repair your Gear after you stole my rings.”

And Silver blinks.

Oh, he remembers. Oh, yes. He did very much do that.

“I needed them,” he answers, running a finger over the glowing cyan mark on his other hand. Espio had come up with the plan; he’d looked altogether horrified by how Silver had been shambling along with trembling limbs and body swaying like it could collapse any second, his powers exhausted entirely. That collapse had been mere moments away if Silver hadn’t gotten the rings in time, even if the hedgehog had refused to tell his friend that lest Espio would be too worried. But he has to commend the chameleon for how efficiently that situation had been resolved… even if it apparently still leaves Tails bothered.

The fox’s eyes narrow even more. “And you called me small.”

“That’s not true. I called you a half-pint,” Silver helpfully jogs his memory. “Because you’re smaller than me. That’s quite obvious.”

…And apparently also the wrong thing to say, because Tails is looking altogether peeved.

Raising an eyebrow at the sharp teeth getting bared in his direction and the way the fox’s ears pin right against his head Silver opens his mouth for something to add; before faltering. He also doesn’t like being called a half-pint, and if anyone were to lay a finger on the things he rightfully collected he’d probably just murder them on the spot. Same with anyone idiotic enough to call him a half-pint, actually. “You’re mad about it,” he concludes instead, a scoff following.

“You could say that.”

Right. That is easy to figure out, honestly, but it does leave Silver wondering. “What did you need the rings for, actually?” he prods some more. If that’s not resolved yet, he can just go get a bunch of them right now!

“Knuckles and Rouge asked us for help to collect rings for their Emerald detector. Not that we were able to lend it in the end,” Tails grumbles back at him, whipping around to return to his tinkering and leaving Silver disappointed.

“I see… So getting you rings now to make up for it wouldn’t do much, huh?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” That’s one potential way to make amends down the drain, Silver figures. And asking Tails about what he wants seems risky, considering the altogether murderous way he pokes a screwdriver into his gadget. But then what… “I understand that you’re angry,” Silver tries a new angle. “I wouldn’t appreciate being called small either.”

Tails makes a noise not unlike an overheating kettle. “Then why did you say it?!”

“I was about to collapse and you were in my way,” Silver recounts, twitching his ears as Tails glares at him disbelievingly. “No, really. My powers were completely exhausted. You and Sonic had collected all of the rings in the area already, so taking them from you was my next best shot. It was either that or fainting and then the world would have been completely destroyed because I couldn’t have done anything to stop the Ifrit.”

“…Right.” With his angry movements slowing down Tails stares some more; up and down over Silver’s body before halting at the marks on his hands, brow furrowing. “What exhausted you so much?”

“Running around collecting Chao for days, mostly.”

“Did you not… sleep? Rest?”

“No!” Silver huffs; Espio had asked the same, with his opinion that Silver had been pushing himself far too much clear to even the hedgehog, and yet the agitation inside Silver had spiked up in the exact same way as it does now. “How could I rest, when every moment I’m not working is one wherein more Chao could have been stolen and the chances that the Ifrit would destroy us all could have become bigger?”

A hum follows at that. “I see what you mean, even if you can’t know for sure that would have happened… But then, why didn’t you ask if you could have some rings? If it was that important?” Tails inquires, more pensively.

Promptly it’s Silver’s turn to bristle. “Because we’re not friends? Or on good terms?”

“So?”

“So you wouldn’t have given them to me because we’re not friends or on good terms? And you were already collecting them for someone else?” Silver repeats, spelling it out slowly. Jeez, he thought Tails was smart.

Yet one of Tails’ ears flicks. “Silver, even so, if you tell me that you’re actively dying and need rings, I’d have shared some with you. Maybe that’s hard to see in such a moment, but…”

“It would have earned you nothing.” And it wouldn’t; if anything, it would have earned Tails the ire from Knuckles and Rouge for not having enough rings to help them out, Silver figures. Although now maybe he earned their ire for not having any, even if there’s a reason for that. Hmm.

Slowly Tails shakes his head. “It would have earned me the knowledge I helped someone in need. Is that not something good to achieve? Do you not get happy when you’re able to lend others a hand?”

And Silver’s eyes widen.

“Oh. If you put it like that…” the hedgehog mumbles, gaze flicking up to the ceiling. If he had rings and someone came up to him proclaiming they needed them imminently¸ he would have given them all away… Heck, if he didn’t have rings, he’d have torn the planet asunder if that was needed to find someone. Even for a stranger… “I know what you mean. Knowing that you helped someone… It’s a nice feeling,” he adds.

Something just a bit more warm flickers over Tails’ face, though the tiniest twitch of a smile on there dissipates moments later. “But now you just took them from me.”

“And I called you a half-pint,” Silver recounts further. “And you’re angry about both.”

A scoff follows. “You could say that,” Tails sighs back; and with that, he turns around to return to tinkering once more.

That leaves Silver, pensively staring at the ceiling. Tails is mad, and Silver understands why Tails is mad, and if he’d been in such a situation himself he’d also be mad, and if he’d been mad, he would have appreciated it if…

“I’m sorry,” he speaks up. “For insulting you. And stealing your rings.”

The flicking of twin tails freezes. “…You are?” Tails asks, turning around slowly as Silver nods.

“I hurt you. And especially if you’d just have given them to me if asked, that’s… not nice of me. So, sorry.”

Blue eyes regard him warily, Tails’ head tipping to the side. “Would you have been sorry if I hadn’t told you about this?”

“Probably not. But I am now, and that means I won’t say it again. You’re not even that much smaller than I am, really, so I was wrong about that too,” Silver shrugs back earnestly.

For a few seconds Tails just stares. A prickle of discomfort goes over Silver’s spine at it; was that also the wrong thing to say…?

…But then a snort follows. “You’re a really interesting person,” the fox remarks, with a smile on his face; but this is a true smile, Silver is sure of it. “Apology accepted. Promise that if you ever find yourself in such a situation again, you’ll ask us to help you?”

Ask for help… He didn’t ask Espio for help, not at first, the hedgehog muses. Only after extensively running into each other with the chameleon relentlessly following him did they even get to talking. But he’d asked then: if Espio would help or keep getting in his way, and his not-yet-a-friend had chosen the former. And that had made them be friends, the working together and the aid Espio had given him when he needed it most. “If I ask you for help, will that make us be friends?” Silver inquires, Tails hesitating for a second before nodding.

“I think so. If you’d like that.”

“People in the past are nice,” the hedgehog tells him; not the most competent when it comes to mitigating calamities, clearly, but Amy has welcomed him with open arms and the Chaotix are an altogether amiable bunch. Who is to say Tails isn’t the same? “And is there really nothing I can do to make up for it?” Silver does add, after a pause. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least try to do something for you.”

“I’d feel bad for asking,” Tails notes back, screwdriver dropping on his desk as he turns to Silver’s Extreme Gear. “Although… You can tell me everything about your Gear and how it works and what it’s made of, and then it’s okay. Deal?”

Studying his broken Gear too Silver nods. “I’m not a technologist. That’s why Amy and Espio said I had to go to you instead, because you’re the greatest at it. But I can do my best, if you want.”

“Heh.” Tails blushes at that, the hedgehog swears, even if it’s hard to see with how the windows mute the light from the afternoon sun. “The greatest?”

“That’s what they said,” Silver recounts. “And, I mean, you do have a plane here. That’s pretty cool!”

“She’s Sonic’s pride and joy. I’m happy to take care of her until we need her for adventures,” Tails all but beams, the little vehicle getting a few pats on her side. “I can tell you all about the Tornado and the versions I made, if you want…?”

“I’d be happy to listen,” the hedgehog agrees; and Tails’ eyes light up, the Extreme Gear grabbed and hoisted onto a table as a torrent of words about technology and planes and Eggman ploys and gadgets begins bursting out.

Silver can’t follow even half of it, but he listens closely, and Tails marvels at his ability to psychokinetically lift up dozens of items at once to move them closer or put them back in their place, and before he knows it the sun has sunken away in full and all the light outside comes from Tails’ lamps and the stars. “It should work again just fine!” the fox tells him, handing over the Gear with a beaming smile of pride.

“Thanks, Tails. I’ll give it a spin immediately.” With careful touches Silver runs a hand over his Gear; it looks just as sleek and pristine as always, but Tails had found tons of little points and places to improve it, he’d said. Amy and Espio hadn’t lied one bit; he truly does know what he is talking about, the hedgehog concedes. Even if his lab is still a bit on the tiny side as Silver walks out of it, but perhaps also here there’s tons of things hidden that the hedgehog would have no knowledge of. Tails definitely has surprised him today.

“If anything is wrong, just come back and I’ll take a look at it.” Following Silver outside Tails rubs behind his head, a more awkward little cough following. “And if you’ve got any other tech from the future, or maybe something with your powers, ah…”

Muffling a chuckle at the shy but inquiring peek sent at him Silver nods. “You’ll be the first to see it, promise.”

“Thank you!” gets grinned at him, Tails’ namesakes twitching eagerly. That hopefully won’t cause any paradoxes or anything, Silver prays to the gods, but so far he’s been to the past a couple of times already and everything has been a-okay. “Take care in the dark, and don’t do anything reckless,” the other adds, giving the Gear a final pat.

“Will do. And thanks again,” Silver agrees, readying himself to go run with his board before jumping up. But before he does so, he draws a deep breath; leaving matters unresolved is not something he’ll ever accept doing. “And thank you for letting me stay. And that we could talk about what happened,” he adds. He’d never have figured out Tails was angry about it otherwise, probably, and that just won’t do for someone he's friends with.

His companion jolts, just a bit. “Oh! It’s really no issue,” the response comes, almost hurriedly… before it falters, and Tails squares his shoulders up as well. “But, it’s also… kind of you that you apologised,” he smiles. “I appreciate it.”

With a nod Silver returns the warm look. “Of course! I’m glad it made you feel better.”

“Hmh,” Tails agrees, ears twitching… before he peeks up and adds a: “And now you’ll never do it again, right?”

Head tipping to the side Silver studies Tails close; but where his words are sharp, something playful twinkles in the fox’s eyes, head tipped to the side and little grin on his face. So he’s joking, the hedgehog figures. “I promise to not call you a half-pint again and not to steal your rings again,” he thus nods back gravely, a snort following.

“Also for Sonic?”

Quite promptly Silver finds himself overtaken by a dour glumness. “Sonic’s on thin ice. Can’t promise anything about him, sorry.”

“Too bad. Any friend of mine is a friend of Sonic. You two will befriend each other as well, and that is a threat,” Tails winks back. And he remains unrelenting in that statement even as Silver huffs and shrugs him off, eventually leaving the fox in stitches with laughter at Silver’s protests while the hedgehog rolls his eyes and gets ready to blast off on his gear.

But there’s something happy and fuzzy bubbling in his chest as well, that Silver can’t exactly place but which he appreciates. And if befriending Sonic will feel like that too, and if Sonic is willing to have him around in the first place, then…!

Maybe he should go hang out with Tails more often, Silver decrees, and the trip back to where he’s staying at Amy’s is a happy one indeed.

[novelconcepts]

When i think about how Van Palmer was developed in a lab to get me in a goddamn chokehold.

You got a lesbian. You got a butch lesbian. You got a comedy-prone butch lesbian. You got a comedy-prone, movie-obsessed butch lesbian. You got a comedy-prone, movie-obsessed, haunted-by-a-rough-childhood butch lesbian. You got a comedy-prone, movie-obsessed, haunted-by-a-rough-childhood, hidden-pragmatic-depths butch lesbian.

You put that lesbian in survival hell situations. You put that lesbian in survival hell situations with her girlfriend. You put that lesbian in survival hell situations with her girlfriend as the romantic heart of your show. You put that lesbian in survival hell situations with her girlfriend as the romantic heart of the show AND make them both unkillable.

You put that lesbian in two timelines. You put that lesbian in the storyteller role. You put that lesbian in scars and silver rings. You put that lesbian in a position to explore the darkest side of loving someone. You put that lesbian on my screen, and you cast Liv Hewson. You put that lesbian on my screen, and you cast Lauren Ambrose. I mean. I mean.

Any ONE of these things would have been enough, and yet. Here we are. Watching the unkillable, complex-ass, funny, scary, heartfelt, fireproof lesbian get her face torn off by wolves, commit cannibalism, fall in love, move to fucking Ohio, and come back for more?? And you expect her NOT to move into a penthouse apartment in the very center of my heart? Be serious, dude. Be so serious.

[milimeters-morales]

transfem miles giggling at people calling her spider-woman on accident even though she hasn’t confirmed or denied anything yet but hasn’t been trying to hide her transition either, emt patching her arm up as she tries to convince them to “stop wasting resources” on her, and the emt is like “excuse me young lady,” or some shit and starts arguing back. like immediately makes her so giddy she stops arguing. maybe rio is like talking about spider-man with her coworkers and she’s so used to saying spider-woman at home and thinking it that she says it out loud. oh right sorry you can go now (removes the reverse beartrap)

[dreadheadmadi]

Imma keep my ting brief:

You can’t get mad at Miles smut and then turn around and repost fan art of Miles with rock hard abs, Gwen with a big butt and large breasts, and Hobie and Pavitr making out.

Don’t like pedos on your page? Stop giving them ammo. Argue with your momma🤷🏾‍♀️

Edit: Not defending no one, both sides are ugly n nasty as fuck. Don’t @ me unless you got some real defense, n “but I’m a minor” ain’t shit.