#wanna continue writing it

[mooifyourecows]

8: the you and me between? 👀

You somehow managed to pick the story I was asking you about Nebraska for 🥲

So this is an original story about infinite time loops, loneliness, and choosing the life that matters. Also it's gay.

Here's two different snippets from both POVs of the story:

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

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

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[damian-lil-babybat]

'Dead Poets Society' gang

Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.

Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne

Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne

Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne

Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne

[lineffability]

"Crowley."

Crowley froze, every atom of his body coming to a complete standstill. Aziraphale had appeared out of nowhere, just like that, and he felt like a fly in a spider's web, like he had just run against a glass door that he could not have seen. Oh, this was cruel. He did not turn around.

"Don't even use doors anymore?" He tried to keep his voice level, cold, unaffected. He failed considerably, but the message got across anyways.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, immediately flinching at the words. The first time they were seeing each other again, after-- after that, and his first words were I'm sorry and he was apologizing for not using a door? Aziraphale felt like swearing, but could not. "I thought you wouldn't open if I-- well. I thought this was easier. Like a bandaid."

"Well, you were right. I wouldn't have." Steel was creeping into Crowley's voice, steel around his heart. With a forcing of limbs, he spun around, his gaze piercing through the armor of his sunglasses. Facing him.

"I need your help" Aziraphale said.

"What," Crowley said. He had possibly never put as much meaning into a single word. The glass door turned into a Great Wall. Aziraphale understood. But he was willing to climb.

The angel (oh, a true angel now, wasn't he--not his angel) fumbled, talking with his hands before his mouth even opened. Talking with his eyes, too, but they got lost in translation. Repelled by a black mirror.

"I know this is untoward. I know it's-- But Crowley, I don't have a lot of time."

"Nothing lasts forever, yeah," Crowley spat, hating himself the second the words left his lips. Unnecessary cruelty. Demonic, huh? Worse yet, Aziraphale accepted the verbal lashing. Don't forgive me, Crowley thought.

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all.

"Why are you here?"

Aziraphale glanced upwards. Then he looked intently at Crowley. I don't have much time. Right. He couldn't speak freely, Crowley realized. Of course he couldn't. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, what he had known would happen. His angel in chains. (Yet here he was. Here he was.)

"They don't know I'm here," Aziraphale mumbled, gesticulating weakly between them and Up. "I guess I can divert their attention now, for a bit. Comes with the new powers"--he shrugged helplessly--"but not for long. Crowley, do you know about-- about the-- what they're--"

"Armageddon 2.0? Sure."

There was an undecipherable look in Aziraphale's eyes. "Why didn't you-- well. It's not just. I mean it kind of is--it's. More than that. Crowley, I need you to do something for me."

"No."

"This is important." (This isn't about us.)

"I don't care." (There is no us anymore.)

"You do! You always have."

"Oh not this again," Crowley hissed. "You were an angel once. You can be forgiven. Shut up."

"That's not what I meant."

With two long, angry strides, Crowley closed the space between them. Menace, anger, hurt-- "Then what did you mean?" He spat the words. Like a weapon. (Then why was it a question?)

Aziraphale's face crumbled. He stood his ground nonetheless, not backing away. The angel's anger was less spiky, but it rose to meet Crowley's. It made his next words hit like bricks. "I mean that you love. I mean that you, Crowley, are the best person I know. I mean that I love you."

The words dropped like a lead balloon.

There was utter silence between them.

Why were they so close?

Why were his sunglasses so dark? Aziraphale saw only his own reflection. He couldn't bear that, and dropped his gaze. Oh, worse. There was his mouth, mere inches away.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips, really really looked, and there was nothing more, now that he knew about the feeling of Crowley's lips and of his heart, there was nothing more he wanted to do than to kiss him. But he couldn't, he couldn't. Not like this. He needed the next time (he had to believe in a next time, in a time with Crowley, again)--the next time they kissed he needed it to be good and happy and an affirmation. He couldn't bear it otherwise. He would break entirely. He was sure of it.

But still, still-- Crowley was so close. He could smell nothing but him. Think of nothing but him. That weakness again, that soft spot inside him he had never known how to hold down. And with it, Want reared its greedy head. Aziraphal leaned in ever so slightly, felt their noses touch-- and then used all his strength to move away, to pull back. It was not the right time. Not yet.

He looked past Crowley, who might have as well turned to a pillar of salt. Crowley, whose face was a mask he couldn't let slip. The air flickered between them.

There were tears in his eyes when he finally forced his gaze towards Crowley's face, a silent plead to not misunderstand. Please, please. But he couldn't expect that of him. He was pulling away again. But not because he wanted to. No, there was nothing he wanted more than to pull closer. There was nothing more he wanted than to talk to him, to truly talk, to explain and apologize and make amends, but he was bound by Duty and Rules and Watching Eyes more than he ever had been.

This was his rebellion: he lifted a hand, the ghost of a touch, fingertips against cheekbone. The memory of holding on. Of never wanting to let go. Crowley flinched without moving, a shiver of his lips. Aziraphale let his hand drop, briefly, to Crowley's chest, holding it over his human heart. It was beating just like his.

This was his successful magic trick, when it counted: he drew away, leaving a crack in Crowley's steel-clad heart, and a note in his chest pocket.

"I'm sorry. I need to go."

"Of course you do."

"Oh, Crowley. I--" But he did not finish the sentence, knew there was no proper way how. So he said, quietly, softly, "Trust me, please."

And he did. Crowley hated it, hated it so much, but he did, he did trust him despite it all. But it did not erase the hurt. The festering wound. Now what was he supposed to do with that?

With one last pointed look, Aziraphale vanished.

Crowley was alone.

His defenses lay shattered at his feet, and he slowly gathered them back up. He did not mend the cracks. (That's where the light had gotten in.) He cleared his throat. Tried to banish from his mind the look in Aziraphale's eyes, the memory of his lips and of his tears.

And failed considerably.

I love you.

(Touched his cheek, and then his chest, and faltered.)

[this fic is now also on ao3 and being continued there]

[sin-sidejob]

alright, we’re hunting down Netflix executives

[crybaby-bkg]

asking nerd Bakugou to give you a ‘pearl necklace’ and he starts grumbling about you tryna drain him dry but instead of pulling out his cock, he pulls out his phone to actually search for a pearl necklace </3

and to both his surprise and embarrassment, his phone is quickly tossed away in favor of you showing him what you’re actually asking for. he’s not mad though—not when you end up looking so pretty covered in white, grinning, and asking for another necklace <3

[essektheylyss]

Open, non-exhaustive list of content I would read/watch in a heartbeat about the political situation in Rexxentrum post-Solstice:

One-shot or mini-arc of the Nein going full National Treasure level heist on the Cerberus Assembly records management department before a Ludinus simulacrum can reach the burn boxes

Faux Trump aide exposé-style novel of Athesias Uludan compiling and publishing The Dirt in the aftermath as part of his apology/comeback tour

Colville-run Dirty Dozen one-shot or EXU of Oliver Schreiber dragging some particularly unruly ex-Scourgers out of semi-retirement (read: house arrest) to take Ludinus out once and for all in exchange for full indemnity

Found documents a la Midst appendices of the Cobalt Soul documentation and evidence compiled about the incident

The Archmage: An Autobiography by Martinet Ludinus Da'leth (discovered and published posthumously) [1500 pages and riddled with exaggeration and inaccuracies, the last 20% has clearly been written by AI a simulacrum]

Lorekeeper rundown Youtube video from Dani Carr

Yet another novel: Wildemount's most (in)famous and (un)reliable documentarian smelled a story (Taryon's version)

Literally just a main campaign episode of the Nein infodumping to Allura at a war council meeting with the Hells present. I need this information so badly. I am fucking begging.

This sounds like it runs the gamut in level in terms of seriousness but I would like it stated for the record that I would unhinge my jaw to consume any item on this list.

[towerofluin]

C’mon Raph, don’t noogie the elderly

(Or: finally, communication)

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 88

Geralt and Jaskier are both SLOSHED. Jaskier very drunkenly reveals he's in love with Geralt. Geralt smiles and gives him a lil kiss, with a soft "me too". Geralt wakes up hungover and is just SURE Jaskier shared a secret with him last night and he can't fucking remember what it is. For the life of him, he can't. It was something big and meaningful, he's sure, so why can't he fucking remember what it was!? Jaskier wakes up hungover and is just SURE he shared a secret to Geralt last night, but which fucking one?

[mars-wuz-herez]

“We did it Shadow! We saved everyone”

I turn to face the planet we just saved. It’s full of so much life. A memory plays in my head, where we would sit in front of a giant window and she would tell me about the beauty of earth. The wonders, the oceans, the life everything that made earth such a gorgeous planet. And after everything I saw, she wasn’t wrong. It truly was a beautiful planet.

If only she was here to see it.

My vision of the planet slowly blurs and I feel my eye lids getting heavy. So tired…

“Shadow!”

I feel arms quickly grab my waist.

“Shadow what’s wrong? Why is your super form fading?”

“My body…it can’t handle so much…”

My eyes are slowly closing. They are doing it before I even notice it. The grip around my waist tightens as I feel myself getting heavier and heavier.

“Hey hey hey stay with me. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll make it back please just hang on”

I force one eye open. I can see his super form is fading, his quills slowly turning back blue. He’s struggling.

We’re not going to make it.

He’s not going to make it

“Hedgehog…let go of me. You’re not going to make it carrying me”

“No! We’ll make it. I know we will just please hang on just for a little longer…”

I close my eyes and when I open them again. His quills are quickly fading back to his normal blue.

“Faker save yourself. Don’t die saving me. I’m not worth it and you know it”

“Don’t say that. Your life matters and if I have to die to save it then so be it. In the end I know it was worth it”

I smile at that. It’s nice to know that someone else cares about me. But I know what I must do.

“Sonic”

There are tears in those emerald eyes as he looks at me. I cup his cheek and wipe the tears going down his face. I pull him closer and our lips meet. The kiss is everything I imagined it to be and much more. I pull away.

“Forgive me…”

“What?”

I push myself off him and start falling. Fast. I hear him yelling, crying out my name. I’m sorry Sonic. But I won’t have anyone else die for me, not again. It’s selfish I know but I hope one day you’ll forgive me for doing this. My eyes shut and then it’s nothing but darkness……

“NO!”

I feel two arms wrap around me. I slightly open my eye to see Sonic. He’s hugging me and the last of his super form is fading away.

“I made a promise to you Shadow. You aren’t alone not this time. I’m staying with you until the very end”

I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. I close my eyes and all I can feel is the warmth of his hug. The darkness takes over and then everything goes black.

Part two!

[nightviator]

OK so hear me out. I'm going to tell you how I think they could make the subway scenes without making lila and Five a thing, and also having a really good character arc and making them show trauma signs. It's a bit long.

Like five would be as traumatised as he deserved to be from last apocalypse, having flashbacks and etc. Lila would see what he experienced to end up as the assassin he was and would think about her parents and the way she wanted to kill him because of her family but ended up being ungrateful for having one. And they could have great character arcs.

Lila and Five go to that subway. Five sees that thay lost the way to go back home and is really frustrated. Actually he is using that anger to hide the fact that he is scared. Traumatised. Because he has seen it all before.

He was there before. Lost, without power to help his family. He is scared. That time he had handler and there is now no thing such that. What if he has to wait another 45 years to go back to his family? Does he even has that mental capability? What if he dies before getting the chance?

He really is scared. Scared because all of the thoughts he had in that past apocalypse are coming back to him. But this time it really was his fault. He can't tell that he is a kid just saying no to his father (not that he could use it to convince himself before, the guilt was too much). He can't say he had no idea of what time travel can make. He had promised himself to never do such a stupid thing ever again and he did it. This time he abandoned his family when he knew they were in a bad state.

So he is scared and angry at himself and at lila and everything and ptsd and stuff and stuff and. Lila sees it. Lila can see what made the murder of her parents, the murder of her parents. She can see how traumatised he really was. And she wants to help. She was responsible in this because she wanted to be more than just a wife and mom and she kinda made him to come here.

But as the time passes five is in a way worse situation. He is loosing it. Also the one who wants to help him is the daughter of handler. Five is so paranoid. What if it was all a plan? What if he never really ran away from the first apocalypse and is still working for commission? What if this is mind games of handler? And if not, what says that Lila can't be another handler? The ones that find you when you're at your worst and try to act like they want to help.

So here we have paranoid Five and Lila who wants to help and understands how truly traumatised he is. She is also scared that Five may run away when she is sleep because he can't trust her now,and because of that she has to always keep an eye on him.

This makes him even more sure that something is up with Lila. And when they go to that very first apocalypse, he goes to his young self without paying attention to gun to make sure that its not all just memories made by handler and he is truly seeing this and the things he experienced after season 1 were real. He is gets shot and lila is the one who saves him.

She is like:"you fucking idiot!!! What are you doing?! You literally were the murder of my parents and now you're acting all crazy and are about to get both of us killed?!"

And he looks at her, yelling that he NEVER wanted those to happen, and just for the first time cries because he thinks all of the things he has done was because of handler but also thinks he is making those up to feel less guilty of being a murder for such a long time and also coming to this subway but at the same time he is paranoid and etc etc.

Lila sees how much guilt he had and also feels bad because does she really miss her family? If yes, why wasn't she more grateful this time? Why did she ran away from them then?

And she sighs, tries to stop nagging at such a situation and adds a mental note to make him go to therapy once they are out. If they are out. So he is all tired, and she goes to help him with that wound, and he just stares at her, disgusted and shocked and saying that don't you DARE to touch me.

Lila is so confused buy apparently this made Five really believe that Lila is just like handler and is trying to use him and make him feel like he needs her just to get closer to him. Is he going to let someone else touch him? Even go near him? Absolutely not. No. No way.

So he runs away, and she barely makes it to not miss the subway by using his powers. Five is there, bleeding but still refusing help. He is about to die, and then she won't be able to copy anything and will probably stuck here forever, and she is the one who made this happen. Such a selfish person she is, thinking about herself in this moment when five is DYING, she thinks.

And when they are both at the last level of disappointment, the subway finally stops in were they wanted. Home. Their home.

It's been such a long time, 7 years.

Lila jist picks Five, running out. Five survives and Lila has a emotional hug with Diego (who wanted to fix everything) and her children and they sob and they talk and they really fix problems.

And then one of the siblings makes a comment on Five, saying how stupidly he trapped himself in a thing related to time again as if he is addicted.

Lila is about to just rush and kill that person. She yells that none of them never really cared about how traumatised he was and she realises she was like that too.

Anyways, Five wakes up and siblings are ready for emotional support and things go back to normal or at least a bit good. And him and lila have such a iconic friendship.

Also Diego tries to be the good brother that he told that Five was. Because Five deserves good brother too.

Also, you want romance? Throw a scene when he finds Delores or human Delores there and wants her so badly but Lila has to stop him because they should go and Five just hates this because he thinks she is just using his love for his wife like handler. (Got the human Delores idea from another tumblr post that I can't find now.)

TADA!!!

BETTER PLOT!!!

....damn I wrote a LOT. I may make it a fanfic-

So... yeah. Love to know your thoughts too, because we are all so angry.

[cursedhaglette]

big shoutout to @fangswbenefits who is going through and commenting on every chapter of TBC as she reads today and is making my day over and over and over - freakin love you bestie ugh

[rintoki]

when you sleep at night

characters: kafka x dom!reader

tw: somnophilia, dubcon, nothing too crazy actually relax

a/n: i guess this can be considered a second part to my first kafka smut, its like the exact same setting and dynamic.

MINORS DNI

the door opens easily as kafka steps into the entrance way, slipping out of her heeled boots and quietly making her way through the dark living room. all the lights in the house was out and it was eerily silent, through the dim lighting kafka strains her eyes to check the clock hanging on your wall.

11:37pm

you couldn’t possibly be sleeping this early yet. but, alas, you proved to be unpredictable to her once again as she turns the knob to your bedroom, pushing it open to reveal your sleeping form on the bed. her feet padded softly on the floor; taking slow, deliberate steps closer to the bed that you laid on.

kafka clicked her tongue, a tinge of annoyance blossoming in her chest when she sees that you were indeed fast asleep and not just pretending to mess with her. not that you were the type to do that anyway. she felt her finger twitch unconsciously, standing foolishly by your bed as she is once again reminded of how little you cared for her. despite her now regular visits to your residence, you never once welcomed her, nor have you ever made any type of accommodations towards her.

the woman breathes deeply, your familiar scent permeates the room and her body is quick to react to it. reminded of all the late nights spent together, how warm your body felt next to hers, and how good you made her feel. kafka shuts her eyes for a moment, deciding on what to do now. part of her knows that the right thing to do is to leave and come back another time, preferably informing you beforehand like you had asked of her.

but instead she remains in her spot; unmoving as she watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, your soft breasts hidden underneath the thin material of your pyjamas, and how easy it would be to simply unbutton it right now. kafka finds herself getting lost in her thoughts, eyes raking over your body as she thinks about everything she could do to you now. but more than anything, her purple eyes finally land on your hands; the same hands that brought her orgasm after orgasm. the very ones that hugged and caressed her body, how she wanted to feel them again.

and as if in a trance, kafka pushes her jacket off her shoulders, letting the expensive coat fall to the floor without a care. normally unheard of with how much she loves her coats, but now there’s no one here to see that. and there’s no one to witness as she peels off the layers of her clothing, her belly tightening with every passing second and soon the woman stood in nothing but her panties.

kafka crawls gingerly onto the bed, careful to not wake you as she eyes your hand resting by your side. she tests the waters, nimble fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your body. when you show no reaction does the excitement bubble up within her, her pussy already beginning to ache with need

inch by inch, she shuffles closer. until your relaxed fingers lay just underneath her clothed pussy, a wet spot now forming on her panties. kafka’s breathes deeply, trying to keep it even as she lowers herself onto your hand, feeling your fingers fold naturally under her weight.

a shaky breath escapes her at the feeling, slowly moving her hips back and forth on your curled fingers, not caring how awkward the position was. kafka watches your sleeping form carefully, but you showed no signs of waking up, still blissfully unaware and deeply asleep.

a small part of her was annoyed—that you didn’t wake up and catch her in the act, that she won’t get to see your reaction. but the larger part of her is now pushing off her panties, letting her bare pussy rub against the palm of your hand. it was warm, and the ridges brushed perfectly against her swollen clit. kafka shudders, her breathing turns heavy as she continues the slow rutting of her hips, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations until your hand was sufficiently lubricated from how much she leaked.

and with shaky hands, she positioned your fingers upright, aligning it with her hole before sinking down upon them. kafka nearly whines, biting back any sounds as your fingers penetrates her tight walls. she grips your wrist, holding them in place as the woman lifts her hips once again, this time pushing your fingers into her pussy. again and again, your fingers sunk deep into her warmth and kafka pants quietly. her mind was feeling dizzy from the entire situation, the fact that you weren’t even conscious now and yet you still managed to reduce her to this state. how even just your fingers was enough for her pussy to twitch and push back so desperately against your hand.

she squeezes her eyes shut, her head hung low and nearing the verge of her orgasm as she angles your wrist so that the tips of your fingers brushed against her spot. the sensitive patch of nerves singing in response as it felt like shocks ran through her body. kafka gasps loudly, unable to hold back her moans now as it almost felt like your hand was moving by itself. too far gone to put the pieces together even when your fingers begin to curl and thrust inside her, or when your thumb has suddenly begin to press against her clit at the same time.

her mouth hung open, panting breathlessly as her body felt like it was on fire. her hand wrapped helplessly around your wrist even as it moved by itself and her back arched, muscles flexing and her thighs trembled terribly. kafka was right on the edge, just a little more… just one more stroke, just one more thrust…

“agh…! fu—fuck, wha…!”

the woman felt every sensation in her body stop cold. before she’d knew it your hand was already ripped from her body, and her orgasm had come to a screeching halt. kafka nearly chokes, scrambling to her senses as she finally raises her head to face you.

from her flushed expression to her bare body, your cold eyes finally landed on your soaked fingers, covered in her wetness after having used it for her own pleasure. kafka watches with wide eyes; somewhere in her mind she understood that you had probably been awake for a while now, that you’d probably purposely fucked with her. brought her to the brink of an orgasm before ruthlessly ripping it away from her.

her heart pounds in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling as she waits for your next move, your next words. what will you with her now? she’s not that shameless to ask you to make her cum again after begin caught like that, but for whatever reason she could feel her pussy tightening again, waiting with anticipation of what you might do to her now.

[transformers-synergize]

What year does synergized take place?

There is no set year, but it takes place sort of in the mid-2000s, at least technology-wise for humans. Aesthetically, it's somewhat a mix of multiple decades.

I set the technology at the mid-2000s for two main reasons. One a lot of my inspirations for this project are shows/comics from around that time, and two, the major reason I don't want to write smart phones or modern type social media. I don't find it fun to write (mostly modern social media integration), and what is considered modern changes so fast. No matter how up-to-date I try to keep it, the nature of a long-term project like this, it will fall behind anyway, so why not set it slightly in the past where I already know we're human technology is at and will go...

I kinda got a light alt-history thing going on where no real-world brands, cities, or countries are name-dropped. It feels pretty close to our world, but occasionally, a character will mention something like "at least Earth only had one world War" or how theirs a town that and all the people living in it mysteriously all turned into solid metal like 300 years ago, also it just a tourist attraction you can just visit now or religions/holidays being lil different from the real-world ones, the vibes are definitely east coast America, and it is sorta set there but it is definitely not a 1 to 1 with the real world (sorta how Steven universe handled things)

[snazzydwarf]

DP X DP Prompt: A White Robins Visage

We all know about the AUs of Danny being Jason's alternate version aye?

Well what about Danny being the ghost of Jason. More specifically the ghost of his Robin.

Picture this:

When Jason was killed at the hands of the joker he appeared within The Zone. Wearing his Robin uniform that was now covered in blood and soot. The greens barely seen underneath all the burgundy red.

However when he was revived/resurrected he wasn't quite... whole. Things of his past escaped him, almost as if the memories where covered in a thick fog.

It was assumed this was because of the pits. That it somehow scrambled his brain and caused not only the pit rage but also the slight memory loss and cloudyness.

However what no one knew was that when Jason left the zone to the mortal world. Something or rather someone was left behind.

Robin, now called Danny, has only ever known a life within the Ghost Zone. The small boy would be often caught running around with a large smile despite the large, gaping wound on his temple. Right bellow a large patch of black hair, the rest being stark white colour.

Somedays his form would flicker to that of someone older, in a brighter set of clothing. Almost of that you would see in a superhero movie, the once eyecatching colours have been speckled with blood. It's unknown if it came from his bleeding head or there was more injuries underneath his clothing, but no one had the heart to ask. Only Frostbite, the best healer in the Far Frozen knows the answers but refuses to speak of them. His eyes would sadden whenever it was asked, so the topic was dropped.

But one thing was certian. This boy had been so brutalized, so beaten and damaged it reflected in his ghost form. It's known that Ghosts can heal from almost anything given enough time and rest, but sometimes there where wounds that could never heal. Not unless you scared over those in your mind first.

An example of this would be Ember. The burns that once covered her body has slowly faded over time as she has come to terms with her own passing. Now only the ones on her back remain, the most important one as a flaming beam had fallen on her before she could escape the burning inferno. The smoke took her mind, but the fire took her body.

Seeing little Danny run around with the forever gushing laceration caused a grave sense of sadness to sweep those who saw him. How young, a little spark blown out before it had the time to be the light they all knew he would've became.

So it was rather a shock when one of the Bats saw the face of a younger Jason infrount of them. Sitting upon the grave of their brother humming a tune long forgotten by the older version, but forever remembered by the younger.

Flowers dropped from their hands as the second Robin turned around, domino mask wide beneath the white and black hair.

Wait... didn't they just see Jason a few days prior? Who is this? Who is wearing their brothers clothing that they swore was still displayed within the tube in the Batcave.

Their hands shook, and body trembled. Blood, oh oh god there was so much blood. The boy, Jason? was covered in it. What happened?

They knelt on the wet soil, plams held up and outwards towards the kid.

"Hey, are you oka-" right as they where about to place a hand of the child's shoulder it just... passed right through. A cold sensation washed over their body, their hand was through his shoulder but crimson stained their knees in the pool bellow them.

A voice whispered in their ear, light and airy, almost as if a passing breeze has blown through the graveyard.

"Who are you?"

[cerise-on-top]

hi I saw you did a fluff alphabet already for captain Price for some one else but Can I request more letters? you Can pick! sorry for the Bad English and stuff by the way, Its not my first language :)

Hey there! Don't worry, your English is fine! And sure I can :>

Fluff Alphabet for Price 2

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Price is definitely the more dominant person in your relationship. Sure, he could always just sit back and let you do things, but he’s just so used to taking the wheel at his job that he just subconsciously does it at home and with you as well. Will always choose where to go to eat, will always help you in the bath with washing your back and whatnot, will often tell you what he wants you to do. In his case, though, he will reward you for listening to him. For example, he’ll give you a kiss on your forehead, cuddle with you on the couch or try to make your favorite food. He actually does enjoy being the more dominant person in your relationship.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Kind of? He trusts you enough to know that you mean no harm when you’re getting friendly with someone else, most of the time you’re just being polite. So, usually he has no problem ignoring it. But if he’s had a bad day and just wants to have you around him, with your attention solely on him, then he’ll get jealous very easily. Price will become a bit more touchy with you then, putting his arm around your waist, maybe even trying to scare the other person off. Once you’re home you’ll have enough time to get changed into some more comfortable clothes before he just plops down on top of you. Demands you pay attention to him. Scratch his scalp and he’ll calm down more quickly, though.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s not too bad at kissing. There have been plenty of people who have wanted to be with him since he’s a good man. A handsome one too. He’s had a few flings here and there as well, so he’s had his fair share of practice before. Although he’s usually composed when it comes to things like this, he was pretty nervous during your first kiss together. He made it quite obvious that he wanted to kiss you by putting his forehead against yours at first and asking you if you were okay with it. The kiss didn’t last too long, nor was it too intense. It was pleasant and just right. It was the confidence boost he needed to continue kissing you.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He wouldn’t really beat around the bush too much. If he really likes you then he’ll just make it known. If you reciprocate or just say yes, then that’s great. If you don’t then he’ll just move on. He’s got better things to do than be a lovesick fool, after all. Would ask you to meet up with him at a nice place, maybe even the place you first met if it wasn’t on a mission, and confess to you there. He may know that he shouldn’t really “purchase” you with gifts, but he’ll get you a small gift anyway. Nothing too big, just something small that you can remember him by.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s kind of obvious, actually. Especially to the people, who know him well enough. He becomes touchy with you. It’s not too much, and you could always just ask him to either tone it down or downright stop, but for the time being he will touch you. Just his hand on your arm, on your shoulder or your back. He is a bit touchy with his soldiers too, yes, but just a tad bit more with you. That’s why he doesn’t even notice it until someone points it out to him. His tone is also much gentler with you than it is with others. Plus he’s also more prone to praising you. It’s kind of embarrassing once he notices, but he can’t really correct that behavior either.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Once you’ve been together for some time, he knows you pretty well. He, too, is a pretty observant man. Plus he loves you, so why wouldn’t he want to watch you like a hawk? Is also pretty good at remembering things, so if you’ve mentioned something a few months, or even years, ago, then he’ll remember. This is a good and bad thing because he sometimes will tease you about it when he feels playful. Price can be a pretty empathetic man, especially towards his loved ones. Sure, he can turn that empathy off if he needs to, but he prefers to feel what you’re feeling so he can help you better.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

If you complain about the stench of him smoking then he’ll actually try to tone it down a little bit. Sure, he likely won’t ever be able to stop entirely, but he’ll smoke a little bit less for you. You expressing concern for his health because of it would actually be a motivator for him to stop entirely. But he really needs it since his job is very demanding and stressful. However, you’re pretty much the only person who gets away with hiding his cigars. Everyone else will get an earful or punished, but not you. You will get an exasperated sigh and a “Love, where did you put them this time?” He will complain to you about how expensive his cigars are and how you shouldn’t waste them like that.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes, Price is a cuddler at heart. I know I said he’s the dominant person in your relationship, but he really doesn’t mind being cuddled either. In fact, he loves it. Doesn’t matter who’s cuddling who, doesn’t matter what position you’re in, he’s at ease as long as he gets to touch you somehow. However, if you’re not into it, then he can tone it down a little bit, he’s a mature adult, after all. Will still want to hold your hand from time to time, though. And he does love kisses as well. Loves to tease you by kissing the corner of your mouth, just so you’ll pout and ask him to kiss you properly. Whenever he feels like sleeping in you can actually get him to get up by promising him kisses. Tell him that sleepyheads get no kissies and he’ll be up fairly quickly.