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luxaofhesperides · 4 months

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Human/Mer AU + Bioluminescent Siren Duke ; requested by @justwannabecat!

The human hadn’t been in his territory recently.

He wasn’t attached or anything, but Duke had started to look forward to seeing him around. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to be under the curious, watchful eyes of a human who could so easily be dragged down into the depths.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be indulging this human’s curiosity, trying to lure him closer time after time. Holding the attention of any human is dangerous; Duke’s heard the stories plenty of time. He’s seen the damage humans can do even more.

There’s just something different about this human, who never dives too deep, who smiles at him and leaves little gifts in the tide pools tucked away from the rest of the beach, hidden from sight. Or rather, usually hidden from sight, since this human is the only one to go there.

It’s foolish, but Duke actually misses his human.

It’s not the first time he’d been gone for long stretches of time, but something feels off. There’s worry curling up at the base of his throat, making him swim to the surface more frequently. Steph had given him a look when she caught him, but didn’t say a word. She shouldn’t, really, when she’s been sneaking up to the surface for her own human friend, some small, dangerous human with dark hair and hands that speak more than a voice.

He’d seen her, just once, when he had gone up to splash water and his human then swim away.

Somehow, things felt easier back then. Like the horrors of the world couldn’t reach them among those tide pools.

It’s reached them now.

Duke’s not expecting to see his human when he swims up to the surface. He’s expecting another quiet night, an empty beach, a dark sky with only the moon casting its lonely light down onto him.

But when he swims up, his eyes go to a figure on the beach instantly.

Even from this distance, Duke knows: that’s his human.

He doesn’t think before he’s swimming over, pushing himself faster than he’s ever gone before. It’s low tide, so he can’t get as close as he wants and can’t reach most of the tide pools at all, but it gets him close enough. Human and merfolk vocal chords are different; he can speak in water, but can’t make more than a few hums in air, and humans can’t really do anything in water at all.

His human is sitting with his knees tucked into his chest on the beach. He’s hiding in his clothes, a hood pulled over his head, but he looks up when Duke drags himself onto the sand.

Duke can see bruises. Dried blood. A stray tear slipping out of his eyes.

He wants to ask what’s happened? But all that comes out is a low crooning noise.

His human laughs, a quiet, bitter noise that makes Duke’s chest tighten uncomfortably. “Hey,” he rasps in a low voice. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve had a better time than I did.”

Duke can’t reach his human. The distance between them isn’t great, but it’s too much. He’s already partially out of the water, hands sinking into the wet sand just out of reach of the waves, and he can’t get any farther out. He reaches a hand out, silently pleading for his human to come closer.

The move makes his human soften, some of the hard edge of tension in his body melt away. He gets up and walks into the water, then sits down next to Duke, taking his hand.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

If they were underwater, Duke would be able to say I missed you too. Don’t ever go away so long again. But his human is in no shape to go underwater right now, so Duke presses his hand against his lips and hums lightly.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Duke realizes that he’s never been this close to any human before. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels like relief, to finally have his human in his reach, safe from the rest of the world.

He gives him human another moment, then reaches out and carefully pushes his hood back. His human allows it, blinking at him slowly. Without the shadow of the hood, Duke can clearly see the bruise coloring his cheekbone and the cuts going down his temple to his jaw. His split lip is still red with blood, and what little of his throat isn’t hidden by his clothes reveals more bruises wrapped around the delicate column of his neck.

Duke ghosts his fingers over each of these injuries, hating how easily humans hurt each other. His human leans into the touch despite how it must hurt, something devastating in his expression.

Who hurt you comes out as a questioning trill. Somehow, it gets the point across.

“It’s alright,” his human says. “Really. I’m not even that hurt. It’s just been a long few months. We never talk much, so you wouldn’t know this, but I have to fight a lot of people. Perils of being a hero, you know?”

Duke knows about heroes. More specifically, he knows about mer heroes. He’s considered being one himself, but the currents shifted and he ended up more a loner, banding with the other rejects of the city to live in the fringes and help only those who wander out too far from the marginally safer waters within.

He hasn’t heard of any human heroes, but then again, he doesn’t know much about humans at all. Nothing beyond the stories all parents tell their children to scare them away from the surface, or the horror stories kids tell each other in the middle of the night when they want to scare each other.

He hums again to let his human know he’s listening. His human has such a nice voice. Why haven’t they done this before?

It’s always been a push and pull between them, carefully keeping their distance but always circling back to each other. Duke would let his human swim with him, and his human would let Duke sit safely on the other side of a tide pool, tossing sea shells back and forth between each other.

They don’t even know each other’s names.

He wishes, just for a moment, that he could go back in time and do things better. But he’s happy here with his human and he doesn’t want to lose this either.

He’ll just have to make the best of what he has. It’s how he’s always lived after his parents disappeared.

“This really isn’t that bad,” his human says, “I’ve taken worse hits before. It’s just that I couldn’t transform before the attack started, so now my human form is bruised too.”

…Human form? The more Duke hears, the more questions he has.

Duke hums at a lower octave, placing a hand over his human’s chest.

His human laughs lightly. “Yeah, I guess we’ve never really talked much about ourselves, did we? I’m human, don’t worry, just not all the time. I… actually, I died a few years ago. But I came back partially. So I’m also half dead still and I can transform into a ghost to fight threats. I’m a hero called Phantom. Actually, Danny Phantom since I was stupid enough to just give out my first name when I started out. In my defense, my brain was still a little fried.”

There is so much he wants to say to that. He tries, and makes a series of low hums and clicks in the back of his throat, staring at Danny (he finally got his human’s name!) incredulously.

“I promise I’m fine,” Danny continues. “It was just a bit rough. As soon as I get some time to recover, I’ll be good as new! And I really did miss you, you know. Didn’t even go home first, just come straight here.”

That’s honestly really sweet. Duke hums again, a lighter pitch, and takes hold of Danny’s wrist and tugs him towards deeper waters.

“What? You want me to go in?”

Duke nods, already shuffling his way back out of the sand.

He expects to look awkward during the process. What he most definitely doesn’t expect is for Danny to easily pick him up and walk them both into the ocean.

Listen. Duke is not a small mer. He’s big. He’s got a long, heavy tail and wide fins going down his back, his forearms, and the sides of his tail. It’s a struggle for him to fit into seaweed nests with his friends during the colder seasons, often left to balance on the edge with his tail hanging out. His friends struggle to pull him through the water with his weight. His parents weren’t able to hold him much after he started growing.

None of this matters to Danny, who acts as if Duke weights nothing at all.

To his great embarrassment, his fins flare in appreciation for Danny’s strength. He was not expecting a human to be so strong, but Duke’s not about to lie to himself and say it’s not attractive.

He trills to Danny, who laughs again, then falls into the water, taking them both under.

Duke doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold of Danny and swims them further out. He stays close to the surface so Danny can rise for air as needed, but he makes no move to leave Duke’s side even after a few minutes.

He glances back, concerned, when he sees that Danny is watching him with dark eyes, not breathing at all despite being conscious.

Danny holds up a finger and closes his eyes. Two rings of light appear around his waist, then split apart and pass over his body. Instantly, Danny’s body becomes lighter, as if Duke’s hand is grasping at a current on the seabed. His hair turns white and his eyes glow from how bright of a green they are, but there’s something inhuman about his features now, something that makes him look different beyond just physical features.

Well. Danny did say he could transform.

Now that they’re underwater, Duke can finally speak. The first thing he asks is, “What was that?”

Danny grins at him. “That,” he says, speaking with ease as if he’s not underwater at all, “was my transformation. And this is my ghost form. Quite the look, isn’t it?”

“You can talk down here?! Also, hi, my name’s Duke. Since I never introduced myself.”

“Ghosts can do a lot of things,” Danny answers with a cheeky grin. “It’s nice to finally know your name. I’ve been calling you glowfish in my head this whole time.”

“Glowfish?”

“Yeah. Because you, you know,” Danny gestures vaguely at him, “Glow.”

Duke glances down at his back fins, which are indeed glowing. They flare a bit from embarrassment, which just makes the dots of light lining the fins more visible. He doesn’t glow a lot, keeping a tight hold of that ability, but sometimes it comes out anyways when he’s feeling especially happy.

And apparently, he’s always very happy around Danny.

It’s a good thing Danny doesn’t know what that means, because if anyone of his friends found out, they’d laugh at how obvious he’s being. Drawbacks of being somewhat bioluminescent: anyone familiar with mers who have this feature know exactly what the glow means.

“Right,” he says just a beat too late. “Well, now that we know each other’s names, can you tell me how you really feel? Those injuries didn’t look too good.”

“It’s fine, really! I take harder hits all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Danny doesn’t answer for a long moment, then sighs. “Yeah. It still hurts.”

“Stay with me for tonight,” he says. “You’ll be safe. You can rest and heal and I’ll keep you safe from anything that comes looking for you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

Danny doesn’t put up much of a fight. He must be exhausted. “Yeah, alright. Take me away, Duke. You know, this is like those stories about sirens luring sailors down into the depths.”

“Well, I am a siren.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I take after my mom. She’s the one who taught me how to sing.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re friends so I don’t have to worry about being dragged down to my watery death.”

Duke snorts. “Good thing you’re already a ghost then. Not much I can do to you down here.”

He swims down, heading towards a small cavern in a sea rock that he’s claimed as his own, leading Danny into it. The light from his fins illuminates the entrance and the rocks within, a narrow passage that goes in for a few meters before opening up into a larger space full of carefully tended to seaweed and starfish decorating the walls.

There’s a nook tucked away in the back wall where he’s set up a seaweed bed, the plant braided together into something more solid. It’s big enough to fit his tail, which means it’s big enough for him and Danny.

“Here,” he says, helping Danny down. “Get some sleep. Then you can tell me about what happened in the morning and we’ll take it from there.”

“I’m glad you’re here Duke,” Danny whispers, curling up on his side. He holds Duke’s hand, twining their fingers together, and it’s as nice as it is strange to feel how cold Danny is in this form when he was so warm as a human.

“I’ll always be here for you. You just need to come back to me.”

Danny hums, but doesn’t answer. It’s alright; Duke’s used to his loved ones leaving. He knows he can’t make them stay. All he can do is hope they return one day.

It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone in his home. There’s a communal cave where his friends stay that he visits when he gets lonely, but this place used to be for his family. Now it’s just him.

Him and Danny.

The last time there was song in these walls, his mother was still around, singing him lullabies.

Looking down at Danny, curled up and so strangely fragile looking, Duke feels the song build up in his chest. It slips out in low, soft notes, an old melody passed down through generations of their family.

He sings Danny to sleep.

He sings and sings and sings until all his nightmares are soothed and dawn is almost upon them.

It’s all he can do, so Duke sings and hopes it’s enough to keep Danny close to him for just a little longer.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #once again hit by the need to go crazy with worldbuilding #hitting myself w a broom while writing this like KEEP IT SHORT. KEEP IT SHORT!!#this could so easily be 20k+.....#the worldbuilding.... i have Thoughts on mer society and underwater gotham and human/mer differences and so much more #duke's parents were captured by a human (the joker) to use in a fucked up traveling aquarium #danny's still a halfa and a hero but he's not w his parents. they're good parents they just fought the gov for his sake and got arrested #so he's w vlad in a coastal city while jazz is in college #other heroes are still around on land and are not mers so villains are still up there too. and danny had to fight them hence his injuries #he actually got captured a bit and taken to some evil underground gladiator ring he had to fight his way out of mostly in ghost form but #also as a human. and the whole time he just thought abt the only friend he has in this new city which is duke. a mer he visits when he can #there is just SO much i want to write for this but i have to hold myself back....#this whole asking for prompts thing is to make myself writing shorter things... keep fics brief... not 10k+....#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#i went straight for the hurt/comfort lol

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somefanficrecomendations · 25 days

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Tim Drake-Centric Fic Recs

Your Honor, he’s just a little guy. My client can’t be charged with murder! He was just being silly!

16 november 1581 by DairyFarmer (gen), 8k, Protective!Bruce, Angst Bruce blacked out. He wasn’t sure what happened after those words left Jack’s mouth. All he knew was that the next thing he remembered was being pulled off of Jack Drake by several police officers. ---- Tim goes missing and there were times that Bruce wished he wasn’t such a good detective.

The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne by theskeptileptic (gen), 25k, Tim Joins the Batfamily Early Tim is an independent, clever, and super mature eleven-year-old. Unfortunately, his dopey neighbor, Bruce, can’t seem to understand that. When he decides to disappear on a “solo camping trip” and run away to Canada, he figures it’s the perfect plan that will make everybody happy. He didn’t expect the Waynes would tag along with him and ruin everything.

Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans by Lilac_hyacinth (Tim Drake/Bernard Dowd), 6k, Hurt/Comfort That was a blatant lie. Dana had seen a handful of Tim’s landscape shots a few weeks ago. Jack might’ve spotted the ones she’d pinned to the fridge. Bruce saw plenty, if crime scene photos counted. But Tim’s favorites? His civilian-friendly favorites, the ones behind him? This was the first time anyone beside himself had seen them. And Jack wasn’t there. Or Tim's alone at another school event, Bernard helps.

Cryp-Tim by PrinceJakeFireCake (Tim Drake/Kon-El), 6k, Fluffy, Cryptid Tim The cons of dating Tim Drake were innumerous. For one, he was almost impossible to photograph, and so none of Kon’s friends at school actually believed he existed. His family was scary, horrifying really, and all of them seemed to find joy in making Tim regret ever being born. And Tim had charmed Ma and Pa Kent so thoroughly, they had ditched their shovel talk to instead coo at him and offer him pie and compliment him for fixing their tractor, so Kon was at a disadvantage when it came to intimidating someone with his family. Kon and Tim date. It goes pretty well, all things considered.

A Worthy Father by Crowlows19 (gen), 3k, Fluff and Angst Jack Drake forces his son to give up being Robin. He could never have predicted the consequences of parenting a Robin-less Tim Drake. He may never sleep again and Bruce Wayne certainly has no sympathy for him.

all you wanna do by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep (gen), 1k, Fluff, Video Game Sexualization Tim. Timothy. You are a superhero, sweetheart.” “And now I can be one in a video game.” When the character screen loaded, the room was silent for several seconds as both found themselves disgusted with the options. “Do they not realize that women have organs.” Bruce frowned. “And while I personally don’t have breasts, I’m aware enough to know that they don’t look like that all of the time.”

it's a beautiful day by MashpotatoeQueen (Tim Drake/Kon-El), 2k, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Tim and Kon are getting married, Bruce is an utter sap, and there is a father-son dance.

#Tim Drake fic rec #Batfam fic rec #Tim Drake #Batfam #Bruce Wayne #timkon #timbern #jack drake is a bad parent #fluff #angst #words: 0-5k #words: 5-10k #words: 20k #fic #complete

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diazsdimples · 2 months

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Fuck It Friday!

How are we all feeling after today chaps (gn)? Not drowning in our feels too much I hope!

I truly said fuck it today and started a new wip. So here I have the very first snippet of Sleepy Mornings (working title), the premise to which you can find here (and if you cbfed looking, it's a collection of all the times Buck wakes up next to Eddie). Please enjoy what will hopefully be something cute and fluffy (with a hint of sex later)!

The first time Buck woke up next to Eddie, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how he got there. There he was, in a strange bed, head pulsing in time with an inaudible beat, his mouth as dry as the Sahara, with an unfamiliar, warm lump to his right. Buck blinked blearily up at the ceiling and tried to orientate himself. The room was…. beige. That was the only word Buck’s poor, addled brain was coming up with. Beige, with no life, no character. It could have been a hotel room for all he knew. Trying not to panic as his mind ran through a million scenarios – most of which ended with drugged and held captive – Buck tried to play through the events of the previous day. The last thing he remembered was the beauty pageant, standing numbly as he, Eddie and Hen were handcuffed, before being corralled into the back of Athena’s police car. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. There were small flashes of memories; Athena all but dragging him up the steps into someone’s – Eddie’s – house, Eddie suddenly appearing next to him, his face still tearstained as he hiccupped miserably, Athena sitting on the coffee table and gently explaining to the two of them that they’d been drugged, Athena supporting Buck as he threw up messily into Eddie’s toilet. Buck’s cheeks burned as the memories flickered through his mind like a film reel. He was going to have to send one hell of an apology text to Athena. And Eddie too, if the trash can by the side of the bed was anything to go by. A grumble came from the other side of the bed and the covers shifted as Eddie rolled from his side to his back, smacking his lips before settling back into sleep. Buck couldn’t help but admire Eddie’s face, the way the morning light played over it, giving his skin an almost-honey coloured hue. He shook himself, wincing as his head throbbed once again. Now was not the time for weird thoughts about his best friend. If anything, he’d blame it on the drugs. “’die?” Buck mumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he squinted into the too-bright light filtering through the shabby curtains. “Are you 'wake?”

Tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @thekristen999

#sleepy mornings fic #hi i am once again trying to do a short cute wip that won't turn into a 10k+ monster #single dads hit 20k today and that's TWO CHAPTERS #send prayers #i'm also incapable of writing one singlular thing #james writes #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #911 buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fanfic #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #buddie fanfic

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astrobei · 1 year

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promoting my mike wheeler boyband enthusiast agenda

#i’ve been blowing through this fic when i literally need to be doing Anything else #it was at 10k this weekend and i just broke 20k yesterday #which is very fast for me ok usually i write a lot slower than that #so i think it’s so cruel tht i have TWO MIDTERMS THIS WEEK. do they not know i have fic to write #anyways #miwip wednesday #byler #/astro posts

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snickerdoodlles · 1 year

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say hello to my current wip, making assumptions, aka the fic about chay's truly impressive collection of monsterfucker sex toys. i'm banging my head against my desk as i work on one of the emotional scenes, so here's a ~1k preview of the first chapter because i like validation 😂

The thing about fucking up a lot is that you get really good at identifying the little voice in your head yelling hey moron amongst all the alarm bells. It’s just that, if you’re Kim, the little voice can scream as loud as it likes, but it won’t change the fact that the stupid decision is so often the only decision available.

I, Kim thinks as he picks the lock on Chay’s door, am very bad at lying to myself.

It’s just, Kim is nosy. He doesn’t know how not to be, not with a childhood of secrets that kill and a father who lies more than he cares. So, when Kim had snooped through the family’s finance accounts and happened upon Chay’s bank statements, which showed no activity beyond Papa adding an allowance for months and then abruptly incurred multiple pages of mysterious payments totalling to several thousand baht in less than two weeks, which transactions could only be less obvious if they were plastered in neon DRUGS HERE! signs, well. What was Kim supposed to do?

…Not break into Chay’s room and scour the place for secret drug stashes is the correct answer, but Kim is so far past that now. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to do when he finds the stashes of drugs--probably throw them out, except then he’d have to tell Chay, because people rearranging your rooms and throwing out your stuff behind your back is the worst, and he won’t do that to Chay. But he’s also been trying to respect Chay’s fuck off boundary line, no matter how much it hurts, so Chay’s going to hate him twice as much for this, fuck, he’s really thrown himself into a right pickle this time--

He should turn back now. Before he makes this worse.

Then Kim thinks of Chay collapsed in his own pile of vomit, or passed out with blood dripping from his nose, or pale with a needle still sticking out of his arm, because Kim knows the shit dealers cut their products with, because Papa had wanted him to take over the gritty side of the business, and then Kim’s inside Chay’s rooms without a second’s hesitation.

Chay’s room is a mess. Not the type of mess Kim had liked to drop in on, back when he’d surprise Chay at home and get treated to Chay frantically tidying the place while making half a dozen excuses for why Kim couldn’t come over, despite knowing Kim was watching him clean through the front window, and then finally invite Kim in and pout at him until he did something nice to make up for his bullying. This mess isn’t small piles of debris and laundry and dirty dishes--it’s several unpacked boxes growing dust in a corner, a small hamper of clean clothes infront of an empty closet, a collection of dirty glasses atop a stack of textbooks before the nightstand. If Kim hadn’t known this is Chay’s room, hadn’t secretly triple checked the security of this wing and Chay’s position to it obsessively when Chay had first moved in, he might’ve thought this the room for one of Papa’s infrequent guests. It’s…unsettling, to see a space Chay spends so much time in be so empty of his presence.

…He’s wasting time.

The rooms in this wing are all outfitted with the same basic setup: bed in the middle, oversized nightstand between it and the corner, lamp and chair in another, entrance to a full bath and toilet in the last. Usually, long term guests customize their rooms into anything besides a soulless box, but Chay hasn’t even tacked up so much as a postcard on the wall. The only thing unique is the large wooden chest with a well-loved blanket tossed over it, so that’s where Kim starts. It’s too obvious as a hiding place, and Kim almost wants to scold Chay or give him lessons on how to hide shit he wants to stay hidden, but…it’s the one piece Chay’s chosen in this room. Chay could just grab a backpack and this chest and disappear--anything he wants safe will be in it.

…The chest isn’t even locked, and Kim returns to the urge to go find and grab Chay by his shoulders and shake him until he remembers something about situational awareness, or keeping secrets, or distrusting people, or a lot of other basic caution measures, except Kim’s one of the things Chay’s currently keeping himself safe from, so that definitely won’t do him any favors. Kim settles for closing his eyes and sighing deeply through his nose.

Then he opens the chest to reveal…tentacles. Literally dozens of plastic tentacles.

What?

Kim stares down at the chest full of…plastic octopus legs? Or, at least, the tips of several of them, in all varieties of colors, from coral pink to a deep, shimmery blue. Kim even grabs one that glistens like oil slick when he moves it in the dim sunlight. They all vary in shape too, some are more sleek with just tiny bumps and ridges in different patterns, some with thick bases and thin tips and others with thin bodies and flared heads, others with strangely realistic suckers that yield under his finger tips, and then even more underneath those that look far too strange to be called proper tentacles. Kim pulls out a deep green one with a cute flower at the base and a body that curls aggressively, another that’s mostly straight but has the look of chewed bubble gum, and yet another that’s shorter than the rest but twice as thick and covered in bulging bumps.

It’s not until Kim finally pulls out a toy covered in flared ridges, scales, and other alarming geometry, but also distinctly phallic, does his brain finally accept that all of these are dildos.

Chay…Chay has a chest of sex toys in his room.

Chay has a chest of sex toys in his room.

Kim’s brain gives up. His face is too hot for him to think, his ears are ringing with what he’s quite sure is literal steam coming directly off his brain. He keeps pulling out more new toys, unable to stop. There’s one that looks like a tongue, with twice as many veins and a bumpy texture that is much too real for the scraps of his sanity. An alarmingly long and bendy tube with a pretty rainbow gradient and a disturbing number of knobs. A dark blue dildo that seems strangely plain until it lights up with half a dozen glittery rings when he accidentally squeezes the base too hard.

Pretty, Kim thinks, then is so startled by the sound of his own thoughts he misses the sound of the door clicking open behind him.

“Kim?”

Kim actually startles, whacking his knee on the chest of sex toys, and comes face-to-face with Chay.

…While sitting in a half-circle of monster dicks.

Chay’s eyes dart from him, to the toys on the floor, to the chest, and blushes all the way to his ears. “Kim?”

#kinnporsche #fic: making assumptions #kimchay #me: i'll write this if i think it'll stay under 10k #first chapter alone: is ~7k #draft: is well over 20k already #me: am not anywhere near done #hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha #who thought this was a good idea #anyways please wish me luck as i work thru this emotional hurdle aaaaaaaa #if i get enough of the beginning done ima start posting at the end of the month #fingers crossedddddd

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karmaisntab · 7 days

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I’VE JUST FINISHED CHAPTER TWO AT 9809 WORDS INCLUDING CHAPTER 1 Y’ALL WE’RE HALFWAY THERE 😭

On another, delightful note, I think you all will rather like the ending of it :3

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compacflt · 1 year

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the only thing i ever wanna write anymore is icemav just being old and married and happy in retirement (so many thousands of words just dedicated to that & i have no idea where to post it)

#if you would believe it the boat discussion goes on for another page #i might make a third fic in the series for like low-effort low-tier content #including the 20k slider one-shot i cannot seem to edit down #& the like 10k words of just them being cute & dumb together over the years #just little snapshots #some of which are so sweet in the early 2010s that it actively harms the thematic arc of them not talking about it #because if they’re that sweet then they don’t need to talk about it lol #im just soooo tired of writing them sad and unfulfilled AGH #icemav #top gun #top gun maverick #when we get around to talking about it #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fanfiction #feel like im edging u guys with content only half posted like this #but i genuinely don’t know where else to put it #it’s just redundant in the series as it stands rn #so yeah maybe i should just make a 3rd fic

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butmakeitgayblog · 1 year

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Can we get a snippet of whatever you are writing for #MBFW? Kind of missing my favorite two idiots.

Aight this completely unedited, literally just copy and pasted from the doc without looking it over so excuse any mess ups 😬

Snippet from their first time

/////////

The hallway smelled of stale perfume and mildew with just a hint of old, teenage sweat. The air thick with hormones and heisted dining hall treasures left forgotten and traces of lingering academic regret. The carpet muffled the thuds of their footsteps as they took their sweet tipsy time, winding away from the communal clump of rooms toward the block of private singles on the other side.

Lexa wondered if it was the alcohol flowing through her veins that altered her brain power, or if the kiss that still sat heavy on her lips was entirely to blame. She ran her tongue along her teeth, ground it against the ridged roof of her mouth in a nervous tick, still tasting hints of cherry vodka mixed with the sweetness of her best friend's lips.

The strum and thump of base grew distant, swelled and died along with the few snickered cheers at their departure. The fingers lazily twined with her own gave a little squeeze when they pulled even with a now familiar door. She'd been wet for hours. Biting her lip and digging her nails in just too hard for comfort, anything to just to keep her composure while surrounded by the chatter of upperclassmen. Bodies pressed tight in a sea of sweaty bodies, moving to the base of unknown songs as she'd held Clarke close. Ass grinding into the cradle of her hips. Lips ghosting lines along her neck

She'll wonder for years if she looked as dopey as she felt, smiling so brightly, so gently in the dimmed light of that dorm corridor. But it didn't matter. Not when blue eyes glanced at her with such heat over the bend of a bare shoulder.

Blood rushed hot in Lexa's veins when they pulled to a stop just outside Clarke's door. The alcohol and perfume and sweat from too many wasted touches as they'd grinded rather obscenely on the makeshift dance floor left Lexa feeling greedy. Hungry for more.

She crowded into Clarke's space, pushing her hips firm against the curve of Clarke's ass. Felt Clarke's shudder as she smoothed her palms over her waist, over her ribs, caressed the softness of her belly and down.

Fingers skating over the button and zip, they nearly collapsed against the door, moan echoing moan when Lexa found the seam of tight jeans and cupped the heat between Clarke's legs.

She grinned at the buck of Clarke's hips, both writhing with each grind against her palm as Lexa rubbed at the wetness hidden beneath tight jeans that let her strokes move so easily. Her other hand slipped up Clarke's ribs and cupped the generous curve of her breast, her arms around Clarke's waist the only thing keeping them up.

Clarke's head fell with a thunk against her door as she covered the hand on her breast and squeezed. "Fuck, Lex."

"I'm trying, love."

Her words, whispered hot into the skin of Clarke's neck, earned her a delicious little whimper.

Clarke unlocked the door with an impatient grunt and shoved it wide, stumbling out of Lexa's hold just long enough to whip around and reach for her again. To find Lexa's hands and pull her closer. Palm to palm, fingers laced, and a spark of fire in blue eyes.

"You coming?" Clarke asked in a teasing hush, using her grip to sway Lexa into her till their chests brushed.

Lexa gave a whiskey-laced nod.

If she had her way, there wasn't a prayer's chance in hell they would be doing anything else.

She let herself be pulled over the threshold. Barely noticed when the door was kicked closed behind her with a rather inconsiderate slam. Couldn't be bothered to take in one single thing other than her friend, this siren, beckoning her forward to a most pleasurable kind of death. Her heart raced as she matched every one of Clarke's slinking steps across the dorm room. Stalking her. Crowding Clarke toward the bed she'd spent hours lounged across pretending to study, sneaking glances and too-intimate touches that never felt like enough, while dreaming of this exact moment.

Her stomach swooped at the look of hunger that darkened such warm and inviting blue. Faces so close she felt each fan of Clarke's breath, so close all it would take was a lift of Lexa's chin to make the charged energy of the spell break.

It didn't feel strange to blindly sneak her fingers under the soft cotton of Clarke's shirt. To find the fiery warmth of skin that laid below. It didn't feel strange to match Clarke's pleased sigh when she obediently raised her arms, letting Lexa pull the shirt over her head in a cascade of blonde that stuck wild and frizzed in the aftermath.

It felt right.

With how easy it all was.

To be touching her friend so intimately. To feel how easily they could shift from serious to giggling with just a look as Lexa reached out and tucked back a few particularly wild curls.

Half-drunk laughs bounced off paper-thin walls between the heat of deep, breathy kisses. Clarke wrenched Lexa's shirt off far less gently, tossing it aside without a care before reeling them back together in a clash of skin.

It felt right to take a moment when their legs hit the bed to kiss her. To let their smiles fall away as Lexa pressed close. Flush against the heated skin of Clarke's body. Belly to belly. Breast to breast, feeling the hard peaks of Clarke's nipples against her own through her bra.

Fingers found the sweat dampened curls that clung along her neck and tugged Lexa into a slower, languid kiss. And Lexa really didn't understand how she had managed these few weeks since they'd met. Of not letting herself kiss her best friend. She couldn't fathom how she'd survived without it, how'd she'd just let herself walk away time and again. Couldn't begin to imagine ever going back to days of not having Clarke, exactly like this…

She settled in Clarke's lap, the tired springs from the surely used-and-abused mattress groaning under their weight as she straddled jean-clad thighs. It felt powerful in that moment, rising up on her knees and feeling the stretch of Clarke's neck as she reached to follow. It felt powerful leaning over her. Seeing such yearning just for her. Leaning down to recapture those perfectly kiss-sheened lips.

Hands slipped up her spine in drags of fingertips and tickling nails as teeth raked over her bottom lip, moaning at the soothing caress of satin tongue that followed. Her hips jerked with a pulse of arousal that pounded hot between her thighs, nodding in a hurry when Clarke clipped Lexa's bra free and followed with her own. Arms twisting and fumbling in the rush to rid themselves of any barriers left until they were bare. Leaving them open to wandering eyes and hands, each hissing in pleasured relief at the soft crush of their breasts.

The groaned sound of Clarke's, "Fuck, I need you," nearly burned Lexa alive.

They pulled back just far enough to gulp down a lungful of air, each still grasping at any bit of skin within reach to keep them close.

"What do you like?" Clarke panted in lust-laden breaths between nips along Lexa's chin, sucking marks Lexa knew she'd pretend to be mad about later as fingers dipped below the waistline of her jeans.

Lost in the feel of hands greedily palming her ass, all Lexa could manage is a strangled, "I don't know."

"Fingers or tongue, babe."

"Either. Just— Whatever you want."

"No, beautiful. I wanna hear you tell me how to how to make you come."

Lexa bit her lip with whimper. "I don't know, just anything. Whatever you want, love. I trust you."

The lips against her collarbones kissed to a devastatingly slow stop.

"Lex... Have you done this before?"

Even in the haze of just how fucking turned on she was and, god, how good Clarke's teeth, lips and tongue felt dragging across her skin, Lexa heard the muffled question against her skin and felt every muscle in her body tense.

"Um," she croaked around the desert lodged in her throat, weighing her answer before settling on the truth. "... No."

It really shouldn't have felt like a revelation at all because she'd been honest with Clarke, with only Clarke, about her upbringing and the years spent mostly in solitude. Hiding these particular pieces of herself away in the shadows of her small town.

But still, it'd become a habit in the weeks leading up to this moment. To skirt around the topic of exes and intimacy, to along the grey areas between insulation and outright lying about all things Lexa wasn't entirely well versed in.

Beyond theory, that is.

She wasn't ashamed to admit it, despite the distinct sudden grip of her fingers on Clarke's shoulders, because she knew the fundamentals backwards and front (quite literally). Had considered herself a walking lesbian encyclopedia since the ripe old age of sixteen, and could rattle off every position and erogenous zone with an ease that she was convinced would put her high school sex ed teacher to shame.

The problem was, embarrassingly, she'd never actually quite gotten around to put all her hard earned knowledge into action. Not with her grandfather and not with balancing her schoolwork and jobs, and she certainly hadn't dared to slip one toe out of line (much less a finger) when accepting the hospitality of those who'd let her crash on their couch for a few days.

So it really shouldn't have been an surprise.

And yet she prepared herself for a stutter of hands all the same. She scrunched her eyes shut to block out the devastation that would come of any judgmental looks when Clarke inevitably pulled back and pushed her away.

Her stomach dropped at the thought of her friend's incredulous look of surprise and dismay.

But… it never came.

In the rather scant amount of time that had seemed to stretch on for miles within the confines of Lexa's own mind, the hot mouth working against her skin had trailed up her neck in a line of lingering kisses to wrap around her earlobe and suck.

She felt the sting of Clarke's smile and the bite of her grin. Felt as much as heard Clarke husk in a voice made of pure sex and smoke against her ear, "Don't worry, baby. I'll show you."

/////////

#anon #MBFW #Clexa #it gets pretty filthy after that #but then there's afterglow #and a snack #and stuff that'll recur in the fic because Andi Likes To Hurt Her Own Feelings 🙂#sorry it's taking so long for everything i know it sucks waiting #i appreciate the patience and the kindness of sticking with me #just been a lot of days of feeling terrible plus doctors appointments and tests #but i am working and moving things along i promise #medusa has like 20k professor au has like 10k this has like 5k and ths main fic has like 3k words #so there's stuff on the horizon i promise

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no-light-left-on · 2 months

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how short/long do you like chapters in the fics you read? is there a minimum/maximum word count you look for or does it fluctuate with different stories and the delivery?

#li.txt #I like longer stuff but its not a necessity tho i am always excited for the longer ones #but also i know massive word counts can feel daunting #ive been reading a bunch of shorter stories that are like 1k words per chapter #and I say shorter cause like lets be real the fics we all swoon over nowadays that update regularly are 10k+ for each chapter #p sure one of my fave whalers-centric fic has a minimum of 20k per chapter #and a really good fic I read years ago was 35k words appx for each chapter #so I know its individual but Im curious about the tastes in this particular fandom at this time

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dnffics · 4 months

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Flashing Signs

by anxiousromantic

Rated T, 11.6k words

Tags: Friends to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization

Summary:

“Oh, great timing, I was just about done here. Do you want some?” The skillet is full of pasta as he places it on the table and turns around to get the plates. George doesn’t move, conflicted about confronting or not since his annoyance has slightly calmed down. Dream looks at him curiously, head tilted in a doglike manner. It’s endearing. “George?” “I’m annoyed at you. You’re not supposed to be nice.” Dream laughs softly, shaking his head and placing two plates on the table anyway.

Or,

George gets confused over his new emotions towards Dream and decides to search for answers on twitter.

#anon.recs #dnf fic #dnf fanfic #dnf #dreamnotfound #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #feelings realization #10k-20k words #rated t #anxiousromantic #oneshot

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somefanficrecomendations · 3 months

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Batlanern Fic Rec

Y’all I have fallen down a rabbit hole with this ship. Is this a rarepair? I think so. If you’re not familiar with this ship, fear not dear reader, I shall educate you. Batlanern is Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne. Here’s a few of my favorite fics!

Ends Against the Middle by forthegreatergood (multi), 10k, Getting Together Of all the obstacles Bruce expected when he decided to make a move on Hal, Oliver's attempt to speed things along wasn't one of them.

Welcome to the Family by ViiAo1 67k, WIP, Batfam Shenanigans Bruce’s children want to meet the man that their father deemed worthy of a smile. So they do, in the only way they know how. By breaking into people's houses and lurking in dark places. Bruce just wants his children to stop stalking Earth’s Green Lantern, if only because they're ruining his plans. And Hal? Well, Hal is convinced that Bruce has concocted a plot to get around his ‘no killing’ rule, by having his children stalk him until his heart gives out from the stress.

Falafel by TotallyARealPerson 3k, A/B/O, Smut Six hours. Six hours is a fairly short amount of time. Six hours without sex should be easy, and it probably would be in any other circumstance. It's all Bruce's fault.

r/everymanshouldknow: How to interact with kids? by Alienu 5k, Fluff (Apparently, the hardest part about dating isn’t actually getting to the dating stage. It's the part where you try to get your boyfriend's assassin trained, murderous, snappy twelve year old son to like you. Hal figures this out the hard way.)

Bruce knows how to swim, and he is will swim up the entire Nile if he has to. Too bad Jason has other plans by arrowupmysleeve 5k, Fluff and Humor Text from Clark K at 10.51: You need to call Hal. He must be freaking out right now.😱 Bruce ignores the text. Just like he has ignored all the others and reaches for the Gotham Gazette's sports section, it seems the Gotham knights lost the game this weekend and that they are considering a trade with the Star City team. Bruce continues to read as the tv drones on in the background at a low volume. "Morning, B." Jason greets as he enters the kitchen and takes the seat. The grin in his voice is audible, and Bruce almost wines. Jason has most definitely seen the news. "Good morning, Jason," Bruce responds without looking up from his paper. His phone starts ringing, and Bruce glances at the caller id. It's Clark, again.

The Last Someone by FabulaRasa (multi), 21k, Discussions of oral sex I decided that what the fandom really needed was yet another object of Pussygate 2021 discourse, so here is my contribution, in which Bruce gets humiliated, Hal gets curious, and they both get what they're looking for. In case you were (blessedly) living under a rock the last few weeks and don't know what any of this is about, here is your starter kit.

#batlantern fic rec #batman fic rec #green lantern fic rec #batlantern #batman #green lantern #hal jordan #hal jordan x bruce wayne #bruce wayne #words: 0-5k #words: 5-10k #WIP #fic roundup #words: 10k #words: 20k #words: 60k

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