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#just write better goddammit
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idk as far as revenge goes this is pretty mid. he's too young and impatient and a show off, he should have waited until she got attached to him. he should have waited for her to have/adopt another kid. and then run them over. he should have waited for that kid to have kids of their own. and then run them over. where is villainy where is grandeur
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nebuladreamz · 8 months
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thegirlwholied · 2 years
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retcons. they're a writing tool. they're not fundamentally a bad tool. though I greet them more often with an "ugh, retcon" than a "nice, retcon"-
and that's often because they're overwrites. sometimes carelessly so, the 'didn't pay enough attention to what came before'/'guess I changed it' route. And sometimes retcons are the 'that's not the story I want to tell now or I can do better than that' route.
Andor is doing the second type of retcon, and interestingly so, because there wasn't a whole lot there to retcon *and yet* they are managing to do that.
When Rogue One came out, Disney dropped a bunch of expanded universe material. The NEW expanded universe, because they'd already ditched the old one, to avoid conflicts; this new one could be consistent (ha, ha, ha).
In those 2016 detail books we got the facts on Cassian Andor's backstory: from the planet Fest (clearly carefully chosen for its old EU history), father killed during a protest against militarization on Imperial Academy planet Carida (another world with EU history), involved with a Separatist cell from age 6 on...
Anddd anyone who'd read those extended materials knew Andor the show was ditching that backstory within seconds of him dropping the name 'Kenari' in context that was immediately clear it was his home planet. I appreciated at least getting a nod to the backstory we had since 2016 with dropping that his 'cover story' planet was Fest. They definitely were aware and chose not to go that route. And that's OK! they have a story they want to tell, they're digging into some interesting themes and meanings and...
Well. Either way it's a retcon. A minor one that 97% of the audience will never notice or care about. And yes they're still keeping to the spirit of that key line in Rogue One-
"I've been in this fight since I was six years old"
- clearly the mining disaster on Kenari presumably happened when Cassian was six years old. So his childhood was ruined by the Empire then and he's been resisting them ever since, it's not that it renders it untrue it's just-
it's just that he's pulling a moral high ground with that line over Jyn whose life was also ruined by the Empire at eight years old and was raised as a child soldier by Saw Gerrera, a character whose very name is designed to evoke guerilla warfare...?
I mean a Cassian who's already been in prison and is scrapping by and sticking it to the Imperials all he can, drawing those character parallels between them even closer then are we, but the whole crux of that (excellently written & filmed I'm still not over it) argument hinges on Cassian's relationship with/committment to the Rebellion above all else. The show's retcon has just... shortened that relationship. By quite quite a bit.
And there is now some unintentional irony, from this retcon, if Jyn was actually (via Saw's cell) part of the Rebellion longer than Cassian.
...it's fine, it's fine, tbh watch them retcon Jyn's backstory soon enough, it's a very minor retcon and maybe future episodes will reveal Cassian has been doing more actual rebelling than it seems and... nonetheless. Ugh retcon.
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essektheylyss · 1 year
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Wild that I constantly complain about having to write wizard research when I am the only one subjecting myself to writing about wizard research, and even wilder that I'm now doing that while also having to build in my own handrails for the magic system. Hell on earth.
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barebcnes · 5 months
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@paramounticebound asked: ‘ numbers do not lie. politics and poetry, promises, these are lies. numbers are as close as we get to the handwriting of god. ‘
How poetic. Yet, Leonard has long since learned that Khan tends to be exactly that - poetic, in one way or another. It makes sense; His whole existence is poetic if one were to look at it from a different perspective, and so are his chosen words from time to time.
It's funny, considering the other has just said that poetry is a lie, yet here he is, exchanging words with McCoy who almost feels a bit amused by the contradiction - and the intense sincerety Khan speaks with, as if he's ttrying to carve the word of god into slates made of pure marble.
Yet he's right with what he's said: Numbers are solid, the conclusion of many what-if's, while promises and poetry oftentimes consists of wishes, but not of fait accompli. However, it does not mean that every bit of poetry and every single spoken promise is made of lies; Perhaps, to Khan, it feels like such, considering his past and what he's gone through.
And to be honest? God, Leonard can relate. In more than just one way. While his past is disctintively different - thank fucking Jesus, Maria and Joseph - he's gone through his own fair share of promises that turned out to be false, and words of poetry that have been written onto his skin without ever having been truly meant.
It's disappointing, sad even, and that's why Leonard does not chuckle, nor allows a smirk to play along his lips from the short-lived amusement that had briefly existed within him. He merely hums a low, thoughtful tone from somewhere inside his chest; His nimble, warmed up fingers continue to press into Khan's neck, the spot where a strong jaw attaches to an equally as strong muscle, feeling for lymphatic glands during what is a routine check-up necessary for someone who's been frozen twice.
Khan, however, is here. That's almost a miracle in itself - awoken from another slumber made of the freezing cold, alive, breathing. 300 years old.
"---Seventy-two.", is what the doctor says then, after a few seconds of silence have passed between them. He inhales, then exhales, fingers applying a bit more pressure as he finds what he's searching for, deeming the shape and size of the glands perfectly normal.
"And you. Seventy-three."
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Only then a pair of hazel eyes flicks up, away from a neck that should have no right to be this long, slender and durable at the same time; His gaze meets Khan's own, lingers, accompanied by a hint of a bittersweet, lopsided smile.
"It's a number. And it's a truth. You're all here, you're all alive. It might not change what has happened in the past, but... I tend to keep my promises."
The promise of not letting another soul die under his attention. No matter what's going to happen in the near future, these people are, well, exactly that: People. Leonard is a doctor. He swore to cause no harm - and he won't.
"...Okay?"
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hate it when the annoying self-care advice actually works
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whumpshaped · 1 year
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czascornertfs · 3 months
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Revenge: Jock Bro Style
"Whoa broski! WTF r u doin bro?!" The deep voice of one of the jocks echoed in the hallway.
"BROCK ANDERSON! You shut your mouth and move out the way, NOW!" Colin Foster, head of the English club of the neighboring college, shouted back. He had just come back from a tiring activity about writing some kind of novel, when he had the misfortune of bumping right into Brock Anderson: apparently the school's most feared and revered football players, hanging out with his small group of friends. He was just trying to visit an old friend of his, a fellow English teacher just a few floors up.
"Huhuh, sorry duude..." Brock responded, his deep bass voice resonating in Colin's ears. This irritated Colin more, as in the moment he felt as though he was being disrespected. They didn't even call him sir for crying out loud, he though to himself, as he felt his fury rise. "You absolute DIMWITS! I am at my wits end trying to just get through the day and burly asses decided to just block my way JUST TO TALK?!" Colin hurled more and more insults. He didn't even know why he was this angry at something so insignificant, but the day's stresses got the better of him.
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Pushing his way through the jocks, he was about to walk the other direction when Brock shouted. "HEY! You do not get to talk about us like that!" he spoke loudly and firmly, pointing his fingers in Colin's direction. Brock's friends stayed quiet behind him, the one beside him mockingly scrunching his "angry" face. Colin was taken aback by Brock's sudden proficiency in English, but he simply tutted, turned around, and walked briskly away from the jocks. Brock placed his hands down, and calmly walked away from his friends, opening his phone and dialing some number he found on the net. "I'd like to purchase one of your little games..."
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Night came, as Colin begrudgingly sat on his desk chair and turned on his laptop. It was time to grade yet another set of papers made by some of his students. It was nearing midnight when he finally yawned, placing his hands on his tired face. "God I'm turning 45 just round the corner...." he mumbled to himself. He thought back to the incident that happened earlier that day, and closed his eyes. He knew shouldn't have been that angry, and yet he still hated them. His type, the damn jocks. "Dumb lumbering pieces of meat", he thought to himself.
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Just then, a notification popped up. Opening it, he saw something which made his stomach drop.
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"...Brock?" He mumbled to himself. Rolling his eyes at the horrible typography and spelling, he begrudgingly nodded understandingly. Looking at the bottom, he saw a link to this "present". "Jockify. Some kinda' new workout app maybe? Could use a few of those." Colin chuckled to himself. He was known to be quite skinny. Clicking it, a file downloaded on his computer. After unzipping it, he clicked on the app and it began loading. As it did, something caught his eye. The appearance of the pop-up seemed...old. REALLY old. Windows XP old. "Jesus, is this a virus..." he groaned, tapping his fingers on his desk. Finally, the pop-up loaded.
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Colin gasped in shock as he flung himself backwards to his chair's backrest. First, what the hell was this "bro'd" thing and why the fuck did Brock send this. Second, this did NOT look like a typical Windows XP pop-up, or really any pop-up for that matter. Everything seemed wrong, and Colin sighed exhaustedly. "Goddammit Brock." he mumbled angrily. But as his cursor went over to close it, the cursor went haywire. Try as he might, he couldn't close the pop-up. He even tried the last resort, turning the laptop off and then on again. The pop-up was still there. He wanted to put this off for tomorrow, but he still had some papers left to go over. Slapping himself across the face, he pushed forward and clicked the underlined link below.
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*click*
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When it appeared, Colin immediately tried to close it. But he felt something tingling on his legs, arms, hands, neck-- it was everywhere. He immediately tried to scratch these parts, when the tingling turned into pain. His legs ballooned with lean muscle as he felt his pants shift. As the pants suddenly shredded themselves he felt his bulge vibrate and pulsate as his cock erupted forth from his groin. The pain sent Colin stand up immediately and went limping to the bathroom as he surveyed it. Standing fully erect and having grazed a table leg so hard it sent waves of orgasmic pleasure down his whole body, Colin looked down.
(Colin's cock)
"J-jesus fuck..." Colin whispered in overwhelming pleasure as his cock stood tall. Placing his hand next to it, he figured it was maybe a full 10 inches long. But the changes were only beginning. As he tried to limp back with his cock swinging between his legs, he fell onto the ground as more and more muscle rippled through his body. He felt his spine elongate and stretch, as did his bones, tendons, and everything in between. With a few ghastly pops and cracks, he groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, grasping his cock with one hand trying to contain himself. As his clothes shredded themselves, they seemed to have disappeared into thin air entirely. Colin was scared. And overwhelmingly horny.
(Colin's body)
After a few pained breaths, he slowly stood up, now a towering giant of 6 foot 10 inches. He walked over slowly back to the laptop, huffing carefully as he grasped his cock, which was now a full 12-inch long hunk of meat. "...g-gOD..." Colin mumbled, clutching at his throat in surprise at the deeper voice he now had. He wanted this nightmare to end, and desperately tried to close the pop-up. But instead, the cursor moved itself towards the link.
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*click*
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"SHIT! Oh god...p-please, no moOO-" Colin was barely able to complete his pleas of mercy when his feet burst through his socks. The pain was more tolerable this time, as he clenched his jaws the entire time his feet grew larger. What was then a US size 14 had grown into hunks of size 21 meat. "Meat. Meat. Meat.", the word swirled around in Colin's head, staring at his feet while laying down, still naked, on the floor. Pushed on by the caption in the pop-up, he slowly placed his nose near his feet and took a sniff. They smelled like old socks, much to his chagrin. At least it didn't smell that bad.
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Taking a few deep breaths, he went back to the laptop and placed his hands on the mouse. If Brock wanted to play dirty, he would at least try to not go down without a fight. He wanted to see what was at the end of this stupid "game".
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*click*
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As the pop-up appeared, a foul stench suddenly greeted his nose. Looking down, he saw that over his naked muscled bod were some new clothes. They all stunk. Keeling his head over to his armpits, he felt the warm sweat greet his face, as the stench of....manliness...pierced his nostrils. "...manliness?" Colin grumbled to hismelf. Why the hell did he describe it like that? Then he turned to his feet, new socks draped over them. Carefully removing the socks revealed the insides to be horrendously stained brown with what seemed to be weeks worth of sweat and dirt. Tossing them aside in the pile, he was about to take a whiff when it hit him. "Pile?" No, he was better than that. He always placed his socks in the washing machine but...there was a pile. He had a pile. And somehow, he knew there was a pile. A pile of dirtied, smelly socks.
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He looked back at his feet and took a long whiff.
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The putrid smell knocked him out, as he fell back on the floor with his head spinning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*click* As he woke up, he found himself sitting in front of the laptop, his hands already placed atop the mouse. He had clicked without knowing it. Colin looked around himself, as he noticed he was no longer in his shoddy apartment. He was now in some dingy room, the walls covered with posters of men, medals, awards, trophies, and the floor covered with piles of dirty unwashed clothing. His chair had turned into some dirty couch, as the desk had turned into a coffee table. His nose wrinkled at the horrible smell that was now everywhere. He closed his eyes in mild panic. "I-It's a'ight Colin. J-just get to the e-end."
After a few breaths, he opened them.
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Colin's face warped into that of horror. "D-Dumb?!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt a crushing headache as he leaned forward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Slowly, the rest of hid body tightened up, as his age went down, stopping to reveal he had now regressed back into a 25-year old stud. Slowly but surely, his neurons began to either disintegrate or reorganize. All of that sophisticated schooling slowly slipped away, as he also began to lose memories he had even gone to them to begin with. With the loss of his intelligence, drool began to pool in his mouth, before seeping out in a small fine stream of saliva. What was once a proud IQ of 120 was struck down to a mind-numbing 50. Just enough to let him follow simple instructions and live comfortably. "...huhuh bro.....s-stop b-brooo...." he groaned, chuckling mindlessly at himself as he placed his sweaty feet on the desk with a loud thump as he stretched his legs. But inside, there was still a piece of him that wanted to fight back. Memories that he used to be a greater, smarter person. Someone who had the brains to deal with all kinds of bullshit. He wanted to turn back into that person.
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Colin moved on, clicking the pop-up again.
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*click*
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"...th-the End....b-broOOo?" Colin mumbled in a jock-like inflection. Inside, he panicked. He still remembered he used to have the ability to read this without difficulty, but as he started to read the pop-up he found himself struggling to piece together what the alphabet even meant to sound like. "I.....w-wAnna g-gO.....b-back broOo...." Colin mumbled desperately. Even though he was in a new world of bliss, he wanted to turn back. He had learned his les--.wait...lesson for doing what again?
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*click*
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Colin stared dumbfounded at the equation. A simple equation. He remembered it was simple, but he somehow couldn't find the answer. The text on screen was almost illegible, as his brain filled in the gaps with a few words he knew.
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Colin leaned forward in fear. "...bro....I d-don't...k-knOw.....huhu...f-fUck dude...i d-dOn't wAnna b-be a BRO....like...BRO....". Wracking his mind for any semblance of even a number to place, he gave up. The pain of trying to think was too much, as the last bits of his intelligence seeped out from his mouth...and cock.
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He typed nonsense. It was all he knew.
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*click*
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"huhu...f-fuUUCK BRO" Colin winced at the screen. There was Brock's face, proudly showing a middle finger. His body convulsed with pleasure as more cum slowly but surely seeped down into his shorts. And now he was at the end. With nowhere else to turn, Colin clicked the pop-up as it closed.
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*click*
Immediately, his mind went blank. Colin...who the fuck was Colin again? Cum continued flowing out his throbbing cock, as another dull feeling washed over his brain. C... Co... Col... Colt... Colt shook his head as he looked down at the laptop. There on the screen was Brock's face, plastered with the words "FUK U DUDE".
"huhuh...b-brock dude...wanna s-smell m-my...f-feet bro..."
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It was now two years later, and a lot has changed for the two jocks. For one, Brock had finally passed his third year of college after many many attempts at the exam. Knocking at the door of his new apartment, Brock opened the door.
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"Guess what bro...I got an A+!" Brock flexed in Colt's face, cockily chuckling to himself as the he went back to his room.
Colt could only mumble incoherently, slouching his hulking body over as his eyes went everywhere but Brock. Brock smiled. After finding Colt in his dingy room following the conversion, he managed to sneak him into the school, becoming his own personal pet jock. After crafting elaborate fake emails saying "Colin" had quit his job and moved to Canada, "Colin" slowly faded from the public's memory.
After moving out from the school dorms, he found a new apartment nearby and rented a large enough room. With Colt in tow, he now had time to let him roam out to the different gyms across town whenever he was in class or out working. This had the added perk of keeping him both docile and bulking him up a little more. He had the mind of an animal now anyways, and he knew exactly when and where to find his coach when the time comes.
As Colt sat down on what was now a small couch to him and grabbing a bottle of beer, Brock slapped him across the face, making Colt grunt and drool all over himself.
"That's right dumbass. I'm on top now. No one even knows who you are anymore." Brock said, stuffing Colt's mouth with his fingers, puppeteering his head side to side before taking them out. Colt only chuckled as he placed the bottle back in his mouth. "...t-top...b-brooo...huhuhuh..."
"And who's a good dumb jock bro now hmm?"
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"M-me...d-dumb....jOck...brooo huhuh..."
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intoxicated-chan · 3 months
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❜𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞
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Summary ➳ Daryl never liked it when the neighborhood cop Shane came around. You, oblivious to Shane’s attempts to flirt with you and don’t see the fuming Daryl.
(A/n) ➳ Inspired by “You” by Ari Abdul. Those who are waiting for the first chapter of JUDAS, it’s almost done. I’m just finishing the final touches before it’s uploaded. This is also very rushed, I’m sorry.
Word Count ➳ 900
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, MODERN AU/NO OUTBREAK, DUB-CON, SHANE, jealous Daryl, sexual content, p-in-v, protected sex, phone sex, hair pulling, pet names (baby, darlin’), overstimulation, little dacryphilia…
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“Goddammit Daryl!” You clutched the sheets under you as Daryl pulled your head back by your hair. “S-Slow down!” You cried out.
Daryl seemed to ignore your plea, his eyes remained on your ass and how it jiggled by each hard thrust. He continuously slammed into your g-spot, doing so without mercy.
You had no idea what’s gotten into him, he was perfectly fine this morning…
But Daryl knew what was wrong, he was angry, maybe at you but most of his anger was focused on that shitty cop.
Shane Walsh.
Daryl never believed Shane’s bullshit excuses whenever he came around your neighborhood. It was like he knew when Daryl was around, he knew of his record and his brother’s which is why he always stood back and remained silent.
Daryl was out on your driveway working on your beat-up car. He used his arm to wipe away the layer of sweat on his forehead. You had brought out a glass of ice-cold water for him, you went back inside to retrieve a rag as he asked.
“Dixon!”
Daryl froze at that voice, he cursed Shane under his breath. He turned his head slightly, enough to get a view of Shane who exited his car and walked up to him.
“(Y/n) home?” He asked, his hands on his belt as a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face.
“Busy.” He grunted in response, going back to your car.
“Mind if check?” He took a couple of steps towards your door before Daryl stood in his way.
“I’ll get ‘er.” He didn’t bother taking a second glance at him because he knew Shane had won… Yet fucking again.
You had come down the stairs, a couple of rags in hand. “I didn’t think one would be enough-“
“Cop ‘ere.” He told you, taking the rags. “Lookin’ for ya.”
“Shane? Again?” You lifted an eyebrow and peered through your window to see Shane standing there, giving you a wave. “What’s he here for?”
“The hell should I know.”
You made your way outside, seeing Shane leaning up against his patrol car. “Hey, Shane, what brings you here?”
“Just checkin’ in, makin’ sure you’re alright. Y’know, keepin’ the neighborhood safe.” Shane’s eyes lingered down your neck, he fixed his posture, getting himself a better look at your cleavage.
“Well, everythin’ is fine here. Nothin’ to report.” You let out an awkward chuckle, fixing your shirt.
Back in the house, Daryl stayed by the window, jaw clenched as his hands formed into fists.
Shane leaned in, way too close for comfort. “You free tonight?”
“I- What?” It took you a couple of seconds before his words sunk in. “No, no. I’ll be here… with my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Shane mocked. “Hard to believe a redneck like Daryl Dixon could be your boyfriend.”
“You don’t know shit, Shane. Find some other woman to ask out.” You sighed, growing frustrated.
Shane pulled out his pen and notepad, writing something. “It’s only a matter of time before he disappoints you. Call me when he’s gone or you want somethin’ better.” Ripping the paper, took your hand, and pushed into it.
Shane Walsh had crossed a line…
Daryl remembered snatching the number out of your hands and nearly ran out of the house just to punch him. You dragged him back to the room just to get him to call him.
“D-Daryl!” You mewled, shutting your eyes as you felt your hot tears slip.
“That’s it, baby, say my name.” He growled. He didn’t stop, even when you tightened around his cock, another orgasm coming down on you.
He released his hold on your hair, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He picked up his phone and began to dial the number. He left it by your head and on speaker.
“C’mon baby, let ‘im hear you.” He turned you over onto your back and shoved a pillow under your hips, letting him go deeper inside of you.
It felt like you were screaming, you couldn’t focus anymore. Not on Daryl, not on the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall… It’s a surprise that nobody had called to complain.
“Keep ya eyes on me darlin’.” He said, his hands coming to your wrists to keep them from covering your face when you tried to. “Look at me.” He demanded.
You opened your eyes to meet his blue ones, he licked his lips as his eyes were clouded.
Your nails dug into your hands. “Daryl! Daryl! Daryl!” You chanted his name over and over again, your legs coming around his hips to pull him closer.
That’s when you felt the pit again. “Daryl-!”
“C’mon, cum ‘round my cock. Let ‘im know who’s makin’ you feel like this, scream like this.” Daryl let out one final grunt as he came.
Your eyes shut instinctively as your back arched from the bed. Everything became white noise as you were sure you screamed louder than you could, waves and ripples.
Daryl slummed over your body, too tired to push him off or say anything.
He picked up the phone and smirked when he saw the call’s duration, he could hear panting on the other side. He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, hearing it hit something.
“Stay with me darlin’.” Daryl sneered at your fucked out face. “I ain’t gonna be done with ya for a long time.”
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.
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y3ager · 6 months
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STORYTIME I (26 F) FUCKED MY SUPERSTAR CLIENT (24 M) AFTER MONTHS OF SEXUAL TENSION!
— ‘i’m a manager for a pretty big music label and my client is the biggest dickhead in the world but i fear i fucked him after one of our usual arguments.. 😵‍💫’
eren y. x black!fem!reader
tags: modern au, smut, porn not much plot, hate(?)sex, cunnilingus, cowgirl, reader gets called ‘mama’ and ‘boss’, unprotected sex, mild choking, musician!eren, manager!reader. minors do not interact.
my first collab entry MAKE SOME NOISE YALL WTF!!! but no seriously thanks so much to @k9nto for letting me join your event i had a blast writing this! hope you all enjoy! 🤭
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YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED SOME annoying people in your life. in kindergarten, a boy taunted you by picking up one your fallen hot pink knocker-balls and refusing to give it back to you. in high school, some chick named tiffany ripped down all of your junior class president posters that you spent weeks designing and printing out on the highest quality paper. your college advisor had been completely useless, you’d still be dragging yourself through your bachelor’s degree if you didn’t stay on your toes and realize the classes you were dropped in were a waste of time. but all of these people, and many more that have slipped your mind, shaped and molded you into the woman you were today. strong, tenacious, independent, a go-getter who never gave up and thus was able to reap her hard work, in the form of three nice crisp degrees and a never pitiful bank account.
but eren yeager, grammy award winning singer, songwriter and musician, with multiple weeks spent at the top of the billboard hot 100 and 200 charts, millions of units sold worldwide, and stadiums packed to the brim, took the fucking cake.
you were warned he’d be difficult. every manager he’s assigned quits before one of them ends up in a body bag. none of them have a single nice thing to say about him, and he finds that hilarious.
for better or for worse, you took the challenge because you’re a sucker for them. nothing in life comes easy, and you figured that the managers before just didn’t come hard enough. maybe eren’s fame and status made them falter, but such a fate wouldn’t befall you.
you dragged him to his magazine shoots, you kept his mouth in line during interviews, you kept his socials clean. he was never a second late to rehearsals and recordings. he was a reflection of you, and if you were perfect goddammit he was going to be too.
until today.
“i’m not putting in another extension, eren. the label is starting to get really irritable. we need to go to the studio now.” you furiously swiping along your ipad, pacing around the singer’s deluxe hotel room. while you’re dressed for the day in clean crisp clothes, sharp stilettos, and jet black lace front expertly melted and laid, eren’s still in the bed. the covers are everywhere, his shirt is next to a couple pillows on the floor, and he’s laying on his back eating a croissant from room service, paying you absolutely no mind. it takes everything in you to not chuck your device at his big head. “i’m serious. get. up.”
“and i said i’m not,” he mocks your assertive tone, voice oozing in sarcasm. “going.” he coughs, obviously faking. “my voice hurts. can’t make those greedy bastards money if my vocal chords ache. they’ll live.”
“you are on a strict deadline this era. if you want to catch award season, this album needs to be finished and dropped in the next month. amidst the press tour, your window of recording time is dwindling fast.” dates in your digital calendar glare at you, red and angry. every time you check something off your to do, ten new things pop up. you feel your jaw clenching, teeth gritting together uncomfortably.
“i’ve won enough awards. i don’t care. i’m not getting up.” eren finally raises up from the bed, narrowed green eyes meeting yours. it’s fire against fire, an unstoppable force that is a manager determined to do her job versus an immovable object, a musician who’s not budging from his spot. “it’s my album. it’s my music. i finish it when the fuck i get ready. that label will burn before they drop me.”
“if you don’t follow contract, they will drop you. they put a lot of money into you-”
“money i made back for those dumbasses-!”
“they are your bosses, without them-”
“they need me way more than i need them-!”
“get,” you toss your ipad over to a small couch, storming over to the bed. you snatch the edge of the covers and yank hard. enough is enough. if he won’t get up, you’ll make him get up. “the fuck out of this bed, eren, now!”
“you need,” the cover is yanked back, tugging you forward along with it. you lurch momentarily before righting yourself upwards, leaning back to give yourself more leverage in this childish tug of war you find yourself in. “to calm the fuck down, ___. i’m not going and that’s fucking it.” eren may be lean, but he’s toned like a MMA fighter, muscles rippling under tan skin when he calls upon them. another tug and you topple onto the california king bed, one expensive heel sliding off your foot and falling across the room.
your heads snaps up from the covers, brow furrowed deep in anger. “stop being so fucking difficult, you moron!” emotions welling, you grab one of his arms, preparing to drag him out of this bed. your to do list is a nagging itch on your brain that by the grace of god you are going to scratch. you’re not about to let this bad-with-authority dickhead best you when all he has to do is record a fucking vocal.
“oh, we’re doing this?” easily, too easily, so easily that you register your back hitting the soft bed before you realized he even grabbed you back. he pins you down easily, slightly calloused hands grip your upper arms firmly, pushing them down. he places his legs other either side of your hips so yours are forced in between them, but doesn’t keep you from writhing to free yourself. “whatever fucking—stop doing that—chip you have on your shoulder, you need to fucking solve it because shit’s not going your way today. i’m not going and that is final.”
the tussle leaves you two of you panting, eyes boring into each other’s. eren’s long chocolate brown hair is disheveled not only from a night’s sleep but from this impromptu wrestle. small beads up sweat trickle down his naked chest. your writhe again, and he presses down against you, a synonymous hiss sliding through both of your mouths.
“i hate you, eren.”
“whatever helps you sleep at night, ___. looks like you wanted an excuse to feel up on me.”
“oh, like you wanted an excuse to hump me like a mutt?”
there’s another beat of silence as you two watch each other. eren’s hands tighten their hold just a tad before he presses his hardening length hard against your clothed cunt. against your better judgement, your head tilts back and a small moan fights against your bitten bottom lip.
eren hums lowly, his dick bulging against the constraint of his boxers. “hate me too much to actually fuck me, huh? i’m only worth a dry hump.”
oh how eren frustrates you. how he makes even the simplest things in life painstakingly difficult. how he makes you want to smoke ten packs of cigarettes after a day of dealing with him. but oh, how handsome he looks under the lights at photo shoots. how his deep, smooth voice reverbs in your ears. how his fingers move so deftly on his guitar, as if it’s merely an extension of his body. who wouldn’t fantasize about that late at night, him bending you over and snatching down your pants to fuck the stress out of you, or yourself knocking him down a peg and making him beg to let you cum inside.
“shut-” another roll of his hips makes you gasp. “up..”
“i want you, ___,” eren confesses. his hips don’t falter, his cock becoming hungry for release. “i want that pussy. i wanna fuck that little attitude out of you, can i? i see how you look at me and i stare right back.”
you shiver, hand rushing to undo your dress pants and feel more of eren’s dick against your dampening cunt. his hands work with your perfectly, yanking your pants down. it’s a whirlwind of clothes, your sweater, bra, your other shoe.
eren reaches up to grab your breasts, rolling them in his palms, squeezing the supple flesh, pushing them together. “oh, pretty girl. pretty fuckin’ tits.” leaning down, he kisses down your sternum, stomach, inching closer and closer to your center. he wastes no time grabbing your thighs and licking a nice, long stripe against your drooling cunt and sucking on your clit.
your back immediately arches up and your hands fly to grip eren’s hair, tugging at the locks and pulling him in closer so you can feel everything. “oh my god, eren.” the singer’s not shy at all, audibly sucking at you and reaching up to twist and pinch your pebbled nipples.
with another languid lick eren pulls himself away. he pulls his boxers down on and off, freeing his dick from the constraint. he rubs the thick, weeping tip up and down your slit, staring hungrily at the juices leaking out. the feeling of it makes you shiver in anticipation.
“mmm, mm-mm.” you push yourself up. “let me get ‘n top..” there’s a greedy look in your low eyes as you place your hand on eren’s solid chest and lay him down on the bed.
“take charge here too, huh?” your forwardness makes him chuckle as he watches you straddle his waist. “okay then. ride me.”
you brace yourself on your toes as his hand and yours grasp his shaft, directing it to your pulsing hole. you slide down gingerly onto him, his size quickly stretching you out. “ahh, fuck, eren. fuck…”
“you got it,” he assures you, one hand on your thigh as you sink lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. he bites his lip at the wet tightness of your walls, squeezing and sucking him in. it makes him throw his head back, a couple of small pants escaping his mouth. “mmhm, fuck that pussy feels so good. take that dick, boss.” his hand raises only to land on your ass check with a sharp slap.
you start out slow at first, letting yourself adjust to the wideness of his dick but that quickly gets old. you’re soon addicted to the feeling of him fitting inside so perfectly. gripping his free hand in yours, you swivel and raise your hips faster and faster, effortlessly, desperate for that feeling of him pounding that oh so sweet spot. your juices slide down his length, the slap slap slap of your ass against his muscled thighs filling the room. “‘s so big, feels so good,” your voice slurs.
eren hisses from his spot under you, eyes trained on where you two connect. mouth slightly agape, he watches your cunt swallow him up and the fluid that leaks out. “yes, mama. keep fucking me just like that. feels.. f-fuckin’ amazin’…” his hands grab your plump ass cheeks, fingers digging in hard as he thrusts his hips up, driving the tip of his cock even deeper inside you and pulling a loud moan from you. “keep goin, mama, ‘m almost there, don’t stop, please..”
his pleading make you clench even tighter around him, and that feeling deep inside your tummy aches for release. you place a hand around his throat to better balance yourself, relishing in his low groan. your thighs quake and tremble, your hips meeting his eager thrust perfectly. “oh, my god; oh my god. i’m— shit!” you throw your head back in ecstasy, cumming hard enough on your client’s dick to leave you numb.
“aw, fuck, boss.” eren thrusts up to push his cum deep inside, holding you against himself to ensure a single drop doesn’t leak. “take it, take it..”
the two of you are left panting hard, bodies sweaty and gleaming with the afterglow of sex. you gingerly pull away, cunt left sore and spent from a round of sex months in the making. eren reaches over to caress your ebon lips, admiring the smooth, wet feeling once you roll onto your back. “no more attitude from you, yeah?”
“no more attitude from the man reduced to calling me ‘mama’ and begging to cum either, i’d assume.” your teasing laughter is cut off by him purposefully sinking three fingers deep inside you. “mmh…”
“mhm, sure.” roles reversed, eren climbs on top of you and stares down with green eyes aflame with lust through his tousled brown hair. “now i want to see what i can make you call me.”
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suzukiblu · 2 months
Note
Timkon + "Tim has no idea if it's some lingering aftermath from Poison Ivy (even though they haven't fought her for a month) but when he walks into the Tower for his next Titans mission and Kon smiles at him, Tim is suddenly aware of how much he wants to lick the back of Kon's stupid, perfect teeth." or, I am also writing this myself but I love seeing other takes on the same prompt: "You have a _list_ of people you would fuck if caught in a fuck-or-die, and I wasn't supposed to read into the fact I was one of them?" Kon says, "The only one on that form you'd never slept with before?"
"You have a list of people you would fuck if caught in a fuck-or-die, and I wasn't supposed to read into the fact I was one of them?" Kon says. "The only one on that form you'd never slept with before?"
"Do you not have a list?" Tim asks, reflexively concerned by that possibility. Given the ridiculous nature of their lives . . .
". . . goddammit, I know that look," Kon sighs, and Tim takes that as a "no" and immediately pulls out his phone to open his notes app. Kon needs to be prepared for that scenario. How is Kon not prepared for that scenario?
"I recommend sticking with options you feel comfortable being completely incapacitated in the presence of, given the nature of some of these scenarios," he says, typing Kon's Emergency Contact List (Sex Edition) into a new note. "It's usually better if you're sexually compatible with and at least superficially attracted to the person, for obvious reasons, and it's best practices to have a shortlist of hard no's and the like prepared to deliver to prospective partners as needed. Preferably including a tale of contents and glossary, if possible."
"You are such a weird little freak, man," Kon says wryly, sounding just a little bit fond. "How about we talk about it over coffee?"
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solara-bean · 1 year
Text
Death x Halloween Costume Red Riding Hood! Reader
( Reader is an artist/writer with extreme burnout )
( I really tried not to write this oneshot but goddammit he's got me intrigued 😫)
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Halloween in Far Far Away was always a blast. Townsfolk filling the streets in their best tailored costumes, kids running about with candy and on the hunt for more. The weather was always the perfect temperature, too, with just enough chill in the air to wear heavily layered costumes without too much of a sweat. Which is why Y/n had adorned a long, beautiful, bright red hooded cloak over a simple, yet regal outfit. Unfortunately, their perfect look couldn't mask how shitty they felt.
For the past decade or so, they'd been one of the kingdom's most renowned creatives. Their works ranged from colorful illustrations, kids books, paintings, murals, YA novels and a few spicier adult novels that got much popularity to their embarrassment.
Needless to say they were a jack of many trades, and yet they've been able to create nothing for the past year and a half. Everyone had figured that the great artist was just taking a well needed break. Which was true for five months until they tried to make something and nothing happened. No spark. No idea. Nothing happened no matter what they tried or what medium they attempted to mold into something new and exciting.
It eventually lead to a depression that left them barley leaving the house, vowing not to do anything fun until they got an idea. Well until their entire friend group dragged them to this tavern's Halloween party in a costume that one of them conveniently had in their size. Yeah this was definitely a premeditated scheme to get their groove back. And as much as Y/n appreciated that they couldn't find the energy to leave the bar and join everyone else drunkenly dancing and singing on the dance floor.
Y/n sat in a big heap of silken red on the barstool looking down into their glass of Victorian Orphan Tears, a fruity drink made specifically for the holiday. They kept pondering on where their magic had gone. Had they used themselves up? Was this the end of their career? Would they have nothing else to show the world before they died?!
A few of their own tears were about to join the orphan's when they heard a soft whistle amongst the tavern band's melodies. Confused, they blearily glanced at their side to see a large, darkly hooded figure. They would've flinched if they had the energy to. No one had sat next to them all night due to the gloomy aura they'd been emitting. Yet here sat a mysterious stranger, who soon turned upon sensing their gaze, whistling halted. Y/n was met with the face of a white wolf. Wolves weren't uncommon in their society but something about those eyes jarred them. Those rich, blood red eyes. So bright that their costume couldn't dare be called red ever again. Y/n wasn't aware that they'd been locked in long moments of eye contact until the wolf leaned close enough that their noses almost touched. He made a soft but audible sniff.
" Mmm that smell..."
Y/n shivered at hearing the wolf's deep, gravely voice. It was all they could hear as if they weren't in a large room full of party-goers.
"...So sweet..."
"I..uh..what???" Y/n managed to mutter, slowly but surely pulling themselves back to the present reality, but the world aside from the wolf still remained blurry.
" Your drink."
They blinked. " Huh?"
" Your drink." He pointed at their glass. " It smells amazing. What is it?"
" Oh...Oh! My drink. Yeah uh this is Victorian Orphan Tears. It's a Halloween special drink."
" Hm, I'd better get one now before the night's over."
They nodded and looked back into their glass. Surely the wolf would would want to leave their gloomy presence and this was were the interaction would end. But no he stayed after his drink was served, enjoying three long sips.
" Mmm, that is as tasty as it smells. Glad I found an autumn drink without pumpkin spice in it. No offense if you're a pumpkin lover yourself, Little Red."
" Hm? Oh no offense at all. I've got nothing against the flavor but I can see how it can get overwhelming this time of year. There are other spooky flavors out there."
The wolf let out a light chuckle, pearly white fangs twinkling as bright as his fur.
" Yes exactly. I for one would love to see more cherries next halloween."
" Cherries?" Y/n snickered almost into a chuckle of their own, a rare reaction for them these days. " What's scary about cherries?"
The wolf grinned slyly.
" Well, there's nothing seemingly scary about them. So they usually get overlooked as a cute little fruit. But then you squeeze 'em just right into a glaze and they look just like blood. Even so you can't help but want to take a bite. Then you realize how good it is and can't get enough. By then your mouth's already stained red as if you did actually consume blood." he finishes, taking another sip of his drink.
" Wow, I guess cherries are a good fruit for Halloween." they say, taking sips from their drink as well.
" I'm surprised you hadn't considered it. You know with your costume and all. It's the perfect shade of cherry red just like the actual Little Red Riding Hood." he leans in a bit and whispers. " Though I'd steer clear of her tonight, I hear she's trying to copyright her likeness like Fairy Godmother did."
Y/n chokes a nearly spits out half their drink.
" Wait really?!" they panic looking around the room for a similar red hooded figure.
The wolf throws his head back in a guffaw.
" Oh man." he catches his breath. " I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how you'd react.
Y/n catches on and playfully punches his shoulder.
"You jerk, I thought I was in legal trouble for a second." they finally manage a full laugh.
" I know I know, but you seemed so down. Thought a good laugh might help. "
" Yeah. It did actually. Thanks."
They get caught once again into prolonged eye contact, now with something softer between them. The wolf is the first to break.
" Oh forgive me. I've been rude."
" What? No you haven't." they almost said ' you've been lovely ' but stopped themself in time before coming on too strong to a guy who was probably just making friendly small talk. They hadn't been looking their best lately and worried tonight wasn't an exception. Their friends' makeover only barely made their dark circles disappear.
" No but I have. I've been rambling on with you as if you're not here with someone."
Their brows shot up.
" U-uh. I'm not here with anyone. I mean! I am technically with my friends. So yeah in a way yeah." ' smooth real smooth Y/n.'
The wolf raised a brow, intrigued.
" I see. But you're not here with someone as a couples costume kinda thing?"
" No. Who would my partner come dressed as anyway?" they asked genuinely confused. ' What kind of pair would that be? Little Red & Granny? Cute and funny but not romantic partner material.'
The wolf stared intently, amused grin spreading.
" The Big Bad Wolf." he said in a low tone.
Y/n eyes widened with embarrassment. ' Oh God! I'm so stupid of course that would be it!!! ' Apparently self induced seclusion plus whatever magic charisma this guy had was enough to turn their mind to mush within a few minutes. Luckily the Tavern band's leader got everyone's attention on the mic.
" Hey hey how's everyone feeling tonight?!" a loud drunken applause came in response from the crowd. " Great cuz we're nearing the end of the night." a not so pleased ' aww' responded with one ' boo ' that Y/n hoped wasn't one of her friends. " Alright settle down, let's end the evening off with a slow but sensual number."
Soon enough the band filled the room with a tune that got the crowd coupling onto the dance floor. Some more sober than others but all having a good time. Y/n couldn't help the tinge of envy at seeing all of them so happy. But they were pleasantly surprised when they noticed the wolf extending a hand ( paw?? ) to them.
" I know it's a bit on the nose. But would you mind if I played the part of your wolf tonight?" he asked. His hood was off now, revealing cute slightly lowered ears that looked soft to the touch and ruby eyes filled a hint of vulnerability. How could Y/n say no to such an adorable face.
They smiled and took his hand. It was much colder than expected but still a little warm. His obsidian claws gently clutched the back of their hand, careful not to scratch.
" I wouldn't mind at all."
They joined the rest on the dance floor. His other hand pulled them in by their waist just enough to leave some space in-between them as they swayed to and fro. From the outside perspective they made quite the pair. Their cloaks flowed into a wonderful shade of red and black with every spin. Onlookers thought that the two were apart of a couples costume and hadn't just met. Y/n didn't notice any of them, even her friends who caught sight of them after not finding them at their stool. No Y/n didn't notice at all because they got lost in the wolf's red eyes again. Would any paint be vibrant enough to replicate its color?
" You know. You seem really familiar. Have we met before?" he asked, looking down at them while still taking the lead with ease.
" I would've remembered if we met before." those eyes were unforgettable, unless they were contacts, but his voice surely was real and no way in hell they'd forget it. " I've been in the newspaper a few times though." they said sheepishly.
" Wait...are you Y/n L/n?"
They nodded, kind of surprised that he guessed correctly that fast.
" Oh man I knew it! I love your work by the way. It's mesmerizing."
Y/n's pride and joy began to rise.
" Really?"
" Of course. You capture the radiance of life that most people overlook."
" Huh. I've never though of it that way. Thank you."
" No thanks needed. I'm merely speaking the truth. I'm glad that you're taking a break. You've done so much over the years."
Y/n's mood immediately dropped and they looked away, going back to the dark place they had been in not too long ago. The wolf caught on.
" Are you alright, Y/n?" he asked. They could clearly hear his concern. He deserved an honest explanation.
" I'm not taking a break," they admitted. " I'm stuck."
" Isn't that the same thing?"
" No. Breaks are by choice. This is different. I can't get out of this rut no matter how hard I try."
" Then don't try. Just don't make anything and let it come naturally."
" What? I can't do that."
" Why?"
They were starting to get really upset now. Why didn't he get it.
" Because I'd be letting everyone down." they met his gaze. Despite how much he seemed to not understand, his stare was serious and knowing.
" Wouldn't letting yourself down be more important?"
Y/n felt everything stop, realizations and questions coming in at once. It took them a while to notice that the music had stopped, everyone was getting ready to leave, yet the wolf held onto them until their thoughts settled.
" I think your friends are coming to get you." they followed his gaze behind them and sure enough, the gang was approaching. " If you're not busy later tonight. Come meet me by the woods. There's something I want to show you."
He kissed the top of their hand before letting them go and departing swiftly from the tavern like a shadow.
Y/n's group wanted all the details on the mystery wolf but were a bit too tipsy and tired to keep up. Y/n wanted to get everyone home safely, but the responsible parent friend of the group took charge. They heard the wolf's proposition and sent Y/n on their way to finally getting some action. But not before a stern talk about strangers, and safety and giving them a pocket dagger. Honestly Y/n could ask for better friends.
As promised. The wolf was waiting by the woods, cloak flowing in the wind. He smiled when saw them. He offered them a hand and they took it once again.
" I have a confession to make." he said as the two strolled through the forest.
" Yeah?" they couldn't help but stare at how the moonlight perfectly illuminated his fur. It was as if he was made for the night.
" I wasn't smelling your drink..."
Y/n stared at him confused and thought for a minute. It hit them once they saw the mischevious look in his eyes. Heat began to rise to their face. He chuckled at their dumbfounded look.
" The words slipped out before I could stop them so I tried to cover myself. To my luck the drink was sweet too."
" I can't believe you'd sniff a total stranger." they palmed their face with their free hand that had been chilled by the night air.
" Well technically I didn't have to try. My nose is pretty strong. Though I will admit there was some conscious effort. People with scents of life like yours due tend to catch my attention."
" Scents of life?" they asked as the wolf took the lead in front to guide them through a narrow path of trees.
" Yes. It's a bit complex but I'd describe it as a mix of sunflowers, lilies and tulips but," he glanced back at them," yours has an extra hint of vanilla, very soft and sweet."
The heat that had started to fade came back with full force to Y/n's face. They weren't wearing anything that smelled like that. There's no way they'd have a natural scent like it either.
" That's nice but I doubt I smell like that."
The wolf let go of their hand to jump down a sizable dip in the path.
" Trust me you do." he held out his arms to them. Although unsure at first if he could support their weight, they soon jumped down. Once caught, the wolf held them close to his chest, gaze deep and grin wide. " You possess the sweetness of life that I adore dearly."
There was no doubting his truthfulness with the look in his eyes and softness of his voice. Y/n was content enough in the moment that they wished it lasted longer but he put them down and lead the way again.
" Unfortunately it's starting to fade away. Which is why I've brought you here."
Before they could ask they saw the answer in front of them. They were on a small cliff and beyond it was the expanse of the forest with a valley in the center. Y/n was already entranced by the breathtaking view before they noticed light begin to peek over the horizon.
" Ah we're just in time." said the wolf at their side, leaning against a tree arms folded.
The sun slowly rose, chasing away the dark. The valley began to wake with a new life, colors coming forth as flowers bloomed. With the sun came warmth as well, getting rid of the chill that Y/n had gotten use to. They weren't sure how long they stood there, but birds started to sing as the night turned to morning. It was all so beautiful that they wanted to find the words, write the words and maybe even paint them, but as usual nothing came.
" You see Y/n. I think I know what's got you stuck," the wolf began, Y/n had almost forgot he was there. " You began creating things for the enjoyment of yourself. Those creations then became joy for others. But as time went by, you started to only create to make others happy. To fit their expectations. You used up more of yourself than most people do in their lifetimes. Am I making sense for far."
They nodded, still unable speak.
" It's a frustrating dilemma. Frightening even. But take the sun for example," he gestured to the light that was now brighter than before," It's a creator too. It's light gives way for all sorts of life to prosper. Yet at times it can be too much for some to handle. Or perhaps a few clouds get in the way and it's light can't shine through. And in moments like this, it creates little things that most wouldn't know to appreciate. Even so, the sun doesn't care. It travels across the sky shining endlessly."
He walks up to them, places a hand on their face and wipes away tears they hadn't noticed were falling.
" You need to create for yourself. Whether you feel its good enough or not I'm sure people will love it. And if not, you'll have more than enough love for it. Just go easy on yourself and take your time."
" But...what if I'm running out of time?" their voice came out quiet and shaky.
The wolf continued to hold their face. He held a gaze so caring that they wanted to melt into him.
" Don't worry. You're not going anywhere any time soon."
While Y/n almost took that assurance as normal, wanting to remain in the bliss of the moment, something was different about it. In fact everything felt different about him. Wait who the hell was he anyway?!
" Who are you?"
His smile dropped into a frown, as if he wanted to stay in the bliss of the moment as well. But this was reality and they deserved the truth.
" I'm Death."
There was a long moment of silence, both remained still. As if reading their mind he continued.
" Yes seriously. And no I'm not messing with you this time."
Y/n managed to find their composure.
" Wow uh...nice to meet you."
" Hah, you're taking this well."
" Not sure how else I'm supposed to take it. Might freak out later though."
He laughed again. His hands had traveled down to theirs without them knowing. They didn't mind. They found comfort in them despite now knowing why they were so cold for someone with fur.
" That's very kind of you. It's always nice having some be calm around me. Though I'm sure you know that I mean you no harm."
" Yeah," they smiled up at him, " You've helped me a lot actually. I think my spark's returning."
" Good," he let them go, going back a few steps, " Then my work here is done."
" Wait!" they grab his hands. " You're leaving?"
Death's shock of their suddenness then turned to a saddened look.
" Yes. I've already interfered more than I should. It would be best if I go now. I'm sorry. I was really having a lot of fun with you."
" Then stay a little longer." they pulled him in closer. " Please?"
" I..." he hesitated, pondering over something he knew he shouldn't. " I'll always be around so I could come visit when I can."
Y/n beamed with joy.
" That would be great. I look forward to it." though they couldn't help but push further. " But are you sure you can't stay a little longer right now?"
Death thought on it. He knew he should say no. He'd already been taking too long of a break. But their eyes were pleading to him and their hands were so warm. The souls of the dead weren't going anywhere he supposed, but it'd be a lot of overtime.
" I guess, but on one condition."
" Anything."
He regained his signature sly grin and leaned in closer.
" I want to be the first one to see what you create next."
They gave him a warm smile in return.
" I'd love to. I think I'm writing mood right now."
" Oh?," Death's ears perked up and his tail wagged a bit. " I hope it's another novel then."
" Huh, I didn't peg you for the YA type."
" Yes I like those too but I was thinking of your other ones."
" What other o-" then it hit them. " No..."
Death grinned, fangs and all.
" Yes."
" No. Oh no! You read those?!" they put their flaming face in their palms, silently cursing their friends for convincing them to publish those spicy books. " Oh god I could die right now."
Death laughed and pulled them into his chest, giving comforting pats on the back.
" Sorry that won't be happening anytime soon. And I'm having too much fun with you anyway."
That morning Y/n went from someone who feared Death to someone who welcomed him. They learned surprising things about him as well. Like how his fur was so soft, he liked to be scratched behind the ears and he tasted oddly of cherries.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
Note
for clone Danny, Clone Damian
I give you
Edit Clone Talia as somehow Girlfriend of Danny, just think of the comedy
nah brO BECAUSE LITERALLY I HAVE THOUGHT BOUT THAT. Literally since the conception of Clone Danny, I have thought about it. If only for, as you said, the COMEDY of it all. Plus I love writing romance.
Literally my motto for my aus is: A) is it plausible, B) is it FUNNY (and a secret third option C) is it ANGSTY)
Clone Talia would be an offshoot au of Clone^2 because idk how she'd fit into the original timeline, bUT, she'd exist. And to avoid confusion I'll call her Nasra - I thought about Tameka (which means twin) but I like Nasra better. "Talia and Nasra" just flows so nicely doesn't it?
Idk WHY there's a clone of Talia running around -- maybe the LoA made her, maybe n unknown organization who hates Batman and knows he has romantic ties to Talia, and started making a clone of her to fuck with him and then she got nabbed by a portal when she was still Danny's age and in the middle of training. She might be like Connor (??) and have memories and thus her training is more proficient than baby Dames.
Either way, regardless of how she was made, I think it's hilarious if she, much like baby Dames, immediately attacks Danny on sight. She falls into his city and Danny only has a moment to go "goddammit not agaIN" before he's fending off a very confused, very violent Nasra. Fortunately he's able to actually try and talk to her and be at least somewhat successful -- Nasra knows english. although even if she didn't, Danny would still be somewhat successful since he knows Arabic.
Also Bruce and Danny are the battinson bat because i think that is also hilarious and 'wet rat' is STILL the perfect energy for Danny as Phantom - especially in the early days when he's running around in all but jeans and a hoodie. (and god watch me go on a rant in a separate post about his outfit and reasonings for being Phantom when he has no powers later on because it makes me go FERAL. and his active choice to look as inhuman and ghost-like through his behavior as phantom and the decision to wear such a creepy mask as possible)
(like seriously, imagine walking home late at night while danny was still in his early vigilante days (and even now when he's got damian and a better suit) and seeing a skinny figure in the shadows with sunken in black-and-glowing-green eyes, and a bone white, skull-like face, crouched on all fours like a wild animal about to pounce. THAT is the level of creepiness I was going for for clone danny)
In my head, Sam offers to house Nasra and Nasra stays with her. SAm is able to convince her parents to let her stay, or she pulls a Danny and just straight up smuggles her in and her parents are none the wiser. I also think it's funny if they have unspoken BEEF with each other. Only to later become like sisters. Nasra teaches Sam the martial arts she knows, and also Danny joins in too with Damian because goddamn he needs it even IF he's learning stuff from his mom (as per the most recent snippet post I made).
OH AND DAMIAN AND NASRA. I think it's equally as funny if they ALSO have beef with each other. Nasra is a clone of his mother (of whom he might have complicated views on due to being a clone but still is his mother) and Damian is a clone of Nasra's "son". This beef largely starts from Damian's own refusal to want to share his Danny with another clone, especially with a clone of his MOTHER.
Danny and Nasra don't become lovers for a good, long while I think. They're besties first before they even consider the idea of dating -- not only just because of the whole "uhhh our counterparts dated so it'd feel kinda weird and forced if we dated" and also because Nasra, with her newfound freedom, is busy trying to figure out herself.
A big theme here in clone^2: discovering your identity and who you are as a person when the only thing you own that's unique is your name (which isn't even the case for Damian), and figuring out if your choices are your own or because you're a clone and its something your original would have done. Nature vs Nurture and the illusion of choice and whether it really is one or not.
Also Nasra also becomes a vigilante. Danny appreciates the help but is also tearing out his hair because what the fuck is up with these assassins and becoming vigilantes?! Nasra goes by "Nesha". She's similar to Red Huntress at first where she kinda does her own thing, but is lowkey forced to team up with Danny about it because she doesn't have any proper ghost hunting equipment with her.
And then a duo becomes a trio, and Danny is spending more time with her. And they steadily become friends. Very snarky friends who are very bratty to each other, but friends. Damian still doesn't like her so Danny spends extra time during patrol keeping the two of them from making insults at each other.
"Nesha please stop fighting with a nine year old. Wraith, quit insulting Nesha."
Nasra also uses like, weaponry as Nesha which exasperates Danny a little because why are you using swords??? They're already dead its not gonna kill them,,,, If you cut off their heads its just gonna piss em off, its re-attachable. Let him ghost-proof it first too. But well, its still gonna HURT he supposes. He's still a little exasperated.
And MMM i'm sorry lmao im so focused on Nasra becoming her own person than the actual romance aspect of it all. Nasra cuts her hair short for the same/similar reasons that Danny keeps his long - to try and gain a semblance of autonomy and identity that's away from their original. Danny has his alternative rock-kinda geeky look and Nasra's got, from influence from Sam, a more alternative fashion style. Although she still leans into being feminine, which is a good challenge to Sam's belief that feminity = bad, and gets her to unlearn those bad habits since her new adoptive sister is feminine while still being an unapologetic badass.
And ykw I think Nasra gets into rollerblading and loves it. She rollerblades constantly. Damian is furious because skating is his thing (even if what he gets later on is a skateboard - skater boy damian ftw. i can see him wearing flannels and graphic tees as a teenager. very grungy/skater aesthetic. He also has a much more relaxed and teen-y speech pattern compared to DW's more formal way of talking. He also spray paints as his form of artistic medium.) and he refuses to have Nasra be a copy of him.
They will sort out their differences eventually. LMao.
Anyways they eventually do get together, but not before Danny finally has his run in with Mister Wayne. Which, they only meet because Danny starts destabilizing, and thus needs Bruce Wayne's DNA to help stabilize himself. Which that meeting in and of itself is pretty chaotic on its own, but then add clone Damian and Nasra? Bruce needs coffee.. or alcohol.
Because picture this: its late at night, you're on patrol with the rest of your family. It's like, two in the morning. You suddenly get a call in from your butler, Alfred, informing you that not one, not two, but THREE children -- two of them in their late teens and the other one not even ten yet -- showed up on your doorstep. One of them is unconscious. They are all clones.
The girl and the boy are twins - and are clones of YOU - and the girl isn't even technically YOUR clone she's a clone of your clone - and also this clone of you is your college friends' kid. And then the youngest boy is a clone of your youngest SON. Bruce is running across rooftops when he gets this call and does a literal 180 degree turn and touches the ground because he basically did a figure skating turn, and sprints back towards the manor because what the fuck? He needs to check this out.
And then half a day later a clone of your fucking ex shows up on your doorstep demanding to see the clone of you - the boy that is, not the girl - and then immediately gets into a verbal lashing with the clone of your son. Like what a fucking DAY. Your kids are equally as baffled but also laughing their asses off -- except your bio son, who is very unhappy about this turn of events and keeps getting the stink eye from his clone.
Like??? I'd quit right then and there.
While Danny recovers he's staying in Wayne manor and Damian is very reportedly not leaving his side. Ellie has to leave to help take care of Amity Park with RH, and then Nasra is also very determinedly not leaving his side either. This is her friend dammit. The first thing she does when he becomes lucid is insult him, and he insults her back - they're bantering. It's how they flirt later on. None of the Bats know how to deal with this situation.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dpdc crossover#dpdc au#dp dc#dp dc crossover#clone^2#danny fenton is a clone#danny fenton is not the ghost king#sorry this got so long and i barely even got into them falling in love with one another#satoshy you should totally reblog this so we can talk about this more i'd love to bounce ideas with you or anyone else about it 👀#this is so funny to me personally because like. im imagining nasra doesnt show up unti danny's like at least 18-19#which is a wild set of 3 years for danny because he finds out he's a clone when he's 15#acquires Damian at 16 and then meets nasra at 18#like he got one grace period where it was just him and his new little brother and then BAm another clone#damian showed up by accident but i promise you nasra was specifically clockwork's doing because its hilarious to me personally#CW loves danny but also he's a little shit. i was originally gonna call Nasra's vigilante name 'revenant' but thought it was too basic#also danny not meeting bruce until he's almost 20 is very funny to me. especially since baby dames was with the league for 6 years#beforehand#like what do you mean my clone has been living unnoticed for 18 years. he's had damian for HOW LONG? THREE YEARS?#morally gray danny has my heart ever since my post where he murdered three guys for nearly killing his brother.#nasra attacks danny and yay! he doesn't hurt his hands this time around! he's grown since he met damian. that was also a large part why dee#didn't like nasra right off the bat. she could've hurt him and made his hands even worse.
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nathaslosthershit · 10 months
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Pickles and Pregnancy||Quinn Hughes x Reader
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, I am not pregnant nor have I ever been so this is going to be insanely inaccurate! 
Request: Can I get a pregnancy fic with one of the boys you write for? Maybe the reader wakes up in the middle of the night with cravings and her and her husband have a cute moment in the kitchen? Love you lots!
A/n: Thank you to everyone who voted on who should be the reader's husband in this fic! Couldn’t have done it without you
Word Count: 600+
“Quinn, Quinn. Wake up please goddammit!” Is what Quinn heard as he was shaken awake by his very much so pregnant and distressed wife. 
The fear on Quinn's face as he sat up would have made her feel bad if she hadn’t been in such misery.
“What? What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Is it you? How can I help?” He said in one breath.
You began to cry. These stupid fucking hormones were absolutley ruining your life.
“I’m sorry I’m just really hungry and the thought of having to wait till morning to eat just-” You cut yourself off when sobs overtook your body. It really wasn’t a big deal but at the same time it absolutely was. 
Relief that there wasn’t something seriously wrong with you or the baby overcame the slight feeling of anger Quinn had felt from being woken up at… 3:26 am. 
“What can I do? Do I need to go out and get something? Most places will be closed at this time, love.” He said cautiously, you were already crying and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse.
“I just… I just want pickles. So badly. Please, Quinn, I will do anything for you to go get some.” You beg, sniffling as you try to calm yourself. It broke Quinn’s heart to see you like this, especially when he couldn’t do anything. Luckily though, he was prepared for this exact scenario. 
“Hun, I got some after practice, they are in the fridge.” Seeing the look of happiness and relief wash over your face made Quinn laugh. Your ability to change moods that fast after hearing you were going to be able to eat pickles at 3 am was astounding to him. 
“Come keep me company?” 
“Always, love.”
You feel Quinn’s hand on your back as you waddle to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to find those fucking pickles almost made you jump with joy, and maybe you would have if you had been able to jump in the current state you were in and had been in for many months. 
“I’ve never had a better pickle holy shit.” You moan.
“Okay first cut the swearing with our child present. Also, can you cool it with your pickle horniness please?” Quinn asks as he reaches for the jar.
“Absolutely the fuck not. These are mine. Grow your own child and I’ll share but I didn’t invite you here to give you some.”
“Then why am I here, love?”
“Because if the child I am currently making inside of me decides I must eat pickles or I will die, then the man who put the kid in me will also have to be awake at 3 am in solidarity.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll stay in solidarity” at that, he leans in to kiss you. As one kiss becomes two, and two become a very heated start to a makeout session, you pull away, putting your hands on his chest as he leans in for more.
“Absolutely not. I'm here to eat, not recreate our baby’s conception.”
“You are disgusting, you know that?”
“I love you too.” You say as you close the jar. Before you open the fridge he stops you.
“I love you more than anything. And I will gladly spend the rest of my 3 am’s awake, watching you eat pickles if that is what you want.” He leans down to kiss your head before you both walk back to your room.
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oneshlut · 6 months
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Overjoyed (Dr. Flug x Reader) [Headcanons]
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Summary: General Dr. Flug crushing and confessing headcanons
VERY rarely experiences love. This is very new to him, so he will NOT recognize it the first few months he has a crush
Will think of you as a really close friend! At least, he thinks so. He may get a bit more insecure because he thinks you're a better person than him
If you treat him like a normal person and like.. don't bully him??-- He will get attached. I don't think he's recieved affection in a hot minute
You, overall as a person, fascinate him. How can someone be so kind, smart, witty, good-looking (in a totally platonic way), AND care for him? Part of him thinks you're not real. Don't worry, he just hasn't experienced love that often to know what admiration is
He doesn't understand why he gets so nervous around you. He's not scared of you at all, not like he is around Blackhat--you were, in fact, the opposite of him. So why was he getting all fidgety and jumpy around you? It didn't make sense how he could feel so comfortable around a person, yet still feel so anxious all the while
Over time, he becomes a bit protective over you without really knowing it. He'll push you out of his lab when he's doing a dangerous experiment, or will give you the easiest job on missions (besides 5.0.5.'s). He tries to refrain himself from acting this way sometimes, he doesn't want you to feel like you're incompetent in any way--all his intention was to keep you safe! And now he's spiraling because he doesn't know why he feels so protective over you
Sometimes you'll compliment him, and he feels as if Blackhat himself just told him he did a great job on a mission. Except, this time his heart was beating faster, his palms were more sweaty than usual, it felt stuffy inside his mask, and-- ..Goddammit, why is he getting so nervous again?? He then realizes he hasn't responded to you yet, and mutters a small 'thank you' that made him sound a lot less confident he wished he could've sounded
Eventually, he got sick of it. He needed to find out what the hell was going on. So imagine his mini panic attack when he googles 'why is my heart beating so fast', and Google tells him his heart is failing
It's not like he doesn't know what love is, no, far from it. He's seen his average romcoms (and hated them), he knows what love should be like. Hell, he knows the entire chemical formula for the damn feeling. He was just never able to understand what others felt when they said they were 'in love'. Until now.
For him, it was unbelievably weird to have his heart race for someone that wasn't out of fear. Honestly, he.. liked the feeling. If it weren't for how he reacted to it.
Dr. Flug wasn't this nervous around you before. Normally, not at all. When you hung out at his lab, he would ramble on and on about his inventions, only checking in every few minutes to make sure you weren't getting bored of him or anything. But now, knowing his feelings for you, he feels horribly nervous around you. This affects every little thing he does, and he hates it.
When you hang out with Flug now, he realizes how truly lucky he is for you to even do more than just glance over him. Him? Why him? Why not spend your time with anyone else..?
Then he realizes you actually care about him. His existence. He isn't.. invisible to you. And suddenly he's over the moon.
Right--about the way Flug acts around you. Every conversation you have with him suddenly has this weird air around it. You could tell he was more nervous than.. well, usual, but whenever you asked he just waved it off as some upcoming mission or invention he still had to work on. You'd normally decide not to dwell on it too much.
On his end, he thought he was doing everything horribly wrong in front of you. "Catch you on the flip side"??? When has he ever said something like that?! Not to mention his stammering practically increased by 5 times its normal amount, as he was fumbling over most words in every single sentence he dared mutter around you. If he wasn't talking, he was tripping over his untied shoelaces (he almost always had them tied, god, what happened to his schedule-?) or spilling some important chemical all over his workspace.
Overall, he was more fidgety than normal, and he hated it. It made him want to tear his bag out. Why couldn't he just be normal around you? Now he's just worse than he ever was. All his attempts of impressing you were down the drain at this point. But at least he hasn't completely drawn you away--I mean, you still liked hanging out with him! At least, he thinks you like spending time with him.. Part of him is still just the slightest bit insecure.
His worry for you has increased when you go on missions with him now. Part of him wants to just keep you in the hat ship so you don't get involved in something messy, but he knows that would be unfair for you. Flug just worries about you getting hurt, is all. He tries to focus on you a bit more during missions to make sure you're doing alright, but sometimes this just causes him to fuck up even more in front of you. Way to go, Flug. He suddenly feels as if his engineering and villainy PhDs didn't really do that much for him in the long run.
As we all know, Dr. Flug is far from someone to act on feelings. He acts on his logic, most of the time at least. With this in mind, he is the last person you'd think of as someone who would confess their feelings to someone. In all honesty, even if he did muster up the courage to try, he would pass out on the spot. So, he just tries to wait it out until this crush subsides. Spoiler alert: it doesn't!
Right, right--so, since he probably won't ever come clean about his feelings to you, you'll probably eventually just have to confess yourself. Unless Flug slips up one day and accidentally says he loves you in one of his long-winded rambles, in which would make a very awkward situation.
Under the circumstances that you do confess to him first, he.. well, Flug won't believe you at first. You've probably just gotten yourself mixed in with one of Demencia's pranks. A bit cruel, but nothing he couldn't handle. He will have to talk to Demencia later though, she's been getting on his nerves lately.. And besides, the whole spiel of you actually liking him, caring for him, and wanting to be with him? Yeah, okay.
So he laughs. And then he realizes you're serious. Oh. You're serious.. Oh.
Ohhhhhh crap. Okay! So you like him. It was.. It didn't feel real. But it was. And now that same feeling came back to him, the one where he feels his hands getting sweatier, his bag getting stuffier, and.. a new symptom. His legs turned flimsy, and could now just barely hold his body. He leaned onto his desk for support. If only he could see how red his bag was at the time.
And yes, you were able to calm him down, but even as the day progressed, Flug still couldn't swallow the situation. He laid in his bed unmoving, still, and.. awake. He couldn't get his mind off of anything that had happened that afternoon. He's probably pinched himself at least 6 times now, making sure he wasn't just dreaming or anything. After the 7th pinch.. yep, he wasn't.
Eventually, this surprise faded away into another new emotion.
Overjoyed.
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