Tumgik
#my dms are always open
slimegirl-selkie · 1 month
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2019 -> 2023
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manincaffeine · 6 months
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Sending & receiving sky and moon pics is a love language.
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thejokeson-you · 9 months
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I wish I had more t4t friends that will just in the middle of a chill text convo tell me how horny they are and what theyd do to me or what they want me to do to them.
👀
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anxietywasright · 1 year
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Everytime I speak, Im always reminded of why I should've kept quiet in the first place
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theghostkingisdead · 9 days
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dpxdc - Neglected Child AU
As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.
There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.
Knock, knock, knock.
Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”
Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.
“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”
“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.
Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.
Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.
The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.
“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”
Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”
The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.
“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”
Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”
There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.
Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”
Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.
Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”
Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.
“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”
Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”
“Tell me.”
“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”
Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”
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ocean1221 · 1 month
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Hero x villain
The hero agency gets a tip about hero and villain's friendship and stop trusting hero with anything, hero is happy because they sit around and do nothing but still get paid, villain is upset because now they can't spend as much time with the hero
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ccrustacian · 1 year
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dear mutual,
if you’re reading this, what does your butt look like? 👀
Asking for a friend :)
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thelankypineapple · 1 year
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hat or no hat? 🤔 let me know…
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deaddykedog · 13 days
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i'm so high,,, if only there was a pretty lady here to take advantage of that,,,
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loubella77 · 8 months
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Aren’t I so pretty?
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slimegirl-selkie · 1 month
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edit for correct greater than signs
venmo @selkieslime ca$happ $SelkieSlime
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hikariiultra · 1 month
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Just the thought of gazing up at a femme blissfully riding my strap is enough to make my brain short circuit
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kazanskys-mitchell · 4 months
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hey guys come get some mav angst with a side of slimav!
been feeling kinda out of place and weird the last couple of days and this was a result of that. i proofread it twice so hopefully there’s no mistakes.
i hope you like it :)
isolation
Maverick was never a people person. He liked to be alone, tinkering with some sort of machinery to pass the time. He didn’t make friends easily, people seemed to hear his callsign and look the other way. But he didn’t care.
Or maybe, he cared a little bit.
Growing up, he liked his time alone, but when other people who pretended to befriend him made plans that excluded him, he distanced himself. He didn’t want to be a nuisance, after all. That’s what he saw himself as.
A nuisance. Someone that nobody wanted to be around.
Until he met Goose.
Nick Bradshaw was a character, he was very different from Maverick in a lot of ways, but they also were all too similar. Their personalities worked so well together, and Goose declared himself Maverick’s best friend.
Goose always made sure that Maverick was included in anything they did, whether it be getting drinks with other aviators or hanging out with Carole and Bradley. Goose always made sure that Maverick felt included and welcome, and if he didn’t, they would leave to do their own thing.
The night out at the O Club with Goose was fun, even if Iceman and Slider were being jerks about the MiG and “who’s the best pilot?”
Abused children was what Goose had called them.
Maverick just had to laugh it off.
Top Gun was a little isolating for Maverick. He knew how everyone there felt about him, but he put on a brave face and kept flying like he knew how to do. He knew he was good at it, and it took his mind off everything.
Until Goose died.
The events of that day replayed in Maverick’s head so many times, he lost count. Nothing had ever felt more isolating than losing the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t a burden. Now that Goose wasn’t there to include him, he knew he’d end up alone again.
He thought he wanted that.
After the Layton rescue, he gained a friendship with Iceman and even Slider. He felt less alone when they were around.
They didn’t quite pick up on the fact that Maverick would silently excuse himself if he felt like he wasn’t wanted. It happened many times, the Top Gun class reuniting and getting drinks, and Maverick leaving early because he felt like he annoyed everyone just by being there.
Slider eventually noticed.
He would run after Maverick, asking why he was leaving, to which Maverick would respond “Oh, I’m just tired.”
Slider knew it was a lie.
So he started doing what Goose did. He made sure that Maverick felt included in everything, and it worked. Maverick liked that Slider seemed to care for him.
A year after Goose died, Maverick realized he had feelings for Slider.
He didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t know who he could tell, and he was sure that Slider wouldn’t feel the same.
He felt more comfortable about it after Wolfman had one too many drinks and confessed to Maverick that he and Hollywood had been together for a while. Wolfman didn’t seem to remember that he had told Maverick, but Maverick remembered it for a long time.
Eventually, Maverick figured his shit out and confessed to Slider.
He was sure he’d be rejected, like he had been many times in the past, but Slider surprised him by asking Maverick on a date.
The rest was history.
Slider eventually took Maverick to his hometown to meet his family. They seemed pretty accepting of Maverick, but he still felt isolated from them. They didn’t include him in conversations, and hardly acknowledged him when he tried to join the conversation.
It took Slider a while to notice it was happening. Maverick figured that he was trying to spending time with his family, and that little ol’ Maverick was just a burden that he dragged along.
Slider found Maverick on the front porch, staring out into the road at nothing in particular.
“Mav?”
“Hey. Sorry, I figured you wanted more time alone with your family.”
“I brought you here to spend time with you.”
“I feel like I’m intruding.”
Slider had heard enough. He spent an hour on the porch with Maverick, the smaller man tangled in his arms, and told Maverick just how much he was loved.
They went inside eventually, after Slider’s mom had questioned where they went. Slider made sure from that point on that Maverick was included in their conversations, all while keeping a strong arm wrapped around his waist and pressing small kisses to the top of Maverick’s head whenever he had the opportunity.
To Slider, Maverick was everything he ever wanted and more, and Maverick no longer felt alone.
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anxietywasright · 3 months
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Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved by you
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gracefullofazz · 7 months
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luvnlinaa · 2 months
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i love messaging you guys 🥹
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