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#purple hair lane
jeanetteirismiller · 8 months
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“She might be my favorite Rainbow High doll ever.”
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justiceb68 · 2 years
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お久しぶり
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siashicat · 1 year
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!▪°~nya nya~°▪! .{artist}.
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libraryofgage · 7 months
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how long have you been in fandom spaces?? and do you have any funny/weird stories about being in fandom?
Hi, anon!
So, I've been in fandom for a while. I first started reading fanfiction in junior high and began posting what I wrote in high school. My first fandom space was Hetalia (yes, it's cringe; yes, it's ironic considering I'm Jewish; no, I don't shy away from this part of my fandom past lmao) on ff.net
I wrote a few (like, ten or so?) x-reader fics that got flagged by the roving gangs of morality/ff.net guidelines police that haunted the site back in the day lmao
I've recently finished a master's program, so after doing math that took me way too long, I can say it's been about a decade for me in fandom spaces
Regarding funny/weird stories:
My go-to get-to-know-me story for any fandom server is the time I learned how to get into the Houston NASA base undetected via backroads (and just straight up driving through grass at one point) because a scientist there wanted a TV fixed by the company I worked for in high school (I was too young to work there, some child labor laws were def being broken but it was 10/hr so, like, fuck it we ball)
In my first year participating in the Tododeku Big Bang, I derailed the server for, like, over an hour if I remember correctly with a single question: does syrup go in the fridge or pantry after opening? This became, like, a full-blown debate; friendships were ruined, betrayals were discovered, and like half the people there gave the wrong answer. (it goes in the fridge, btw, and you can't change my mind :P )
In high school, I once got so desperate for fics that I turned to fucking Quotev and DeviantArt. If you know, you know, and if you don't, I wish I were you hfjdks I deserve a fucking purple heart
I took a class in undergrad where the big final was just to show that you'd been working on something creative the entire semester. Some people showed original comics they drew, others showed off websites for their poetry, one girl showed off a website for a DC Batman AU that she wanted to pitch to DC (I have her AO3 and her posting consistency is so admirable omfg). @amy-airheart took that class with me and can confirm: I wrote 50k in one week, wrote even more, and then presented my AO3 stats page as my proof of doing creative things during the semester. I think the total was like 80k or something. The professor asked what drugs I'd taken and where he could get some
That's everything I can think of for now. I'm sure there's something buried deep in my subconscious that I'll remember later, but I hope you found at least one of those amusing hjfkds
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deaflamer · 1 year
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My vintage coat from the 70's,i feel like Penny Lane from Almost Famous 💜
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A DC X DP IDEA #27
They’re the strongest?!?!
Imagine dis…
You know … I read too much humans are space orcs fic, prompts, ideas… etc.
But I still like Danny Phantom and DC…
And I remember that one A03 fic…
Another alien invasion is another Wednesday for the JL but it seems like they are quite different. Not only they are known as invaders in the Green Lantern Corps but they also have some sort of code among warriors, they give a chance to the species they are invading to fight back. By having their strongest fight against their strongest. It is not through fighting to the death as different planets have different climates and terrains and thus have their version of the Olympic games but instead of rewarding the participants medals, they were rewarded their planet's safety, but Hal commented that the challenges are too staged, too well known to the invading aliens. Since the ones defending have no idea how to approach the challenges, they always end up losing. Green Arrow commented that since they can just send out the Big Blue boy scout, Hal shook his head as they have to be the same species one planet already tried it by asking aid from another planet and not only lost but the invading aliens got 2 planets, plus they’ll bring it up to the galaxy court system and put them in a tight spot. Of course, Aquaman blinked with confusion and asked if there was a court system for the galaxy.
So of course, when the said invading aliens landed on the Milky Way and broadcasted their intentions. The JL already have a team to fight them, of course, we have Batman with his cunning mind, Wonder Woman for her chivalry and strength, Flash for his speed, Doctor Fate for his mastery of magic, and Cyborg for technological skills. Just as they were about to tell the invading aliens that they had already picked their strongest, another announcement popped out. Apparently to even out the playing field they have a new technology to help them pick out their strongest for them. As if they were talking to kids and promptly pressed the bottom to automatically select the earth’s strongest.
The heroes at the space station as well those around the world who were debriefed about the situation a week before are already bracing themselves to be picked, while the citizens around the globe are all now watching and anticipating as not only this a new thing as the majority of their alien invasion they immediately went to evacuation.
Who appeared/ chosen immediately made both sides' jaws drop….
Three?
Only three are chosen…
An adult, a teen, and a child?
A man who wore a blue rental suit with glasses, blue eyes and black hair. Which the Metropolis recognizes as one of their own. Clark Kent, a reporter with fame and reputation on par with the famed Lois Lane. The ideal model of someone who came from the countryside and made a name and life in the big city.
An 11-year-old boy with blue eyes and black hair who wore a red hoodie, faded jeans, and red shoes, in which the city Fawcett knew of. Billy Batson was, a former foster kid on the run until he found his forever home with the couple named Victor and Rosa Vasquez who also fostered a couple of kids, which Billy claims as his siblings. A kind kid who kept doing good around him and his community.
Lastly, a teen, again with blue eyes and black hair wore a faded NASA hoodie, and blue jeans with faint eye bags which was a small town in Amity Park where he came from. Danny Fenton, the only son of the two leading scientists of ecto-biologists in ecotology, the one who realized that one of the two purple-back gorillas is a female thus avoiding extinction.
Clark Kent by day and Superman by night knew about the invading aliens. He also knew that he could not participate despite being raised on Earth made him unqualified to join. So, imagine his shock when he suddenly found himself with two earth children in the middle of a large arena with futuristic cameras looking at them. He is now in an internal dilemma; how can he save the two kids, while he tries to save Earth altogether?
This train of thought also passed by the young Billy Batson on the said teen, Billy already knew that Superman was already thinking of saving the both of them. Now his priority is to survive and keep his secret ID a secret for a bit longer.
Danny on the other hand has a completely different train of thought, he was just about to reach his room. His beautiful room where his bed is, he had just finished a four-hour exam to bring his grades back up to an acceptable level, 9 continuous ghost attacks, another nonsense quarrel between the observers and he is close to committing anarchy just so he can have the same treatment to Pariah Dark, an eternal sleep in a comfortable looking Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.
So imagine his surprise when he is suddenly teleported to what looks like an alien ship, Danny would usually be ecstatic but they have interrupted him, he is so close to his bed. He knew that there would be some sort of an invasion as he remembered the bits and pieces from Tucker’s ramble when they last hung out together.
He doesn’t care if aliens invade Earth, but if you come between him and his bed. He will make sure of what he will do to those who disturb him, he will make his fight with his future self and Pariah Dark like child’s play.
The Justice League kept on insisting that they had already chosen their fighters and those who appeared in the middle of their arena were civilians, not warriors. But the invading aliens stayed on their decision and immediately began the games.
The rest of the heroes are now scrambling to not only stop the invading aliens but also save the 2 civilians who were randomly selected.
While the rest of the League is now panicking the rest of the world is now in an outrage. Sending out a civilian man and children by the alien's weird machinery.
The Fenton couples are especially rabid as, if there is anything that tops their ghost obsession, it would be their children’s safety. The family of Batson are on the edge of their seats as they worry for Billy.
The games begin with an opening of rules and such, as well as an introduction to the alien’s warriors who are big and full of muscles making the Earth team look so tiny.
The first game starts with a simple hunting game with very minimal clues and tools at their disposal to find what they seek. Clark can crack the code on to where to hunt but it is a dangerous environment, Clark discusses it with his teammates on how to catch it, Clark is already thinking if he should reveal himself as a meta with strength but Danny just glares at the man and grabbed capturing tools form the table and sought out the thing they are designated to hunt.
The other team took a glance at Team Earth and warbled some snickers at how they took looking/hunting too fast without any plans and went back to their planning.
Clark and Billy are worried for their other teammate but after a few minutes, they hear a roar some shuffles, and then silence.
Back on earth, most people are horrified a what could be the teen’s fate but when footsteps were heard they saw the teen again scathed, with a few scratches, and a hulking beast all tied up from its muzzle to its tails.
Clark nervously asked, still maintaining his civilian identity, how on earth Danny had caught such a beast. Danny’s only response was, back from where he came a certain ”friend” really wanted “someone’s” pelt on a wall and learned some things while HE was chasing that “something”.
That starts the Danny effect…
A tag sort of game as there is a hunter to hunt them down and their objective is to hide longer than the other team, with both Billy and Danny a part, while Billy lasted a few hours with his wit and skills that he honed during his time when he ran from CPS and the police during his days as a foster child, which is impressive itself as he got two of the other team’s members to be captured first before him. Danny outlasted Billy and the rest of the other team won the game in a landslide and gained some bonus points by not only redirecting the hunter and leading them into a false trail or a dead end but also messing with the said hunter without being spotted by him.
Cooking with live and weird ingredients? Clark initially volunteered to do it as he has a stomach of steel being an alien but cannot cook as he has no idea which ingredient is edible as all alien dishes and ingredients come from Krypton and he has to impress the judges who put them in a disadvantage as the judges are from the same race as the opposing team. Danny just shook his head at Clark quickly put on an apron and set to work.
Clark and Billy immediately turned green at the sight as Danny nonchalantly battled the live ingredients, from the meat section to what seems to be the fruit and vegetable section, It is bloody as it is and quite fascinating as it is disgusting. All their years in the Justice League they have seen some twisted and weird things but seeing their third teammate casually stab what looked like an unholy cross hybrid between an octopus and a shark trying to crawl away from the carnage, cleaned the weird animal from the inside out and fillet it.
Of course, they are in disbelief when the judges practically moan the moment, they taste Danny’s dish. Clark and Billy are pretty sure one of the judges is planning to spare Danny and turn him into their chef if the invasion continues, with the way they look at Danny. The judges reluctantly let Danny’s dish win.
Billy reluctantly asked Danny where he learned to cook like that, Danny’s only response was a grumble of a sound that seemed to sound like at home but that cannot be, right?
Trying to survive an onslaught of hypnotic plants native to the alien’s home world, Danny once again won and even began criticizing the plants for how their music was so horrible that it would not even wake the dead.
Play some sort of FIGHTING VIDEO GAME that is popular in 5 sectors in their part of the galaxy, Danny wins and repeatedly shoots the aliens with pure hatred and anger in his eyes, Clark has to physically drag Danny out of the arena to stop his onslaught of firing to the poor guy who was already on the verge of crying.
And so on with the Earth’s team leading COUGH Danny COUGH and demolishing the invading aliens from their games.
After a while the games are done and Team Earth wins with a massive gap to the invading aliens. They returned the three in the middle of the Metropolis and went away without so much a fuss…
Well, expect that one chef in their midst how begged the leader to take Danny and only him with them but the leader is already fearing for his life as the last few games that humans began to be more feral by the second and he was sure he is also a second away from being the one at the other end of his chopping board.
Back on earth everyone cheered on the three and began flashing them their camera lights to get a new scoop, and one brave reporter even tried to interview Danny but when people tried to look for the elusive teen he seemingly disappeared.
Clark knew Danny was, sleeping peacefully in the middle of the bushes a few feet away from them, and kept quiet as he was late to realize that Danny was on the verge of a crash like Red Robin is when he pulled something like this when Conner invited him.
PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.
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sytoran · 10 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋'𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟒
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The inevitable occurs and Natasha ends things with you. Now, separated by galaxies and worlds, there’s no chance of ever being connected again, not by a long shot. Until now.
pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!human!reader
note: reader has a penis. this is the fourth chapter of the goddess!nat universe!! i am sorry this took so long, but i was taking my time to not stress myself out too much. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
word count: 2.7k
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Previously…
The inevitable occurs and Natasha ends things with you. Now, separated by galaxies and worlds, there’s no chance of ever being connected again, not by a long shot. Until now.
Now, one month later…
Music thrums in your bloodstream, your head spinning. The flashing fluorescent lights blind your vision at sporadic intervals and you feel like you’re floating above the ground.
“Another,” you rasp to the dark-haired bartender, slamming down an empty shot glass. “Keep ‘em comin’.” Your eyes dart around the close-bodied pack in the middle of the bar, drunken whoops and cheers sounding as girls press against each other.
The whiskey burns in your throat as the DJ picks up the beat. Inside the hazy mess of purple-shrouded figures in the crowd, only one catches your eye. She’s into the music, trailing her hands over her body and swinging her hips in time to the music. The people around her can’t touch her bubble.
Before your clouded brain registers a fraction of your stupid actions, you down the next shot and walk up to her. 
You’re not completely stupid, though. You’ve made an effort to dress nice, a cream-coloured collared shirt. Natasha said you looked amazing in those. You’ve put on your new rings. The ones that you bought with Natasha’s money. You’ve been hitting the gym, lifting weights and working your muscles. To take your mind off Natasha fucking Romanoff.
It doesn’t work, though. It never works.
“Hey,” you say to the dancing woman. Her eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering, like Natasha when she slept in your embrace. “What’s up?” 
She doesn’t seem to hear you, despite your relatively close proximity, perhaps because the music is too obnoxiously loud. Or at least, that’s what you think before the woman is beckoning you closer with a finger. Bossy. Just like Natasha.
You take another step towards her, then another step. She guides your hands to her waist, then with the drop of a beat, she spins around and presses herself flush against you, ass grinding up and down against your crotch area.
The arousal hits you, and a low growl catches in your throat. Seductive, just like Natasha, because she was the Goddess of–
You haul yourself out of that spiral before it can take you on an unwanted trip down memory lane. You needed to forget. And the gorgeous woman putting herself up for grabs in front of you seemed like a very good distraction.
You splay your right hand over her thinly-clothed stomach, hearing her little gasp at your warmth and requited boldness, while your left-hand works its way through her hair and tugs on it. Her reaction is exactly as desired, a low hum of desire like music to your ears, and the way she’s eagerly grinding on your growing bulge is certainly not something you’d complain about.
“Wanna step outside for a little bit?” You ask lowly, dipping your head down to drag your teeth lightly along her ear.
“Oh, fuck! Please!” 
Her moans bounce off the walls of the dingy alleyway, as you thrust into her. You let her arms wrap around the back of your neck, her grasp tightening with each of your ministrations. Sandwiched between your body and the brick wall was her writhing figure, squirming as your hands supported her up.
The two of you hadn’t even made it two blocks away from the bar, to her apartment which was not too far away – the result of unbridled, alcohol-induced lust was a dimly-shrouded alleyway with two bodies desperately seeking warmth for one night.
Even as you had your cock inside her, feeling how wet she was for you, it didn’t feel right.
The noises she made were too high-pitched, too grating on the ears. Natasha’s ones had sounded heaps better; with the smoky husk that grew more breathless as she called out your name.
Even as she had her hands wrapped around your back, it felt wrong.
Her nails were too short and she was gripping at the fabric on the back of your shirt, tugging at all the angles that made it uncomfortable. Natasha had been so much more different, digging crescent-shaped imprints into the back of your neck that hurt so good.
Nevertheless, you tried your best to make the experience enjoyable. You swear you fucking tried.
“Let me,” you whispered into her ear, taking her hands off your back and placing them above her head. “Y-yeah, please,” she whined in response, but you barely heard her. 
You stepped closer to the wall, pushing yourself farther inside her. Distracting yourself by using your free hand to grope at her breasts through the fabric, then running your palms over her hardened nipples.
Fuck, even her breasts couldn’t compare to Natasha’s. 
Tears prickled at the back of your eyes, burned like gasoline, because what the fuck had you done to deserve this? Lose the ‘love of your life’ one night, get shit-faced the next day, and end up with your cock inside some woman whose name you didn’t even know.
Even as you sloppily thrust into her, try to forget, try to forget, it can’t work. It won’t fuckin’ work. It would never work, because no one could ever be Natasha.
God, she had taken you on the biggest thrill of your goddamned life, then stopped the rollercoaster while you were suspended midair.
And there you were, hanging above the world with no safety net, and you were oh so lonely.
“Oh please, more,” the woman cries, moving her hips to chase her high, her hands on your clothes again. What the fuck? “Daddy!” she shrieks, once, at a certain deeper thrust, and you pull out faster than you ever have before.
The vision of you and Natasha on that beach in Malibu flashes before your eyes like a movie screen, and the light reflects of your empty eyes. 
“Has the Goddess of Lust never called anyone daddy?” you had asked, trying to make sense of her seemingly unorthodox shame at using that title on you.
“It’s complicated,” Natasha had replied, squirming under your inspective gaze. She had trailed her hand down to your cock again, but you had denied her of that pleasure. “We’re not done here, sweetheart.”
“Fine,” Natasha had grumbled, adorably pouty. “That’s the first time I've ever called it out, like, in the heat of the moment. I'm always the one doing the seduction and the flirting, so I call my partner that if I think they'd be into it. It's never been… spontaneous, I guess."
“Oh,” you replied then, softly, trailing her rib with a gentle finger. “I think I quite like it.”
Fuck, you didn’t ‘quite like it’ anymore. You hated it, fucking hated it, hated you ever got attached to anything like that. Malibu seems like a distant fantasy, the grains of sand on the beach falling through your fingers like those in an hourglass.
What could’ve happened if you and Natasha had more time? If she hadn’t broken it off? Would you have married her? Could you two have been truly happy?
“No, please, I was so close,” the woman from the bar whines, clinging onto you, suffocating you. You took a step back, eyes wide, feeling like you were in a state of psychedelia. 
The woman’s hair wasn’t the right shade of brown. Her green eyes looked like fool’s gold compared to Natasha’s kaleidoscopic ones. She was wrong, so wrong.
“I can’t,” you breathe, feeling your heart thudding against the cages of your chest, screaming to be let out. Your chest heaves with desperation, eyes wide and flitting. You pull up your pants, button your shirt shakily. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
Everything was wrong. You weren’t okay. You just needed Natasha, you just needed her.
“What?” the woman responds, stepping away from you, looking at you like you were some lost animal. Maybe you were, trembling in the cold night air, pathetic and pitiable. At the knowledge that you weren’t joking, she lets out a half-assed scoff.
“Fuckin’ loser,” she calls out in contempt, her sharp voice echoing in the alleyway as she stalks away, and you slide down the wall with a wracking sob.
Natasha wasn't just different from any other woman you could be with — she was other-wordly, metaphorically and physically, and no one would ever be able to come close.
You sit there, crying into your hands, wondering how much of a fool you probably looked like.
Natasha had chewed you up and then spat you out, leaving you on the graffitied path of a dingy alleyway: A disfigured shape of the person you once were, just waiting to be crushed once more.
The Goddess of Lust sits upon her throne, a falsified smile on her breathtaking face. Her eyelids flutter in practiced motion, so innocently charming. She twirls a strand of hair between her fingers, just like she was taught.
“So, you’ll agree to this deal?” she asks, especially softly, making her voice a little more husky than it naturally was. 
The men before her all nodded desperately, prey to her thrall like lambs to the slaughter. Fuck, men across the universe had one thing in common and that was their unbridled horniness. “Of course, Goddess, as long as you, uh, give us a little bonus.” A bold one added, not even trying to hide the sexual innuendo.
Natasha wanted to rip someone apart, but all she did was sweetly plaster a smile across her delicate features and nod in faux bashfulness.
She tunes out the mindless drivel of business in the works and plans to be carried out for the betterment of her kingdom. It was worse than watching paint dry. 
Suddenly, a jolt of nausea hit her and she jerked in her throne.
“Is something the matter, Goddess Natasha?”
The Goddess of Lust swallows harshly, her stomach lurching with each passing second. “I- uh, I think I need some rest, that’s all,” she says, forcing a smile through gritted teeth.
“But we’re not done discussing the-”
Natasha scoffs, ignoring the searing pain to spit out her next words with venom. “I suggest you make your way out of my palace before I ensure you never step foot into my kingdom again.”
At that, the man who had been speaking to her turned flushed with irritation but bit back his words. He shook his head at the rest, leaving resolutely with his ego bruised.
The moment the men were out of her sight, Natasha teleported to the bathroom in her master bedroom and positively threw up in the toilet bowl, tears in her eyes. Was this the consequence of her actions? To suck up to shitty men and feel like a pile of shit?
Come to think of it, Natasha hadn’t felt this sick only until the two of you had been split apart a month ago. On some days, she would not stop throwing up, or her toes would grow numb, or she would get that sour, metallic taste in her mouth that made her want to throw up all over again.
It was downright ridiculous. The only types of people with these urges were women from Earth who were preg-
Oh no.
Natasha sinks down onto the cold marble of her bathroom floor, hand gripping at the side of the gold bathtub. She feels sick, all over.
Oh, hell fuckin’ no.
There was no way. There was just simply no way that this was happening right now. Because she had lost you. The mere thought of being tied to you in that sort of way was out of the question.
With another snap of her fingers, Natasha materializes in front of Stephen Strange’s castle. She probably looked ridiculous, tears staining her face while in a fancy dress, showing up on the doorstep of a friend she hadn’t seen in ages.
Strange was the God of Time, but it was more than well-known he had been a miracle surgeon, a lifetime ago. When the door opened, Natasha’s tears were welling up, and immediately the dark-haired man stepped aside to let her in.
“What’s the matter, Nat?” he asked softly. The Goddess sniffs, ragged breaths shaking her whole body. “I have a little medical issue.” she replies despondently.
“Why didn’t you go to Helen? You know she’s the Goddess of Health,” Strange says, stepping back slowly, then turning around and gesturing for Natasha to follow. As he begins walking up the steps, he continues. “Or Shuri, for that matter. Goddess of Geniuses. There’s no better bet than her, am I right?”
As they enter a room with medical equipment, Natasha sighs. “This is a special case. Something that I don’t want to make public, even if it is confirmed to be true.”
“Oh,” the God says thoughtfully. “I’ll do my best, in that case.” He moves to grab a device from the table, but 
“I’m sorry, Stephen. It’s just…… I don’t want all that. Can you just…… you know,” she asks, trying to force a lopsided smile onto her face, to ease the growing tension.
The God looks taken aback for a moment, before putting down the device and nodding in agreement. He closes his eyes, and gradually a golden light encases the room, warm and inviting.
Sparks fly, swirling from the walls before they encircle Natasha. Glowing brightly, swimming with power.
There are two heartbeats, one is hers and one is Strange’s, both strong and steady. But there is also a third one, with weaker and slower thuds.
Strange waves his hand and opens his eyes. The lights fade into nothingness. There is a moment after that, when Natasha locks eyes with him, that the galaxy hangs on its axis and everything becomes nothing.
“Natasha… you’re pregnant.”
Stumbling into your apartment with your head spinning, you unbutton your shirt and shrug it off, tossing it somewhere into the darkness of your home.
You had far too many drinks than what was considered acceptable, and it was 3.47 am. At least, that’s what the numbers on your phone told you. Maybe it was 7.43 am. Ah, you wouldn’t fuckin’ know. You couldn’t read the numbers with your dizzied vision.
Rubbing at your nose and then sniffing loudly, you almost trip over the leg of a strewn chair as you reach for the light switch. Right, the chair you had thrown across the living room when you had a breakdown that morning. Well, yesterday morning.
You cough out, hands gripping the wall for support, and your throat is too fucking raw and your eyes well up for the umpteenth time. “I’m pathetic,” you whisper to no one in particular. Your shaking hands finally find the light switch and you flick it on.
“At least you’re self-aware. Because you look like shit.”
You leap backwards at the sound before you, cursing as you knock into the chair again and fall over. 
The lights flickering on reveal a man dressed in a dark green robe, a horn-shaped gold ornament on his head. He looks at you with a sadistic smirk playing on his lips, eating a slice of — was that your fucking leftover pizza?
“Who- who are you,” you breathe out, absolutely convinced you were just hallucinating. This felt oddly reminiscent of the time Carol had scared you in your office, except this man made your stomach churn in the worst ways possible.
He dusted off his clothes of the pizza crumbs, stepping up to you slowly, and you hate how your heart pounds in absolute fear. The man leans down to meet you at eye level, his black curls falling as his lips curve upwards. 
“I am Loki, and I am burdened with glorious purpose. Some call me the fallen angel, or the devil’s incarnate, but I have and always will be a god,” he says, and the way he carried himself with such calculated ease and unnerving confidence had you frozen in place. 
“Y/N L/N, today I grace you with my presence to strike a deal.” He continues, straightening up again to start pacing the room.
“And what makes you think you can do anything for me?” you ask, in disbelief, almost laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. Your grin fades away at the seriousness behind Loki’s deceiving eyes. 
He stops and turns around, locking eyes with you. Your heart rises. No.
“I can make you a God.”
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taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @lovebelt05 @girllcver @godsfavouritelesbiann @natashaswife4125 @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33_mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02
@jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight @gingerninja1993 @yourfavdummy @iliketigolbitties @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713 @xxsekhmet @marvel_simp @maowlxslay @lizbugwanda @peggycarter3 @flositaa @dooblekhay @aliherrerasz @theo-021 @hopelesslyfalleninlove @secretbackrooms @natasha10273 @justyourwritter69 @theo-221b @wandaromanoff69 @eatkobi @lovelyy-moonlight @morganismspam23 @unexpected-character @rdfgfv @natsxwife @romanoffkink @wandascandy @cd-4848 @mmmmokdok @bisexualbritish @marvelonmymind @jareguiromanoff @benizaa @reereeineedtopee @p1ut0smoon @marvelwomen-simp @traveler-at-heart @slashermeslashers @yourlovergorl
did anyone notice loki was first mentioned in chapter 2?? i was foreshadowing or at least i tried to LMAO
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justiceb68 · 2 years
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お久しぶり
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leiswxrld · 9 months
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𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄
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𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒… “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…right”
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Street racer!Tom Kaulitz x Street racer!black fem reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, p in v sex, riding, missionary, public sex in a car, enemies to lovers trope, Tom low-key misogynistic, no condom, Tom is 18+, inspired by Tokyo drift.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3691 Words
𝐀/𝐍: please make suggestions on what I should write next low-key running out of ideas and dw sub!bill one shot has not been forgotten, writing it soon. Also listen to the slowed and reverb version so much better.
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You were number one street racer in all of California and the first woman to win a race against all men which deemed you the name ‘the queen of street racing’ and since then you hadn’t lost a race until he came along.
You were crouched in front of your car cleaning the exterior of your customised purple Nissan 350-Z, making sure to wash off the dirt from your last race. The soapy suds splattered all over your black dungaree as you wiped the sweat that formed across your forehead, the noises from your boombox echoed in your garage as tap in by saweetie played through as you bounced to the beat, muttering the lyrics under your breath.
You grabbed the mechanical creeper at your side and rolled under your car making a few adjustments and changing the oil filter before coming back up covered in muck and oil. The sudden ring of your phone was heard as you go to grab it, pressing the green illuminated button, “Hello”
“Yo Y/N got a race for you tonight you able to make it for today”
You contiplated your choices, hand gravitating to your hips. You really could use the money, “how much”
“About 1000 grand if you win this race”
“Alright I’ll be there in an hour”
“Ight bet see you there”
You hang up and decided the first thing on the agenda was to take a shower. You get dressed into the casual outfit you normally wore, a short purple skirt and a crop top, matched with long boots and a pair of earrings and necklace to go with. If you were going to race you were going to make sure you looked good doing it.
Sliding into the drivers side, you pushed the keys into the ignition and the engine came to life with a roar and you grinned in excitement as you turned on the radio connecting your phone to it as Shut up and drive by Rihanna blasted through the speakers. You revved the engine, the exhausts making popping sounds every time you pressed you foot on the pedal. You had exactly 10 mins to get there and you were guaranteed you were going to make it.
You took off, zooming down the streets of LA California with the windows rolled down as the midnight breeze hit your skin sending goosebumps throughout. Your hands controlled the steering wheel, making direct and quick turns towards the race. The familiar neon lights came into view as you saw the different drivers parked up in lanes over at the track, you park next to the familiar driver you knew as Devante who looked smug as usual, you wouldn’t consider him a friend or fiend but someone you could tolerate.
Stepping outside the vehicle, Devante doesn’t miss the chance to make his advances towards you letting out a whistle as you throw him the middle finger, “if it isn’t Y/N what are you doing here shouldn’t you be in the kitchen or something”
“Very fucking funny Devante the only person that will be in the kitchen will be you when I beat you in the race” you snidely reply, flicking your hair behind your back. He chuckles leaning against the side of his car as he seemed to eye you up more than usual, “We will see bout’ that Y/N when you’ll be the one making me a sandwich”
You ignore his dumb comment and your eyes linger to unfamiliar face down the far right with the black car which seemed to be a 1997 Mazda RX-7. He was tall about 6’2 from your usual height, the rows of cornrows he had surprisingly looked good for the white boy and he had a long white tee and baggy blue jeans that were sagged. He was beyond fine than you liked to admit even though you could barley see him to begin with and seemingly kept to himself not worrying about the people around him.
“Devante who’s the guy stood over there with the black car on the far right” you say pointing in the direction of the mysterious boy, he looks towards the direction your pointing in and chuckles, “Oh him that’s Tom Kaulitz German racer apparently he’s a pretty big deal in Germany won every race he’s been in”
You nod looking back at the boy almost mugging him, “What don’t tell me the queen of racing is scared she might actually lose to big sensation Tom Kaulitz” he teases and you roll your eyes and cross your arms .
“Puh-lease I’ve won every race there’s no way I’m scared that ‘big sensation’ Tom Kaulitz will beat me, it will be like every other race an easy 1000 dollars made”
He smirks eyebrow pointing upwards, “if you say so”
Your attention is drawn to the two Asian girls with flags, signalling the race was about to begin. “May the best racer win” you salute at him before climbing into your car, fixing the rearview mirror. You check yourself out once more, applying a fresh coat of clear lip gloss before flicking the mirror back up. Your attention is brought back to the two girls as they waved the flags, you revved your engine getting ready to take off.
You smiled at the familiar sight of your fan girls that we’re screaming you on, you send them a wave and a rev of your engine egging them on. Your head turns toward your competitors as they seemed to do the same thing sizing you up as you gave them all a wink. The girls wave their flags counting down from 3 until they reached 1 waving their flags down signalling to go and you take off with a quickness leaving a gust of wind behind.
You screamed in excitement, the thrill of driving going up as your adrenaline pumped your heart harder. Your foot pressed hard against the accelerator, making harsh turns as you watched your competitors in the rear view and they were inches behind you, luckily this race was one lap only and you knew easily you would win. You picked up speed, following the course of the road.
Your hand gravitated to the stick shift changing the gears every time you heard the timed ticks from the engine, the purple fumes illuminated the road as you turned the corner. One of the racers picked up speed going neck to neck with you and turned your head for a second to see it was that German driver. You sneered as he turned in your direction with a grin, speeding past you, “Fuck”
You chased after him, changing gears and your speed exceeding over 140 mph. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as your lungs tightened with anticipation, you were overtaking each other each second and the finish line was nearing, you knew you couldn’t lose especially not some newbie that you barley knew. You were swerving at each corner, the tires making noises against the tarmac as the finish line came into view and you pressed your leg harder on the pedal, not paying attention to the other drivers but you and him.
“Come on…come on….come on…”
And with that you both make it to the finish line and you didn’t come first place. You slowed down, parking your car near the finish line. Furious wasn’t a way to describe how you were feeling, you were beyond pissed to the point you felt actual fumes coming out from both ears. You watched how king dickhead got praises and cheers from the crowd as he seemed to be boastful about it in excitement as if he was trying to intentionally piss you off more.
Devante and the rest of the drivers pull up next to you and get out of their vehicles and you follow, glaring at the one who took your position as winner. “Seems like you owe me a sandwich”
“Fuck off D not now” he put his hands up at your snarky attitude and you continued to look at Tom. From now on he was captain asshole and you would make sure you would make it know.
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A few weeks went by and you went from number one female driver in LA to second place, every race you were in Tom managed to beat and steal your thunder; you managed to lose half off your fan base because of the amount of losses you had and they all migrated to Toms side which he decided to call them his ‘Girlfriends’ stupid name I know and rumour has it that he hooks up with his fans as an ‘extra reward’ how infuriating could he get.
He also liked to piss you off at any chance; embarrassing you in front of his fans and your own, calling you names and laughing at your faults every time you thought no one was watching, you were fucking sick off him.
“I can’t fucking stand him” you voiced out to your home girl on the phone as you worked on the engine of your car. “I know babe you’ve voiced this out every time you call me”
“Well you can understand why though; he took my place as the best driver in LA, stole basically all of my fans and practically doesn’t stop to embarrass and shame me for not winning”
“Girl why don’t you just race him only to prove to him that you can beat him in a race” she suggests and your eyes lit up with excitement, “That’s it thanks Suki talk to you later”
The next time you see him is after the race and he beat you once again. You waltzed your way towards him as he was distracted by the multiple girls that crowded around him. “Kaulitz” you yell out and he turns around towering over you, “Come to congratulate me Y/N” he says with a slight smirk on his face.
“No but I’m here to challenge you to a race tomorrow night at 11pm at the old warehouse” the whole crowd make noises to the sudden call our as you cross your arms waiting for his response, “Bet it will be fun seeing you lose once again”
“We’ll see about that Kaulitz” you reply and he steps towards you, his mouth moving to your ear “I’ll see you tomorrow night when you lose once again to me” you wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face as you turn around, walking back to the direction of your car with a sway of your hips.
The next day you made sure you looked your best, you wore a tight purple dress that reached your thighs and knee high boots with a pair of purple sunglasses. You applied a thin layer of lipgloss and get into your car watching the time approach 11pm. You drove your way to the meet up spot and it was busier than usual, your fans and his fans in one spot as you parked at your designated area.
You spot suki and devante and give them a slight wave and as usual Tom was late, his black Mazda pulling in and parking next to you. You could sense his eyes on you as you turn to face him, he throws you a wink and you roll your eyes fixing your rearview mirror. “Good luck” Suki shouts from the crowd sending a heart your way and you pretend to catch it sending one back.
The two girls stand in front of you once again, waving their flags in a mannered fashion counting down from three before hitting one and wave their flags downwards and you take off. Both of you were out for blood, refusing to stand down without a fight. Your hand stayed on the stick shift as the other was on the steering wheel, the cold breeze blew into your car as the sounds of the exhausts echoed into the night sky. Tom looked at you with a grin and you wondered what he was thinking.
He sped up and cut you off from turning the corner nearly making you spin out of control into the street lamp in front of you. “That fucker” you screamed and you pressed your foot on the accelerator gaining speed until you we’re neck to neck with him and you turn to face him, “Pull over now” you yell signalling go the side of the road, he seems to catch on and follows you onto the side of the road, parking behind you.
You get out of the car and march towards his car, knocking on his window and he reluctantly rolls it down, “What the fuck is your problem you cut me off back there and I nearly hit a street lamp”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about princess maybe racing isn’t cut out for women like you”
“What the fuck do you mean by it isn’t cut out for women like me” you question,
“You know exactly what I mean I don’t need to repeat myself” your fists were clenched and you were getting irritated by the minute and that surfaced heat felt like it needed to be let out instead of being bottled up.
“You know what fuck you Tom you think your such a fucking know it all showing off whenever you get the chance, you and your stupid car should’ve stayed in Germany you misogynistic prick” you sassed, pointing toward his car and him with every word.
“Oh Yeah is that how you feel about me” he reply’s, clearly amused by your response’s.
“Yeah that’s exactly how I feel and I’d appreciate if you would kindly listen and fuck off” he gets out his car slamming the door and he backs you up towards the back of his car.
“Or what princess what will you do if I don’t” he challenged, pressing a hand onto the rear end of his car.
You could feel it, the sexual tension was off the charts both refusing to stand down. You were Infuriated with him and it made you want to strangle him while the other half of you was annoyingly turned on by the argument you had spewed with him and you didn’t fail to notice his eyes flicker to your lips that were smeared with clear scented lipgloss and also don’t miss how he looks at the fat of your thighs and the way your dress hugs your body, showing off what you had to offer.
“I’ll make you” you say, pointing in his direction.
“Then make me princess”
You push him onto the side off his car and smash your lips against his, venting out the frustration and anger you felt towards him from the past few days. He moans in response, pulling on your hair as your noses bash against each other in the hungry kiss. You pull away and your lip gloss was smudged onto his lips and you giggle to yourself pointing to the back seat, “Get in the fucking car ”
“Don’t need to tell me twice” he replys,
You both climb into the back of his car, shutting the door behind you. You climb into his lap and your hands automatically cling to his shoulders and you begin grinding your clit into his pelvic bone creating a euphorical sensation as your hands went to press at his collar bone. You both touched and grabbed wherever you pleased not caring for the potential onlookers that could catch you both in the sinful act, “Fuck” he mutters, biting on your bottom lip as he helped you grind into him, using his hands.
His hands move to your ass, kneading it in both as he continued to grind into you in slow motions almost as if you were riding him. He curses feeling the wet spot of your arousal on top of his baggy jeans, you let out cute moans and whimpers as he left red love bites and markings across your neck, claiming you as his.
“Already soaking wet for me” he muttered bringing two fingers to brush against the fabric of your panties and your juices coat his fingers. He pushes your panties to the side and slides two fingers into you with intense eye contact, stroking his fingers every time with vulgar gestures. “Oh fuck”
Your fingers clench around his fingers as the squelchy sound of arousal filled the car. He watched how you lost yourself on his fingers, pumping them in and out as your legs began to shake. Your head fell back as he stroked your spot every time, “Shit” you curse and you come all over his fingers as he slowly came to a stop before pulling them out.
He brings his fingers to his mouth tasting you and he groans around them, “Taste so fucking sweet”
You were so turned on beyond recognition and you needed him to be inside you then and there. You unbutton his jeans and he helps you pull them off along with his boxers exposing his fully erect cock and immediately direct it to your opening, “Eager are we” he teased, watching as you sunk down on his length with a gasp. “So fucking tight…shit”
You collected yourself for a second before lifting up and sinking back down, a guttural moan emits from his mouth as you began riding him. You hated to admit that he was bigger and thicker than the others you had hooked up with in the past, it felt like with every bounce he was breaking you apart on his cock. “So…fucking big”
He watched you under his gaze, hands going to your hips as he grinded your clit into his hip bringing immense pleasure that you felt you would come that second by just a few thrusts. “You needed this dick didn’t you” he questioned and you moaned in response, hand tightening on the seat behind him. “Fuck yourself on my cock…just like that ”
You were fully bouncing on him, the car shaking and the windows fogging up as your hand fell onto the window leaving a hand print on it. His head rolled back, groaning at how tight you were almost like a vice gripping him with immense tightness. “How long have you thought about fucking me Y/N”
“For so- fucking long” you confess, you we’re in the moment this would be forgotten by tomorrow morning. “Yeah tell me how fucking good I’m making you”
“Mhmm-”
“Tell me”
“Your making me feel so fucking good” you admit, eyes rolling back as your orgasm neared. “I’m gonna cum all over you Tommy all over your fat cock” you moan out, sinking your teeth into the crook of his neck. “Wait I’m not done with yet” he stops you and rolls you both over so that your back is against the car seat and he hovered on top of you.
He began pounding into you, every thrust hitting that spongy spot inside, your voice box emitting raspy moans feeling your breath caught in your throat as tears began to form in your waterline. “Ohhhh-fuck” it was too much for you to handle, trying to escape his harsh pounding, “Don’t run away this is what you wanted…. right” he mocked bringing his hand to remove the top of your dress, exposing your tits.
He slapped one of them grunting as he felt himself get closer and closer, “Where do you want it- fuck” he asks and you open your eyes, “In me….cum inside of me” you scream, wrapping your arms around his back and bringing him into another kiss, tongues tangling and moans mixing. “Shit”
You finally cum, your body convulsing as your orgasm hit you like a brick. Toms pace never faltered chasing his own before releasing inside you with a grunt and you moan at the warm liquid filling you up. You were out of breath feeling the now newfound embarrassment of fucking someone you hated and avoided eye contact. “Don’t get shy on me look at me” he finally says, gently putting his hand onto your cheek and forcing you to look at him.
“No one ever said I was shy you just assumed it” you lie, huffing out. “Mhmm definitely believe you princess” your cheeks flutter at the nickname and you curse yourself, why were you all of a sudden shy around him it made you want to puke. “I’ll let you win the race”
“Wait what really” you say surprised, what was he getting at.
“I wouldn’t say this if i didn’t mean it you know I love to win a race”
You roll your eyes, “and what’s the catch”
“The catch is you have to let me take you out somewhere”
“And why would I willingly agree to that”
“Because you like me”
“Just cause we fucked don’t mean I like you idiot”
“Tell that to someone else sweetheart don’t think I didn’t catch the way you reacted to me calling you princess earlier”
“Fuck off” you reply with playful hit on his chest,
“Admit it”
“A girl never spills her secret but I agree to your stupid date because I want to win”
“Mhmm keep telling yourself that”
He gives you one more kiss before you both get dressed and you cringe at the feeling of his cum falling down your leg. “Race you there loser” you mimic him from earlier and you get into your car, taking off towards the finish line.
Of course you came first place and your fans cheered like crazy congratulating you as you thanked everyone. Tom pulled up next to you and he gives you a knowing look as he walks toward his friends and you walk towards Suki giving her a hug. “Congrats Y/N what does it feel like to be LA’s winner in the first time in 4 weeks” she says pushing a fake microphone towards your lips, “Feels fucking amazing that’s what it feels like” your eyes gravitate to Tom and he was already looking at you, sending a wink in your direction.
“Definitely feels amazing”
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incorrectbatfam · 11 months
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Batfam’s Father’s Day plans
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(also on Ao3)
"Morning, Bruce."
The way Stephanie says that instantly makes him look up. She traces her socked toe on the right angles of the tile, looking down. 
"Morning, Steph." Bruce puts his coffee down. "Something wrong?"
"Huh?" She perks up in realization. "No, not at all. I actually just have something for you. I stopped by Walgreens on patrol last night 'cause I ran out of antiseptic, and I saw something that reminded me of you." 
She hands him a dark blue greeting card with a cartoon fruit bat and Comic Sans text reading: You drive me batty, but I love you.
"Get it? 'Cause it's a bat, and you're the Batman." She scratches the back of her neck. "Not trying to make it weird or anything, you're just a cool mentor and whatnot. But also, it's nice to have someone who you can mess around with. My old man was always talking business even when he was at home—you kinda do that too, but in a good way 'cause anything's better than being a D-list villain, y'know. Plus, unlike him, you're working on striking a balance. Sometimes you even have a sense of humor." She chuckles awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm going on a jog. Text me if you need anything." 
Before he processes her rambling, she grabs a granola bar and races out the door. He opens the card and out falls out a handful of purple confetti plus an ever-rare two-dollar bill. Smiling, he brushes the confetti up and puts it in his shirt pocket. 
Bruce checks his watch. Everyone else is already out, except for Cass. She was out late last night on that Clayface mission, but even she should be up by this time. He fixes her a bowl of cereal with the package instructions and brings it upstairs. 
"Cass?" He knocks. "Are you up yet? It's past 9:30."
He hears the duvet crunch like a candy wrapper as she shuffles around. A moment later, the door swings open as a messy-haired Cass yawns. 
"I'll leave this up here for you," he says, putting the bowl on the dresser. "Any big plans today?"
She shakes her head. "Write reports. And relax."
"Well, you deserve a break. Great job on the stakeout, Princess." He plants a quick kiss on her forehead. 
"Love," she says.
"Huh?"
"Favorite thing you do. Love."
He laughs softly. "I try. Now go get dressed."
The rest of the day goes by like any other. Despite it being Sunday, he still has a meeting scheduled with some Singaporean investors on their timezone. By eleven, he and some other executives are gathered around the long conference table as the video call drones on, and it's not until over an hour later that they're finally let out. Bruce loosens his tie and Tim does the same, sighing in relief and exhaustion. 
Bruce asks, "Did you have lunch yet?"
"Oh, I forgot that's a thing," Tim says, stretching. "Hey, remember that ice cream place on 32nd?"
"You want ice cream for lunch?"
"I'd break your no killing rule for their M&M cookie sundae, okay?" he says. "Besides, remember when you took my friends and I there even though we massively bombed our first off-world fight? I might still be a massive perfectionist but that made me get a little more comfortable with failing. Anyway, I thought it'd be cool to stroll down memory lane—and have junk food as a meal without Alfred knowing. Unless you're busy, which I totally get."
"Not at all," Bruce replies, putting an arm around Tim's shoulders. "Duke and Damian will be at the arcade all day and I don't have any urgent side business." 
And so, instead of calling Alfred for a ride, they journey through the Gotham subways with Tim's camera capturing the Grammy-worthy saga of a billionaire CEO battling a common turnstyle. They get a few side-glances in the sparse train car, but besides a teenager asking for Tim's autograph, the civilians leave them alone. Pretty soon, they're at a 1950s-themed ice cream parlor, where the waitress slides their orders down the long chromium bar. 
"Why do they call it a banana split?" Bruce asks, grabbing the cocoa powder shaker. 
Tim pauses mid-bite of his cookie. "...Because they split the banana in half?"
"Really?"
He moves the whipped cream aside to reveal the cut banana in Bruce's dish. 
"How would it sound if I said I never noticed that?"
He smirks. "That's why I'm the brains of this operation."
"Indeed you are." Bruce ruffles his hair. "Though this head of yours could use some shampoo." 
"Will saying I love you get me a free pass out of it?"
"No." He laughs. "But I love you too, son."
Alfred catches on to their little dessert escapade and picks them up from the parlor, though not without commenting on the strawberry stain on Bruce's jacket. As Tim plugs his music into the car, Bruce takes the time to listen to the voicemails he got during their lunch break. 
"Hiya Bruce," Clark's voice plays. "I hope today's going swell for you. I just want you to know that I'm glad I can call you my pard'ner." Bruce snickers at the country twang.
Next is Diana. "Bruce, I apologize if I must keep this brief since I have a curator's convention today. However, I wish to tell you that you are an invaluable teammate and even more remarkable friend."
"Hey Batman, I gave you a shoutout to the Central City press for your help taking down Weather Wizard," Barry says. "Also, thanks for letting me borrow your communicator. I can always count on you to be overprepared. Have a good one!"
"Bats, tell your kid to quit taking my yogurt from the fridge." Ah, good old Hal. "Also, today's all about guys like you, so... yeah. I admit, you could be worse." 
Finally, there's one from Zatanna. "Afternoon, Bruce! I'd tell you in person if I wasn't caught up in Kahndaq, but I hope today is extra special for you. I know how much the birds mean to you, and I know they're gonna treat you well."
(There's also one from Ollie, but he's just asking if he can use the communicator after Barry. In the background, Dinah is is clearly ordering food.) 
After dropping Tim and Alfred home and switching to a more discreet vehicle, Bruce makes his way to pick two of his other kids up from the arcade. 
"Did you guys have fun?" Bruce asks as they climb in.
"We decimated every game," Damian says, "and won you the finest specimen as a trophy."
He plops a five-foot Snorlax into the front seat and buckles the seatbelt.
"This is for me?" Bruce asks. 
"Tt, who else would it be for?"
"I didn't win as many tickets," Duke says, "but I also got you a spider ring and a Chinese finger trap." He puts them in the cupholder.
"Why are you giving me all your prizes?"
"Again, who else would we give them to?" Damian asks.
Duke says, "I think what he means is that you do a lot for us, so this is a thanks from us."
As silly as it might seem, Bruce is genuinely touched. 
Pre-patrol dinner is a quiet affair, with Kate stopping by because she apparently forgot to go grocery shopping. She takes a fingerling potato off his plate. 
"Um, you're welcome?" he says. 
"Bruce, we're family. It's what we do." She takes a bite. 
He takes a piece of asparagus from her. "I wish all of us were here, though. Too bad Dick and Jason have that Penguin stakeout. Hopefully they're being safe."
"Even if things go wrong, they were taught by the best. You should trust them more." Selina gets up and places a peck on his cheek before going to get a drink. 
"I do," he mumbles into his meal. "It's the world I don't trust." 
As he puts on his cowl, he asks Barbara for an update on the evening. So far, Duke is handling a carjacking, the girls are preoccupied with a strip mall hostage situation, Damian is patrolling Metropolis with Jon, and Kate is kicking off her shift with a car chase against Two-Face. Tim and Selina are staying back to catch up on some overdue reports, but other than that, the cave is quiet. 
"Before you go," Barbara says, "my dad was cleaning out the attic and found something you might like."
From her bag, she pulls out a blue mug that says: World's Okayest Dad.
"My brother got it for him a long time ago, but... you know. It's all yours now, if you want it." 
He takes it, running his thumb along the words. 
"It suits you," she says before turning back to relay something to Stephanie. 
The route laid out for him tonight gives him the perfect opportunity to swing by and check on two of his boys. He lands on the rooftop silently, where Nightwing and Red Hood have already set up camp. Evidently, they don't notice him as they keep going with their conversation.
"Did you get dropped on your head as a baby?" Jason asks. "Sour cream and Greek yogurt are not the same thing."
"They totally are, change my mind." Dick glances through his binoculars. "No sign of Cobblepot yet."
A moment goes by as Jason not-so-covertly steals some of his brother's patrol snacks. 
"So how'd family therapy go yesterday?" Jason asks. "Did the old bat finally show an emotion?"
"It was pretty insightful, at least on my part." Dick lowers his binoculars. "I think I realized where Bruce's persistence comes from. It's annoying as hell, but I think that's how he maintains hope. And who knows, maybe it's his love language."
Jason scoffs. 
"I'm serious," he says. "I know none of us are stellar at this family thing, but we care about each other. You can't deny that. We just gotta... refine how we express it." 
"Count me out."
"Jaybird."
"Codenames, Dickhead."
Dick snickers. "You love us, admit it. All of us."
Jason mutters a string of curses under his breath before saying, "If you tell him, I'm filling your mattress with sour cream."
Bruce smiles and leaps to the next building. 
At the end of the night, Bruce finds Alfred brewing tea in the kitchen and takes the kettle from him. 
"I got this," he says. "Why don't you go relax in the living room? I think they added your favorite detective movie to Netflix." 
"This is a pleasant surprise." Alfred raises an eyebrow. "What brought it on?"
"It's Father's Day, of course," he replies, pouring the cups of tea. "You know you've always been a second dad to me."
"You made that clear with last year's breakfast surprise," Alfred says. "Care to join me?"
"Always," Bruce says. "By the way, do the kids seem different to you today?"
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saintunhinged · 6 months
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you find a picture of asra from long before the two of you met and you can’t stop admiring it.
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You stumble into the room that both you and Asra shared, only to find colorful clothes scattered on the bed. You had no doubt that they belonged to Asra. On the edge of the bed was a framed picture, so close to falling off that a bump to the mattress could have made it fall and broken it.
He always was a bit messy, but you didn’t mind helping him straighten up his things here and there.
Making your way to fix it, your eyes fall on the young kid in the photo. A wide smile paints your face as you recognize what it is— or who. Bright purple eyes stared from the picture, yet these eyes belonged to a younger version of the person you knew. The white hair and golden skin gave it away, not to mention the signature scarf he always styled with his outfits.
You almost wanted to let out a loud “aw” at the sight of a much younger Asra smiling at you from the picture, but the familiar voice that came from behind you had spoke even before a could even get a word out.
Just as you marveled at the younger version of him, the familiar voice of your magician lover interrupted your thoughts. “I meant to clean this mess up.” Asra declared, appearing in the doorway with an apologetic grin on his face.
Instead, you turn around with the frame in your hand. “You were so adorable!” you exclaimed, unable to hold your excitement.
Asra’s eyes met yours, curiosity dancing in the violet depths. A soft smile graced his lips, the contrast between the past and present evident in the warmth that radiated from the framed photograph and the genuine connection between you and the person before you.
His eyes twinkled mischievously as he observed you holding the framed picture. “Ah, my youthful days,” he mused, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Care to share what you’ve found?”
You couldn’t contain the affectionate grin on your face. “Look at you! White hair, golden skin, and that signature scarf. You were absolutely adorable.”
Asra chuckled, a melodic sound that filled the room with warmth. “I suppose I’ve always had a flair for fashion.” He gestured towards the colorful chaos on the bed. “Although, it seems my fashion sense hasn’t evolved much since then.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. Your style is timeless. Besides, who doesn’t love a bit of magic in their wardrobe?”
“As much as I appreciate your fashion critique,” Asra began, a playful glint in his eyes, “I need help cleaning up. Not that I mind the distraction, of course.”
You chuckled, joining him by the door. “Cleaning can wait. I’m too busy reveling in the cuteness overload from this picture.” You held the frame closer to him. “Did you always have that mischievous glint in your eyes?”
Asra grinned, leaning in to get a closer look. “Maybe. Magic and mischief tend to go hand in hand, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” you agreed, a teasing tone in your voice. “Though I have to say, present-day Asra might have a bit more charm, if that’s possible.”
A playful gasp escaped Asra’s lips. “I hopre you’re not implying I wasn’t the epitome of charm back then? I’ll have you know I was quite the charismatic little magician.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure you were. But now, you’re a charismatic, charming magician who also happens to share a room with me.”
Asra’s bright eyes sparkled with affection. “And how fortunate I am,” he replied, his voice dripping with playful sincerity. “Now, shall we continue this trip down memory lane or get back to the 'cleaning' business?”
You grin, holding the picture close to your heart. “Cleaning can wait. I’m too busy falling in love with the tiny, precious child in this photo... and the not-so-tiny, still-precious adult standing in front of me.”
His soft smirk deepened, his mischievous gaze locked onto yours. “Falling in love, you say? My, my, someone's being rather bold today.”
You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes matching his. “Can you blame me? I mean, just look at this adorable face.” You pointed at the picture, then at Asra, emphasizing your point.
He feigned modesty, placing a hand over his heart. “Oh, you flatter me. But you know, present-day me comes with a lot more... intriguing qualities.”
You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile forming. “Intriguing, huh? Do tell, I’m all ears.”
Asra stepped closer, a layer of thick white hair falling down his forehead, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, for starters, this Asra,” he starts, pointing to himself with his index finger, “knows a thing or two about casting spells of the heart. And perhaps, just perhaps, he’s been under the influence of a certain enchantment.”
You chuckled, playing along. “Is it reversible, or am I stuck with the consequences?”
Asra placed a finger to his lips, feigning deep contemplation. “I guess that depends. Are you prepared for a lifetime of charm, wit, and an abundance of wonderful moments?”
You pretended to ponder, tapping your chin. “Tough choice. But if it means being swept off my feet by a charming someone every day, I think I can handle it.”
A genuine laugh escaped Asra, the sound like music in the room. “Very well. Brace yourself for a lifetime of love, with a touch of mischief, of course.”
You held the framed picture between you two, as if sealing the deal. “Deal. Now, about this cleaning business... any chance we can clean the mess with our minds?” You half-way joke, but apart of you seriously didn’t feel like doing the physical work.
The magician’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I suppose a little magic wouldn't hurt. But only if you keep falling in love with the tiny, precious child and the not-so-tiny, still-precious me every day.”
You grinned, leaning in for a playful peck on Asra's cheek. “Deal.” And with that, you both set out to sprinkle a bit of magic on the chaos, leaving a trail of laughter and love in your wake.
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faeriekit · 18 days
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This is the story of the road that goes to my house, and what ghosts there do remain
Phic Phight Fill for @moipale
“Thermos?”
“Got it.”
“Wrist rays?”
“Got ‘em.” 
“Ray guns?” 
“Nah,” Sam drawls, bare feet on Jazz’s driver seat’s shoulder. Her fingers are on her phone. Her socks and shoes are somewhere below her seat. “Forgot them at home.”
Tucker takes a look at her. Despite her insistence on their absence, there’s three ray gun handles bulging out of the pockets in her black daisy dukes. The purple-green-plaid flannel’s tied around her waist, hiding half of it, but they’re not not there. 
In her black tank and bare feet in the back of Jazz’s jalopy, she looks as overheated as the rest of them. 
Tucker doesn’t feel any better, sweating through his tank and board shorts and all that. At least he had the sense to wear sandals, and not black pleather combat boots. 
“Jazz, she’s lying,” Tucker snitches, groaning when Sam gives him a retaliatory slap to the ribs. He gropes at the spot where a bruise will no doubt be forming. “Ow.”
“Sam,” Jazz offers with the finite patience of older siblings, “Stop hitting Tucker.”
“...M’kay,” Sam mumbles, and slumps down into the hot cloth seats that only soak up more heat the longer they’re in this car. “Can we turn on the AC?”
“It’s already on full blast, Sam.” 
Sam retaliates by kicking a car seat. Thankfully, slumping over allows her to reach Danny’s seat, as opposed to Jazz, who is driving, and Danny is fast asleep with what’s probably early-onset heat exhaustion. He doesn’t even notice.
Tucker needs AC, a nap, and snacks, in that order. “Can we break from the road trip for a gas station?” he begs, not whining, because he’s almost an adult now and begging is far more mature. 
Jazz doesn’t even dignify him with a glare in the mirror. “No stops. If we want to make it to Tracy, tonight, we’re not stopping unless someone has an emergency pee break on the side of the road.”
Great. Just great. 
“Bazooka?” Jazz continues their list, looking just as wilted as everyone else in the car. There’s no head band today; her hair is piled up as high on her head as she can get it, wire sunglasses perched there from their drive to Chelsea this morning. 
“Trunk,” Sam offers listlessly. 
“Map?”
Danny doesn’t answer. Because he’s asleep. 
“Danny’s got it,” Tucker points out, since he was at least paying attention. 
Jazz grumbles something rude and swipes the map of of her brother’s lap. “The next time the three of you upset an Ancient spirit of the Wild, I’m not helping you run.”
“Noted,” Tucker and Sam chorus. Tucker’s pretty sure she’s over exaggerating. 
…Maybe. 
He swipes his hat off and shoves it into a pocket, wiping sweat off of his forehead with the back of a hand. “Okay. We have…one night to get out to Tracy and find the body. The abandoned barge should actually be there this time.”
Jazz taps the brake, flicks on the turn signal, and takes a steep turn across the highway— superseding an additional three lanes of now-irritated traffic. “As opposed to…?”
Sam sighs. 
“As opposed to breaking into his haunted house and getting arrested,” Tucker admits wryly, just as slumped back as the girl herself. “Sam.”
“I paid bail. We’re fine,” Sam grumbles. Her arms cross. 
“We weren’t fine until Danny infected their computer to delete their records. I need to get to college, Sam! I can’t have an arrest on my record!” 
“Record, schmecord.”
“Sam!”
“As long as no one’s got a record,” Jazz intervenes loudly, the only college student in their car, “We’re good! Now, are we hunting the dead guy, or the guy who killed the dead guy?”
Tucker mentally debates whether or not rolling down the car window would give them some air, or just let more hot air into their already sweltering back seat. 
“Ghost who killed a dead guy, but who the dead guy probably summoned,” Sam clarifies with a sigh. 
“Oh, great. One of those.”
“And sending him back probably shot him back to the barge, though, so now…” Tucker leads the problem on, “And there’s a new moon tonight. So.”
Jazz sighs. Loudly. “Of all the months…it’s got to be the dog days of summer, huh?”
Sam tucks her legs in, finally too tired to pout about their circumstances. “More like hellhounds, honestly. Did you see the ghost in the lake last week?”
“Heard about it. There was a poltergeist in the old high school last night— the one before the move to Casper in the fifties. Mom and Dad went out there at midnight before they went to tackle the bog thing in the golf course pond this morning.” 
“So that’s what Dad was whining about,” Sam muses, tired and sweaty. “I’d assumed parks and recreation got mad at them for violating the water conservation order again.”
“Nah.” Jazz signals another turn, cutting around an Amazon delivery truck and zooming into a side road. “Bog monster thing. Enraged by all the golf balls hit at it.” 
“Goootcha.” 
Tucker throws his head back and groans. “Is this going to be all we do all summer break? Hunt ghosts? Get chased around the state by cops?” 
“Yeah/Probably,” Sam and Jazz agree, both exhausted at the prospect. 
Tucker gives in and rolls down the window. If he’s going to be stuck in the car with his two best friends and their adult supervision, he needs some moving air— even if it’s just as hot and twice as humid as inside the car. 
They’ll be in Tracy tomorrow. All they have to do is find an abandoned barge floating in a forgotten waterway. 
Easy. 
…And then all they have to do is fix the problem all over again the next time someone gets it in their head to go treasure-hunting this summer.
Tucker bangs his head against Danny’s headrest, waking the guy up in the process, and wishes he had agreed to go to comp-sci camp after all. 
“I hate July,” Jazz mutters. “All the crazies come out with the heat.”
Everyone agrees with a moan and a groan. 
Jazz clicks on the radio, finds something that isn’t entirely static, and the road continues onwards in front of them…and will for miles and miles of hot pavement more.
*
Complementary song accompaniment/title source for this fic: July, July by the Decemberists. Thanks for reading!
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noisycroissant · 6 months
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It'll Be Better in the Morning
Nanami x Reader
TW: mentions of blood
Nanami has, and will always be, a patient man. A calm man. Even when his thoughts are running a mile a minute, his face would never betray it.
His thoughts were certainly galloping right now. It kept getting in the way of him trying to navigate the lanes to your house.
The gash above his eyebrow, bleeding into his eye, certainly did not help either.
He finally saw your house. The soft light filtering in from the purple curtains in your front room. You were home.
Maybe his luck was finally changing.
He dragged himself up the two flights of stairs, rang the bell and leaned against the wall while waiting for you to open up.
"Who is it at this ti--," your words died as you took in the tall man, crumpled against your door, bleeding and soaked in rain water.
"Nanami!! Nana- KENTO CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
"I didn't know where else to go," he whispers before passing out completely.
*******
Nanami woke up because of the light in his face. It irritated him. He was finally at peace, a black sea of nothingness, where he was nothing, no thoughts, no pain, just floating, so calm...till this wretched beam of light smacked him in the face and pulled him out of all that.
Turns out it was sunlight filtering through a gap in the curtains.
Purple curtains.
Purple curtains?
He had dark blue ones at home.
Where the hell was he?
And then it all came back, hitting his mind like a freight train.
Shibuya, curses, the domain, Toji, Mahito, Maki, the old Zenin guy...Gojo...
Pain, blood, rain, walking, the cold seeping into his fingers, passing out at your door.
Your door.
He jumps up from the bed and groans loudly. His ribs hurt like hell. His arm is numb. His right eye is swollen shut.
"If you ever scare me like that again, just know that I can easily kill a man without leaving evidence. I did go to medical school, y'know?"
He hears your rant as you walk up to him and set a tray down on the side table next to the bed.
"How did I get here? What happened?" Nanami asks, trying to take in your expression of worry and concern.
"Shibuya happened. It's all over the news. I've called Shoko; she'll update the school on your whereabouts."
"As for you: broken ribs, 6 stitches on your head, 4 on your arm, a twisted ankle, multiple strained muscles. You'll survive...with proper rest and food," you listed out his injuries on your fingers. "Do you remember what you said before you passed out?"
"No, it's all a blur. Everything hurts," Nanami says as you help him lean back onto soft pillows.
"I have painkillers for that. But you need to eat something first. Got you some hot soup and rice," you say, putting the tray on his lap. "Need me to help you eat?"
Nanami tries to gather a spoonful of rice, but his hands shake slightly, devoid of any strength.
He sighs deeply and drops the spoon into the bowl.
"It's alright. I got you," you whisper as you pick up the bowl to help.
When you look up, what you see are tears slowly running down Nanami's face. He looks out the window while he cries silently.
You quickly move the tray out of the way and move in to hold him.
Nanami does something he thought he'd never do.
Breakdown into someone's hug.
You hold him as he shudders, tears wetting your tshirt. You slowly stroke his blonde hair and press kisses into his head, whispering, "It's okay Kento, I got you. You did well. You must have been scared for your friends. It's going to be alright now."
You hold him till the tears stop and he falls asleep on your lap. You hold him as he sleeps. You might not be able to fight curses, but you can ease a broken heart.
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arcielee · 10 months
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Our moonlight drive.
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Summary: A night drive with your boyfriend. Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 700+ Warnings: Modern Aemond fluff to soothe the soul.  Author's Note: This story is dedicated to the lovely, the talented @babygirlyofthevale 💜 This is a drabble, sweet piece inspired by the masterpiece in motion Comet Donati by @inthedayswhenlandswerefew (chapter2, oh my goodness). A big thank you to my darling beta readers for your help! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @sylas-the-grim​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​ @httpsdoll​ @theromanticegoist​ @hb8301​ @lovelykhaleesiii​ 
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Night is coming with its amber smear of burnt oranges and yellows overwhelmed with the purple hue swallowing the last of the day’s light. The route is familiar, a routine drive towards your favorite sweet spot, and the windows are down, letting the cool air knot your hair.
It isn’t far and Aemond parks further back, quickly out and moving to grab your door; you smile with the gesture as he shows that he is firstmost a gentleman, especially when it comes to you. You follow his steps and he reaches for your hand without looking back, knowing fully well that you will take his hand, enlacing your fingers with his own, a perfect fit. 
The ice cream parlor is a town antique, with a window opened for the late night crowd to come by. You order first and he leans against your backside, over your shoulder with the shimmer silver curtain of his locks spilling forward.
You feel the warm rumble when he adds, “She also would like sprinkles on top,” and reaches to take napkins from the dispenser. 
You peer up at him, a warm glow of pleasure that he remembered, that he knows your simple pleasures. 
There is a stone bench that you both straddle, facing one another with your treats in hand; he offers you a spoonful of his ice cream and leans forward to lick your waffle cone. The napkins he grabbed come in handy, helping the failing battle against the muggy night, the sweet spill of sprinkles over the cone’s edge. 
Once done, more napkins are needed to clean up and he takes your hand again, leading you back to the car. 
This is the only time you willingly place yourself in his blindspot, whenever he would drive but Aemond does not seem to mind it. He likes how you play the role of reconnoiter during daylight, but tonight the roads are empty and this allows you to sink comfortably into the passenger’s seat, enveloped in his scent of leather and his cologne, with a hint of smoke, and you enjoy the press of his large palm into the softness of your thighs, his thumb drawing small circles on the outside.
His vehicle is an imported stick shift, sleek and meticulous, allowing him the control he strives for in every aspect of his life. Aemond is careful, calculated, and you see this in the mirrors added, an extension and a reminder to his half vision; he always turns his head fully to check before a lane change, and this allows him a moment to look at you. 
And you are looking back, ever watchful, ever aware of him. In this moment, the blue lumination from the dash gives an iridescent shimmer to the sapphire stone set in his scarred socket, an ethereal glow to the sharp contours of his face.
You feel the warmth return to your cheeks when you see the curl of his lips into a smile that only belongs to you. 
“Do you trust me?” the low timbre of his voice asks. 
And you do, with everything you have to offer, with every molecule wrapped within you thrumming with a loyalty that began from the moment you met. You remember the play of his perpetual smirk, both inviting and enticing, and what you felt bloom with the first kiss shared, sparked from the touch of his soft lips against your own. It is a feeling that grows still, a sense of comfort and safety with his intimate touches, igniting something that you were not aware existed within your heart. 
You keep this to yourself though, and hum your acknowledgement, your grin gleeful. “Where you go, I go,” you remind him. 
He does not turn homewards, but instead his long fingers curl around the wheel to rotate, to follow the vacant weave of road lit by his headlights and the settling nightglow. Aemond looks forward and you can see the dimples that line his cheek; only after he settles into gear does he reach for your hand, bringing it up to his lips for a gentle kiss and nestles the hold onto his thigh. 
Your fingers curl around in response, a perfect fit. 
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arcie’s masterlist
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i love lane she is my baby so. instead in my mind lane escapes stars hollow to live in nyc on her own at nineteen and the city is huge and intimidating and she has to share an apartment with like three guys but its okay because she has her own room and there's this shelf right in the middle of her wall and she's got all of her CDs and records spilling out right there in the open and she's got posters of nico and bjorke and bowie and fiona apple scattered around her walls and she works in like a music shop during the day and bartends at night and rory comes to stay with her sometimes and they spend hours sitting in parks and talking even when its really cold and rory doesn't say anything when lane tenses up sometimes and lane doesn't say anything when rory looks out beyond her like she's waiting for someone. and then she becomes the drummer in a punk band and they get to play in CBGB and then they're invited to go on tour and they're playing in venues all across the country and lane's laughing again and she's talking to people and she's kissing girls. and then one night she's playing out in California and out in the crowd she spots someone familiar and he's smiling at her and she's smiling back and after he asks her if she'd like a drink and she says yes. and maybe it'll go somewhere maybe it won't but there's hope in the air and it's all going to be okay because she's got purple in her hair and she can talk as loudly as she wants.
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novlr · 3 months
Note
What are some ways to describe summer ?
Summer is not just a season; it’s a vibrant setting that can add life and color to your writing. Whether you’re crafting a sun-soaked romance or a beach thriller, the way you describe summer can immerse readers in your story. Let’s dive into how you can capture the essence of summer, focusing on the various senses and elements that make this season unique.
Sights
Sunsets that paint the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.
Children chasing ice cream trucks down suburban lanes.
Sunbathers dotting the coastline.
Sprinklers casting rainbows across freshly mowed lawns.
Flower gardens in full bloom, a riot of colours.
Sunglasses showing reflections of the bright world.
Sun hats and flip-flops scattered around pool decks.
Fireflies illuminating the night.
Street markets bustling with locals buying fresh produce.
Hikers on forest trails.
Sounds
The cacophony of cicadas in the late afternoon.
Waves crashing against the shore in a constant rhythm.
The sizzle and pop of barbecues in backyards.
Children’s laughter as they play outside.
Ice clinking in glasses of lemonade or cocktails.
The distant whirr of lawn mowers.
Splashes and shouts from swimming pools.
Chirping songbirds greeting the morning.
The crackle of bonfires during cool summer nights.
The melodic chimes of ice cream trucks roaming the streets.
Smells
The salty tang of sea air at the beach.
The overpowering scent of chlorinated pools.
Freshly cut grass after morning lawn care.
The scent of sunscreen and tanning oils on warm skin.
The smoky aroma of grills at a neighborhood cookout or family barbeque.
Fragrant blossoms like jasmine and roses in full bloom.
The earthy smell of rain on hot pavement.
The mix of fruits, vegetables, fried food, and flowers at an open-air market.
Melting tar with an accompanying heat shimmer on hot roads.
Campfire smoke clinging to clothes and hair during outdoor adventures.
Activities
Beach volleyball games, sand flying as players dive for the ball.
Leisurely picnics in the shade of ancient trees.
Hiking trips taking advantage of the long daylight hours.
Sailing and boating, the wind filling sails on sunlit waters.
Outdoor concerts, where music floats on the warm night air.
Road trips with car windows down, hair whipping in the wind.
Fruit picking in orchards and berry farms.
Camping under the stars, a tent and a sleeping bag for a home.
Water fights with hoses, water guns, and balloons.
Attending summer festivals full of food, music, and dance.
Character body language
Wiping sweat from the brow or fanning themselves to cool down.
Squinting against the harsh sunlight or seeking out spots of shade.
Sipping cold drinks, or gulping down water.
Lounging lazily, limbs relaxed and sprawled out.
Applying sunscreen meticulously.
Adjusting sunglasses or hats for better protection.
Dipping toes tentatively into the sea or a pool.
Tugging at clothes sticking to sweat-dampened skin.
Laughing with carefree abandon, a reflection of summer’s ease.
Turning pages of a paperback with fingers damp from pool water.
Positive descriptions
The liberating feeling of diving into cool water on a scorching day.
The tranquil peace of a sunrise beach yoga session.
The simple pleasure of ice cream melting on the tongue.
The bliss of a hammock nap swayed by a gentle breeze.
The joy of endless blue skies promising adventure.
The warmth of sun-kissed skin after a day outdoors.
The satisfaction of a well-tended garden coming to life.
The contentment of sharing a sunset with loved ones.
The thrill of catching the perfect wave while surfing.
The comfort of balmy evenings spent on porch swings.
Negative descriptions
The oppressive heat making the air feel thick and suffocating.
The relentless buzzing of mosquitoes on a muggy night.
The sting of sunburn after a day of neglecting sunscreen.
The frustration of packed tourist spots and overcrowded beaches.
The exhaustion induced by long days and sweltering heat.
The discomfort of air thick with humidity.
The annoyance of sand finding its way into every nook and cranny.
The disappointment of a rained-out picnic or canceled event.
The lethargy of a heatwave, energy sapped by the relentless sun.
The discomfort of trying to sleep in an overheated, uncooled room.
Helpful Adjectives
Scorching
Balmy
Sultry
Languid
Radiant
Dazzling
Parched
Breezy
Rippling
Sweltering
Sunny
Lush
Blistering
Tropical
Vibrant
Humid
Verdant
Golden
Glowing
Fragrant
Torrid
Tranquil
Crisp
Sizzling
Flaming
Steamy
Refreshing
Shimmering
Lazy
Stifling
Invigorating
Sparkling
Zesty
Fervent
Stuffy
Arid
Saturated
Juicy
Sunbaked
Fetid
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