#its so STUPID stop it with the back and forth

[hiemaldesirae]

Thorn here: that's fucking hilarious that Vox is SOO proud on how his fucking cat KILLED 3-4 of his ppl and then MAIMED more of em he literally told ALL of HELL. I'm DYING.

Lucifer: *looking *directly at Alastor.* "It figures the only guy interested in you could tame THAT beast. Of course he'd be an animal person."

Husk: *chokes on his drink.*

more cat drabbles it is. go forth pathetic little orphaned child and the rest of you freaks (/aff). feast

"No, okay, I fucking *get* it, Populis--" Vox puts a hand to his forehead as the door opens behind him, suppressing another sigh as he turns around to greet Velvette, the doll sinner raising an eyebrow in an unimpressed manner as she watches him fumble with his phone. "Look, I'll get back to you later. Velvette. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"Not even trying to keep up the act anymore, are you?" Velvette crosses her arms as she enters the room, releasing the fluffball of red fur in her arms to let him run to Vox, the Media Overlord immediately scooping Venom up the moment he gets close enough. "Val and I can only do so much, you know. Belle's been running damage control for days now, and she doesn't know how much longer she can keep it up without organic photos."

"Don't even start with me on that. Dei and Lis have been all up my asshole about it enough, I don't need you guys too," Vox grumbles. "Listen, Vel, I'll get back to business *soon*. Really, I will. I just need to figure out what the fuck Alastor is playing at this time."

"Just tune him out! What's the fucking point of listening to a thing that bastard has to say?" Velvette throws her hands up in her air in exasperation, "I mean, come the fuck on, Vox- it's not like he's some sort of demented ex trying to get your attention back or something! It's just your stupid, crazed rival who rejected you *once* a few years back because he's got no taste."

Vox frowns down at Venom, who simply cuddles into his arm and purrs. The tension drains from his posture as he watches the kitten rub up to him, letting his shoulders slump as the little ball of fluff curls up closer into his chest. "It's not... like that, Vel."

"Then what the hell is it? I mean, you and Val are always acting so secretive about your past with the Radio Freak-- you can't expect me to be able to stay in the loop with all that when you two are acting like this, right?"

"He's just taunting me again," Vox murmurs. "He does that sometimes. You know, there was that one time after he left, seven years ago... the frequency from his end turned on. When I tried to tune in, the only thing on the other end was laughing. I wanted to ask him how he was doing, but..."

"So... what, he likes to taunt you by destroying full blocks of buildings?"

"Something like that," Vox shrugs. "Just... it's fine. It'll all go back to normal once he grows bored of doing it or whatever, and then we can go back to normal again."

"If you say so," Velvette frowns. It's clear she doesn't believe him, but she doesn't press further-- a discretion that Vox is grateful for. He runs his hand over Venom's soft fur as Velvette exits the room, being careful not to scratch the little cat with his sharp claws.

Sighing, he looks down at the cat still laid on his chest, cheek smushed against his torso. "What do you think I should do about your freaky doppleganger, hm?"

The cat looks up at him and simply meows, looking up at him with its large eyes.

"Yeah, okay, I don't know what I was thinking asking that," Vox snorts. "I'll just... wait it out."

"Okay, Smiles, seriously, what the *fuck* are you doing?!" Angel bursts into the main lobby with an angry look on his face, something unusual for the porn star. "The Vees Tower has been on complete lockdown for like, a week now! I've got fuckin' bills to pay, drugs ta' buy! Stop being a fuckin' freak so I can go and get my paycheck!"

Alastor's eye twitches from where he sits hunched over the small shrine, complete with several dismembered plushies of that damned fucking cat.

All this, and Vox still wasn't acknowledging any of his attempts to get his attention. And that fucking cat... at this point, perhaps he would just have to break into Vox's tower himself.

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #cursed cat alastor

[carrotkicks]

Did anyone else think that the dragon fight in Dead Apple mirrors the final fight in Storm Bringer. Bc I JUST noticed and I hate it.

In Dead Apple, Dazai gets caught in the crossfire and is floating around in the giant singularity that's threatening to destroy Yokohama and everyone thinks he's dead except Chuuya who's got the unshakable belief that Dazai is still alive because a Roach like him cannot die, and straight up throws his life down for that slightest chance.

And in Storm Bringer its CHUUYA who's mostly likely dead and floating around inside the giant singularity monster that's threatening to destroy Yokohama and Dazai thinks Chuuya is likely dead but he's easily goaded into taking action by Mori because if he lets himself die right now like he wants to, that means he effectively double suicided with Chuuya and that is the Worst Possible Outcome(tm) so OF COURSE he has to go save him.

And there's also the fact that both scenes feature Chuuya fighting an enormous Kaijuu beast single handedly and slaying heavily while doing it.

#bsd #dazai #chuuya #both these light novels also feature a gay ass scene where dazai cradles chuuya's passed out body and its like. its too much #these guys are so homosexual its almost sickening #JUST ADMIT YOU CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER #DAMN #chuuya: i'm willing to die for you in order to save you so you can save me #dazai: i'm willing to live for you in order to save you so you can save me so i can save you #its so STUPID stop it with the back and forth #dead apple #stormbringer #meta i guess?

[mewtwo24]

I just started reading the svsss volumes (and re-read them again because A LOT IS GOING ON) but like. This shit is so hysterically funny I don't even know where to begin.

Was no one????? Going to tell me that one of the cornerstone jokes in the damn series is that lbh's adoration for his one and only 'tism person who literally cannot express his emotions to save his life is basically genetic?????????

Was no one???? No one AT ALL going to tell me that Mobei-Jun straight up yeets Airplane at the problem in one of the scenes?????? And that in the most hilarious twist of fate Airplane then unyeets Mobei-Jun not twenty minutes later?????

It's one thing to see people joke about sqq and lbh being unable to communicate but it's on a league of its own when you have to read HUNDREDS OF PAGES of sqq's inner monologue be like 'that's my darling boy. my baby. my sugar plum pumpy umpkin you're my sweetie pie' but on the outside he says "get lost binghe" and somehow deems that an effective expression of his affection that lbh will surely understand. 'Why is lbh whining and crying and tugging at my sleeve like a plaintive wife, why is he so angry?' Sqq asks, the entire circus, as lbh is about to fling himself off a cliff for attention--

In short, MXTX is the queer comedian of our generation and nobody appreciates her enough

#svsss #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #mxtx what must it be like to carry the gays on your shoulders like this #she ran so that the rest of us could walk oh my actual god #i just can't get over how much of the novels are sqq panicking because he needs to 'do right' by lbh #aka make lbh the absolute lunatic from the original #so its just this uproarious back and forth between a guy trying to make a bbg desperate for his love into a human weapon #AND make himself disappear before that weapon is turned on him (also probably the self-hatred talking) #amazing showstopping spectacular **slaps sqq's back** you can fit so many repressed internalizations of toxic masculinity in this mf #legit as i read these volumes i just kept thinking of that meme like 'congrats sqq buddy that's the worst anyone's ever done it' (joke) #not that lbh is any better but in fairness the lad is going through a lot too so i spare him too harsh a judgement #also sincerely i dont think i was prepared for just how stupid how crazy lbh goes for sqq. it was. MAGNIFICENT #I was like 'surely he isn't that dramatic' and then by god everyone. by god I started reading and went #'jesus christ that's a nuclear missile shaped little meow meow and that's HILARIOUS' #i also just can't get over sqq insisting 'IM NOT GAY. I DONT GAY. IM THE STRAIGHTEST STRAIGHT!!!!' #while. literally. saying full stop to lbh of like 'wym i smile more genuinely at everyone else they're just scarecrows around me' #sqq--the man who couldn't bear to see lbh suffering as a young boy. #who was so affected he was crying in his sleep and calling out lbh's name over and over #ON WHAT LEVEL IS THAT HETEROSEXUAL SQQ. THE JIG IS UP #literally EVERYONE around sqq being like 'congrats on being the last to know' about his love for lbh #and can we talk about sqq being like 'we used to communicate so seamlessly that we had no need for words. there was no greater joy for me.' #and highlighting that though gongyi xiao was a similar and talented young lad he fell decidedly short because he did not have above quality #and then sqq still being in denial; i swear i LOVE the little hints mxtx drops i feel like the happiest mouse scampering around for crumbs #additionally a question: how does anyone take liu qingge seriously #when he's displeased he just yells 'HEY' and does nothing about it (most times) #that is the most boomer dad energy i think i've ever seen #also :(((((((( all the jokes about tianlang-jun (though accurate) were so deceptive my heart was broken at the end of vol.3

[alltheglowingeyess]

the way ppl approach discourse on twitter is crazy 😭 like i'm halfway through arguing in circles w someone who disagreed with a lote take i posted and i just told them "i don't care to argue anymore" JGDJD

#like bro i'm not about to spend two hours going back and forth w u and let u get away with being rude asf #if nothing constructive is coming from this convo then i say i respect ur opinion but stop talking to me pls #lowk tho i forget that ppl actually see my tweets like oops 😭😭 #this is why i used to prefer tumblr bc i swear down i've never had to deal w so much going on at once just bc someone didn't like my take #like i think the whole comment system on twt and the way its structured just makes it a breeding ground for stupid arguments idk how to #descrive it fully #anyways tho imma hold off on posting my tumblr there for a few days bc i honestly dk uf i still wanna #i like having my tumblr as a little ranting space now where i'm not perceived :3

[dennisboobs]

this is genuinely... so funny to me. like the hilarity of copypasting rational tweets. i'm literally right. it's not even a funny copypasta because it's literally just. objectively correct. it's a criticism of twitter culture and that makes it funny to you because...... god forbid you actually have empathy for other people. caring is for losers if you're on twitter dot com, you have to be snarky and funny at all times.

#moots & friends keep sending me shit and im just like. lmfao this is embarrassing for YOU guys. i stand by everything ive said actually. #i'm sorry you think trying to have a genuine conversation about harmful behaviours is cringe #you consider yourself an activist and will retweet every fucking post abt current events #but you can't actually be bothered to make a positive change in your own life......... #the fact that most of them stop responding after they realize im not going to freak out and give them something emotional is very telling #it's not even like most of them disagree they literally just want to make fun of me for...... caring. like ok. weird hill to die on idk #im at the point where im considering privating my tweets just so i dont continue to get ppl responding but #i think its important that ppl can see my responses. because i stand by them and clearly other ppl do too #theres been a lot of mixed responses but a lot of people have actually ended up agreeing with me after some back and forth #which i appreciate. i didnt want to start fuckin. twitter drama. but like. ill take it #i dont interact with sunnyblr at all so i think this is a good opportunity to potentially change at least a few ppls perspectives #and if youre too far gone to the point where you think that someone caring about perpetuating homophobic rhetoric is funny #i. dont really want to interact with you anyway lol. get better soon xoxo #last post about this on here im. putting this to rest. #ada speaks #genuinely disgusting how many of these ppl will say shit like. ppl are dying. like... yeah. what are YOU doing to help. #retweeting a donation link or someones random carrd doesnt do shit actually. performative armchair activism. #same ppl tweeting vapid shit while acting like theyre above engaging with me on this #i was venting about people qrting glenns old tweets with stupid shit because it was clogging my tl actually lol

[iratusmus]

what is one peice.is it like. a bathing suit. insert panel where sally acorn is cutting up film reels here

one piece is the best selling manga of all time and it damn well deserves it

#im not sure if you meant this as a dumb joke or a genuine question but im going to answer it seriously anyways #bc if you give me the chance to talk about this series i fr will never shut up about it #im going to sum it up as best as i can given that its a 1000+ chapter ongoing manga but Basically #one piece is a long running shounen manga about friendship and freedom and adventure. and also pirates #the mc is a guy named monkey d. luffy who gets rubber hose animation style powers as a kid and wants to find the One Piece #there are many very stupid and very serious shenanigans #the humor can only be described as wildly stupid but lord its so terribly funny #and the tone of the store oscillates back and forth between #''genuinely who hurt you author . why did you feel the need to rip my heart out and stomp on it and then tear it to pieces'' #and #''real question wtf am i reading (but in the stupidest funniest possible way)'' #but not in a way thats jarring or try hard edgy #the main cast is... spectacular. like theyre so well done and such great enjoyable characters and their dynamics are just DELIGHTFUL #the mc is probably my most favorite mc of all time #the worldbuilding is insanely good and so extremely fun and flexible #there is a massive and sprawling cast but they are juggled so well and when you stop to think abt how many moving parts there are #esp in the later arcs. its like. real question author why are you so good at this #and most shockingly of all i think. is that after 25 years there is no series decay. the most recent arc is one of my most favorites #regardless if youre interested in checking it out rn is literally the best time because we're on a month long break (2 weeks in) #if you need a site i have one. also dont watch the anime unless you really just dont like reading manga bc the pacing is ABYSMAL #ask #scatman-world #also it would be SO absurdly easy to make an archie sonic crossover with it. like. so so easy. #one day ill run into somebody who likes archie and op and then we can talk about judge and locke basically being the same guy #but until then

[traaanskimkitsuragi]

sometimes i take on a hobby thats meant to be relaxing but then i end up building a strict schedule around it bc im a fucking idiot and then i stress about it to a point where ill give myself a full on panic attack bc im not progressing as fast in the thing as i wanted to progress in it and the 32719832 different ideas i want to do with it are overwhelming me all at once and then i take a step back and procrastinate until my brain stops panicking and it magically resets me to normal

#i think years ago i read a really good post or article about how avoiding your phobias makes them worse #bc ur reinforcing ur brains stress response #and that is very applicable to me and stupid workaholic brain #when i get passionate abt smth it causes me to devote all of my free time to that One Thing #until i inevitably burn out and stop enjoying the thing #so recently ive been trying to combat it by procrastinating when i feel anxious #and only working when i dont feel rushed anymore #and its really hard bc like. im still having to sit there extremely stressed out #but while its more painful in the short term its much nicer long term wise #hello this post has been inspired by me stressing abt not being able to do 50 fic chapters at once #i started that fic specifically FOR myself to give myself smth i could focus on/look forward to #and ive gone back and forth on whether or not i wanna upload it bc its so sloppy #specifically bc im being v loosey goosey and self indulgent on purpose #and while i was looking at my notes for it my brain started panicking at all the things i still want to write for it #and i freaked myself out rlly bad dsjhjdkshdjks im still v stressed over it tbh #but im gonna force myself to take some time away from it until my brain calms down #i have literally zero deadlines or any grand plans for it so i really dont want it to become another source of stress for me

[joyalrelly]

≠

#decluttering #another decluttering entry? in this economy. so thing is ive been feeling extra tired and a little bit sad and unmotivated. #my mind is blank and idk . thats rhe thing iDK. i just realized ive been oike this for almost ten days #like wut. the other day i was thinking about death again and about the . wouldn't it be nice to rest. and its scary #its si scary to habe those thoughts again and more so after all the effort and work and medication. i dint want things to be like this #to go back and forth amd back and forth. i hate this being a cycle. is not as bad as it used to be. while i dont remember much id like to #think is not as bad. but i dont know. i guess since i haven't beem crying and physically anxious.then is not tje same #but it feels like it comes from thw same place and its scary. how do i deal with this. i am worried. #also i got diagnosed witj adhd not so long ago lol. thats so stupid. and yet #i want to cry. just a little bit. just out of frustration. i want to rest. i wamt to stop thinking. #i want to live. and i want to feel owner of my thoughts and brain and feelings and present. #some times i think about death again. akd its scary.

[spinobsessed]

We agree Marceline should know better right. She's painting this in such a bad light shame on her, some would say "lipstick on a pig is still a pig" but we all know that doesnt apply here because Marceline is attention seeking

#tw: sa mention #stupid Marceline #her mom told her once she looked disturbed when she rocked back and forth #stop being so autistic Marceline #its not funny #she needs a person to say something she needs words not AI REAL words #just shut up Marceline #I hate you

[lateassignment]

#this is JUST like supernatural #this will get better! #why do people lie to me? #lying to me is illegal #i dont want to be a girl anymore #but i hate being trans so much #like i literally want to die thinking about it #and i still like the option of going back and forth #but i feel so stupid snd restless #i want to just. have a gender. i have a completely not #i wish i could trust the people around me. i literally feel like i can trust anyone #and my brain says i need to try and i know i need to try but i dont want to. i want this to all disappear i want to be free. i want #people to stop denying that this is fucking hard. i know i have a goid life i have food and a place to sleep and a pretty house and clothes #and im so thankful ive always been fucking thankful #ive been thankful my entire fucking life i was never allowed to be anything but thankful #and so maybe you shoukd ket me fucking acknowledge it and maybe since this is YOUR fucking faukt you shoukd fucking fix it. #do fucking SOMETHING other than tey and make me feel fucking worse #other than telling me im not worth anything but i guess its fucking working #i could beg on my hands and knees #i could beg for hours and hours and you would never change #you would always choose to keep me here and #you would keep him in your life because he has money #and you keep him in your life because you cant stand to believe her #and you cant stand the fact that you may have hurt me when youve actually known #and your actions that make the least sense #and i made it funny. i just wanted it to be funny #so i made the joke on m #e #i just want to be comfortable and i am there are so many people who have ot worse #i dont understand why im crying

[snekdood]

if you do this kinda shit to your cat you suck so fundamentally as a human being

#dont come to me telling me anything about how im bad when i sometimes yell at my cat when some of yall treat them like literal objects #like some of yall genuinely only see them as something to give YOU happiness rather than ever thinkwhat makes them happy #but whatever #im sure im just *being too dramatic* or whatever. #yknow. caring about animals. #yall have no respect for your animals #hope she bit you after that #inb4 'my cat never gets upset with me when i treat them like an object for my own self satisfaction!!' #yeah probably bc it realized it had no power in the situation to stop you and also realized you weren't gonna extend #sympathy in the way it needed or wanted so it gave up #like sometimes i see someones cat desperately pleading with them to be treated a certain way #and the ppl just act stupid like they dont know. and the worst part is they probably fuckin dont! #bc basic respect for the animal kingdom is not often taught to humans. #like your cat grew up around you. is used to you and your bullshit. its gonna think the way you mistreat it is normal. #but think deeply inside about it actually- like- detach from the fact you're hearing this from me and hate me- #GENUINELY think about it if you REALLY think its cool and normal to be this way around your animals #bc i promise that tail wagging back and forth isnt excitement. your cat is so fed up with you but cant stop you from anything #and yes you know who tf you are. stacking your fucking rocks on your cat waiting to see how many it take for her to get annoyed. #eat bags of shit. #theres a reason your cat liked being around me so much 🥴

[moonbeamwritings]

"I hate you.”

The statement comes as Satoru leans against your door frame, your hand pressed to his shoulder as you try to get him to leave — to be on time for his train, for anything, just this once. It's a losing battle, trying to kick the lanky, lovesick sorcerer out of your apartment. He hovers in your doorway and lures you in with charming smirks and sweet little kisses. Just one more, he promises, all cheshire grinned and rosy cheeked, one more and then he'll finally go. And then one more turns into two turns into three.

“Oh yeah?”

You poise your hands on your hips. “Yeah.”

Without wasting a second, he takes your chin between his fingers, thumb ghosting along your bottom lip. His other hand curls around your waist. "Care to explain why?"

“You just-” You scoff, scrunching your nose in frustration, and when Satoru can’t stop the gooey smile from growing on his face, you rush to take his face into your palms, the pads of your thumbs resting in the curve of his dimples. “These. I hate these.”

“What?” A chuckle forces its way from Satoru’s throat, clipping his words as his skin warms. His hand abandons your chin in favor of finding purchase around your wrist, his thumb skimming your pulse point as it goes. “Use your words, angel.”

You groan, eyes rolling. “Your stupid smile and your stupid dimples. I hate them and I hate you. I just wanna-” And then, as if a switch suddenly flips, your gentle touch morphs into a pinch and then a squeeze, and suddenly Satoru’s cheeks are positively squished. 

“Whe- Hey. Ow, o- Baby-”

It’s not your fault, you think. It’s not your fault he’s so handsome, so damn near perfect it makes your knees weak. You’re not responsible for any acts of violent cute aggression, honest. And besides, if his little huffs and giggles are anything to go by, Satoru loves the attention – as usual.

"You–" you shake his head in your hold like a dog attacks a chew toy, "drive me crazy."

With bright eyes and puckered lips, Satoru asserts, "But you love me."

You let out an exaggerated sigh, like admitting what you both already know to be true is such a bother, but your hold on his cheeks softens just as your frustration melts into a shy smile. "I do."

Satoru's nose brushes yours and you can feel him press a smirk against your lips, his voice just above a whisper as he teases, "I knew it."

He kisses you then, stealing the breath from your lungs just as he did before this whole back and forth began. And when he pulls away, you can't help but remind him, "You're gonna miss your train."

Satoru guides you back into your apartment, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He pulls you close again. "I'll catch the next one."

#hiiii everyone #i promise im gonna write more :)) #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #gojo x reader fluff #jjk fluff

[werecreature-addicted]

Hi!! I love your blog so much omg! I havent been able to stop thinking about a cute little puppygirl (human petplay type thing going on) begging her werewolf mate to breed her and fill her with his pups. The thought of being stuffed full and rounded out with pups gets me so hot and bothered askshs, like,,, imagine how well he would care for his pregnant mate!! Her tits are sore and swollen so he suckles to relieve them, her back is aching from the weight of her enormous tummy, he knows exactly how much strength to use in a massage. Its just so,,, ughhhh its so hot,,,, He definitely finds it both amusing and attractive that sometimes she acts more like a dog than he does

Im just puppygirl trash rn 🫠

Your legs tremble as your werewolf lover takes you from behind, his clawed hands dig into your hips as he pulls your ass back and forth fucking you down on his thick, knotted cock.

"Say it again," he snarls, digging his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. it takes you a moment to formulate your broken moans into words.

"I- give me your puppies," you moan again. The monster behind you growls and snaps his hips forward locking his knot inside of you and letting himself go inside of you. Just because he's cum doesn't mean he's done with you.

He starts pulling on your tail plug, fucking your ass with the toy. "go on puppy bark for me, cum on my knot like a good bitch," he orders. You bark weakly, as he fucks you. you feel so full with his cock in your pussy and the big metal plug in your ass. A clawed finger reaches between your legs and plays with your clit forcing you to cum.

"Such a good Knot whore, you're going to look so cute fat with my puppies," he cooed, his deep gravely voice softer now. You try to mumble back a response but you're so fucked stupid you can't really speak.

"shh shh, don't worry about talking. Puppies don't need to talk anyway."

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #werewolves #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf smut

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

...

Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.

He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.

And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.

Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.

Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???

Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.

Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.

Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.

Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.

...

Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.

The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...

"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.

"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.

"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."

"Tim Drake? As in-"

"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."

"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.

"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?

"How did you... Why?"

"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.

The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.

....

Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???

He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.

"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.

"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.

"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."

"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.

Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.

"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."

He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.

"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"

"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.

...

Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.

"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.

"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.

"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.

"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #tim and danny are twins #twins au #ehehehe could go in so many directions

[svuguru]

step dad nanami fucking his step daughter in her school uniform >o<

Tags: stepcest!!! Antis and minors DNI! Unprotected and it’s implied (heavily) he finishes inside <3 I tried to be more inclusive of the uniform :( fucking in front of the mirror ^^ I don’t remember which position it was but I think it was doggy?? 😭

Kento’s hands hold a firm grip on your hips, thrusting his hips back and forth as gasps fall from your pretty glossed lips. Your little school skirt is thrown over your waist, but it’s just a bit too short he was sure you must have gotten dress coded… it barely reached just above your knees, there’s no way no one called it out.

The moment you walked through the door after coming home from school, Kento’s pants grew tighter for whatever reason. Just the way your skirt would flow along with your legs, when you would bend over and teasing him with that slight peek of your cute pink panties… it was too much for your poor stepdad, how could you tease him so much?

“Wah, Daddy!” You cry, clenching onto the messed up bedsheets underneath you. Kento’s thankful your mother is still at work, blissfully unaware of the way his thick cock is stuffing your tiny hole full, so deep in front of the mirror so he could watch the way your little body moves in your school uniform.

“Shh, sweet girl, I know,” he murmurs softly, looking down at your back hidden by your uniform shirt. You’re just too cute in your uniform, so irresistible, and the way your lips stuck in a pout, whining about needing him and all… how could he deny his pretty little stepdaughter of something he knows they both want?

“S’deep, daddy…” you mumble dumbly, stupid on his cock as your juices coat his dick. You look so cute full of his girth, tears in your eyes, crying incoherent sentences.

“Yeah?” Kento laughs, “look, you’re so tiny,” he says affectionately, his hand carefully trailing up to your chest, his fingers teasing your hardened nipples, pulling and twisting at them which elicits moans and whimpers from your throat.

Your tits jiggle at the way he’s fucking his cock into you, one big hand cupping your boob, the other keeping its hold on your hips, moving you back and forth along with him.

“‘M not that small…” you pout before feeling his tip tease your sweet spot. Your jaw goes slack, your eyes roll to the back of your head before the squeeze shut. “S’much, daddy, too much!” You cry and squirm, feeling knots tie in your poor tummy, your legs twitching.

Kento’s hand moves from your tit to your ass, rubbing it gently before landing an unexpected slap to it, his eyes glued to the way you jump slightly from it.

“Poor baby,” he grins, “you can take it, yeah? I know you can, be a big girl,” eager to please your step daddy, you nod, biting back a sob, tears falling from your lash line, down the flushed apple of your cheeks.

His hips are slamming harshly against your ass, bouncing at the impact. Your skirt falls from the waistband back down to its original place, which earns a grunt from Kento.

“Shit… such a pretty girl,” his voice is deep and low, your walls clenching his dick, feelings his veins throb against your warmth.

“Daddy, think ‘m gonna cum!” Your fingers squeeze the bedsheets, grounding yourself to earth. In response to your whine, Kento groans and nods his head.

“Come on, you can do it,” he encourages you, “do it f’me, like a good girl,” and suddenly the knot in your stomach unties itself, all you see is stars everywhere you look, all around the room. Kento’s hips don’t stop even as you’re coming undone, painting his dick in your juices. “That’s my baby, hm?”

It’s only a few more thrusts before Kento’s hips begin to stutter, his breath gradually growing uneven. “Princess,” he sighs, “‘m gonna stuff you full, ‘Kay? Is that alright?” So dumb on your stepdad’s cock, you nod your head, mumbling a barely coherent “mkay, daddy,” as your head buried itself in the sheets.

Kento knows it’s wrong as he fucks harder into you, he knows it’s awful to do this with his stepdaughter, but you’re just too cute to resist..

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #Kento Nanami x reader #Nanami Kento x reader #Nanami Kento smut #Kento Nanami smut #Nanami smut #Nanami x reader smut #Nanami Kento x reader smut #Kento Nanami x reader smut

[buryustogether]

lilac - chapter 5

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: finally, you’re completely, and utterly, alone. but not for long.

wc: 5.2k

tags/warnings: domestic dispute, throwing objects, swearing, breakup, displacement, tooth-rotting fluff

author’s note: seatbelts on please

What woke you the next morning was not heavy, thick arms leaden with muscles, or kisses pressed to your temple with full lips that were curved up into a gentle, tired smile, but rather the alarming buzz of your phone right beside your head. Your eyes opened to stare at the little black box sitting on your pillow inches from your face, the screen bright with an alert that commanded your attention. Grumbling into the pillow and throwing your leg over the empty space beside you, not giving much attention to the fact that your boyfriend should have been there, you grabbed blindly at the phone and brought it to your face.

What you saw pulled you straight from whatever bleariness held you captive.

News stations, shaky cell phone footage, helicopter captures - they all showed the same thing all across every social platform available. An apartment building in Brooklyn had been… well. You didn’t quite know what to call it. Neither did anyone else. The structure of the building had been changed entirely, the very foundation rocked to its core. Floors had been tilted sideways in gravity-defying angles, graffiti no one could decipher had been sprayed and inked along its uneven walls. And to everyone’s horror, the walls and windows and roof seemed to all be glitching, like a television caught between channels. It shook and jumped when officials came too close, threatening to move by itself again and swallow them whole.

No one knew quite what to do. They were calling it a feat of a new villain, the work of a molecular mastermind.

You tapped a news coverage of the strange building, now wide awake and all the sleep cleared from your eyes. The video began to load, that gray little circle swirling around and around… before your phone died and the screen went black.

Releasing a long, growl-like groan of exasperation, you angrily clawed at your charger and plugged your phone in. You tossed off your covers and rubbed at your eye with the palm of your hand, attempting to run through your day. It was some minor holiday - you couldn’t remember which - so school was out, and you had today off from the club, so you were free to do as you wished.

Well, as you sort of wished. Grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing laundry… since god knew Ferris didn’t do any of it.

Your attention was drawn to the front room of the apartment when you heard the door open and closed, followed by a pair of voices. One, you recognized. The other, you did not. Following the soft murmurs and laughter into the main room, you found Ferris and his new keyboard player leaning against the kitchen counter, passing your jug of milk back and forth between them. The girl spotted you standing in the doorway first, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you watching them like a predator who had cornered two rabbits who were too stupid to be paying attention. She set the jug down on the counter and plastered on a small smile.

“Hi,” she said and waved a hand in your direction.

Ferris glanced up, following her gaze, and almost seemed to stop himself from jumping when he caught your slitted eyes watching him. He reached up to wipe at his lip with his sleeve, clearing his throat. “Hey, babe,” he said, but there was no kind of affection in his tone. It was all guilt and regret for being caught in what he seemed to think was a furtive meet up with his new fucking keyboard player.

As you stared at the two, as you stared at your half-emptied jug of milk sitting on the counter, you felt your chest tightening more and more until there was hardly any room left for you to breathe. Your blood was frozen in your veins, flooding your body with a chilly kind of fire. Every single fiber of your being was alight, fueling the fire that had sparked to life in your chest.

A part of you wanted to play dumb. A part of you wanted to pretend you had no idea what this was, go along with whatever kind of game he was playing because, if you didn’t, you’d be alone.

But that other part of you, that bigger, hulking, furious part of you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t play this part any longer, couldn’t memorize this script while you were also the one writing it and directing the whole show. This stupid fucking costume didn’t fit anymore. The stage wasn’t set any longer.

The show was fucking over.

Like she was sensing the oncoming storm brewing in your home, the girl shuffled on her feet toward the door. “I think I’ll just show myself out,” she said. She started to say goodbye to your boyfriend, beginning to raise a hand, before she caught the dangerous gleam in your eye and slipped out without another word.

As soon as she left, you crossed the room into the kitchen. Ferris regarded you with an unreadable expression. You thought that, maybe, a bit of that furrowed brow was guilt. Fear. You liked the idea of him being afraid of you. But you didn’t allow yourself to indulge in such a thought. For now, all that you could think of was this rage building and building in your throat. That - and the fucking dishes in the sink.

A couple of plates, a few spoons, and a fork. Stuck for days in this porcelain bowl while the dishes in the washer got themselves dirty again.

All this time. All this… effort. And for what? Nothing but a couple dishes left in the sink and this fire growing in your belly.

From behind you, Ferris shuffled himself awkwardly and swallowed thick. “I, uh… I thought you’d already left for work.”

You pursed your lips, feeling tears prod at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the faucet. Silently, you took the deepest breath you could, brought up every ounce of courage that you found within yourself.

You didn’t care if you were going to be alone anymore. You just wanted this to be over.

“I am so fucking done with you.”

For a long, long while, there was only the sound of silence in your apartment. Downstairs a few flights, a dog barked madly. Outside, car horns blared. Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing with it the promise of pouring rain and lightning that would light the sky alight with a fire unmatched.

Ferris said, “What?”

“I said - “ You reached into the skin and grabbed one of the plates, your fingers dipping into the water gathered at the bottom, then spun around on your heel and launched it directly at his head. “I’M DONE WITH YOU!”

He just barely dodged the projectile, his gaze swinging around with it as it sailed through the air and shattered into thousands of pieces against the wall. They scattered like bullet casings, twisting about your bare feet.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouted, lifting a foot to stare at the pieces. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You picked your way across the tile floor, tiptoeing around the glinting shards, then jumped into the hallway and stormed back toward the bedroom. As you threw the door open all the way, surely leaving a dent in your wall, you heard him following you.

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t give a fuck.

As rain droplets began to tick against your windows, you heaved the closet door open, grabbed a pile of his clothes from his side, and tossed them out onto the floor. A number of his shoes followed, dropping limply to the hardwood as you continued to scrounge for more of his belongings.

Ferris grabbed onto the door frame as he came to a stop before you, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as you emptied your closet of his things. “Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Once you were satisfied you’d gotten everything from the closest, you stalked over to his side of the bed and began to rip everything out of its place. His phone charger, his nightstand trinkets, everything that looked and smelled and seemed like him.

His hand came from behind to grab your shoulder, and before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself around and smacked him hard across the face. Before he had a chance to react, to even raise a hand to his cheek, you felt tears spill down your cheeks as you yelled, “Get out! I want you out!”

“Oh, come on, nothing was going to happen -”

“Oh!” you shouted, then stormed past him, out from the bedroom, and into the hallway. He followed close behind, watching as you grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung over the back of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “You’re so fucking stupid, Ferris, you don’t - You don’t get it!”

He stopped you as you made to head for the bathroom next, holding you by your shoulders so tight your skin ached and his knuckles paled. “What?” he demanded, sporting a fleshy red mark on his face where you’d struck him. “Don’t fucking get what?”

“Everything!” you howled, feeling as tears cascaded down your cheeks to your chin. From there, they traveled down your neck and to your collar. “Fucking everything, Ferris! The way you bring people into our home, the way you never help with the bills, the - Jesus, the FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! Would it kill you to put away the fucking dishes?!” Ripping yourself from his hold, you reached up to weakly wipe at your tears. “I gave you so many chances, so many. So many signs…! And you never saw them. You never fucking saw them. So I’m giving you one now that you won’t be able to miss. Get. Out.”

For a long moment, Ferris only stared at you. You weren’t able to identify the expression playing his features, but it certainly was not the one that always stared you down on the regular. And you basked in it. Then suddenly he was moving, grasping your shoulders, coming close enough to show that his bottom lip was quivering. Normally you would have wrapped him up in a hug, held him close.

But now you wanted him as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, hey,” he said lowly, sounding strangely sweet. “Just take a breath, alright? Deep breath. We don’t have to do this right now. We’ll get this all cleaned up, sit down, take a break. And we’ll talk it out just like we always do, right?”

“There’s no talking about this, Ferris,” you sniffled, trying to push him away. “There were so many times to sit down and have a goddamn conversation, and you never wanted to. So what makes you think I would sit down and talk this out with you?”

Ferris held on tight despite you trying to get away from him, holding you so that your chests were pressed together. A chill crawled up your spine as you remembered last night; the neon glow of the lights, the feeling of Spiderman’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sensations that crawled across your body when he sighed and held you close.

How fucking pathetic was it that you felt safer in a stranger’s arms than in your own boyfriend’s?

“Because we always work things out, baby,” he said, pulling your attention back to his face. His eyes had faded pink like he was the one that was about to cry - like he was the one who was allowed to cry - and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Right? We always come around. We - we can start over, okay? Forget about the band, and - and that Miguel guy always texting you, and our jobs, and everything. We’ll move, okay? Fresh starts.”

You regarded him with wide eyes, your lips parted and curled upwards in a sneer that you didn’t think you were capable of. A new, fresh kind of feeling entered your veins, one like ice water had replaced your blood. You released a low, disgusted sound from the back of your throat and clasped a hand over your throat. “You - have you been going through my phone?”

Ferris pursed his lips - a tell he had that his anger was starting to flare up. “Only to keep you safe,” he urged. When you finally shoved him away and turned, he burst. “And good thing I have been, too, huh?! That creep is practically stalking you! Texting every other night, asking you to meet up -”

“Because of his fucking kid!” you howled, then grabbed the television remote and threw it at his head. He must have seen your windup, because he ducked, letting the projectile sail over his head and smack against the couch behind him. “He’s a father, you fucking dickhead - his kid is my goddamn student! I’ve been tutoring her! Not going out on dates with the guy! How selfish can you be?!”

“You and I both know those aren’t texts of some shitty-ass ‘well to do’ pops,” he threw back when he’d returned to his full height. “Asking how you’re doing in the middle of the night? While you’re at work? Real classy, that guy is. Trying to fuck his kid’s teacher.”

“Will you get out already!” Tears rivered down your cheeks as you hugged yourself, bare feet freezing against the hardwood floor and heart thundering in your ears loud enough to triumph the rain that had begun its pounding on the windows. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Ferris stared at you for a long, long while, his chest heaving and his eyes ablaze with some kind of emotion you could not place. For a moment or two, you thought briefly that he was going to strike you. But then he stooped to grab his hoodie and stormed past you. Broken pieces of plate crunched under his shoes as he threw open the front door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” he said over his shoulder, then left you alone.

So incredibly, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Slowly, as the blood rushing in your ears faded away, the noises of the outside world returned. The dog downstairs was still barking. The cars were still honking. The rain was pounding, and the thunder was rolling, and you were sobbing.

Contorting your mouth into a cry as a broken wail escaped your lips, you let yourself sink down to the cold floor and hung your head in your lap. Your systems were all fried, your brain on break. The only thing you could do was sit there in a heap and cry, shaking amidst the absolute mess you’d made of your home.

What seemed like hours later, and when you found yourself all out of tears, you sat up and stared at an empty place across the room. You’d finally, actually, truly done it. You’d kicked him out, opened your chest and shown him just how many bullet wounds you’d been carrying from every time he pulled that trigger of a tongue. He was gone. And you intended to keep it that way.

White noise invaded your ears as you set to work, allowing the rest of the world to fade away. You swept up the shattered pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor; when you picked up a larger piece that had tried to get away from you, you realized it reminded you of your monarch mask from the club. You let it drop to the ground, and then you cleaned up those pieces, as well.

Next you emptied your box of trash bags and dragged them behind you as you traveled your apartment room to room, corner to corner, clearing out everything that belonged to Ferris. His clothes, his utilities and trinkets and prized possessions - they all went into the bags. And those bags were hauled downstairs and placed in the corner beside the trash. The guitar was leaned up against them. When you went back down half an hour later to throw out his food you hated the leftovers he’d been letting rot, it was gone.

Maybe those strings could make someone better than him happier than he was.

When the entire place was cleared of him, you dug through your wallet and the secret stash you kept in the sole of one of your ratty shoes and went to knock on your landlord’s door. The locks on yours were changed in less than an hour.

And when you finally felt safe enough to breathe in your own air again, you cleaned your entire home. Floor to ceiling, you mopped and wiped down and sprayed until every single trace of him was gone. The sheets were changed. The couch cushions washed. Every single piece of grime and dirt he’d brought into your life was gone.

And you couldn’t have been more glad.

Ferris had been a stain on your life, one you hadn’t necessarily wanted to clean and get rid of. If you did, it meant that you’d be left with a blank slate, with the echo of what you used to have. But echoes were meant to fade away. And blank slates were meant to be filled with new things. Bigger, better, brighter things.

It must have been late evening, after the rain had finally calmed and the thunder moved south, when you were pulled from the little dinner you were making yourself by a knock on the door. Your head whipped around, systems on high alert, thinking it was Ferris. You stayed perfectly still and silent.

There came another, slightly more frantic knock, followed by a call of your name. But it wasn’t Ferris on the other side. “Hello?” said Miguel O’Hara. “Are you home?”

For the first time today, since the moment you’d opened your eyes this morning, a certain kind of warmth blossomed throughout your chest. Setting the stove to low, you crossed the little kitchen, unchained your new locks, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted you was not the one you realized you were expecting.

Both Miguel and Gabriella were soaked to the bone, creating a puddle at your doorstep, and each hauling a small load of baggage over their shoulders. Their matching eyes were tired, exhausted. The little girl was shivering through her wet clothes, and her father tugged her closer to his side in an attempt to keep her warm.

“Hey,” murmured Miguel when your alarmed gaze flickered to meet his.

“Oh, my god,” you said, then stepped aside so that they could enter. “Get inside, please. Come on.” You watched as they trudged into your kitchen, lugging their things with them. “What the hell happened?” you asked, forgetting your mouth in front of your third grader.

Miguel dropped his bag down beside the door as you shut and locked it, releasing a long, weighted sigh from the back of his throat. He dipped his head down and palmed at the back of his neck as he turned to face you. “The apartment,” he said shortly, and suddenly you understood. The apartment building this morning in Brooklyn that had been disfigured by… whatever. It had been theirs.

How long had they been out in this?

“Jesus,” you said, kneeling down to grab a clean dish rag and towel Gabriella’s soaking hair. She sniffed tightly as you did so, her large, brown eyes shut to the sensation of your hands moving across her head. Poor fucking kid - displaced by whatever new freak incident New York had to offer this week.

“I tried to call you,” said Miguel from where he stood over you.

Your heart sunk slightly in your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you said as you stood, clutching the towel to your chest. God, even with all that excess water weighing him down, he still towered over you like a mountain. You were able to see his midsection through his wet shirt; but you didn’t let yourself go there. Not now. “I’ve been busy all day. Something - something happened, and…”

He met your eyes, limp hair hanging in his face to frame his temples, his cheekbones, his finely-cut jaw. A drop of water fell from the squared point of his chin, landing on the top of your bare foot. It sent a shiver racing in a mad dash up your spine. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you, and you were able to feel his warm breath fan across your face. Christ, when had you gotten this close? “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Don’t do that.” Against your better judgment, because today had been a day of going against every wall and boundary you knew, you reached up to ghost your fingers along his jaw. You swore you heard his breath hitch in his throat as he blinked down at you. “You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw against the screaming, searing sensation that wanted you to lean forward and connect your lips to his. “I don’t care if it’s days or weeks or months. You and she will always have a home here.”

This was insane. You could get fired from your job if the board found out you were doing this. But you didn’t care. As of now, your mind had long since run away, and you weren’t in much of a rush to catch it. Because if it felt this good to be out of your head, then by god, did you want to stay like this forever.

Miguel’s head tipped down ever so slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed thick. He had just opened his lips to whisper something in reply when your attention was pulled to the side, reminding you that you were not the only ones here.

“Daddy,” said Gabriella, looking just miserable standing there in a puddle of the water dripping off of her. “I’m really cold.”

Pulling away with a quick glance, Miguel stooped to pull his daughter into his arms. “I know, princesa,” he murmured as he held her, smoothing back hair that had stuck to her face. “We’ll get you warmed up.”

“The bathroom’s just down there,” you said, pointing down the hall. “You can run her a bath, if she wants. I’ll grab her something to wear.”

Nodding his thanks, he carried her and one of her bags down the hall and into the bathroom. A few minutes after the door softly clicked shut, you heard the water begin to run. You leaned against the countertop, staring at the bags gathering water by your front door.

This was happening. This was happening. Miguel O’Hara was going to be staying in your home. After dreaming and fantasizing all this time, he was finally within arm’s reach.

But your quiet comprehension was muted by the cold slap of reality. He wasn’t here for pleasure; he was here out of necessity. Out of survival. He and his daughter wouldn’t have a home for god knew how long; this wasn’t some dream come true. It was a tragedy.

On quiet feet, because you thought you heard Gabriella sniffling from the bathroom as she and her father talked in hushed tones, you crept into your room and retrieved an oversized sweatshirt and some shorts that she would be able to drawstring tight. After leaving them by the restroom door, you took her and Miguel’s things into the bedroom and laid out what little lay inside to dry; some of his spare clothes, a laptop, legal documents… anything and everything they could have been able to grab before they were evacuated. Staring at a framed picture of Gabriella when she couldn’t have been older than three or four, you wondered just what had caused the strange phenomenon that destroyed their home. Had it been an accident? Or had something targeted taken place?

You wondered if Spiderman was trying to take care of it.

After laying out their belongings to dry on your bed, you hurried back to the kitchen and scrambled to make your dinner enough for three people to share. You hoped they liked store-brand mac and cheese.

Some time later, after you’d heard your hair dryer running for a while, Miguel and Gabriella emerged from your restroom. She looked tiny in your old pajamas, but she seemed content with the way the long sleeves flopped about her arms and the hoodie framed her face like a curtain. He’d also changed into a spare set of clothes he must have had in the bag - a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched in the most perfect way across his well-defined pecs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than necessary when they wandered back into the kitchen, following their noses to the plates waiting for them.

“Hope you two are hungry,” you said as you gave them each their dinner. “Gabriella, honey, the remote is on the arm of the couch, if you want to watch TV while you eat.”

After waiting for a nod from her father, she took her plate and scurried over to your couch. A moment later, your apartment was filled with the quiet sounds of cartoons.

Miguel released a long, deep sigh from the pit of his stomach as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with you, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How funny it was, how beautifully ironic, how quickly this had become an idyllic scene of domestication. “I really can’t tell you how much this helps us,” he said, pushing mac and cheese around with his fork. His thick, full brows pinched together as he lost himself in thought. You noticed that when he did, a little line appeared at the corner of his mouth. “It all happened so quickly. Just…”

“Hey.” Again going against what your brain tried to pull you away from, you placed the hand that wasn’t holding your bowl over his wrist. Despite having been soaked just a short time ago, his tan skin was warm beneath your own. When your fingers slid down, you felt the soft twitch of his pulse. “It’s alright, Miguel. You’re here now. She’s safe.” You gave him a small, crooked smile. “It’ll be okay.”

He held your gaze for a long while, so long that you felt your heart skip a beat, and when it did, he released a small chuckle - like he could hear it. Finally, you both looked down to push around at your dinners. He did not ask you about the absence of your boyfriend that you had told him pushed you out of your own home that day at the library. You were sure a keen man like him could pick up on a few things; how there were no belongings of another man here, how there were dents in the walls where you’d thrown items and slammed doors.

He didn’t ask, and you were glad. It seemed, in a way, he knew.

You loved that he did.

Behind you, the sound of a speaker being fiddled with pulled your heads around. Gabriella had discovered the little record player on your shelf - a gift to yourself a year or two ago. You hadn’t played it much, what with Ferris’ constant complaining about it. But as you watched the little girl gingerly place a vinyl down on the player, you realized you’d been missing out.

“Ay,” scolded Miguel and set down his bowl. “Manos a ti mismo.”

“It’s okay,” you said, then moved into the living room to help her with the settings. “I haven’t used this thing in forever.”

Seemingly still a little shell shocked from the events of the day, Gabriella watched you shyly as you dropped the needle and suddenly, music was spilling from the speakers. It wasn’t the kind of music your old boyfriend played on that guitar of his; this was real, with heart and feeling and a kind of rhythm that pulled your heart slightly from the abyss it was stuck in.

‘Hey, what’s the matter with your head, yeah?’

And then, because fuck, you couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because your feet were suddenly moving on their own, you started dancing. You swayed back and forth to the beat of the song, to the bass and the melody, wiggling your head a bit.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you said, taking Gabriella’s small hands in yours. “Will you show me that beautiful smile and dance with me?”

Slowly, gingerly, like a bit of her fiery, lively soul was returning to her, Gabriella’s lips thinned into a smile. She let you pull her around the living room, beginning to copy your movements as she grinned and giggled. Her limbs were sluggish and awkward, a wonderful testament to the mere nine years she’d been on the earth, but her laughter and her tongue poking through the place where she’d recently lost a tooth made up for it. Lyrics like directions to your awful little dance spewed from the shelf where the record player sat, witness to the show in your home.

‘Baby, find it, come on and find it.’

You spun on your heel to face Miguel, who was standing at the entrance of your kitchen, watching the scene before him with parted lips and hooded eyes that made your stomach turn violently and passionately. Shuffling closer to him and bringing forth every ounce and inch of courage you hand, you took your hands and wiggled up close. You breathed out the next lyrics in a sing-songy whisper only he could hear.

“Bear with it, baby, ‘cause you’re fine, and you’re mine, and you look so divine.”

Miguel’s head tilted to the side in that way he did, gaze wider now and the beginnings of a low, enthralled smile twisting his lips. Then his feet were moving, allowing you to pull him into the living room with Gabriella to join your little dance.

While she twisted and spun and pretended to know the words, you felt his fingers interlace with yours. You grinned, because holy fuck - what else in the world was there to do? - and let him sway you back and forth with the thrum of the song, fronts just inches apart and legs already tangled together. He began to hum the song from the back of his throat, from the bottom of his belly, and you swore you’d never heard a better sound in your life.

When Gabriella had turned away, too caught up in her own world of the song, Miguel leaned in close so that his cheek brushed yours, so that your chests were pressed together, so that his full lips grazed the shell of your ear. He murmured so softly you strained to hear him over the swell of the music, but you did.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

Then he pulled back away to bore his gaze down into your own, his forehead just barely grazing yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say nothing, because you might have just shrunk into yourself and disappeared into the very tingling, overwhelming ache and pang of want and need and everything else in your heart. Didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth, because you might have just leaned up and kissed him.

So you just pressed your forehead up into his, smiled so bright and so wide your cheeks hurt, and danced.

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