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101maverick · 3 months

Note

one shot with comic dick grayson where you guys get into a small fight and it gets to the point that when you spar together, he purposefully pins you to the ground to make you listen to his apology🫢

A/n: ooooohhhh this is juicy! Perfect angst material eheh🤭 imma have fun with this one >:) Not really sure about the “comic” part tho, cause i’m still at the start of my comic journey, but I’ve seen panels here and there on tumblr so imma see what I can do for u

Word count: 1400

There’s Something in Your Eyes

You are being stupid, really.

Logically, you know Dick loves you.

Logically, you know there is nothing going on between them.

Logically, you know Dick is an extremely influential hero, and that basically everyone in the hero community looks up to him since he’s been in it for forever, which makes it normal for him to have had many flings with people he still to this day works with.

However, logic doesn’t stop jealousy from burning in the pit of your stomach every time you see him interacting with one of them.

It’s not even one particular event that sets you off, more so a series of tiny little things.

Each reunion, each debrief, each cheesy quip, each mission, they all pile up until what was once only a tiny twinge of jealousy has turned into a gaping hole in your chest, out of which comes only anger and insecurity.

You aren’t an intergalactic princess like Koriand’r.

You aren’t an historic sidekick partner and lifelong friend like Barbara Gordon.

You aren’t some charming top-model or Lord-knows-what-else that his past stories surely are.

You’re just you, and while you don’t necessarily think badly of yourself, nowadays you aren’t sure that ‘you’ is enough.

And all of this is so unfounded that you feel silly at the thought of even voicing it, and you really didn't mean to make a fuss, but when Dick comes home after the umpteenth space mission with the Titans, raving about Starfire's intergalactic ambassador skills, you can't help the irritated quip that makes it's way past your lips.

“Cause she’s always so amazing, isn’t she?” You huff. Satisfaction coils in your gut, a bit of the tension inside you easing as a bit of your pent-up frustration finally finds release. You stifle it as best you can.

At that Dick looks up at you, startled. You feel your previous satisfaction wither right alongside the happiness in his eyes.

You are in your shared apartment’s kitchen, the island between you as he sits on a stool while you lean against the counter.

“What?” He asks, confused. His expression is rapidly morphing, reminding you of something awfully akin to a kicked puppy.

You backtrack as fast as possible. “Nothing, don’t think about it.”

Shame colours your cheeks, and their sting joins the burning of your mounting shame, bubbling under your skin. You turn your body away from him, not wanting him to see.

Dick isn’t having that though, because your boyfriend, your sweet and perceptive boyfriend, sees the way your shoulders are hunched and your brow is slightly furrowed and immediately clocks what your remark was all about.

He shoots you a concerned glance. “Babe, you alright?” He asks while sliding off the barstool, making his way around the kitchen island. Ever the tactful one, as always. “If there’s something bothering you, we can talk about it—”

You cut him off. “I said it’s nothing. There’s nothing to talk about.” The irritation in your voice is a poor shield to hide behind, a hastily put-together cloak of dryness and hardened stares for your shame to shroud itself in.

Dick remains standing there, halfway around the kitchen island, as you make your exit to the bedroom.

————————————

The day passes, and you keep your distance. Just the thought of how Dick would react to you voicing your insecurities, the absolute hurt that would mar his features at his girlfriend accusing him of cheating of all things, makes the flame of shame and self-hatred re-ignite in your ribcage, inflaming your lungs with every breath.

You manage to deflect any attempts at confrontation in the car, spending the whole ride to the Manor looking out the window and blasting music through your earphones.

————————————

It all comes to a head in the Batcave, obviously.

You’re training in a corner of the gym area, going through your usual routine. Dick comes up to where you are and stands there, waiting for you to pay attention.

After a solid five minutes of him standing there unmoving and of you stubbornly ignoring him you cave and pause your reps. You keep your eyes stubbornly fixed ahead of you.

He tosses you a roll of bandages. “You up for a spar?” His voice is quiet. Your resolve breaks.

You grab the bandages and swiftly wrap your hands. He stays watching you the whole time. You wonder wether his gaze is damning or merely analytical.

When you’re done you move to the training mats. Getting into position is reflex by now, readying your stance and falling into a weird stand-off, both waiting for the other to swing first. You keep your eyes fixed to a spot above his shoulder.

You attack first, lunging at him and throwing a right hook, meanwhile trying to kick his feet off of him.

Dick swiftly avoids your punch, sidestepping it and catching your entire arm in his grip. He uses that to leverage your body over his shoulder, rendering useless your attempt at getting him off-balance.

You recover in mid-air, landing in a roll and getting back up while he’s still in the process of turning toward you, and manage to land a punch to his stomach.

He sputters but manages to step aside in time to avoid your other arm coming to enclose on his waist, and your momentum makes you loose your balance.

You go for another roll, but before you can do more than turn on your back you find yourself locked into a full-body pin.

Dick’s almost laying on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips, his chest pressing on yours so his bodyweight weighs you down too much to get up.

His forearms are laying on either side of your head, though. You could easily slide your arms out from where he’s got them pinned against your sides and make him loose his balance, if you wanted.

Trapped like this, though, your face inches from his, you have no choice but to stare right into his eyes.

What you find there stops you from fighting.

His expression his open, his brows slightly furrowed. In those oceans he’s got for irises swims something you aren’t sure you know the name of, but it doesn’t burn you and you aren’t sure you like that. Aren’t sure you want the unfamiliarity of it to keep festering.

Dick Grayson reads people like one does library handouts, laid bare with all their weathered discolouration and all their folded corners for whoever comes across to see. You are no exception.

So why, just why in the hell doesn’t his gaze burn? Why doesn’t it scorch you with the familiar flames of hatred, resentment and anger?

You want to turn away. You do, really. Aren’t sure you can keep looking into those mariana-trench deep wells of something you can’t name without drowning. You steel yourself, though. You have a feeling that looking away would be too much like a condemned man flipping the switch of the electric chair himself. You’re gonna leave that job to him.

“You know I hate it when there’s something wrong but you won’t tell me about it.”

His voice is soft. It doesn’t burn. That damned something permeates it, as well.

“You already know everything you need to. What’s the point in making a bigger fool of myself?”

The shame stings your cheeks. The way the something remains plastered on his face unperturbed instead of giving way to something fiery soothes it. The lack of condemnation rips the confession from your lips.

“I’m sorry.”

The admission. You’re right, it says. Everything you read in that torn-up book of my soul is true. Add another tear to it’s pages. Rip it to shreds.

How could you? How could you have, even second-handedly, doubted his loyalty? How could you have been so self-absorbed and childishly jealous, when that forsaken something embeds itself into every fibre of his being? While it washes over you to soothe every burn and extinguish every flame you yourself caused?

Dick’s expression changes. It morphs. The something is joined by something else now, not unlike a breeze parting clouds previously hanging in a greyed sky.

“It’s okay. I just wish we’d work together when there’s something bothering one of us.”

It’s okay. Absolution.

You think the sky would’ve parted. You think you should be hearing trumpets right now.

You are reminded, then, that there is a whole world outside of this cave. That who you have in front of you is just a man, and that the universe is filled with something bigger than yourselves.

But even with this knowledge at the forefront of your mind, here, with Dick’s forearms resting on either side of your head, your entire universe boils down to him. To his almost-creaseless brow. To his something-filled irises.

And in this moment of clarity you realise that right now, with all your little hurts bare to see, his entire universe boils down to you.

“Yeah. Let’s.”

You wish you had more to say. You wish your brain could come up with something more substantial.

You hope the something shining in your eyes is enough.

It feels a lot like love.

————————————

A/n: I hope you enjoyed!! I absolutely loved writing this, it was so fun and I just love angst hehe If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

#gotta keep u guys fed while the archive is down #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson fanfiction #maverick’s prompt fill #maverick answers #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc fanfiction

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narraboths · 11 months

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i'd like to think you could just walk into a diner in national city and see supergirl (costume and all, no fucks given) and lena luthor making out like teenagers in a corner booth

[Ao3]

The first time Supergirl comes to The Intergalactic, she’s thrown straight through its glass doors by a giant space lizard.

It’s really not how Ellie imagined meeting the city’s superhero. It’s not that she thought she’d actually ever meet Supergirl, least of all at work. Tucked away in a side-street near National City University and surviving in a cramped space, with minimal staff, and decor left from the beginning of the Space Age, The Intergalactic mostly sees harried college students and late-night party-goers in need of some fuel. Alien attacks and billowing capes are usually not on the menu.

She has no time to be disappointed by the circumstances of their chance meeting, though. She cannot feel anything beyond absolute terror, really, given the giant space lizard that just made the Girl of Steel demolish their sleepy burger joint’s entrance.

But then, Supergirl climbs back to her feet as she always does, shoulders squared, arms raised, ready to fight. She winces a little at the damage, shooting an apologetic smile towards Ellie before she’d fly up up and away, dragging the lizard into the sky with her. The sight of it is so fucking cool that for a second, Ellie is even distracted from the absolute wreckage around her.

(Then, her shoes almost catch fire and she’s brought back to the cold, hard, rubble-covered ground of reality.)

Later, when the news reports are loud with praise for another successful Super-save, and Ellie has managed to sweep up most of the broken glass and endured a hysterical call from her boss, Supergirl touches down in front of their doors again.

“Hello,” she waves with a little smile. She still has soot marks on her face, but she stands tall, impossibly dashing. “I’m very sorry for the commotion,” she says, before Ellie could even process the fact that the hero of National City is at her doorstep, again, engaging with her in casual conversation. “I just wanted to check in and see if everyone here was alright.”

“You just fought with an alien lizard,” Ellie blurts out, and Supergirl shrugs, in a hey, just another day on the job kinda way.

“Dracokardosian, actually. Doesn’t matter,” she adds quickly, then plants her hands on her hips. The Super-pose. It makes her shoulders seem even wider, the fabric of her suit straining against her upper arms. Ellie feels giddy. “Listen, I’ll make sure you’ll be reimbursed for the damage, but can I lend a hand with anything?”

“We’re fine, I think. It’s only the storefront that got hit– that you hit. No great damage, no injuries.” Supergirl smiles with palpable relief, and Ellie feels the need to ramble on, to keep her there, to bask in the glory of the superhero a little longer. The smell of still-hot frying oil wafting from the kitchen gives her the prompt before she’d even think about it. “Would you like a burger?”

Supergirl looks at her with a confused frown.

“Aren’t you guys closed up yet?”

“I mean, it’s not like we can really close right now,” Ellie shrugs, gesturing towards the gaping hole where the diner’s entrance used to be. It earns an amused little snort from Supergirl, just enough of a boost for Ellie to press on, heart beating in her throat. “Plus, you’re the only reason the place is still standing at all and I’d really like to be able to brag about having served Supergirl, like how many places get to do that?“

“Well, there’s this great patisserie on Lamarr Ave,” Supergirl says, forehead crinkling in concentration as she mulls over the answer. “And then my regular Chinese place, and this café in Paris–” She cuts herself off with a grin. “Okay, point taken. I would love one. But mind if I fix your door in the meantime?”

Ellie nods so vehemently that she gives herself a headrush.

“It’s a deal.”

Supergirl touches a hand to her earpiece, speaking low and incomprehensible before she’d speed away again and Ellie saunters off to the kitchen.

Inside, Jay is half-napping over the sink. He wakes from his slumber with dark, bleary eyes and stares in disbelief as Ellie rattles off the order, until she tells him it’s for Supergirl. He laughs first (yeah, and I’m the Virgin Mary), then takes a peek outside where Supergirl now busy welding the new doors using her heat vision, with a swarm of nanites hovering nearby for assistance. She stops for a second to wave at them: Ellie feels her heart fluttering and Jay gets all red and sweaty, rushing back to the kitchen and getting to it with such dedication as if the diner making it into the Michelin Guide depended on it.

By the time he’s done, The Intergalactic is sporting a brand new, shiny pair of doors, and Supergirl is sitting in a booth, excitedly drumming on a table with her fingers. Then, one burger swiftly turns into three, plus six sides of fries, two milkshakes, and some fried onions for good measure, Supergirl wolfing it all down at a speed fitting her superhuman appetite. She still finds the time to entertain Ellie and Jay with details of her fight between bites (his name is Spike, he was just scared), joking around with them with such geniality that makes her seem more like one of the nicer jocks from NCU, not a demigod in a supersuit. She’s sunshine personified. She compliments the food about half a dozen times (Jay blushes so hard that his face ends up looking like a ripe tomato), leaves a tip large enough to foot the bill twice, and even though it’s nearing midnight by the time she steps outside, Ellie feels a heavy pang in her heart to watch her leave. Supergirl smiles and waves them goodbye, and Ellie manages to run outside just as she takes off, yelling after her:

“See you again!”

She thinks she can see Supergirl wink at her before she speeds away.

The second time Supergirl visits the diner, it’s been well over a month since the space lizard incident, and Ellie has honestly given up on ever seeing the Girl of Steel in person again. It’s just past the mid-day rush, the diner mostly emptied out, the staff finally getting a breather. She’s busy cleaning the tables in the back when Lev walks up to her, poking her arm.

“Hey, am I tripping, or is that really Supergirl?”

Ellie turns around at lightning speed, just in time to catch Supergirl leaning against the empty counter with a friendly smile.

"Can I get a booth?” She asks, courteously ignoring the way Lev’s jaw is hanging wide open. “Your burgers smell so fantastic, my mouth has been watering all the way from Metropolis.”

Ellie’s shaking with so much nervous energy that she thinks she might start vibrating like the Flash.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever, I’ll be right with you!”

Supergirl is, well, just super.

Her visits to The Intergalactic are infrequent enough that the place doesn’t get hounded by paps, or Super-fans, or any villain of the week; arriving almost always in off-hours, when the place is almost as empty as the street outside. But her appearances are plenty enough for every single member of the staff to fall head over heels in love with her. She turns out to be just as ridiculously kind and nice as the CatCo fluff pieces would have the public believe: always praising the food, being as courteous with the staff as she is game to take selfies with them. She chats with Lev about their college studies, gives Ellie an air-lift when her car breaks down one night. She makes people smile just by walking through the door.

She’s the best part of the job.

When Supergirl turns up with Lena Luthor at her side one day, Ellie’s already so used to the outlandishness of their superhero regular that she’s only moderately shaken to see the most notorious public figure of National City striding into the diner with her.

She still almost bites down on her tongue and trips over, because holy shit, Lena Luthor is a sight. There’s always a touch of unreal about Supergirl’s appearance – maybe it’s the suit, maybe it’s the knowledge that she’s an alien, maybe it’s the fact that she always looks like she’s glowing from the inside. Her towering physique and artfully drawn features are awing, but they also seem just right for a superhero.

But Lena Luthor is only an ordinary human, and no ordinary human, all-powerful CEO or not, should look like a Greek goddess personified.

Ellie is so engrossed that she doesn’t even notice at first how Supergirl’s hand is resting on the small of Miss Luthor’s back, how they’re standing so close that their shoulders brush together, Lena Luthor leaning just slightly against the hero.

“Quaint,” she murmurs, low and amused, and though there’s nothing unkind about it, Ellie’s suddenly very aware of how pristine she looks in the middle of their greasy little diner. (Shit, her clothes must be worth more than the whole place.) But then, before she could get flustered, Supergirl snorts, bumping Miss Luthor’s shoulder with a grin.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

Their rapport is so charming that at first, it doesn’t even register with Ellie how downright smitten Lena Luthor’s smile is in response to Supergirl’s teasing.

Lena Luthor turns out to be super in her own ways. She’s more reserved than Supergirl, more guarded about her appearances, too, but disarmingly nice all the same. The tabloid headlines screaming ice queen and megalomaniac seem more and more ridiculous with every visit – there’s very little that says Mad Luthor about the small, overworked young woman who makes a point of asking about her day and leaves large enough tips that they can refit the whole kitchen with it and fix up the back room.

They keep odd hours those days, though, popping in for early morning coffees, or late, late night snacks. They share a plate more often than not, and the sight of Supergirl stealing a bite off of Lena Luthor’s fork becomes somewhat of a regular occurrence. (In no particular order, so does the following: Lena Luthor’s head resting on Supergirl’s shoulders, eyes fluttered shut; Supergirl leaning forward a little so Lena Luthor can press a goodbye kiss to her cheek before the superhero would fly off with a grin; Lena Luthor wiping some grease from the corner of Supergirl’s mouth with an indescribably fond smile).

It starts feeling like something that’s just meant to be.

Ellie doesn’t know whether it’s their first kiss or not when she witnesses it.

She’d never want to pry, either. It’s only by accident that she sees it happen at all. But she does see it, late one night, when Supergirl and Miss Luthor are huddled together in one of the booths in the back.

They look a little tired now – Supergirl’s cape is half off her shoulder, Lena Luthor’s hair let down and a touch messy, jarringly for her usually so put-together appearance – but sweet, too, as they always do, and utterly enamored. Supergirl’s hand is cradling Lena’s chin, Lena’s hands are buried in her golden mane, their lips pressing together gently, both of them smiling radiantly, lost in their own world. Then Lena presses forward a little, pushing Supergirl against her seat, and Ellie turns away with a burning face and starts scrubbing a table so hard that she risks putting a hole through the damn thing, trying to pretend she didn’t hear the breathless, overjoyed laugh echoing through the empty room.

It is, strictly speaking, not an issue that National City’s power couple has picked your place of work to be their makeout spot. Supergirl’s still the nicest person alive and Miss Luthor’s tipping habits have only grown more generous. They just take the booth that’s the farthest in the back, Ellie tries not to bother them too much, and if someone catches a glimpse of a red cape or a striking jawline, an emphatic glare and Just be cool, man usually does the trick.

Heroes, they’re just like us.

#Anonymous #supercorp #supercorp fic #my fic #anon you've probably literally sent this three years ago and this is what i am like as a person. if ur still out there: hi

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imaginedanvrs · 6 months

Text

home, sweet home

masterlist

dark(?)carol danvers x reader

word count: 4.5k

summary: when carol is sent a gift she refuses to accept, she discovers just how much she's been seeking a companion

warnings: human trafficking, past conditioning, elements of pet play, soft carol turned kind of dark? it's not her fault you're so cute

“I’m gonna have to call you back, Fury,” Carol mumbled, hanging up the coms device before the director could object. She stared down the unexpected delivery for a few short moments, trying to assess its reliability. She didn’t often get deliveries sent to her ship and it was even less common for them to be safe, though the small holes placed in the top of the crate sparked her curiosity enough to overcome her caution.

The Captain hooked her fingers under one of the top edges of the crate and pulled the lid off in one fluid motion and raised her glowing fist to shine on whatever creature was inside, slightly alarmed to see the face that peered up at her. Carol was quick to pull two of the sides off and grab the blanket that was hanging on the nearest chair to pass to you, becoming more confused when you merely stared at her blankly as you hugged your knees.

“Um, do you…hi,” Carol greeted tentatively as she placed the spotted blue blanket down in front of you and kept her eyes level with your own, hoping you would cover your bare form. You blinked, staring back blankly at the blonde crouching before you and gripped your knees tighter until there were half moons indented despite your nails having been cut the day before. She noticed the anxious gesture and moved back to give you some space, only then noticing the note attached to one of the discarded crate sides.

A gift of gratitude, the people of Krylor. Carol reread the note several times, taking a few moments to realise what your presence on her ship meant. Of course, she had heard the rumours of the intergalactic trade of humans that were passed around the cosmos, but she had never found enough solid evidence to even begin to tackle the issue until you arrived on her doorstep. Clearly the people of Krylor had greatly misinterpreted the kind of hero that Carol was if they had thought you were an appropriate gift, sparking a deep anger inside the Captain at such an assumption.

She looked back at you and immediately softened her features upon seeing the clear fear in your wide eyes that watched her apprehensively. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured with a nervous smile, entirely unsure of how she was meant to deal with you. “Do you understand me?” She asked. You nodded. “Good, good…” she muttered. “You can come out of there if you want,” she offered, backing away again. You continued to watch her without moving a muscle. She nodded as she glanced around her ship for any clues as to what to do with you. She couldn’t keep you there, that much was clear. But where could you go?

Of what Carol had heard about the human trade, they all carried the brand symbol somewhere on their body which meant that the blonde had to be cautious where she sent you in case you ended up back in the wrong hands. Of all the people Carol could trust with you, none of them were better suited to take care of you. Her allies bases were too hectic to place you in, the most neutering planets wouldn’t be able to protect you if needed and other heroes stuck to themselves as much as she did. That only left her with New Asgard, though Carol had sent so many refugees Valkyrie's way that she was hesitant to give her more to deal with. It was easier to do when they were together and Carol could be around more to help, but since the mutual break up Carol's distance meant she couldn’t always aid her people.

The Captain glanced back at you mid pace where you were still glued to the spot and redirected herself to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and placed it down next to the crate. You didn’t acknowledge it. “You should drink something. I’m sure it’s been a long journey,” Carol winced. She pushed the glass closer and stepped away. “Drink,” she insisted, which seemed to click something in your mind. You reached forward, but instead of holding the glass, you made your hand into a scoop and reached inside to gather some water in your hand and bring it up to your mouth.

“No, you-” Carol went to interject, startling you enough to shrink back into your crate. “Sorry,” she muttered, wondering if it would be best just to leave you for a while. You were clearly scared and confused and understandably didn’t trust the person you had been gifted to. Carol just wanted to try and communicate some reassurance to you, but she supposed that if you weren’t going to be with her for very long then there wasn’t much point in putting you through the additional stress it would take to get there. But sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind.

Taking a hold of the back of the crate, Carol pulled it against her as she walked backwards through the small ship and felt you stumble back inside. She brought you over to the corner between her sleeping area and the control panel and slotted the crate as far back as she could before grabbing a new blanket and hanging it over the front as a makeshift curtain, leaving a small gap in the side for you to peer through. It was the best she could do to make you feel safe for the time being. She placed the water back outside and put together a sandwich for you to eat, unsure of what you were used to and hoping that you would be okay with what she had.

“Okay, you can handle this,” Carol said to herself, a habit she had developed ever since spending the majority of her time alone with Goose who wasn’t big on conversation. She gathered that you weren't either.

“Crap,” she muttered when she saw her route to Earth was going to take a few days and that she would have to stop on the way for fuel too. She glanced back and noticed that the spotted blanket had vanished only to realise you had pulled it in. Carol smiled at that, hoping it gave you some kind of comfort, and looked around for some clothes for you to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt, some underwear and sweatpants and placed them outside your crate with the announcement that they were there. She wasn’t entirely sure you would take them, but a hand crept out from behind the curtain and dragged them inside.

Carol figured it was best to leave you to it for a while and turned back to her control panels that monitored any unusual activities in the galaxies closest. There was always work to be done, even if she did have a guest in her home. It was common for the blonde to spend several hours there without realising and it was always Goose that snapped her out of her workaholic trance, though that time the flerken did so in a new way.

Carol turned around at the sound of a distant meow, assuming she had gotten herself trapped in a cupboard as she often did when she went wandering around the ship, only to see the ginger tail sticking out from behind the curtain on your crate. Listening closely, Carol heard the familiar purr rumble from Goose and smiled, suddenly getting an idea.

“Goose,” Carol called as she sat cross legged a few steps away from the crate. The flerken appeared from behind the curtain and trotted over to the Captain obediently, nuzzling into her hand as she continued to purr happily. The curtain twitched and you peered around the gap to see where Goose had gone and blinked at the sight of Carol’s gentleness with the ginger creature. You pulled the curtain back further to watch with interest and Goose strolled back over to you, clearly enjoying the extra attention she was getting.

“She likes you,” Carol commented with an easy smile. Pretty. “You can come out of there if you want to. I’ll leave the crate there so you can go back to it whenever you want to,” Carol explained. You glanced around the room just as Goose sprang from your lap and jumped up onto the nearest counter to patrol her territory. You watched curiously for a few moments before stretching your legs out of the cramped space. The blonde averted her eyes at your still bare form, knowing that at some point she was going to have to help you dress.

“The bathroom’s just down the hall,” she told you. Your eyes flickered between Carol and Goose as you crept out of the crate and peered in the direction that she had pointed. When both feet were on the warm floor of Carol’s ship, you assessed her closely for any sudden movements and upon finding nothing, you continued cautiously down the hall. Once you had disappeared from view, Carol inspected the crate and noticed that the clothes she had given you had been pushed together with the blanket to form a nest. The glass of water was empty though the sandwich remained. That meant it had been a long time since you had eaten anything and seeing as it was Goose’s dinner, the Captain decided to make something up for all three of you.

When you reamurged from the hallway, the smells that hit you from the kitchen were heavenly. You didn’t recognise them but all you knew was that you wanted to know what was at their source and when you saw Carol standing over the stove, you approached slowly. She noticed you and smiled, following your gaze to the pot.

“Do you like rice?” She asked. That, you knew. You nodded. “It’s like that but an adapted version I learnt from the Skrulls.” You nodded again, deciding that you liked the sound of the blonde’s voice. “While we let it cook…shall we get some clothes on you?” She enquired. You glanced down and then back at Carol with a hesitant nod. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything, but you followed a few steps behind Carol as she retrieved the clothes she laid out for you, knowing that if it was something she wanted then you should accept.

“Put your hands out,” she instructed gently. You did so and she bunched up one sleeve to slide up your arm and then did the same with the other before pulling the top over your head, chuckling softly at the sight of your dishevelled hair. You liked that sound too. And her sweatshirt. It was mostly white but had a few splashes of pink and blue swirls across it that you found yourself examining while Carol reached for the underwear.

“This foot up,” she coached with a tap to your left foot. You lifted it, then the other, until the underwear were pulled up your legs and fit comfortably around you. The sweatpants followed in the same way and you immediately felt considerably more comfortable in the clothes you had been gifted. They were a size bigger than what you needed, but you wondered if that made them better.

You gave her a small smile in recognition. “You can sit down while I plate up,” she told you, turning to go back to the kitchen but stopping when she saw you try to sit down on the floor. “Somewhere more comfortable,” she assured and pulled out a chair at the small table by the kitchen. You couldn’t recall ever having been let on furniture before, so it took you several embarrassing moments to get attempt to get on the chair, constantly wobbling until Carol muttered that you could stay on the floor, though not entirely happy with letting you do so.

You sat patiently there as you watched Carol finishing preparing the meal and plate two full dishes. The food was mounted so high that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to finish the meal and feared what would happen if you couldn’t. You had never been given so much food in one sitting before.

“Do you remember Earth?” Carol asked as she sat down at the table next to you. You didn’t recognise that name, so you shook your head and watched as Carol tapped her wrist band a few times until a hologram appeared between you. “That’s it,” she said, zooming in slightly on the sphere so that you could see it was a planet made up of majority water and that the land contained a vast variety of different conditions. It looked quite overwhelming and you certainly didn’t feel any compulsion to return if that was apparently where you came from.

“It’s not without its flaws,” Carol chuckled when she noticed your hesitance. “But it’s your home,” she said. You tilted your head in recognition and Carol took it as a positive sign. She focused on the hologram more. “Maybe here,” she suggested, bringing up a visual of New Asgard. It did look nicer than the rest of the planet, but Carol’s ship was growing on you unusually rapidly.

Of all the people you could recall ever meeting, none of them had been like Carol. They had been cruel and treated you as less than human, perhaps seeing you as such, and you hadn’t liked any of them. They kept you in cramped, cold places that you couldn’t escape from, making you unable to believe just how warm Carol’s ship was. And not just that, her as well. You had felt it when she dressed you, her hands radiated a gentle heat that you hadn’t ever experienced but were instantly fond of. Carol was the only person you had ever met who you had reason to trust, so you didn’t hope to part from her anytime soon.

You watched as Carol ate the meal she had prepared and glanced down at your own bowl and the spoon that sat in it. It smelled really good and it looked really good, you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait too long to eat it. “You can start,” Carol told you when she noticed you refraining. You blinked at her and the utensil she held in her hand that you couldn’t use.

Of course, the blonde thought as she realised why you hadn’t eaten the snack earlier either. You needed help. That explained how you had approached the water as well. Carol crouched down in front of you as you looked to her for guidance..

“I’m gonna help you,” she told you gently, bringing the glass up to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently for the Captain to coax the water past your lips gradually. She watched closely to ensure you weren’t taking too much at once and pulled back accordingly to replace the glass with a spoonful of the hearty meal she had prepared. After several moments, she sat down with you and stretched her legs out comfortably.

It was delicious, you thought as you savoured the dish while Carol did the same. You watched her closely for guidance as she ate and helped you, occasionally making comments about the various dishes she had learnt in her travels and how she had been able to share all of them with Goose given that his digestive system was practically impossible to disturb. Still, it was nice to share the dishes with another human, she told you openly with a small smile. You mirrored it, recognising that you were able to provide her of some kind of service. It felt good to please her.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked once you were both done with the meal. Carol didn’t often host guests in general, never mind ones of your characteristics and needs. She hadn’t had many visitors during her time on Hala or when she lived with Maria either. However, if there was anything the blonde was neglecting in her hosting duties, you weren’t about to notice.

You watched curiously as Carol set up a movie for you near her bed and though you didn’t recognise the images that began to play, you were transfixed by them. You heard the Captain say something about Goose stealing her speaker as she disappeared through the ship to retrieve it. You waited several moments before wandering across the space and sitting down on the floor in front of the screen to admire it closely. When Carol came back, you already appeared fully entertained by the film so she left the speaker on the side and silently began getting back to work, glancing over at you occasionally to ensure you were okay.

You remained comfortably like that for some time until your eyelids began to feel heavy and there was a distant haze starting behind your eyes. Still watching the film, you lay yourself down and curled up on the hard floor by the screen, you were tired but unable to sleep so you peered back at the Captain who was already watching you. “You know, there are more comfortable places than the floor to sleep,” she told you with a small smile. You blinked at her. “You’re as bad as Goose,” she muttered to herself. “But it is getting late,” she admitted as she strolled over to your area and you immediately sat to attention. “Easy,” she chuckled, grabbing her sleeping shorts and a tank top.

Carol had her back to you as she changed, apparently unbothered by your gaze, letting you note the way her back muscles and shoulders flexed as she stripped herself of her clothes and into fresh ones. It was different having your owner not acknowledge you when they were out of clothes. A lot of Carol was different to the others, you just didn’t realise it was because she didn’t consider herself your owner.

“Do you want to sleep there?” She asked as she pointed to the crate. You understood the gesture and made your way over to the crate without being able to communicate that you would rather sleep elsewhere. The box was too small, something that provided comfort when you were unsure of the new environment, but since discovering that it lacked any threats, you seeked out the space that was at your fingertips.

Unfortunately, Carol couldn’t have known any of this and simply watched with a bemused smile as you dragged the blanket half way out of the crate so that you could stretch your legs out past the curtain. As the blonde got herself comfortable in her own bed, she continued to glance your way every time the curtain shifted until you opted to turn around completely and settle with your head outside the crate where you could keep Carol in your view.

“Comfortable?” She threw you another blanket despite the ship being a suitable temperature and you didn’t hesitate to bundle it up to use it as a pillow, still looking at her through sleepy eyes. Once she bid you goodnight and turned over, you let the waves of exhaustion wash over. It was the first time in as long as you could remember that it felt safe to do so.

Boredom was not something that had come to you in a long time. Usually, your empty moments were ruined with fear and anticipation for what was to come, but the safety and assurance you felt on Carol’s ship had gradually put your mind at ease enough to let those quiet moments be tempted by curiosity. Carol was a busy woman, always on the lookout for issues she would have to deal with. It left you unoccupied enough to let that initial hesitation be surpassed. You couldn’t live in fear forever.

You had been with the Captain for several days, the pair of you falling into a routine you were becoming accustomed to. She woke up first and prepared breakfast for you both, telling you all about the latest news from across the galaxy that you didn’t really understand. Whilst she would work, you would tentatively explore more and more of the ship you were temporarily living in, curious at the possessions Carol owned and the technology her ship possessed. The only reason you had the confidence to do so was the encouraging smile the blonde sent your way every time she saw you venturing further around her home. But it wasn’t a large home and there was only so much for you to entertain yourself with before you needed something different.

You perched yourself onto the floor next to the stool Goose was sitting on, still not keen on sitting on furniture. You held your hand out to the flerken who nuzzled into your knuckles affectionately, then glanced up at the Captain and wandered over to her side.

“We’ll be in Earth’s orbit in a few days,” she told you, bringing up an image of New Asgard again. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t want to leave, so you looked away. “I know it might be scary to move again, but they’ll take good care of you,” Carol said, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. The contact was unexpected, but you liked it. You met Carol’s unsure eyes and responded by resting your head against her leg, nuzzling into the soft fabric of her sweatpants slightly once you realised how gentle it felt on your skin. Carol was taken aback by the act, feeling a tenderness overcome her at the contact. She smiled to herself when you opted to stay put for a few moments longer. She didn’t have much contact with other humans herself and she didn’t realise how much she needed it until you offered it to her.

“You need a bath,” Carol broke the silence by saying. You pulled away and scrunched your nose up at her, making the blonde chuckle. “Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she insisted.

You watched as she walked off down the corridor and heard her start the taps in the bath. You remained stubbornly fixed to that stop on the floor until a faint smell of flowers travelled through the corridor. Following your nose, you wandered through to the bathroom where the sizable tub was soon filling with bubbles. It did look tempting.

“You wanna get in?” She asked with a knowing smile. You nodded. “Lets get those clothes off of you then,” she continued as she gently pulled the clothes off of your body and into a pile on the floor. You had been wearing the same clothes since she had given them to you because you hadn’t gotten them dirty and she was cautious of making you uncomfortable by stripping you too often. To her surprise, you didn’t react to her taking the clothes because your attention was fixed on the growing mountain in the tub. She chuckled and encouraged you in with a hand to the back.

Unfortunately for you, the tub was too high and you found the task of hiking your legs over steadily to be of some difficulty when you considered how you could slip on the other side. Fortunately, Carol’s strength was more than ample to lift you into the tub herself, something that made you smile fondly at her. You liked how strong she was, because you were learning that she wouldn’t use it against you, only as aid.

Once you were submerged in the bath, Carol brought over the flannel and soaked it in the water before ringing it out and bringing it up to your face. “Hold still,” she chuckled when you playfully darted away, stopping when you felt how warm and refreshing the cloth was against you. You allowed Carol to continue washing your body tenderly, humming softly to herself as she did so. She made the occasional comment about the different places she had acquired the unique soaps and you listened intently, wondering if she would ever show those places to you.

To her credit, Carol cleaned you thoroughly, using her soaps, cleansers and some shampoo once she began finding her own comfort in the task. The warm, soapy water felt just as good on her own skin as it did over you and there was a certain fulfilment in the way she was able to handle and aid you. She especially enjoyed massaging the shampoo into your hair and the small content noise it brought out in you. You both could have stayed there for much longer.

Once you were sitting on the bath mat next to the tub, Carol wrapped you up in a heated towel to stop you getting cold and did the same for your hair, effectively cocooning you snuggly. You didn’t like the hair dryer, she learnt, but not so much that you struggled too much against her when she began to use it. You sat obediently with a displeased look upon your face that was soon changed when you were dressed into a clean pair of Carol’s clothes.

“Did you enjoy that?” The Captain asked as she crouched in front of you. You smiled at her and nuzzled into her shoulder affectionately, making the blonde chuckle. “Me too,” she admitted. “We'll have to get another one in before you go.” Carol hadn’t expected to feel so disappointed as the words left her, but it was clear a part of her wanted you to stay. But by letting you stay, surely she was no better than the people who had taken you in the first place?

“Let's get some food,” she said to distract herself. You followed promptly behind her and stayed that way for the majority of the day as well as the ones that came after. Whenever Carol was working, you would sit or lay by her feet, content to feel her tower over you in a way that seemed to block the rest of the world out. When she cooked, you sat to the side and watched with eager eyes and a growling stomach. When she took some time to unwind and watch some tv, you listened out for her chuckles with soft anticipation.

With you becoming so used to seeking out a close proximity to the blonde, nighttime was hard. You didn’t like the crate anymore, even with all of the blankets and sweaters you had stuffed inside. It wasn’t enough and it was lonely, so one night you ventured out to her bed.

As you peered at Carol’s sleeping form, you frowned at the small lights that were attached to her temple. She didn’t look happy to have them on, despite being asleep. She was restless and a crease was permanently embedded between her brows. You didn’t like to see her like that and wondered if the device on her was hurting her, so you scrambled into her bed and patted the device. Carol awoke with a start, eyes locking on your as she panted heavily. She was scared. You had never seen her scared before.

You whined, high in your chest, and burrowed yourself into Carol’s chest, nuzzling your head against her wildly beating heart. The blonde froze at first, still recovering from her nightmares until your efforts appeared to smother her terrors because you pressed yourself so firmly against her. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up her body until your face was between her neck and shoulder and you took the cue to settle yourself there as you held her.

“Hey,” Carol whispered once her heart finally returned to its resting rate. She brought a hand up to your hair and began to absently comb her fingers through, wanting to feel you in your entirety. It soothed her to no end, she realised, and it was something she would soon have to give up. You would be in Earth’s orbit by the morning. She didn’t want you to go, so she held onto you tighter as her chest pulsed with the thought that you wouldn’t be there the next night.

Did that have to be the case? She wasn’t hurting you or manipulating you or exploiting you. She was caring for you, something that very few would be able to do as much as she could. Even if she took you to New Asgard, there would be no one on one connections like she had formed with you because they would all be too busy for that.

You had found solace with her, who was to say you would be able to find it elsewhere? With someone who could care for and protect you as well as she could? What if by sending you away, she was ridding you of the only home you would ever truly have?

“Do you want to stay here with me?” Carol asked. You held her tighter and tenderly brushed your lips against her neck. “Me too,” she told you with a relieved smile.

Her mind was made, your home was with her.

#marvel #dark!marvel #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel

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book--brackets · 2 months

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The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien (1937)

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. Written for J.R.R. Tolkien’s own children, The Hobbit met with instant critical acclaim when it was first published in 1937. Now recognized as a timeless classic, this introduction to the hobbit Bilbo Baggins, the wizard Gandalf, Gollum, and the spectacular world of Middle-earth recounts of the adventures of a reluctant hero, a powerful and dangerous ring, and the cruel dragon Smaug the Magnificent.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan (2005-2009)

Percy Jackson is a good kid, but he can't seem to focus on his schoolwork or control his temper. And lately, being away at boarding school is only getting worse - Percy could have sworn his pre-algebra teacher turned into a monster and tried to kill him. When Percy's mom finds out, she knows it's time that he knew the truth about where he came from, and that he go to the one place he'll be safe.

She sends Percy to Camp Half Blood, a summer camp for demigods (on Long Island), where he learns that the father he never knew is Poseidon, God of the Sea. Soon a mystery unfolds and together with his friends—one a satyr and the other the demigod daughter of Athena - Percy sets out on a quest across the United States to reach the gates of the Underworld (located in a recording studio in Hollywood) and prevent a catastrophic war between the gods.

The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien (1954-1955)

In a sleepy village in the Shire, a young hobbit is entrusted with an immense task. He must make a perilous journey across Middle-earth to the Cracks of Doom, there to destroy the Ruling Ring of Power - the only thing that prevents the Dark Lord's evil dominion.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis (1950-1956)

Four adventurous siblings—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie— step through a wardrobe door and into the land of Narnia, a land frozen in eternal winter and enslaved by the power of the White Witch. But when almost all hope is lost, the return of the Great Lion, Aslan, signals a great change . . . and a great sacrifice.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1943)

The Little Prince is a classic tale of equal appeal to children and adults. On one level it is the story of an airman's discovery, in the desert, of a small boy from another planet - the Little Prince of the title - and his stories of intergalactic travel, while on the other hand it is a thought-provoking allegory of the human condition.

The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini (2002-2011, 2023)

When fifteen-year-old Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy. But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon soon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire itself.

Overnight his simple life is shattered, and, gifted with only an ancient sword, a loyal dragon, and sage advice from an old storyteller, Eragon is soon swept into a dangerous tapestry of magic, glory, and power. Now his choices could save--or destroy--the Empire.

Time Quintet by Madeleine L'Engle (1962-1989)

It was a dark and stormy night; Meg Murry, her small brother Charles Wallace, and her mother had come down to the kitchen for a midnight snack when they were upset by the arrival of a most disturbing stranger.

Wild nights are my glory, the unearthly stranger told them. I just got caught in a downdraft and blown off course. Let me sit down for a moment, and then I'll be on my way. Speaking of ways, by the way, there is such a thing as a tesseract.

Folk of the Air by Holly Black (2018-2020)

Of course I want to be like them. They're beautiful as blades forged in some divine fire. They will live forever.

And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest. I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.

Jude was seven years old when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King.

To win a place at the Court, she must defy him--and face the consequences.

In doing so, she becomes embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, discovering her own capacity for bloodshed. But as civil war threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab (2020)

France, 1714: In a moment of desperation, a young woman named Adeline meets a dangerous stranger and makes a terrible mistake.

As she realizes the limitations of her Faustian bargain-being able to live forever, without being able to be remembered by anyone she sees- Addie chooses to flee her small village, as everything she once held dear is torn away.

But there are still dreams to be had, and a life to live, and she is determined to find excitement and satisfaction in the wide, beckoning world-even if she will be doomed to be alone forever.

Or not quite alone-as every year, on her birth-day, the alluring Luc comes to visit, checking to see if she is ready to give up her soul. Their darkly thrilling game stretches through the ages, seeing Addie witness history and fight to regain herself as she crosses oceans and tries on various lives.

It will be three hundred years before she stumbles into a hidden bookstore and discovers someone who can remember her name-and suddenly, everything changes again.

Circe by Madeline Miller (2018)

the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child—not obviously powerful like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power—the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts, and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur; Daedalus and his doomed son, Icarus; the murderous Medea; and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from or the mortals she has come to love.

#best fantasy book #poll #the hobbit #percy jackson #lord of the rings #the chronicles of narnia #the little prince #the inheritance cycle #time quintet #folk of the air #the invisible life of addie larue #circe

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christian-oc-tournament · 4 months

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Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Doctor Victor P. Henley [Empire Reimagined—-a Star Wars au series @musewrangler]

This man is always the smartest person in the room. No no. THE SMARTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM. Ahem. That singular eyebrow raise that Henley gives has been known to reduce medical interns and junior doctors to floods of tears. There is thus a reason that Lord Vader chose Henley as his personal physician. This Doctor has no karks to give---even for a Dark Lord of the Sith [ESPECIALLY for a Dark Lord of the Sith] and voices his opinion, medical or otherwise, whenever he wishes. Ultimately however, he is also loyal down to his molecular structure and shows that he cares about the crew of the Executor by giving them the best doctor in the galaxy. [Himself, in case that wasn't clear]

Dhrake Jaysquer [Dhrake trilogy @secretariatess]

Dhrake (pronounced 'thrake') Jaysquer is the result of an intergalactic relationship- a mother from Earth and a father from Kaotack. Unfortunately, it was not a happy union, and Dhrake very soon found himself on his own taking care of his much younger sister at a young age, until she passed away before she turned ten. He was discovered by a shadow government, who took advantage of his lonely and attachment-less situation and honed the magic skills he had started in order to make him their best and most terrifying eraser. He liked the rather uncomplicated lifestyle he had, with being tormented by a raven he named Cora, sliding around on the wooden floorboards of his small apartment, staring up at the stars at night, and terrorizing the kitchens of his workplace between doing the dirty work of the shadow government. However, a case starts unraveling his carefully hidden emotions and forces him to confront his line of work, pushing him to change from cold blooded killer to something more Human.

#christian oc tournament #round 1 #group 3 left side

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alexanderwales · 1 day

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I think my problem when I try to make a kitchen sink setting is that I always try to pull it in the direction of plausibility, which usually means reducing scope, and that's not how most kitchen sink settings work.

So I want aliens, but I think "okay, there was a colony ship launched toward Earth ages ago, only to find that there are humans here, and only 10% of the aliens can survive Earth's atmosphere with the others needing to stay on the ship or wear gas masks". And I think this is a neat idea that I can flesh out and work with, like maybe those 10% of aliens are engineered, or maybe there's a class divide between those who can live on Earth and those who can't or whatever.

But this isn't really how you build a kitchen sink. You don't just have one type of rigidly defined alien, you have a dozen of them, a whole implied alien intergalactic scene going on.

And it's that way for everything, there's not just "magic" as a single well-defined system, there are nineteen different types of magic, wizards and druids and sorcerers and witches and shamans and whatever else, at least in a traditional kitchen sink setting.

I'm not sure what to call this smaller, more robust kitchen sink setting, the kind where there's just one kind of magic, just one species of alien, a specific Fairy Court. We're including all the genres, but just small slices of them.

(I think the desire to do a kitchen sink comes from some perverse postmodern instinct, or maybe just maximalism, but I don't think that it substantially improves the kind of world I would actually want to write in more than taking a single kernel of an idea and then magnifying it to infinity.)

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alittlebitofloveliness · 2 months

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I like Paul Holden/Darry as exes but also people don’t know the intergalactic avengers level threat preteens can be. Sure Ponyboy is a wimp but he’s a book nerd. Do you know the sheer amount of wild shit he would say to Paul if they tried to rekindle their relationship.

I love them as exes, couldn't see them ever getting back together (some rifts CANNOT be fixed i speak from experience) but this would be such a funny dynamic.

Paul: *doing the lame yawn as excuse to put his arm around Darry*

Pony, watching from the kitchen: *sighs* we'll all be dead so soon

Paul: what?

Pony: I said what I said

Paul: ????

Pony: and I'll make sure you go out first

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #paul holden

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squishysoftmonsters · 1 year

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Triggers : Sexual Content/Themes [Mature +18 Minors/Ageless DNI]

💚TD Master Post💚

💚Stranger as it can get! 💚

You were still asleep with the alien,in the spoon position,his rainbow penis still inside. Homesick,as traveling to another planet on your own is scary,but finding this cat boy was a blessing,in a weird way. You slowly awoke,trying not wake your friend.

Looking out the window while rubbing your eyes,the said creature producing this sound to signify morning on this planet,a rooster with bulging eyes. It's wake up sound was the combined screech of a chimpanzee and hooting owl.

You : [groggily] What the..

Alien : [yawning] Just a few more minutes..

You : That creepy chimpanzee owl is staring at me! Shoo!

However,the strange rooster continued to stare as you covered yourself,finally walking away once you tied the robe. Gently you roused your alien friend as he further curled into the quilt you both shared.

You : You have to wake. I don't know my way around here.

Alien : [groans] Okay.

He removed the covers and sat up,his john unsheathed now yellow and hard. Your eyes unknowingly drifting to it,feeling your face flush.

Alien : [groans]Yeah..Waking up hard is daily for me..

You chortled

You : [chortles]Put that thing away.

Alien : [dramatically] The cup monsters have sapped my penis powers..And only a kiss could restore it. Is there anyone willing?

He played dead and you laughed at him as he opened an eye to see if you'd budge. You knelt down,putting it against your face.

You : Just once.

You began massaging it.

Alien : I said a kiss! Wait!

Out of fear he tucked it back in.

You : [laughing] I knew I could make you put it away.

Alien : You see,the thing about my kind is when we nut..Its run over a full mayonaise bottle mess.

You : Can you show me?

You bit your lip and began tracing his genital slit and sticking your tongue inside to stimulate him,hoping he'd unsheath it again.

Alien : [nervously]Pretty sure there's a mini game or ride that lets us jizz for prizes. I mean,this IS Horny Disneyland. Anything is possible.

The Alien went to go shower,for another day of Otherworldly Disneyland's rides and attractions. He was whistling Dies Irae while showering,you leaning by the door enjoying how perfectly it came out from his lips.

You joined him in the shower of course.

Alien : [purrs]Look who came in to join me,someone very dirty. Come here. [growls]

His sudsy body against yours,he began to wash you from behind,massaging your body with the honey smelling soap while kissing your neck. A brief huff came from your lips his endowment slithering into you,gentle rocks following after,and a gasp feeling the tenderness of his fingers and hands over your chest.

The thought of "Im having sex with an oversized cat" stood fast in the walls of your mind,the deeper he went. Even though you barely knew him,you liked being with him

His purrs rippled through your neck as your bodies now mushed against the shower wall. You became crosseyed in between drooling and huffing once he picked up the pace on his rocks,tapping your insides perfectly,body trembling and shivering in delight.

Walking around naked was normal and getting hard rawed into the afterlife by intergalactic cats at any time was also normal. So you'd probably tell your parents you're moving out when you return to Earth.

Forget time to wake up for school. Time to wake and get pounded. Nothing like getting your holes pumped on the kitchen floor and running with extraterrestrial jizz in the morning. You moan,gasp and scream for more as the rocks became thrusts,thrusts making you weak,slowly falling onto the anti slip mat bent over..

Alien : [purring] Do you like it?

You : [breathlessly] Yes..

It was like the heavens opened up and the gods above came to take you away,feeling two other penises fit inside your waiting gape. Bent over doggy style,you didnt want this moment to end.

In the haze,your friend had two tails,these two tails deep inside,pleasuring you to the brink of no return. Feeling like a keg ready to blow at the climax of happiness,You cried aloud in orgasm,he behind yours. Through the vent you heard a woman doing just about the same. Apparently rubbing one out in the hotel bathrooms was normal here too. You panted and gasped,exhausted as bioluminescent jizz ran down your back.

Awhile after a good rest..A normal shower began. Both washed,teeth brushed,robed and ready for more of Twisted Disneyland's offers.

You : What was..[blushes]

Alien : Uh yeah..that. Let's leave that alone.

You : But..

Alien : [clears throat]

You : We should uh

The lady who had an intimate session walked past you and your friend. Both you and the Alien now outside..

Alien : There HAS to be a jizz for prizes ride.

You nudged your friend.

You : Is that pineapple the mini game?

Alien : That's not exactly a pineapple..With a name like The Mandingo Shake Shack I'm sure that's the mini game.

You both took quite a walk to the huge questionable pineapple structure. Your friend could'nt translate the instructions for you as he was laughing so hard.

You : [chortling] What's so funny?

Alien : [catching his breath] The instructions says,how big of a dick shake can you serve to these lucky men and women given 20 minutes?

You : [laughter] What?!

Alien : [laughing]This is the jizz game I was talking about earlier.

You felt yourself blush.

You : Oh my god... I can try..

You both went in,and the coordinator of the game was speaking..

Coordinator : The aim of this mini game is to simply serve your shake to our taste testers. They're snipped and tied,so no pregnancies.. You're rewarded based on how you taste.

The woman who had a moment was well endowed,and she blew a kiss at you. Several other competitors had joined.

And the contest began after you removed your robes. Your friend fainted after 10. The female competitor fell down after 13. Others fell after 6. You managed 8,but the last one missed the cup and slathered the testers. There were murmurs among the judges..

They were tasting.. The female alien got a 9.5. Your friend a 9,and were still debating on the taste of yours. You got a 10 as the best tasting.

You : Me? [blushes]

Coordinator : You're the winner! Now pick your prize.

The prizes were the weird animals that you saw upon entering the planet. You chose the three headed rattlesnake with 3 sets of eyes on each head while everyone clapped and cheered for you as you hugged your prize. You both washed up and put your robes back on.

You : [giggles] Weird but fun.

Alien : Whacking it off to fine judges..yes.

You giggled in the crook of his neck

Alien : You're gonna get some really out of the ordinary games and rides here..believe me.

You : What's the next ride?

You hid your face in your friend's neck,hearing orgasms and messy squelches.

You : [muffled]It has something to do with genitals doesnt it..

Alien : ..The Thumper. Dear god,they sure like stretching people out..The rules are,how long can you ride or hump one before you nut..

You started laughing.

You : [giggles] Excuse you??

Alien : [chortles] Look.

The ride was exactly that...So how long can one go?Without nutting?

How long can you exactly go?

#monster fucker #squishylovers #smut imagine #monster smut #alien romance #alien x human #alien fucker #monster lover #monster romance #transgender

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begaycommittreason · 9 months

Text

jars i think members of the batfam have to put money in (some more than others)

unspeakable violence jar

taught damian incorrect usage of pop culture jar

taught bruce incorrect usage of pop culture jar

haven’t left their room in over 36 hours jar

haven’t stopped working in 3 days jar

broke an antique jar jar

attempted to murder tim jar

attempted murder period jar

publicly slandered family members jar

leaked classified government files jar

spitefully acted gay with their kryptonian around their single siblings jar

tattled on their siblings to vicky vale jar

publicly slandered rogues and got subsequently attacked by them jar

engaged in psychological warfare jar

caused a scandal at a wayne gala jar

gave damian coal for christmas jar

publicly endorsed superbat jar

attempted to become a villain jar

made faces standing behind bruce or tim at a press conference jar

set the kitchen on fire jar

superhero team caused an intergalactic incident jar

got in a fight on national television jar

gave bruce a new gray hair jar (they take pride in this one)

spoke to the press at all (derogatory)

held a slumber party somewhere inappropriate (ie. batcave, watchtower, rogues lair, metropolis, etc.) jar

disowned members of the family while in public jar

faked death ‘for the bit’ jar

leaked your brothers false death certificate to the press because they ate the last poptart jar

used the batmobile for joyriding jar

had unsanctioned contact with aliens jar

#all of these jars get monthly deposits #all the ones that say publicly mean that bruce gave up on penalizing them in the house #the list goes on #pls continue it #every month on this app i just make one big list and ppl go crazy for it #batfam #batfamily #dc #batman #swear jar

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kybercrystals94 · 3 months

Text

Local Flavors

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 5 | "You're a bad liar." | "Need a hand?"

Rated: G | Words: 1733 | Summary: Domestic living has a learning curve.

Hunter stares at the basket of small, glass canisters, each filled with some kind of crushed plant or seed. He hopes the bewilderment he feels isn’t evident in his expression when he looks up at the woman, their immediate neighbor to the west, Kyly. “Thank you,” he says.

Kyly grins at him. “You don’t know what they are, do you?”

Hunter considers lying, but he considers a moment too long for it to be convincing. “No,” he admits.

“They’re seasonings,” Kyly says, as though that simply explains it.

It doesn’t.

“Ah,” Hunter says anyway.

Kyly rolls her eyes. “For cooking. For flavor.” She starts sorting through the bottles, rattling off the meaningless names of each. That’s when Hunter notices they are labeled in pretty, decorative font…probably hand written by Kyly herself.

“Let me know if you need any help figuring out what to use with what,” Kyly concludes with a charming, toothy smile. She wiggles her fingers when she waves goodbye, and walks away, disappearing around the corner.

A snicker behind him makes Hunter’s face and ears burn.

“Making friends, are we?” Crosshair asks. “Pretty friends.”

“Knock it off, Cross. Kyly just brought us a housewarming gift,” Hunter mutters, turning and shouldering past his brother to deposit the basket of seasonings on the kitchen counter.

Crosshair plucks one of the bottles from the basket, holds it up and shakes it. “What the kriff is this stuff?”

“Seasoning,” Hunter says. “For cooking.”

Crosshair manages to screw off the lid one handed, sniffing at the contents suspiciously. He makes a face. “I do not want this on my food.”

Hunter snatches it away from him. “You wouldn’t know good flavor if it bit you in the shebs,” Hunter says. He doesn’t mention that he can smell the seasoning in question without lifting it to his nose, nor does he admit that it doesn’t smell appetizing. Instead, he screws the lid on tight and puts the questionable seasoning aside.

“And you do?” Crosshair snarks back. “Maybe you should take Kyly up on her cooking lessons.”

Hunter rolls his eyes. “It isn’t intergalactic science. I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“You do that,” Crosshair says with an annoying smirk Hunter wants to slap off his face.

Crosshair must sense the threat, good soldier that he is, and slips through the front door before Hunter does anything drastic.

***

Omega and Wrecker return from the docks as the usual time for evening meal approaches. As they approach the house, Omega sniffs at the air. “Do you smell that?”

Wrecker takes a deep breath through his nose, carefree expression crumbling into a look of utter disgust. “It smells like something died.”

“That stench is dinner.” Crosshair slinks out from behind the house, arms crossed with a pleased look on his face.

Wrecker and Omega exchanged horrified glances.

“What happened to it?” Omega asks.

Crosshair flashes her a feral grin. “Hunter.”

Wrecker gapes. “How?

“Oh, I assure you he took great care in destroying every semblance of edibility,” Crosshair says.

Omega makes a face. “Hunter wouldn’t ruin food on purpose.”

“He’s trying to impress our neighbor by using the housewarming gift she brought this afternoon,” Crosshair says loftily, leaning against the railing of the front porch. “Problem is, he doesn't know kark about seasonings.”

“Hey, language,” Wrecker grumbles.

Omega, unfazed, clasps her hands together. “You mean Kyly?”

“Yep,” Crosshair says, popping the ‘p’ with finality.

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Omega coos, but another waft of clashing flavors drifts by, and her demeanor crumbles. “Maybe we should ask her how to use them instead of just…”

Crosshair huffs. “I tried to tell him that.” He pokes Omega in the forehead. “It's your turn.”

“Me?” Omega squeaks. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings!”

“You think I do?” Crosshair asks.

Omega narrows her eyes. “It hasn’t stopped you from telling him anything before.”

Crosshair shrugs, conceding the point.

“Well, one of us has to tell him,” Wrecker groans. “Otherwise, we’re never gonna eat anything good ever again.”

“Be our guest, Wrecker,” Crosshair says. “Break a poor man’s heart.”

Wrecker balks. “He has to know. I mean, can’t he smell it? What’s the point of enhanced senses if you can’t smell what you’re cooking?”

“As hard as it is to believe, Hunter isn’t perfect,” Crosshair retorts.

Omega’s shoulders sag. “Fine. I’ll tell him.”

***

The moment they walk in the door, Hunter is on them. “Just in time for late meal,” he says cheerfully.

Omega’s resolve melts like an ice cone in the late afternoon sun.

Crosshair gives her shoulder a nudge, and Omega subtly shakes her head. Her youngest brother sighs. “You said…”

“Shh,” Omega hisses.

They sit down at the table. Some sort of dish is displayed in the middle.

“It’s called a casserole,” Hunter tells them. “I found the recipe on the holonet.”

“Did you follow it?” Crosshair asks.

Omega kicks his shin under the table.

“What’s in it?” Wrecker eyes the food like it’s a coiled snake about to strike.

Hunter lists off the ingredients. “There were measurements, but we don’t have measuring spoons. Any seasonings we didn’t have, I substituted for ones that looked the same color and texture.”

“Maker, help us,” Crosshair breathes.

Omega takes a deep breath. Maybe it will taste better than it smells. Bravely, she wraps a fist around the serving spoon and scoops a generous helping of casserole onto her plate. She has to bite her cheek from grimacing at the reek that curls up in rolling steam.

She is surprised when Crosshair follows her example next, then Wrecker. Hunter serves himself last.

Then they sit in loud silence, waiting for someone else to try it first. Finally, Wrecker picks up his fork, spears the prongs into the casserole, and takes a bite. Omega and Crosshair watch him carefully, waiting for the facial contortion soon to follow the courageous act. Wrecker barely chews, swallowing with a gulp.

“Mmmm,” he says, but his eye twitches.

Hunter frowns, looks down at his own plate for a moment, then takes a huge bite. His eyes widen before he spits the mouthful out into his napkin. “It’s awful!”

“It’s not that bad,” Wrecker says.

Hunter casts him a withering look. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Crosshair heaves a heavy sigh, shoving his plate across the table. “In his defense, you should have known it was terrible before either of you took a bite.”

“What are you talking about?” Hunter asks, looking genuinely confused.

“Can’t you smell it? It smells terrible…Wrecker thought something died when he and Omega got back to the house…and they spent the day at the docks,” Crosshair says. Omega tries to catch Crosshair’s eye, tries to signal him to shut up, but Crosshair successfully misses every cue thrown his way as he adds, “I bet Kyly could smell it from her house.”

Hunter looks mortified. “And you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you say something before I kriffing served it?” He stands up and begins gathering the plates, dumping the untouched casserole back into the dish. He gives a sharp whistle, and Batcher comes bounding into the dining area, a place she is normally forbidden. “Here, girl. Got something special for you,” Hunter says, putting the dish on the ground.

Batcher snuffles at it loudly before slowly backing away.

Omega can’t help the snort of laughter that bubbles up, and she claps both hands over her mouth to try and stifle it. She doesn’t dare make eye contact with Wrecker or Crosshair.

“Well,” Hunter mutters, “looks like we’ll be eating in the market tonight.”

***

The next morning, Omega knocked on Kyly’s door. The woman answered immediately. “Omega! What a pleasant surprise. I was just making morning tea. Please, please, won’t you join me?”

Before Omega could answer one way or another, she was pulled inside and guided to a lovely little table covered in a crocheted cloth and a vase stuffed full of wild island flowers. Kyly left to the kitchen and returned with another cup and saucer and placed them at the other seat.

“Do you take cream or sugar?” Kyly asks, sitting down across from Omega and pouring the hot, aromatic beverage into Omega’s delicate cup.

Omega admires the thin curving teacup, so different from the thick mugs her brothers drank caf from each morning. “I like both, please,” Omega says.

Kyly drops two large lumps of sugar and a generous splash of cream. Omega carefully imitates Kyly in stirring the tea with a spoon, the soft tink, tink, tink sounding absolutely musical.

“Now, what can I do for you?” Kyly asks.

“I wanted to thank you for the seasonings you brought yesterday,” Omega says. She takes a careful sip of tea and is pleasantly surprised by its mild, sweet flavor.

Kyly smiles. “I grew the herbs in my garden and dried them myself. Have you gotten to try any of them yet?”

“Hunter used some last night,” Omega admits carefully. “I’m not sure we know how to use them…properly. We grew up on rations and formulated meals from Kamino. We don’t have a lot of experience being–” Omega searches for the proper word.

“Domestic?” Kyly supplies.

Omega grins.

“Perhaps,” Kyly says slowly, “I might be able to lend a hand.”

***

“I need your help,” Omega says, standing in Hunter’s doorway.

Hunter is towling his hair dry after washing up from his morning and afternoon spent down on the docks with his brothers. He glances at his sister. “With what?”

“Late meal,” Omega chirps happily, bouncing on her toes.

Hunter levels her an unamused glare. “Hard pass.”

“Ah, c’mon, Hunter,” Omega says. “I promise it will turn out better than last night.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hunter deadpans.

“Kyly told me this recipe is Hunter-proof,” Omega says, matching Hunter’s tone; however, her eyes are glittering with stark amusement.

Burning embarrassment scorches up Hunter’s neck and across his face. “Kyly said that?”

“Well,” Omega amends gleefully, “maybe she didn’t say Hunter-proof.”

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Fine. But if this goes wrong, we’re blaming you. I can only be responsible for one botched supper a week.”

“Fine by me,” Omega says, shrugging one shoulder and grinning at him.

Hunter huffs and follows his giggling sister into the kitchen.

***

That night, when a hearty fish stew tastes every bit as wonderful as it smells, Omega gives Hunter all the credit.

END

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