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#The Near Jazz Experience
burlveneer-music · 3 months
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The Near Jazz Experience - Live In London - delighted to find this "near-jazz" group with roots in The Higsons is still going
Recorded live at Daylight Music for the EFG London Jazz Festival and at Pizza Express, Holborn The NJE Mark Bedford - bass guitar, FX, samples, shaker Simon Charterton - drums, wavedrum, percussion Terry Edwards - horns, melodica, maracas Tracks 1-3, 7-11 recorded by Justin Smith @ Pizza Express, Holborn Tracks 4-6 & 12 recorded by Neil Bowermen @ Daylight Music for the EFG London Jazz Festival. Post production - Terry Edwards
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witchofthesouls · 1 year
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Undercover jazz sounds fab if you ever Drabble I will read and love. Recently found your blog and I’m in love. That’s for being cool
(Aww thank you, anon! Here you go!)
"I don't believe you."
"What," he knew you wouldn't enjoy the truth, but he doesn't expect complete denial of the details lining up.
To be honest, Jazz didn't expect any of this. Not you on Earth. Not you caught in the recent battle. Not you rounded by his own bit in your forge.
You shrug, wrapping the sheet tighter, covering the swell of your midsection. He wonders if anyone else stepped up because you look dull with such a rounded belly. Strange, considering the close presence of Seekerkin...
Alright. Plan C then.
He shifts his weight. Looking careless as he tilts his helm to the side, arms crossed and leaning on a wall, his voice carries low and only between you and him.
"You're so good with your hands that you were an Underspeaker," and those red optics brighten but you say nothing at the words. "I clanged you over a bartop and finished in the alley to stop some thugs from taking advantage of a "claimed" 'con."
Your face is carved from steel, so he goes for the kill by activating the private comm.
:: You had a wild petrorabbit as a sparkling and you nursed it back to health. You cried when it went missing, but you knew what happened when your creators scraped together a hot meal for you and refused to look into your face. It was the most delicious thing you had for vorns and you still remember the taste of Quickjack. ::
There's that soft, sharp inhale, and your optics shutter. It's the same vulnerable look he'd seen when he woke up on a ledge off of Volpex to you hanging over him. The ship had malfunctioned and you plugged his systems from bleeding dry. There was no surety there would be a search party, so you and Ricochet told little, meaningless secrets in the dark...
"Nice try," you snap. "But it isn't going to work. Rico's got a cruel streak-" You're not wrong. Ricochet is one of his bloodthirster folders, "-so I'm not surprised you and him talk."
His brows are raised beneath the visor. Not quite right, but not totally wrong. Jazz and Ricochet (and so many covers with slivers of himself) are the same mech. "And why's that, sweetspark?"
"Simple." You say with utter conviction and Jazz knows he's not going to like the reason. "You and Ricochet are split-spark. And everyone knows split-sparks are strange mecha onto themselves."
Jazz can't do anything but gape at you through the bars.
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subatomicskud · 3 months
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Upgrading to new headphones: wow the sound quality of these are amazing! You can actually hear the twinge of fear in the singers voice as they're about to record the first song of their debut album.
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DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick
Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.
Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:
Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.
And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.
Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.
Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”
Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.
There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.
~~~~~~
Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.
The local birds:
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~~~~~~
Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.
Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.
~~~~~
Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.
Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.
Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?
Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.
~~~~~
Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.
Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.
Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.
Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.
Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.
Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.
~~~~~
Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.
~~~~~
Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.
Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream
~~~~~
Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.
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cookinguptales · 1 year
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You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.
So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.
But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.
The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.
It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.
This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."
And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.
Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.
I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.
This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.
And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.
Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.
Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.
So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?
And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.
They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.
If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.
If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."
But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.
Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.
If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.
What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.
Today I'm deleting podcasts.
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bucketofpaint · 5 months
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Dp x Dc Bad parents with a twist.
The Fentons find out about Danny being Phantom. Either from Vlad or just randomly. They take it badly. They think Phantom is possessing him, but they think they can "save" him. Unfortunately, the GIW think otherwise and want to destroy their son. So what do they do? They erase all signs of their existence in Amity and wiping every article and study they ever had on ghost. Then they packed up and moved to Gotham in the middle of the night. Cutting Danny off from his friends and Jazz (due to her being at college and disagreeing with them). Vlad and the Fentons become business partners. Publicly, the three work together making and marketing inventions. while privately trying to 'fix' Danny on the side.
Danny has to wear an upgraded specter deflector, which is a thin metal bracelet.
Having half of himself offline for a long period of time has been causing his physical health to decline. That and the experiments his parents have been performing on him. No full-blown vivisection. He also gets anesthesia because they believe the Danny can still feel.
It wasn't long for the people of Gotham to start to talk about Vlad Co's new business partners and their sickly son. It wasn't long after for Bruce Wayne to gain some interest as well.
The first time Bruce met the Fentons was at a gala with Masters introducing them. Jack, Maddie, and Their son. He was also able to observe that he looked more sickly in person. With deep eye bags, pale skin, and how thin he was. It made Bruce's heart ache thinking what the boy about Tim's age had been having to endure.
The conversation contuied. Danny nervously fidgeting, only giving curt responses. Mr Fenton laughed, joking about how Danny didn't like fancy events. He excused Danny, telling him to grab something to eat. Danny nodded and rushed away, grabbing food and settling down in a nestled in a far back conner.
Bruce continued talking to the enthusiastic pair, talking glances at the boy occasionally. He felt some of his tension relax when spotting Tim taking a seat near Danny.
After the gala Tim and Bruce got together and compared notes. They both came to one conclusion.
They needed to find out more.
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ekat-fandom-blog · 8 months
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Every day, there's an important event written on Danny's arm. Or, at least, his parents and Jazz say they're important. Danny was just happy to be getting to know his soulmate through the ever changing soulmark.
The event written on his arm was the most important thing to happen to his soulmate that day. They helped him understand what it meant when his mark told him that his soulmate learned they were never going to see his parents again. They worried with him when his arm said that his soulmate's uncle got rid of his soulmate. They got upset with him every time it said that they'd run away from foster care, every time it said that his soulmate was hurt by the foster families. They comforted him every time the soulmark on his arm told him that his soulmate almost died. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were there with him the day the mark on his arm said "Became Champion of Magic".
His soulmate stopped having near death experiences as often after that.
Billy had tried to check his mark every day, but most of the time it was rather bland. His soulmate had a very bland life. Other than the occasional "parents exploded something" or "got shoved in a locker" their life sounded amazing. He was kind of jealous. Not that he thought being bullied was easy or anything, but he didn't want to be homeless or in the shitty foster care system.
He became very worried when "dies" is written on his arm and is very confused when there continues to be more important events written on his arm after that.
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remlionheart · 2 months
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Split Decision
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *
*:・゚✧*:・゚ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:・゚✧*:・゚
You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.
You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.
The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.
You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.
It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.
That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.
Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.
You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.
A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.
"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."
A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"
Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.
The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."
The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.
You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.
You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.
After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.
They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.
Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.
But you weren't going to settle for either.
As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.
Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.
You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.
The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.
A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"
"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."
But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.
A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"
"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"
Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."
"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."
It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.
"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."
"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."
Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."
"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.
He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.
A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.
You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.
"My room or yours?" You asked.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.
Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.
You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.
He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.
There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"
You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.
"Fuck."
It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.
Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.
Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.
"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."
"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.
Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.
"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"
His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.
"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.
"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.
He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.
You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.
You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.
"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.
"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.
"Can you bend over f'me?"
You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.
Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.
"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"
As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."
Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.
He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.
Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
"Be easy on her," he warned him.
You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"
Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.
His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.
"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.
Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.
You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.
Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.
Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"
"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.
You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.
Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.
Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"
You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."
Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."
Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.
Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"
"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."
Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.
Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.
Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."
You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.
"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.
Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.
"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."
"Dazai, I swear to god -"
But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.
"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."
Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.
He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.
You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.
"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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nelkcats · 1 year
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Build a bear
Danny went to build his own teddy bear with his parents out of town, Jazz suggested that he could make them say they loved him and record it for life, which would help him when he went to college or finally decides to reveal himself to them, that idea reassured him more than it seemed.
His sister probably wanted him to have a "support bear" like her own, Bearbert, and honestly his old teddy bear was good enough, but maybe a new one with a love reminder would help.
Amity was a small town, so the build a bear shops weren't really there, at least he had found one near Jersey, it was a long drive but he was willing to convince his parents to go.
When they finally arrived at the location, using the excuse of a ghost infestation to lure them; he tried to make a recording of his parents love words but all he ends up recording is "Let's destroy that ectoplasmic scum, he's a threat" with a lot of little lengthy things about Phantom and what they would like to do to him, wich only made him sad.
The last thing that could be heard on the recording was "I just wanted them to tell me they loved me, to remember it when they tie me to that laboratory table" in frustration.
Danny decides to give up and puts the teddy back on the shelf, the manager looks at him sadly and he just pays for it, he did not wanted to cause the employee more trouble; at the end he went back to the GAV, empty-handed and trying to remind himself that his parents love him, even if their priorities are weird and misplaced.
Days later, the Waynes drag Damian into the same store, Damian grumbling the entire way that he didn't need kid's stuff.
While the demon boy complains about the uselessness of everything, Jason notices a green teddy bear, with a jumpsuit full of stars and a sign that says "Boo", it was obviously made to remind a ghost, and he was amused by the "dead" bear so he asked the manager the price, she denies and comments that it was already paid for, but the boy never took it.
More surprised than curious, Jason holds the bear in his arms, squeezing it, it was fluffy; that caused the last thing that was recorded to be played. His blood ran cold hearing what sound like a couple of crazy doctors preparing a vivisection, this in itself was terrible, but the worst part is that the boy's voice at the end, although a little damaged, implied that he was the experiment.
Reluctantly he decided to take the bear to his brothers, this is a mystery in the form of a teddy bear and they are not going to let it go. Even if it's not directly a cry for help, he recognizes incompetent parents and a dangerous situation when he sees one.
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thevoidstaredback · 26 days
Text
Danny smiled from his place on the clocktower roof. He'd been in Gotham for a while now, two years to the day exactly, but he'd never get tired of the view. Sure, he hated not being able to see the stars at night, but there were worse things. He did make sure to leave the city every night to see them, though.
He liked being up high. It reminded him of, not simpler times, but times when he wasn't as alone. Jazz had made her way to Harvard, Tucker was MIT, and Sam was at Pomona. Danny was nowhere.
They say after he turned fourteen, he died. It, to say the least, wasn't a pleasant or painless death, though it didn't hurt past the initial shock and revival. When he was sixteen, he realized he wasn't aging. Sure, Danny Fenton aged until he was sixteen, but Danny Phantom stopped at fourteen. Good for keeping a secret identity, but horrible for wanting to half live normally.
The day after he turned eighteen, exactly four years after he died, Danny disappeared. He left everything behind and hid out in the one place he'd always said he'd avoid. It was the one place no one would look for him. The one place where he was just another face in the crowd.
Gotham City allowed Danny the anonymity that normally came with death. Instead of just another headstone in the graveyard or a body in the harbor, though, he was just another kid on the streets in a busted hoodie and jeans. No one looked twice and no one asked questions.
In the two years he's spent on the streets of Gotham, he's learned a lot. Survival was something all humans are born with, but growing up with neglectful parents amplified that instinct. Dying and becoming an unwilling hero honed those instincts. Living in Gotham gave him a chance to learn more.
Learning the lay of the land was another thing he learned very quickly. Batman is over all of Gotham except for Crime Alley. That's Red Hood's haunt. Gotham Proper was split into blurry lines and shared between Batman and Robin, Red Robin, Orphan, and Spoiler. Nightwing is over Gotham's sister city, Bludhaven. Signal is the only day shift, so he had the most ground to cover in the least amount of time.
Of course, the Rouge's all had their own territories drawn with hard, barely flexible, lines. Black Mask was really the only one to breach those lines by trying to take Crime Alley, but Red Hood had been keeping him in check.
Learning the rules for each territory and how to interact with each person, Rouge or Vigilante, took time, but he managed. His own experiences had probably helped with that.
The next thing Danny had mapped out was where the neutral stations were. Every territory had them. They were places no one attacked because the important ones have standards. In Crime Alley, it's The Club. In Penguin's area, it's the Iceberg Lounge. Ivy marked off Robinson Park. Etcetera. The Joker is really the only major Rouge without a neutral mark on his map, but that's because he's more of an asshole than the rest. An asshole with standards, but an asshole nonetheless.
Very few of those neutral areas were available to spend the night in. Even fewer we're hiring. So, the homeless population of Gotham City stuck to the streets and back alleys.
However, there were two places Danny knew he could go where he'd be safe from scrutiny if someone looked too close at him. The Club in Crime Alley where all the working girls and boys checked in and reported any Bad Johns or Bad Janes, and The Iceberg Lounge in the richer parts of Gotham.
The clocktower was where Danny liked to spend his nights when the streets were too loud and the lights too bright and the fights too close for comfort. Oracle, who was Batman's eye in the sky and ear to the ground, worked from the clocktower, but he made sure to avoid her. It wasn't easy with what's basically super hearing that he can't turn off, but he found a spot near the very top where he could block out all Bat Business. Plausible deniability and all that.
Danny misses the stars. He misses being able to peek his head out of his bedroom window and name of each constellation he could see. He can't do that in Gotham because of the light pollution that clung to the sky like black mold. It was part of the reason he'd sworn to never go to Gotham.
There are Shades in Gotham. Shadows of people who have died but aren't quite ready to move on. He helps them as best he can, but there's so many that he sometimes feels like he's cutting off a Hydra's head. He gets to see results, though. Some days the parks are more colourful, the clouds have drifted enough to let natural sunlight through, and the graveyards are buzzing with thankful energy.
Danny forwent the thought of trying to get a job a while ago. As far as the world is concerned, Danny Fenton is missing, likely dead. Being dead, in case it wasn't well known, is a legal barrier. Sure, most jobs in Gotham didn't do background checks, but Danny didn't really want to join the Goonion. He's just fine living on the streets.
Ectoplasm is scarce compared to Amity Park, but that's to be expected. Besides, the miasma crushing the city like a weighted blanket was enough to sustain his basic abilities. Food was a bit harder to come by, but, like sleep, he could survive longer without it than a living being can. If anyone were to ever ask - though the likelihood of anyone even finding out - how he was alive, his answer was "Photosynthesis, but for ghosts."
Danny liked being just Danny. No name, no responsibilities outside of keeping himself alive.
Danny Fenton, the loser nerd who fell to the bottom of all his classes, who's obsessed with space and everything in it, who could tell you exactly how long it would take to get from Earth to Betelgeuse and back, is dead. He died the day after he turned fourteen.
Danny Phantom, the hatefully loved vigilante who appeared with the throngs of ghosts, who grew more powerful with every fight, who won more fights than he thought he could because there was no other option, is gone. He disappeared after exactly four years.
Danny just exists. He lives on the streets of Gotham City, staying away from trouble because he learned how to recognize it as soon as he could walk. He loves space and finds every opportunity he can to get out and watch the stars and moon and planets. He likes heights because being up that high reminds him of when he was living and not just surviving. Was there really a difference anymore? He hangs out in graveyards and the docks because the dead are so much more tolerable than the living.
Danny liked being just Danny because Danny doesn't have the world of Infinite Realms and Possabilities on his shoulder.
Danny likes to be able to just be for once.
Storyboard Part 2
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flamingpudding · 10 months
Text
Inherited Driving
A/N: Credits also to @escelia 💖 Thanks for helping flash out this idea even more!!
Bruce Wayne was going crazy about Gotham's newest rogue. He stared at the open case file, the reports were laid out all over the table. On the Batcomputer various images were displayed. Images from bent light posts, street sights that were found three blocks from their original position, buildings that were missing chunks of their walls, and even buildings that had distinct car-shaped holes.
Next to that various reports were open about hit-and-run cases. None appeared to be connected. All the victims appeared to be chosen at random, good or bad didn't matter. No connections. Mugger, Politicians, other rogues, or even his children when on patrol. And then there were also reports of apparently people going insane claiming they had seen a silver car come right at them but never hit them.
He looked at the reports of his children.
Jason complains about a drug deal busted by a car bursting in and nearly ruined it for him by knocking out the main targets before crashing through the opposite wall.
Tim claimed that the corrupted CEO he had been investigating both as Red Robin as well as Tim Drake-Wayne got run over on the open streets and was now hospitalized.
But the most absurd reports came from Dick and Duke.
Dick one night reported that a silver car barely missed him while out on patrol. Nothing strange so far. If his son hadn't reported that he was jumping over roofs when it happened.
And Duke? He just reported that he felt like he had a near-death experience and saw his life flashing before his eyes. The cause? A glowing car came straight at him.
Bruce gripped his hair in frustration. This new rogue didn't make sense. They went for bad guys but also good guys? What was their pattern? The connection? Their goal? Was he lucky that none of his other children had so far encountered them on patrol?
They appeared at night as well as during the day.
Who was going to be the next target? Would it be one of his kids or possibly another corrupted politician or maybe even a mugger again next?
Tim had specifically created software to keep track of this rogue in the news or any online posts. Barbara was not able to get any video feeds or photos of this rogue for some reason. All images or videos found for the areas of his appearance were either entirely static or corrupted to the point of unrecognizability. He didn't even have the damned silver car's license plate!
Then there was the car driver's description from witnesses, which also varied from person to person. One stated him to be black-haired and blue-eyed looking like a tired College Student, another stated the man had white hair and green glowing eyes and lastly a more crazy person stated it was like an Eldritch being possessing the car.
The software peeped and Bruce turned to click on it, a news article appeared and the man groaned at what he read.
Breaking news: Scarecrow in custody after getting hit by car through Starbucks!
Witnesses say that during what was shaping up to be a fear gas attack, the driver hit the man before swerving through the front window of a Starbucks.After confirming everyone was okay, the baristas on shift gave the driver an iced coffee and a croissant while waiting for the police to arrive on scene. One employee even insisted this reckless driver saved their lives. [...]
Bruce closed the news, not reading any further and ready to slam his head onto the table. Who was this rogue?
Danny blinked at the newspaper in his hand, sipping his coffee and wondering who that driver was. He would have to be more careful now on the streets with a driver like that, that's fine. Jazz wouldn't probably call him soon again to nag about these crazy drivers Gotham appeared to have. She had been naggingly worried ever since he started going to college here. He just had to assure her that he would be even more careful to not get involved. Though his parents had already reinforced his car as a stay-safe-son measure. So he would just have to get in the car, drive from point A to point B and not hit anyone or anything like his parents.
He glanced at his kitchen clock and spat out his morning coffee.
"Shit! I am going to be late for my classes!"
In a rush he grabed his keys and ran to his car. He needed to hurry if he wanted to be there in time without upsetting his professor. Good that he learned about some pretty neat short cuts from his classmates.
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bisexualiteaa · 27 days
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Feo, Fuerte Y Formal
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Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)
CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)
AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰
Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!
Tag list: @expirednukacola
It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.
He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.
Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me.
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.
The room was completely black.
I hugged her and she hugged back.
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.
I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.
It’s just like the fella said,
“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
She’s telling me we’ll be wed.
She’s picked out a king-size bed.
I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.
Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?
He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.
“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.
“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.
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aprocessionofthoughts · 2 months
Text
Explanations
part 4 of MM ao3
Danny winced, overwhelmed for a moment at the emotions Hood was projecting. A flurry of fear, anger, not again, pain being shoved at him as forcefully as if someone were screaming in his ear. 
Danny raised his hands in surrender. “Look, we don’t mean any harm. I honestly have no idea what pits you’re talking about, but I do know a lot about the being dead thing.”
Hood didn’t move, just kept glaring at him.
Danny took a chance and projected peace, want to help, it’s ok. 
Hood’s angry aura faded and he stumbled back a step.
“What was that?” Hood growled and Danny gulped as Hood’s aura flared again with anger, confusion, fear.
“Sorry.” Danny said. “I forget that new liminals aren’t used to projecting, but it’s just another form of talking. And you don’t need to worry, I’m also dead adjacent. “Though,” Danny paused, “I don’t know what the lazarus pits are.”
Hood was still tense but his aura had pulled back a little. “The Lazarus Pits are lakes of glowing green goo.”
“Huh.” Danny gleaned at Jazz. “We call the green goo Ectoplasm. But if these pits are what brought you back, I think they might be rancid. You stink.”
“Excuse me?” Hood took a step back as his aura flared with indignation.
Jazz cleared her throat.
“What my brother means is that the ectoplasm that brought you back may have been polluted. He can tell because he also has ectoplasm in his system which allows him to sense other sources of ectoplasm.”
“Explain.” 
“Look,” Jazz said, “Why don’t we all sit down and I’ll make some tea and then Danny can explain better.” she sent a pointed look in his direction.
“Fine.”
Jazz nodded and turned and walked toward the kitchen where there was a table and some chairs. Danny followed her and so did Hood.
Danny fiddled with his hands as Jazz was making tea. Honestly, Danny was trying not to comment on the fact that the fully dressed vigilante looked kind of ridiculous sitting at their kitchen table.
“Would you like some tea?” Jazz said, looking toward Hood.
Hood paused before responding. “No thanks.” 
Jazz nodded then turned back toward the kettle.
“Soooo….” Danny started. “Before we go on, i do need to know if you actually died, or if you just encountered some green goo.”
Hood didn’t say anything.
Danny sighed. “If it helps, I actually died and was brought back to life via green glowy stuff.”
Danny waited and was about to give up and wait for Jazz to lead the conversation when Hood finally spoke.
“I died, I’m not sure what brought me back. But then I was dumped in a Lazarus Pit.”
“Huh.” There weren’t a lot of things that could bring people back from the dead as far as Danny knew, but with all the craziness he’d already experienced in his own life, he wasn’t surprised. Though it was interesting that Hood had been exposed to ectoplasm afterward. What would that make Hood? A liminal, or a halfa like him? But as much as Danny would like someone else like him, since it wasn't ectoplasm that brought Hood back the man was probably just a liminal.
“Here you go, Danny.” Jazz said, setting a mug in front of him and then taking a seat next to him.
Danny inhaled the warm scent of spices and then looked at Hood. “So, how do you want to do this? I can do a quick info dump and then you ask questions, or you can just ask questions and I’ll answer them?”
“Info first, then I’ll ask questions.”
Danny nodded.
“First of all, ghosts are real.” he paused, but when Hood didn't say anything he continued. “They live in an alternate dimension and are fueled by and made of ectoplasm, the green glowy stuff. There are various things that can make a ghost, but we don’t need to get into that now. This is just the basics. When a human has a near death experience, or is exposed to ectoplasm they have the chance of becoming what we call liminal. That just means that they lean a little toward the ghostly side.” he glanced at Jazz, his gaze questioning and she nodded. “That’s what me and Jazz are. And that’s what I think you are.”  Danny waited for a moment, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Any questions.”
“How did you heal me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Danny shrugged and sat back. “As liminals we actually need some ectoplasm to survive and it can help heal us. Usually, the ectoplasm in our bodies heps us heal ourselves, but I think yours can’t since,” Danny wrinkled his nose, “whatever source you got yours from is obviously rank.”
“What does that even mean?” Hood said, but he sounded tired not angry.
Jazz smiled gently at him. “Ectoplasm that stays too long in the Living Realm, here, can absorb pollutants. Think of it like,” she hummed and tapped her finger against the table, “like air in an improperly ventilated area. If air isn’t allowed to move and flow it can become stale. The same with ectoplasm. It’s a form of energy that needs to flow and be filtered in the Infinite Realms, where the ghosts are, or it needs to be filtered by ghosts. But if it’s allowed to just sit in one area and build up, continually absorbing energy, but unable to filter or release it then it grows rank.”
“It’s complicated.” Danny said. “And neither of us is the greatest at explaining since we’re still learning. But yeah, ectoplasm is a form of energy that flows between dimensions.
Danny smiled at Hood, there were faint feelings of confusion, disbelief, denial, no true, not true, I’m alive. But Danny did his best not to push anything toward the other liminal. He didn’t want to scare the man.
“I need to go.” Hood said, standing abruptly. 
Danny startled, but nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
Jazz stood. “You’re welcome back here anytime if you have questions.” Jazz smiled. 
Danny felt the briefest glimmer of attraction come from Hood and while Jazz was good at not projecting, Danny could tell from her face that she was feeling similarly toward Hood.
Danny smirked. This would be fun.
176 notes · View notes
megamindsecretlair · 5 months
Text
Been an (Awful) Good Girl
Pairing: Rich!Tre x Babygirl!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
*This is separate from Mr. Black but with a similar style. Can be read as a future imagine for these two.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This shit rated PORN. Established relationship. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering and oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm control, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, size kink, daddy and breeding kink if you squint, roleplaying as Santa, all consensual.
Summary: Tre has taken you away to a cabin in the mountains for a romantic getaway. He roleplays as Santa so he can shimmy down your chimney.
Word Count: 4,653k
A/N: Chile, ya'll can blame this good ass edible and @planetblaque for this one! Sweet lordt. I had to take SEVERAL breaks. Don't look at me for this one. I'm not responsible for what the jazz cabbage provides. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist if you're interested about Mr. Black!
Tagging the folks who love Mr. Black: @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @pinkpantheris @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @prettypink-princesss @westside-rot @the-crystal-one
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A heavy thud made you gasp with excitement and fear as you headed down the stairs. A man dressed as Santa bent over near the Christmas tree, inspecting the presents there and leaving a few more. You tip-toed further down the stairs until you reached the bottom landing, placing your hand on your hips.
“I hope you’re leaving a good present for me,” you said. 
Santa straightened up and turned around slowly, revealing a thick ebony-skinned man. He wore Santa pants with unlaced black boots. Santa’s coat hung open revealing a wide expanse of sexy midnight skin. Rock hard abs was under a subtle layer of fat. There was a Santa hat hanging loosely on his head. He was a man. 
God and it killed you every day that you got to love on this man. That he was yours to do whatever you wanted with. 
“That depends. Have you been a good girl?” The deep timbre of his voice only added to how aroused you were. When he suggested this getaway to a mountain cabin, you thought that he was out of his rabbit ass mind. Black folk didn’t “do” cabins. 
However, you couldn’t resist all the things he’d been teasing you with all week. Every day, he’d whisper something else naughty that he was going to do to you leading up to Christmas. He detailed everything he was going to do as if it were its own treasured present.
All week, he had been edging you, playing with the outermost edges of your clit and pussy. He’d get you so hot and bothered that you thought you’d cum from his voice alone. No matter how many times you begged and pleaded, he refused to allow you to cum. He would whisper all kinds of dirty shit.
When you got to the cabin, he stayed true to his word. Except that he’d edged you more. You were sexually frustrated and you wanted dick right now. 
“I’ve been an awful good girl,” you said with a sultry grin. 
Santa absently rubbed his stomach as he crooked his finger and you walked closer to him. 
He had done a good job of getting the cabin ready for you both. He did all the research, ran it by you for approval, and set to work getting it set up for Christmas. The tree was understated and beautiful with copper and blue baubles. A Black angel in gold robes sat atop the tree with lights lit in her hands. 
He had a fire going in the hearth now, warming the entire first floor. It was a good thing too. You were not accustomed to the freezing temperatures in the mountains. The day time wasn’t so bad. But at night? You were shivering your ass off upstairs. 
Santa licked his lips as you approached, looking over your outfit for the day. You practically cackled while you were in the store, spending all his money on lingerie. Tonight, you chose a forest green teddy, with gold straps across your hips. It showed off the planes of your belly and connected in the back. It was flimsy and you felt incredibly sexy in it. 
By the look in his eyes, it was very much appreciated. He grabbed your hand and made you do a spin for him. You moved your hips dramatically, like a model to show him exactly what he’s been teasing all week. 
“Good girls usually stay sleep when Santa comes to visit,” he said. He pulled your hips backwards so that your ass could grind into his hard dick. You bit your lip and suppressed a shudder. You were so needy, you’d suck his dick till the morning if only he’d let you cum already. He grazed your left ear with his teeth.
“I’m too curious,” you said.
He chuckled and you felt the vibration down your back. Did this man have any clue how fucking sexy he was? He had to. He had to know that you were down bad for him. 
“Too curious about your presents? That’s very naughty,” he said, drawing out the word. His teeth on your ear were sending electrical currents straight to your pussy. You ached. You needed stimulation and you were tired of waiting. He was a mean asshole but he wasn’t typically this cruel. You didn’t know which side of the bed he woke up on, but he needed to switch up real quick before you got pissed and didn’t want to play anymore. 
You took a few deep breaths to calm down. You were too excited. Your teddy was already growing damp. That was just at the promise of dick. 
“I’ve been good all year. Can’t I take a little peak?” You asked.
“Hmm, how ‘bout you come sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want. Let’s see if Santa got it right this year,” he said in your ear. 
He stepped away from you and dragged a chair closer. The cabin was so quaint and adorable like all them cheesy ass Hallmark movies. The chair was antique, lovingly restored with a dark stain on it. You were nervous to defile it so crudely, but whatever. Shit wasn’t going to last forever.
He sat down and slapped your ass. You shrieked, not expecting the bite of pain. You looked over your shoulder at him and he gave you a saucy wink. He spread his legs wide enough for you to squeeze your luscious body in between. You sat on his lap, feeling his dick again. You were turned on, he was turned on, was all of this really necessary? 
You knew better than to question him. Once he got an idea in his head, it took damn near a miracle to get him to switch it up. 
The fabric of his clothes were plush. You settled on his lap and he pulled your hips back until you were all the way on him. He tapped your thighs to get you to hang them over his, leaving you just as spread as he was. More so, since your legs dangled outside of his. 
The heat of the fireplace slammed into you, fighting with the heat from inside of you. Your breaths were growing too ragged and painful in your chest. “Nuh-uh, breathe baby girl,” he said. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” 
He was right. He thought he was always right but in this instance, he really was right. You took deep breaths, looking into the real flames behind the black grate. Santa’s hands rubbed over your thighs and you gasped, jerking away from him. 
He continued to rub your thighs, getting you used to his touch. If you didn’t calm down soon, you were going to burst into little tiny pieces. His hands worked inwards, getting closer to your pussy and you began to grind on his dick. You used the arm rests for support.
You couldn’t help it. You needed to move, to ride. You needed some damn friction. “Tell Santa what you wanted this year. Anything that pops into that pretty empty head,” he said in your ear.
He returned to nibbling on it. You started and stopped multiple times. The heat began to duel in earnest now, sweat gathering on your forehead and in between your breasts. “Since I’ve been so good, I want a new car,” you said. 
He knew you had a really hard time asking for shit. He made good money and he liked taking care of you but every single purchase was a small battle of wills. You always lost, but he was getting sick of the guilt you felt over each purchase. 
His project this year was to get you to ask for the most outrageous things so that his gifts were “small” in comparison. Last year, his project was to make you rest. He whisked you away for an entire year and refused to let you do anything but sleep and hop on his dick. 
“What kind of car?” He asked. “Be specific.” 
You whimpered as his pinky fingers played with the very edge of your teddy. It skimmed the sensitive skin in the crease of your legs and you gyrated again, unable to stop. 
“I-I want a Range Rover Evoque, Black, 2024 model,” you said. He moved his fingers closer. If he went a bit farther, his fingers would finally rub on your clit. 
You were having a hard time breathing. You were out of air as your brain turned fuzzy. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Maybe it was how turned on you were. You weren’t sure and didn’t care to know.
“Tell Santa why you want it,” he said. 
You weren’t sure it was safe for a human body to contain so much heat. You flushed with it, as if it were a wall of pressure inside of you. You huffed. “It’s simple and unassuming. But has all wheel drive that I can take anywhere,” you said.
“Where you trynna go?” He asked.
“To our winter house in Northern France. A chateau with a huge green house I can visit and walk around all the new plants. Then it has to have a garden too. So big I could get lost in it,” you moaned.
He moved his fingers over the lace covering your clit. That tiny strip of fabric was all that separated you from his fingers. You wished the fireplace would leap out a tiny flame and burn the fabric away. You hated being teased and the bastard knew it. 
“That’s my girl,” he said. He moved his right hand and slipped it under your teddy. He groaned when he burrowed his fingers in between your soaked folds. 
“I don’t know. You still might end up on the naughty list. Do good girls let Santa play with their pussy?” He asked.
You nodded and shivered. Tingles shot up and down your thighs. Your toes curled around his calves. He was trying to kill you. He was actively committing murder and you were letting him. “Yes. Santa has to be taken care of too, right?” You asked. 
“What if I had a Mrs. Clause?” He asked.
“Then she’d be having a very lonely Christmas considering it’s my pussy you’re playing with,” you said. 
Santa chuckled and removed his fingers. “Wait! No!” You cried. 
He moaned while he licked his lips. Smacked his lips. “Good girls don’t have filthy mouths, baby girl,” he said. 
“Wait, I’m sorry. I’ll be good!” 
“Tell me what else you want and maybe I’ll go back to playing with it,” he said.
You grunted in frustration. You were going to get his ass back for this. When he least expected it. Maybe the next time he showered, you were going to drop to your knees and suck him to the point of cumming. Then you were going to stop and make him suffer like he made you suffer all week.
The thought helped you plan your next ask. “I want a private island. With a private plane I can take whenever I want,” you said. 
“A private island, huh? With on site staff?” He asked.
“Yes!” You ground into him based on that hit of gravel in his throat. He wasn’t entirely immune to what you were doing. He liked to act a big game, but he wasn’t made of steel. Although with that thing between his legs…
“What you gon’ do with this private island?” He asked.
“Walk on the beach naked,” you said with a grin. He couldn’t see you, but your words hit their mark. His hips slipped forward. He chuckled. 
“Oh, we got jokes tonight,” he said. 
You shuddered. “Fuck,” you panted. “I will walk around naked, get in the water naked. I might even lay on my beach and fuck myself with my fingers.”  You moved your hand to do just that. Fuck him. He pushed you too far this time. 
His fingers searched for your wet heat, pushing inside and you cried out. You leaned your head back, leaning on his shoulder. You were at an odd angle, your back curved a touch too far. You didn’t care. He was finally touching you.
Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he dipped three in at once. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck,” you moaned. Your right hand reached back to grip his bicep. The muscles squeezed and you held on by digging your nails in. 
“I can definitely deliver on some of them things. But I think what I got you is much better. That’s if I decide you’ve been good,” he said. 
You didn’t give a fuck what he said. You were grinding on his fingers while he pumped them inside you. Your arousal made you grip his fingers and he groaned at the extra pressure. “Nahh, you been too naughty. Talking back, disobeying orders, potty mouth.” 
You whined. “Please, I’ll do anything,” you panted. 
“Anything?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded, wiggling your hips. Fuck! His fingers weren’t enough! 
“Sit on my face then,” he said. 
Your hips stuttered as his words sunk in. He couldn’t be serious. “I don’t want to squish–”
“I die, I die,” he said.
You laughed despite yourself. “I’d miss you too much if you did,” you said. Fuck. You wanted his dick and he wasn’t going to make it easy. How did he know you so well? 
“Okay, okay,” you agreed. Fuck it. Santa chuckled as he withdrew his fingers again. He sucked on them, groaning at your taste. The small room was filled with the scent of your arousal. The thick musk tickled your nose. You felt naughty as hell. Okay, maybe there was something to this role playing business. 
You stood up and the chair scooted across the hardwood floor, grooves be damned. Before the hearth, there was a thick bearskin rug. On top of it, there were two other thick blankets with smooth downy fabric. 
You knelt down while Santa joined you. He got onto his back. The Santa jacket and boots had come off. His skin flickered with the light of the flames. Shadows played across his chest. You licked your lips as you straddled his chest. He scooted down while you scooted upwards towards his mouth.
Nerves made your hands shake and thighs quake. Your pussy moved over his face and he adjusted himself beneath you. He pressed his nose into your wet core and breathed deeply. 
“Fuck,” he groaned. He flicked his thumb over the thin material before yanking your teddy to the side.
“Shit’s so fucking creamy, baby girl,” he said.
You moaned while he pulled you down onto his face. You tried to use your knees to hover, but he was yanking you down anyway so that you literally sat on his face. His tongue started to move, flexing with his jaw. He was in it deep already. His thick beard rubbed your pussy and you moaned uncontrollably. 
“Oh my god,” you moaned. Your hands dropped to his head. Your body started to move, riding his face. You were flooding his face with your arousal. It practically dripped out of you and onto his chin, into his beard, and into his mouth. 
He moaned while he ate you out. The vibrations made his lips tingle. Pressed against your clit just so, you twitched and were shaking out your release. Your moans bounced in the cozy cabin. You screamed it all out. Such undiluted pleasure had you seeing through the roof and into the starry night sky. 
“Oh fuck,” you moaned.
Santa continued to slurp up your essence. The loud sucking made your pussy flutter. “So fuckin’ creamy, shit,” he moaned. Harsh breaths escaped him and you felt slightly guilty. However, not too guilty because fuck that was amazing.
You didn’t have to worry about crushing him or wondering when he would tap out with an apology. Your head was silent for once. You were just a vessel for pleasure and at his mercy. 
“Roll over,” he said. 
You climbed off of him and flipped onto your back. He moved and leaned up onto his knees, scooting in between your legs and dropped his pants. He pressed his massive thighs against yours, pushing you nearly in half. 
He laid down into a push-up style position. His hands were on either side of you, pushing your thighs down even more against your body. He wiggled his hips and the tip of his dick swung lazily over your pussy.
“Oh please, baby. Please, please,” you begged with an edge of panic. 
Your feet dangled over his shoulders and you pushed them inward, wrapped around his head. He finally lined up perfectly, and began to sink in slowly.
Your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Fuck, me!” You moaned. 
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned tiredly. 
He ought to be fucking tired from all that teasing he did! You bit your lip to keep from cursing him till kingdom come. He knew how long and thick he was. He knew he needed to get you sopping wet before even attempting this shit. But a week? A week of fucking teasing? 
Your tight hole squeezed his dick and he moaned, stopping about halfway in. “Breathe for me, baby girl. Breathe and let me into that sexy pussy,” he coaxed with a deep rumble in his chest.
You took deep breaths and willed your body to relax. You were just so excited, you didn’t know how you were still conscious. You relaxed enough for him to keep sliding in deeper. You jerked and moaned as he kissed your cervix. You grunted and groaned, a delicious burn working its way around the edges of your pussy. 
Fully seated, he stopped and let you adjust around him. He didn’t wait long to pull out and then slide back in, rougher. Your thighs slapped together like a thunderclap. You panted and your legs shook over his shoulders. 
Your hands flew to your knees to keep them closed around him. Otherwise, your legs would drop open and he’d split you in half. On second thought…
You let your knees fall open, opening you wider. Santa grinned, looking between your bodies at where you joined. His jaw worked, gathering spit, and spat on your pussy. An inhuman glint entered his eye as he fucked it into you.
Your moans continued to get louder as he slammed roughly into you. That long dick speared you from the inside out. But he was immediately hitting your G-spot. Your moans turned feral and animalistic as you felt indescribable pleasure. 
Your thighs made loud and filthy smacks the harder he clapped your pussy. You gushed on his dick and the sticky suction noise joined the symphony of filth. 
“I’m-I’m-I,” you couldn’t speak.
“That’s okay. You let me worry about that. Don’t you want me to feel it?” 
You nodded and blinked into his eyes. He looked down at you. “Aww, look at you letting me hit this fuckin’ raw. You been such a filthy slut this year,” he said. 
“Shit,” you moaned. 
“You hear how hard I’m beating this shit?” He asked. 
You could only nod. He licked his lips as he looked at your bouncing breasts, barely held in check by the teddy. “Pussy talkin’ hella loud.”
“Oh my god,” you breathed. You were shaking badly now, twisting and writhing beneath him. 
“Mhm, keep talkin’. Keep talkin’ to me.” 
You finally let go, the orgasm wrapping a giant hand around you and squeezed the very breath from your lungs. Your mouth worked, but all you let out was a strangled, incoherent moan. 
“There it is. Ou, feelin’ so fuckin’ good. You such a filthy little slut, ain’t you? Gettin’ dick from Santa this year. Let me hear that pussy screamin’ for me,” he said. 
Your chest continuously caved in as you screamed with pleasure. Screamed to the heavens above that you were getting phenomenal dick that constantly emptied your head of all thoughts. You operated on pure feeling now. The deep, long strong of his dick. The slap of his thighs on yours. His groans and grunts as he watched himself disappear inside of you. 
You shook violently on your way down. You pouted a bit. He didn’t cum. You stuck your bottom lip out and he grinned. He leaned down into the pushup, pressing his lips to yours. He dominated your kiss, running his tongue in a circle around your lips. Then he dived his tongue inside. You still faintly smelled yourself on his breath. 
“You think I’m done with you?” His lips hovered above yours and you whined, wanting to continue kissing him. He lowered but before your lips fully connected, he leaned back. You chased his mouth but he leaned too far away.
You turned puppy dog eyes towards him and stuck out your bottom lip again. He chuckled. He bit your bottom lip and pulled. His hips still worked roughly against you, fucking into you with reckless abandon. 
“You’ve been a naughty girl this year,” he began to kiss down your body. He licked certain parts of your skin, before zeroing in your nipple through your teddy. You hissed and jerked, moving away from it. He held on, getting the fabric wet with his spit. 
“Not even this sweet pussy of yours can make me put you on the nice list,” he said. 
“Shit,” you moaned. You threw your head back as another orgasm tugged on your core. He leaned up and licked this thumb, pressing it against your clit. You growled as your pleasure seemed to ramp higher and go further. You clutched onto his forearms, too weak to say or do anything. 
Your eyes crossed while his thumb furiously worked your clit. “Get that pussy talkin’ again. I ain’t hear her the first time.”
He slipped out of you while you were still shaking from the last orgasm. “Ohhh.” your lips moaned, a desperate echo making your voice warble. Your body twitched beneath him. He just watched as you squirmed. 1 
“How many orgasms does it take to get me to bust?” He asked.
His dirty words were activating a different switch in your mind. You became competitive and pathetic as you gyrated, trying to shove his dick back inside. You wanted his cum and you hated that he turned you into an animal, too fucked out to care about how you looked or what you showed him in your eyes. 
He scooted back and roughly turned you over onto your knees. You flopped around, your arms too weak to help yourself. “Get up on them fuckin’ knees.” 
You whined and whimpered as you slowly got into position. He pushed your thighs further apart with his knees and entered you in one deep thrust.
“Fuck! Baby! Too much!” You pushed your hand back against his broad chest. He slapped your hand away.
“Nuh-uh, move that hand,” he said. 
“Too much, Daddy!” You screamed. His strokes were hitting the deepest part of you and you were screaming the national anthem for all you knew. 
“Oh! I’m Daddy now?” He asked. 
“Daddy, please!” You whined. You slammed your ass on his dick with his help. His hand smacked your ass with such force that you fell back from the recoil. 
“Fuck! Look at that shit go,” he grunted. Your hand pushed against his body again.
“Move that fuckin’ hand, now!” 
Your wails were grating on your own nerves. You moved your arm. “You know what I wanna hear if you want me to stop,” he said. 
No, you didn’t want to use that word. The minute you did, he would stop and want to check in with you. You didn’t want words now. You didn’t want to reason and explain yourself. You just wanted to blow your hip out. 
You gripped the sheets beneath you and held on. “Yeah, that’s right. Good girls listen to Santa,” he said. 
You gripped his dick and rode him like your life depended on it. He landed a few more smacks to your ass. “Watching this ass shake, hmm, I’m ready to bust. You think this one gon’ be it?” 
You drooled onto the bed as your orgasm crested once more, putting pressure on your lower belly, and gripping him tighter. You bit the blanket beneath you as you groaned. Your eyes rolled and eyelids fluttered. 
“Hmm, don’t she talk so pretty,” he moaned. 
He grunted as he finally spilled inside of you. Fuck, there was so much of it. You worried briefly if you wouldn’t get fucking pregnant off of this. You were meticulous about your birth control and you weren’t ovulating.
But you could believe it if you ended up pregnant off of this dick tonight. If he had some type of magic dick that got you pregnant with a single thought. He fucked his cum into you, plugging you full of it. 
“Goddamn it, baby girl,” he grunted. His leg shook as the final pulse pushed into you deeper. 
He retreated slowly. His cum immediately pushed out in a thick, creamy wad. You groaned as it slid down your pussy and dripped beneath you. You wouldn’t be able to look at bear rugs the same. 
“Shit,” he panted. He spread your ass cheeks so that he could watch himself leak out of you. 
“Might fuck around and give you some kids, baby girl. Would you like that? You want my baby?” He asked.
He rubbed your ass as he continued to watch his cum leak from your body. You probably looked like a stuffed donut.
“Nahh, not yet. I’m not done spoiling you,” he said. 
You sniveled as tears ran down your cheeks. You were so full of love for this man. How he always took care of you and pampered you. You didn’t have to lift a finger when he was around. It was so intoxicating. You feared that one day you truly would let him spoil you and not give two shits.
He wiped your tears away and brought it to his lips. He moaned when he sucked your tears off. “Fuck, baby girl. You wanted some more dick, this is how you ask,” he said. 
He entered you again and you cried out. You fell face forward onto the blanket, your face facing the hearth. Heat waves warmed your face instantly. The light cast long rays in your vision as it swam with tears and bliss. 
Your fingers were too weak to properly hold onto the blanket. Your cheek rubbed against the damp spot from your spit. 
“She got somethin’ more to say, huh?” Santa asked. 
You nodded and moaned as your wails reached a new crescendo. You gripped his dick again, sucking him deep into your body. 
Santa moved his left hand to palm your scalp. He flexed his fingers and pulled your hair back. His right hand smacked your ass once and then he was pushing it into your anus. “Oh shit!” You moaned. 
“I’m gonna have to bring you more of these from the North Pole, baby girl,” he said. 
“I bought two of every color,” you said.
His hips snapped forward as he unloaded again inside of you. Hot splashes of his cum pushed against your G-spot and you cried out, sinking onto his dick with a powerful, gut-wrenching, mind-blowing orgasm that twisted you like a pretzel and folded you like a bagel. 
He lazily continued to fuck into you as he groaned and spent every ounce left in his balls. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder. 
“Damn, baby, thank you,” he whispered and kissed behind your ear. You were too fucked out to respond. You just softly moaned. 
He dropped a kiss to your cheek and you felt him smile against it.
“Wait till you see what I do to you on New Year’s.”
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illya-roma · 1 year
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DP X DC PROMPT- (Fic that I'd totally probably might write)
Jason had learned from being a Robin to being Red Hood to expect a lot of things, from fighting the deranged to expecting the unexpected like daina (WONDER WOMAN!) being mind controlled.
But he never expected this.
He usually doesn't come here to begin, not after- after it happened, but he does each time whenever the pits wants to remind hims of what he could have lost. (What he lost, how it hurt hurt hurt. How HE hurt them. He knows that even if they forgive him, they'll never trust him again. The pit laughs from behind)
But tonight, in front of him sat someone?something? what appears to be a teenager from 14 to 16, with red hair that flickers similar to a flame and skin too pale and ears too pointy.
But it?she? sat on one of the headstone with her eyes glazed, too deep in her own thoughts.
A series of bubbles cut her off. She proceeded to put the baby (that seemed completely human) on her shoulder and allowed him to burb. Then cocooned him in blankets and hummed him to sleep.
Right now, he isn't red hood (or Robin). And his gun may not affect her, that is if the child belongs to someone else. (Did the parents give them to her? Or is she related? Have any alarms of a breakout occur that a meta? experiments? escape?).
(He sounds like Bruce.)
"A penny for your thoughts?"
The girl had her eyes on the child, with a small sad smile and flickers of flaming hair. "Just..."
"Just wondering what my grave would have looked like."
He sucked a breath.
"That ones yours...right?"
The girl (child ghost holy fuck!) nodded her head to his own grave. "Y-yeah...it's mine."
"It's beautiful... And well cleaned...They must've cared a lot, mister Jason."
He never thought about that. A well taken grave describes a caring family wouldn't it? (They do care! How is it still clean though?)
"Yeah...but uh...um...What's up with the..the baby?" Is the baby alive?
"Oh...Noone will take care of my baby boy... So.. I had to come back..."
She pushed back a few strands of black hair with tender eyes and the lightest touch. As if he where the most fragile crystle.
Jason could see himself in the child. All loved to the point his own mother would give up everything just for him. Except it was Bruce, it was Bruce that took him in and loved him. Standing beside his bed during nightmares when he cried and taking away the monsters. Sitting with Alfred, cooking together and exchanging stories.
(His family loved him. His family loves him.)
"Would you like to fly with me?"
Robin made me magic
He keeps wiping his face while she put the baby in a safer position. "We can have a brawl for fun after I put little Danny in his bed a-" she stopped mid scentence when looking at him
He sputtered. " Is something wrong?"
With fear in her eyes she floated, creating distance between both of them. She shaked her head in disbelief.
"You...you died..."
He took a step farther, not wanting to scare them away.
"But..b-but your... nononono why do you look like that?!"
He wanted to ask like what, but she disappeared before his eyes. (Did she know he wasn't safe? That he hurt his family?)
...
Beep
"Hey Jaylad, is the pit be-
"B-Bruce"
"Jason, what's wrong? Are yo- what happend?"
"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, I'm sorry! Dad I'm sor-"
"I'm coming, hang in there."
"Little Wing what's wrong?"
"Todd, who hurt you? Who should I kill?"
"Jason, back ups close. Breath with me, alright!"
(His family loves him)
(The pits were silenced)
_______________________________________
In an alternative universe the Fenton are still driving around and setting up traps, unfortunately Jazz is the one who removes them and got caught.
Since jazz is the one that doesn't wear hazmats and dany is still a baby (she makes sure is far from their experiments with ectoplasm), she becomes a ghost who decides that she doesn't want Danny to get hurt and takes him somewhere near a lot of ectoplasm.
Gotham: sweet baby girl, little baby harley.
Let the drama begin.
Chapter 2
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moosetron · 1 year
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Dpxbatman prompt: Jason is finally being legally integrated back into society, but due to the cover story the court in charge of his case mandates that he spend a minimum of a month going to a support group for people dealing with near death experiences.
Jason thought that he'd just have to sit through boring group meetings for a month as he lied through his teeth.
But somehow Bruce had found the one support group in America that was perfect for his sons needs.
'The life after death support group'
What was worse was that Jason was now forced half way across the country to attend a support group in a nowhere town called amity Park for a whole month.
-
Danny had no clue why he was here.
Scratch that he knew perfectly well why he was here, his sister had somehow convinced him to at least attend the first meeting of the support group she'd set up.
Who would even attend such a unique and weirdly specific support group?
Danny had no clue, but he decided to take jazz up on her offer, to at the very least show support for his sister on one ofher weird ventures.
Besides if he found the meeting to be boring or uncomfortable as he suspects it will be he could just leave right?, it's not like he was legally obligated to attend anyway.
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