#Crocs Stomp

[urbanfashionsense]

Crocs Collaborations and Brand Growth // Pamela Anderson’s Crocs & Beyonce Homage // Disney x Pixar Cars, Lightning McQueen x Crocs Clogs Re-release via Sneakin’ Online

[adreamthatsworthkeeping]

Right, so we know that the Jurassic, Cretaceous, etc periods were millions of years apart. If the meteor hadn't ruined their good party fun times, do we think this was going to be a dinosaur planet only? If they hadn't been wiped out to make way for Mammal Time, would it just be dinosaurs of various degrees dominating forever?

[weirdstuffontemu]

Charlie Kelly got his "kitten mittens" idea swiped by Crocs.

[girlsdressingrooms]

Crocs’ ‘Wednesday’ Stomp Clogs !

[grrl-beetle]

Crocs Stomp Puff Boot

[hislittleraincloud]

It’s the fact that they’re called “stomp clog” 💀 big ass womper stompers lol

They remind me of these bigass Steve Madden (💕💖✨) stompers I used to have. Platforms have been a part of my life since the 90s. I'm short (but not Ortega short, that's almost dwarf sized).

The sad thing about these is I don't want to wear them out. I wear my other black Crocs every day and they're just so fkn worn now, plus these were expensive. Maybe I ought to get a normal pair and just wear these stupid things whenever I wear a Wednesday shirt (I have 4 Wednesday shirts... >_> ... 💩).

[crocsin]

Stomp Unisex Dreamscape Slide - Crocs™ India

Stomp Slide is one of the most exclusive collections of Footer which is in high demand because it is as stylish to look as it is comfortable to wear with which your fashion will look even better. Read more: https://www.crocs.in/stomp-unisex-dreamscape-slide.html

[hklibco]

These are called stomp slides lol.

[rivetgoth]

While you all buy your end of year holiday release triple A video games I am buying used copies of PS1 games from 1997 on eBay for my own birthday

[mammalsofaction]

Imagine human!Perry getting hit with the molecular separator. Set during the events of 'Split Personality'

-That morning when Candace was wrestling with the separator and accidentally separates herself, the machine smashes into a rock and begins to malfunction. She doesn't notice, what with suddenly being two people with wildly contradicting priorities and all.

-But when Perry steps out into the backyard to head into his hideout, stepping onto the very same rock-a trigger for his lair, the machine descends down with him. Perry lands in his seat, but the machine activates upon impact to the floor and hits him with it before it sputters out and dies. Monogram is greeted with two distinct Perrys; Agent P, professional hardass and lone wolf dedicated in the pursuit of justice and fighting evil (specifically Doof); and Uncle Perry, a mellow headed novelist who sleeps a lot and really doesn't do much, but loves the kids with all his heart.

-If both men get caught in public and outs OWCA, it could decimate Perry's cover and invite all sort of legal and coverup catastrophes. Monogram demands Carl chase them and fix it.

-Instead of the Look-Away Inator, it's a Vanessa week and Doof has cooked up another harebrained scheme to take over the Tri State Area, but first! Buying parts at the mall with his daughter :3 Bonding time.

-So Agent P storms to the Mall to defeat Evil and Uncle Perry goes to the mall because all his kids (Phineas, Ferb, Candace, Vanessa) are there!

-Cue four part musical number with Romantic Candace, Busting Candace, Agent P and Uncle Perry while PnF and Carl are trying to chase Candace and Perry around the mall, while Linda and Doof remain perfectly oblivious.

-At one point Vanessa separates from her dad to go look at some new knee high goth stomping boots, and Agent P gets to her first. He gets all up in her face, interrogating her on her father and where he's going and what he's planning, and Vanessa-miffed-goes "What is going ON with you today" and Agent P is like "That's none of your business, Doofenshmirtz." Spitting out her last name like it's something disgusting. He's never referred to her like that before: Perry has ALWAYS made a point to separate her from her father, and emphasize that she was her own person. Agent P storms off and leaves her behind feeling hurt and confused and 40% sure that was NOT the Perry she knows and loves.

-Barely a moment after he leaves Uncle Perry stumbles inside the shop, looking winded and worried before he spots her and breathes this huge sigh of relief. He notes that Vanessa looks spooked, and Vanessa is making that math calculation meme look as Perry checks her up and looks her over until she convinces him that she's fine and she hadn't been hurt. She knows Perry was a softy on the inside, but she's getting whiplash from the sheer difference between him NOW and the him that just spit in her face 5 minutes ago. Not to mention they're dressed COMPLETELY different, and she's never seen him dressed like THIS before. An old battered denim jacket with old band patches over a slightly washed out ducky momo tshirt, khaki shorts and crocs. Hes wearing glasses, and his hair uncombed and unruly. If she was any measure as face blind as her father, they would be two completely different people despite the teal hair, and she wouldn't have recognised him at all.

-She's beginning to suspect they ARE different people. Sthg smells FISHY.

-She off handedly mentions that her father is making a SUPER evil contraption that could completely isolate her uncle. He's on his way home right now.

-Ducky Momo Perry just looks at her with this confused, slightly amused "ok, and?" Look like he's not sure what to do with this information, and just asks if she needs a ride home? If she can just wait until he collects the rest of his kids (he has kids?????) he can drop her off at her father's. They could even get slushy dog otw out maybe?

-She asks if he doesn't want to stop her father's evildoing maybe, and Perry's like no???? Im just a novelist, I dont do much. I dont go out busting evil, that's Other Me's job, and Vanessa's Something Is Off senses just goes BLARING like What Does He Mean.

-Perry checks something on his phone though, and notes with concern it is so LATE, and he needs to make Lunch, oh the kids must be starving he HAS to look for them, and takes off with a kiss to Vanessa's cheek requesting her to meet her at Slushy Dog so he can take her home.

-After he leaves, Vanessa walks out with her mind going A Mile A Minute and spots the Carl The Intern that Monty had once introduced her to. She waves him over, and he asks, nervously, if she had seen "Agent P" around. It's child's play to pressure him into telling her that Agent Perry the Platypus had accidentally been molecularly separated into individually embodying each side of his double life. One where he is known as Uncle Perry of the Flynn Fletcher household, and Secret Agent P the enactor of Justice.

-They had to put the two of them together, else OWCA could risk Perry's cover to be blown, and he would have to be relocated.

-She doesn't want this! She tells Carl that she had already told Agent P that her father had gone home to enact his Evil Plan so she's sure he's going to be at DEI, and she's going to persuade Uncle Perry to send her up. Carl will have to meet them there with the repaired separator and blast them back together.

-She finds Uncle Perry at Slushy Dog, talking to that blonde kid behind the counter that she's pretty sure is Candace Flynn's boyfriend and Perry introduces him as Jeremy Johnson, who had told him Phineas, Ferb and Candace had gone home with their mother. Jeremy seems to vaguely recognise her, at least. Perry introduces her as his "Partner's daughter, Vanessa." Which, okay, they are so pressed for time to unpack that right this second. The implications don't seem to miss Jeremy, either; he looks too stunned to speak. She doubts Jeremy had known Perry was dating anybody. Heck, she didn't know until right that second either. She is SOOOOO bringing this back up once Perry was back to normal.

-She tells Perry that her dad was making her favourite doonkelberry pie for lunch and he just called her and said Perry was invited so won't he please send her home? Perry blushes a little, most likely at the thought of her dad inviting him over to lunch, Jeremy looks arrested and wide eyed like he's piecing things together in his head and Vanessa is only a little bit sorry about the mess Normal Perry is going to have to come home to when he reports home to his mother.

-As Uncle Perry drives her home, Vanessa implicitly understands Carl and Monogram's concerns for the Agency's cover and OWCA's secrecy, because Uncle Perry has NO FILTER. She learns more about him in the half hour car ride (a battered Honda Accord) over than she ever has in the last 5 years she had known him. In a relaxed state, Perry talks in odd accent amalgam that he explains had been due to being raised in Australia, before moving to England with his sister when she married Lawrence, Ferb's dad. They were otherwise orphans who were integrated by OWCA at an incredibly young age, so the Fletchers became like family, and he had stayed even when his sister passed from an OWCA related incident (the one thing he seems hesitant to elaborate on) to help Lawrence Fletcher raise Ferb. He explains to her that prior to his nemesis-ship to her father, OWCA had demanded him work odd hours which weren't very kid friendly, which made him apply for a more stable schedule. Major Monogram got in contact and persuaded him to take up a nemesis-ship with his father in Danville, and when he moved, Lawrence and Ferb moved with him.

-Lawrence met Linda Flynn in Danville, who was a single mother of Candace and Phineas Flynn, and the rest was history.

-Vanessa had an inkling there was so much more lore she could uncover from that brief yet eye opening wealth of information, but she got distracted just learning more about Perry as a person and-apparently-how much more open he is about his adoration of her father without his concerns of professionalism as an OWCA agent. She knows he thinks her dad's cute, seems exasperated but fond and awed of his inventions, angry and sad about his childhood and past. Perry says he feels like he owes Heinz for so much, not least for getting to care about another brilliant kid, a point he emphasizes with a noogie to Vanessa's head. She feels all mushy and warm inside, but all too soon they have arrived at her father's penthouse doorstep, from which originated the sounds of cartoonish violence.

-Perry notes that her father must be busy, and Vanessa is abruptly reminded of her Mission. She reiterates her father's invitation to lunch, and practically drags Perry inside, praying that Carl had beat them there or was at least primed and aimed the Separator whatsit with a clear shot.

-Inside, Agent P is posed over her father, straddling his chest and he lies on his back on floor squirming and wriggling and noting that Perry the Platypus is being strangely intense today. Agent P is sporting a good few scrapes of his own, implying that her father had given as good as he got, but even with his scowl and a fist pulled back, it's a awkward configuration to catch her dad in. It's not even the first time it happens, but it's SO weird to see every time. Her dad never seems to notice the kind of picture it paints.

-Vanessa doesn't even need to do anything to shove the two halves of Perry together, because Uncle Perry had stormed forward with a beet red face pulling Agent P off of his Heinz, demanding to know what it is that he's doing. It seems to set them both like nothing else, because they are suddenly in a full blown fight with each other (Agent P accusing his other half that he was Consorting With The Enemy, and Uncle Perry hissing about he could've seriously hurt them Heinz and Vanessa BOTH, and this was why they never have any friends or nice things.)

-As Vanessa pulls her father away, she briefly worries that she had blown Perry's cover, until she notes that her dad's got two black eyes and muttering dizzily about seeing double. It's easy to coax him out to an adjacent room as she sees Carl the Intern sneaking inside the house through the still open front door with a machine that looks a like a camera. They give each other a thumbs up as the arguing increases to a fever pitch, one wrong word away before coming to blows, and Carl fires up the reverse of the Separator.

-The abrupt silence throughout the penthouse makes Vanessa's ears ring, but seeing only one dazed figure in the middle of the lab is such a wonderful relief. She watches him take note of his surroundings, a thoroughly defeated Heinz Doofenshmirtz and a thwarted Inator before reaching his own conclusions, and practically overlooks Carl, who takes the opportunity to slink back out the apartment with a visible echoed sigh of relief.

-Vanessa watches as he darts over first to her wrecked and injured dad, hissing as he carefully assesses the injuries and bruises he had inflicted on the man himself that reminds her of the way his Uncle Perry Aspect had looked over HER in the mall-the visible care and concern Agent P disavows himself of. He's avoiding her gaze, and Vanessa figures out that he's embarrassed.

-She doesn't get the opportunity to say anything though, bc her dad comes to somewhat and realizes that Perry is by his side. Despite his wounds being inflicted Perry himself, he seems to tell that Perry's worried anyway, and requests that the agent carry him to his room to take a nap. Vanessa feels a little like she's interrupting, seeing the gentle way her dad takes Perry's hand, the softness in Perry's expression, the easy acquiescence as he heaves her father up in a bridal carry. Her dad is still mumbling nonsense, she hopes Perry will look him over for a concussion, but Perry catches her eye to nonverbally indicate-importantly-that they need to have a talk.

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 4

f1!driver!jason x reporter!reader

A/N: hello my gremlins <3 i wanted to share with u guys that i successfully moved YAY so that explains the update being slightly behind and the less responses i’ve given to comments (i read them all i swear <3) BUT HERE IT IS \(^o^)/ i took way too long to edit and rewrite the way i believe the story should go, im having so much fun with this series and i want to thank all of u who are supporting it from the beginning or saw the updates as they came. ENJOY the fourth chapter of the Racing Hearts series (ALSO THERE’S 300 FOLLOWERS WOW 🥹 THANK U TO ALL THE PEOPLE THAT LIKE MY PAGE AND CONTINUE TO SUPPORT MY CRAZY SAD WRITING AND MY DRAWINGS i love reading your funny comments, unhinged reblogs, and talking about your favorite parts of the story, it really gave me the push to write and contribute to the jason todd community) and i just wanted to remind yall…i haven’t forgotten about that hurt/comfort tag :)

Check out the Racing Hearts masterlist! It shows all the updated chapters and upcoming ones <3

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, spicy if u squint, we’re hitting halfway thru the story so let me introduce what i do best…angst HAHAHA

Word Count: 4.1k

“In all of my career, I have to say that I never thought I would be standing here wearing…these.” Jason looked down to his feet.

The camera focused on the two of you standing next to one another, the lens following Jason’s stare toward the ground. The camera woman zooming in on the bright red Lightning McQueen crocs he was wearing.

You sheepishly admired the shoes, proudly smiling back up to Jason. Bewilderment plastered on his face as he couldn’t believe you actually gifted him Lightning McQueen merch, not even in private but in an interview with multiple cameras pointed at him.

What a predicament he was in. He was definitely not offended when you told him how similar the red car and he were.

“It’s a small thanks from the company for completing your third interview with us.” You smiled brightly at Jason. “Also consider it as a way for us to say ‘good luck’ for your upcoming season.”

Jason couldn’t believe it as he laughed. No matter how much time he spent with you, you always surprised him in the best ways.

“Y’know, I thought the Cars jokes were going to fade out, but you’re a bad influence on my fans.” Jason lightheartedly teased you, stomping his foot enough to let the crocs light up.

You fought a straight face, holding in laughter and trying to stay as serious as you could, but you were about to break any second. You bit the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from smiling, internally promising yourself that you would make sure to get a picture of him later.

You already had his new contact picture picked out.

“I couldn’t think of any other way of showing you my support.” You nodded your head proudly.

“Really? Nothing else?” Jason’s eyebrow rose, his tone sarcastic.

“You’re the best F1 driver I’ve ever interviewed.” You smirked, watching the shoes sparkle.

“I’m the only F1 driver you’ve ever interviewed.” Jason looked at you in disbelief.

“Anyway! We’re closing this as the last part of our series, I’m glad you were able to be a guest before you get busy putting on the RedBull uniform again, I know your fans will really enjoy that—” You wrapped up the finale, finalizing the last public appearance the two of you would have next to each other. A bittersweet ending.

But you always had the Jason laying with you on your couch. Feeding each other dinners, taking motorcycle rides late in the night.

“This can’t be the last time I see you. You’re my favorite interviewer.” Jason lulled his voice, rephrasing your earlier comment back at you. “After all, you gifted me something so…special.”

You paused, shocked at Jason’s forwardness with you, the timber of his voice adding an underlying flirty tone to him.

You’ve never talked to him about the public appearance about the two of you. Could you go public?

It’s for the camera. You silently told yourself.

“You have to win for me to see you again.” You smirked, quickly playing along with his attempt to fluster you.

“That’s too easy, you could try to make this a little harder for me.” Jason chuckled lowly. “It’s almost like you want to see me.”

Oh my.

“So much talk for someone who hasn’t started his comeback season.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “You also didn’t start your last season smoothly, so don’t talk so confidently.”

“But who sat at my last press conference celebrating my win? I don’t end things so easily.” Jason tilted his head as he looked down at you, tension increasing. “I’ll come back when I win, it’ll be our little secret.”

Jason winked at you, the cameras focused in on his face and your reactions.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher between the RedBull Jason on camera and your Jason.

He was his playful self, the signature half smirk trying to get you to blush, but his eyes were soft when he glanced over to you.

You calmly gave in, maybe it was for the camera or maybe it was for you.

“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t think I could keep that a secret.” Your polite smile opposing Jason’s mischievous one. “I don’t think you realize but,” you leaned toward Jason, pausing to eye his figure up and down, gleefully watching him pay attention to your every word. Your smile getting wider at how easily he was wrapped around your finger. “I’m a reporter, I can’t keep that beautiful face to myself.”

“But I’m really good at keeping them.” Jason stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes beamed a playful hue to them.

You cleared your throat, looking at the camera woman who also stared in awe.

Crap, the office was going to get suspicious.

“You should focus on winning first before you make any promises.” You coughed, diffusing the atmosphere Jason created as the film crew watched. “Then call my business number and you don’t have to keep any secrets.”

Once the camera stopped rolling, you resumed your professionalism. Saying goodbyes and getting final pictures for the website and both social medias.

All the previous interviews went well. The fans saw Jason’s personality in action, gaining more attention and love for the racer. Jason’s management team was satisfied with you and the attraction he was gaining before the season started.

It gave him the right press he needed to put him in the spotlight.

After Jason left with his management team, you finalized the video upload that his company agreed to. Your draft for a new article about Jason to be edited and reviewed for the upcoming week. It was business as usual.

Getting work done during the day, then meeting Jason for the evening.

When you got back to your desk, you organized yourself to overlook the release date for the final interview and reviewed for the next big project to tackle now that your work with Jason was finished. Multiple meetings with project managers and your team.

Work was picking up for you, managing larger projects, interacting with larger faces.

Jason lit the hallway to opportunities for you.

Your phone lit up next to your laptop, distracting you from one screen to another.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: pick you up at 6?

You smiled to yourself. Happy, but bittersweet.

You reminded yourself that Jason’s off-season was ending. You wished time could slow down.

—— “Gosh, you’re so clumsy.” You adjusted Jason’s helmet. All the time spent with him reflected in your familiarity with the motorcycle helmet.

“Only for you.” Jason stood there, leaning down to let you reach around his head. Watching you worry about the two of you.

Jason had kept his promise to pick you up.

Most of the time he waited on you to get back from work. Sometimes pushing the boundaries and secretly meeting you for a quick lunch. Meeting him far from where your coworkers frequented.

Your first encounters were hidden behind the idea of work, finding answers to questions for interviews, or suggesting new places to eat.

It was like you couldn’t be apart from one another.

Oh, how you can change a man.

You let Jason fake his ignorance through certain tasks, giving him any reason to get you close to him.

But you gave into his every attempt. Not fighting against his clinginess.

Your roles would switch soon, he wouldn’t wait for you after tiring days of work. You would have to watch him race lap after lap on live television like the rest of the world.

He was leaving soon, you knew he would be busy, it was inevitable, but you wanted as much time before he left.

You sat behind Jason, his body warming the front of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Holding onto him close, wearing the helmet he got you, feeling his solid stomach shift the motorcycle as you rode around the city. You were getting used to your new lifestyle, despite the hidden secrets you shared.

He couldn’t announce a relationship after you were waiting for the last installment of your interviews.

The timing wasn’t right and the meetings this would cause for you and Jason were going to give you a headache.

You heard the motorcycle engine interrupt your thoughts.

Jason slowing at a red light. He stopped, placing his feet on the ground to stabilize the two of you while you waited. The red glow reflected onto Jason sitting in front of you.

The streets were almost empty. Gotham barely waking to the darkness, a city that never sleeps.

“Jay.” You hesitated behind him.

“Hm?” Jason unconsciously acknowledged, resting his hand over yours around his stomach. Rubbing the fabric of his gloves onto yours.

“I want to stay with you longer.” You calmed your voice, careful in verbalizing your feelings.

“You want to drive around more? I think we can drive by—“ Jason continued to rub your wrists. Cars passing in front of him, the opposing traffic keeping you still.

“No, I don’t want to leave you tonight.”

Jason paused, his hand resting on yours, no longer moving. If the cars weren’t in front of you, crossing the intersection, you would have thought time was frozen.

Jason tilted his helmet back, to get a look at you.

You don’t know what he was looking for, your face covered by a protective helmet like his was, but he found what he needed when the light turned green.

It was green, but you stayed there, no other traffic surrounding you.

Just you and Jason.

“Want to come to my place?” Jason kept his black visor on you. “I have a killer TV to watch Cars on.”

You chuckled. Squeezing his waist a little more.

“Better have a good speaker for playing Life is a Highway.”

Jason smirked, hidden from your eyes as he watched you lean back into his warmth.

The humid air covering the two of you into summer clothing. Thinner fabrics and showing more skin.

Jason wore a simple fitted thin long-sleeve, matching the look of his helmet and gloves. It made a great view of his broad back.

A quiet exhale as he looked forward again, revving his engine to life to make a quick turn, opposite of your home.

You were racing the rain as Jason was taking you back, but after you spoke the magic words, how could he send you back home?

The dark summer rain clouds were no longer behind you, the two of you heading straight for them as you watch Jason take you down new streets, an unfamiliar path to Jason’s place.

“I don’t think you’ll make it to the living room before then.” Jason quietly spoke to the light drizzle hitting your bodies

“What did you say?” You couldn’t hear above the engine.

And he was right.

After you were soaked to the bone, fabric sticking to your form, water droplets falling down your skin. A glossy sheen from the harsh rain falling all around you.

Jason had pulled into his garage.

He was in the same state, wet clothes stuck to his skin. The water from you and the motorcycle dripping onto the concrete floor.

You pulled your helmet off, the only dry place.

Once Jason parked the bike, he took off his helmet, placing it on the nearest work table. Your body shivered as you threw your leg over to maneuver yourself off.

You looked down at your state, smiling in disbelief at being caught in the rain.

Maybe you could wear Jason’s clothes after a nice warm shower. You internally thought to yourself. Excited to enter Jason’s place. A new location unlocked.

When you put your helmet next to Jason’s, you could finally take in all of him.

Black shirt tight from the weight of the water, his hands littered with scars, free from the gloves. His hair dry, but messy.

All his muscles more prominent.

You stood in awe, your chest rising from the breaths you took. Humid air invading the inside of the garage, elevated from warm summer nights.

The sight of Jason reminded you of the professional pictures taken of him, leaving his Formula 1 car after a race. He was sweaty, running his hands through his hair with a towel in hand.

After all the time you spent together, it was your favorite photo of him. You secretly saved it because there was something about the look on his face, happy to win, alive on the track.

How attractive he looked was a definite bonus in your opinion.

Jason glanced over to you, finally realizing the state the two of you were in. He slowly looked you up and down, lost in the same visual you were in awe of once you saw him.

You suddenly remembered the last time you and Jason were enclosed in a garage, close to each other, messy from a hard day of distributing winter jackets and food to those who stopped by.

A slight warmth increasing on your face.

Jason stepped closer to you, hands grabbing for your waist to pull you in. His hands reaching under your chin to stretch your neck to adjust to his height.

Breaths mixing as your lips touched only from the movement of your lips unconsciously opening, ready to kiss him.

He waited.

Letting the pressure build as he spoke.

“There’s no volunteers to interrupt us now.” Jason lifted you, letting you sit on the surface of his work table. His arm swooping everything off as he cleared enough room for you.

You could hear objects fall, but you couldn’t care less as Jason stepped between your legs. Quickly, but carefully rubbing at your legs with his palms, his hands getting closer to the blurs of where your thighs met your waist.

Everywhere felt great that you didn’t know where to focus.

The feeling of your lips, your sides, his body between your legs?

You could only huff between the intensity he was igniting in you.

“Jay—inside—it’s cold.”

Despite your words, you didn’t bother to move. You kept touching, feeling everything before Jason lifted you again, the placement of his hands as he carried you, lifting the edges of your shirt.

The feeling of a mattress beneath you as you uncomfortably tried to peel the clothing off your body.

Jason chuckled at your frustration. You couldn’t bother to give him a snide remark as he also struggled to get your soaked clothes off.

When lifting the shirt didn’t work, you tried rolling the fabric, but it only bunched just below your sleeves.

You could only laugh as Jason desperately tried to get the shirt through your arms. Tangled in the mess you both created that you were left with a heavy shirt stuck around your biceps.

“Why is there always something stopping me from seeing all of you?” Jason laughed as he kneeled above you, his shirt completely off at some point along the way to his room.

“I don’t think a pair of wet clothes are going to stop you now.” You smiled at him, glancing up at his figure through the darkness. Only the city lights creeping through the blinds, illuminating his skin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Jason yanked your entire shirt off your arms.

You sucked in a breath at his desperation, memorizing the look of his face as he leaned down closer.

“I want to turn you into a mess.” He whispered into your mouth, kissing down your body.

Overwhelming gasps and breaths left your mouth the more he touched your skin.

“I want to touch you too.” You exhaled, trying to coherently express yourself.

“Next time, sweetheart. I want to focus on you. Everything I want is you.” Jason moved your hair out of your face, stuck from the sweat covering your skin.

The night filled with you repeating Jason’s name, no distractions keeping that man off of you.

After a shared warm shower, Jason gave you a nice pair of his dry clothes. You walked around his place, relaxed after Jason’s…expertise.

What you weren’t prepared for was just how normal his apartment looked. It felt like yours, but bigger, a little more luxurious like it was bought with the intention of having better quality to last longer.

You hoped he had no plans of moving anytime soon.

You stood in the kitchen in awe.

“You have a kitchen island.” You whistled in excitement. “Formula 1 money is good, huh? Maybe I need to pick up a Redbull uniform.”

Jason chuckled, hugging you from behind smelling like the same soap in your hair, his face nuzzling into your neck. You continued to speak.

“No, I can’t steal your fame.” You whispered to yourself. Jason feeling the vibration of your voice the longer he leaned into your neck.

“I’m happy you’re here.” Jason mumbled into you, ignoring everything you said.

“Me too, I’ve been curious where you live.”

“I invited you before, but I guess we’ve always gone to your place.” Jason smiled into your skin. “What do you think?”

“Its very…Jason. I like it.” You glanced around.

You more than liked it. It smelt like Jason. A smell you’ll never grow tired of.

His apartment was slightly bare, the space a little too large for the one man, but that was charming too. It felt like you were able to occupy that small empty space in his life.

When you walked around, Jason following you like a duckling, you noticed the small knick-knacks you bought with him on your dates.

Matching plushies, a book you picked randomly, a bookmark you gifted him, and a tiny paper frog you made while waiting for your table before dinner.

You felt cherished, looking at the physical representations of your memories together.

He grabbed you again, wanting the closeness. You fell back into him, the small paper frog in your hand, made from old receipt paper.

Jason resumed his prior back hug, absorbing your warmth.

He was more clingy than usual tonight.

“How was your trip to the charity today? I forgot to ask you about it at dinner, it must be hard to take a break from them to race again.” You leaned into him more.

Jason buried himself further. Not a great hiding spot since he was larger, but it was the thought that counted.

“I would love to hear about it.” You put the frog back on the shelf, letting it watch the two of you.

“It was good, I got to do one final check to make sure everything would be good when I’m gone. But…” Jason hesitated, squeezing you a little tighter.

You waited, rubbing circles on his forearm.

“I had noticed a lot of stuff come in, it’s a good thing, but it wasn’t like our usual haul. I didn’t recognize it as the stuff I brought over either.” Jason breathed, agitation filling his voice. “When I asked around about it, they said Wayne Enterprises had it delivered.”

Jason went silent. He was tense.

“I always tell that old man to fuck off. He never listens.” Jason sighed.

The last thing Jason wanted was another check from Bruce. Taking over the hard work he had volunteered for months.

Another sanctuary was being taken away from Jason’s grasp.

“I can’t stand it.” Jason whispered. His eyebrows taut.

You maneuvered your head back to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, I know that was the last thing you wanted to happen.” You soothed.

Jason leaned in for more kisses.

“Don’t worry, I’m feeling better already.” He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Jason smiled into your skin, his voice returning to normal. “But looking at those damn crocs every morning makes me mad.”

You laughed as he grew bolder, pushing the topic aside as you leaned to the floor buried from Jason’s affection surge.

If he was deflecting, distracting himself from his hurt then you could let him kiss you a couple times to distract himself.

Shared kisses, lost in each other’s presence, too occupied to notice the multiple buzzing sounds from Jason’s phone.

——

Once the public release of the third and final interview was released to your company’s website, the usual flood of comments embraced the look at the two of you.

You lost yourself in the positive comments, ignoring the negative ones, but that was the price of social media. It was the evils of publicity.

You read comment after comment about the excitement to watch the fresh new season. Iconic racers coming back to their playing field, excited to reveal new car designs, getting the opportunity to collaborate with anyone and everyone.

As the time for Qualifying reached you, the temperature fully warmed and Jason wasn’t next to you to enjoy it.

He had conferences, practice drives, and flights to catch. Now that he was past elimination, it was time to test his fastest time.

It wasn’t even the peak of the season, but you were missing him.

You sighed into your phone, a small vibration felt in your palm. A message from Jason appeared.

It was a photo of his Lightning McQueen crocs on the plane. A big contrast to the fancy carpeting, expensive seats, and an up-to-date screen playing the children’s movie.

You smiled to yourself in your desk chair, but a small prick to your heart struck you.

The difference in your lifestyles hitting you. He was a rich racer, traveling the world in one of the most expensive suits in modern racing.

You felt…small.

The two of you hadn’t talked about what would happen once he started racing full-time again.

How far was this relationship going?

Would you follow him to his races around the world? Should you follow him?

Would you officially announce anything?

Was this an off-season romance? Only an off-season romance?

What about your job?

“Hey, we need to be there by one. Should we grab a quick lunch?” Your coworker called out to you, interrupting your pessimistic thoughts to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Meet you in the lobby?” You locked your computer, grabbing your key badge, ready to go out of the office.

You quickly typed out a message, taking advantage of Jason still on his phone.

You: Hey slow down try to give the other guys a chance

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: fast is the only way I go. you, especially, should know that ;)

You blushed, quickly putting away your phone to catch up with your team.

——

Jason’s performance during qualifying went as expected. He performed in P1, claiming and boasting as he usually did. His time seemed to be getting faster, raising the competition standards for everyone.

You only shook your head as you looked at the results on your phone, a small smile on your face.

Jason was busy going to opening days, press conferences, driving on the racetrack. His replies were becoming sparse.

You: I knew those crocs were good luck charms

No read receipt. No reply.

You kept yourself busy at work. Falling into a routine.

You checked your phone again during lunch. No messages.

Your apartment felt empty when you came home, no lovable man standing in the kitchen.

Still no reply from Jason. It would’ve made you sad if you weren’t so tired.

Your phone rang as you got ready for bed. Letting your head hit the pillow as you heard Jason’s voice in your ear.

“I just saw— paper frogs that—vendor—the street and—grab some.” Jason’s voice went in and out of your mind, fighting the urge to sleep.

His voice was too soothing.

“That’s nice, Jay.” You slurred.

“Sweetheart? Are you awake—“ His voice started to get farther and farther.

You couldn’t keep your eyes open and your dreams filled with you sitting in the stands, watching Jason race.

Wind hitting your skin, watching the flags fly in the air, engines roaring past you.

He was so far away and kept driving further away from you.

You jerked awake. Looking for your phone in the blankets.

You had fallen asleep while on your first phone call with Jason since he left.

“Shit, I wanted to hear his voice.” You shook the blanket in the air until your phone fell from it.

You looked at your call history. Apparently, it had been a video call, but you hadn’t realized after you woke up this morning.

Jason not only heard you embarrass yourself, but he saw it too. You quickly opened your messaging conversation.

You (Yesterday): I knew those crocs were good luck charms

You (Today): i’m sorry I didn’t know it was a video call

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: don’t worry about it, I got to see u when your phone fell off your face

“Nooo!” You screamed to yourself.

Your face fell in your hands as you read the messages coming in.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I got something out of it HAHAHA

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: let’s talk next time

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: I wanna hear your voice

You sighed.

Getting up to start your weekend, putting Jason’s live race on the TV screen.

Putting on the shirt that smelled like Jason.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @gallusstuff @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15

[aimbutmiss]

The first time Crocodile sees Buggy without his makeup, he's taken aback. That doesn't even begin to describe it actually, he is straight up gobsmacked.

Buggy wears his clown makeup proudly all the time (I mean he even managed to do it in prison) but it's actually more than just makeup... it's a mask. That's its main function, other than "looking flashy". He becomes Buggy the Clown, fearsome pirate and now emperor of the sea, whenever he puts it on. His mimics become more exaggerated, his movements and voice turn into that of a showman. Because that is exactly what he is. He puts on a show to the other pirates, the world government, even his own crew. Virtually everyone knows him as his persona. Not a lot of people get to know the barefaced, normal old Buggy. That's why he always has his makeup on, it's an important part of the performance, which has basically taken over his life. So, he puts on his makeup early every morning like a ritual. He feels naked without it. He feels... wrong.

But then, one night, when Crocodile is working overnight at his office yet again (that man is a workaholic) he gets angry at Buggy for whatever reason. He needs a break, an outlet, so he goes the clown's door. What he doesn't expect is to see a very grumpy, barefaced Buggy, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

He says something like "What the hell flashy bastard?! What do you want in the middle of the night?" But Crocodile just... stares. He can't form a single sentence, not even a single thought. He just stares at the clown's - no, Buggy's - face and breathes heavily. His eyes are so vibrant, almost like the actual sea. They have that sleepy glossiness, and they're framed by long blue lashes. Speaking of blue, his hair looks ridiculously soft and fluffy. He is convinced it would look ridiculous on anyone else, but on Buggy it just looks right, almost regal, the blue waves falling over his shoulders. His lips look stained from the lipstick he always has on... or are they just naturally that red? He unconsciously licks his lips. This is bad. He doesn't even remember why he came here, so he just leaves because it's just too much. Buggy yells after him for waking him up for nothing, and Croc can't even find it in himself to get angry.

The next day, when Crocodile sees Mihawk, he starts the conversation with a very peculiar question, in Mihawk's opinion. "Have you ever seen the clown without his stupid makeup?" Mihawk is intrigued because 1) Croc looks pissed and 2) why would he suddenly care about Buggy's makeup, when he's shown zero interest in anything about him? He wants to see where this goes, so he answers honestly: "Yes, I indeed have. Why do you ask?" It doesn't take Dracule "hawk eyes" Mihawk long to catch on to what's going on when the man before him stomps away instead of answering. Let's just say he makes fun of him for days after that.

The next few guild meetings are very awkward for Buggy because the environment is tense, and he has no idea why. If only he knew...

[covetyou]

chaste

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: chastity pollen (the opposite of sex pollen - our man can't fuck), mention of past drug use, masturbation, not phone sex but phone sex adjacent, brief mention of Dieter pissing (twice), cock and ball pain (not cock and ball torture), a brief thing with a glove that isn't sexy at all for anyone involved but it's there, the vaguest of dub-con for the ending (Dee sends you pictures of his dick that you didn't ask for/technically said no to but jerk off to anyway) word count: 2.6k summary: Off the back of a two week retreat to the middle of fuck knows where Dieter Bravo doesn't seem quite himself. You soon figure out why.

A/N: @sp00kymulderr reblogged this post and said someone needed to write a Dieter Chastity Pollen fic, so I did it.

Reader is entirely gender neutral, no mention of any hair, size, shape, genitals, holes, tits, nothin'.

Sorry to Joel and Tim for neglecting you, you were meant to be done this week but I hate your existence currently and Dieter brings me comfort.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Deiter, breakfast!"

Anyone would be fooled in thinking you were calling for a dog. No, Dieter was very much human. Most of the time.

You dump the takeout bag on the kitchen island and look around. He'd been back one day and the place was already more of a mess than when you left it yesterday. His robe was hung over the stair rail and an errant croc almost tripped you as you walked in. It was safe to say that Dieter Bravo was definitely home.

"Dieter!" You shout again, expecting to hear his feet stomping upstairs any moment.

Instead, a feeble croak comes from the other side of the couch. "I'm here."

Craning your neck, you look over the sofa to see Dieter laying there, arm flung over his face and totally, utterly nude.

"Jesus f-, Dee. Put some fucking clothes on."

"No point."

"You have an interview in an hour Dee, at least put a fucking shirt on. I brought you breakfast."

"What's the point in anything?"

You stop in your tracks. It's not that you weren't used to encountering an apathetic Dieter Bravo. It was pretty common actually, usually at the slightest inconvenience. But having just come back from a two week vacation to some pot head retreat, you assumed he'd be bouncing off the walls and easy to get on with. Easier, anyway. But, Dieter was miserable. Errant KitKat wrappers were on the floor around him and he was laying spread eagle, completely naked, on his couch.

You knew to tread carefully when he was like this, so putting the takeout bag back down as quietly as you can, you move to sit gingerly on the arm of the couch.

"What happened, Dee?" you say softly, moving a KitKat wrapper from near his face.

Dieter flings an arm out to the side and sighs dramatically. His face is still covered, but you can see he's pouting from over his arm.

"My life is ruined, that's what happened."

You'd lost count of the amount of times his life had been ruined by something or other, usually someone or something else that had fucked up or not gone to plan. Dieter Bravo never ruined his own life, of course. So, grateful that he can't see you, you pinch your nose and roll your eyes. At this rate, you were going to have to cancel on Variety. Again.

"Dieter, I know it feels that way, but I'm sure it's not that bad. We can fig- "

"It is that bad," he cuts in with a huff, suddenly hauling himself upright on the couch. "Just look."

You follow his dramatic gesture downward to where his cock hangs limply between his legs.

"That's your cock, Dee. It's always been there."

You'd seen it before. Many times in fact. Probably more often than most PAs had seen their employers genitals, to be honest. Seeing Dieter Bravo naked was one of those things that just happened. In the grand scheme of things, it was one of the most normal ways a person could ever see him. As it was, you'd seen him in far more compromising situations than sat on his couch with his dick out.

Looking at you with a strange kind of urgency in his eyes, he pleads with you. "But look at it."

Standing, you round the couch and look down at him with your hands on your hips.

It looks normal. You'd seen it enough to know that his foreskin wrinkled just like that, his balls sat soft just as they were, and his pubic hair was groomed just as it always was.

Except... it didn't move. Not a twitch or a flicker along the entire soft length. He was more flaccid than he had probably ever been and, for whatever reason, he was staying that way. You frown, letting your brows meet in the middle.

"See."

"What..." you trail off, trying to work out what the fuck was going on. You had seen him soft before, but usually within a few minutes of you talking, typically with him staring at your mouth as it moved, likely imagining you licking his balls or sucking his cock, he would begin to harden. In fact, simply stare at his dick for a few seconds and something was bound to happen. Dieter Bravo was so painfully easy to turn on it was almost endearing. And yet, he was still soft.

He slumps back, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

"It's been like this all week. I can't do anything with it."

"What do you mean you can't do anything?" you say in confusion. For all the things Dieter had tried to do with his cock over the years, he, and by proxy, you, had learnt of the many many things his cock could not do. Saying it couldn't do anything didn't really reveal much and was likely a typical Dieter exaggeration.

"Anything! I can't touch it, I can't fuck with it, I can't even make myself hard. It's just there. Useless."

"Your cock is not useless, Dee, I promis-"

"I have to piss sitting down."

"Oh."

A few simple words and the gravity of the situation suddenly hits you. Dieter was a man who took great joy in pissing. Sometimes you thought a little too much joy, but you weren't going to judge. There were weirder things he could be into. But one of those joys came in the form of being able to unzip his pants and piss just about anywhere he pleased. There were other things he liked doing with his cock too, but if he couldn't even stand to pee, you knew whatever was going on was a big deal.

You meet his eyes again, seeing how slumped and dejected he looks, and you don't know what to say. Usually you could find a solution for anything, but Dieter Bravo is the last person you expected to have cock troubles. Luckily for you, he can't keep his mouth shut for long, and after another big sigh, blinking back tears that you swear just might fall from his eyes, words spew out of his mouth in a stream of consciousness.

"I went on that fucking retreat, and they had this new strain, and I tried it, and ever since I've just been," he waves his hands desperately in the air, "like this."

"Wait -"

"And now what am I gonna do? What if I can never come again? Who the fuck even am I if I can't come again?"

"Dieter."

"I can feel it too. It's like my blood feels horny but my cock is the opposite of horny and I can't do anything about it -"

"Dee, slow down - "

"Even if I touch it it's like I'm getting fuckin' electrocuted. It's like ZAP straight to my cock and balls, through my fingers, down my arm. My cock is going to kill me."

He finally stops, taking a deep breath as he flops back again with a desperate whine. His cock flops with him, falling sideways to rest on his leg, and he looks at it with a dramatic sob. He couldn't even move it off of himself if he wanted to.

The couch dips when you sit next to him, kicking yet another KitKat wrapper away. Despite everything, his dick still looks normal. By rights, after the things he'd stuck it in, it had no right to look normal, almost pretty, but it did. Whatever had happened at that retreat, whatever god awful thing he smoked, he was lucky this was all he got. A week of forced celibacy was nothing. For most people, anyway.

Looking at you out of the side of his eyes you can see a glimmer of a question flick across his face. You already know what he's going to ask. "Dieter, no."

"Can you try touching it?"

"No."

"Please! Not even in a sexy way this time, just... just a little bit?" he looks at you with those stupid puppy dog eyes that would have just about anyone else giving in to him. You knew better, and he usually knew better than to use them on you. They were never going to work on you.

So, you don't know what possesses you when you nod, mumbling something about grabbing some gloves from the first aid box in the kitchen. When you return, Dieter is sat with his knees wide, looking at you expectantly. Snapping a glove around your wrist you crouch in front of him and move to reach out when he stops you.

"Just a little touch," he says with a waver in his voice. You can't imagine it. The poor man had probably gone back to his room with the weed haze still licking at his bones, peeling his clothes from his body before falling into bed. He would have reached down to give his little Dee a tug goodnight, only to be met with the shock of his life. You'd be terrified too if you were him.

"I'll go slow," you say, trying to reassure him as much as you could. In a few months time you'd laugh about this, if it all blew over quickly, but right now it was impossible to get the fearful look in his eyes out of your head.

Reaching out again, you get an inch from his cock. It still hasn't twitched or moved at all, even with the threat of your impending touch. You look up at Dieter, giving him a nod. "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, he nods back at you.

As the tip of your gloved finger barely grazes the skin of his flaccid dick, his hips buck up and he throws himself back away from you.

"A-ah! Shitting fuck! Ouch."

You still, eyes wide and panicked. You didn't feel anything but Dieter very obviously did. He's curling in on himself, trying not to writhe with the pain of the sharp zap straight to his cock directly where you touched him.

"Did you feel that?" he says, from the ball he's curled himself into. You shake your head, biting your lips in concern. "Are you kidding me?! You touch me and I'm the one who gets zapped? How is any of this fair."

"I'm not the one who smoked some mystery weed, Dieter."

"I'm going to die."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am. My cock is going to fall off because I can't touch it, and I'm going to die cockless and alone."

"No. No, look, it'll be okay. We'll give it another week, and if things aren't back to normal we'll call a doctor, get it seen to," you pat him gently on the knee and watch as he feebly nods in agreement. "Alright. Let's get you dressed, okay? We'll put your dick away for now -"

"May as well put it away forever, never gonna need it again..."

"- for now, and get you ready for your interview."

Nodding with watery eyes, Dieter lets you bundle his robe around him and take him upstairs. He complains the entire time you're fixing his hair that his dick feels wrong in his boxers, whines when you finally sit him down in front of the camera and join the call. But, two minutes in and some particularly good questions later, the fake smile he'd plastered on turns real and his cock sits soft and forgotten between his legs. At least, for a little while.

It was going to be a long week.

Four days later, at 4:23am, you're awoken by the harsh ringing of your phone. Your eyes can't focus, but at this time it could only be one person.

You fumble for a second before swiping to accept the call, slapping the phone to the side of your face with an arm that doesn't seem to have woken up properly yet.

"I'm hard! My dick is hard," are the first words that come tumbling out of his mouth. Dieter sounds positively ecstatic, if a little breathless.

Stifling a yawn and rubbing your eyes you smile in relief at his words. "That's great, Dee."

"I woke up for a piss, and stood there, stood there, pissing. Didn't even realize at first - shit that's good - had to go back and touch it in the mirror to see. No zap!"

"No zap!" you try to say enthusiastically through another yawn, barely registering the wet rhythmic noise coming through the phone.

"I'm so happy I want to kiss it. I want to kiss my dick!"

"Please don't try to kiss it, Dee, your back isn't doing great as it is." You hear him sigh and mumble a soft God I've missed you so much and it confuses you for a moment until you realize he's not talking about you.

"Do you know how good this feels? I've never felt something this good in my life, I swear it. So - fuck - so good."

You are fully awake now, staring wide eyed at your bedroom ceiling. The wet noises are clear as day. "Are you... are you jerking off?"

"Well, yeah. Haven't stopped. Do you know how quick I got hard? I'm like a fucking rock, here, let me send you a picture." Putting you on speaker, you hear the phone clatter as Dieter fumbles with it.

"Dee, no, no look, it's okay. I don't need a picture. You enjoy yourself. I'll cancel your meetings for the day so you can have some alone time."

Dieter groans, mumbling softly to you down the speaker. "You're an angel."

"I'm your PA. It's my job. Goodnight, Dee," and you slump back asleep as soon as you hang up.

At 7am your alarm sounds, and you startle awake, fairly certain you'd had a dream about Dieter's cock. Scanning through your notifications on your way to the bathroom, you spot a series of messages from the man himself.

A slew of excitable texts, a few missed calls and, finally, pictures. You hadn't dreamed it at all and it seemed that Dieter Bravo's cock was finally hard, and you had all the proof of that right in front of you. First his dick clutched firmly in his hand, glistening red tip poking from between the fingers as he hunches over to get his smiling face in the frame to give you a thumbs up. He sent you a profile view picture too, hands free, and you can see just how hard he is by how stiffly his length juts out from between his hips.

Finally, and maybe most importantly, a short video. His hand moves quickly up and down his cock, stiff and engorged in his fist, voice coming through the speaker in loud pained groans. If you didn't know better, if you hadn't witnessed first hand what Dieter Bravo sounded like with his cock hurting, you'd swear he was in agony. A few seconds later and you watch his balls seem to swell and tighten before his tip twitches to life, spurting again and again and again all over his fist, trickling down his fingers, his balls and onto the sheet below as he comes seemingly endlessly.

"Oh shit, oh shiiit," he groans in the recording.

By the time he finishes, fist slowing to a stop around his length and his slit finally ceasing its erupting, cum coats just about everything in the frame.

And then he laughs. Dieter Bravo, cock in hand at 5am and covered in his own cum, laughs in disbelief as he is finally, blissfully able to come.

You shake your head as the recording cuts off and you climb into the shower, setting your phone out of the way in a nook opposite the flow of water. You hit play again.

And again.

And again.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[purplecobra52]

How I'd fix Zoochosis: (These are just my opinions, also I haven't seen the full game so some of this might be redundant.)

-Change it so that Doc isn't the actual owner of the Zoo, and instead is just another zookeeper with no real power. He wouldn't be innocent of the experiments going on at the Zoo, but it wouldn't actually be his fault. He just doesn't have strong moral convictions like the protagonist does and is more easily bribed by the good pay and fancy benefits.

-Make the villains be the greedy executive heads of the Zoo. They pushed for the experiments to happen.

-Get rid of the C.J cheating thing. It serves no purpose other than to make his wife hang up on you, which could easily be changed. Other than that, it's a useless plot point that just makes Sarah (Is that her name?) even more unlikable.

-Make it so you can save the mutated animals. Remind them of who they were, re-domesticate them, any bullshit will do. Have the protagonist have actual sympathy for the animals and try to save them, which sets them apart from the previous zookeepers and is ultimately what helps them stay alive.

-Empathy could be a really good theme. Also, conservation of animals and environment.

-Make the animals accurate FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Zebras aren't horses and will kick the shit out of you. Wallabies are not the size of kangaroos. Hippos are an incarnation of Satan. Even giraffes are really dangerous, not because they're defensive, but because they're freaking huge and really curious and will accidentally stomp all over you.

-Have more variety in the types of animals. As it is, they're all mammals except for the penguins (I think the Elephant could stand to go, it's by far the weakest mutated design in my humble opinion. And maybe the wallaby.) Add a swarm of insects and birds that can mimic a human form. Add sharks and have a mini message about the demonization of sharks in media. Add lizards. ADD CROCODILES AND HAVE A MUTATED MOTHER CROC THAT ONLY ATTACKS IF YOU GET CLOSE TO HER BABIES

-Get rid of the stupid boss fights, make the animals actively stalk you instead

-Make Mother less of a villain. It doesn't need an "Oh it was a human that got turned into a monster" sort of thing, more of a "Mother, eldritch being that it is, is just as much of an animal as the giraffes and it doesn't understand why it's being expirimented on and hurt. It's just as angry and scared and confused as any of the mutated animals.

-Add a dinosaur for shits and giggles

[younmexreaders]

~~ Crocodile x Reader 18+ ~~

This is written for @quinloki, I hope you enjoy!

Only You

On the roof of Rain Dinners, you and Crocodile finally have a moment to talk about something you overheard, leading to your first time having sex with him.

Gender Neutral reader/Sir Crocodile | 2848 Words

Includes:

Hand job (Croc receiving)

Anal sex (reader receiving)

Degradation and praise

Croc has a big dick

First time with Crocodile

You had heard enough. 

From behind the door, you could hear his voice, dripping with charm and sweet-talking Ms. All Sunday. He called her soft things that you had foolishly thought were meant for you alone. You heard him pause suddenly when you stomped away. Perhaps he heard you or saw you, but whichever it was, you weren’t going to stick around.

Climbing the many stairs, you left for the office on the highest floor of Rain Dinners, going to the balcony to be alone in the fresh air. The desert was dry and cold, of course, but being out under the stars was exactly what you needed right now. 

The moon was hidden above the chin of the massive golden bananawani that sat on the very top of Rain Dinners, bathing you in a chilly shadow. Despite the discomfort you were beginning to feel, you refused to turn around. You needed to be away. If you had anywhere else to go, you would have left. There just… wasn’t anywhere else to be.

Perhaps that’s where some of the hurt was coming from. He used the pet names and the honeyed language so flippantly. You just couldn’t help feeling jealous - for lack of a better word. Maybe the better word is gullible. That was it. You felt stupid for believing his lies, for thinking those pet names meant something else when turned on you.

The glass door clicked shut behind you, making you tense and your thoughts pause. You refused to turn around.

Heavy footsteps approached, a very tall figure taking the space beside you. A massive, golden hook entered your view, cloaked immediately by a black overcoat hanging on his shoulders. You turned away from him, propping your cheek up on your arm. He was silent, the only indicator of his annoyance were the eyes burning into the back of your skull. Crocodile dug into his coat pocket for a cigar, holding it between his teeth as he used his lighter.

“Out with it,” he huffed, a cloud of smoke following his words.

You bit your lip, trying to muster the courage to speak. The words were stuck in your throat, a bitter mix of anger and hurt. Finally, you sighed, your shoulders dropping, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

"You don't have to pretend with me, you know," you said quietly, staring out at the desert. "I heard you with Ms. All Sunday. The pet names, the sweet talk... It made me realize how easy it is for you to say those things without meaning them."

His eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that what's bothering you? You think I’m just playing games?"

"I don't know what to think," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I just... I just don’t want to be another pawn in whatever scheme you're running."

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar, exhaling slowly. "You give yourself too much credit," he said, his tone harsh. "I don’t waste my time on things that don't matter."

You flinched at his words, but you couldn’t let it go. "Then what am I to you? Just another tool? Another means to an end?"

He turned to face you fully, his gaze intense. "You're more than that, but if you want to keep questioning everything, you’ll never see it."

Silence hung between you both, thick and suffocating. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away, not wanting to show any more weakness.

"I don’t know if I can believe you," you whispered.

Crocodile sighed, flicking the ash from his cigar. His next words were softer, almost begrudging. "The truth is, it has always been you. From the beginning. If I didn’t care, you wouldn't be here.”

Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest. You turned to look at him, seeing a rare vulnerability in his eyes.

He continued, keeping your gaze. "And you should know by now that I don’t let people I don’t care about stay. The fact you can call this place home should tell you everything.”

You let the words linger, watching his face for something that would betray him. But there was nothing. His eyes softened towards you, his demeanor less rigid than you had ever seen before. He placed his hand on your hip and pulled you away from the railing, pressing your waist into his.

“Understand now?” he asked, blowing a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth, away from you.

“I do,” you nodded, your hands resting on his chest. His presence was wonderfully warm compared to the cold outside. You stepped closer to him, looking up at him with your glistening eyes still wet from your previous tears. Crocodile wrapped his coat around you, bringing you back inside to his office.

“Good…” he hummed, pausing by his desk and directing you to the door. “Lock that.”

You furrowed your brow, doing as he directed and closing the door, locking it and returning to find him snuffing his cigar in the ashtray, his coat resting on the back of the chair.

“You’ve caused a lot of stress, you know,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“I know… I’m sorry,” you said, lowering your head. Crocodile’s hook entered your view, the point threatening your flesh as he lifted your chin to look at him. You met his mischievous gaze and his sinister grin.

“Show me you mean it.”

That glint in his eyes wasn’t new, you could tell what he was insinuating. As the warmth rushed to your face, you trailed your gaze down his broad chest to his belt, keeping your chin lifted to avoid his hook. 

“Get to it. I can see you salivating,” he said, releasing your chin.

Crocodile was a mountain of a man. You barely had to kneel to reach his pants, unbuckling his belt and opening his fly to access his hefty, flaccid cock. You gripped it firmly, rubbing it until it stiffened. As you did so, Crocodile undressed himself, leaving his vest, ascot, and shirt on the desk beside him.

You stroked Crocodile until he stood at attention. His cock was thick and heavy, standing tall from his pelvis. You tentatively licked the tip, kissing it softly from there to the base then back to the top. Once there, you wrapped your lips on the head and bobbed slowly onto it, taking more and more into your mouth with each pass. This wasn’t the first time Crocodile had you down on your knees. Metaphorically.

“That’s it. Cock hungry little slut,” Crocodile chuckled, watching you with darkened eyes.

You stroked him as you sucked, rubbing your saliva into every crease. You licked all along the shaft, looking up to catch his gaze with your half lidded eyes. You gripped his hip and bobbed on his cock, allowing it to slip into your throat. Hot and wet, you had to shut your eyes tight to focus.

Crocodile groaned softly, a curse hissing past his teeth. His noises made your heart flutter. You loved to hear him enjoying your throat. His hand settled on your head, following you as you bobbed and licked and sucked. His cock was coated until it glistened. It was as stiff as it could be, veins beginning to pulse along the length.

You reached under yourself. You grazed a hand up and along your sensitivity, moaning as you slathered your tongue all over Crocodile’s piece. You wanted to feel good with him. Desperate for friction on your own body.

“That’s enough,” he said suddenly. You halted and pulled away. “Undress. Get on the desk.”

You followed his direction, setting your clothes aside and climbing onto the desk, awaiting your next direction on all fours.

“You’re a greedy, impatient little thing. Keep going. I’ll take care of you,” he said, gesturing to his lap. You leaned down, stroking him once more. With your focus on his cock, you didn’t notice him wetting his fingers. He wrapped his arm around you and teased his thick fingers against your tight hole, making you squeak.

His dark chuckle made you shudder. You kissed his tip and stroked him quickly. Taking in his cock stuck your behind in the air, giving Crocodile the perfect opportunity to tease your hole. He pushed a finger in and you groaned, the sound vibrating your throat. His finger worked its way into your tightness, prodding around inside you. His thrusting was slow.

Your focus was split. The pleasure only increased as you felt your hole getting stretched by another finger. Both taking their time to explore and prod inside of you. You wanted to keep your pace, but you faltered and stuttered your work with every press deeper into you.

Watching you unwind made Crocodile’s cock throb. The strain in your brows as you tried to focus. The lecherous sounds you made as you slobbered all over him and moaned at the pleasure. A trickle of pre cum began to leak from his tip.

“Listen to you. You love the taste of my dick, don’t you? You’re so needy,” he panted softly, thrusting his fingers faster. “I love when you make that sound.”

His cock throbbed again and you tighten your grasp slightly. You did love his taste, nodding to tell him so. You couldn’t wait for him to burst so you could finally drink every drop he had.

“As much as I love your hunger, I want something a little more.”

You hesitated, looking up at him. He pulled his fingers out of your ass and gripped your meaty behind. You didn’t respond, burning hot but staying quiet. Crocodile’s smile fell.

“Are you still too nervous?” he asked.

“I… I want to try, I do,”

Crocodile slicked his hair back and took your hand, guiding you close to him. Leaning down, he pecked your lips. The smell of smoke was still on his breath. You sat up to feather kisses on the scar crossing the bridge of his nose. 

“If you ask me to be gentle, I might consider it,” Crocodile hummed close to your lips. “I want to see how tight you are.” You thought about it, idly pecking as you mulled it over. This step had to be taken eventually, right? And you loved him. How he felt and tasted and sounded. He would feel incredible inside you. You were sure of it.

You took a breath as you slid closer, feeling his warmth build your own into a raging fire of desire. 

You had come this far… and you wanted to try. At least once you wanted to try and show him why he was right to keep you around. Why you're the one who deserves all those beautiful little words.

“Crocodile, please,” you moaned, the sound low and desperate as you arch your back further into his grip. “Please, I need you inside me. Please, I want to feel you stretch me so deep inside,” you begged. “Please, be gentle with me. I want to see if you fit in my tight little ass,” you turned your half lidded eyes on his amused expression. 

“Such a cute little slut. You really know how to beg, don't you?” He asked, his hook resting just under your chin again as he made you tilt your head back even more. He loved the way you moved even in these tense moments. Your sweat dewed flesh bared and flushed for him. Only him. 

“Well then. If you put it that way, who am I to say no?” He smiled faintly, his brow cocked above the other. “Lay back,” he nudged you to lay flat on your back with your legs pinned up and apart. It was a demeaning position, but when his hot breath caressed your thighs you found you didn't really mind. 

“Try and relax for me, sweetheart,” he warned as he took a bottle of something slick and cold from the desk drawer and let it run between your ass cheeks and along your throbbing hole. You shuddered at the feeling, closing your eyes as you took a breath to steel yourself. 

The shudder turned to a jump as you felt his massive manhood settle between your cheeks, the tip visible to you between your own legs. If you didn't know better you would have thought there was an arm grinding against you at that moment from the pure length and girth of Crocodile’s cock. The heat of it reminded you otherwise though.

He took a moment to get himself and your ass thoroughly lubricated, holding your legs up as he rocked his hips back and forth. The veins of his equipment pulsed and were rubbing so deliciously against your hungry hole. It was building up into a grazing pleasure in the pit of your stomach, each second bringing more. 

Before you knew it you felt his hips shift and the tip of his thick cock kiss your hole. You knew dread wasn't going to help, so you turned all of your focus to maintaining your breathing. You just needed to stay calm and it might fit. Right? 

Your worry is written all over your face as you look down at the monster taking aim at your delicate hole.

You almost missed Crocodile's words until he stopped and grabbed your hand. “Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!” He snapped. His tone is sharp but his eyes show concern. That softness from earlier under the stars. “If you can't take it just tap out now.” He growled. “I'll try again when you're--”

“I can do it!” You reply, your eyes screwed shut as your hand tightens around his. “Just-” you suck in a breath to calm your frantic heart. “Just- oh fuck it-!” 

You lurched forward and caught his mouth in a deep kiss, pushing him inside of yourself without his help. You tensed up for a second at the intrusion. The heat was so much more intense than you imagined. Your chest froze for only a moment before you feel a careful hand scoop you up and support your weight.

“Breathe for me, sugar,” his honeyed voice whispered in your ear, his lips laying kisses on your neck. “Breathe. You're doing great" he soothed, rubbing circles on your back as you relax and find yourself slipping slowly further down his length with every breath.

Each moment brought another wave of unstoppable sensation. Incredible pleasure mixed with an indescribable feeling of fullness. You blindly searched and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gasping and shuddering against his chest as you're overwhelmed with the feeling of being opened so wide and so deep.

“C-Croc-” you started to messily moan, trying to move your hips on your own. “Please~ it's so big-” you cried against his skin. You looked up and saw an unusual expression on his face. His eyes are wide in surprise, but he's biting his lip as he watches you move. He's never seen anything quite this sexy before. 

“You've done enough doll. I've got it from here.” 

You felt as he laid you back down on the desk. His hook dug into the wood as he braced himself and started to slowly thrust into you. You see stars with every press, the top of his length crushing something inside of you that felt so unbelievably new. What was that? You didn't have the time nor capacity to understand, only left to bask in the feeling of this new place getting claimed by Crocodile.

“You're so tight- I'm gonna cum already, baby.” He warned. You couldn't even respond in words, only crying out ecstatic moans while your hands clawed at the desk below you. 

It happened like an explosion. As Crocodile moaned lowly, you felt his cock twitch harder, then begin shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you. Your insides flooded with his seed and the feeling sent you toppling over your own edge. You curled around him while your hole twitched and seized around him, locking you two together for the duration of your mutual climax. 

You didn't even realize it was over until you felt him sit up. He slicks his hair back from his face, and slowly pulls his softened length from your hole. The motion causes the remainder of his lust to dribble out onto the now ruined surface of his desk. 

“Damn. Gonna need to get a new one now,” he muttered, stepping away to get something. You laid with your head in a daze, spent and winded from the event. You almost felt too empty without him inside you. Already, you were hoping he’d do it again.

You were suddenly picked up and wrapped in his cloak. You hadn't noticed him getting dressed beside you. Before you know it he's taken you to his room, laying you on his large bed. “What are you-” 

“Good job doll.” he says simply as he drops next to you, pulling you against his broad chest and pet your side. “That was incredible.”

[hislittleraincloud]

...*SSSSSSSSSSIGHS, opens wallet*