#better op than a cop

[variouslengthsofwire]

Fuck it, I’m reblogging, and putting my tag essay in the post.

There was a Walmart near me that suffered from a large amount of theft/shoplifting. You know what they did? They closed the Walmart. All of those jobs - gone. Only, it was the anchor store of a struggling mall in a majority black neighborhood that is now dying.

Hundreds of jobs are gone. Dozens of small businesses closed. Maybe most would have closed anyway, there were already some empty storefronts in the mall. But now, pretty much no one there has a chance. Half the food court stalls are empty at any given time, and restaurants rotate in and out, failing very quickly.

That mall was and could have remained a great, fairly low-cost, medium traffic place to start a small business. An easy entry point with some hope of success. Black business owners selling to Black customers, keeping money local in their community. Now, there’s really no hope. People can’t succeed there because there’s no foot traffic.

Of course no one shoplifter is responsible for killing the Walmart and all those other businesses. But sometimes our actions have unintended consequences. Major corporations aren’t going to take losses forever. If you make a store unprofitable or too difficult to manage, they close it, and people lose jobs. An area becomes (even more, if it was relying on a Walmart) economically depressed.

People who relied on that store for medications (Walmart is often the cheapest place to get certain prescriptions, especially insulin) are SOL. Sometimes they don’t close the place, but put things behind glass doors and make you talk to an employee to get them. This can limit access when there aren’t enough employees. I once waited 15 minutes for cold meds for my wife that didn’t contain an ingredient she can’t have (these can be very hard to find in stock) before giving up because I was late to pick her up, there were 3 other people waiting by that point, and it was clear that no one was coming. There can also be language barrier and disability access issues, especially with some store policies dictating that the employee be the one to handle the merchandise, so the customer can’t just pick it out.

So yeah, theft from big corporations is fine when the big corporation is the only party harmed. But that’s simply not the case a lot of the time. Be more careful about it. Only take what you need. And be aware that you might be hurting the people you intend to help.

Yall gotta stop stealing. Not for any specific objective moral reason but because you fucking suck at it

[helianthologies]

by far the worst part about deciding to marathon all the saw movies is looking at letterboxd reviews where ppl call jigsaw a "socialist king". what the FUCK are you talking about. john kramer is not a cool leftist he thinks addicts are ontologically evil. he is just some old man

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[bruciemilf]

ope don't mind me i'm just gonna-- *sets this down next to your constantine post*

The batkids have all fallen in line like Thomas is their superior officer and they've all basically decided Dick is getting thrown on the pyre (because cop) when Jason slowly raises his hand like he's back in school.

Jason, who lives for chaos, putting on the Sad Orphan Eyes that Dick taught all of them how to do, saying "Abuelo, you know I died? The clown who killed me is still alive."

All the other kids jump in with "oh he's right nonno" etc etc "don't worry bambini your nonno will take care of it" etc etc

(and while Thomas and Martha aren't exactly thrilled Jason is a crime lord, he's so much better at it than fucking Carmine. So the boy is ambitious! There are worse things to be. Thomas then slips Jason a fiver when Bruce isn't looking like grandparents do)

((also also the kids calling martha and thomas grandma/grandpa in whatever other language they grew up speaking))

just thinking that thomas highkey loves being a grandparent. absolutely considers it a promotion. softest pushover of a man but also the scary dog privilege for all of his grandchildren

NONNO THATS SO ADORABLE IM GONNA CRY— ok. But you know what? Pepa and Felix from Encanto dynamic between Martha, Thomas and Alfred.

Alfred trying to tell their grandkids about the epic love story between them, and Thomas keeps on interjecting with wildly inaccurate information (he wants Damian to find him as cool as possible)

Martha, with moscow in her voice, “You’re telling the story or is he?”

“I’m sorry amore go on ^^”

Bruce gags in the background like the world’s firstborn hypocrite.

But also, southern Thomas Wayne,,, wears the fringe styled boots with gemstones on them and sparkly jacket and talks like a honey pie, but has a glare that can silence a whole table if needed be.

He’s extremely sad about Destiny’s Child breaking up, (Dick had to deliver the news, which was a whole other experience) but BEYONCÉ HAS A COUNTRY ALBUM YOU SAY?? Sign him the FUCK up.

Bruce, under his breath: no one listens to country,,,

Thomas: oh shut i. You know, your mama and I made YOU on the dinner table with Love is a Butterfly playing in the background—-

Jason: rapidly spits his food out

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Together we fill gaps

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Angst, Drinking

AN: You've all been treating me so much with your feedback with this series and I'm so happy to get another part out for you guys! Hope you enjoy 💕 Also, as it's come up a couple times, if you read this series and want to make something inspired by it then PLEASE go ahead, I'll be excited to see what you guys make!

Part 4 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

You waited outside the dark double doors of the meeting room like a sinner before confession, hands wringing at your sides and eyes full and wide, ready to plead for mercy. You’d even managed to bite your tongue a couple times because you were trying so hard not to look like you’d done something wrong; mind practically melting with the cold hard fact that you had. 

Even after being told to stay away from König in the heat of an ongoing operation, after being told exactly who he is on numerous occasions in fact, you’d still gone against their word and your better judgement. You’d kissed him.

You felt like a walking TV disaster, the kind of person in the movie that you watch and you yell ‘why the hell would you do that?’ to the screen while they throw their lives away on bad decisions. And now you were being called into some meeting that Price had arranged - without telling you its purpose - you could almost hear the Jaws theme flaring behind your ears. It made your mouth dry up. 

You were your own worst enemy, trapped in your mind as the rickety scaffolding collapsed around you. You’d clawed onto thoughts of how the meeting was going to go while losing yourself to the memory of König’s possessive grip around your waist and the phantom feeling of tingles swelling on your lips. 

You were going to end up buried in the fallout and there’d be no one to blame but yourself. 

“You’re early,” Price rumbled behind you.

You snapped your head around to the sound of his voice and pursed your lips, already feeling a cold flash race down your spine. You’d been more excited to rush into firefights than you were to go into that meeting, and that went double when you noticed Ghost following behind the Captain.

“Figured it’d help,” you said breathlessly, hoping he’d recognise your good intentions. 

Price grunted and Ghost said nothing. They brushed past you and walked into the depths of the meeting room, turning on the light as if they were about to start an investigator routine. You doubted either of them would play the good cop, that much was obvious. However you did wonder what they knew, what they’d found out since you’d come back from the mission.

Did either of them know about the kiss? 

You sighed and walked forward, feeling impossibly heavy and gut wrenchingly anxious. Every step was another closer to your telling off - something you rarely had to face up to. And before too long you were standing over a seat they’d pulled out for you and begrudgingly lowered yourself into it, facing the steely eyed men situated across from you. 

It didn’t help that the chair felt like a torture device. Hard pieces of ripped leather dug into your skin from the back and the lumpy cushion had you shifting in place, making you look even guiltier. Just great, as if you needed to look any worse in front of them. 

“So,” Price began, leaning forward over his chair, “Ghost filled me in on the op yesterday - in private.”

He’d neglected to take his seat, opting instead to lean over it like he might lunge at you at any given time. His eyes were harsh, swirling with the warning of an oncoming storm. 

You swallowed a hard lump in your throat - trying not to think about the way it felt like ingesting a bowling ball. It sounded almost as loud, the room was deadly silent save for the stuttering clock on the wall and the sound of your collective breathing. You’d sat down in a horror set of your own creation. 

“I’m sure you know why that was,” Ghost said, staring across at you with an almost piteous look.

His eyes were stony behind his skull mask, shadowed and layered thickly with a seriousness you’d never known before, not even during your work with him. He wasn’t ready to pounce on you like Price, but he certainly wasn’t going to save you from him either.

“Because I went against your orders,” you murmured.

“Speak up,” Price growled, going as far as to use your real name.

Well that wasn’t good.

“I went against your orders,” you said again, voice clear and unwavering. 

Even despite the looney tunes levels of fear you felt, you knew not to disobey the Captain when he shouted at you like that. You spoke like you were on stage, addressing the nation. 

“You did,” Ghost confirmed, straightening up. “Can you tell us what your orders were?”

You bit your lip, wrangling it between your teeth like tasting blood might dose you up in some way. The skin felt fit to burst like a honeydew, already worn from the night before’s activities. Perhaps the physical pain would distract you from the way Price and Ghost were looking at you as if they were ready to string you up like a war criminal, distract you from thinking about König even while they did so. 

“My orders were to wait downstairs with Gaz and Soap and keep watch for any stragglers,” you finally said, recalling the exact words he’d barked at you before you were tossed downstairs to the corpse pile. 

“And what did you do?”

“I…I lost it when I realised what was going on upstairs and I- I disobeyed the order and tried to go into the room we’d located the hostage.”

“And why was that?” Price asked this time, his eyes boring into yours.

“I- I don’t know,” you faltered, digging your nails hard into your palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He sneered.

“I- I-...Captain, I don’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t like what we were doing, what we were enabling, and I acted before I thought. I-”

“Acted before you thought,” Price interrupted, coming around from his chair and advancing toward you. “You act before you think again and next time it’s not Ghost reprimanding you, next time you could end up with a bullet in the head, or who knows? Maybe you walk out onto a landmine because you wanted to skip off and smell the fucking roses!”

You breathed in and backed up in your chair, leather carving into your back as you did so, heartbeat wrenching upwards into an absurd chorus. You could barely focus on Price as he walked toward you and snarled like a wounded animal, ready to take you down himself before let any stray bullet pierce you.

“It won’t happen again, Captain,” you quavered, trying to hold onto what little of your strength you could. “It was stupid and reckless. It’s not the kind of person I am, and I- I let myself down. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“You’re damn right you let yourself down,” Price muttered. “Let yourself down all in the name of some crush you have as well, because don’t think that i don’t know exactly why you wanted into that room - exactly who you were trying to get at! I trusted that after our little talk you’d be able to keep a safe distance from König and keep things professional, but clearly I overestimated you…So, because of your actions, and in the interest of getting the 141 back alive and safe in future without worrying about what you might unthinkingly do, you’re not to speak to him again, do I make myself clear?”

Every fibre in your being wanted to scream and lash out. You wanted to stand up and face Price and tell him he couldn’t order you to do that, that König wasn’t on the team so he couldn’t stop you from seeing him. Though, you knew if you did it was a one way ticket to getting booted back home and god knows if it would be a permanent trip or just a stint to sort you out. 

You stamped out the thought of disagreeing immediately, and you nodded, feeling as if your head were on an automated hinge. Self preservation had kicked in at last and for a few minutes your head was clear from hazy starry thoughts and focused solely on your career, on the hard work you’d done to achieve your position. You couldn’t throw it all away. 

“Yes, Captain. You’re clear.”

You didn’t stutter or stumble, you looked him in the eye and hardened your jaw. A small smile seemed to cross his lips at last. It didn’t remain there for long, but he looked less like he was ready to strangle you till you were cold and blue, and that at the very least was something. 

“Good,” he said simply, drawing back from your chair and heading toward the heavy doorway. “Don’t ever disappoint me like this again.”

He disappeared from the room, trailing out like the smoke cloud that usually lingered with him, and left you without another word. You’d mistakenly thought you were alone for a second, feeling the tension drain out from the door and released a breath, planting your face into your palms. 

You weren’t alone though, Ghost was still there, perched over the chair that he dwarfed like a statue. It was normally a comical sight, but you weren’t ready to see the funny side of anything at that point. You weren’t ready to see much at all as you silently hoped the darkness would swallow you, remaining hunched into your hands.

“He was really worried when I told him,” Ghost finally said, huffing a little as he thought back, “He couldn’t believe you of all people went against an order - especially on an operation like this, when we had to keep ourselves clean. He didn’t like the thought of you on another mission with könig and getting yourself hurt chasing after the cunt either.” 

You stiffened when you heard him speak and slowly lowered your hands, chancing a look up at him. He didn’t look nearly as menacing as Price had, he looked contemplative. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling and his thick arms were wrapped around each other, he leaned back in his chair a little as he continued to think deeply. 

“I got that,” you snorted, biting your lip. “Is it time for you to give me a bollocking now too?”

He chuckled and shook his head. It was a welcome sound, rough and rich like velvet.

“I told you off already, remember? Besides, I don’t think I could top that.”

“Then what are you still doing hanging round? You making sure I don’t run to witness protection?”

Ghost shook his head again and stood up, sighing as he walked toward you. He stopped just short of your chair and raised his hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air a second. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were going to be ok,” he said, resting his big mitt on your shoulder. “And…I wanted you to know that we’re off to the pub later. The guys were asking after you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Price isn’t going, Sneaky. You’ll only be stuck with us,” he assured.

“And if I say I want to sit and feel sorry for myself for a little while?”

“I’d say that you’re not locking yourself up in your room like a little princess, sweetheart. You can either come with us or I can find something for you to do around the base. Your choice,” he said, the glint of a smile appearing in his eyes.

He wasn’t giving you much of a choice at all. 

-💀-

“Sneaky! Over here.”

You cast your eyes over the crowded pub, straining to hear over the low din of everyone's voices, and looked for the source of the callout, finally finding Soaps waving arms amongst the masses. It was a busy night, but still they’d managed to find a free booth somewhere off in the corner. You had no doubt there’d be a drink there waiting there for you too. 

Given the pub was one of the few closest to the base, it was pleasant enough to pass your time in. It was a little dim, the faint yellow lights not enough to combat the low ceilings and lack of windows, but it was cosy. The old wooden bar top and well worn blue floors felt homey in that familiar sort of way and you liked that it always smelt like hops and aged varnish. It was a proper old man pub, but nevertheless served as a tradition.

“Thought you were going to bail on us,” Ghost said, watching as you finally drew up to the table.

“And miss out on all the action?” You laughed dryly, tilting your head at the three men who sat comfortably against the sagging cushioned seats. “Never.”

“You tryin to say we’re no fun?” Soap asked, clutching his chest in mock alarm. 

“Mm, depends if that pint’s for me or not.”

“It was, but if you’re gonna be cheeky then-“

Soap made a play to grab the tall bubbling glass next to him, but you beat him to it. You were tipping your head up and gulping it down before he could register that you’d stolen it from his reach. 

“Fuckin hell, slow down,” Gaz laughed.

You lowered your glass to Gaz’s protest and watched as the golden liquid sloshed and levelled to around halfway. You hadn’t realised how much you’d needed that. With an eyebrow raise and a swipe of your tongue over your lips, you finally took your seat next to Soap. The men watched you and you watched them in some kind of cowboy style standoff. 

“I take it everyone knows about my verbal beat down then?” 

Soap and Gaz looked away, but Ghost's eyes remained trained on you. They were completely unashamed, unbothered that you knew he’d been gossiping again. 

“Is anything sacred round here,” you muttered, taking only a bitter sip of your beer this time. 

“They were on the mission too, not like it’s news to em’,” Ghost sniffed. 

“Price was chain smokin’ a belter today too, it was obvious something happened,” Soap muttered from behind his glass. “Garrick asked about it but he wouldn’t say-“

Gaz shoved at him, knocking his teeth against his glass.

“Oi!” 

“Don’t drag me into it!” Gaz groused.

“Well…regardless, Price wouldn’t tell us what was up, but Ghost said he’d spoken to you about what happened and that was why he had a face like a slapped arse.”

You snorted and shook your head. Soap was ever the eloquent storyteller.

“And he didn’t tell you anything else?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t mentioned the ultimatum.

“Almost like I’m a professional or something,” Ghost chuckled, leaving back in his corner. 

You raised your eyebrows and took a breath to ease your relief. In fairness to him, he loved to rile you up and tease you, but when it came to work he genuinely was strict about these things. Things like private meetings where you were told you couldn’t continue to pursue a certain masked Austrian. Surprisingly enough.

However, with that thought, you were sent spiralling back to the dilemma that had been torturing you all day. Thinking about König made your heart sink with heaviness. It dropped like an anchor. That kiss from the night before had been the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d be able to speak to him. You had so many things you’d wanted to talk through and clear up. Now - you had to ignore him at the cost of your job and you felt even worse about all that hadn’t been said. It made you feel like you’d used him, you worried he’d see it that way too. 

“What happened then?” Gaz asked, noticing you disappear into yourself. 

You shook yourself out of your stupor, poorly trying to cover it up.

“What?” You asked innocently. 

“At the meeting?” He prodded. “What’d Price say?”

“Almost sounds like you’re excited,” you bit out, deflecting as much as possible. “Someone’s enjoying being the sole favourite again, hmm?”

“Don’t be a dick, Sneak. Remember that time I fumbled the breach on that door in France - I almost blew us all to hell, you remember how bad that was? Price was fucking livid with me, and even then he was able to let that go eventually. And then after it happened, after he almost killed me for it, you told me to talk about it all so I wouldn’t have it trapped in my head, so just tell us. What’d he say?”

A deep shuddering breath left your lungs like a gale. Suddenly the pint in your hand was much more interesting than you’d ever found a drink. The way the liquid sloshed and foamed white, the bubbles fizzing in your ears like static, it drew your eye for a few moments until you risked a glance up to Ghost, watching his eyes roam your face. He was interested to see if you’d keep deflecting or come out with it, expression stony.

“He said I couldn’t talk to König again, and I’m assuming you won’t see me round base for much longer if I decide to go against him.” You sighed.

Soap and Gaz raised their eyebrows, but they didn’t look too shocked. However, they did risk a look at each other and something seemed to ring through their expressions. A little bright bulb of knowledge, wordless but obvious. What was it they were thinking about, what had happened?

“Spill,” you growled. 

Ghost looked equally as intrigued, sitting up from his slump in the corner. That was interesting too. Soap knew something that Ghost didn’t - for once. 

“Well me n’ Gaz were comin’ out the gym together and we were gonna go to the kitchen quickly before the showers and eh…the Captian was in there having a word with the big guy.”

“A word? What do you mean?” You asked, nails digging into the sticky wood of the table. 

“Couldn’t hear, but it was obvious they weren’t agreeing,” Gaz shrugged. “König looked like he was going to strangle Price.”

“Price just stood there as well, shoulders back, relaxed as anything. König was all over the place, shouting in German and smashing his fist on the counter before he stormed out. We left before he reached us - as you can imagine,” Soap laughed nervously, clearly still affected by the sight. 

Shouting in German? It wasn’t like him to slip into his native language when he was around the base. You’d heard him start to speak it once or twice when he got the occasional phone call from his family, but he rarely strayed from English. Only when he was mumbling to himself or surprised or annoyed about something would you hear the odd word or curse outside of speaking on the phone, but he didn’t let those out often. He must’ve been in a horrible mood to be shouting like that at the Captain. 

“Do you know what he said?” You asked curiously. 

“How the fuck should we know,” Soap chuckled. “He was doing that thing where his voice goes all loopy and high pitched. Sounded like a cartoon character, ‘eek meek deek’ somethin’ somethin’ -  he was goin’ bananas.”

“Ich mach dich kalt?” You tried, briefly recognising the sounds of the words from a story König had told once - about an older boy chasing after him with a swiss army knife.

“Yeah sounded just like that actually! What’s it mean?” Gaz said. 

“I’ll make you cold - I’ll kill you, basically,” you said, biting your lip. “Sounds like he was really fucking angry with Price.” 

-💀-

Despite not having wanted to go out that night, you’d had a nice time. After you’d stopped talking about the whole Price debacle, the conversation revolved more around usual topics and for a little while it felt like everything was ok again. 

König lingered ever present in the back of your mind, but the boys provided a good distraction and you were glad that Ghost forced you out of your cave of isolation. He’d known exactly what you needed, as little as you’d like to admit it. 

You’d ended the night on six pints and walked back to base merry, singing along to a nonsense song that Soap was singing, grinning ear to ear and holding onto him like your life depended on it. Your hand was wrapped tightly around his back and he was doing the same to you, forcing you along the street in a wild toppling sway that made your head spin. The stars looking like they were dancing and the trees swayed too and fro below them, like nature's flash mob in your blurry field of vision.

The song carried through the night like a fox call, but neither Gaz nor Ghost could stop you both from singing it. No matter how many times Ghost threatened discipline or Gaz told you there were people sleeping, nothing broke through your happy daze. Life was good, it was you and the 141; it was downing dry crappy beer in your favourite pub and telling stories about the times you all fucked up until you were all laughing along. 

All until you passed by your usual sitting spot and noticed König posted up there, watching you walk along like a sentry. Your heart stopped and you stopped walking with it, sending Soap almost clattering to the ground. He was cursing you out and stumbling to his feet, in complete ignorance of the staring contest you held with your former…whatever he was to you. 

König’s back was stiff, body upright and his eyes unblinking at you, glinting in the dark like precious diamonds - hard, sharp edged and dangerous.

Ghost and Gaz froze, they’d been walking up ahead, and turned back when they realised you and Soap were missing, and as soon as Ghost spotted König you could swear you heard him growl. He marched over, boots thudding like gun blasts, and yanked on your arm, manhandling both you and Soap away. You’d tried to look behind you, tried to silently tell König sorry with your gaze, but even that was stopped as Ghost shoved you forward and barked at you to keep moving. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got the biggest hands, LT?” Soap hiccuped, simpering up at Ghost like an idiot. 

“Big enough to strangle both of you if you don’t keep moving,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on you. 

“Mm, some people really like big hands. My ex told me once…” Soap babbled, sent mad with the twelve pints he’d gotten through. “The bigger the hands, the bigger the-“

“That’s quite enough Sergeant!” Ghost interrupted, shoving Soap forward this time. “Both of you get inside and go to your rooms before I play conkers with your heads!”

-💀-

It wasn’t until a few days later that you had another run in with König. You were about to go into the kitchen when you noticed him standing by the counter, in his full hood, making a cup of coffee. To make matters worse, Price was about to walk in at the same time. He’d caught you lingering in the limbo of the kitchen and hallway, your hand gripping the doorway like the room might start shaking. 

Price had smiled at you, finally able to look at you with something other than disappointment, and dropped his expression as soon as he noticed why you’d stopped. It wasn’t for his benefit, he must’ve realised, it was indecision about entering a room with König. He paused too, both of you stuck watching the unwilling Austrian zoo exhibition. It was only when Price walked forward and busied himself with looking in the fridge that you assumed you must be allowed in there too. 

It all felt so ridiculous. The reality of the situation finally kicked in and you had to bite your tongue just to stop yourself from laughing. You were reduced to hiding in doorways and ducking round corners all to avoid a boy that you were forbidden from talking to. Next thing you knew you’d be telling Price you’d done your homework while you figured out a way to sneak out of your window. 

You shook your head, trying not to think about it all and stared down at your shoes the minute König finally looked up at you. He grunted something too low for you to hear and moved aside, allowing you space to make your tea.

In turn, you sighed and took the handle of the kettle in your hand, testing the weight of it to see how much water was left and put it down satisfied that you could make your tea and leave. It was heavy, almost full, the slosh of water against metal was one of the few sounds that pervaded the tense atmosphere of the room. 

You could hear your heartbeat inside your ears, it thudded dully like a warning. You opened the cupboard, hoping to escape the sound as soon as you could, drown it out with a movie and maybe a workout afterward. Though you stopped in confusion when you noticed your tea wasn’t there. 

You frowned for a second until you remembered that Ghost had been fucking with you and Soap ever since that night at the pub. He took to petty revenge instead of anything official, and it was that that had you chancing a look on top of the cupboards, remembering when he’d done this before. Sure enough, you’d only just glimpsed a corner of the berry red packaging, but that was enough to tell you it had been put up out of your reach. Fuck sake.

“Fucking Ghost,” you muttered, hands on your hips like an annoyed teacher.

You refused to drink regular tea. It would be giving in to Ghost, and you were never one to do that unless under order and actively working (even then, you’d apparently shown yourself and everyone else you could rebel against him if the motivation was there). 

You raked your hand down your face and sighed, marching over to the table so that you could retrieve a chair. Though, before you could even pull one out from the table König had noticed your situation and reached up wordlessly, retrieving the box of tea and setting it on the counter. He didn’t say anything after either, but he gave you a butter soft look as if to say I still care. 

It broke your heart - even despite the things you knew about him that made you so angry - you missed him like hell. 

You wanted to hug him and tell him just how much you’d missed him. You wanted to tell him how many times something had happened over the days that made your heart wrench because you wouldn't be able to chat to him about it. You missed his dry comments and evil little laugh, you missed when he’d get overly polite because he’d get flustered talking to you, and most of all you missed having that big muscled body pressed against you in some form another; beside you, up against you, an arm around you, a thigh brushing against yours. His heat was missing, your body had never been so cold.

“You hanging around long, König?” Price asked, voice lilting dangerously.

You gulped, your grip on the chair tightening. You watched as König clenched his fists and regarded the Captain, who was glaring daggers at him. Neither man looked ready to back down, but neither made a move forward. You were glad for it, you didn’t want them to fight in front of you. You didn't like the idea of König shouting. 

“I figured I’d sit for a bit,” König finally said, leaning his heavy frame against the counter, “is that alright, Captain?”

“As long as you don’t mess with my team, you can do anything you like, König.”

“Polite of you to allow that,” König replied, distaste dripping from his tone. 

“I’m a reasonable man.”

König sniffed at that, but he didn’t come out with a rebuttal. Instead he picked up his coffee and left, not in the mood to continue bickering back and forth with Price. You doubted he could last much longer either, his body looked fit to burst by the time he’d gone, ready to tear forward and claim Price’s head for his wall. 

“Fucking KorTac,” Price muttered, slamming the fridge and walking out with a brown can. 

-💀-

A few days later, after a couple more awkward encounters filled with longing stares and unspoken words, you’d been lying on your bed when first contact came. 

You squealed like a school kid. You hadn't expected something to go flying across your floor and to the foot of your bed. At first you’d thought  it was some kind of mouse until you calmed down and realised it was just a bit of paper that had gone skittering across the wood. 

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself.

You hesitantly picked up the note and almost dropped it like a hot potato when you saw the neat looping scrawl on the page. It didn’t look like any handwriting you recognised from your team and instinctually you knew exactly who had written it. Apparently he wasn’t as strong willed as you.

Meet me at The Broken Plough at 8.30, I know the 141 don’t go there.

When you read it finally, you found yourself falling back onto your bed, sending the springs groaning underneath you. The Broken Plough was further out than your usual pub, the one that was usually too full of people to get a seat at. It was charming and had a lot more of a modern touch to it, so it was no wonder more people flocked there, and you knew for a fact that König was going to use that to his advantage. More people meant less prying eyes, it meant crowds that could hide even a massive almost seven foot tall Austrian man. 

“I’m not going,” you said out loud to yourself, perhaps as a command, perhaps as a promise. “I could lose my job.”

Nevertheless, whatever you tried to do by manifesting out loud didn’t work - you ended up worming your way out of the base just before eight o’clock. You walked through the cold night, steps crunching on the frosty grass and found yourself at The Broken Plough just before the agreed time, cursing yourself as you filtered through the crowd and toward the bar, blessedly finding a free chair. 

If you were going to face König after all those days of not speaking, then you needed a drink or two first.

The vodka shot you ordered went down hard and bitter on your throat, however it paved the way for your double rum and coke to go down nice and smoothly. If you were going to put your position at risk, then you’d be damned if you were going to do it sober. It was a necessity really, even through the cold your body had been running hot with worry, and then as you sat at the bar you could practically feel your eyes vibrating as you looked down at the dark liquid in the wide glass, swirling it around and distracting yourself from the chatter of all the people around you.  

“You came.”

You froze, registering the voice coming from your right side. It sounded soft, though you still heard it, completely undeniably coming from the man you’d been forbidden to talk to. His shadow cast itself across the bar and darkened your drink from treacle to tar. It was a shock at first, knowing you could speak to him in safety, and then it was a spark, a kick of lightning as if you’d been put under a defibrillator. You were doing something bad - but you’d don’t care.

You could talk to him again, it was safe. 

Not that you could even find the words to say when you came to the realisation. You hadn’t even looked at him yet. You glanced up from your glass and gasped when you came face to face with him, eyes blowing up like supernovas. 

He wasn’t wearing his hood, or his neck warmer, or even the usual uniform you came to expect him to be in. He was wearing roughed up jeans and a black t-shirt that could barely contain his upper arms, the fabric was straining around his muscles and looked fit to burst. Inexplicably your mouth started to fill, and you had to choke down a swallow just to greet him. 

“König!” you squeaked, still running your eyes up and down his frame. 

You were in disbelief. This was what König looked like? He might as well have appeared naked, you wouldn’t have reacted much differently. You caught sight of every detail you could, cataloguing the scars and bruises that ran along his arms like tiger stripes and leopard spots, gouges and slashes scattered carelessly, disrupting the blanket of fine blonde hair that ran across them. His chest was wide even without all the gear and bags normally strapped across it, his legs still thick without the baggy trousers he normally wore. 

When you finally looked up at his face you caught him staring back at you with an expression crossed half with amusement and half with worry. You supposed he must’ve been anxious about how you’d react, and if you were going to show up at all - and now that you’d come and not said anything beyond his name. Did he think you were going to think better of your decision? 

Certainly not now you’ve seen him looking like that, you thought absentmindedly. He’d even brushed his hair, it sat neatly on top of his head, running all in the same direction. He’d put effort in, he wanted to look good. 

“Are you alright?” he asked finally, breathless. 

“Yeah, just- I just can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now and you look…like that.”

“Like what?” he replied, frowning and looking down at himself as if he’d done something wrong, as if he’d come out with two different shoes or something. 

“Like um- like…” you bit your tongue and looked away from him, taking a sizable drink from your glass. “Good.”

“You think I look good?” he grinned.

König’s face broke out into a full smile, his soft lips and his big eyes making you dizzy. You ached to brush your hand against his jaw and pull him toward you, you wanted to kiss him again. Though you didn’t think you’d get to remain in your refuge for long if you wound up on top of him (or below, you didn’t mind) in public. 

“Yes, you look good,” you said weakly, finishing the rum and coke down to the last sticky sweet drop.

“I figured it’d help if I was less recognisable,” he shrugged, “but if it works for you, then that’s good too.”

“I think people might still have their doubts about the six foot seven Austrian man,” you laughed. 

“What if I lean?” he said conspirtorialy, lowering himself against the bar a little. 

“Oh, much less conspicuous now,” you snorted.

You both chuckled at that, and he straightened up again with a shake of his head. Clearly you’d both missed each other’s company more than you’d realised, and with that realisation you were fighting to keep back a whine and your stomach was filling with butterflies. You were really speaking with König again. He was really there, in the incredibly handsome flesh. 

“I missed you,” you sighed, propping your head against the arm you had leaning on the bar top. 

“I missed you too,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how many times I had to hold myself back from talking to you. It’s been torture.”

“Well I guess I have to thank you for that. I’m only just back in Price’s good books,” you said bitterly. 

“Price,” he grunted. “I still can’t believe it - what happened. He came up to me and told me about your meeting with him, you know, and he said if he caught me talking to you he’d get me kicked off the base for ‘unprofessional’ behaviour. As if that weren’t enough, when I told him to go ahead, he said he’d send you away to another team if you gave in.”

Your mind spun knowing that Price really was serious. If by some miracle Price chanced walking into the pub he swore that he hated, your role in the 141 was going to be dissolved in acid and shut into a barrel. 

“The man knows how to make a threat, I’ll give him that,” you remarked.

“It’s not right!”

You sighed and ran your hand along König’s arm, feeling the hair tickle at your fingertips. He was a spring waiting to release, his muscles corded like he was ready to be unleashed onto the field. They only got tighter as you continued your ministrations, his face was turning unreadable, his breaths labouring in his chest. 

How tightly wound was he? You were just stroking his arm. 

“König, I’m not a fan of the decision either, but…I understand why he asked it of us.”

“What?” he growled, standing away from your reach. 

“I know that what happened wasn’t exactly a live or die situation, but realistically it could’ve been. There could’ve been men we didn’t know about and they could’ve gotten to Soap and Gaz while I was off distracting Ghost. It could’ve been bad. It could-”

“Any situation could turn into anything, it doesn’t mean you should ban people from speaking to each other like you’re some kind of fucking teacher or something, he shouldn’t have that power.”

“He’s the Captain, he has that power for a reason, he has to do what’s best for his team,” you sighed. “Even when what’s best is really shitty.”

König looked like he could go on, but he saw the way that you were staring back at him and dropped it, looking utterly defeated. He clenched his jaw and looked around the bar, catching the faces of the people that milled around and seemed to be deep in thought. His brows had a little knot in the middle, just a little something you picked up, he was concentrating hard. 

“If you agree with his decision then why did you come and meet me?” he asked, finally talking again. 

“Because, I care about you. I couldn’t just never speak to you again - after everything y’know?”

He bit his lip.

“You still care about me even after all those things you said?”

It was your turn to go silent. You suppose you’d been expecting it to come up, but then again you were praying that it wouldn’t. Trying to explain the multitude of crossed wires and screaming signals in your mind was too difficult. You still didn’t like what went down, or the kind of work he did, but given more time to reflect, you were able to distance yourself from the situation and appreciate what he’d said that night before you'd kissed him. The person on the field and the person in front of you were separate although intertwined, they were day and night.

Inexplicably you wanted to stick around for the daytime, despite the darkness he was capable of. 

“I don’t know where I fall on it all, but… I know that I missed you after not getting to speak to you for a week. I know that I thought about that kiss we had and I felt my lips go tingly every fucking time i did, and now that I say it out loud its really cringy, but you know what? It’s what happened. I think about you all the time, whenever I watch dumb videos and see someone out on a hike somewhere or reviewing some completely over portioned food place I think of you. I think about you and your pictures you show me, and the stories you’ve told me and I drive myself insane thinking about dates we could go on and things I wanna tell you about myself and I just…I want you. I want you in spite of it all. I never want to leave the 141, unless I absolutely have to, but I don’t want this to be the last time we ever speak either.”

König listened to you intently, his face grew soft and he drifted ever closer to you with each word that you said. His hands hovered across the bar and over onto you, warming your flesh as they grasped your thighs and they drew up to your shoulders.

As soon as you’d finished speaking he was kissing you again, and you were losing yourself to him, breathing him in, Soap and citrus and spice. You wove your hands through his hair and felt the slicked back strands separating through your fingers like grass in the summer. You held him close and kissed him deep, the burn of spirits that still coated your tongue dying as he replaced them with his own sweet taste.

When you separated, you were both breathing heavily, marathon level gasps were leaving your lungs, but you didn’t think much about it. You could feel how blown out your pupils were, you were sure they looked just like his. You smirked at him, and he smiled back, his eyes crinkling. There was still a little paint left behind in the creases. 

“I don’t think that should be our last kiss,” König murmured. 

“I don’t think so either…”

“Then what do we do?” He sighed.

You paused for a moment, feeling horrified at the thought of what you were about to say. Although, even with your mind racing and your heart thundering, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“You’re free some weekends right?”

Next Part Here

[cosmicabsurdism]

🚡 your-beloved-mutual 🔄 🎱 reversed-beartrap Follow does anyone else think the jigsaw killer is lowkey kind of problematic? he was being totally uncompliant with the ada

💉 johnkramersbabygirl Follow classic bootlicker propaganda… we know FROM his manifesto that he literally only traps people who deserve it AND all his traps are survivable

🎁 normal Follow HE KILLS PEOPLE??????????????

🎱 reversed-beartrap Follow i mean theres nuance there. he very famously doesnt actually kill people

🎁 normal Follow i didn't think id get serial killer apologism on my dash today… he kills people!!!!

💉 johnkramersbabygirl Follow yeah corrupt cops and criminals and shit

🎁 normal Follow what the fuck… 😭

🎱 reversed-beartrap Follow sure the traps arent like super ethical but its better than beast games

😺 well-known-homestuck-blogger Follow WHAT DO YOU MEAN MRBEAST ISNT THE JIGSAW KILLER??????????

👶 someasshole Follow This post is a fucking trainwreck. #honestly op is kind of cooking 7078 notes ↗️💬🔄♥️

[absurdthirst]

One Night Possession {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Sex work, prostitution, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, protected sex, rough sex, thigh slapping, dirty talk, spitting, choking, death, haunting/possession

Comments: Picking you up on Halloween night for a little fun gives Dave more than he expected.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Halloween is your favorite night of the year. The time where you feel like you are most yourself. The tall boots on your feet don’t even hurt, making your legs look long and the short skirt appear even shorter. Walking down the street, the witch’s hat perched on your head, you turn to watch a car approach and quickly adjust your tits in your shirt to make them appear to almost spill out. Smirking when the vehicle starts to slow down. 

Dave pulls up next to you and puts his passenger side window down. You smirk and stride over, his dark eyes taking in your legs, dragging up to the short skirt, and his eyes linger over your cleavage when you bend into his car. You’re perfect. “Nice hat.” He smirks, clicking the button to unlock the door. You chuckle and reach for the handle, “thought I’d celebrate the holiday. I see you’re lacking an outfit.” You tut playfully and Dave turns his head to look at you once you’re in his car and the door is shut. “Not all monsters wear costumes.” He chuckles and your smirk falters a little. “You wanna come back to my hotel?” He asks, “I’ll pay for the night.”

You assess him carefully, being a pretty good judge of character in your line of work. He’s handsome and clean cut. Almost too clean, but you won’t mind that. It will be better than some of the men you entertain. “One thousand for the entire night.” You decide after a moment, sending him a small smirk. “It’s a popular night and I’d be losing money if I didn’t charge you that much.”

He nods, unable to disagree and he unlocks his car so you can get in. Once you’re in, he rolls the window up and smirks at you, “what’s your name, sweetheart?” He asks and you chuckle, “you can call me sweetheart, baby.” He nods and grins as he puts the car in drive and starts to head to the motel he’s been using during this op. It’s been a long mission to take down the man he needs to kill and he’s finally done it. He has one night here to not be suspicious and then he’s heading home. He wants to enjoy himself tonight. It is Halloween after all.

“So do I call you John?” You ask teasingly, shifting in the seat to watch him as he drives. He checks his mirrors often and you know that it’s not a cop thing, more of military training from the way he holds himself. “Fuck no.” Dave shakes his head, always hating that name. “The name you are going to scream tonight is Dave.” He tells you, making you smirk as you lean forward and rub his crotch. “That so, baby?” You coo, feeling him start to harden as you touch him.

Dave chuckles, “oh, you won’t be doubting my skills soon, little girl.” He smirks and reaches down to squeeze his cock with your hand under his. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to take me. I’m big. Thick. I’ll stretch your little cunt out.”

He is girthy. You snort and reach for his zipper. “I can take it.” You promise, reaching in to fumble with his boxers to pull his cock out while he is driving. You don’t normally engage in blow jobs until you’ve gotten paid and you’re in a room, but you’ll make an exception for him.

Dave chuckles, watching as you lower your head and your witches hat brushes the drivers side door. He smirks and caresses your neck, groaning when you take him into your mouth without a moment to spare. “Jesus. You’re cock hungry, aren’t you?” He asks roughly, trying to focus on the road.m

You hum, taking him deep, but he’s right. He will stretch you out and your cunt clenches at the thought. Your tongue laps around the head when you pull back and you push him deep again to swallow around his length.

“Shit. You’ve got a good mouth.” He hisses as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Anyone would think you do this for a living.” He jokes and presses his foot to the accelerator a little harder. “Fuck baby.” He murmurs, twisting his hands over the wheel as you start to bob on his length.

You hear him start to sound breathless and you hum again. Enjoying the way that he’s enjoying himself. He’s telling dirty without degrading you and that’s a nice start. You don’t mind dirty talk; but it always turns you off when the first words out of a John’s mouth is ‘whore’.

You take him down your throat, a choked sound escaping you, and he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck. You feel so good. Worth every goddamn penny. Shit. So enthusiastic. You wanted to do this from the moment you saw me, didn’t you?” He asks, turning into the street where the motel is located.

You don’t pull off of him to answer. The real reason for your enthusiasm would surprise him and you don’t want to give up the game this early in the night. Instead, you press down even more, your lips stretched against the rough fabric of his pants.

He pants, letting go of the wheel so he can reach down and stroke your cheek, feeling how he stretches your skin and the way your jaw is wide as possible. “Shit. Feels so fucking good. You love this. You want me to fill your throat with my cum, sweetheart? You want to taste it?” He asks and you hum around him. He groans as he pulls into the parking lot and the space outside his room. Just as he slams the gear into park his cock twitches and he starts to cum down your throat.

You gasp and start to swallow. You had anticipated him lasting a little longer and you wonder when the last time he had a blowjob was. Swallowing down as much as you can until you have to pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and looking up at his wrecked expression.

He knows he should’ve lasted longer but Carol has been cold towards him and hasn’t sucked his cock in a while. He’s been pent up and that’s why he decided to seek a release tonight. Carol is taking the girls trick or treating so there’s plenty of time for him to enjoy himself before she calls him to say a cool goodnight. “Goddamn.” He mutters, reaching to cut the engine.

“I’m worth every penny.” You promise, winking at him before you look up at the motel he brought you to. It’s clean, decent, although it’s definitely not the Ritz. He is probably some mid-level salesman or management here in town for a few days and wanted some fun. Doesn’t matter to you. A girl’s gotta eat. “Take me to your room.”

He nods, opening his car door after tucking himself away and he doesn’t bother to open yours. He grabs the key and unlocks his room and the car beeps as it locks when you saunter over to him, smirking as you walk into the room past him and he inhales your perfume.

“Cozy.” You coo, looking around the neat room. This place might be lower budget, but they are clean. Smirking when you point to the bed, you lift a brow at him. “Have you touched yourself here, thinking about how you need to get laid?” You ask playfully, walking over and sitting down on the end and leaning back, displaying your body for him to look at.

He drags his eyes along your body, watching you as you kick your heels off, and he smirks, eying the witches hat. “Maybe. Was thinking about a nice tight pussy to push my cock into.” He hums and reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt. “Money first or after?” He asks once his shirt is open.

“Show me the money.” You want to make sure he’s good for it first. But you can collect after you're done. You’ve actually never had anyone stiff you on a payment. Especially not someone who wanted an entire night.

He nods, reaching for his envelope of cash that he uses for ops. He never uses his card. He’s not a moron. He makes a show of counting the bills for you before he sets it down on the desk in the room. “One thousand.” He declares and you nod, “thanks, baby.” He smirks and his dark eyes drag over your body once more. “Now, I want to watch you strip. But keep the hat on.” He decides, wanting to be festive.

“Whatever you say, Dave.” You make a show of standing up and prop one heeled boot on the bed to start unzipping it. It will feel good to have the heels off for a little bit and you enjoy the way his dark eyes drink you in.

He watches you, his eyes darkening and he is happy to eye up your legs as you expose more of your body to his hungry eyes. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want a show.” He demands, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants.

It’s not an unheard of request, a lot of men like to watch. Instead of leering, his eyes are dark with want. He’s not even hard yet since he had just cum but you have a feeling he’s the going to fuck you multiple times tonight.

He watches you, eagerly, hungrily, as you start to strip down. It’s methodical. Like you’ve done it a thousand times before but it’s an intoxicatingly sexy sight that has him groaning softly, squeezing his soft cock once more through his pants as he kicks off his shoes.

When you get down to your thong and bra, you turn around and bend down, giving him a nice view of your ass as you peel them down. Then unclipping your bra and flinging it off so all you are wearing is the witch’s hat before you reveal your tits to him.

Dave chuckles at your display and smirks, reaching for you once you’re naked so he can drag you into his chest. “You have any rules on kissing?” He asks and you snort, “this isn’t Pretty Woman. Kiss me.” You demand and cup the back of his neck to drag him towards you just as he surges forward to press his lips to yours.

He’s a good kisser. A little rough, demanding, but you don’t mind. This is obviously a man who likes to be in control and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass harshly. Tongue tangling with yours until he bites your bottom lip.

His hands squeeze your flesh and he starts to harden against your hip. It’s been too long since he was this attracted to a woman. Carol hasn’t touched him for a while and he’s pent up. He wants to touch and be touched.

Your hands slide over his shoulders and you tangle your fingers into his short hair as you start to grind down on him. Rolling your hips and feeling him harden underneath you. Deepening the kiss even more as you pull him closer.

He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your ass, and his tongue slides against yours while his hands trail up your figure. He cups your tits, squeezing them, and he loves the way you moan when he pinches your nipples.

This man has a good set of hands on him. You moan for him again, it’s not practiced or put on, he’s drawing it out of you. “Dave.” You pull away from his lips and kiss down his throat. “What do you want to do to me?”

“I want you to sit there.” He says and his hand slides down your stomach until he’s cupping your cunt. He groans when he finds you’re wet. “You get wet for everyone?” He asks as he starts to stroke your clit with his fingers.

“No.” You admit breathlessly, moaning softly when he presses his fingers with the perfect amount of pressure. “Sucking your cock helped, but you are hot.”

Dave chuckles, continuing to work his fingers along your slit until he’s pushing two thick digits into you with a groan at how wet you are. “Fuck sweetheart. You’re so tight. Gonna feel so good around my cock.”

“Practice my kegals.” You tease and close your eyes when he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Your hands feel so good on me.”

He hums, shifting his wrist so he can press your thumb against your clit. “Gotta stretch you out.” He smirks and leans in to kiss along your jaw, “want to feel you cum so you’re nice and wet for me.”

It’s rare that a client cares about your pleasure so you roll your hips against his hand. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, closing your eyes and riding his fingers.

He watches you, loving the way your eyelashes flutter as you rock down onto his fingers. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. So goddamn pretty like this. Keep going. Want you to soak my fingers.” His voice is rough and demanding as he drinks in the sight of you.

You rarely cum when you are with someone, so you appreciate his effort. It’s not that you can’t, they are just focused on the pleasure they pay you for and not your. Dave apparently gets enjoyment from others cumming. “I will.” You promise, grinding down even more.

He hums, watching you as you ride his digits and his cock twitches, hardening with each moan you let escape from your lips. “Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmurs, “take what you want. Then I promise I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t even remember it’s Halloween.”

You chuckle. “That’s a big promise.” You moan breathlessly. “I’m only allowed out to play on Halloween.” You tease, flicking your witch’s hat. You groan again and clench down around his fingers when he presses them deeper. “Fuck.”

“Come on baby. Soak my fingers.” He growls out his demand as he strokes your walls, curling his digits inside you and groaning at the way your thighs shake against his hand. “That’s it. Do it.” He demands, leaning in to nip your jaw.

You close your eyes and fall over the edge. Pleasure splintering through your body as you shake on his lap. Pouring over his fingers since you always have a lot of juices when you cum.

Dave groans at the way you soak his digits, working you through it and he withdraws his fingers. “Good girl. Now, hands and knees. I’m gonna fuck you.” He smirks as he admires the slick on his fingers and he stands up, using his sticky fingers to undo his pants.

“Yes sir.” You coo cheekily, your legs shaky as you shift onto your knees and turn to present your cunt to him. “You want to fuck me, Dave? Make me scream your name?” You ask, looking over your shoulder as you he pushes down his pants and underwear.

He reaches for his pants to grab his wallet, pulling out the condoms he keeps in there and he tosses two onto the bed while he opens the third, rolling it onto his hard cock before he starts to pump himself. His dark eyes admire your fluttering pussy as you present yourself to him. “Look at you. Fucking gagging for it. You haven’t been properly fucked for a while, have you? Been too used to piss ant losers who pump three times and cum.”

“Yessssss.” You admit, wiggling your hips at him and smirking at the cocky look on his face. He’s fucking sexy and he acts like he actually knows how to fuck. It will be a treat for Halloween if he does. “Need someone to wreck me. Make me sore.”

He kneels on the bed behind you, caressing your ass with his free hand as he positions his cock at your entrance, sliding through your folds until he pushes into you in one thrust. Your gasp makes him chuckle and he grabs your ass, squeezing it.

He feels so good inside you. His cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out enough that there is a pinch of pain. “Fuck.” Your head drops between your shoulder blades and you push your stomach down to arch your back. “Feels good, baby.”

“Shit. Such a tight little pussy.” Dave murmurs, admiring the way you feel around his cock. His hand smacks your ass and he doesn’t give you another moment to adjust as he starts to rock into you.

“Dave.” You moan, enjoying the way that he immediately starts to fuck you. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t work up to a rhythm. He just pulls his hips back and starts to hammer into you. Your fingers clench around the sheets and you feel your body being pushed forward when he drives back into you.

He chuckles at your moan and smacks your ass cheek, working himself into your tight cunt over and over. His jaw is clenched and he’s pent up. The adrenaline of his completed op surges through him and he wants to lose the energy in your body.

“Give me more.” You beg. “I can take it.” You can tell that he is holding back, not fully unleashed and you want to see what he can do with your body.

He growls, rocking into you a little harder, his hips slamming into your ass and he loves the moan that escapes your lips. You want more, you want him to lose control and he is almost there. “Fuck. You’re so cock hungry, aren’t you?” He groans, bending over your body to palm your breast.

“Yes!” You always agree with your client but you do want him to wreck you. You feel like he might be the only one who could. You push your hips back and moan his name again.

He hisses, pinching your nipple and he slaps your tit, loving the way it shakes. “You’re so pliable. You’ll take whatever I give you.” He chuckles and turns his head to kiss your shoulder.

The sharp sting of the pinch and slap is directly opposite of the kiss. A paradox or perhaps more of a layer of the multi-faceted man who is currently in charge of your body.

His mind blurs to the chaos he lives in and he focuses on you. He pushes deep into your pussy over and over, loving the way you grind back against him while he presses another kiss to your shoulder.

You rock back as he fucks you, pushing him deeper. “God. Dave.” You pant. “It’s so good. Fuck, you are good. Your cock is so deep.”

He shifts to sit up, his hands finding your hips to keep you still as he starts to fuck you harder. He wants to wreck you. He wants you to be breathless and your heart pounding at the way he fucks you. The witches hat is crooked and it makes him chuckle as his hips slap against yours.

A low moan rolls out of you. Pushed out from the slapping of his hips against your ass and the piercing of his cock deep into your walls. It feels like he’s trying to bury his cock in your throat again and you love it.

Dave rocks into you, his jaw clenched as he focuses on fucking you hard and fast. He grunts through his nose and his fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you back onto him as he thrusts hard.

You whine and whimper, letting your sounds come out naturally and without any of the exaggerations that you might have used with others. You have a feeling he wouldn’t like that. Not that you have to fake with the harsh pace he’s plowing into you at.

Your whines make his cock twitch and he shifts his knees to adjust, chuckling when you cry out. “There it fucking is.” He smirks, knowing that he has no obligation to make a whore cum but he wants to hear your screams. He gets off on them.

Every time he punches deep from this new angle. He cock shreds up inside you and makes you continuously cry out. It feels incredible and every time you squeal, Dave growls and just seems to go that much harder.

Dave hisses when you clench around him and he’s desperate to hear you cum. He can be selfish, especially when he’s paying for sex, but for some reason, he wants to feel you clamp down on his cock. He wants to hear your scream of pleasure. He hears so many screams of fear, he wants to hear something sensual for a change.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that desperate clenching in your stomach. Pushing you closer to cumming with every swing of his hips.

Dave can sense you’re close. The way your whines become incoherent and the moans that resembled his name have become rambles. Your walls flutter around his cock and he hisses when finally you clamp down on him and squeal, collapsing onto the bed. He follows you, working you through it until your whines become sensitive and he pulls out. “Roll over.” He commands, squeezing his cock.

Panting, you puff out a groan as you roll over onto your back. Facing Dave as he squeezes and strokes his cock. He looks darker, his face pinched in desire and his eyes are almost black as night. It makes your breath catch at how perfect he is and you spread your legs enticingly. “That all you got?” You tease.

He chuckles, “you ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart.” He promises as he shuffles closer so he can notch his cock at your entrance again before he pushes into you with a groan. “Fuck. You feel so good.” He hisses, fingers digging into your thighs and he pushes them back so he can sink deeper into you.

You lift your legs, feeling him start to push them back towards your chest. Obviously wanting to fold you over and fuck you into oblivion again. You whine at the angle, his cock pushing the breath out of you the next time he snaps his hips forward.

Your gasp makes him chuckle and he rocks into you, his hips pressing against your ass as you take what he gives you without a word of complaint. “That’s it. Shit. Look at you. Wrecked and I haven’t even gotten started.” He smirks, slapping your thigh.

You squeal, the slap hard enough that you feel the edges of a welt start to form. Normally you don’t allow a client to mark your body, but you are his for the night and him making you cum lets you give him a little more leeway.

“That’s it, baby. Take it.” He demands, slapping your thigh again and he lets go to push your body in half, his hand gripping your chin so he can surge forward to press his lips to yours, his tongue possessively sliding into your mouth.

You cry out, the sound muffled by his tongue and you feel him pulse inside you. Turned on by your sound so you give him more. Breathing them into his mouth as he completely possesses you.

His fingers dig into your jaw, keeping your mouth open, and he smirks as he pulls back. He pauses for a second as he spits into your mouth, “swallow.” He demands, dark eyes watching you as he fucks into you.

It’s filthy and you clench down around him as you swallow down his spit. Right now he is completely in control and dominating every aspect of your entire being. “Fuck.” You whine. “I’m g-gonna cum.”

He smirks, “do it. Wanna feel you again. Cum for me.” He demands, rocking into you a little harder. “I want to watch you.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours before he pulls back to look at you, “cum for me, sweetheart.”

Him giving you permission is all you need. A scream rips out of your throat as he pounds into you. Your juices coating his cock and soaking him while you shake and thrash under this man.

He loves feeling you cum and seeing it. It’s intoxicating and he can’t help but twitch inside you. “That’s it. Shit. So fucking tight.” He hisses, unable to hold back anymore and he thrusts a half dozen more times, grunting until he groans, cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with his seed.

Tilting your head back, you close your eyes. Panting as you try to catch your breath while your cunt still flutters around his cock. “Fu-“ you catch your word when his hand slides up to your throat and he presses his lips to yours.

His other hand comes up to your neck, squeezing and you gasp into his mouth. “Dave.” Your choked cry of his name makes him chuckle and he leans back to look at you. “Sshhh. Don’t worry, baby. It’s all gonna be okay. Just look at me. I wanna see the life fade from your eyes.” He coos, squeezing harder.

Your eyes blow wide and you struggle against him, but he has you pinned down. His cock buried inside your body as he slowly chokes the life out of you. The last thing you see before your vision blurs and goes black is Dave’s eyes watching you.

He groans, unable to stop himself as he cums again, his cock softening as he twitches inside you while his hands squeeze your neck until you slacken beneath him. You’re dead. Your eyes glaze over and he chuckles, leaning in to kid you softly. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek. You’ve been perfect. Exactly what he needed. He grips the base of his cock as he pulls out of you, wrapping up the condom to toss it in the trash can. He needs to deal with your body but for now, he’s going to shower and clean the room.

**** 

Slipping into bed next to Carol the next morning, Dave smirks to himself when she rolls over and gives him a sleepy-eyed smile. “Hey, honey.” She murmurs before she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.

He pulls her close, breathing her in, and he knows the evilness that haunts him has been satiated with his latest kill. You are buried in the woods, no marker, and no one will miss you. The thousand dollars is back in his wallet and he can make love to his wife without wanting to choke her, hurt her. His demons are at bay. He sleeps for a bit until he’s ready to get up. When he wakes up, he goes to the bathroom for a pee and to get ready. He grabs his toothbrush and looks in the bathroom mirror when he starts to brush until he chokes on the toothpaste. He murmurs your name, spinning his head to see where you are, and turns back to the mirror.

Your eyes are black, completely black with none of the white showing, lips curved into a wicked smile. Looking possessed by a demon. “Don’t worry baby.” You coo, leaning in to hover over the edge of his shoulder. “I’ll be with you forever.” You promise.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. Closing his eyes, he slaps his cheek as if he’s still asleep, but when he opens his eyes, you’re still in the mirror. “What the fuck?” He murmurs, gripping the edge of the sink. “I’ll be here forever.” You promise, black eyes burning into his and Dave swallows harshly when you say “I’ll be watching you.” Dave drops his toothbrush and stumbles from the bathroom, confused and scared of the image in the mirror. He thinks he’s dreaming but you’re right. Every time he looks in the mirror…you’re there.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

[spooky-pomegranate]

Price's Scars

Price’s breath was steady and warm on your neck. The bristles of his beard moved ever so slightly up and down against your skin with each inhale and exhale.

You turned and faced him. Watching him sleep he looked peaceful, his strong jawline relaxed, and his lips slightly parted. You reached out and traced your fingers along his stubble, feeling the soft salt and pepper bristles beneath your fingertips.

He looked different.

He felt different.

Things had changed.

Each scar on Price’s body had been like a page from his private diary and earlier he had finally let you in. He had let you read his story. He had spent hours laying himself bare, letting you flip through his pages, and inviting you to study his text. And you had reveled in it. You had soaked in each detail like he was a sacred script, that the gods had blessed you with from on high. And you had memorized every line and stroke of ink like a preacher, devoted to his scripture.

He was still Price, a man whose heart was harder to get to know than most, but now you had a better understanding of him. He had dealt with more pain than you had ever imagined, and that knowledge made you handle him differently. You touched him more delicately and looked at him with a deeper understanding.

He was strong. Physically you had always known that, but now you knew he was a fighter down to his core. And he had promised to fight for you.

Your finger trailed over a small silver scar on Price’s jaw. Training accident when he was 18. Your hand moved to his chest. A bullet wound just below his shoulder. Kastovia, 2014 op gone sideways. You touched a tiny mark behind his ear. This one made you smile. A game of cops and robbers with the boys in his neighborhood. He��d been nicked with a plastic baton a little too hard. He was 8.

As you brushed his hair away from the scar there, you imagined a tiny John Price riding around his childhood neighborhood somewhere in England, doling out prop justice with a bicycle and a vivid imagination. You bet he was cute then. Shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He probably gave his parents hell too with the trouble he got into. If he never sat still now, he must have been on another level then.

You couldn’t help but smile.

God, you loved this man. This scarred but perfect man.

[phantom-dc]

Jason is 9 years old.

Today was his favorite day of the year. Even better than his birthday. He managed to find a bedsheet that was white and (sort of) clean, and had painted 2 black circles on it. He wasn’t going to cut holes in a perfectly good bedsheet. Who knows when he’d find another one? In Crime Alley lucky finds like these were rare. He got up, put the sheet in his backpack and left for Burnley. It was close, and yet the place wasn’t as crime infested as its surroundings. The rich guys there had the cops in their pockets, so they patrolled extra there. But that just made it perfect for today.

Halloween.

The day he could get candy for free.

When Jason got to Burnley, he already saw several other kids going around with their parents. He didn’t want to admit it, but it stung. He wanted to go with his mom too, but Catherine had been too out of it, and he didn’t even know where his dad was. Prison, most likely. It didn’t matter. He put on his sheet. Dressed as a ghost he’d try to get as much candy as he could.

Suddenly he heard someone shout: SPOOK! The next thing he knew he was covered in a weird, green glowing goop. 2 people in weird suits pointed weapons on him. Jason tried to run, but the goop was slippery and he fell. Suddenly a boy stood in front of him. The boy scolded his parents, explaining that Jason wasn’t a ghost but a boy in a costume. Why did he have to explain that? It was Halloween! Of course he was wearing a costume! Ghosts don’t even exist! Jason took of the sheet. He was about to cry, it was ruined! How was he supposed to enjoy today at all? No one would give him anything without a costume! While a girl with red hair scolded the 2 adults that had attacked him, the boy held out his hand to help Jason up. He apologized for his parents. They are weird. Jason was about to go home, when the boy had an idea. His parents brought hazmat suits for him and Jazzy. If they wear that they can pretend to be ghostbusters together! They’ll get more candy if they wear a co-op costume. Jason thinks about it, and agrees. He has nothing to lose and everything to gain.

A few minutes later they are both dressed up, wearing weird suits and weirder weapons strapped to their belts. As they go around collecting candy Jason asks what’s up with his parents. He gets Halloween is awesome, but no one should be so into it that they’d try to hurt a kid. The boy sheepishly rubs his neck. His parents aren’t dressed up. They are really ghostbusters. He doesn’t like it. The other kids at school think it’s weird and bully him for it. This kid Dash locked him up in the school’s janitor closet once. It took 3 hours before someone found him. Jason advices him to punch the guy in the nose. The boy doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Jason advices then to finish it off with a kick in the groin.

After they have raided the district, Jason and the boy return to the van. Jazzy tells her brother to get in before their parents forget him and leave. He says goodbye to Jason and that he had great fun! Jason can keep the suit, maybe he can use it again next year? As the van drives off, Jason notices that the kid left his bag behind. Jason feels bad for him, but now he has twice as much candy! He promises to enjoy it twice as much, and takes it home. In the van Jazzy asks where Danny’s candy went. Danny says he gave it to his friend. He seemed hungry, and with dad driving he’d only throw it back up anyway.

Next - AO3

[artsy-hobbitses]

Is there a pet squad? It seems like every time I see something new about a character, it that they end up with a pet. So like the pet avengers or dc superpers version in ties that bind au a possible thing? Also who on both sides has a pet?

I DID NOT INTEND MOST OF THEM but animals just. Happen to some of these folks XDXD

Lesse...

AUTOBOTS:

Esmeralda the cat (Prowl and Jazz) - Jazz brought her back during one of his missions, Prowl basically became the dad who's like "I don't want pet" and a month later has her riding on his shoulders.

Dakshi the ovcharka (Kup) - Big dumb, big fun and big monstrous when you get him in the mood. Usually found roughousing with the Wreckers.

Molly the cattle dog (Ironhide) - Little dynamo of a dog, absolutely bouncing off the walls since she has no cattle to HERD NOW so she herds people instead.

Dunedan the Irish Setter (Mirage) - An old gentleman like his owner and Mirage's sightdog during hunts.

Avalon's Renaissance the horse (Mirage) - A riding horse who has seen better days and now enjoys leisurely canters with her master through the woods of Alpha Trion's estate.

Bigwig the rabbit (Bumblebee) - Is a gift to Bee from Optimus! Is also a right bastard to anyone not Bee, Bee's friends or OP.

An assortment of medical leeches (Ratchet) Many are named, mostly off famous vampires, and they live in a tempest prognosticator he had specially made for them.

A flock of pigeons (Optimus Prime) All are named and wear tags. OP doesn't have a favorite, and refers to them as his Mantiq Altair.

A murder of crows (Drift) They are not individually named, since Drift doesn't really consider them pets in a traditional sense, he simply feeds them and they see him as a human friend and bring him little gifts as such. However, he does refer to them affectionately as "The Crass Ones", because Sludge once asked him what these birds are called (he has some speech issues from the experimentation done on him and is working on remembering names of things around him) and while Drift told Sludge they were crows, he also told Sludge they were known as 'Karasu' in his language. Sludge misconstrued it as 'crass', became distressed and gently asked them to be kind to the nice man feeding them, and Drift found that so sweet/funny that the name stuck.

Tabiba the dove (First Aid) - A gift for First Aid from her uncle, Hotspot, when she graduated medical school.

Serpico the German Shepherd (Nightbeat) - Was the K9 Nightbeat worked most often with while he was a cop, and when he left to go underground/work from the shadows, he 'liberated' Serpico and Serpico chose to go with him rather than stay at the precinct. Is Nightbeat's scenthound and 'bodyguard' during stakeouts.

Lelaps and Boudicca the Maned-subtype Turbofoxes (Alpha Trion) - These were former sentry hounds of the Quintessons and were freed/reprogrammed by the Primes to help them instead.

DECEPTICONS

Old Fella the Pit Bull (Barricade) - Was rescued from an illegal fighting pit, and has long passed his best days. Was intended to be rehomed, but Barricade grew too attached to him, and with Megatron's blessings, decided to keep him instead.

Najmina the falcon (Skywarp) - Skywarp's pride and joy, and his scout during recon missions.

Buster the Jack Russell (Thundercracker) Your standard Jack Russell Terrorist so named because she would bust everyone's balls (her original name was 'Ballbuster') at Marissa Fairborne's base. With Marissa's encouragement, was adopted by Thundercracker who was feeling lost after leaving the Decepticons and needed an 'anchor'/something to care for while he figured out a new purpose in life.

Mollica the British Shorthair cat (Nickel) - One of those "there is a cat in my house, I do not own a cat" situations. This thing just sauntered into the DJD's quarters, almost slapped Tarn's mask off when he grabbed her and Nickel immediately fell in love and insisted on keeping her if only for her audacity. Her being around Tarn has not endeared him to her one bit

Graymalkin the Sphynx cat (Starscream) - Post war, adopted by Starscream as a companion.

[gentlefangz]

ithink this is what tumblr would be like in the dogman universe: a simulator

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

can those villain asshats get control of those goddamn monsters i have lost literally every single fucking thing thanks to those brainless pieces of shits last week a fucking T-REX SKELETON destroyed my fucking HOUSE and everything around it

🪻 inmylane-1999

how are you able to say those words

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

what words?

🪻 inmylane-1999 the a word, f word, and s word

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

oh i see you're one of the Collardale inhabitants. screw the fuck off your town is a CURSE

🪻 inmylane-1999

what did i do? :(

10 notes

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

hnstly i dont get y Daryl hangs arnd that pig guy hes rlly mean & bad

🐊 piethrowingboss

didnt u help us go after him when he ditched us after the mini jail broke 2 bits?

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

yeh butt hes still rlly mean & i was a lil moar concerned 4 Daryl

🐊 piethrowingboss

ohhhh kk

5 notes

🐕 zupabuddiezthezenutz

zomg did u guyz watch that new mini-documentary w/ Petey The Cat n Zarah Hatoff??? that waz tragickk..

#holy shart i have so much moar respect 4 him now..

6 notes

🔄 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep reblogged

🌆 icareforyou follow

still dont know why people are supporting Petey Duckhat just because of that documentary, didn't he terrorize the city for more than a month or two?? ntm he quite literally MUTILATED Officer Knight and Greg The Dog's bodies bad enough with that bomb to where they had to become that sick and horrible abomination i have to stomach through seeing on the news every week.

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

i know right?? like hes genuinely a horrible cat but people are supporting him for no other reason other than "oh hes a victim!!" like shut the fuck up and grow up.

comicpanel-deactivated-98325749857

op i wouldn't say DogMan is sick and horrible, he seems to be in great condition despite such an accident and hard surgery to conduct, and looks perfectly happy. while i don't support Petey Duckhat either, you took it a step further and suggested that DogMan is currently in conditions horrible enough to render him an "abomination".

🌆 icareforyou follow

dont you post tips for fucking evil monsters on your blog.

#LMAOOO dude was SLAUGHTERED so hard they deactivated #redogs

1,509 notes

🌭 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep

walking on the street with a small can of living spray in my pocket and the nearest cop explodes into blood guts and viscera

10 notes

🦷 bigmonsterinyourheart

okay i get that Dr. Scum is a real and kinda sucky person and all that but his labcoat kinda fucks!!

0 notes

✨ lookatthestars

Hot take or whatever but I don't think we should trust a guy who gets really distracted by squirrels and balls and a kitten who could easily get hurt to protect our city. Lightning Dude IS one of the better options as they ARE a highly durable and strong robot, but The Bark Knight and Cat Kid maybe aren't our best bets, they could get hurt easily and aren't exactly professionals.

Don't get me started on the Friendly Friends, I don't think we can trust two guys who JUST left the same exact trio that was responsible for that marshmallow factory's destruction (which left many injured, some DEAD), what if they're pretending? Also the bugs could easily get killed, they're small and fragile, the most work they can do without a high risk of getting smashed is spying on villains.

Commander Cupcake's a different story, as I'm pretty sure that guy only helped out, like, 3 times.

#anti-supa buddies #anti-friendly friends #twinkle twinkle little star

15 notes

🪁 lalalalala89

dude imagine if we were in a book rn and ppl were posting on tumblr abt us

0 notes

🎠 supastarr

remember, calico trans toms are perfectly valid! even cis toms can be calicos, and fur pattern doesn't determine exact gender, especially with fur dying technology nowadays! :)

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[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Observation Funny tags: One Piece Marines

Due to character limits, the funny tags post has had to be broken up into multiple parts

This post contains the tags for all the Marines plus Cipher Pol. I ran into a little issue with character limits again because someone, and they know who they are, got carried away with their love of smoker. At least they're entertaining, plus I don't mind. They're one of my favorite followers because of their tags

Admirals

Akainu: "The world's next top authoritarian," magma Daddy, "He makes donuts and I still love him" “akainu looks like a toxic yaoi seme in a yakuza story (this is hot) (100% would let him do to me what toxic yaoi semes do to poor unfortunate ukes)” “akainu is too wide and stiff. He'd probably loosen up if I gave him a blowjob but I wouldn't because he's ugly and a bad person” “I like scars.” “proof that a beard can change men” “yo sakazuki is hot PERIODT. However post-ts has a little goatee and that's fucking sexy as shit love that love you daddy sakazaddy yum” “My baby daddy looks hot in both versions though😍😍😍” “pre timeskip because he's only a cop then and not the head of all cops” “are people voting like literally hotter? cos that burgundy outfit has only been worn better by Doflamingo and the sakazuki camellia (like that’s its actual cutivar-synonymous with Sakazukiba apparently) like I’m guessing it’s the fire joke cos I love pink and red together and it’s one of the few redeeming features of akainu well he’s still got the camellia in the second but it’s striking in the first against the red” “reblogging bc this is the funniest picture of akainu ive ever seen bless u op reminds me of the ‘mom says it’s my turn on the xbox’ memes”

Fujitora: "fujitora yes plz that like calm collected way he fights makes me KNOW hed take care of his partner real good", "have you seen how he slurps his noodles? I just know he could eat me out in ways I could never imagine"

Kizaru: “We are losing but we are free Borsalino” “Borsi Baby” “

Sengoku: “Sengoku is no villain” “Don't think he gets enough love especially since he's probably packing”

Ryokugyu: "I'm a sucker for plant/earth based powers, can't help it. Plus he's got the lovely shirt allergy. And he is genuinely better looking than Volcano Gru.” “

Shockingly, no Kuzan yet if anyone would like to change that

Vice admirals

Doll: “not to be a marinefucker but if doll doesn't win i call conspiracy” “VOTE VICE ADMIRAL DOLL she'll punch you so hard your grandparents will feel it but thats kinda hot so” “doll is stupidly hot hot take shes hotter than boa”

Garp: “garp all the way his scottish accent does it for me and the salt and pepper look” “Objectively? Garp. However he loses points for being a pig” “uh oh i have gender envy for garp but” “I just have to clarify, because I went through the tags. That is not a Scottish accent you're hearing from Garp, it's Welsh. Vincent Regan is Welsh, which is still a Celt but completely different from a Scottish. For starters, you can understand him and that is the biggest hint that it's not Scottish you will ever get.” “monkey d garp should show me what the d in his name stands for” “garp lost this because y'all are FUCKING COWARDS don't worry gramps i got ya

Smoker: "Smokedaddy", "Smokestack. 'Ole Smokey. Smokin' Hot Smoker", "smokers allergy to keeping his Tits covered compels me", "i do love smoked sausage i'm sorry i'll see myself out", "smoker he's just so beefy like fuckkk and he's like almost 40 i just wanna be smokers lil housewife", "smoker is a beautiful lesbian to me", "smoked sausage I just *know* he's got more to work with than a cocktail weenie", "SMOKEYBEAR PAPA SMOKE MY KING i would smoke him like a chimney if you're pickin up what I'm putting down wink wink nudge nudge he really would kill my lungs but it'd be a fun time", "SMOKER PAPUCHO RICO I NEED HIM", "smoker is solid (despite being made of smoke)", "smoker. smo-yan. ultimate "guy who is allergic to wearing shirts" and honestly? he's so right for that. he needs to show off his tits! in a one piece man boob ranking he's coming number 2 (after crocodile) i said this in dms earlier today but it needs to be released to the world "fat d*ck fat tits fat ass he has it all" smoker is PACKINNNNN in every way he's genuinely so attractive, even just considering him physically and look at his sexy facial scar also (beck also has one. very good) and his slicked back short hair.....not to mention the things that are very endearing about him personality wise - he does masculinity like NOBODY ELSE. genuinely NO ONE does it like him like. he's gruff but he has a very strong personal moral code and he really *does* care..... the man's a tsundere and he's never been cruel to those undeserving like in his introduction - kids bumps into him, spills ice cream on his pants YOU KNOW WHAT SMOKER SAYS? YK WHAT HE SAYS? "my pants ate your ice cream." KILL ME NOWWWWWW HES SO FUCKING HOT IM EATING MY OWN HANDS and then he GIVES THE KID MONEY TO BUY MORE ICE CREAM. jesus christ smoker big d*ick big tits big heart i fucking love him good god", "something something vague moaning sounds I would call him smokey just to provoke him",

Smoker continued: “daddy smoker you may not win any fights in op but you CAN win this poll <3” “Smoker there's zero competition sorry. i think i got pregnant just watching him in punk hazard.”  “Smoker? I hardly know 'er-” “gotta add to that wonderful smokersweep 👀✌️✨” “smoker for the voice and drive” “while i am usually a horny demented sex freak, smoker is cool because of his moral compass, the way he treats regular civilians, and the rack of cigs he keeps on him 24/7” “Why is Smoker attractive? Excuse me, he is 6'10 and exudes Daddy Dom energy, and due to his logia fruit, he comes with his own unique form of bondage. Smoke cuffs, anyone? I want to be his naughty little Marine or pirate, whatever he's into. I also think there could be some other kinky implications of his devil fruit, but I won't get into it here. I'm already gladly going to horny jail for this” “SINCE WHEN WAS SMOKER 6'10???” “That intro should be enough to persuade anyone. That Smoker is the bestest boy. Then post time skip he became the beefiest boy” "Listen. Smoker's a big muscular man who's canonically good with kids. He also refuses to NOT walk around bare chested” “can he stub those cigars out on me. please. please. plea- [comically large piano falls on me, cutting off my speech]” “a part two to my smoker defense, now that ive been given permission to talk about his dick: the man is the definition of a service dom. he could be mean, sweet, whatever you want. whatever you *need*. as others have mentioned, he's tall as fuck. he's built like a brick shithouse. he could manhandle you, fuck you against a wall, hold you up in front of a mirror, countless other positions... and the smoke. position awkwardness is no longer a thing. your partner can't reach something? not anymore ! smoke hand ! and, of course, the gags, the handcuffs, the blindfolds.... all made of smoke.... is it not intimate, to have restraints be made of your partners own powers? i'm not even into daddy kink but if he asked me to call him that? i'm down. would do anything for this man / would let this man do anything to me. also just look at him and tell me his dick's not as thick as a beer ca- [i am pushed into oncoming traffic]” “come on. you can't look me dead in the eye and tell me you don't think smoker would make a great father. Due to this, i would gladly let him rail me into a wall while im gagged with his smoke until im stuffed fuller than luffy during his fight with croco in alabasta.” “wdym I'm older than Smoker ??!!” “He's a gruff tough guy who if a girl walks into him and drops her ice cream, he'll buy her extra scoops.” “hes buff hes gruff he wont take no guff hes got the right stuff” “I just yelled so loud bc smoker? a baddie? I mean I guess but 😭😭😭” “if smoker is a villain then by god im fucking the evil hes not a villain???? hes my babygirl. who im going to get pregnant or the other way around im not picky” (Note: 70% or more of the smoker section was made up of tags by one person. That person was @badtzbot. If you want to thank them)

Tsuru: “tsuru is a queen” “im gonna be so honest with you. six-foot-eight gilf appreciation hours” “tsurus so hot gilf of all time”

Other Marines

Helmeppo: “y'all are sleeping on helmeppo” “everyone forgot about a certain sword scene mhmm you fools”

Hina: “it's hina 100% hello? have you heard her voice?? also she smokes (not hot to me irl. very hot in fiction)”

Koby: “Koby tf?? Hr got them sad wide eyes n I love that for him He's like a pink baby cat I wanna squeeze n hug him”

Tashigi: “i love tashigi i will forever love tashigi FUCK YOU GUYS she's my BABYGIRL !!!! how can you not fall for that autism sword rizz that heart of gold and strong moral compass she shares with smoker her cute little face….. she could probably benchpress me man shes probably super strong i want to take her out on a date and compliment her and fluster her and and and” “The Tashigi agenda is dying…”

Cipher Pol

Lucci: “good to see lucci and his stupid beard is in last place” “kind of want to be railed by his hybrid form so I have to vote for him”

Kaku: “if his nose is square does that mean his dick is too? just asking”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Ohh yeah I had a dream last night that the tide on Twitter somehow turned overnight and suddenly everyone hated Hobie Brown and everyone hated his fans because they quote 'condone senseless murder and glorify the killing of civil servants' unquote

And like all the ships with Hobie were suddenly considered 'proships' because it was shipping a character with a 'prejudice murderer'

People were saying he's worse than Miguel cause at least Miguel feels bad and doesn't flaunt killing people and saying Hobie is horrible for wearing murder as a fashion statement yadda yadda yadda

People were in my ask box like "ummm op do you condone cop killing??? Hobies in ur header and that's lk fucking disgusting 🤨😳'

I just remember feeling a profound sense of

I'm so happy I'm not in the bad timeline and im living here in the Only Slightly Better one

[howtofightwrite]

Followup: Oragnized Crime Recruitment

The Godfather book and the Mafia games, specifically the first Mafia game, are the closest examples of what the Original Asker wants for his game. Goodfellas is another potential example to base the process of one's recruitment into the criminal underworld. In general, recruitment in fiction is generally based on doing jobs and earning a reputation as to one's success at doing jobs. In Goodfellas, Henry Hill started off doing simple, legal-ish errands for the local mafia before the gangsters saw his potential and entrusted him with more illegal jobs. Original Asker's character could therefore be someone who is affiliated with a mobster, but not part of the inner circle until the character pulls off jobs which makes them someone worth recruiting to the organization. Or one could go the Tommy Angelo route and save a mobster's life. -ironwoodatl01

So, it's worth remembering that Goodfellas is (in broad strokes) non-fiction. Henry Hill was a real person. (1943-2012) He was an associate of the Lucchese family. There are some historical, “inaccuracies,” with the film. Though, his arrest in 1980 for narcotics, and turning state's witness is historically accurate, though the film skims over the part where he was ejected from the witness protection program in 1987. Goodfellas was adapted from Nicholas Pileggi's non-fiction book, Wiseguy. I haven't read the book, but it's plausible that some of the historical discrepancies may have come from the book.

In this case, the OP specifically wanted to avoid a background where someone grew up in the neighborhood. Which, I mean, that is their choice, but it is a very popular recruitment method, in part because it's very effective at screening out potential cops, or even recruiting potential tame cops down the line.

Ironically, thinking back now, Mafia, the original Saints Row, and Franklin's arc from GTA5 are all potential reference points for what the OP wanted, and thinking back on it now, they were asking for input on a game, rather than prose, so I should have factored that in with the original ask. The tricky thing about each of those examples is that they're dependent on a lot of very specific moving parts in their respective stories. (Though, to be fair, I barely remember the original Mafia.) None of them are strictly realistic, but they're all internally plausible, when you start factoring in the various character motivations at work.

For some reason, I'm reminded of the Thieves Guild recruitment in Skyrim, which is one of the goofiest criminal recruitments I've seen in a non-parody. Brynjolf grabs some random psychopath wandering through and says, “ah, yes, you must be a master of pickpocketing and interested in a life of crime.” Does it make any sense? Nope. Does it go a long way towards explaining why the Thieves Guild is falling apart? Yeah, kinda, when you think about it. Does the introduction work? For some players, yes.

If the player wants to get into a questline, the justification can be pretty flimsy and still work for that player. Usually we talk about suspension of disbelief like it's a universal constant, but it's individual per member of your audience. Normally, you want to do whatever you can to ensure the suspension of disbelief is as strong as possible. However, in a game, the player's own emotional investment can help shore up weak points.

I'm going to take a quote out of context (a little), but I'm reminded of a quote from Richard K. Morgan about Halo, “[it] is full of these bullshit archetypal characters and there's no real emotional effect.” And, while he was certainly dragged for that quote (and, really the entire interview, it was a mess), he wasn't wrong. The writing in Halo isn't what does the heavy lifting, a large part of that is the player's effort to get through the story. And, in basically any other medium, this would be an exceptionally bad thing.

You won't make your novel better by forcing your audience to complete reflex tests before they start each chapter.

But, with video games, the gameplay interludes, can actually build emotional investment for the player. Even on very flimsy premises.

I've often written about how writing in different mediums requires different approaches and has different strengths. If you want gorgeous combat, then live action or animation are the best forms for you story. If you want visually striking images that linger, comics might be the right choice. If you really want to get into a character's head and live there, prose will let you do that with a level of fine control that is difficult to replicate. (And, note, there's a lot of different pros and cons, so this isn't an exclusive list.) The funny thing is, if you want your audience to do the heavy lifting for suspension of disbelief, that's one of the places where video game writing really shines.

And so we loop back to the Skyrim example. Brynjolf's approach to finding new talent is absolute clown shoes, but it's something you might not notice if this is why you wandered into Riften. It only becomes a problem when you're just there to snuff Grelod the Kind, or are looking for someplace to unload all this garbage you picked up while delving into a Dwemer ruin up in the mountains.

This doesn't mean you should abandon the idea of good writing, but if your player is on the same page as you, you won't need to worry about having something completely believable. For example, the plot-line of Mafia, or (the original) Saints Row.

-Starke

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[clairedaring]

Spare Me Your Mercy is less a "Sammon series" than it is a "Wo+Lux series"

So I came across this Reddit post where OP explains how they're unable to enjoy the ongoing "Sammon series" aka SMYM and Petrichor.

And it just doesn't make sense to me how people keep categorising SMYM as a Sammon series when she didn't even do the screenwriting on this one, at most she's consulted for professional and specialised knowledge. Meanwhile Petrichor is based on the novel "Rust in the Rain" (หยดฝนกลิ่นสนิม) by SixTeenSeven but it's a Sammon series because she wrote the script for Petrichor with five other screenwriters.

I don't know but for me I'd find it more appropriate to compare Spare Me Your Mercy to series like To Sir With Love, Century of Love, Laws of Attraction or even Kahon Maha Ratuek which are directed by Wo & written by Lux.

Spare Me Your Mercy has already deviated itself by being an adaptation of two volumes of Euthanasia by Sammon rather than being a close-to-novel adaptation of one Sammon novel like MOD and Triage. Perhaps it having similar characteristics (rural settings, cops, doctors, thriller, crime, mystery, investigation) is enough for some to brand it a "Sammon series" but it's not the case for me.

Absolutely no idea where I'm going with this but I'm just really frustrated at people calling it a "Sammon series" when all the "underdeveloped", "rushing" sentiments are due to the major condensing of a large body of source material rather than a weak story (I have my tiny qualms with the novels as well, don't get me wrong but that's a story for another day. Great books though, could do with better translations).

Like you don't compare a Ma-Deaw Chookiat Sakveerakul work and a Wo Worawit work just because they have source material from the same author. That is not to mention that production company aka producers can have large influence over a story (especially its ending) and thus politics of producing a series for a BL koojin can also affect quality of a work.

Condensing stories wise aside, I do think Spare Me Your Mercy is doing a great job on sparking the debates on euthanasia with fair amount of scenes spent on Kan & Tew talking about their clashing views on this topic. If Lux and Wo's sole goal in making this series is to showcase a crime investigation series with two main characters having clashing views on euthanasia, I think they're doing well.

It's surely debatable whether the main characters' romance is convincing or not (This discourse I will I leave this to the non-readers who are getting to know KanTew throught the series and not reader audience like myself). Characterisation wise, I would say they're the exact same as the novels, with the lacking aspect being a lack of runtime to flesh out and develop the serial killings/the investigation/the development of characters' relationship.

I'm probably getting beside the point but perhaps if you want to watch a good suspense lakorn from screenwriter Lux about a cop investigating serial killings with his lover being a prime suspect, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND Kahon Maha Ratuek กาหลมหรทึก (2018) (engsub grey watch here)

No idea what my original point was in writing this since I'm not a stan of any of the mentioned creators (Wo, Lux, Sammon...) so I'm not writing this as a defense for anyone... I just prefer that critical comparisons be made with understanding of context and acknowledgement to different creative teams of respective series instead of crediting/attributing everything to one popular name in BL-sphere and using that to make quick judgements of a series.