#dammit at least give credit
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kimyoonmiauthor · 1 year ago
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Please cite your sources... and errata
Ever since I did the long post on Worldwide Story Structures and then edited the list of Story Structures on Wikipedia, more and more blogs, articles and so on have been popping up with the information I sourced when I backtrace and relook up the names of the story structures.
This is great! Because this means things like the Wikipedia page for Confessional has gotten longer with more sources added. People are paying attention more and so some of the ones I struggled with now have more information out there as people wear it with pride.
But this has also resulted in a new string of people not giving credit where credit is due and wholesale stealing from mainly Wikipedia or doing it poorly without understanding what they are taking (psst, mostly white people and white men, which I covered is somehow a past time and a trend...).
I'm really begging you, given what I've outlined over and over again to NOT do the latter. Please, please give credit to where you got your ideas. Do citations. Also, I've noticed that people have taken my ideas directly from my page, and then not given credit to me. And that one stings. I spent hours tracking down and experiencing story structures from the countries where I cited stories of different types to come up with the ideas, but then they cite usually white people instead. WTF. You took my ideas one for one, down to the wording, but can't cite the academic that came up with it or why? Haven't I gone over the dangers of this already? Like calling out Kenneth Rowe? I spent all that time citing what Freytag really said and people still want to hold on very strongly to the notion he came up with a different diagram, and call it "Updated" in what imagination? Just cite your sources and say it was also Syd Field, etc like I outlined and then give me damned credit for putting in the hours of tracking it down.
Look, I have the degree, the education, I bothered to give the sources and just because my gender is not man and my skin color is not white, does not mean my ideas and the work tracking down primary sources is not "valid". Stop being AHs and taking the hours I gave to you for free, the money I spent on books by erasing the credit when I argued really, really hard that you need to give credit to your sources.
The reason you cite your sources is so people can hold them to account for their ideas, so the person researching can inquire, why do you think that? Also exceptions to the rule... what about this? If they can't inquire, then it's much, much harder to hold the specific person and their ideas to academic rigor. I know that your professors went on a rant about how plagiarism is evil on a personal level and Kenneth Rowe was a professor that plagiarized and somehow got Shakespeare and Aristotle wrong, despite specializing in both, but as I've shown, it also destroys on a systemic level, because people can't name the source of the information and can make up crap, such as Aristotle wanted a 3-Act structure and say things like, "I heard that Aristotle was a sissy pants." and everyone believes them because what? You cited nothing, you just cited everything Aristotle wrote so they can't examine things like if the statement is true because they didn't read beyond Poetics 7 and didn't have enough background to understand that Readercism really, really doesn't work well in this case because the invention of the 5-paragraph Essay was in the 19th century, messing with how people think and organize.
I get it–you might hate me for some of my ideas, like say, Aristotle is a sexist pig, which he is. And Aristotle is not Jesus. Which he isn't. But you should at least cite your sources, especially when those sources have taken the time to cite other sources, like the primary works with page numbers, showing things like where the diagram for Freytag comes from (and how much of a genocidal AH he was).
Cite your sources, even when you hate their guts, like finding out Freytag was a pre-Nazi Fascist–I can cite the History of Opera (Lucy Worsley's Nights at the Opera (TV Mini Series 2017) and Wagner and how Freytag glows with how much he loved Wagner's The Ring saying that they now outstrip Shakespeare. When I say that Freytag was a pre-Fascist, I can cite his love of the middle class, imperialism, and love of the idea that Polish people would be wiped off the face of this Earth. Why? Because I bothered to read the original text. And because I did that I can cite the page numbers where he said so because I posted it up on my blog. And because I cited the page numbers, someone can chime in that I'm wrong.
Also, stop citing white people on PoC things. Favor own voices and stop erasing credit. I was very purposeful in citing the people I did. I spent hours using Japanese I learned, Chinese I learned, etc to make sure it was correct--which includes the Kishotenketsu diagram--which for some reason in the Kishotenketsu Wikipedia people deleted the credit for the diagram to the people I got it from where? Japanese people--something I took 2 years to find and edit in. WTF. What's wrong with you? (Someone also took the diagram and colored it badly and then erased the credit and then explained it on Youtube--the diagram I made off of the Youtube video I credited... c'mon.). They also took a bunch of the words I wrote for the page and gave no credit to Wikipedia. Do better, white dude.
I'm not asking for credit because I want it, and have an ego—no, what I want is the ability of people to interrogate their sources. To correct me down the line. To be able to check back to see if the statements made are original or not and then interrogate the truth of the matter. Because if anything, my journey through the idea of a singular "true" story structure that never changed over time, has proven very much to be false. And it took me *forever* and a day to unwind this myth. So I'd like subsequent generations to also be able to interrogate my work too. But they can't do that if they don't have access to my words, thoughts, and how I selected the parts of the text that I did. I'm very open to being wrong. I want to be corrected--I make errors all the time. And they are free to disagree from there. Much like I hate the idea that Aristotle thought that women get a soul later than men, because, as I said, he's a misogynistic pig and it was not the times.
Oh look, a citation. You can interrogate the source now.
And the source cites: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4021448/
Now you can interrogate the people who came up with it and find out where Aristotle said that.
The source says: "This question has evoked human thinking since ancient times. Hippocrates (460-370 BC) argued that man and woman each contributed semen that mixed in the uterus to form the embryo, whereas Aristotle (384-322 BC) favoured a more male-centred view that the woman merely provided fertile ground for the male seed to grow. "
With the numbers in place, then you can look at other sources such as: https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS0140-6736(05)71025-4/fulltext
And you see, new vocabulary pops up. Then you might ask, where did Aristotle say that? And now that you have vocabulary, you can find out if it's a myth or fact.
And from there, I was able to find the original source of the statement from Aristotle, and find the original text. (Which BTW, is still a misogynistic piece of crap) and add it back to the wikipedia page (which I did) De Anima 350 BCE.
I don't want to be cited because I think I'm correct. I don't want to be cited because I have an ego. I want to be cited because I'm pretty sure someone might think I'm wrong, and I want them to be able to inquire into my line of thinking and how I selected sources so that I might be corrected or examined down the line.
So stop being a white straight male, well, usually, and cite your sources. Your privilege isn't going to cushion you from being called out as wrong and a plagiarizer. And do you want to end up being called an imperialistic imperializer who hates PoCs? Please cite your sources and make sure your sources say what you think they say. If you don't, I or someone else is likely to find you and call you out. And don't make it me, because I do check sources.
BTW, more PoCs need to be "allowed" to have writing manuals without half of the internet breathing down their neck for not being white enough because that half of the internet didn't bother to read anything outside of European canon or want to imperialize European ideas of story on the rest of the world.
Oh, you made it this far... here is your reward; https://www.positivelyfilipino.com/magazine/the-joy-of-kuwentuhan
A story structure/story type that's older than colonization.
BTW, also watched a film from Filipino filmmakers and the story structure I cited earlier with the introduction (longer than the US) and the Third act (or second, if you're working off of the 3-act) had an inversion in "What if" (2023) which amused me a lot. I love when people play with expectations. Previously, I said Pinoy filmmakers try to leave the story structure behind and do something else, but to see someone expertly play on an old one and then flip it—that was magic.
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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Sohei 🤝 Kazama: Bad dads
who even IS a good dad in this series like who even is a dad that we can all look at and go 'now THATS a good dad right there'
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hellfirenacht · 1 month ago
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Anomaly Part 3
Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.
Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader
2.4k Words
Part 1, Part 2, Master List
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Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 
Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 
You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.
He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 
With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 
Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 
“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 
“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 
“I heard someone pushed you” 
Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 
“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 
You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 
“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”
Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?
Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 
Everyone except him. 
Not that it mattered. 
It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 
Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 
The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 
“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 
Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 
It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 
“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 
Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 
“Thanks.” you said shortly. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 
You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 
“Yes.” 
The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 
Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 
He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 
“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 
You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 
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You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 
Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 
Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 
It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 
English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 
When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 
Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 
It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?”
Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 
You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-
“Yes.” 
The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 
Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 
You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 
The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 
No one except the young man following behind you. 
Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 
“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”
Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 
“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 
You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 
You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 
It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 
“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”
I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 
“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 
God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 
You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 
“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 
“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.
“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 
Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 
You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 
She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 
Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.
“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 
You wanted to rip your hair out. 
“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 
“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 
Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?
“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”
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I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.
Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol
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vinnoa-articles · 1 year ago
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The Cure from Sleep Insanity
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[Image by Winter Mohn]
Rating: +18, meaning if you are under this age, do not read. You have been told.
Word count: 3,352
Type: Smut
Characters: reader (female), Law, Chopper and mentions of other Strawhats, Heart Pirates and other pirates.
Trigger warnings/content: choking, consent, some anger, swearing, teasing, restraints, multiple orgasms, fatigue, aftercare, a little rough.
Info: Some of it will be in italics, it is thoughts by another character. If it is Bold and Italics, then it is an ability.
“Why can’t I suture the wound closed when it’s-”
“Because the bleeding might start again, and it may cause more pain!” The little horned reindeer claimed, pointing his hoof at the irritated doctor of the Heart Pirates. Their hats sat side-by-side, in contrast to how they were sitting. He pointed across the books sprawled table, with a single candle flickering in between. The bags of restlessness was prominent under Law’s eyes.  “Think about it, if we wait and let time go by, it may be better”. Law glanced at the furry creature, and usually he would have a soft spot for this creature, but when it comes to the right choice as to what to do in the heat of the moment; he fights it out. Whereas Chopper always thinks with his heart, trying to save people with his soul instead of fighting with his fists. “You could remove the bullet from their chest cavity with your abilities. Tra-guy”. The tired doctor grumbled and scratched his head, trying to comprehend this small creature. Chopper really does seem to go the more humane route, but then again, he typically doesn’t get his paws dirty out in the field in a fight, but rather helping those who need treatment. Where as for Law-
“Yes, but there are limitations to my abilities. Even your abilities have a limit, yes?” His right hand rested under his jaw now, glancing quickly at the fluff ball. “I just-”.
“You need to sleep Tra-guy. You haven’t slept. Thinking rationally is what you need right now, especially if you haven’t been spending a lot of time with your partner”. Sluggishly, Law’s eyes finally met Chopper’s. How long has it been? Granted, a lot of stuff was on his mind such as the Marines, Big Mom, Kaido, Don Flamingo, and many other rivals. Even Luffy and Eustass Kid kept his mind busy, but he even had to think about his pals Bepo and the rest of his crew. Shit, it has been a while hasn’t it. The more I have been fighting and been researching, the more I have been… He hates being wrong next to the reindeer. Rather, he hates more than ever that he is right, and that he does need more sleep and social interaction; over fighting and reading. Leaving an exasperated sigh, and an aggravated groan, he leans on his chair. His messy hair was now slowly being pushed into one direction with how many times his hands ran through his hair tonight.
“Ah! God dammit Chopper-ya. I hate it when you are right, but…” his voice trailed off. Law’s mind was in the clouds, it has been ages since he unwound, let alone rest on a soft surface. Sleeping in chairs, the wooden deck of Sunny, the metal floor of Polar Tang, heck the grass on Sunny was a little better, however a bed sounds divine. Maybe even some time with his partner, but the grogginess has been getting to him. Being up for forty-some hours, he did start seeing visions; Bepo in an Uta outfit, a cooked thing of meat with a straw-hat on top, and-
“Law?” There is no way he heard your voice. He stares at Chopper, whose head was turned to the entrance. Finally turning his head, he saw your figure. Standing against the doorframe. Your eyebrows raised, as you look at him up and down. “Up…again? I can at least tell you bathed today”. God, they really do give him little credit, but as a doctor, if duty calls he has to be somewhat clean right? His black and yellow robe adorned his body loosely, the belt nearly coming undone, with his bare feet propped up on the table, you just had to take in this sight.
“Well, I need to head to bed. I can’t be late to breakfast in the morning!” Chopper hops off the chair nearly twice his height. You can see he is wearing his cute little pig pajamas, and you couldn’t help but smile at his cuteness. Then again, who wouldn’t be chuckling at this cute little doctor. “Jya-na (Japanese: See Ya)”. As he is about to leave the room, you bend down and plant a small little kiss, then pat his head.
“Thanks Chopper. At least we have one responsible doctor that cares about both his patients and himself”. Chopper hopped past you and froze quick before turning to you and glancing up.
“W-w-well…that doesn’t make me happy, konoyaro! (Japanese: you idiot)”, as he did his little cute bashful dance. As his small feet carry him out of your sight, his cute little hooves pit-patting down the long hallway of Sunny-Go. Chuckling at his reaction, you look up to see Law still leaning back in his chair staring at you. His frown was still on his face. When it happened was not apparent since his resting-bitch-face is usually what his default is. However, you can tell he was annoyed by something. By what, you are not really sure. Sighing, you walk closer to him, the candle still flickering near the doctor’s headpieces. Law’s gaze did not falter as you got within a few paces in front of him. He looks irritated even. What could it have been? The lack of sleep? Or maybe…jealousy?
“Law, you do see me right?” He blinked once, then twice, then closed his eyes. A small exhale escaped his lips as he slicked his hair back again, as some hairs came back to place.
“I am surprised you came to see me, if you are really here to see me”. His words stung, yet you could understand why he said that. He hasn’t slept, he has been stuck in this room for a long time. Even Bepo and Chopper bring meals to the library here and there to make sure he isn’t starving himself. Sanji gave up because Law used to forget to eat and the fresh food almost would go wasted; until he force fed it to Law which caused him to do a personality-switch-operation with Zoro and Sanji. Which led to an all out fight that nearly had Nami, Robin, Bepo, Penguin and even Jimbei get involved in. It got resolved, but it nearly took a day for Franky to fix the ship, and a stern scolding from Nami and Luffy to get Law, Zoro and Sanji to get back on track.
“Law, it is me”, your outfit was a lot tighter on your body than you were used to, yet your skirt was flowing so not only would you look cute but at least elegant. You dressed up earlier and didn’t change yet because you were partying at the island before, and you were on nightwatch with Brook tonight. Brook knew that you needed your own version of romance, he has been alive long enough to know that. Brook knew what he was doing, well maybe. “Law, come on…listen to me. It is me, even Chopper talked to me today. Despite how busy he is too!” He was super confused now, he wasn’t sure if it was his dick was talking because he wanted your touch, your skin against his, the warmth of your flesh emanating close to his fingers, the scent of salt from the sea and your body penetrating the air, or if it was the sleepiness and the depravity of rest. “Please look at me when I talk to you”, as you raise your hands to touch his stubble and beard, He smelled so nice of cleaner, yet also musky. He always did smell nice, usually. You could feel his face rest slowly, softly into your palms. Basking in your touch, the soft skin that cradled his jaw, which his fingers were on calloused from using his knives, to his sword. His fingers crawled up to hold your right hand under his jaw, while massaging it gently. This is what he wanted, but God was he going crazy. A man of composure, even in battle, and even when Luffy tells him what to do irks him beyond belief. Right now though, he could smell your scent, his head was starting to get muddled with thoughts. He craved you, a drug that could cure his insanity at this moment.
“God, I need sleep. I can’t be going this dumb over you”, he gasped out. Now you were hurt, how could he say such a thing? He should be happy to see you, not disappointed. You snatch your hands back, but you couldn’t help and hesitate to almost reach back to grab him. He looked tired, yet hot. His sigh rang out into the quiet air, only the slight crackle of the candle could be heard. “Listen, y/n-ya”.
“Save your excuses, I guess if you didn’t want to see me, then you could have said it in the first place”. You were agitated now. There is no way he talked to you like that just now.
“Wait, y/n-ya, that’s not what I meant. You know what I meant-”, Law was fumbling with his words. His robe was withstanding the heat emanating from his body. He could feel his member twitch, but he put down his legs from the table and crossed his legs to hide his growth. “Please, look…you know I didn’t mean it like that dammit,” slicking his hair back again. It was irresistible when he did that normally, and yet you couldn’t care now. “Please listen to me, I just want to understand what else I can do to save those around me. If I can’t do that then…”
“Then what Law? You can’t neglect your social health for just your studies. Your connections are just as important!”
“I know that! God dammit!” He slammed his hand on the table, wishing that was you earlier. “Do you know how long I have wanted to get this done so I can focus on you? Just you?” You were upset, but you have heard enough talk from him; you wanted more action.
“Put your money where your mouth is. Your hands work well on patients, yet it seems you don’t know how to work them at all outside of a fight”. That did it for him. He got up and grabbed your shoulders, nearly slamming you down on the wooden table, snuffing out the candle as you landed. You could see his eyes darkening as he looked at you. His robe was hanging off his frame, his belt so loose you could poke it and it would come undone.
“Say it again. You don’t know how hard I have been working here” nearly shaking you on the table. God, you could feel his hands trembling, yet gripping your shoulders as he shook you.
“I said, you don’t know how to work your hands outside of a fight”, those words made him want to prove you wrong. He was told what to do by Luffy, Chopper was right earlier, and now he cannot let you be right too. Law was slipping more and more from who he was, becoming sloppy with his thoughts. His face gets super close to yours, while he puts his left hand under your head and lifts it up to crash his lips onto yours. Tugging your hair slightly so that he could get a response from you. He knows you love it when he tugs your hair. In this moment though, you were just as stubborn as he, and you tried to fight the urge; no matter how hard it was for you to not moan. His kisses got deeper, and deeper, his tongue was exploring yours and you let go fighting his tongue. Closing your eyes, his lips left yours. You open your eyes to see his eyebrows furrowed, perplexed that what he was doing wasn’t making you moan already “is that all you got?” This brat… Lips traveling down your jaw and to your neck, marking and sucking to make sure people know who you belonged to. Regardless of whether you were right or if he was by the end of this. He looks up, and takes a step back.
Room
You knew what might happen now, and as you saw the space change-
Shambles
You were now in the medical room, of course you were. He must have switched something with you two, and now here you were. His robe comes undone, and you just see him in his black boxers with a bulge that you have seen here and there. You didn’t realize your body was partially leaned back on the medical table, it was cold and yet the room was slightly lit due to the small emergency light plug-in, in case Chopper had to come in. Before you could take in everything, your body gets flipped over, your chest pressing on the cold table. 
“I’ll show you how a doctor works, if you allow me-”
“Of course, you have my consent. Unless you really can’t work with your hands then-” He had heard enough of your back-talk. Room…Shambles Feeling the retrains popping into his hands, tying your hands behind your back. He already has to deal with you talking back, he doesn’t want to give you that power too. His hands gripping your tied hands, he hiked up your skirt so he could see your panties. You tried to stand up properly, but his grip was pushing you down firmly on the table.
“Now now, I can’t have my patient move around while I have to figure out what is wrong, now can I?” You can tell he was smirking based off his tone. His right hand was still gripping onto your wrists and you could feel his rough fingers slowly touching the outside of your panties. “I can tell my patient is aroused. Yet, the only medicine can only be administered by me.” You wanted his fingers in you, and he knew that. Your core ached, this is what you two have missed out on for awhile now. Heck, even the empty space next to you, day-in and day-out was making you restless. Shaking your ass, you waited for your reward for a response, but it never came. “What? You want these?” You felt his right hand loosen, yet his hand went up and on your neck. Subtly choking you, sticking his long fingers into your mouth. God, you wanted it his fingers, and how you longed for it. Subtly sucking on his fingers, you wanted to show him you were serious.
“P-puwase, ah need” Your words a mess, incoherent even to you.
“Need what? I can’t understand my patient.” He removed his fingers from your mouth and back under your neck, choking you slightly but not enough to even hurt. You could feel his other fingers tracing the outside of your wetness on your panties. You knew what was coming, but when? You gasped as you felt his fingers on your neck choke, then release, choke then release. He was a doctor, he knew what it would do to people if he did that.
“I need your fingers, Law!” You felt his fingers leave, only to dive into your panties, into your core. This is what you wanted, and finally you could feel this knot coming undone. His digits were moving in and out, then curling one he went in. He really did do his homework. Your moans and gasps kept emanating in rhythm, as you were grinding into his fingers. “Law- Law I am going to-” before you could finish, you came right onto his fingers. Your moan so loud, you could feel it reverberate through the room. Trembling as you rode out your high, as it has been so long since you felt this.
“So I don’t know how to use my hands, yes?” You couldn’t help it, you wanted to give in, he was right. If you denied it, you don’t even know what would happen, but you are a person of your word.
“Yes, yes you are right. God, now untie me”, you gasp out. Feeling the restraints go undone, he flips you back around, now you are on your back. He looks you up and down. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A tight shirt hugging your body, your skirt a mess, your underwear ajar. Whereas for you, what a sight to behold, his abs and tattoos. His hair was a mess from a little bit of sweat. It was as if you two were looking at each other for the first time again. Licking his fingers, he finally smiled. This was the smile you love, the one that makes you want to grab him and kiss him. To hug him and tell him that the One Piece is near for the taking.
“Y/n-ya…” he bends down to kiss your forehead, and smiles softly, “I don’t think my patient is fully done.” He grabbed a condom, and tore off the wrapper. Slowly pushing his boxers lower, and lower, seeing his v-line almost made you lose your mind. He knew what he was doing, and a doctor was observant.
“Please, Trafalgar…I love you,” you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his cute words. He was a doctor, and at moments you were his love patient. Your heart was robbed by this man, and yet it seemed you didn’t want it back. He pushes his boxers so it is off his waist and it falls to the floor. He peels off your underwear, and you could feel the cold air hit your pussy. Easily rolling the condom on, he lifts your legs up and onto his shoulders. 
“I missed this, y/n. I love you”. Hearing your name fall from his lips without his cute little accent, made your heart skip a beat.
“I missed this too Law. I love you”. Slowly pushing his cock into you, he watched as your mouth formed an “O” shape. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he knew you were ready. Your moans were slipping past your lewd lips, as he kept going in deeper and deeper until his abs nearly touched your stomach. Going slowly, then picking up the pace, the room was full of moans and grunts. “Fuck, Law, yes right there!” His groans and grunts were picking up the pace, you can feel his cock twitching inside you. The pit in your stomach started to form, it coming again. The slaps of skin, the smell of sweat, the creaking of the medical table was ringing in both your ears. He bent down to capture your lips with his, and finally he said his words.
“I am cumming”.
You were too, and with both your release, he slowed down his pace. Gasping for air as his high was running down. You, on the other hand, were shaking. Second orgasm in one night and it was intense due to your emotions of love becoming more than lust from the last orgasm. He slicked his hair back, which now was staying in place. Law tidied up himself so he didn’t look as dissolved from the fuck session. Taking off your clothes gently, he put his robe on your making sure despite being warm from what just happened, the room was still cold. Lifting you up, you could hear him gently say room…shambles. Feeling the plushness of a mattress and sheets on you. Was he here with you? Or was he in the room still? Suddenly, you felt a hand softly go on top of your side. He was here, next to you, by your side.
“Sorry Law for making you so upset”, you whispered not to wake up Zoro, Luffy, Chopper and Usopp from their slumber. Law chuckled slightly, and kissed your neck where there were his love bites slowly deepening in color.
“Its okay, I think I can finally get some good nights rest. Thank you for being my doctor in need.”
And yet, Brook had been wondering where you had been all night, no matter to him. He could sing his heart out tonight without a care in the world.
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onceuponapuffin · 7 months ago
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Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!
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It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.
As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.
“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”
“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”
Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.
“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”
“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”
Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.
At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.
And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’
So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.
You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.
THAT BEING SAID
You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.
The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.
It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.
“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”
“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.
“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”
“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”
“Trying is the key word there.”
“That’s true enough I suppose.”
The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.
“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”
“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.
“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.
“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”
“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.
“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes, Crowley?”
“You’re my angel. No one else.”
“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”
The shop bell dings.
“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”
When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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shotoh · 2 years ago
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❝ CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE ❞
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nnn is over! how did these boys fare last month?
characters: bakugou katsuki, kaminari denki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto, shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou
genre: smut
warnings: fem!reader, minors dni, everyone is 22+, bakugou (teasing), kaminari (quirk play, sub!kaminari), midoriya (masturbation), todoroki (somnophilia, cunnilingus), shinsou (catches you maturbating, quirk play), kirishima (breeding, mentions of cunnilingus), pet names (angel, love, babe, kitten, princess)
author’s note: enjoy this treat while i hole myself up in blue lock brainrot-
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+ BAKUGOU KATSUKI
when the boys were discussing the challenge in the group chat, of course they had to rope bakugou to play along with them. and to no one’s surprise, he thought the whole ordeal was completely dumb and more trouble than it was worth. yet they somehow got him to partake through relentless provocation, poking at his nerves until his pride no longer allowed him to remain silent and his thumbs vehemently typed a message back, stating in all caps—BRING IT ON YOU MORONS.
what he failed to consider was how little it actually takes to get him riled up. especially when it comes to you.
on the very first day of the challenge, he freezes in his tracks, arriving home from work to find you standing at the doorway. one of his dynamight t-shirts is draped over your pretty figure, a sweet smile adorning your lips. a simple yet effective recipe to get him on edge.
bakugou has to swallow the thick lump in his throat, fists clenched at his sides, attempting to muster some willpower to resist you. the challenge looming over his head somehow makes his instincts want to act up even more, slowly feeling something stir in his pants.
it’s only the first day, dammit, calm down!
are some of the few thoughts running rampant in his deprived mind. and all from just you in his shirt? it’s fine, if he can resist you now, then he’ll surely make it through the whole month without a hitch. right?
you tilt your head naively, unaware of what has him hesitating to greet you back. holding your arms out, you try ushering him into a “welcome home” embrace. the fabric of the shirt raises ever-so-slightly, but it’s just enough to see the chiffon fabric of your black panties above your supple thighs. that’s when his nonexistent resolve breaks and he gives into you, suddenly dashing from the doorway and carrying you in his arms.
his lips quickly overwhelm you, voice reduced to a whimper in the presence of his tongue seeking yours. “those dumbasses made me agree to some challenge,” he mutters between kisses against your skin, “knew it was fuckin’ stupid to begin with. be a fool to give this up for a whole ass month.”
you can’t seem to follow every word, engulfed in the hot sensation that travels between your thighs. your simple response is to pull him deeper, fingers wrinkling the fabric of bakugou’s shirt as he hoists your body up by the large palms groping your bottoms, transporting you both to the sanctuary of your bedroom.
later that night, bakugou messages the group chat about his quick defeat as your warm body nestles next to him.
the chat erupts in a fit of uproarious texts, a mixture of confusion and hysteria throughout. however, bakugou swallows his loss, knowing that the rest of them will have to suffer for the next twenty-nine days without being able to blow their loads.
FAILED - NOVEMBER 1ST
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+ KAMINARI DENKI
being a man in touch with trends, kaminari is the one who issued the challenge to everyone in the first place. which was a surprise, given that he sounded like the last person to have the self-control to stop himself from touching you for a month.
this isn’t very far from the truth, but hey, you have to give him some credit at least. he really did try his best, but unfortunately that resolve lasts only until the end of the first week before he finds himself frantic to be in between your legs again.
his initial strategy for success was simple. he goes about avoiding you in any way he can—leaving early for work and coming home much later after a day holed up at his agency, keeping himself immersed to ward off the aching desire to have your walls hugging his cock. though it saddens you that you have to limit your interactions with him, all for the sake of his standing in some challenge, you still support him. you also figure this could help him exercise some restraint for the future.
however, his thirty-day journey stops short one night while tucked beside you in bed.
when he settles his body under the covers, you rouse slightly from your sleep. “denki?” you murmur languidly and kaminari already feels a twinge in his gut at the sweet, sleepy sound of his name from your lips.
“y-yeah, babe, i’m here,” he assures, his shaky tone eluding your ears as you absentmindedly reach out for him. denki’s breath hitches in response to your arms wrapping around his midsection.
“mm, miss you…” from behind, you pull yourself snug against him. kaminari almost goes numb at the contact. he was already walking on a tightrope throughout the entire week, even a simple glance at you could’ve been enough to make him unravel. now with your soft, pliant body squeezing into him, he was about to be too far gone. your sweet fragrance was making him delirious, his mind going blank visualizing the outline of your tits on his back. god, he can’t take it anymore. he needs you to know exactly what you’re doing to him.
shifting you both around, he has free range to touch you in any way he wants, and the first thing he needs is to feel those pretty tits in his hands. he sneaks under your shirt and overhears your breathy whimpers at the sensation.
“d-denki..!” you gasp, feeling fully awake when his fingertips find your nipples and give them a playful sting of electricity. you arch your back into his hold, pressing your ass against his clothed erection that has him hissing between his teeth.
“fuck, sorry, babe. i couldn’t take it anymore.” his whines are high-pitched and needy as he grinds into you, granting himself some of that sweet friction he missed so much. his hands travel south in pursuit of your panties. he groans at the slick sticking to your folds. “need to be in you. c’mon, please please give it to me, i’ll be good...”
the pleas falling from his lips are so pretty and desperate. it’d be a shame to let him suffer by himself. to help him out, you sit up with the intention of getting on top of him. “okay, but don’t forget that you were the one who suggested this,” you warn with half-lidded eyes looking down at the deep blush painting his face, tugging at the waistband of his sleep shorts.
“yes, ma’am…”
well, at least he can say he lasted longer than bakugou.
FAILED - NOVEMBER 7TH
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+ MIDORIYA IZUKU
despite being somewhat confident in his ability to resist you, midoriya was already set to fail the moment he agreed to participate.
this month his hero agency is working on a collaboration with a clothing designer and retailer for an upcoming deku christmas collection, set to debut at the beginning of december. too caught up in his pro hero work and constantly keeping himself in check around you, the collab completely flies over his head. he forgets that a package full of the draft apparel for the collection was supposed to be delivered at his residence today.
he gets notice of the delivery from your text later that day while at his agency.
guess what came? you question in your message, following with an image of a large opened box with clothes sprawled all around. it must have been some time since you last texted him because as he continues scrolling through the chat, he finds streams of pictures you sent of yourself modeling in all the clothes, wrapped up in scarves, sweaters, and other winter apparel in his signature colors. he’s glad he’s in the privacy of his office, otherwise his sidekicks might notice him smiling like a lovesick fool at his phone, seeing his cute girlfriend all dolled up.
when he reaches the end of your message thread though, the smile on his lips slowly disappears. his eyes grow beady at the brightly-lit screen. the last picture you sent is of you laying across the soft sheets of your bed, camera pointing down at your figure with a knitted sweater pulled up above your chest, revealing an enticing set of green lingerie hugging your curves.
midoriya swallows thickly at the sight, eyes roaming over every detail he can see that makes the weight in his pants heavy and stiff. fuck, no one ever said anything about a deku lingerie set. how is he going to go on patrol again like this—hot and bothered while his girlfriend was at home, sitting all pretty with her feet giddily kicking in the air, sinfully aware of what she was doing to him.
there was no way he could ignore the dull ache between his legs anymore. him dialing your number over facetime is the final nail in the coffin. as the phone rings, he situates himself behind his desk, palming his bulge over his costume. when the call goes through, your face comes into view. you feign an innocent expression in front of him.
“hey, ‘zuku, what’s up?” you greet, voice a tad chirpier than usual, “did you like the little slideshow i gave you?” you revel in how flush his expression is, a tint of red swathing over the skin under his freckles.
“yeah, angel i loved it so much… c-can you show me the last set again, please?” he asks quietly, the question morphing into a desperate plea as he adds more pressure against his erection.
“hm, you mean this one?” on cue, you pan your phone so the camera can capture every inch of your body still clad in the fancy seasonal lingerie. from your end, you hear a quiet string of curses and the scratchy sound of a zipper.
“izuku, are you touching yourself to me?”
he shamelessly fists his cock under the desk. “yes, you’re gonna make me lose that bet, angel…”
“is a stupid challenge really more important than me though?” you pout, squeezing your tits together. izuku furiously shakes his head, his pace along his cock quickening desperately. you hum, “come home from patrol and prove it to me then. you might just get your christmas present early.”
needless to say, the crime rate in that area was reduced to zero by the end of the day.
FAILED - NOVEMBER 13TH
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+ TODOROKI SHOUTO
todoroki is another participant who initially sees the bet as more bothersome than beneficial. he couldn’t imagine a whole month without touching you. why should he have to control his natural urges around you when taking care of your needs, along with his own, was second nature for him? and all for what—bragging rights? it just doesn’t make any sense.
to convince him, the boys use the logic that edging himself will make the experience all the more mind-blowing at the end of the month. despite the new developments, his routine remains largely unchanged. he doesn’t see the need to actively ignore you, possessing the self-control to leave you with just a kiss on the forehead before bed and ending it at that. must be thanks to all the meditation he worked on while training to be a pro.
he will admit that he narrowly dodged a bullet during the first couple of nights. albeit just barely. unaware of the bet he placed amongst his group of friends, you tried initiating intimacy with him. you sat comfortable between his legs on the couch, a movie showing in front of you. it seemed tonight was going to be a normal occurrence—just a night dedicated to you both catching up on your favorite films—that is until he felt an extra weight against his crotch.  
a low grunt almost escapes the depths of his throat when you lift your body to scoot your pretty-self snug on his lap, shifting around with intention where shouto can already sense the point of no return. feeling the first throb of his cock, he has to hold you down by your waist to keep you steady. you face him with a mischievous glint in your eye, waiting for the mood to escalate further. todoroki barely had the heart to tell you he couldn’t go through with things tonight, explaining the bet, and watching your features adjust to the disappointing realization of no sex with him for a whole month.
for his sake, you still kept your spirits high to cheer him on. todoroki was grateful, kissing the tip of your nose as he muses sweet nothings in your ear. “i promise it will be worth it.”
it hurts him to leave you all flustered and worked up, but through the patience of a saint, he manages to get to the third week. most of the time he found extra relief from blasting villains with staggering amounts of ice and flames. things were going well for him, and once he was notified of the others’ losses, he seemed like a strong candidate to survive all thirty days.
that sentiment is smothered when he arrives home one night, crossing into the living room to find your sleeping body sprawled on the couch. his first instinct is to scoop you into your arms and take you to bed, but before he could cradle you against him, your lips part.
“shouto…” a tantalizing moan calls for him, the sound immediately coaxing his cock to attention, and making all the cells in his body go numb. eyes lidded, your voice continues to sweetly muse in your slumber, “need you, miss you so much…”
fuck, the innate desire to take care of you after realizing how much he’s been neglecting your needs overwhelms his reasoning. the bet is far behind him as he’s kneeling in front of the wetness coating your pretty cunt, your shorts and panties half-hazardly pulled down your legs.
the first taste of you in what seems like forever is delicious on his tongue, intoxicating his senses as your thighs squeeze his head, at odds with your collapsing slumber. with his mouth mercilessly fluttering around your sensitive bud, you soon wake up to an earth-shattering orgasm, rubbing your eyes to the two-toned man knelt in the middle of your spread legs.
“i’m sorry, love. i just want to make sure you’re taken care of, and you looked so gorgeous in your sleep, i couldn’t resist anymore.” he grabs your hand, leading it to the tight bulge on his crotch, his balls excruciatingly heavy and seeking relief.
“you’re going to take care of me too, right?”
FAILED - NOVEMBER 21ST
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+ SHINSOU HITOSHI
ever the competitive one, shinsou couldn’t pass up the opportunity to one-up all these horn dogs. though that isn’t to say he’s immune to your charms. there are plenty of moments where his resolve runs dangerously thin. every time you walk around the apartment in the skimpiest shorts or let out a particularly long whine while stretching, shinsou has half the mind to come and bend you over the nearest flat surface. but he collects himself, catching his breaths before handling his problems with a long cold shower.
what keeps his streak going is the fact that your schedules don’t align. being an underground pro meant he was stationed to patrol during the weeknights. by the time he was allowed to sleep, the sun would be peeking above the horizon, and you’d be waking up to start your day. thanks to this mundane routine, shinsou is looking to be in the running to complete the challenge.
on a particularly calm night, he’s overlooking the bright cityscape atop a building. his eyes are scanning the areas below, searching for any signs of criminal activity before his attention averts to the vibration in his pocket. he gives the caller id a glance and picks it up without a thought when he sees your name across the screen.
“kitten?” he answers in a hushed tone befitting of his surroundings.
“‘t-toshi, where are you?” your words quiver, seemingly on edge, which has the hero fixing his posture.
“i’m on patrol right now. why? did something happen? are you in danger?” his senses are heightened at the prospect of your safety being compromised, standing on high alert.
“n-no, it’s not that… i–” the short string of silence has shinsou biting his lip, “i just need you to come home.”
at that, shinsou drops everything in a heartbeat, alerting his sidekicks about his absence and letting them clean things up for the night. he swings across mazes of buildings to make his way to your apartment complex, landing at your front door. the entrance is pushed aside, the abrupt slam of the door echoing amidst his steps hastening toward your room.
“kitten are you–?! oh.”
well if this isn’t a sight to behold. when he crosses the threshold of your room, he’s shocked to be welcomed by your naked form spread lewdly on your bed. that feeling of shock quickly morphs into lust, lavender eyes darkening at your hand between your legs, watching your fingers part your folds.
“‘toshi, just need you here with me, can’t come without you.” your fingers work in tandem with your delicious whimpers, trying to massage that spot inside that made you writhe, but to no avail. it pales in comparison to shinsou’s thick digits which always knew where to touch and prod to reduce you to a babbling mess.
the man approaches the bed at his leisure, taking in your debauched state. the bed starts to dip at his extra weight. your skin scorches at how close he is. it’s been far too long.
“naughty, naughty. and to think you were doing so well for me this month, ” shinsou clicks his tongue. he scoots onto his stomach, fingers digging into your thighs to get a better view of your sobbing cunt. all those moments of restraint and freezing showers catch up to him, and his cock starts to ache in his pants. “what do you have to say for yourself, kitten?”
“i’m sor–” the words are hindered by the thick fog quickly blanketing your mind. when your eyes take on a listless hue, shinsou knows his quirk has taken effect.
“it’s too late for an apology now, i need to distribute your punishment.” he cups your chin in his hand, tilting you in his direction. “and only after i make you come on your own fingers will i let you ride my cock.”
FAILED - NOVEMBER 29TH
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+ KIRISHIMA EIJIROU
this whole month has been a true test of kirishima’s wits. for days upon days, it felt like a higher being was testing him, throwing every single obstacle they could think of to get him to crack and succumb to the sweet temptation that is you and your salacious ways. whether intentional or not, you never made it easy for him. kirishima couldn’t count the number of times his layer of self-control almost shattered right next to you, like when you would bend down and show off your gorgeous ass, or doll yourself up in the prettiest, body-hugging dresses for a night out with your friends.  
the thought of ripping whatever flimsy fabric you were wearing and folding you in half right then and there nearly overtook him. he just had to grit his teeth and feign indifference, when in reality his cock was growing heavier, throbbing with every passing day. he almost wanted to cry.
he simply swallowed his desires down and waited out the thirty days. the boys already thought he’d be one of the first to lose anyways so he was extra poised to prove them wrong. as his friends fell one by one to their urges, he was slowly gaining the conviction he needed to endure the next hellish weeks. after reaching the home stretch, he was practically counting down the hours—minutes even—until he was free from the shackles of the bet and could finally have you all to himself.
on the last night of the month, he’s already under the covers with you, who was sound asleep next to him. however, the redhead is wide awake, turned on his side to stare at the gleaming numbers on the digital clock resting on the nightstand. when the clock finally strikes twelve, every cell in his body rejoices. he shoots up from bed, jolting you from your sleep.
“babe, look! i made it! i survived no nut november!” he yells and whoops at his triumph as you’re adjusting to being violently rattled awake.
“that’s great, eiji, congrats–” you don’t even get your praises across before he’s on top of you, lips fervently coaxing yours apart. his hands palm at every inch of your soft body, pushing and pulling clothing away while you whimper below him. his large, toned body towers over you, licking his lips at his prey. “that means i don’t have to hold back anymore.” his guttural tone foreshadows the long night ahead for you both.
you don’t have any idea how many times you’ve lost yourself, too fucked out by the time kirishima was inserting his cock in you and pistoning your insides. prior to that, he was adamant to get you to come at least thrice on his tongue and fingers, ensuring you were prepared for his thick girth after a whole month empty and probably weeping for his cock. now your legs are being pried apart, calloused fingers bruising your flesh as he concentrates on breeding his babydoll.
“fuck, i missed this so much, you were made for me baby, just perfect,” he grunts, too pent up to even think of slowing down despite spilling load after load in your little cunt. you think you couldn’t get any fuller than this, but kirishima proves you wrong, pushing his seed back into you with every hard thrust. “don’t get tired on me now, princess. still got plenty more for you.”
being the sole winner of no nut november he asks the boys to pool together to buy him a new sturdy bed frame as his prize after yours broke the night before.
SUCCESS! - DECEMBER 1ST
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copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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an-idyllic-novelist · 11 months ago
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Husk with gender-neutral!reader relationship headcanons
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Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @nixie-writes, and a few other writers in the Hazbin Hotel community for helping me create a piece for one of my favorite characters from the 2019 pilot episode, Husk! :)
Warning: Husk's potty mouth and this is Hell, so indecent things are bound to happen but nothing to imply NSFW content.
Husk gave up on the idea of love years ago, preferring to drown himself in cheap booze and try his luck at the casino before Alastor pulls him away to do a job for him or some other shit because of his contract with the fucking asshole. Why else would he and Nifty be wastin’ time slaving away in a hotel that’s supposed to rehabilitate sinners? Least the pipsqueak gets to clean this place from top to bottom and away from the clients, and he’s stuck handling their drunk asses in the lobby bar.
Angel Dust has been the one who’s been trying to get into his pants since day one, but that’s a different story entirely. He’s persistent, Husk will give the prissy punk that much credit.
Though…he supposed it isn’t all too bad being here. Least since Vaggie hired you. Initially, the job offer she and Charlie had posted online was to manage the front desk, handle phone calls, and all of the other tasks required to be the hotel’s conceirge. However, since there still wasn’t enough staff to do everything, he would see flitting about carrying baskets of clean linens or giving tours around the hotel to potential clients, helping Vaggie with organizing meetings with the press, and so on.
He might be a drunk asshole, but if there’s one part in his body that’s still functioning besides his dick, it's his hearing.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s heard a snide remark from potential or current clients about your polite demeanor, if you’re actually a freak in bed, and a whole lotta other bullshit he did not want to hear when he’s still sober. He didn’t want to care but god fucking dammit it made his skin crawl at the idea of some asshole thinking they had a chance with you. You, who never seemed to lose your smile and would go out of your way to make Nifty’s day by belting out Broadway songs on top of the banister, completely lost in the character you were playing and not giving a shit about anything else.
Not gonna deny it, you had one hell of a voice. You could change the pitch of it so easily. From a high tone all the way down a low, smooth baritone that almost sounded like a siren’s song luring sailors to a watery grave.
When he actually musters the fucking courage (thanks to a lot of booze from earlier in the day) to ask if you’d like to go to a bar or even the casino, Husk thought you would reject him. After all, why would a someone like you would even want to hang around an old fucker like him?
But when he saw your face turn as red as a certain deer bastard’s suit and sputtered that you weren’t very good at the slots, though you were willingly to try your luck at the blackjack table as long it wasn’t a high stake one, Husk thought he had actually achieved the state of inebriation to where he was hallucinating.
However, he was proven wrong when you told him that you’ll be ready by seven to go to the casino. Since he’d been on good behavior and Charlie never had any issues with you as of late, the princess wouldn’t mind the two of you being out for a couple of hours as long as you kept your phones on you in case anything happened.
Alastor could care less since watching a tormented, loveless war veteran being bewitched by a beguiling songstress provided him with much needed entertainment~.
Upon arriving at the casino, Husk pulled you over to the slot machines. He showed you how they worked and how much money you should put in them, so you don’t lose all of it in under an hour. The old-fashioned ones with the levers weren’t so bad, though the rounds would go pretty quick if you weren’t paying attention to the denominations; same thing applied to the new tech ones, betting could go from 88 cents to up to two dollars.
In the end, you quit after trying three different machines and went to go find the restroom. Husk decided to go find a bar and order a couple of drinks. One for himself, and one for you. A couple of fellas, hellhounds by the look of ‘em, asked him if the ‘pretty little thing’ he was with earlier is with him or if you were single.
“They’re with me, so fuck off.” He grumbled.
“Ya sure about that, old man?”
Husker growled, feeling his hackles rise at the provocation, half of it he blamed on the booze. As much as he wanted to teach these punks a thing or two about showin’ respect….they weren’t worth ruinin’ his first date with you. First impressions made all the difference, least when he’d been alive. So he made a rude hand gesture and sat at the bar until he heard you call out to him.
“Everything all right, Husk? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything between you and your friends. The guys you were talkin’ to before they took off.”
He smirked. “Nah. If I knew them, they’d know how to play poker.” He stood up and grabbed his drink, handing over yours. “C’mon, let’s hit the blackjack tables and see how good you really are.” He said, leading you to your next stop for the night.
Turned out that you weren’t all talk. You were able to win five out of seven rounds, never showing any anxiety or indication that your hand was either good or bad. For kicks, Husk asked if you wanted to try the poker table. You agreed, but just to two rounds. If you weren’t comfortable continuing to play, please allow you to walk away. Husk agreed, opting to watch you from the sidelines as moral support instead of joining you at the table.
Three words could only describe what he saw next: holy fucking shit.
All you could do was smile sheepishly at him when he asked how the ever living fuck were you this good at gambling and didn’t say anything as the two of you left the casino with a hefty sum of cash.
“Would you believe me if I said I’d gotten banned from more than one casino when I was alive because I was just good at card counting?”
He stared at you for a long moment before he grinned widely, clapping you on the back. “I knew I had my eye on ya for a reason!”
‘Course, you’d never know that he wanted to show you that he’s one hell of a gambler at the casino instead of the other way ‘round. How he knew to play his cards right and treat you to something nice, show those little shitheads that a real gentleman knows how to win the game and a good-lookin’ partner all in the same night.
Still…gettin’ spoiled at a nice restaurant for a change wasn’t too bad…so long as no one from the hotel saw them. Especially Alastor.
And that was how your first date went. Nothing too crazy, least the two of you didn’t run into any trouble on the way back to the hotel. Husk walked you to your room, wished you good-night, and went to drink a little more before passing out in his own room.
Husk hasn’t been with anyone in an incredibly long time. There will be moments when he might seem harsher than usual towards you and tries to brush everything off, or chug it down with alcohol. He struggles to communicate with his feelings to someone else, so patience and respect for boundaries is key.
He does not tolerate any disrespect towards you, even if you try to tell him to ignore the sinner who is catcalling after you when the two of you are walking through the Pride Ring to pick up stuff for the hotel. If it happened at a bar while you’re on a date? Be prepared to have chairs go flying or Husk tearing a new hole in the poor bastard who pissed him off.
He is not a fan of PDA. He has a reputation to uphold in the hotel and on the streets. Behind closed doors, however, he will be more lenient. Cuddles and midday naps are exceptional, with him pressing against your body with his tail loosely coiled around your thigh and one of his wings acting as a shield or even a blanket.
Speaking of feathers and fur, he does need to groom himself periodically, especially when it's molting season. You need to be gentle if you want to help him since his skin can be especially sensitive around this time of the year.
Actions speak a lot louder to him than pretty words. If you show him that you do care for him and will never betray his trust or loyalty, he will return it tenfold. He will do everything in his power to make you as happy as you have made him in this shithole.
Taglist
@angelltheninth
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@selineram3421
@nixie-writes
@dragonempress18
@ceoofdabicorpsensfw
@lbcreations-blog
@chroniccorvus
@food-theorys-blog
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youuuimeanmee · 9 months ago
Text
SxF Chapter 95 Thoughts
The drought is over.
And HOLY MOLY
AAAAAA I know we're nearing the end-semester gala but I never thought we'd get it on THIS chapter AAAADHJDJSKDN
When I saw the chapter is 21-pages long, I made sure to savor it well sskskjs
"Guardians will not be attending the gala." DAMMIT. Oh wait, Twillight can just disguise himself as a volunteer. I forgot.
Lol this is really not good for Damian's poor little heart.
WOHOO Becky cute!!
Huh, looks like Henry and Martha had a history together. Maybe they used to be classmates in Eden? Or something else, maybe.
The party is different than I expected. I thought ALL students will mingle in one place. I thought we'd meet Demetrius here. Oh well.
Damn this is depressing. Reassignation class based on academic performances. It's really happening. Anya will be separated from Becky. Hopefully their classroom will not be that far off 🥲
Damn Damian. Looking fine there, like a true young chaebol.
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ANYA IS CUTE!! She's a princess!! 😭💕 I was surprised with her hair, I thought she'd keep the haircones. It's almost like as long as the little bundle of her hair is protected, any hairstyle is fine. Her dress though... It's darker than I expected; I thought she'd go with light color. But this is fine too. She's cute either way. (lowkey reminds me of a little witch, lol). It's also cute how she and Damian looks matching with black-and-white outfits, hehe. (Then again, this is b&w manga. Will their outfits have different color in the colored illlustration?)
Nicee Ewen, you do know when to give credits when it's due.
Nah Damian you're just making up shit now. You have excellent eyes, you know her dress is not cheap.
Of course Damian would fo anything for any imperial-scholar related. Cute.
Now this is interesting.
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Some people say it's a reference to Harry Potter, so I wonder if some of it will turn out to be true. Especially the last two: "the cursed underground maze in section 4" and "the sealed chamber in the tower of wisdom." Sounds like hella suspicious places for a school filled with top political figures in the country. What if those are the places Donovan entered often? Hmmm. *sus glance* Wonder if DamiAnya gang will tackle the 7 mysteries like in Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun and see something they shouldn't see like in Promised Neverland, lol.
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Anya, you got this! It's the name you learned in the school's interview! She already forgot, lol. But at least she got the "Ben" right!
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Wonder if any of these kids will become Anya's new classmate, lol. Endo really used his break time brainstorming new characters here.
OMG IM DED. Narcis Hubrisse. Brayzen. These fucking fitting names I swear 🤣🤣🤣
Yesss you go Becky. Set your standard high. Don't mingle yourself with these lowly boys.
YAAASS. A GENTLEMAN ASKING ANYA OUT. YOU GO BOY. Even if it's a facade at least it's better than these Hubrisse and Brayzen boys.
OH.MY.GOD. FFFUUUUCKKK AJDNSKDBKDJDJSKHDUDJXNJDKDHDJJSJKSJSJSYEEEESSSSSS
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HE'S HEREE HE'S FUCKING HERE. His hairstyle is ugly but HE'S HERE. I was wondering if we're gonna meet him soon. I was righttt, he iss gonna be a recurring character. I mean look at the name reveal from chapter 93. Look at that damn edgy hair. Hopefully he will be Anya's new classmate. But I never thought he'd put an interest in her as a runner-up in the classical language test. What is his background? How is he so good with the classical languange to even reach 90-ish points even though it's rarely taught? Does he have a connection with Anya with his gift in classical language and weird hairstyle? Why does he have such unsettling bow tie? I need to knooww
And he even pull off such a strong reaction from Damian too, skskjsksk. 2nd ML candidate? Lmao
Good to know Arnold's family is B tier. Not bad.
Twillightt you got soft. Letting Anya and Damian do whatever they want? What happen to the mission?
Lowkey sad to see Anya trying hard because Twillight didn't trust she would do a good job in plan B.
Oh mah gahh these preciouss kiddss 😭True homiess 😭😭💕💕
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At least this will ensure Anya to get her place fair and square.
I wonder if Twillight realize Anya is approaching Damian for the sake of world peace she mentioned. Or he's simply motivated with Anya's motivation.
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But at this rate, the dance will be over the moment Damian got his partner, lmaoo
Great comeback chapter! 🔥🔥🔥
*Edit: Screw what I said that Arnold might be the 2nd ML. I don't trust his hairstyle, his droopy eyes, his bow tie, and his polite manners. So far we've seen only adorable children but he could be evil for all we know. Better be cautious than sorry.*
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666writingcafe · 6 months ago
Text
Break It Up
MC
As Solomon and I are walking over to the castle to meet with Diavolo, we suddenly hear a whole lot of shouting. Seconds later, Mammon goes flying in the air and lands on his ass out in the middle of the street.
"What's the big idea?!" he yells, standing up and walking back towards the building he got thrown out of.
"Dammit," I mutter as I rush over to him, followed closely behind by Solomon.
"Mammon, no," I hear Asmo call out. He tries to pull his brother away, but he gets shoved hard. Solomon and I get on either side of Mammon and yank him back.
"Let me go!" he yells. "I have to teach them a lesson!"
"You're only going to provoke them more," Solomon tells them.
"Well, maybe they should be provoked! They have no right doing what they did to me, rotten sons of bitches!" Mammon starts walking forward again as he loudly threatens to kick the shop attendants out. Solomon loses his balance and lets go of Mammon. Somehow, I'm not only able to hold on to him, but also physically restrain him on my own merely by standing behind him and holding him against my chest.
"What the hell?!" Mammon screams.
"What did you do?" I hiss in his ear.
"I didn't do anything! They're the ones in the wrong! I just wanted to try on some clothes, and they're denying me service!"
"We don't sell to angel scum!" someone inside the shop hollers. Oh, so that's what this is about.
"We need to leave," I whisper to Mammon. "Now."
"But--"
"They're not going to listen to anything you have to say. The longer you push the issue, the more they're going to dig their heels in."
"It's wrong, Zephyr!"
"I agree, and I'll talk to them when they're in a calmer mood, but if we stay here any longer, they're going to end up calling the police, and they'll make these guys look cute in comparison." Mammon quits struggling in my arms, and I'm finally able to get him to walk away from the situation.
Once the four of us are a few blocks away, I ask the two brothers what they were even doing out there anyway.
"We just wanted to explore!" Asmo exclaims. "We've been cooped up in the castle for so long, and we just got our own place, so we figured we would see what the Devildom has to offer! Lucifer even gave Mammon his credit card!" His last statement causes me to stop and turn around to look sternly at Mammon.
"What?" he asks me.
"Don't play dumb."
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're a terrible liar. Hand over the card."
"But--"
"Would you rather Lucifer ask for it back personally? Because I'm sure he'd be so thrilled to find out that you took it without his permission." Asmo gasps.
"Mammon, you didn't!" he exclaims. Mammon tries to hide his expression by looking down at the ground, but I can see the guilt written all over his face.
"If you give it to me, I can at least act as a buffer against his anger," I tell him. Sheepishly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out Lucifer's credit card. Once I have it, I stick it in my own pocket. I just have to remember that it's there so that I can give it back to its rightful owner.
"Solomon, let Lord Diavolo know that Mammon and Asmo will be joining us. I don't want him to be surprised by their presence."
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr
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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 years ago
Text
Teeth
Part 5!
Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Anxiety, stalking, job shenanigans, Billy wiling to protect you in every way possible.
A/N: Babes, I am having the worst day possible. I could use some love. Please, please, send something, anything my way if you have any appreciation for me. ❤
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'Billy, it's what my friends call me.'
Was that what you were? Friends?
Or was it an accident?
'Right, sorry for bothering. Just curious.'
Okay, that was a good place to end.
You put your phone down, moving to grab a glass of water, but spinning back excitedly when another alert comes in.
'Don't say sorry. Or else.'
Fucking shit, was he flirting?
No way.
'Or else?' you ask.
Your heart pounds.
'Or else, I'll demand your apology in person, preferably over dinner.'
Holy fucking shit he was.
He liked you?
No, no way.
You let out an exasperated sigh.
Dammit, he was still a client.
Shit, you shouldn't.
'Sorry, Mister Russo, but I don't want to-' You begin to type it, but quickly backspace.
'Can we do it as friends?' You erase that too.
Yes, you wanted to say yes, yes sir, take me into your arms and then preferrably your bed.
Damn, you didn't know what to say.
the typing bubbles pop up, and you wait patiently.
'Let's table that conversation though, at least until our work relationship comes to an end. Yes?'
You breathe a sigh of relief.
'Yes, that sounds great.' You answer.
You move toward your window, looking over, hoping to catch sight of him.
He's there, shirtless once more, black joggers wrapped around his legs, wide shoulders and large hands.
He sips at his coffee, holding his phone up.
You look down, typing out a little message to send to him. You watch the corner of his lips pull up into a smile as he reads it.
'Happy Sunday.' Is all you'd said.
.
"Anvil accepted the proposal."
You breathe a sigh of relief.
"Good work." Andrew informs.
"Thanks, I thought I was on thin ice for a second there." You say, taking a sip of water in your relief.
Andrew nods in understanding.
"So we'll pass the project on to someone else so you can focus on other things." He says casually.
Wait, what?
He was giving the project to someone else?
"Wouldn't it be easier if I held on to it? I mean, I did all the grunt work for the assessment, I know the building better than anyone else here."
Andrew shrugs.
"It's just a building. Won't be that hard for someone else to pick up. We really need you focusing your skills elsewhere."
No room for argument.
Your shoulders drop, you nod in compliance.
You'd worked so hard, and that was it, someone else would get the credit for your work.
You were going to quit.
Maybe this was for the better, William wasn't a client to you now, maybe you could finally take him up on dinner.
You shake your head angrily, maybe he was the one who requested you be taken off. Maybe he'd only entertained the thought of you because you were a woman.
What if his only goal had been to seduce you?
You sigh, shoulders dropping as you approach your desk, noticing a couple of work documents come in.
You open them absentmindedly, sorting them into the right area on your desk, still deep in thought about what you should do.
Realistically, you should quit, if they didn't respect you now, they probably never would.
Very infuriating, maybe your place of work could use a little brushing up on ethics too.
You pull the last document from the last envelope and you frown.
This.... was a photo of you.
.
Billy was pissed.
He'd been invited in to sign contracts with your company, and discuss lead times and security protocols, and he'd just discovered that you'd been pulled from the project.
For once, he and the predator were in agreement.
He was going to raise hell.
"Unfortunately gentlemen, we have a problem."
He heard Andrew's heart pick up speed.
"What is it?"
Billy leans back in his seat.
"I'd prefer your old specialist, I've had time to watch and assess her work. She's able to answer almost any question I ask, and where she is unable, I don't have to wait long for an answer."
Andrew swallows.
"All my specialists are very much equipped to handle your questions." He protests.
Billy leans back, nods his head.
"I'm sorry, then I'm not interested in accepting your proposal," He leans forward, rises to a stand, "Pleasure doing business with you." He says, extending a hand to shake.
Andrew is sweating now, the stench of his anxiety permeates the air.
"We can come to some other arrangement, keep her on the project, so that she has time to focus on everything she needs to."
Billy hated that idea. It meant you would have to ask someone else's approval for your ideas, that someone else would be able to take credit for your hard work.
In every aspect, Billy found himself protective of you, and he wanted your complete involvement, or none at all.
"Then we don't really understand each other very much now do we?" He says, dropping his hand and turning away.
"Be reasonable, Mister Russo-"
"-I'm not being reasonable? I want the specialist that assessed the weak points in my company and drafted a plan to take lead on carrying out that plan. How is that unreasonable?"
Andrew hesitates, he swallows, the predator pulls hungrily at Billy, demanding blood, enticed by the scent of fear.
"She- she resigned a few days ago. Doesn't work here anymore."
The news shocks him, a little bit of worry snakes down his spine though he keeps himself calm.
He checks his watch absentmindedly.
"We could have saved a lot of time if you'd just told me that from the start." He nods his head at both men.
"Have fun finding someone half as good as her. Goodbye."
He turns finally, walks out of the office, smiles in satisfaction as he hears Andrew swear angrily.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, a quick text in your direction.
'We need to talk.'
.
Except you didn't want to talk to him. You'd been hiding in your house for the last few days, ever since you'd quit your job. The photo sitting on your kitchen counter.
It was you, leaving Amy's apartment a couple of weeks ago. It had worried you, that when you'd felt like you were being watched.... you were actually being watched.
You didn't say anything, wondering if it was just a one time thing. One single photo was barely enough to go to the police with, you'd be overlooked for more important things no doubt, and worse yet, what if things got worse because you reported it?
It just wasn't a good enough risk to take, so instead, you'd rushed on quitting your job, and decided to get back into the job market.
You're studying the photo when his text comes in, you wanted to burn it, pretend it didn't happen, and move on with your life. It was just one photo after all.
You reach for your phone, reading his message, the ominous nature of it sinking into you.
You try to be professional in your response.
'Sorry, Mister Russo, but I'm not available today.' Is your response.
'I just heard you quit your job.'
'Yes?'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
You blink, you don't know how to respond to that. You were barely acquaintances, you didn't owe him anything.
'Why would I have told you?' You ask.
You can almost sense his frustration.
'Let's meet. There's a café a block away.' He follows up with a location.
'6 p.m? Yes?'
When you don't respond, his next message is just your name, you find yourself clenching involuntarily, you can almost hear his voice in your head, the casual way he demands compliance.
'Okay.' Is all you say.
You still feel like you're being watched. From the moment you step out into the street, your heart is pounding, your lungs squeeze in your chest.
Was there someone watching you right now?
Would there be another photo?
You look around, and you check your peripherals, and though nothing is amiss, you still feel watched.
It's terrifying, you stop halfway to the café, you almost turn around and run back home.
Despite being afraid of outside, you knew that you were safe inside. You'd done a full assessment of Anvil's security, after all, you knew the weak points, and though there weren't many, you're sure Billy- William would have compensated for most of them by now.
But out here, there were too many places for an assailant to be hiding. It was scary, and you were almost petrified by the thoughts. There was a stalker, or even a new serial killer, just around the corner.
You really needed to book another session with your therapist.
You sit in the back corner of the little café, a very rustic interior decor, filled with stained wood countertops and paintings made out of coffee on the faded red walls.
The sound of the coffee grinder goes off every now and then, the steamed milk foamer next, and you find yourself relaxed by the repetitive sounds. No one looks at you, spares you a glance, and there's even a comfort in that.
But he takes the air out of the room when he walks in.
Your stomach, as knotted as it is, knots even more at the sight of him, heart fluttering, begging for something you've never had before.
Dressed down, grey shirt, black jeans, you want to sit on his firm thighs if only for a moment. He's not wearing a coat, or even a jacket, despite the chill in the evening air. He probably runs hot, and you think about what that would feel like, in bed, beside you, before you come to your senses.
"Would you like something?" He asks, when he comes up to the little booth you're at, palms braced against the table, eyes glancing at the menu in explanation.
"It's on me." He says easily.
The corner of your lip rises.
"Why? Because I left my job you think I can't afford a vanilla latte?"
Something rises in him, amusement perhaps, his eyes move slowly down your body, and then back up to your eyes.
"You think you're funny, but don't worry, I'll get you your vanilla latte."
He straightens, eyes lingering on your burning face. He turns, and walks to the counter.
You gulp.
Jesus Christ.
He comes back, with a cup for you, and one for himself, and you thank him easily.
"Tell me what happened." He starts, and you look up at him, his face composed, no room for argument.
You swallow.
"They pulled me from the project."
He nods.
"And... it made me feel undervalued... overlooked."
He takes a deep breath, you can't tell what's going through his mind.
"I turned the contract down."
You blink in surprise.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted your expertise, not some idiot who would lie to me and think they're getting away with it."
You lean back, sighing.
"They're going to think we're involved."
He shakes his head.
"Because I value your opinion?"
"Do you? Or is this-" You cut yourself off, glancing away.
"Say it."
"Is this... only because you want to be involved with me?"
A long moment of silence, your heart drops. He was going to make fun of you for assuming something like that no doubt.
"It's not that. It's the way you think. It's the way I can see you thinking ten steps ahead. Most people, are too focused on the brushstrokes, when you're looking at the whole painting."
Tears spring to your eyes. You look up, blinking fast to push them away. Your throat tightens.
To be seen like this, shook you to your very core.
"Thank you, I appreciate that." You say softly, voice barely above a whisper.
No one, had ever seen you like this before.
It made you want him. You'd been thinking this entire time that he couldn't give two shits about you, when he'd been appreciating your work ethic from a distance.
Did he like you? Probably not, but that was okay, because this was a good alternative.
"I want to hire you as a consultant." He follows up, smiling at you when your eyes widen.
"Mister Russo-"
"-Billy, please."
"Mister Russo," You emphasize with a shake of your head, "this is too much."
"How is it too much?" He asks, leaning back, "You're experienced with the innerworkings of my company, you know the layout, you know the problems. Name a price, and be there on Monday."
You clap a hand over your mouth, a soft laugh of disbelief bubbling through.
"You're insane." You say, eyebrows raised, daring to speak to him in such an informal manner.
He grins, beautiful and alluring, leaning in, eyes filled with mirth.
"I know I am. It's why I'm good at what I do. Think about it."
You nod, deep in thought.
You had a couple months of rent saved up as is, you would be able to survive for a little while if you turned him down.
On the other hand, Anvil was one of the best security companies in New York. There was no safer place. Any potential stalkers would find difficulty in getting random letters to you.
Plus, he valued you, he saw your worth, had made it extremely clear.
Only a fool would turn down what he could offer- or someone extremely smitten.
"To be very clear," You say, avoiding his eyes, "You're not offering this because you're interested in sleeping with me, are you? Because if you are, then I don't want it."
.
"I'm not interested like that." He lies, feels the predator roar in anger, curling one hand into a fist in his lap to fight it.
Her safety matters most, he tells himself, job safety included.
He would protect her.
Even if it meant he couldn't touch her again.
.
You can't help looking around.
It's dark now, and you're so on edge, looking behind you, studying each alleyway you pass, the paranoia pulling at the seams of your sanity, demanding you panic.
"We're not being followed." William says calmly from beside you.
You swallow, looking over at him.
"How do you know?"
He smiles softly, gazing forward.
"Before Anvil, I served ten years in the Marines. Three tours. I know when I'm being watched."
So you were just paranoid then.
You squeeze your fists tightly, releasing the tension in your body before confessing.
"A couple of months ago, someone tried to kill me." You say to him, eyes glued to the ground.
"I'd been camping in the woods with my friends, we did it every year, this time-" The words die, you can't find the strength to speak.
"I know. Anvil runs background checks. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
You breathe a sigh of relief, you'd figured the company had looked into you. Ensuring you weren't a security threat was very important. If it wasn't being done, you would have suggested it yourself.
"Yeah, thanks. After, it's just hard to relax when I'm outside. It's hard to do anything."
He nods, deep in thought.
"It's a good thing you work for a security company then, no safer place to be."
Later, into the night, when you're fast asleep, the predator visits you in your dreams.
"I'll keep you safe," He whispers into your ear, lays a soft kiss on your cheek.
You hum in bliss, arms curling tighter around the pillow you're holding, yearning for something you could only dream of.
.
.
.
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juiceedapplee · 4 months ago
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Con-Artists and You: How to Get Scammed
Sampo x gn!reader
A new item has been added to the menu!
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—Sampo has scammed and lied way too often to not be considered a con-artist. Being a con-artist has its ups and downs of course, you get money and meet people but you also risk getting your ass kicked. Thank god you’re around though, what would our dear old Sampo do without you?
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Here you stand, wondering what went wrong and why you no longer have any credits or shields in your wallet.
Did you get robbed? Mugged? No, the only time you went out before right now was to get your mail and take a short walk around and you were pretty sure no one ran off with your purse.
Okay, then did you lose it? Of course not, losing money isn’t that easy when you leave your wallet in the same place everyday and keep track of your finances. So then you must have been scammed or bought something no?
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Dammit. You recall meeting Sampo earlier, thinking you’d take a stroll since the weather was nice. Well how did he scam you? Last time I checked you were pretty good at detecting scams. Hey! It isn’t your fault that whenever Sampo shows up you can’t help but lose yourself in his eyes. It’s his for having those genes. And the way he laughs and talks with his hands, trying to get you to help him with something. “You’ll help me right?” Sampo asks you, a sort of desperation in his voice. And you, who have not really paying attention just nod and go “Mhm! I’d love to” “Wonderful! I’ll text you when I need ya! Welp, I gotta be off I have veery important business to attend to.” Sampo says as he waves good bye and walks off.
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But if that’s not how you lost your money then how? Well, after Sampo sent you a text, you went out to meet him. And there he was, holding a few bags standing around, waiting for you to show up. “Ah! There you are, I was wondering if you could a-bla-blah-blah” Yep. You decided to tune him out in favor of staring at his lips move, occasionally nodding your head and saying “Yeah.” “Mhm.” “Totally.”
“Then I’ll be sure to treat you dinner to repay you, my dear friend.” Oh, is it a date? No. “Wow, I can’t believe we’re going on a date.” Is what you think in your head, muting that part of yourself that says that no, it isn’t a date and he literally just called you friend. “Alright then if you could just hand me the money than that would be great!”
What? Money? When did he? Oh. It must of been when you were tuning him out. Oopsies! What can you do other than give it to him now, plus, he’s gonna take you out to dinner! You pull out your wallet and hand it to him, telling him to “Just take what you need! I get paid soon anyway.” That’s a lie. “Wow, you really are so nice. Yknow, I like to think im just a hard working guy, someone who just wants to live his life but keeps getting roped into other people’s problems. Oh woe is me.” He says as he takes every bit of cash out your wallet. “Well I’ll see you around friend! I’ll text ya when I can take you out for dinner!”
Ah. So that’s how that happened. 😐
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Well, in your defense, I guess you were so unfocused that you couldn’t have been able to know what would’ve happened, if only he wasn’t so pretty, and if only you weren’t so in love with him.
So here you are, standing outside, no money in your wallet and a craving for stone grilled olm. Well, at least Sampo will take you out to dinner, eventually.
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This drink contains
A small cash grab: $5.00
A bomb shaped ice cube: ¢.25
A dash of delusion: $1.50
Total: $6.75
I decided to spontaneously start a new fic and it was gonna be “how to not get scammed” with reader kicking his ass but I decided against it, I also didn’t go in that direction anyway. But I thought why not make a fic about the man who inspired my theme (and my bbg)
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wr1t3w1tm3 · 10 months ago
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I wanted to add another little bit about clothing and characters of PotC.
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I don't think it's a coincidence that of all the characters, only Jack Sparrows costume has remained relatively unchanged. Of all the characters, he's changed the least.
But looking at Elizabeth in the picture above, on the right, we see that her outfit has changed quiet a lot from her first (adult) appearance in CotBP (below).
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In CotBP, she is obviously wearing a dress with a corset, but we see she is wearing a white dress with yellow accents. Her final outfit from At World's End (outside of the end credit scene, which doesn't count) is black with gold/yellow accents. Earlier in AWE, we see her in all black, and even briefly in the scene where Soa Feng puts her in the more ornamental robes, those are dark colors. My point here is that as Elizabeth's story progresses, she dresses in darker colors. It happens in every movie.
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In CotBP she goes from the white with gold to a sort of mauve-y red (IDK I don't know my colors that well) to that bright red coat on Isla De Muerta. And at the end, during the execution sequence, she's in that other yellow dress (see below). And even when she's in her underthings, they're white. Which we only see her in when she's surrounded by Norrington and his soldiers. When she's back where society would deem her "place". When she's aboard a pirate vessel, where she can be truer to herself, she's in darker colors. Around society, she has an image to upkeep, so she wears the lighter colors, using them as a shield.
And I can't forget pants. Elizabeth wearing pants near the end of the movie really drives home just how much she's changed in these movies. Here she's wearing arguably the least amount of clothes she's worn during the entire movie (even her underclothes are several layers of full-length dress like stuff). Even Anamaria, the only other significant female character in CotBP wears pants. They show the freedom these women have as pirates. This same point can be made when she eventually ends up in soley pants through the mid part of DMC to the end of AWE, except for the brief moment she's in a dress while imprisoned by Soa Feng, which I feel only strengthens my point.
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Now, let's look at Will in the above (left) picture. He's in what I like to call his "Muskateer Get Up" - he's wearing the more billowy, formal shirt, a brown vest with double crossed belts, a red cape, brown pants and that garish hat. Will's outfits in CotBP are much less about color and more about appearance. In the picture above from Will's first adult appearance, he is pictured wearing a full, formal suit with tie, coat, and everything. As the movie progresses and he gets closer and closer to Elizabeth, he loses more pieces of that suit.
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By the end of CotBP, Will is left with just his vest, trousers, and undershirt from the original ensemble.
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Him putting on the more colorful ensemble at the end to free Jack is symbolic of him accepting his true identity (son of a pirate) and allow his experiences to change him.
I wanna talk about hair here for a second. Elizabeth and Will both get hair used as a symbol as well. For Will, his is kept up until approx. his capture in CotBP by Barbossa. Once he's finally in the thick of it, and once again when he's accepted the results of his actions, it's down (in the opening shot with Governor Swann we can see his hair is kept back in a ponytail). The same can be said for Elizabeth: during the scenes where she is wearing her lighter clothes, where society is expecting something of her, her hair is kept up. When she goes out to Barbossa's ship, and basically up until she's back in her stuffy societal position, her hair is down. Now, it's not practical, but it is symbolic (I still don't give it a pass. That is a crime honey. I have to put my hair back to walk to class when it's windy, put your damn hair up on the high seas dammit!).
Back to clothes: we really get to see this change in Elizabeth and Will's characters and their clothing best in DMC and AWE.
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We can see here that Elizabeth is once again in yellow, and her hair is done in a half up, half down style. Her yellow is once again a symbol of her being in a societally "acceptable" position (the same can be said for Will, more on that in a moment), however her hair can be seen as a sort of "sticking it to the man", since, as we've established, Elizabeth's hair is down when she is getting a taste of freedom. Marrying Will is an act of freedom for her, since she's not been forced to marry Norrington. With Will, we get a special blend of symbolism. He too is wearing yellow, which can be seen as symbolic of him doing a "societally deemed chill" thing: getting married. However, his is surrounded by the much darker blue, which as I will establish momentarily, is a symbol of him straying further towards piracy and away from society. This is also the fanciest get up we see him in: he looks like a soldier and has the same tricorn hat we know Jack wears. As far as his hair, it's up in a ponytail. So, we know that Will is in a societally acceptable position, but just like Elizabeth, his scuffle with pirates previously has changed him. However, unlike Elizabeth, he's not really acknowledging that in public, hence the ponytail.
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Just like with CotBP, DMC gives us similar outfit evolutions with Will and Elizabeth, but with some minor changes. Will still ends up stripping down to the most basic components of his suit by the end (though this time he doesn't get a final outfit change, though it appears he gets it at the beginning as he doesn't seem to be in the full wedding suit when he leaves Port Royal) and Elizabeth ends up in pants and a red shirt once more. Both have their hair down as they return to piracy, again a symbol of their freedom or even just comfort level away from society. Elizabeth is back in pants again, relatively free (despite the whole Davy Jones situation). The only major hair change to note is that when she's on Tortuga, Elizabeth keeps her hair up and very short looking. Even if this is a temporary change, it's the first time we really see her acting like a pirate. Even stowing over to Tortuga she'd kept to the shadows and been witty about her interactions with the crew. This shorter hair can be taken to symbolize a new start (even if, again, it's only temporary).
What I want to note here is the colors used. Both end up wearing significantly darker colors by the end of the film. Even their yellow and blue at the beginning of the film are the darkest we've seen outside of the blue navy coats, but I'd personally argue that Will's coat is darker than the EICo's blue. Elizabeth's dress is a darker yellow, and as the movie progresses, they end up in darker and darker colors. Both end in grungy, dirty clothes too, in contrast with the previous film. Will is in greyer tinted, dingy stuff, and Elizabeth is wearing maroon and a brown darker than Will's from CotBP.
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Also, I'm putting a quick pin in Elizabeth's maroon from DMC for Will's fit in AWE. We already saw Will wearing yellow for the first time in DMC when Elizabeth so prominently wore the color in CotBP, so him wearing maroon in AWE after Elizabeth wore it prominently in DMC cannot be a coincidence. I think it's probably a very literal symbol, in that she is really starting to rub off on Will.
Now let's jump to AWE. Elizabeth is featured initially in all black (minus the hat and poncho which are quickly discarded). Will's outfit also appears this way due to the water he's been soaked in, although we soon learn that it's black with the maroon shirt. Everyone's in mostly dark clothes, as this is a dark hour for pirates. Also here, Will's hair is undone, and Elizabeth's is in a tight braid. Again, Elizabeth is in a more "acceptable" position, but this doesn't last long. It's down again once they hit Davy Jones locker. Will's hair, however, stays back almost the entire movie, beginning with their search for the locker (See below).
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As I mentioned before, the dark clothes are a pretty standard symbol for dark times. Just about everyone in this movie is wearing dark clothes. The maroon on Will still shows how Elizabeth has rubbed off on him, but his hair back shows us he isn't as free as he could be, how he's trying to hide the effect of his experiences on the Flying Dutchman from everyone. He's weighed down between his options: Elizabeth and his father. We learn pretty quickly into the movie that he's gonna have to choose, and he doesn't want too.
Once again, as mentioned above, Elizabeth is the one who gets an outfit change for this movie. First, she ends up in the red and blue ensemble from Soa Feng. Red is a color we've seen her in before, one we know she's comfortable in. Blue is one we haven't seen her in, so we can see how she sort of feels during this scene through these colors. At first, she's ill at ease, but once Soa Feng reveals his cards, she gets him hook, line, and sinker. She's in control. She's cool, she knows what she's doing.
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When Elizabeth rolls up to the pirate council in the black and gold threads from Soa Feng, she also has her hair up (not many pictures of that, unfortunately). And while, yes, that does mean she's in an "acceptable position", I think here its more that she's in a position she's prepared for. She's the governor's daughter, so a position of power is something she theoretically should have in the bag. And we see she does because she becomes Pirate King pretty quick. Again, it's a dark hour, but that gold really ties her character back to when she was firmly the governor's daughter: when she only wore yellow. Something I didn't mention above is that Elizabeth really only wears yellow in the presence of her father, the governor. And again, really only while he's the real power. By the time he loses that to Cutler Beckett, she's in maroon and brown. The colors symbolize that while this is the pirate's darkest hour, Elizabeth is prepared for this. She can lead them. And her hair, once again down, represents that she is free here, even in the face of impending doom (same with her pants). She is a real pirate, and she's ready to fight for their freedom (even if I would HIGHLY recommend tying your damn hair back, girl!).
Let's look at Will now. In AWE, he's got some pretty static character stuff, but that's okay, because he got a lot of that in DMC. His most major outfit is the switch from a black vest during the locker sequences to a black coat when Jack throws him overboard and lets him get captured. He's still got a crossed belt, which has become a staple, and we get a little pop of color from his sash/gun belt thing. Which, funnily enough, looks to be predominantly brown, red, and gold.
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So as far as colors, we again get the darkest hour bit, although for Will his is more of a darkest hour because he's going to soon be forced to choose between his dad and his (I'm assuming) fiancé. The maroon shows that Will and Elizabeth are still connected, she's still rubbing off on him despite their coolness during this movie. The steaks of color in his belt help us really see where he came from too, red from AWE, the gold again from Elizabeth, and the brown calling all the way back to CotBP.
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Will's final costume change comes once he's sort of forced into the captainship of the Flying Dutchman. He's still wearing the black coat and maroon shirt, with the black crossed belt, but there's two major changes: the bandanna and his hair. The hair I'll harp on real quick because it's down. And as far as we've discussed, that mean he's more himself, that he's allowing the world to see just how much he's been changed by the circumstances around him. Like Calypso says, Will has a "touch 'a destiny", and as far as we can tell, this is quite literally where he is meant to be (for the 2007 crowd this was assumed to be in perpetuity as well). This is like, literally the 2nd or 2 times his hair is down in this movie. Do I like that all the symbols are pointing to him being here on purpose? fuck no. But it gives me that kind-of-icky-kind-of-not pit on my stomach that tells me this is a narratively satisfying conclusion.
Turning to the bandana, this is something we've never seen his character wear, ever, in the entire franchise. The only other prominent characters we see wear bandannas are those who do so under hats: Jack and Barbossa. And both of them are captains. So, the bandana not only signifies the magic-girl-transformation(TM)that Will undergoes after getting his heart carved out by (assumedly) his own father; but it also symbolizes his new role in life: captain of the Flying Dutchman. Its color tells us something too, the same as his clothes. The maroon symbolizes how Elizabeth has worn off on him, and the black shows us that when he became captain, it was a dark time. But the bandanna, that baby is green. What can that symbolize? Well, do me a favor and scroll back up to Will and Elizabeth's wedding outfits from DMC. What colors are they wearing? Yellow and Blue? I sure hope so. What color does yellow + blue = ? Green. Will's bandana symbolizes not only his new station in life, but also the entwinement of his and Elizabeths' destinies, now for all eternity. That's why even though Norrington ended up in gold and blue, like Will, he never got any green, he says it himself: "Our destinies were entwined, but never joined" (I paraphrase).
So, in conclusion, the wardrobe department for this trilogy slaps, the writers were great, Gore Verbisnky is a legend, and I just spent over a literal hour over analyzing the clothing on two fictional pirates in a Disney movie franchise based on a ride.
I love how I said this was gonna be little. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk ya'll. Felt like pictures might do us some good this time and break up the giant walls of text. This has been fun to put together, and I may do an analysis of other characters later, but IDK. I'm trying to outline a new WIP so... we'll see how long that one lasts. I may do an analysis of the costumes from five as they pertain to the original trilogy, but I don't know yet (for reference, I personally don't consider 4 as a main line story. It's like Rogue One is to the Original Star Wars trilogy, it explains a couple plot points for the next movie, but it's not a necessary watch).
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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years ago
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Thanksgiving is over so it is officially Christmas so here..
Imagine Sanji Eating You Out Under the Christmas Tree (NSFW)
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WC: 1k
Black Fem Reader
CW: Riding, Cunnlings, Pet Names(Angel, Baby, Love), Kissing, Praise, Tongue Sucking, Cursing, Vanilla Sex,…Reader is Only Wearing a Christmas Hat and braids
“Shit…just like that…you’re so beautiful, Angel….”
The sight of Sanji’s naked body under you, eye lids heavy, not on your face anymore, but fixated on how your pussy swallows him whole as you slowly bounce on him with the guidance of his strong hands. His hair damp rubbing against the cool floor beside the pretty white Christmas Tree you both spent the entire day decorating in the Aquarium. It was so beautiful. Sanji picked it just for you after you guys were looking for a huge Tree for the middle of the Sunny’s deck.
The least you could do was thank him.
The colorful lights in addition to the reflection of the dark blue water bounces off your darken skin, you were shining like silver with your hand pushing back your braids and adjusting your hat that was rising from your head. You wasn’t sure what it was, but Sanji was so infatuated with how you looked in his Christmas hat. He called you “ his little helper “, and that you were.
It was already late and originally it started with a kiss under the mistletoe that Sanji kept pulling out of his pocket which made you laugh each time, but the atmosphere was so right, it felt cozy, something about the holiday season with the Strawhats always felt like home. Snowball fights with Chopper, Luffy and Usopp, Present shopping with Robin and Nami, making up Christmas songs with Brook, and decorating the outer Sunny with Franky and Jinbei. Tonight however you wanted to spend this night with your pretty man Sanji not only underneath the mistletoe, but by the Christmas Tree.
Heavy breathes were exchanged when you reached his parted lips to peck with many appreciative kisses making the love cook burst in giggles instead of whining, you loved these little moments of intimacy with him, he always made sex fun, sweet, and memorable and you knew it would take a greater effect in his mind if you both did so in such a perfect setting.
Sanji cupped your ass with both hands, giving it a firm massage of admiration because he can never get over how soft and squishy your are down there. The sweet pecks of kisses turned into him kissing your tongue, your eyes opened at the touch, but didn’t oppose of course, you stuck your tongue out with a smile inviting him to do more and he took it by licking and sucking on it. You mentally chuckle at how lewd you both tend to take it when it comes to kissing, not letting the other breath, sucking his bottom lip and teasing to wrestle your tongue in his mouth, but there was no complaints it was all a mutual love. You kept slow grinding on his cock as well not ignoring the pretty sounds coming from Sanji’s mouth.
“Lay back, Baby.” He pulled away and held your lower back, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist to be lowered on the thin blanket that was placed under his legs for some comfort, he pecked your hot forehead and pulled out his cock to stroke it a bit, you missed him already clenching around nothing as you stared at how lubed up it was from your arousal. He smiled at your anticipation biting your lips waiting for his next move, Sanj pried you open kissing your thigh sucking up the dripping juices you kept releasing. “Can I Taste you once more, my love? Please?”
You nodded before he even finished his question earning you a wink, dammit he was so sexy when he was in the zone of making you feel good. The blonde hummed rubbing your folds for a second, just loving how wet you get for him and him alone.
“So gorgeous…” was all you heard until his hot muscle wrapped immediately around your soft sensitive clit, you arched your hips with his name spilling out your mouth, “We taste so good together, baby…”
You had to give Sanji credit, his tongue and fingers always left you a wet and panting mess. If Sanji wasn’t a proud man he’d definitely become one with how weak you are to him when he’s between your thighs.
“Sanjiiiiiii..” You cry out boosting his ego, your hands gripping his scalp while trying to squeeze him in , his head and tongue moved all around you with no sense of rhythm or direction he just was enjoying his favorite meal laying on his stomach with his favorite ear muffs called your thighs.
You moved up and down, riding your orgasm until tears prickled your eyes, legs shaking and twitching cuming like a complete pornstar screaming his name over and over already too dumb to make any other words form. You swear each time he goes down in you your orgasm is better than the last,
“Sanji….” He rose up to face you, mouth covered in your slick, your face warmed at the sight, his pupils were small shaped of hearts looking at you as you squeezed his cheeks a little making you huff out your nose.
He kissed you again, now messier and sloppier, it was so needy, but this was probably Sanji’s second favorite part about eating you; your kisses are so needy.
“Please…please fuck me, Sanji..” You beg grinding your slit on his harden cock, he quickly obliged holding up your right leg, nearly at your side kissing you slowly while pushing his way inside you.
“You’re so stunning, Angel…” His shaky voice in your mouth looking at your darkened lust filled eyes snapping his hips feeling as if he is going deeper inside you with each thrust making you moan each time. “I love you…”
He wished somehow this night was caught on camera , your body pressed so closely against his by the tree, not stopping until the point of a painful overstimulation overtakes you both nearly falling asleep right after the 4th orgasm, he knew he’d have to carry you back to the room and clean the mess before anybody came here, but it was all worth it.
You were his favorite present to get that year.
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thatonebirdwrites · 1 year ago
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Cooking
Asami: *hard at work trying to cook in the kitchen for once* Oh, dammit, we're out of eggs. *thinks through her knowledge of chemistry to see what might replace the eggs.* Asami: I bet Korra won't even notice! *later that evening* Korra: Hey! I'm home! What do you want for dinner? Asami: I made it this time! Korra: *instantly on high alert* You... made dinner? *Asami leads her to the table and pushes her into a chair with a quick kiss.* Asami: I thought since you had to deal with Raiko today, I'd cook for once. I used one of your recipes. Korra: ... Korra: Did you use all the ingredients this time? Asami: *puts her hands on her hips* Give me some credit, Korra. Korra: *sweating nervously* Sorry! Just surprised that's all! *Asami eagerly places the dish on the table and serves Korra a full bowl, while watching her intently* Korra: Well, it looks good at least! *Korra tastes the food only to spit it out in horror* Korra: Asami! What did you do to it?? Asami: What? We ran out of eggs. I thought gelatin would serve as a good replacement. Both act as binding agents. Korra: ... Korra: You know what? Let's go out to eat! It'll be fun!
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crazylittlejester · 6 months ago
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I think we need to give more credit to sky, wars, and twi’s (the big brother trio) gremlin potential. A lot of times theyre written as the dependable, unshakable shoulders to lean on, dragging the younguns back from mischief but!!! Canonically!! Theyre so goofy!!! The heros spirit is full of shenanigans!!! Let them be silly dammit!!! Let them do stupid shit!!! Group chaos, as a treat.
HELL YEAH I AGREE, I’ve written and posted at least one crack fic with these three, but ive got several in my wips
They deserve to be silly and stupid
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lynntbw · 1 month ago
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I’ll give credit to Fanboy and Chum Chum for at least trying to make it’s 3D animation look good even tho the final results are rather meh but dammit I wish the show had the same art style that they used for the title cards cuz it looks so much better.
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