#hey there sharpshooter

[tortoisebore]

something something “heaven” by mitski etc etc

details below the cut but they’re not hq bc i made this before i figured out canvas sizes on procreate lmfaooo

[imsiriuslyreading]

merry christmas! i hope that if you too struggle with family obligations or difficult dynamics around this time, you find some peace, comfort and love in your fave stories and characters. and also your weird little friends in your phone 🫶🏽

[mipexch]

got carried away with this doodle anyways can they have one too? please? please?please?

[starlikenex]

ive been trying to figure out my art style (i am not an artist) so here’s my shitty little attempt at bringing @tortoisebore’s Sirius to life.

insp: Hey, Sharpshooter (ch. 5, You Don’t Go to Parties)

[leadshootingcupid]

nice blog you’ve got here, mr. mundy! thought i’d draw you enjoying some coffee since you said it was your favorite, hope you like it!! ^_^

Woa!!!

That's bloody grouse, mate! Thank you so much!

I like that style ya got goin' on a lot. Thought of my scars 'n shades 'n everything. Ya even got my mug down perfectly!

'M gonna hang it up in the van if ya don't mind.

[veganbutterchicken]

monthly reread of hey sharpshooter time

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

Hot girls compulsively check ao3 every two hours to see if their fav fics have been updated

[theestarsaboveus]

anywho im currently working on a wolfstar with the classic university au but im gonna try to not make it to predictable

[moonheavens]

hmmmmm devoured the new Hey, Sharpshooter! update this morning and now catching up on Disintegration (I’m 2 chapters behind how dare I)….. what a lovely day to be a reader of Wolfstar WIPs

[tortoisebore]

and now that hey, sharpshooter is finished and published in all her glory i can finally tell you that she will be getting a part 2 ✨💕🫶💃🤩👯‍♀️‼️

it will be four chapters long, each one popping in during a moment in a summer, fall, winter, and spring in the years after we leave them in part 1. i can’t wait to share these sweet little vignettes into their lovely little lives together with you, they’re some of my favorite things i’ve ever written 🫶

i won’t be posting any of it until the whole thing is written in its entirety, so don’t expect updates about it any time soon, but i’ve had so much fun piecing it together so far and i promise it’ll be worth the wait.

more than enough (aka hey, sharpshooter part 2) coming soon(ish) 💕💕💕

if you want to get a head start, the first 1,500 or so words of chapter one are posted here! you can also check out the playlist bc it includes basically every inch of the plot ✨

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!

Man I love you too!!!!!! HAHAH DID YOUR INTERNET LAG AGAIN TICK

[imsiriuslyreading]

hiya life has been and continues to be fucking terrible HOWEVER i started Hey Sharpshooter by tortoisebore and im having the best bloody time. oh wolfstar ive MISSED U. basketball player remus is so ungodly attractive i keep staring at the wall

[arbitrarycategories]

Okay one of the best things one piece does is that whatever is fucking weird about a character has nothing to do with their power set. You would expect a woman literally named Miss Christmas to have Christmas-themed powers, right? right? right? no. fuck you.

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[aventurineswife]

can i request boothill, aventurine, and jing yuan with a jealous gender neutral reader? every time the jealousy tag is added to a fic, it’s always for the character and leaves me wondering what the opposite would be like. feel free to delete if you’ve written something like this before and thank you for your service to the hsr community 🫡

Jealousy, Jealousy

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jealousy, Emotional Conflict, Fluff with Minor Angst, Romantic Tension, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Protective Partner, Light Humor (?).

Warnings: Mild jealousy and insecurity themes, Brief mentions of violence or conflict(?), Emotional vulnerability, Slight suggestive undertones (Aventurine's part).

A/N: Totally get you because there's not many fics out there where Reader is the ONE who's jealous 🫣, I did the opposite one where the characters were jealous so this my first time writing where the Reader is jealous. Hope you love it!

The smoky haze of the cantina mingled with the scent of leather and gunpowder, a typical night for Boothill. The Galaxy Ranger leaned against the bar, his mechanical fingers tracing the rim of a half-full glass of whiskey. You stood nearby, trying to keep your composure as a stranger—a suave-looking gunslinger—sidled up to Boothill with a sly grin.

“You’ve got quite the reputation,” the stranger drawled, tipping their hat. “A sharpshooter like you must’ve broken a few hearts.”

Boothill chuckled, showing his shark-like teeth. “Nah, hearts ain’t my target. Bullets don’t play favorites.”

The stranger laughed and leaned closer, their words drowned out by the raucous music, but their intentions were crystal clear. Your chest tightened as you watched Boothill’s sharp eyes glint with amusement.

“Hey,” you interrupted, your voice steady but laced with irritation. “Boothill, aren’t you forgetting something?”

He turned to you, eyebrow raised. “What’s that, partner?”

“That I’m the only one who gets to sit that close to you.” you said firmly, crossing your arms.

Boothill’s grin widened as he pushed the stranger back with a mechanical hand. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Looks like I’m already claimed.” He stood, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to find another cowboy to sweet-talk.”

The stranger huffed and walked off, leaving you and Boothill alone. He leaned closer, his voice soft and teasing. “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, sugar.”

You jabbed a finger at his chest. “Maybe if you weren’t so charming, I wouldn’t have to be.”

Boothill laughed, his voice rich and warm. “Don’t you worry. You’re the only one who’s got a claim on this gunslinger.”

The roulette wheel spun, its clinking sound echoing through the luxurious casino. Aventurine stood at the center of attention, effortlessly charming the crowd with his flamboyant gestures and glittering smile. His eyes glinted as he placed another bet, drawing cheers from his admirers.

You stood on the sidelines, your jaw clenched as a particularly bold admirer leaned over, whispering something in his ear. Aventurine’s laughter rang out, smooth and melodious, but it only fueled the fire simmering within you.

You strode forward, catching his wrist just as he reached for another stack of chips. “Having fun?” you asked, your tone sharp enough to slice through his entourage's chatter.

Aventurine blinked, then grinned, clearly amused by your sudden intrusion. “Ah, my lucky charm,” he said, pulling you closer. “Jealous, are we?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you weren’t flirting with half the casino.” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression equal parts playful and sincere. “Now, now. You know there’s only one person I’m truly invested in.”

“Then maybe show it more often,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd still watching him with longing gazes.

Aventurine chuckled and leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If it helps, I only play games I know I’ll win. And with you, darling, the jackpot’s already mine.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Aventurine’s charm was infuriatingly effective, and he knew it.

The sun filtered through the branches of the garden, casting dappled shadows on the stone pathway. Jing Yuan reclined on a bench, his eyes half-lidded as he enjoyed the rare moment of peace. You approached quietly, only to pause as you spotted a young soldier eagerly engaging him in conversation.

“You’re so wise, General,” the soldier gushed. “It’s no wonder everyone looks up to you.”

Jing Yuan chuckled, his deep voice smooth as silk. “Wisdom comes with age, and age comes with its own set of burdens.”

The soldier blushed, clearly enamored. Your hands curled into fists as jealousy bubbled up. Jing Yuan noticed your approach, his gaze softening. “Ah, there you are,” he said, waving you over. “Come, join us.”

The soldier glanced at you but didn’t move, still lingering too close for comfort. You stepped forward, meeting Jing Yuan’s gaze with a pointed look. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” he replied, patting the bench beside him. “We were just discussing the importance of patience in leadership.”

“I see,” you said, your voice cool. “Well, I hope the lesson was enlightening.”

The soldier finally took the hint and excused themselves, leaving you and Jing Yuan alone. He tilted his head, studying you with a knowing smile. “You seemed… displeased.”

“Maybe I don’t like sharing.” you admitted, crossing your arms.

Jing Yuan reached out, taking your hand in his. “You have nothing to worry about. My heart belongs to you, and no amount of flattery will change that.”

You sighed, feeling the tension drain away as his thumb brushed against your knuckles. “You’re lucky you’re so convincing.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “And you’re lucky I find your jealousy endearing.”

[fanaticsnail]

Hair Pulling: Benn Beckman

Birthday Party Masterlist

Word Count: 2,600+

Themes: Benn Beckman x gn!reader, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, kink, hair pulling, insertion sex, oral sex, Sub!Beckman x Dom!reader. First-Mate x Barber.

Notes: It is @jintaka-hane's birthday! Happy birthday! I hope you enjoy your beautiful day, and may Beckman getting his hair pulled spark some joy and illuminate your celebration. So much love for you 🖤

Sitting at your workstation, you began rolling and folding the fresh batch of towels you purchased from the town the Red-Force was currently docked at. The fluffy material felt so foreign in your hands after using your well-worn and crusted cloths for your crew for so long. You couldn’t wait to spoil your crewmates with the new fabric, truly relishing in your job when you were not called to arms in defense of your captain, Shanks.

As the crew barber, it was your job to ensure your crewmates kept themselves as neat and tidy as they desired to be. Whether it was maintaining a goatee, some shadowing on their cheeks, a suave manicured lip and chin, or a rugged scruffiness suited to their liking: you were to keep them in perfect order. Haircuts and styling was also in your repertoire, and you wore that title well.

There was only one member of your crew that had yet to seek out your services for himself. Keeping in the quiet, shearing his own cheeks in the morning, neck and chin littered with small nicks and cuts at after a morning scrub in the bathroom, was the broody first mate.

Hunched over the itinerary captain Shanks had curated for their departure, he leaned his hips on the railing with a scowl on his lips.

Placing down the last folded towel, you withdrew your straight razor and leather hanging strop from your satchel. Checking over your blade for any notches or cracks in need of honing, you blow gently on the silver side of the knife. Holding your blade steady, you gently glide the silver along the stretch, conforming to its curvature along the surface with little resistance.

Benn Beckman was a friend to you, truly enjoying your company in the still of the night when the crew slumbered. As first mate, it was his duty to keep his captain and crew safe. He was both the first and last line of defense for the redhead, and often had little time to dilly dally with his crew. In that quiet, you would often recall small moments traveling together on the seas. Your soft laughter marrying his whispered chuckles was music to the crew, putting them at ease while they slumbered.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you were not attracted to him. Sure, your Captain and the Doctor had their charm, but Benn Beckman: first mate and dutiful death dealer was where your eyes found their perch.

Being simply friends, you assumed he would have approached you by now to do your job on his features. Just a quick tidy of his jawline, trimming his graying locks, giving him a treatment for the sea-sprayed ends - but he never did. Not once. Not a single time.

Narrowing your eyes at him and pursing your lips, you examined his recklessness littering his cheeks with drying blood and crusted sores. Almost scowling at it, you were yet to notice the approach of your crewmate taking a seat in your chair.

“Hey Barber, got a spot for me in your station?” Yasopp queries with a smile in every word, “Can I have a quick tidy up?”

“Course you can, Sharpshooter,” you laugh with him, gently brushing off your chair and reaching for one of the freshly rolled towels. “It's what I'm here for. Just a shave, or rerolling your coils?”

“Just a shave for now. The dreads can wait,” he nodded his head and eagerly plonked himself down at your station. “I've never had a shave as near as yours before. Even when it grows back, it's more manageable.”

“Thank you, Yassop. Now just shut your eyes, lay back, and let me do what I need to do on you.”

“Aye, Barber.”

Watching from his position reclining against the wooden panels, Benn Beckman’s lips drew slack. The filter end of his cigarette lay glued to his lips while they parted in awe. Each glide of the blade over Yasopp’s skin coincided with a gentle tug or maneuver of his scalp to guide him to an appropriate repositioning.

“You're doing it again, Becks.”

Shanks plopped himself alongside the railing beside the first mate, giving him a playful tap on the shoulder in the process. Beckman let's put a soft grunt and continues glaring at the scene unfolding in front of him. You were halfway through the shave now, gently holding idle chatter between yourself and Yasopp while you tidy him up.

“I'm not doin’ nothin’, Cap,” Beckman grumbles, taking a hefty drag of his cigarette. Shanks chuckles, following his eyeline and darting his gaze between Yasopp and you together.

“Why don't you just go up and take a seat,” Shanks suggested as if it was the easiest course of action to take for the big guy, “You really messed up your general scruff. Looks like you angered a pather. Go on. After Yasopp, it's your turn.”

Beckman snaps his gaze over towards Shanks at the thought, blaring into him with his darkened eyes filled with rage.

“You know damn well how I feel about my hair gettin’ touched.” Beckman warned him, his voice hardened with a mixture of warning and confession laden within, “I don't want our barber to do it for me, because I know it'll change the way they see me. Don't wanna do it to them.”

“Just focus on something else, Becks.” Shanks offered in a tone of jesting, index and middle fingers on his right hand walking up his forearm, “You know? Not like you haven't thought of ‘em tugging your hair when you're alone in your quarters.”

Beckman sends Shanks a glare that he has only ever seen a handful of times, who in turn raises his hands defensively. With a small chuckle, Shanks backs away from the broody first mate with a playful smirk.

The gray-haired first mate continues to watch you as you finish your work on Yasopp, wiping off the sharpshooter’s face with a towel. Giving him a playful trace of your fingers along his jawline, you send him from your chair and begin to sanitize it for the next use.

Looking over from your point above the deck of the red force, you could've sworn you caught the first mate’s eyes as he gazed over from his recline against the rail. His thumb met the filter end of his cigarette and pressed it in a sizzle within his iron ashtray.

“Beckman?” you gather your courage to call over to him, finally refusing to let this little dance go on any longer, “Come and see me tomorrow, you hear? Need to fix up your razor, and I've got a balm for you to use tonight.”

Benn Beckman freezes in place, a static-like shudder frizzing from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head. Without much force, he apprehensively sighs out a little, “Aye, that I will.”

Smiling to yourself, you prepare a cube of solid ointment in a tin for him, hoping the balm would aid in the healing for a closer shave, and to halt any scarring or pore blockages from occurring and getting itchy.

The following day, Benn Beckman found himself in your chair. A dark cape was casually draped around his neck, tucked in a towel and buttoned at his collar. The aroma of aftershaves and foaming cleansers lingered as you massaged his prickly scruff with your fingertips.

He could barely focus on your conversation. Whichever topic that graced past your lips was white noise to him. While he often found himself easily lost in conversation with you, he was now wholeheartedly focussed on one thing, and one thing only.

Trying not to cum.

Your hands so easily maneuver his head around, skilled fingers cleaning up his face and ridding him of his spindles protruding from his chin. In his head, it was an eternal argument as to whether he was to tell you how worked up he was, and how long he had been without coupling with a partner, or simply ignore how you made him feel while wholeheartedly enjoying the experience.

He had been to barbers before, and none of them made him feel this worked up over a simple pampering. Paired with the fact he adored you, and he was lost completely to the feeling of your fingers on his skin.

“You want a trim while I'm at it?” he hears you ask. He hadn't had the heart to decline, sparing both himself and you or his shameful joy at the touch. Instead, he closed his eyes and uttered a soft, “yes,” while his cock twitched against the crotch of his pants.

“You have such pretty hair, Becks,” you compliment him in earnest, reaching for the woven band holding his locks within, “If you don't mind me saying, of course.”

“N-Not at all,” he stuttered out, wincing as your hands dragged down the tight coil and freeing his strands from their confines. You take his small flinch as discomfort, but it could not be further from his experience.

Beckman was trying not to picture how you would look straddling his face, guiding him by those skilled hands. Tugging and pulling harshly to have him pinpoint your bliss, having him consume your ecstasy with his vigorous and unrelenting mouth while you held onto his hair.

Carding your fingers through his salted and peppery strands, you found yourself cooing at the way each fistful felt in your hands. He was so pliant, listening to your wordless directions as you angled him to find an appropriate position. Scissors handled carefully to chop at the damaged ends, you continued humming out your praise at the first mate.

His pulse quickened and breath hitched at the way your words and actions truly moved him.

Where your lips curved out: “Your hair is so volumous, I can't get over how you manage to trap it in that band,” Beckman heard, “Your hair feels perfect in my hands, let me trap you in my lap and fuck you.”

Spilling out gentle praise and manageable instructions: “Move to the side, good job. Just like that, Becks,” Beckman’s mind morphed it into, “Fuck, you’re doing such a good job for me. Keep going, good boy.”

Each roll of his neck guided by a tug to his scalp, his eyes rolled back beneath fluttering lashes. His cock continued to twitch and move against his seams at every motion, everything occuring below the belt against his will. He hated himself for reacting like this, for hearing your voice guide him and move against his skull so easily.

At one more sensual tug, his voice entangled in his jugular and caused him to shudder his jaw. You halted your actions immediately, truly believing you had caused him discomfort.

“I'm sorry. Did I hurt you, big guy?” Your concern was laden in your tone, only aiding in expanding his cock to a pulsating rod to pitch the tent in his pants.

“No, Darlin’, I'm alright,” he uttered with a breathy chuckle to follow, “Just not used to bein’ manhandled like this is all.”

“You're used to being in charge. I get it,” you chuckle down at him playfully, giving his hair a soft tug as you did with the others aboard your ship, “You're in my chair now, sweetheart. Gotta listen close to me, or I might accidentally pull on something I shouldn't.”

Both of you were surprised by the needy whine that fled from Beckman’s throat, your hands fleeing immediately from their grip on his hair and discarding your scissors in the tray beside you. You took a moment to steady yourself, your infatuation rising for him in your gut and swelling in need up to your throat. The way he moaned for you was pornographic, and your mind ran with that to a point where you personally had to halt your job to breathe through the feeling.

Beckman knows there's no disguising it now. He has a kink, and you had inadvertently made yourself subject to it by your actions. His mind was already attempting to accumulate an apology to you, thanking the stars that Shanks had conducted an away mission to enjoy a bar in town himself with the crew.

As you stepped towards him, he immediately drew his eyes to find your own. Expecting you to be peering into his soul, gaze filled with rage at the use of you pulling on his hair and fanning the flames of his lust, he saw your eyes immediately flung to his belt line.

Noticing your eyes draw down to his cock, shrouded by the dark covering laid on his lap, he was unsure as to where your mind found itself wandering.

“Benn Beckman,” you whispered softly, a softness rising in your tone. Reaching for the loose strand dangling over his eye, you tucked it behind your ear and purred at him, “You have a thing for hair-pulling, don't you?”

His apologies jumbled and merged into one large stuttery mess. His cheeks rose in hue and illuminance the longer he attempted to recover from your accusation. Each tumble and stutter he elected to present to you was met with a knowing and teasing look down your nose at him.

“Oh, Becks,” you cooed down at him, scrunching up your nose with a soft light in your eyes, “Is that why you haven't come to see me? Something as simple as a little tug on the ponytail gets you all hot and bothered?”

Beckman’s blush rose higher, his head practically seething with frustrated vapors. Just as he was about to open his mouth to growl at you for your comments, you hushed him with a few simple words.

“If you'd have told me about this earlier, we could've had some fun with it,” you shrugged, eyes immediately thereafter growing wide at your blazen disregard for indescression, “I-I mean, if you like me like that-... I mean… if you don't… I… I didn't-.”

“-Are you done with the cut?” Beckman immediately cut you off, his face no longer glaring with his uncertainty and fury.

“I… well, yes, sir,” you nodded, lips sucked into your mouth to stifle their quiver. Beckman reached up to the collar, tugging at the buttoned seam and releasing the cape from shrouding his broad body.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Just as simply as that conversation began, you found yourself with the broody first mate tangled in his sheets and crying out beneath him. Your legs were over his hips, your entrance stretched and molding to his shape the longer he split you open with his thick shaft. Slow and sultry drags of his cock within your body propelled you to a higher plane of bliss. He huffed and panted in the crease where your shoulder met your neck, whining out as you tugged on his freshly trimmed and manicured ponytail.

His hips grew staggered in their languid thrusts, feeling his enevitable release finally stampeding towards the finish line. Your own need was pooling in the pit of your stomach, swelling up and beginning to bloom in your chest. Your breaths came out in heady pants, and you reigned him towards his unravelment by pulling hard on the back of his hair.

“Cum for me, big boy,” you whisper needily, Beckman’s resolve shattering as he unleashed his pearlescent ropes of thick cum deep within you. Calls of your name on his tongue spur you into your own ecstasy, riding through the coursing waves as he buried himself down to the hilt within you.

Both you and Beckman were once again thankful that Shanks and the remainder of the Red Force crew had left you both in isolation to enjoy exploring Beckman's preference for having his hair pulled.

From then on, he was adamant on having only you shave his cheeks and trim his hair to keep him pretty. Even better were the times you did it naked, his cock nestled deep within you and being told to keep still so you don't make a mess of his handsome features with a straight razor and your scissors.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

🎶Happy birthday to me🎶.

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.