#i am NOT listing all of those bastards
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otterdotters-potsandpans · 2 years ago
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A test chapter of an au im working on- this is NOT the frostthaw au- this is the fallenhawkau
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Snowkit sat in the middle of the camp, his tail flicking as he chased clumsily after a golden butterfly, his pink-tipped white ears flicking and bouncing around as he leapt after it.
He made a sound that could have been a huff as his ears and tail drooped slightly - he had missed the butterfly and it had quickly flittered away.
His blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, he could feel vibrations in his paws as other cats milled around the camp and as the wind was brushing past his legs, the long white fur tufts bouncing and flowing in the wind at his movements as he bunched up his hind quarters, getting ready to pounce at a plant in front of him after the butterfly had escaped from his not so gentle grasp.
The plant- was it lavender?- was flowing in the wind erratically yet softly, the purple bunches bouncing energetically as if they were waving at him happily or in glee.
His soft white tail flicked as his interest was taken off of the lavender in front of him, he noticed cats quickly running into their dens or leaping under shelter, he looked at them in confusion and slight fear, as some of them looked up at the sky- eyes wide as their fur bushed up and their tails bristled.
Snowkit yelped loudly, a strangled toke to his voice, as he was yanked odd of the ground by sharp claws that dug into his soft sides, he looked down at the camp in fear as he was slowly picked up.
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Darkstripe looked up in surprise, he wasn't a good cat by any means... at least he didn't think he was, but he couldn't let a kit die, could he?
No other cat stepped forwards to attack the hawk, so he took the chance.
A black streak raced across the camp at an alarming speed, his tail flowing behind him rigidly as he leapt up into the air- his claws extended and his eyes narrowed in aggression, an angry amber glow emitting from them as he leapt across the camp.
Sharp rigid claws made contact with the hawk's brown feathered wings, some of its feathers being yanked out as he pulled it down slightly, his maw was open in a silent yowl- his sharp teeth showing off as a stark contrast against his dark smokey tabby fur.
The hawk began falling, and Darkstripe didn't let go until the hawk released the deaf white kitten.
They both began falling towards the ground, Darkstripe growled, pulling Snowkit into his thick furred chest as they hit the ground, blood dripped out of Snowkits wounds and he was shaking in fear and shock- tears in the corners of his blue eyes- Darkstripe wasn't looking much better, blood dripped from one of his eyes and trickled out of his mouth and nose, he spat some out onto the ground.
A red splatter sat in front of him, a contrast between the deep red blood and the calm green grass.
Darkstripe was breathing heavily, exhaustion suddenly taking over his features as he stayed slightly side to side as he sat on his haunches cautiously, hesitance in his movements as he tried not to fall over, his breath coming out in small sudden deep gasps.
Snowkit sat down, his eyes wide as he sat still in shock- save for the occasional shiver.
Cinderpelt hobbled over quickly, trying to assess the situation, before shouting something to Brightheart in a frantic yet professional tone, her eyes showing urgency as she ordered cats around the camp, the apprentices looking on in terror and shock until they were given tasks.
Darkstripe didn't have an apprentice, the clan didn't seem to trust him still- even after he hadn't followed Tigercl-star.
Sandstorm had sent her apprentice- Fernpaw- quickly to get some watered moss at Cinderpelts orders; Snowkit and Darkstripe were carried- or in the dark tabbies case, half dragged, half carried- to the medicine den, being settled carefully yet quickly into nests.
Darkstripe kept dozing off, aware yet unable to do anything in his state of exhaustion and pain, his vision was bleary and his hearing was foggy, a haze settles over his mind as he felt someone prodding him- trying to wake him up; before he dozed off he was fed something- some herb for any shock and pain and poultices were plastered onto his wounds.
He fell asleep finally.
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icewindandboringhorror · 7 months ago
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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:
thing that I already do
thing I have tried 10 times
thing I already do
thing that I don't have the money to do
thing I already do
thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail
thing that is impossible given my situation
thing that doesn't apply to me
thing that I already do
thing I have already tried
hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently
thing I have already done
#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things#out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever#all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever#or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple#and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already#done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and#all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3#my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster#talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo#I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache#or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop#e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all#sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef#t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of#way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I#think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i#gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant#mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain#or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right#now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like#most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once#that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY#Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth
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vampyroteuthid · 3 months ago
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REESE FUCKING ATE MY MACARONS????? ☠️
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paimonial-rage · 8 months ago
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My most interacted with fics:
Cocky Bastard Vibes (Zhongli)
Tipsy Tales (Anemo boys)
Why He Rejected You (pt 1)
Telling Them Off (Ayato, Venti, Xiao)
A Sight to Behold (Yae Miko)
Obvious (Neuvillette)
Simple (Alhaitham)
What Destiny Has Brought (Fischl)
Why He Rejected You (pt 2)
Blasphemous Assumptions (Zhongli)
#personal#cocky bastard vibes is the least surprising thing on this list. it's the fic that convinced me to turn off my notifications haha#if you're a fan of this fic tho you can expect the spiritual sequel to be getting posted as the next chapter in the bookkeeping!series#tipsy tales is also not surprising. tumblr really likes low effort posts like those#i'd really love to expand on xiao and the traveler's one someday#why he rejected you (pt 1) shocked me when i first posted it because i expected people to hate it haha#i posted it to make a point because i was feeling petty at some of the character portrayal i was seeing#another reason i was shocked is bc pt 2 has all the popular characters but did worse than pt 1#i thought itd be reversed#telling them off is really shocking tho bc other than the ayato fic the other two fics SUCK HAHA#venti's is barely anything and xiao's portrayal is SO BAD. 'secret identities' is a way better portrayal of him#a sight to behold is also shocking because the genshin fandom on tumblr only like men#this fic is my most self-indulgent of them all because i am a SIMP. i really like the sequel to this fic tho#for 'obvious' every time i read that fic i'm surprised at how decent the ending is bc i fully admit i rushed it#but it's a typical romance (atypical for me) so it's not surprising it's on here#'SIMPLE' PISSES ME OFF. THAT FIC DOES NOT DESERVE THAT MANY NOTES. made me so mad 😡#'what destiny has brought' tho... that's the most shocking. like don't get me wrong it's a good fic but.... FISCHL??????#fun fact i literally cannot stand fischl. she's so irritating. i wrote that fic bc i couldn't stand the ending to her summer fantasia event#'she truly became fischl' BUT SHE'S LITERALLY NOT FISCHL??? she's living a lie???#she pretends to be someone else because she hates herself so much. instead of encouraging her delusions shouldnt we like???#give her some self-esteem and show her amy is worthy of love?#BUT THAT'S JUST ME#anyway 'blasphemous assumptions' is not surprising. it's not my favorite but it's definitely of the funnier in the bookkeeping series#out of all these fics 'what destiny has brought' and 'obvious' are my recommendations#one day i wanna do my lowest ranking fics because those are my favorite
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checkeredflagggs · 1 month ago
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Adore, Amour, Inamorato
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!poet!reader
summary: charles’ new girlfriend receives a lot of hate for her seemingly joblessness
a/n: inamorato translates to “a man with whom you are in love or have an intimate relationship”
a/n 2: do you know how hard it is to try to be a poet when you don’t have a poetry bone in your body? Hard
a/n 3: I don’t like timelines so I don’t use them
a/n 4: if the name of the poem or author isn’t included in the photo, I have them listed out at the bottom of the post in order
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myheartispoetry
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liked by charles_leclerc, user, user, and 788,445 others
myheartispoetry: “my soul has traveled long and far to find yours” “and when you came into my life, the eternity of love begun.”
A new love has entered my life and like the rain falling from the clouds, I am washed anew. A new love, a new me, a new look for me and my page
Many thanks for all those that stuck around through the dark storms but the sun has broken through and shines again.
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user1: mother is mothering again!
user2: oh I can’t wait for more love poems again 💙💙💙
user1: i knnnnnoooooowwwww. It’s been too long since she’s been happy
user3: good riddance to that cheating bastard
user4: right! She deserves all the happiness ever
user3: definitely! How could someone hurt someone so nice and kind?
user4: brain deficiency?
user3: it could be
user5: Charles? What are you doing here?
user6: who?
user5: Charles Leclerc! He’s a race driver for Ferrari!
user6: what’s a vroom vroom guy doing in mother’s likes?
user7: that’s a very good question
twitter
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user8: another one? so fast?
user9: that was my question too
user10: ok but my man is lookin’ goooodd 🥵
user11: 🥵🤤
user12: Charles it’s getting hard to defend you…
user13: he literally posted about his breakup just 2 weeks ago
user14: uhhh why are we blaming only Charles here? I mean we know he’s fast to move on but…
user12: so true girl - it definitely takes two to tango
user15: calling it now! Golddigger!!!
user16: right??? Like god…he’s been single less than a month and someone is already trying to take advantage of him
user17: we definitely need the Twitter detectives to find out who she is…
user18: working on it!
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, yourbff, and 632,469 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: “People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.”
Thank you darling for the trip ❤️ I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you
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yourbff: enjoy it dear, you’ve definitely earned it
user16: by being a whore??
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user17: as a gold digger?
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yourusername: I will sweetie!
yourfriend: have fun! and send lots of photos!
user16: or don’t! We don’t want to see your face!
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yourusername: I will! And coffee date when I get back?
yourfriend: absolutely!
user18: found her!
user19: you didn’t really have to try…she straight up tagged him…
user18: still found her!
charles_leclerc: oh ma chérie … je n'ai jamais été aussi heureux que quand tu es à mes côtés
user20: she’s a slut — run while you still can!!
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user21: she’s a gold digger
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user22: whore!
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user23: gold digger!!
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user24: what about his family??? You’re just taking him away from them during Christmas time!!!
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user25: what a bitch, taking him away from his family
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pieregasly, maxverstappen1, and 2,590,278 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: having the absolute best time with you ma chérie — thank you for coming with me
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user26: charles charles charles…what are you doing with her…
user27: this!!! Like he ruins his entire aesthetic for…her 🤢
yourusername: oh my love there is nowhere else I’d rather be than with you, where ever that ends up being
user28: 🤢
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user29: whore!
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user30: go away! Leave him alone!
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yourbff: cheesy!
yourusername: oh you know it!
charles_leclerc: home is where you are ❤️
yourusername: oh Charlie…🥰
iamrebeccad: it was nice to see you yourusername again!
yourusername: oh absolutely! double date when we get back?
iamrebeccad: time and place babe!
user31: not you too Rebecca!
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maxverstappen1: so how many times did you face plant?
charles_leclerc: just the once!
maxverstappen1: really? 🤨
yourusername: like 10 times in an hour
maxverstappen1: that seems more like it
user32: what a bitch, making fun of charles like that
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charles_leclerc: ma chérie…
yourusername: sorry 🤷‍♀️
carlossainz55: that does seem like charles
charles_leclerc: Carlos…
myheartispoetry
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, user, and 872,399 others
myheartispoetry:
“As the dusk takes leave of the weary day,
A new dawn of hope and dreams make its way.
Yesterday's a closed chapter of our life,
Do not rewind your thoughts, it will bring strife.”
A new dawn is rising for me and with it, a night is beginning to end. My heartbreak book Will You Stay? will only be available for the next 2 weeks before it’s pulled from production forevermore.
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user33: the way I ran to your website to order this…
user34: same! Like i know I’ve never been cheated on and lied to by a guy but you never know
user35: noooooooooo 😭😭😭
user36: what??
user35: I don’t get paid till after the book is gone…
user36: well…you get to experience heartbreak in real time
user35: 😡😡💔💔
myheartispoetry: dm me lovie
user35: omg!!
user36: shut up!!
charles_leclerc: ordered!
maxverstappen1: same
user37: Ariana what are you doing here??
user38: what in the heck? Why are the vroom vroom guys doing in mother’s comments?
user39: …apparently reading her book?
maxverstappen1: it’s gonna be our book clubs book of the month
user38: WHAT DO YOU MEAN???? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??
user39: YOU GUYS CAN READ??
user40: why you gotta do them dirty like that…
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 1,934,234 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: Happy Christmas my love ❤️ thank you for including me in your family’s celebration
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yourbff: you look stunning girlie 😍
yourusername: thank yoooouuu
charles_leclerc: chérie it was a pleasure to spend the holidays with you
yourusername: ❤️🥰❤️
charles_leclerc: also maman wanted to remind you to meet her for lunch
yourusername: of course! She promised all the embarrassing stories about young charles!
charles_leclerc: chérie…
yourusername: 😘💋❤️
iamrebeccad: gorgeous girl!
yourusername: Let’s drop the men
iamrebeccad: of course! 🏃‍♀️💨
charles_leclerc: wait wait wait
carlossainz55: what?
myheartispoetry
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pieregasly, and 1,445,934 others
myheartispoetry: as winter settles around us, the days are short and grey and the nights are long and lonely…I could never find for myself the sun or the warmth to flourish during these dark months. However with you my love, I turn to the side to bask in the sun and seek your embrace to melt the frost on my soul
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user41: hey guys! I’m sleeping on the highway tonight
user42: sleepover!
user43: oh wow this post called me single and lonely in like a dozen different ways
user44: I know how you feel babe
user45: I can’t even get him to text me back and mother is writing literal poetry for the way he worships her…
user43: 😭😭
user44: I don’t know who I’m more jealous of…her or him
user45: both. Both is good
user46: oh my god yes
user47: I’m most jealous of him…to be loved by a poet
charles_leclerc: such gorgeous words
maxverstappen1: you could never
charles_leclerc: 👎🏻
user48: I’m having a thought.
user49:…are you gonna share?
user50: was it hard for you? Having one for the first time
user48: well I had a thought out paragraph with proof and time stamps but I’m not gonna share anymore thanks to user50
user51: she’s collecting f1 drivers like they’re pokemon
user52: no but you’re right. There’s been a new one in each of her newest posts
user51: dots are being drawn and connected
user48: I’m gonna dm you cause I think I know where you’re going
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, pieregasly, and 4,231,445 others
charles_leclerc: new music out now! 👍🏻
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user53: oh…
user54: he’s is LOVE love
user55: to a whore
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oscarpiastri: good stuff dad 👍🏻
charles_leclerc: thanks son 😊
user56: why are they so bland…
user57: that’s mini kimi for ya
yourusername: oh my love…
charles_leclerc: I know it doesn’t measure up to everything you’ve done but I wanted to give you a little insight to what I feel when I’m around you
yourusername: 🥰🥹❤️
user58: what a bitch can’t even be grateful for what she’s got
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maxverstappen1: I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with all of…this until the season started. Why is it on my screen
charles_leclerc: idk you tell me
user59: guys they still don’t follow each other
user60: are you telling me this drama king intentionally searched up his rivals post to make fun of him
charles_leclerc: yes he did
maxverstappen1: shut up
user61: ok but these like slap?
user62: thank god someone pointed them out. They’ve been on repeat and thank god and thank yourusername that this man is finally happy
user61: I KNOW. I don’t know how many sad tracks I had left in me…
user63: babe he still drives for Ferrari. You’re gonna have an entire season of sad tracks to choose from
user61: blocked. Reported. Why should you do this???
user62: 😂😂😂
user64: loml?? Love of my life?? And HAPPY?? Are you kidding me right now?
user65: he’s so in love with her…did you see his latest stream?
user66: when she poked her head in to let him know dinner was ready? And his face fucking lit up??
user64: 😭😭 we’ve lost him lads
user66: I’m just glad he’s happy
user65: same
Private Messages
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translations: I adore and love you with my whole heart; I love you with everything I am
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 3,597,455 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: Bahrain you were so good to my man tonight! ❤️❤️❤️ congrats Charlie💋💋
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charles_leclerc: you’re gonna have to come to every race now ma chérie. You’re clearly my good luck charm
yourusername: oh no…what an awful problem 😂😊
maxverstappen1: congrats man! That top step was well deserved
charles_leclerc: thanks max
oscarpiastri: good race dad 👍🏻
charles_leclerc: thanks son 😊
yourbff: I’m gonna need your mascara cause that shit did not run your gorgeous girl
yourusername: the real mvp tonight
charles_leclerc
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yourusername, user, and 7,823,912 others
tagged: scuderiaferrari, yourusername, carlossainz55
charles_leclerc: that’s how we do it!! A great 1-2 start to the season!! Forza Ferrari Sempre! And thank you to my love for being such an amazing good luck charm! ❤️
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carlossainz55: great race brother! Forza Ferrari Sempre!
user67: congrats!! Forza Ferrari Sempre!
user67: you did great too Carlos!!
yourusername: “And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name” congrats Charlie
charles_leclerc: well I did have to impress you
yourusername: you absolutely did!!! But tbh it was only upwards you could go after that ski trip
charles_leclerc: chérie…
yourusername: 🥰❤️
user68: Forza Ferrari Sempre❤️❤️❤️
user69: Forza Ferrari Sempre!!!
user70: charles come on. You could definitely race better if you didn’t have a slut weighing you down
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user71: ok but did you see they way he RAN to her when he saw her…
user72: I’m calling it! They’re my new IT couple. LOVE THEM
user73: she started crying like 5 laps in and girl I feel ya
user74: most relatable wag I feel
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, sebastionvettel, maxverstappen1, and 4,590,278 others
tagged: yourusername, myheartispoetry
charles_leclerc: I’ve been silent on this for far too long and will not hold my tongue anymore. I don’t know why people feel like that have the right to criticize my choices for who I date or where or with whom I spend my time with but I want you to know that my REAL fans will recognize that yourusername (or myheartispoetry for her professional handle) is by far one of the best things that have ever happened to me.
I don’t necessarily want to bite the hands that feed us but I don’t know why people feel like they are entitled to know everything about me or my girlfriend. yourusername is a private person and does not owe you anything and it is with her permission that I’m telling you that she is the author behind the myheartispoetry page and books — she is not the gold digging whore that so many of you made her out to be.
Ma chérie I am so sorry I waited for so long to address this issue and that I allowed you to face this alone. I love you. I love you. I love you. I could spend the rest of my life trying to find the words to describe the depth of love I have for you but I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to…thankfully I’m dating you and you are by far one of the best poets I’ve ever read so I’m sure you’ll be able to find those words for me
Going forwards, any harassment aimed towards yourusername will be handled with.
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Poems and quotes in order
Still, Kennedy Ryan
Ben Maxfield
Alexandra Vasiliu
Anton Chekhov
Tshering Wangchuk
Cornelia Street, Taylor Swift
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rooksunday · 4 months ago
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thinking about fox getting his first poll card after the vode get citizenship. the guard scattered after sithsplosion day, but he and a score or so that were functionally useless without each other, like nervous space greyhounds with military training, all ended up bundled together on some planet in the mid rim.
he’s been working on a book about his years at the senate. no one knows about it aside from thorn, who has been checking his basic, and advising him where he needs to wind the reveals back a little because libel. the rest of the time he does payroll for a number of small businesses, picking and choosing his hours, and delighting in sending invoices for his business: the shiny security fund, he’s called it, to continue the tradition in a more official manner.
(when they’d been on triple zero, the fund had been for rations. blankets. bacta. they’d conned credits from tourists and stolen them from senators and turned those credits into hope for the poor bastards shipped to the city that ate shinies before they could ever earn paint. these days, the fund was for whatever his guard wanted. aside from a pony. fox couldn’t figure out where hound would keep the pony.)
the book had been born from two lists. one was the blackmail and gossip the guard had collected during their stint on coruscant; that was where thorn needed to check for dangers, but since most of those senators had died in sith-related incidents, or had been jailed when the media got hold of their dealings, all fox was doing was providing context.
the other part of the book was fox’s List. thire sometimes called it a manifesto, because he had been studying for his degree and liked to show off occasionally. the list was a suggestion of changes to the republic, some small, some large. it was a silly fancy of fox’s, as the whole book was, but if he couldn’t indulge himself in his own karkin’ book then they might as well have punted him off the high levels back on coruscant.
yet for all that he’d settled—and paid taxes, even—fox hadn’t felt part of the citizenship of the planet. then the poll card had arrived. and suddenly he mattered in a tangible way. just like the bothan baker next door did. just like the twi’lek downstairs, the one with the noisy kriffin’ speeder, did.
thorn found fox in the kitchen, still staring at the scrap of card. he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.
“you okay there, chief?” he asked. he’d been trying out alternatives to ‘sir’. “noise complaint again?”
fox shook his head. he didn’t look up. “voting thing. there’s an election.”
“oh! yeah, we got ours yesterday. are you— what’s that face you’re making. i don’t think i like it.”
fox raised his head and gleamed his smile at thorn, who backed away slightly, one hand drifting to where a blaster once hung. fox’s eyes felt very wide. he jabbed the poll card like a vibroknife.
“do you know what this means?”
“democracy comes in two postal batches?”
“no! well, yes, apparently, and that’s inefficient, but— no!” fox jabbed the card again. “this means i am a citizen and i am about to make that a senator’s problem. where’s my manifes— list, thorn? it’s time for an update.”
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charliemwrites · 10 months ago
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Part 4 of Mafia!Price
No Content Warnings
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There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
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Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)
For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.
They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.
As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.
I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.
1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)
If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.
For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.
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It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.
As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.
2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)
If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.
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If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.
It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...
Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).
3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)
And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.
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Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.
While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.
4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)
You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.
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A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.
And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!
We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.
5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)
If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.
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This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.
We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!
Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.
6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)
We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.
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It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).
That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:
The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.
Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.
Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.
Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.
Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.
The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.
Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.
Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.
Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.
Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.
Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.
Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.
Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.
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sashi-ya · 24 days ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー2024> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT ⚠️
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A DIFFERENT TYPE OF FREEDOM 🍼 SHANKS X F! READER KINKTOBER DAY 18: SLAVE/MASTER
🐙 requested by: Anonymous. For ur kinktober list, Day 18: slave/master kink for Shanks if ur still taking requests? Fem reader and for kinks I guess corruption kink (inexperienced fem reader) and whatever kinks u think are right! I think shanks wouldn’t actually own slaves but the red haired pirates would probably rescue one (reader) from being sold and role playing with Shanks would be healing for her in a way? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. master! shanks, he frees reader from the CD. Slave reader. corruption kink. she is not exactly a virgin, but has little to non exp. oral. vag. 🐙 wc: 1.2k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist
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There’s always a hidden side on each and every person; charismatic, funny, laid back… even to some, a father figure.
To you, those red locks you only see at night, represent a much more different thing… freedom? Maybe… 
“Goodnight, Master” you whisper, always looking down.  “Goodnight, sweetheart. Bring me some sake, please” Shanks commands, laying down an old -pretty used- sofa. 
He is not remotely clean, nor does he plans to shower. The red-haired man only wants to lay and do nothing after a pretty long day. 
As you try to pour the alcoholic liquid on a tiny jar, he snatches the bottle from you. 
“The whole bottle might be a more accurate glass” 
You nod, watching him engulf the sake with no manners whatsoever. Shanks looks stressed, tired… something must have affected him after visiting Marie Joise.
“Do you need anything else, Sir?” you ask, fidgeting your fingers while you try to ignore how hot his masculine unmannered actions are to you. 
“You know (Name) how much you cost me?” he asks, looking at you from the side as he battles for the last drop to fall from the bottle into his tongue. 
You shake your head, yet you are sure you weren’t expensive… Tenryuubitos consider your lives as mere trinkets. 
“Well, you are lucky to be so unaware… you cost me a large amount of berries and not only that, be thankful it was me who took you from Saint Rosward…” he mutters.
A sudden feeling of guilt and devotion sprouts on your insides, causing your knees and palms to hit the ground. 
“I’m so sorry, Master Shanks! I’m grateful for life!! I don’t have wealth nor anything but my body to repay you. You can use me for anything you wish!” you scream, hitting your forehead against the wooden floor of an old, shitty cabin on Sabaody. 
Shanks stands up; those words sounded a little too much.. however, his twitching crotch stops him… “you can use my body” she said? Well… 
“I… You really want to become my slave?” Shanks asks, with a smirk that’s so dark that it is even darker than the Celestial Dragon’s.
You nod, weary. An inexperienced young woman like you still can’t see the consequences of accepting such deal… “Yes, Master Shanks. I know you will be a lot more merciful than any of those bastards” 
But are you completely sure?
“Very well, come here then… do you know how to use your mouth, (Name)?” he asks, flopping back into the couch, patting his lap right after.
“I… yes… I’m not an expert, but I’ll do my best to please you, sir” you answer, crawling on all fours towards him. 
“Don’t worry, I am in fact a lot more interested in having a sweet innocent girl all for me…” he whispers, brushing your hair back before getting his sex closer to your lips. 
You are told to stick your tongue out first, allowing drops of precum to garnish it. 
Shanks sighs loudly when you look up at him with puppy eyes and your mouth full of his arousal liquids; his toes curl… why corrupting someone who has already been corrupted in many other ways, feels -and looks- so delicious? 
It takes almost all of his Haki to stop himself not to bury his dick inside your throat almost immediately; Shanks fights the need to break you, mercilessly… however, you make it so difficult for him. 
You let your blouse of exposed shoulders to fall down your chest. Showing off turgor and anticipation, your breasts exposed, close to his sex, ready to engulf his shaft in between the two of them. 
“That’s… good, babe” Shanks grunts, pleased. His dick slides in between your tits, while he encourages you to press them around it and start moving up and down. 
He brushes your hair back, enjoying the look on your face with your tongue out. Shanks hips accompany your ups and downs, going faster and rougher. It is until he begins to spasm more frequently that he cannot control himself no more. 
Pushing you back, softly but enough to move your body, you fall down. Covering your head with your arms, you try to protect yourself as an instinctive reaction to your traumatic past. 
“No, I won’t hurt you… come here” he exclaims, with pity tinting his words but lust blurring his judgment. 
As you stand up, he turns you around and pins you against an old table. The cracking sound might tell it won’t resist much weight but none of you care. 
Shanks hand lifts the skirt of your dress, finding your non-existent panties covering your sex. He is surprised as intrigued as to why you have no underwear on… however doubts must be cleared once he is over with you… 
“Lift a leg up for me, babe” he orders. 
You comply; left leg up, knee on the side on top of the table. 
“Good girl, please keep it up as you are pretty tight still… ugh, tight and wet…” Shanks trembles, his words make you and him extra horny. 
Shanks isn’t able to take time to prepare your entrance, he just wants to fuck you; just a little bit of your honeys rubbed against his tip will be enough to slide right in. 
“Have you ever been fucked this way, (Name)? he asks in your ear, as your insides engulf his sex with tightness and eagerness. 
“N-no… master Shanks… I- have barely been touched and penetrated, let alone used in such lewd position” you purr, enjoying the manly scent of his sun kissed skin. 
“My sweet innocent slave, I’ve made such a great choice to make you mine… I’ll corrupt you until you are nothing but my perfect little fleshlight” he moans while his hips begin to ram in and out of you so hard. Slapping thighs against ass as the rhythm increases and you become more and more weak for his sex…
Your nails carve marks on that wooden table, your nape becomes sore as he keeps biting on it, sweating on it the more he fucks you… your new life has taken a very interesting turn, freedom and at what cost? 
For sure you have won; Ah, what a pleasure it is to become Akagami no Shank’s slave.
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Taglist of amazing babes: @terrabear2003 @eyes-ofhell @cokou @seoul-is-a-dream @tinydonkeysforlife @appalost @themessedupsonata @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919
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badkitty3000 · 9 months ago
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Weak
Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.
Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut
This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.
My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction
Weak:
I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.
I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.
I have failed miserably.
She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.
How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.
I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.
I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.
And, fuck, I am weak.
That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.
I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.
She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.
Weak.
Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.
All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.
Then morning comes and the spell is broken.
Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.
I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.
It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.
So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.
I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.
A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.
She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.
Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.
With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?
It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.
I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.
Fuck. I hate this guy.
In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.
If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.
My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.
Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.
I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.
Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.
That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.
And, buddy…I got bad news for you.
The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.
When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.
As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.
I take out my phone and type out a quick text.
Enjoying yourself?
I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.
Immensely, thank you
Not able to resist, I counter with:
Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert
She holds in a smile as she responds back.
Too bad you’re not going to find out
Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now
I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.
And why would I be thinking that?
Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want
I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.
Fuck you
She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.
I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.
As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.
I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.
She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.
“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.
 “Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.
“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.
I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”
There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.
“No,” she whispers.
As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.
Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.
I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”
As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.
My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.
“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.
I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.
I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.
“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.
“No!” she cries out.
“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”
Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.
“No,” she breathes out. “No.”
“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.
I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.
“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”
“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”
“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.
She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.
I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”
She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.
Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.
It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.
She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.
Fuck.
I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.
When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.
“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.
She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.
“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.
I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.
“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”
I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.
“You are, though. I mean it.”
She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.
We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.
We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.
There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.
I want to be with you.
I want to be yours.
I want you to be mine and mine alone.
I want to stay.
But I am weak, and so I don’t.
She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.
When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.
The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.
There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.
I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.
As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.
I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.
I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.
Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.
My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.
Everyone has a weakness.   
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suzukiblu · 4 days ago
Text
Day seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“. . . ‘fast’,” Kon echoes awkwardly, glancing down at their hands. Tim tries not to wince. He definitely sounds like an idiot or a prude or–whatever. Just incredibly, incredibly uncool. 
He has actually never felt less like a prude since getting to know Kon well enough to notice things like how good the bastard looks soaked in Kool-Aid, but now is just . . . really not the time for thoughts like those, yeah. 
“I, uh–I’ve never actually, um . . . with anyone, actually. Guy or not,” Tim half-admits, though it feels stupid that being a virgin is something to admit instead of just a statement of fact. Normally it wouldn’t be, is the thing, but he just really doesn’t want Kon to think he sounds lame or antisocial or . . . whatever, exactly. “I actually would literally not even know how to, uh . . . give you ‘tips’ or anything. Unless I had like, the prep time to do some research, I mean. It’s just, uh–I don't date much, to be honest. Or, uh. Pretty much at all? Like, you're definitely more experienced than I am either, uh, either way, like that's just–I don't do much of this stuff. Any of it. I have in fact gone out with exactly two girls in my life and they both were definitely, um–also the ones who were making the moves and all.” 
It's not that he never want to make a move, just usually he's too busy being way too in his own head about it or something else entirely or–
God, he is rambling so much, Tim realizes, repressing a cringe when he realizes how blankly Kon’s currently staring at him. Because it is very, very blankly, that Kon is staring at him. 
Crap. 
“Uh,” Tim says with a grimace. “Sorry. Um. If you were expecting something . . . faster, I mean.” 
Kon should definitely not have anything that fast if he’s thinking of himself as a product, Tim’s basically positive, but also that’s actually not any of his damn business, but also he definitely needs to look into Kon’s dating history just to add a few names to his list for when he finally goes supervillain and just maybe look into–
. . . Kon is still just staring blankly at him. 
Tim fails to repress the cringe this time. 
“Uh,” he attempts again. “Kon? Are you . . .?” 
Kon turns literally crimson and ducks his head, but also doesn’t actually stop staring at him. 
. . . alright then, Tim thinks. 
“I do like you. I like you a lot. Like–I like-like you a lot, if I have somehow managed to not be embarrassingly obvious about that at this point,” he tries, borderline flailing in the conversation now since Kon is apparently no longer willing to use his words and he was already not doing that great with it when Kon was using his words, and he can’t even talk with his hands or anything because he’s holding Kon’s hands like an actual grade schooler, except probably no one ever has held Kon’s hands like–no, no, he is not far enough down the supervillain pipeline to be able to finish that thought process and deal with the psychological consequences of having to not burn down the system about it, he really cannot do that at any point in the next ten to fifteen years whatsoever. “This isn't–I'm just–it's not me not wanting to . . . take some pictures, eventually. Just . . . maybe we could wait a bit on it. Stick with the streets and buildings for a little while longer, maybe?” 
He tries for a smile and also tries not to cringe again over how weak an attempt it feels like, and then has the uneasy and uncomfortable thought that actually doing anything like that isn’t even really–is that ethical, even? Even the idea of doing something like that? Kon doesn’t really know Robin all that well, no, but they’re on the same team and the same side, and they’re teammates and at least arguably friends, and Kon also doesn’t know he is Robin, and– 
“Um,” Kon says, his hands tightening just a bit around Tim’s and his face still blazingly and borderline inhumanly red as his head ducks a little lower and his mouth curves into what is, in fact, the most unfairly soft smile that Tim has ever seen on the bastard’s face. “We could do that, yeah.” 
Tim was thinking about something, probably? Which hopefully wasn’t something important, considering just how ruthlessly Kon just fried his brain out of his head. Which is not even reasonable or logical, because all Kon did was . . . well, imply he was fine taking things at Tim’s pace and not actually going to get immediately bored if he didn’t put out and was actually interested in just being together, and also did it while smiling at him like that. 
Alright, fine, Tim knows exactly why his stupid brain got itself fried. He’s still apparently embarrassingly easy, though. 
Well, that’s not exactly new information in regards to Kon anyway. 
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metalomagnetic · 2 months ago
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Any chance you can share an excerpt of the Harry/Sirius fic you have planned? 🥺
“That’s teenage years for you, kid; you’re always angry.”
Harry frowns. “You think that’s all there is to it?”
“Sure. I was that way, too.”
“Was?” Harry asks, and he’s finally smiling. A tiny thing, frail, but it’s a smile. “Seems like you’re still going through your teenage years, then.”
“Cheeky bastard.” Sirius swats him over the head, playfully.
The frail smile turns into a grin. There’s a mischievous side to Harry, buried deep under the trauma, the burden of being the Boy Who Lived.
Harry reaches for the bottle again. “Gross,” he shudders, making a face after he swallows. “Does it get better? The taste?”
“Eventually,” Sirius says, opening a second bottle, now that he relinquished the first to Harry. “You get used to it.”
He got Regulus drunk in this very room some twenty years before.
His mother sighs in his head. She sounds resigned.
“How about those?” Harry nods at the pack of cigarettes Mundungus snuggled in for Sirius. “Will you teach me?”
“Not much to teach,” Sirius says, giving Harry a fag, taking one for himself.
He lights them with his wand and tells Harry to breathe the smoke in.
Predictably, he chokes.
“Being a bad boy isn’t easy, Harry,” Sirius mocks.
“It’s disgusting,” Harry wheezes, still choking, but when he calms he tries again, to the same result.
By the time he finishes, Harry grows even paler, says he’s a bit dizzy.
How innocent he is; how young. Sirius remembers the first time he smoked, that dizziness Harry speaks of.
He was thirteen, and life was good, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he wishes he could go back to those times.
Would you abandon us again? If you could go back, would you still betray us? the voices demand.
“I’ll teach you to ride a bike,” Sirius promises. “Next summer. I’ll buy one. Miss riding, anyway.”
“Drinking, smoking, riding bikes, moping around in corners, being angry- what else is on the requirement list for being a bad boy?”
“I don’t mope around,” Sirius argues. “And never in corners. I brood in full view of everyone.”
Harry laughs. It might be the whiskey, but there’s some colour returning to his face. He almost looks alive.
He’ll die, eventually. Everyone around you dies, brother.
Regulus was always a spoilsport.
“Alright, alright. Brooding, then. What else?”
“Fucking,” Sirius says, just to embarrass him, and it works like a charm. Harry goes red, instantly. “Can’t be a bad boy if you don’t fuck around.”
Harry looks away. He runs his fingers through his hair again, making it stick out more than usual. It still doesn’t remind him of James.
When James did it, there was intention behind it. He liked his hair like that, and he knew some girls liked it, too.
When Harry does it, there’s nothing intentional about it. It screams of insecurity, something that wasn’t in James’ vocabulary.
“Well,” Harry says, so red he’s turning purple. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that, too.”
A warning rings in Sirius’ head.
Don’t poke at it, his mother advises him. Leave it be, Sirius.
Sirius never listened to her, so he won’t start now.
“You know girls that won’t mind your godfather joining you for a bit of fun?” Sirius teases. “Why, Harry, you’re already running with a bad crowd in that case.” Harry snorts, gulps more whiskey. “I barely know any girls at all,” he mumbles. “But I’m sure no girl would say no to you; it’s more likely they’ll protest to me, really.”
“First lesson,” Sirius says. “No self-depreciating jokes. No poor-me attitude. No one finds that attractive.”
“Well, that’s who I am,” Harry snaps, that temper of his rearing its head for a second.
“Even so, you hide that shit if you want to pull birds. Pretend you’re confident, even when you aren’t.”
“That’s wrong, though. Misleading someone, lying-”
“Bad boys lie all the time.”
Harry huffs. He slumps back into the couch. “Forget it. I can’t be a bad boy.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Sirius agrees. “Plus, if you want to be really bad, you’d need to do some prison time. Not worth it, I assure you.”
“Being locked up in a cupboard doesn’t count?” Harry asks. “Did about ten years of that.”
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ramblingoak · 5 months ago
Note
Am I the only one thinking about how much Copia regrets moving on stage whenever he feels his old man body hurts in protest the next day?
Definitely not, Anon! In fact you inspired me:
A Mouthful
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Papa Emeritus IV x Reader
Warnings: a bit of body worship and some suggestive teasing from Copia because he can't help himself hehe, otherwise this is just a soft moment with him, 600 words, sfw (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)
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“Right there, amore!  That’s perfetto.”
You bit your lip to hide your laugh at the overly exaggerated groan Copia let out while you kneaded the muscles in his back.  He was always a mess after performing, aches and pains quickly settling in after the adrenaline wore off.  While he often teased the audience about needing a “violent shower” nowadays he mostly just needed a long soak in a hot bath.
And you, of course.
“You’re good at this, I should keep you around.  Give you a job.”
“Oh?  And what would my title be?”
Copia turned his head to the side, his white eye catching yours.  There was still face paint caught in his wrinkles, you’d have to make sure to get that cleaned up before he fell asleep.  You raised an eyebrow when you saw the growing smirk playing at his mouth.
“Eh, non lo so.  Maybe something about the sibling in charge of rubbing down Papa?”  He grinned when you snorted, now turning his body to the side and capturing your hands.  “You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, Papa.  It’s quite the mouthful.”  The gleeful look on his face at your words had you shaking your head, trying to contain your own smile at his antics.  “Don’t you dar–”
“Well, if it’s a mouthful you want I know just the thing.”
You both erupted in giggles, Copia tugging at your hands to pull you tightly against his body.  He groaned when he turned onto his back, an arm around your waist keeping you close to his side.
“Copia, let me finish.  You’ll be too sore to move in the morning if you don’t let me finish.”
“Just un memento, amore.  A few quiet moments before you work your magic again, bene?”
“Okie dokie, Papa.”  
You smiled when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and shimmied a bit so you were more comfortable.  This was your ritual with him after his ritual on stage.  A hot bath followed by an intense massage of his back and legs.  Sometimes it led to other things but it was also nice when it just led to you both cuddling against each other.  Copia sighed then and you looked up at him, blushing at the soft smile on his face.
“I’m not sure I’ll be uh…up for anything else tonight.  Mi dispiace.”
“Copia, you never need to apologize for that.  Okay?”  He nodded and you leaned up to give him a soft kiss.  “Let’s get you rolled over again so I can finish up.”
He slowly turned over and you grabbed the cream you used on him, rubbing it between your hands until it was warm.  You took a few seconds to admire his back, your eyes tracing the freckles and the sporadic bits of hair that Copia refused to believe existed.  The blanket had drifted down to the swell of his ass and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, thinking of how good he looked in those tight pants he wore on stage. 
“Amore?”
“Oh, sorry, Papa!  I got distracted.”  
You avoided looking up from his back as you began to rub the muscles again, the bastard would just be smirking at you anyway.  As your hands drifted down his spine you let them dip lower, right below the edge of the blanket so you could press them into the flesh it was hiding.  Copia let out a very different sounding groan then and lifted his hips to encourage you to press harder.  When you obliged he dropped back down, slowly beginning to grind his hips into the bed.  
Maybe you’d get a mouthful of your Papa later after all.
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ryndicate · 1 year ago
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Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji
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“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”
warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!
event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise
notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes
By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI
Blog Rules/DNI
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Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”
“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.
“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”
“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.
Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”
“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”
You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 
One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.
Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”
Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”
“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 
“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.
“You’re disgusting!”
“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”
Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”
His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”
“This whole shit was your idea!”
“Lingerie?”
“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”
“Shut up!”
“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”
His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”
“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”
“Go find your boyfriend.”
“‘M gonna.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
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“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 
You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.
Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.
“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 
“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”
“That’s besides the point, Denji!”
“Oh fuck, you are!”
“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”
“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”
“Denji, I swear to god—”
“I’m kidding, jeez.”
“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”
“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.
“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”
“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”
“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.
“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.
“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”
“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."
A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"
"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.
You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 
“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”
“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”
“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”
“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 
“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”
Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”
Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”
His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”
Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”
“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”
“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.
You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”
“Wait, where are we going?”
“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”
“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.
“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”
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“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”
"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."
"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.
"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.
"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.
But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.
"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."
You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.
"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"
"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"
Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.
Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.
"Nevermind, we're done here."
He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.
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“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”
Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.
“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.
"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."
A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.
He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 
“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”
“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”
“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”
You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”
Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 
You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”
Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”
You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”
He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”
“Mm- maybe?”
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”
Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”
“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.
“Can I jerk you off?”
You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.
“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.
“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”
Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.
“What about what?”
“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 
“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”
Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”
You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 
“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 
“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.
A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.
“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.
“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”
“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”
“Yeah...” 
You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 
“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”
Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”
You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 
They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit
“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.
“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”
You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”
“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”
“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”
“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.
Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”
Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.
“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”
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clockwaysadmin · 1 year ago
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The Fic That I'm Not Writing Update Subscription Post
(The title is, obviously, a joke. I am writing this. Just not letting it stress me! It will get a real title when it goes up on Ao3.)
Ship: Dead on Main, Danny Fenton/Jason Todd CW: (updating as the series continues) Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Minor Injuries
Someone moved into the apartment below Jason's- an apartment that wasn't for rent. Turns out that Danny is is an absolute disaster with the self-preservation skills of a wet paper bag. He's also adorable. Jason takes it on himself to look out for Danny- both as himself and as Red Hood. What Jason could never have expected was for Danny to have plans of his own- plans that involve dating both of Jason's personas. The Goons™️think this is amazing. Good on the Boss and the Boss's boy toy for getting a twink!
All parts are being posted here on Tumblr in their first draft version. This fic is being posted out of order as inspiration strikes. There will be an update given when it goes live on Ao3.
All things related to this fic can be found in the 'the fic that I'm not writing' tag on @clockwayswrites. Major links are below.
Timeline- subject to change and my whims:
I'm (not) writing this hella out of order, as scenes and polls want to be written (the bastards)
Jason discovers Danny
Accidental Sugar Daddying Start
Shopping Montage
Something something something
A fool tries to mug Danny
Self Defense Lessons (Danny realized Jason is Red Hood)
Jason meets feral!Danny
Jason and Danny post RH meeting
The Midterm Zombie
Thirst Trap Lessons
Danny propositions Hood
Jason is Confused™️
Dick meets Danny (snippet)
Goons confront Hood
Hood tells Danny to ask Jason and then panics
Jason says yes
idk some cute relationship shit
Paulina Visits Gotham
Put a Leash on it (it being Danny)
Block Party
Jason whines to Dick
Tim meets Danny
More Bats meet Danny
(will this be the fic I'll finally need to label over T?)
you'll learn more as I don't write
maybe
if I were writing it
Narrator voice: stuff happens
Danny is not a morning person
My writing is better than this list. Of course, I'm clearly not writing this.
How to Subscribe:
Website: click on the ... in the upper right and 'Subscribe to Conversation' App: click on 'notes' in the bottom left then the bell icon in the upper right
(For those very few with ability to comment on this post, DO NOT.)
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miss-musings · 6 months ago
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Crosshair's 10 Most Impressive Shots in "Star Wars: The Bad Batch"
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We're now officially three weeks removed from the series finale, so I thought it'd be a fun time to look back at our favorite sniper and review some of his most impressive shots.
Note, I'll be ranking items from "The Bad Batch" TV show only, so there won't be any entries from "The Clone Wars" S7.
I did get a lot of input from folks here and on Twitter, and a lot of people ended up saying the same ones. I put them on here along with a few of my own.
As for how I determined the order, I judged based on a combination of: the distance of the shot, the size of the target, the speed of the target (if applicable), other external factors like light conditions and weather, and "internal" factors like Crosshair's physical and mental state.
You're free to disagree with which ones I picked and how I ordered them. It's all subjective.
Also, I don't proclaim to be an expert in marksmanship nor am I a military sniper. But, I do have a general baseline for how difficult Crosshair's shots would be IRL. I used to go shooting with my dad a lot at both indoor and outdoor ranges, and I was pretty decent at both pistol- and rifle-shooting. So, that's what I'm using to judge Crosshair's shots.
With that out of the way, let's dive in with #10:
10. Killing Lt. Nolan in 2.12 "The Outpost"
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I probably wouldn't have put this one on the list for myself, but I had multiple people suggest it should make the cut.
While this shot is very important narratively, it's not very impressive from a purely technical perspective.
I mean, hitting a relatively stationary human-sized target from a few meters away... It's definitely not the most impressive shot on Crosshair's resume.
However, I did feel it was worth adding to the list for the simple fact that Crosshair is physically exhausted and mentally broken in this scene. He basically uses the last of his strength to kill Lt. Nolan, because he immediately collapses right afterward.
Also, Crosshair might be right-handed, but he's pretty good at shooting his pistol leftie. We don't really see the shot hit Nolan, but if you zoom in after his body hits the ground, you can see that Crosshair shot him straight through the heart. He wasn't leaving that bastard alive after everything he and Mayday went through.
9. Lunch tray ricochet in 1.01 "Aftermath"
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Even though this isn't a shot in the traditional sense -- considering there aren't any firearms involved -- I had to put this on the list for two reasons.
One, I had multiple people suggest it; and two, because I've watched this scene dozens of times and only recently found out that Crosshair actually hits two clones with his lunch tray.
He initially throws it at the clone Tech was fighting, presumably knocking him down. But then it ricochets so hard that it basically clotheslines another clone who's just standing there, minding his own business. Dude was hit so hard, he was like floating in midair for a split second.
Also, this plays into my headcanon that Crosshair would be excellent at any sports that require excellent aim and coordination. If he was on a basketball team, he'd be a three-point specialist for sure!!
8. Plan 55 ricochet in 3.12 "Juggernaut"
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This is the closest thing we get to a trickshot in S3, so I had to include it on the list.
Here, we see Crosshair's quick-thinking and perfect aim take out several troopers at once by purposely ricocheting his shot off the magnetically sealed doors.
As we know from “A New Hope,” magnetically sealed doors/surfaces are no joke. You really have to know what you're doing or someone's gonna get hurt. Thankfully, Crosshair is a freakin' pro at this!
It honestly reminds me of all those crazy pool shots where you have to plan out four or five bounces/angles ahead to get the angle you really want.
7. Downing a spaceship on Ryloth in 1.11 "Devil's Deal"
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NOTE: This is the only clip I couldn't readily find on YT. So I included the clip of Crosshair killing Orn Free Taa from the same episode to maintain symmetry in this Top 10 list.
Don't let the clip fool you. The shot I'm actually talking about takes place before this, when Crosshair -- from like 300 meters away, mind you -- takes down a fast-moving ship by shooting one of the engines.
Look, I love S3 Crosshair with all my heart, but his shooting abilities were severely diminished after his time on Tantiss. When I was doing my S1 rewatch and got to this scene in 1.11, I was like "Oh yeah, I forgot Crosshair used to be able pull off crazy shit like this."
It's actually sad how many of his made shots in 1.11 are like an inverse of his missed shots in 3.11. Here, Crosshair easily shoots a tracker onto Hera & company's ship, and later shoots the engine with no problem, despite the speed and distance.
In 3.11, though, he misses CX-2's ship and fails to track Omega back to Tantiss. 😭
6. Shooting Wrecker's knife in 1.01 "Aftermath"
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Now we're getting into the really impressive shit! Most of these remaining entries have Crosshair shooting small targets and/or fast-moving ones.
In this instance, it's both. Wrecker throws the knife like this is skeet-shooting or something, and Crosshair just very casually shoots it into a droid.
Have you ever seen someone who was so good at their job/hobby that they make it look effortless? Like they're not even trying? This happens to me sometimes when I watch the Olympics. I'm like, "That's not so hard. I could probably do that." And then I try it for like half a second, and I'm like, "Oh no, those people are insane."
That's how good S1-2 Crosshair is. He makes shooting a fast-moving knife look effortless.
5. His four-kill trickshot in 1.15 "Return to Kamino"
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These next three are all no-brainer entries. I think the biggest question will be why I went with the order I did.
Here, we have Crosshair displaying two very important elements of marksmanship/sniping: patience and careful aim.
Crosshair evidently set up at least four mirrors (I counted the ricochets in the shot) well in advance in the exact spots he needed to take down his Imperial squad, if need be. That's some serious foresight and preparation -- to know exactly where everyone would be standing, and have all the mirrors ready to go ahead of time.
He must've set them up even before he brought Hunter into the training room, or Hunter would've seen them and probably signaled his teammates.
He's also hitting a target that seems to be somewhere between the size of a golf ball and baseball from like 10-20 meters. And with his sidearm.
I know everyone loves the hallway mirror ricochet to kill the squadron of battle droids in TCW Season 7, but it didn't qualify. But, honestly, I think this one is more impressive anyway. He hit the first 1.15 mirror from farther away than he does in TCW S7, and he's using his pistol in 1.15 rather than his rifle and scope.
Talk about accuracy!
4. Sniping the tank in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"
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Oh man! I think we all love this one, right? It's just one of my favorite sequences in the entire show -- the framing, the colors, the effects of the dirt flying up behind him.
I love how Crosshair baits the droids to get the exact angle he needs, and the dude clearly has nerves of steel for staring down the barrel of a tank without flinching. I wonder how many times he's done it, considering he seemed to know exactly how to beat them. I'm guessing at least a dozen.
This is another example of "expert making their expertise look effortless," when in reality, we'd all shit ourselves if we attempted to do the same.
Honestly, sometimes I wish we could've had this version of Crosshair face off against Hemlock in 3.15 -- the dude who stared down the barrel of a tank and didn't flinch at the most literal version of "kill or be killed."
3. Stairwell trickshot in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"
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While I love the tank sequence more for the aesthetics, I have to rank the 2.03 stairwell trickshot above it.
That's partly because Crosshair's still physically and mentally recovering from nearly getting choked to death. But, it's also partly because -- just like with Wrecker's knife -- Crosshair is shooting a target that someone else is throwing.
That means he has to adjust to whatever trajectory and speed they throw it at and compensate accordingly, which can understandably be very hard to do in a split-second.
And, in this situation, Crosshair can't even see the puck directly. He's looking at it through at least one or two layers of reflective mirrors. Dude's reaction time is insane!
He also manages to take down at least four or five droids with a single shot, including the tactical droid, which is several meters up the stairwell and into the next room.
I'm not sure if the clones learned any advanced mathematics during their training on Kamino. But if they did, I think Crosshair would've loved geometry and maybe trigonometry too! He would also absolutely kill in a game of pool. I wanna see him go to the SW equivalent of a pool hall, and show Omega that he can hustle people too! He just needed to find a game that would better suit his strengths. LOL
Anyway, as insane as this shot is, Crosshair has two others on his resume that are even more impressive:
2. Saving Omega & AZI in 1.16 "Kamino Lost"
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This is one of three entries on this list that *no one* mentioned when I asked for suggestions, but I had to include it. That's because it is -- without a doubt -- the most bafflingly impressive shot Crosshair makes in the entire show.
I have watched this scene dozens of times, and I still have no idea how he knows where Omega and AZI are.
Initially, I thought -- as others did -- that he's using an infrared scope to see their body heat in the water. But, that doesn't appear to be the case.
The only times I can recall Crosshair activating an infrared capability is when he has his rangefinder, which is attached to his helmet. As we see in episodes like 1.01 "Aftermath" and in 3.07 "Extraction," he specifically has to put the rangefinder down in front of his eye to use the infrared option.
No, his scope is just that -- a regular scope. The infrared capability is only attached to his helmet's rangefinder, which he doesn't have in this scene.
Thus, I have no idea how Crosshair is using a regular-ass scope to find Omega and AZI in the dark ocean. The point of a scope is to see better, and I don't know what he might see beside more darkness. AZI's eyes aren't active and, even if Crosshair spots Omega's flashlight, Omega dropped it when she went after AZI, so it's not exactly on her.
I'm willing to believe that Crosshair has better eyesight than the average human in the Star Wars universe or IRL, but his eyesight must be insane if he can see them in the water, even with a scope.
But, whether it's eyesight, some other enhanced sense or just plain luck, Crosshair knows where in the vast, dark ocean they are — not just the angle but the depth too!
It's really hard to tell how far down they are, but I'd say at least 20 meters. And if he is able to see them somehow, he might have to adjust the shot for refraction in the water too.
Plus, unlike the other entries on this list, Crosshair isn't shooting a blaster bolt. He's shooting a cable, meaning he'd have to adjust his shot to accommodate its weight and trajectory once it hits the water. Additionally, with how Omega and AZI are situated, he needs to have the cable hit and latch onto AZI, without hitting Omega in the process, and get the exact angle needed to drag both of them to the surface.
Like I said: I have absolutely no idea how he made this shot. It's definitely the most impressive one he makes in the entire show based solely on external technical factors.
But of course, there is a parallel shot later in the series that's his most impressive one of all...
1. Freeing Omega in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"
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I will never shut up about this scene. It's been living in my head rent-free for three weeks already, and will continue to for several months.
This is undoubtedly the most important shot in Crosshair's life: the shot to save his kid and free his family from Hemlock once and for all.
And everything is working against him: It's dark. It's raining. Omega and Hemlock are like ~40 meters away. The target is the binders between their hands, which is like 3-5 centimeters wide, and won't exactly be stationary. Oh, he's using CX-2's stolen blaster, which doesn't even have a scope on it!!!
We the audience get a POV of what Crosshair sees from over his shoulder, and I can barely see Omega's face, let alone her hands!! I said in the previous entry that Crosshair's eyesight has to be better than the average person's because, holy hell, how can he see that?!?
And, even worse, Crosshair is physically and mentally spent in this scene. He had to return to his own personal hell -- the place where he was tortured and traumatized for months -- then got beaten in a fight and had his dominant hand chopped off.
He and Hunter are running on pure adrenaline at this point. They are absolutely hellbent on getting their kid back, even if they die or collapse in the process. They were practically hobbling out of the CX lab together, and when they crouch down on the bridge, Crosshair has to steady himself against Hunter because he doesn't have his other hand.
And, as the final cherry on top of this proverbially shitty sundae, Crosshair absolutely terrified of missing.
A few episodes ago, the guy couldn't hit stationary fruit from like ~15 meters away with a scope in daylight and in a controlled environment. He even tells Omega: "Close doesn't count. It's either a hit or a miss." Because in a high-stakes situation like this, missing your shot could mean death for you or someone else.
Crosshair already feels like he failed Omega because he missed the shot on Pabu. And now, he has to make an even tougher one with every disadvantage stacked against him and her life literally in his hand.
I don't blame the guy for doubting himself.
Thankfully, Hunter and Omega have complete faith in him, and despite everything he's been through in S3, he has faith in himself.
And so, in the shot to end all shots in "The Bad Batch," Crosshair hits his target and frees Omega.
He and Hunter then subsequently turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese before Omega gives Crosshair a much-needed hug, causing me to cry for the 100th time.
I'll admit: as much as I would've loved seeing another mirror trickshot or some other crazy ricochet in the finale (or just S3 in general), this scene is basically perfect.
It also makes for a nice little parallel to the S1 finale, where Crosshair saved Omega's life after she saved his. Here, as he says himself, he goes back to Tantiss to free her because she freed him first.
As someone said on Twitter when I asked for ideas about this list:
"(Crosshair) put his whole heart and soul in this shot, and he didn't miss. He couldn't afford to."
Like I said: this was the shot that freed the entire Bad Batch family from Hemlock forever. So, I think by default, it had to be No. 1 on this list.
*******
Anyway, thanks for reading! It'd be fun to put together another TBB list like this. I guess I'll have to pick a subject first, though, because I don't have any ideas. If you have any, send them my way!
(EDIT: For anyone who’s also on Twitter, give me a follow. @CatchingClassic )
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