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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 7 months

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I love your Danny Ric “what a shame”! Could you possibly do it from Danny’s pov? It’s ok if not

It Is A Shame - Daniel Ricciardo

<word count - 1752> |part 1 - what a shame|

He knocked on the door, knowing he'd be the only visitor that you actually wanted to see. Of course, he had texted you in advance, so that you knew of his arrival. He was never one to show up unannounced.

You had kept up your end of the deal, so it was only fair. Sometimes, he wished he could just randomly arrive at your place. He lived for the thrill, and there was something nearly exhibitionist about the idea of turning up out of the blue.

The adrenaline surge wouldn't last long if his whole life blew up because the wrong person saw, though.

The sight of you as he opened the door was enough for him to forget the rest of the world and take one, large stride into your room. There were times when he wanted to flaunt you around, show you off to the world, but that simply wasn't the world you were living in.

"Look, I don't have much time, but I needed to come. I needed you," he said, approaching you as you closed the door. His eyes wandered up and down your body, meaning every word of what he said.

"Well, my door is always open for you, Daniel," you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck as he immediately attached his lips to yours. Not breaking the kiss, he walked you backwards until your back hit the wall with a hard thud, your entire body jolting at the impact.

"Shit, sorry, you OK?" He asked, pulling back from you as his brown eyes scanned your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. He knew you could take it a little rougher, but that didn't mean he wanted to hurt you.

Yes, the majority of the times you saw each other, it was for a specific reason, but that also didn't mean he didn't care about you as a person.

"Yeah, don't worry. It's OK to be rough, you know I'm a little tougher than your other girlfriends," you told him, tugging him closer to you for another kiss.

"You sure?" he asked, wanting full confirmation.

"I can handle this stuff," you grinned, and he could feel your warm breath on his face. If he could pause time, with you in his arms, he would. He'd stop the world from spinning, just so he could be trapped here with you, forever.

He trusted you with what you said, and didn't waste another second of the precious time he was able to spend with you. Capturing your lips with his, he pinned you against the wall. Now that he had you, he needed you.

As he kissed you, he felt his mind go into a trance. He felt like you were a witch, trapping him in a spell. You had this certain, bewitching quality that he couldn't quite find the word for. And he adored it.

He thought it was because you made him feel young again, you made him feel free. It was like you unlocked the shackles that he felt tied down by, and he could let loose and live. He was able to unleash his wild side, and have some fun in life. You were the thing he needed to relive the old times, to be Daniel again.

But the worst part about you, the part that he ignored to the best of his ability, was that you had met too late. His girlfriend was already known by the world, and it'd be a messy breakup, no matter how it happened.

You were new to the team, but he wished you had come in a little earlier. It would make him look bad, but also you. People would think you were only in it for getting higher up in the team, and he wasn't going to allow that to happen to you. Not over his dead body.

There were times that he hated himself for allowing all of this to happen. He shouldn't have allowed his... lust to get the better of him. But, there was no way to deter him from you. You were like his own personal form of kryptonite, you made him weak in the knees.

His hands roamed all around your figure, before travelling underneath the hem of your shirt. He tugged it off and discarded it, the papaya fabric sent fluttering to the floor. "God, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you all day? It's like torture for me," he breathed against your lips.

"Seeing you in my colours all day, every day, it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy, baby," he mumbled, letting you pull his sweatshirt over his head and sending it along with your shirt. His words dripped with sincerity as he spoke, wanting you to know that he meant all of it.

You trailed your hands across the skin of his chest, slithering your fingernails down his abs. Your nails tickled his tanned skin, and he couldn't help but let a smile dance on his lips as he kissed you.

"You think it's easy for me to see you with that race suit of yours rolled down to your waist? Watching you is agonizing," you groaned, glad to finally have him. It was nice for him to know how you felt about him, seeing him around every day.

"Well, I'm all yours for now," he told you, picking you up with your legs locking comfortably around Daniel's waist. He carried you over to the bed, before dropping you down onto it. He crawled over you, his hands holding himself up at either side of your head.

As he leant down to kiss you, a loud beep blared out around the room. Daniel groaned and rolled his eyes, scurrying to turn it off. He searched through his sweatshirt, producing the beeping phone out of his pocket.

He scoffed as he saw who it was, placing an index finger to his lips as he picked the phone up. He was nothing short of furious, and he knew exactly how this was going to end, and neither of you got what you wanted out of it.

"Hey, babe," he said with feigned happiness, truly not wanting to talk to her right now. You were in bed, ready and waiting for him, as needy for him as he was for you, and he was being interrupted. "I'm-" he started, but he was cut off before he could get another word out.

"I said-," he said, before getting cut off again. "I'm on my way, OK?" he confirmed, putting the phone down with a huff. He clumsily pulled his sweatshirt back over his head and put his phone in his pocket. "I'm really sorry, I've got to go, but I promise to make it up to you," he apologised, rushing over to you.

He kissed you again, savouring every second and tattooing the taste of you onto his tongue. The sweet vanilla of your lipgloss lingered in his mouth, and it drove him crazy. It was better than any dessert he could buy in an patisserie.

"Don't worry about it," you smiled, but the look on your face killed him inside. He knew that look, since you'd had the conversation about what it meant before. You were disappointed, and he thought you had every right to be.

He had come to you, and now he was leaving without either of you having your way. The two of you didn't even need to do anything more than just lay in bed and cuddle, and that'd be more than enough for him. Holding you was enough.

He didn't want you to be the second choice, the one left behind at the end of the day. The one who slept alone at night, the one who woke up in an empty bed in the morning. He wanted you to be the last one he saw before he went to sleep and the first one he saw when he woke up.

"I mean it, Y/N, I'm really sorry," he repeated, not wanting to leave you here. He wanted you so badly, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to quickly fuck you against the wall before he left, just so he could give you something.

If he couldn't give you his time, at least he could give you some sort of pleasure. "I'll see you tomorrow, Daniel," you said, gazing at him, taking in his every feature like you were never going to see him again.

"I'll see you tomorrow, honey. Again, I'm really sorry," he said, standing in the doorway.

As he dashed out the door, you muttered a small, "Yeah, me too," and the door closed behind him. He had heard what you said, and the guilt he felt was incomparable to anything else he had felt.

Even just having a nickname used only for you felt like he was stringing you along. He knew that every one of your meetings, secret texts or inconspicuous exchange of glances from across the room just hurt you even more.

He knew because it hurt him too. And after all that, all he could give you was a nickname of the sweet substance that bees made. Wouldn't Sebastian be proud? The more he thought about it, the more ironic it felt.

You were the sweet nectar that kept him going, kept his world turning, kept his flowers blooming. But, you were also the bitter sting that left him red raw and itching uncomfortably for a long while after.

Daniel was laughing and talking with her, just like he was supposed to. He played the role of the doting boyfriend who loved her more than anything else in the world, but it wasn't the case. He had seen you come in, and he spotted you out of the corner of his eye as you lurked in the corner.

Your eyes darted around, and he could tell you were trying to distract yourself. He could see the sadness in them. He knew his miniscule, split second glances towards you went unnoticed, but there was nothing he could do.

If he could, he'd treat you as if you were the only person in the room, as if nobody else existed. You made the blood rush around his body so fast that the friction caused a spark that he hadn't felt in years.

He knew what you were wanting from him, and he remembered that you had denied his thoughts. Deep down inside, he knew you wanted the girlfriend treatment, which was fair. You wanted his undivided attention, not the twelve or something percent that he gave you.

He knew how your mind worked. Even from that momentary flick of the eyes that he gave you, he could read you like a book. There were a thousand things running through your mind, and not a single one of them was as innocent as you looked.

You wanted the girlfriend treatment in every conceivable way. He'd use your shoulders as a coat rack, and make sure you were taken care of completely. He wanted to show you how much he adored you without the need for a secret, intimate setting.

Maybe he could even take you home, and kiss you slowly, lovingly, tenderly. With every ounce of love that he held in his perfect body. It was like you was stuck on his mind with superglue, and there was no way of yanking you off.

The shift in you was obvious.

It turned from those eyes filled with remorse to something else. Something darker. You weren't looking at her though, you were looking at him. He felt spite towards himself too. He was living the perfect life.

He was getting the best of both worlds: a girlfriend to keep his domestic life chugging along like an old steam train, and a girl on the side to make pure euphoria surge through his veins. It wasn't fair to either of you, and someone would be in immense pain at the end of it all.

He felt the intense burn of your eyes shift off him, and to someone else. Now it was her turn for your mental tear down of her. You were so good to him, and you had to spend your days loathing someone else. She didn't do the job, so you were there. There to make the pain go away, to give the old dog some life again.

You were addictive to him - like straight cocaine off a club table, mixed with the sordid flush of alcohol.

The taste of vanilla clouded his lips, and he always had to cover up the scent of you after you'd been together. You were like the eye of the storm, the calm before the chaos. Being with you was like drowning in the swell of a stormy sea, the moments he stole with you better than the brief gasps of air he clawed to take.

As she giggled at something he had mindlessly said, she draped his body of him. But he preferred the feeling of your skin on his. As she tried to breathe, his mind was cast back to certain other times that you had had. A very different situation.

He couldn't help but think what a shame it would have been if he just stood from the table and left her there. What a shame it would be if he came and pinned you against the wall. What a shame it would be if he ran his hands through your hair, tugging harder as they caught on the knots, just like he had done before.

What a shame it would be if he kissed you as if there were no one else around, do whatever the hell he wanted to you because he could, and nobody would be able to say a goddamn thing about it. What a shame it would be if he never had to stop again, because you'd be his, and there would be no one to stop him. No one to get in the way.

What a shame it would be if he left her now.

A/N - Writing Valentines specials at the minute, so hopefully you'll enjoy those. I get that this isn't really from his POV, but it's more about his feelings than yours.

Also, requests are still open for the 1000 followers thank you. You can comment them on this post, my poll post, or just drop them in my inbox! I'll do them all at some point, but I'll select one for the thank you. Enjoy, and I love y'all 💖

|masterlist|five seconds flat|

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

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Roll of the Dice // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: ‘Echoes’

Summary: When Rooster makes a snarky remark that should have never left his mouth—everyone who knew, for a brief moment in time, Is brought back to the moment where Jake Seresin lost his one and only wingwoman.

Warnings: Angst! Graphic Mentions of injuries sustained from a fighter jet accident. Loss of life, reader x Jake Seresin WHUMP!

Word Count: 3.8k

Author Note: Damn, I dunno where all this shit is coming from but these ones shots & little two parters are clogging my brain so I thought it best to get them on paper once and for all.

Series Masterlist

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Bradley Bradshaw had a few regrets he’d managed to tally up in his thirty eight years on earth—but letting such a harsh truth slip past his slightly chapped lips when he knew the seriousness of the situation playing out before him wasn’t all that deep, was definitely on top of his list.

“Oof“ Jake could hear Fanboy chuckle from behind him as he leaned over to take his shot at pool. For a moment those around him wondered if he’d falter, slip and miss under the weight of Roosters insult. But Jake never faltered in front of his peers in such a public manner. No—he simply took a deep breath and sunk his shot.

Fanboy hadn’t known of Jake before stepping foot into the Hard Deck fifteen or so minutes ago, nor did he know how serious Bradley Bradshaw's accusation had truly been. How hard it hit on a personal level. Bob Floyd, the one who should have been a stealth pilot in Jakes eyes, stood smirking beside his new colleague. The two Weapons Systems Officers instantly bonding over their respective roles—Coyote and Phoenix though? they knew. They knew just how deep Roosters jab had truly cut and the fact he could never take it back would follow the moustache wearing aviator to his own grave.

Rooster expected Jake to turn to stone at the venom he spat, if anything at the very least Rooster wouldn't have been surprised if Jake Seresin fell to his knees like the night he did when he’d heard the news you hadn’t made it through the night. But to much surprise his dog shot insult had washed over the cocky superficial as all hell aviator like water rolling off a duck's back. Remaining unphased and staying poised, Jake stood with a smug smile. He took calculated strides towards Bradley as he pulled his lips into a cruel smirk. Sitting on the edge of the pool table with his chest puffed and his blood boiling.

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel—“. Jake wore an egomaniacal bravado incredibly well–but Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote all knew he hadn’t always been this way. “But that’s just you, ain’t it Rooster.” He just hadn’t been the same since he lost you. “You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment—” Rooster knew deep down that Jake wasn't talking to him right now. He knew that the man who stood before him with his shoulder squared and his thousand-watt smirk was channeling some deeper repressed emotion he never got to properly work through. Turning into a version of himself he didn't know as a coping mechanism, loss, grief, heartache consuming him fully—turning him into someone completely different to the man you knew him to be. The man he was. The man he wanted to be beside you every day and every night. But that didn’t matter because you weren’t around to see how far he’d fallen into the character he developed to protect himself from the world that was so fucking cruel. It took no prisoners, it played no favorites. “That never comes.”

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. It burned his skin, the all too familiar sensation like jet fuel landing on exposed flesh. Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Drowning out his surroundings Jake couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. He carried on his night in autopilot as the former and less heartbroken version of himself screamed and clawed and tried to beat against his chest over his heart to no avail. Jake wasn’t letting him out—no. He couldn’t, not when you weren’t here. No one left on earth was worthy of who he truly could be. When you left? Jake swore you took everything with you, all the good he could and wanted to be. Without you? His better half, his soulmate, his best friend, he was simply Hangman.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Rooster's voice echoed like a poorly educated Orchestra, everything and everyone around him felt like the hands of time had slowed them down so he could revel in every passing second. A longer eternity away from your warm embrace. The one he’d worked so hard to earn. The love he lost. That his body ached for since you left.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Jake brought a round of beers blindly, going through the motions, he razed Phoenix up a little more about her being here, he beat Coyote in three games of pool and thought it was ridiculous just how many people turned their attention to Rooster when he played Great Balls Of Fire. He hated the fact he knew you’d be the one sitting next to him—singing your heart out because you knew how to party and party hard.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. He helped Coyote throw some guy from the bar—said a witty little remark before saluting and slamming the door. Jake knew you’d kick his ass for it if you had seen him act so differently to the Jake Seresin you knew. But with every slow, overwhelming moment Jake couldn’t shake the comment Rooster had made. Couldn’t rid you from his mind although he tried so hard to keep you locked in a box deep inside his cerebellum.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

When Jake Seresin finished his night at the Hard Deck, he went back to his dorm, locked his door—and stood in complete silence. Stood in the dark of his empty dorm and sighed heavily as the weight of what felt like the entire world crushed his chest.

When he couldn’t breathe he knew it was serious. Dropping to his knees with a sob that would have broken your heart he clutched at his chest and tried to steady himself. A panic attack surging through his veins like a rush of adrenaline his body rejected. The endorphins backfiring, sending his body into overdrive because he couldn’t stop hearing your fucking laugh in his goddamn head. Like a permanent reminder that you were gone but not forgotten. Too far away to talk to, to touch, to see, but never far enough away to not hear. It was cruel. It was a sick joke.

“AAAHHHHH!!” At the top of his lungs like the world wasn’t at a standstill at two in the morning, Jake shouted to the heavens above until his face was bright red, till his eyes stung, till the vein in his neck popped and there was nothing left inside him till the deafening silence once again consumed him.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. He didn’t know how long he had been on the floor of his dorm for either—time must have resolved itself at some point. Suddenly not so slow motion.

“Ay yo—Jake man you good?” Banging his first against Jake's door, Javy frowned his brows with concern after the agony ridden scream coming from his wingman’s dorm ripped through the first floor dorms. Rooster had stood in his doorway watching, but too stubborn to move. He hated himself enough for what he had said—he didn’t need a black eye to remind himself he crossed a line. He knew if there was such a thing as life after death you’d be watching over him with a frown so prominent it would haunt his nightmares. His dad would have smacked him upside the head by now for causing someone this much distress.

“Hangman?” Knocking again only to be met with silence and a locked door, Javy slid down the door, his back pressed against the heavy wood as he took a stab in the dark as to what this was about. “There was nothing on this earth you could have done differently Bro.” He sighed, his head hanging low. “But Dice? She’s gone, she’s been gone for almost six months man.”

Javy would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you every single day. He also knew that with some twisted turn of fate, if you’d never been taken so soon he never would have had the privilege to fly in your honor every day beside Jake. But something he also knew was that dwelling on the past held back whatever bright future was ahead. “Jake I know you’re listening man, so imma say it one more time—.”

Jake couldn’t hear what Javy ended up saying, it was probably something like he couldn’t change the past or that you’d want him to get off the ground out of the heap he’d collapse into. Or something along the lines of there was nothing Jake could have done to protect you or prevent your untimely demise. He didn’t hear anything of it, because all that rang out through his head like an obnoxiously loud gong was:

Hangman, the only place you ever led her was an early grave.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

(North Island — United States Navy Fighter Weapons School, October 16th 2014)

“DIXON!!” Admiral Paynes voice bellowed through the locker room with enough grunt behind it that it had you jumping out of your skin before slamming your hand in the door jam of your locker. Muffling a cry in pain as you held your hand to your chest as it throbbed, turning on your heels to stand to attention, hiding all the fear you felt coursing through your body as the older more authoritarian admiral approached you. His nostrils flaring like saucepans as he held out a deflated whoopee cushion. “You think this is some kind of game?”

“No sir, not at all sir–” You tried your best to look him directly in the eye as you lied through your teeth. Of course it was a game, it was actually a childs gag toy if anything–but you weren’t about to get into an argument with Admiral Nathan ‘Agony’ Payne. “Why are you showing me a whoopee cushion, sir?”

“Someone put it on my chair thismorning–” Fuck. “I thought I’d give you the chance to perhaps enlightening me as to who that might of been before I ask the admin assistance to run the security footage.” You knew you’d been caught red handed. Agony knew no one else would be stupid enough, or ballsy enough for that matter, to pull a stunt like this. However! It was in your DNA. He knew immediately that you had been the culprit of such a crime. Like father, like daughter.

“Dad says Hi.” Was all you muttered out before you dropped your gaze, fuck– as if you wouldn’t think about the security cameras. “He told me to tell you that he’s really pissed you keep flying Jet Blue when he knows you know he flys American Airlines–” There was no response as you dropped your gaze once again to your feet. “Sorry Sir, it won’t happen again sir.” Your father and Admiral Payne had been friends for a few decades, remaining the same even though your dad decided that flying commercially sparked his interest now more than for the Navy. It probably wasn't your finest moment to allow your father to use you as a conduit to get a rise out of his old buddy.

Bradley Bradshaw sat zipping up his flight suit on the bench behind where Admiral Payne had been scolding you. He got an undisturbed front row seat to the seven colours of bad shit you’d gone while taking an absolute scolding from your superior. Chucking softly as he caught your attention for just a few seconds.

“How the fuck did you end up here?” Agony scoffed as he let the whoopee cushion drop into your hand. You’d somehow by the skin of your fucking kneecaps, slid your way into the latest class of TopGun. You still weren't too sure how you got here or what the Navy saw in you–but nevertheless, you were here. “Pull a stunt like this again and I won’t be so inclined to keep you around long enough so you can show me what you're capable of, do I make myself clear?”

“In abundance sir.” You confirmed what he needed to hear in order to let you live, keep the skin on your body. “It won't happen again, sir.” Without so much as a word after, Agony turned with an expression that rivalled one of Jack Nicholson's own. Leaving you to breathe again, since when had you been holding your breath though?

“You fucking idiot–” Bradley cried out in hesterrics as you threw the deflated woopee his way, laughing along with him as you slide down the lockers into a heap on the floor. “As if you’d do that! That Admiral Agony Y/n! You can’t do that type of shit and expect to get away with it, even if dear old pops put you up to it.” Although you had your mothers maiden name and had lived with her for most of your life, you were still Ron ‘Slider’ Kerners flesh and blood. His daughter through and through. A last name didn't prove that, your attitude and wits about you told that story enough.

“I just kinda assumed the whole last name situation would have thrown him off my scent a little.” You and Bradley had known each other for what felt like your entire lives. Not all that close but still, you kept in contact over the years, met at family gatherings until his relationship with Pete Mitchell diminished into nothing. Suddenly Bradley Bradshaw was no longer around, for four years you heard nothing until one day you ran into him in the halls of the Naval Academy. He’d finally made it. Since then though things had been good–you found solace in his ability to overcome adversity and he found joy in the easygoing attitude you wore like a badge of honour. A friendship pure and as platonic as they come.

“Sounds like someone just got a scolding–” Phoenix smirked as she entered the locker room, noticing you on the ground after your near death experience. “I'm assuming you were on the receiving end of that mouthful Dixon?” She beamed, roughing the top of your head as you groaned in response. Still rattled. “You’ll never learn will you?”

“I’m hoping to one day, but no.” Sitting up as you let your legs stretch out, you ran your hands down your face–pulling at the skin as you widened your eyes and smirked at your own idiocy. “Probably not–”

“Who let you in here anyway, Bradshaw? I haven’t seen you since 0 week at Acam?” Natasha teased her long lost lover as she sauntered over to where Bradley sat. “And more importantly whos dick did you have to suck to get a mention?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the way Bradley looked at Natasha Trance, she mimicked it back as she stood between his legs so effortlessly, her hands on his shoulders as Bradleys hands slid up her hips.

“Well the list is certainly long, but highly distinguished.” You could have sat there for hours longing for a love like theirs. Fait always brought them back to one another. Each and every time like they had never left each other's sides, picking up right where they had left their bookmarked chapter.

“What do we have here?” When you turned your head towards the doorway of the locker room, you were met with a man who you could only physically describe at first glance as Coverboy Pretty. With sandy blonde hair and a smile that could most likely light up New York City after dark, he was the embodiment of a ken doll. “Phoenix and Rooster, my oh my, do my eyes deceive me?”

“Get bent Hangman—“ Rooster sneered as Phoenix stepped back from his welcoming embrace, instead opting to fold her arms across your chest and raise a single brow Hangman’s way. The blonde barely turned his attention to Rooster as he caught the sight of you slumped against the lockers on the ground. He’d never seen you before in all his years of active service. There was a gentle glint in your eyes as you took him in, for a moment you could have gotten lost in the green of his eyes, mesmerising as they swirled in all shades. Jake was quick to catch that momentary glint–deciding to chase it further.

“And who might you be?” He pointed with a smirk. “And what are you doing on the ground like that?”

“That’s Dixon—“ Phoenix spoke before you could say something stupid. “She’s mentally and physically recovering from nearly taking the beating of her life from Admiral Payne.” You and Phoenix had been assigned with the strike fighter squadron VFA/-41 Black Aces prior in Lemoore before your summons for Miramar. Rooster however had been stationed out with Hangman with the strike fighter squadron VFA-87 Golden Warriors in Virginia.

“What’d you do to fall on his radar?” The man who’d been standing just behind the blonde who you could only assume was Hangman spoke up finally. He was darker, quite handsome, by all accounts a nice guy–you'd give him the benefit of the doubt until further notice. But you’d never seen either of them before in your career. Never crossed paths, never heard the callsigns.

“I whoopee cushioned his chair, Dad was in the same TopGun class as him back in the day” You explained yourself, with your hands up by your side in defence. “Stupid I know but dad said if I didn’t at least do it once—“

“Wait, who's your dad?” Hangman coaxed the information straight from the source as he stepped closer. “There’s more than one Nepo baby in the class Coyote, my god—what are we gonna do?” Ah, so Hangman and Coyote–did everyone have their call signs except for you? You couldn't possibly be the only person on this goddamn base that didn't have their call sign yet.

“Pfft, please if anything I’m gonna get my ass handed to me the whole time I’m here because of my dad.” You groaned as you stood from your seat on the ground. Dusting your hand off on the normex suit before sticking it out Hangman’s way. “I’m Y/n Dixon, Dads Slider, Ron Kerner.” You explained. “And before you ask, it’s just Dixon—I don’t have a callsign yet.” Jake couldn’t really wrap his head around what he was hearing, how had you not been given a call sign yet? If you were at TopGun level surely you had one–right? To not have a callsign was like seeing a unicorn in the wild. It didn't happen because those things just didn't exist.

“You display a complete lack of personality or something? What’s the go with that?” Taking your hand in his, the blonde introduced himself. Taking your knuckles to his lips. “Jake, Jake Seresin.” You saw Bradley gag from your peripheral vision as Jake kissed your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Callsign to be determined.” Bradley hated the laugh Jake evoked out of you, your smile bright as you felt the flush of heat rise to your cheeks. “But surely your’re fucking with me? You can’t not have a call sign?”

“Well, they always say you shouldn’t ask for one, and I haven’t been given one, so yeah—“ Pulling your hand back, Jake watched as you ducked your head a little and rubbed at the red marks that had started the get a little more aggressive on your hand from where you'd slammed it into your locked not too long ago. “Little bit of a nomad I guess, everyone just calls me Dixon.”

“Dixon huh?” Jake grinned ear to ear as he drank in the sight of you—he couldn’t deny you were a breath of fresh air, he’d never had a female wingman and he was keen to test the waters. “Well it’s nice to meet my new wingwoman.” When Jake had seen his last name posted next to yours. Seresin x Dixon—he assumed he’d be flying with another guy. He’d never had a female wingman.

“What are you talking about?” Bradley stood with a sudden urgency. “How do you know you got Dixon?”

“Listing was posted like an hour ago on the communications board outside the hub.'' Jake said it in a way as if this isn't something you guys shouldn’t have known about. “I was just there.” Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, Jake watched as Phoenix and Rooster barrelled out of the locker room, shoving at each other as they fought to be the first one out the door. Rooster let Phonix go first, of course. Coyote wasn’t too far behind them, he wanted to bear witness to the meltdown Rooster was going to have when he realised Phoenix had been paired with Kenny ‘Plan-B’ Shepard. The call sign had been with him since before his time in the Navy. When women walked into the bar, they knew when they saw this guy, that that was what their “last resort” was.

“So since you're my wingman I guess we should get to know each other?” Turning back to your locker, you grabbed your helmet out. It was simply black. No details or call sign to decorate it with as of yet. Which kinda sucked—but you knew, list most things, time would only tell. “You wanna grab something to eat after the first run? Grab a few beers at the Hard Deck? I could go a couple of rounds if you’re not doing anything.” Jake took the opportunity you’d handed him on a silver platter to rile you up.

“If you’re asking me on a date, I'm gonna need a little bit more effort than that sweetheart.” He beamed back at you as you raised your eyes stunned at his forwarness.

“Oh—I wasn’t.” Immediately jumping to your own defense to correct the course that you thought the conversation was heading. You hadn’t been asking Jake out. “Honest, I just thought that maybe that was the best way to just—“ Jake's laugh echoed through the empty locker room as you rambled, stopping yourself when you noticed he had just been pulling your leg. “Oh, okay so you just assume every girl who gives you the time of day wants to date you? Is that it?”

“Nah, just the real pretty ones with no call signs.” He was falling in love in a millisecond just from the way you caught yourself smiling for a split moment before you had to reel yourself in. Would you be into an autumn wedding? His family's ranch was always the prettiest place on earth in autumn. “Hard Deck, your shout.” He pointed as you stared at him with a raised brow and lips pressed firmly together.

“Oh great.” Rolling your eyes, you pushed past Jake Seresin, you couldn’t think of a worse wingman to want to have to work with. “I can already tell you’re gonna be hard to deal with.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake caught himself smiling softly at the sound of your voice playing out in his head like a symphony as he thought back to the moment he first met you. How beautiful you were, how charismatic.

He sits there for a moment, his hair a mess as he reminisces about your softness, your kindness, your ability to take his breath away in an instant at just a simple smile. Jake catches himself for a split second smirking softly at your memory. His eyes lingering on the photo tapped haphazardly to his mirror. The photo of you and him that would forever travel the globe with him. Cross the seven seas with him. The engagement ring on your ring finger just a tad too big. He never got a chance to get it resized, but regardless it sat snug around his neck—strung between his dog tags.

Pushing him self up off the ground Jake wiped his tears and sighed a heavy sigh. Fixing himself up the best he could before he unlocked his dorm door, opening it to have Coyote falling in as the door disappeared from where his back had been leaning against it.

“I’m fine—“

“You sure?” Javy asked as he stood to his feet in Jakes threshold. He had know his best friend long enough to know by now that the look on his face was the mask someone wore when they were battling their own inner demons. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

But Jake couldn’t talk about it. How could he? When his own mind was as loud as all hell, screaming at him the same thing over and over and over again until he got the message loud and clear:

Hangman, the only place you ever led her was an early grave.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @dempy @abaker74 @a-serene-place-to-be @starkleila @some-lovely-day

#jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 1 year

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King thor (mcu thor) is stressed from his duty as king and avenger so his queen of midguard, reader (not actually a queen of midguard, but she is human who used to work as shield nurse and has a healing power) decided to release his anger and stress on her! Hard core fuck, suck nipple, blowjob, doggy style, sucking pussy, daddy, other positions style

How Kings Release

Thor paces your shared bedroom back and forth with long agitated strides. The pressure of becoming king has more than shredded any semblance of patience he possessed and often sent him to the realm of pure fucking insanity. He honestly didn't know how much more he could take before he snapped.

Pressures of keeping his kingdom safe weighed heavily on Thor, and he's not afraid to admit that he worries for his people. Unfortunately his concern usually translates to internal rage and he needs a fuckin stress reliever. He'll just never speak that little fact out loud.

You're unaware of Thors surly reflective state and unluckily take this moment to enter the room. Hes not facing you but his perturbed treading comes to a halt. Since youre only there to change your royal robes, you only glance at Thor, giving a warm loving smile to his backside before heading to your huge walk in closet. You undress as you speak to your unknowingly fuming husband.

"My king, you're needed in the prison chambers. Something about Loki needing a word with you."

You're clothes hit the floor, pooling around your ankles when you hear a thunderous pound on the wall behind you. The noise obviously startles you, makes you jump as you turn around bewildered. Your round heavy tits swing a bit as you look at him. He's facing you now, taking you in unabashedly.

Thor wordlessly gazes at your naked frame intensely. His silent brooding demeanor is starting to make you anxious. What the hell was goin on?

"Did something happen, Thor? Are you al-,"

Your inquiry clips short as he stalks towards you, still refusing to say a single word. You kinda wanna make a run for it but the way he's looking at you seems to dare you to take a single step and your not sure you want to take that chance. Your feet are rooted to the spot as he approaches, looking you up and down like a piece of damn meat. He hums a short sound of appreciation of everything he can see and fuckin KNOWS your body has to offer. His tongue flicks out to lick over his bottom lip as he continues to stare at your curvy naked body. Shit, you smell so God damn good to him.

"Thor-"

Your husband's large warm hand wraps firmly around your throat and you shut the fuck up promptly. It's about now that you're finally aware of your warrior's very tense disposition. He steers you towards the bed by your neck, makin you walk backwards till the back of your legs hit the soft midnight blue plush blankets. He brings his face close to yours, your noses almost touch, finally addressing you with a tone that was deadly low.

"Call me that again and you'll fuckin regret it."

Thor is seething.. And you have no idea why. Your heart is pounding at his behavior and when his hand clutching you becomes a bit more malleable on your neck, you might have an inkling of what's comin next. Even though your starting to get wet at his treatment, you hope to hell you're not limping afterwards for the entire damn kingdom to see this time.

"If I hear you call me anything besides who the fuck I am to you, I'll wreck that pussy way more than I intend to. A warning for you My Queen: this is not the time for your usual bratty, disobedient behavior. "

Thor pushes you to the bed, eagle-eyes focused on the way tits and thighs jiggle as you hit the bed with a soft plop. He kneels, pushing your legs open roughly as he examines your glistening folds. His fingers spread your pussy lips, relishing in the way the pink of you throbs for him. It makes his fat lengthy dick perk up even more in anticipation.

His cock lays heavy behind his clothing, so damn rigid and engorged. Thor's dick drips small drops of precum and it makes his underwear feel warm and sticky. Not even aware of when his dick got hard, all he can contemplate is taking his emotions out on your poor unsuspecting body.

"Now, I'm gonna suck and lick my pretty little pussy till you cum. Afterwards, I'm gonna fuck you however I want until my balls are drained. Understand?"

Thor doesn't bother to wait for answer as he pins back both of your thighs in each of his hands and dives in. Spearing your wet pussy with his stiff tongue, the king basks in your taste as his crown tips off of lengthy blonde flowing waves. He's moaning and groaning at the flavor of you bursting inside his mouth. Continuously stabbing at your pussy, Thor grips your thighs harder and pulls you closer to his mouth.

You have to grip the bed with tight balled fist as he attacks your little puss. Your breath puffs out in desperate little pants as he gives instant blindingly good pleasure. Your h/c hair fans out on the bed like a halo surrounding you while thrash wildly. You know better than to push him away so you do nothing but endure the intense sensations invading your overwhelmed fluttering pussy.

"Ooooohmyking! My King! Pleeeease! Ohgodohgodohgod! I c-ca-.. I can't!"

You hope your fuming husband takes pity on you and slows down but your wanton cries have the opposite affect. He sets your right leg on his shoulder and brings a hand down to thumb at your throbbing clit, pressing firm quick circles that have you gasping for air. You yank at you comforter but it does nothing to help with the feeling of him fuckin his tongue into you as hard and fast as he can. White sparks flash behind your tightly closed eyes as he forces you to take what he gives you.

Thors mouth, beard and chin are soaked. The smell of you, your passionate shrieks, and sight of your shuddering body makes his dick wanna spurt. He presses himself against the bed as he eats you like he'll never see you again. He can tell you're getting close, needs you to be as wet as possible cause when he gets inside you, he's gone beat ya pussy up till his hearts content.

"Ohfuuuuuck! Ah, ah aaahgod! Love you! I love you Daddy! Loveyou, loveyousofuh-uckinmuch!"

He knows damn near the entire castle can hear your wails bounce of your walls of your room and through the open window. Should let up some cause you'd be embarrassed as hell if you knew but he couldn't muster to find a single ounce of a fuck to give as he removes his tongue and give a vigorously resistant suck on your clit.

"St-st-o-op! Ple-! St- AH! Thoooor!! Pleeeease!"

Thor thinks the arch that snaps your back is so fuckin pretty as you cum fast and hard against his mouth. It's a damn miracle the bedspread doesn't rip between your fingers from your deranged tugging as you blast his mouth and chin with a heavy dose of your love. With eyes still shut, you beg for it to end but its a laughable concept to your mean ass man as he doubles down on his sucking.

Your now wordless screams make his ears ring and dick attempt to bust free. He pulls off with a POP! only to latch back, nursing at your sensitive little button ferociously.

The fervid sensation makes you kick at him and you actually manage to free your self. You think you'll take your chances of escape as you twist onto your belly and make a very sorry attempt at scrambling over the bed. Your knees are too shaky and your legs wobble, your poor pussy still pounding with overstimulation.

Thor can't believe his fucking eyes, not only had he peeped you calling him by his first fuckin name, here you were trying to make the weakest escape attempt he had ever witnessed. It actually made him laugh out loud, first in disbelief and then malevolence. Aight if that's the way you were gone play, he'd show you wassup. BET.

Your tyrant of a husband hastily pulls his stiff long dick out from under his kingly attire, pumping it quickly from tip to base as he snatches you back by your ankle. You're sobbing and flailing but Thor hardly gives you a chance to fight back. He briefly lets go of his cock to seize your hips upwards and grab a handful of your hair. Your impaled on his length before you can even think to beg for his forgiveness.

"FUUH-UUCK!" Your king's boisterous roar of satisfaction definitely beats your stuttering howl.

Your breath is knocked from your lungs as he digs into you more than halfway. He has to pause and revel in your lava hot snug little pussy already trying to milk the fuck outta him. You're uncontrollably clenching around his girth and its sending him to fucking Valhalla.

His next thrust takes him to the hilt as you wheeze for air. Thor utilizes his grip in your hair to pull you back to meet his powerful thrusts. The booming slaps of his pelvis crashing against your juicy jiggling ass cheeks as proof of his earlier promise to wreck you if disobeyed. You suck air into your lungs desperately, finally able to pitifully wail at his reckless treatment of your body.

You wanna beg him to slow down, plead with Thor to stop; at least just a small break from the havoc he was wreaking between your thighs. But you can't, don't even realize that your tongues hangs from between your lips uselessly as he despicablely fucks you without a hint of concern.

"Shoulda- dammit sooo tight! Fuuuck! Sh-shit, shoulda listened to me y/n." He leans down, pulling you back further to speak at your ear.

"You never listen. Actually thought I'd l-let your bad ass get away? Think Daddy's gonna h-have to stop taking it so e-easy on you."

He slaps each of your ass cheeks, admiring the way your radiant brown skin ripples from the impact before both hands wrap around your slender neck. He's bucking and riding you hard as tears stream down your face from the immense pressure in your gut. Your nothing more than a doll for him at this moment and the sentiment makes him squeeze a bit at your neck which in turn has your pussy attempting to strangle his cock.

Dammit, Thor wants to fuck you longer but with the week he's had he should be greatful he ain't explode inside your magic pussy on the first stroke. His balls draw up tight against his body and your tough ass husband actually whimpers as his cock starts to spasm. He's quick to rip his dick from your abused little puss, turn you to face him and push you to your knees.

Your dazed, beyond confused, as you rapidly try to blink tears from lashes and clear your blurry vision. Your most definitely not expecting or prepared for Thor to bully his spasming wood between your lips. He stares down at you with a dilated piercing gaze and lets loose massive torrents of cum as he shouts your name exuberantly.

"..aaaaah FUCK! Y/n, y/n! Oh f-fu- Gods help me! Sofuckingooood y/n! Haaah.."

You never had a fucking chance in hell! His cum gags you as you cough harshly around his dick. Try as you might to pull back from the onslaught, he easily holds you in place while he humps his dick in your mouth ruthlessly. The muscles in his torso flex erratically, and he shouts estatically as he busts a fierce ass nut.

By the 4th spurt of Thor's copious cum, he's slides in till your nose presses against his short dark blonde public hair. 'He smells like the flower soap on the the 4th floor' your mind supplys foggily as he spurts again, this one going straight down your throat.

Thankfully his streams lose volume by the 6th gush into your warm cavern but it's almost impossible to breathe as his cock chokes you. Trickles of his thick white liquid leaks from the corner of your mouth as he finishes releasing into your over stuffed jaws.

His saltiness assaults your senses and your chest burns with the need to take a real breath. Your arms now hang limply at your sides, eyes half closed as you helplessly wait for your king to release you.

Your freshly done make up runs from your watery eyes down your cheeks, smearing with the cum that streams down your chin. Splashes of Thor's warm milk decorates your chocolate skin in blotches and the sight makes his slowly softening dick twitch with interest. He takes a mental picture before pulling his dick out of throat slowly and relinquishing his grip.

You fall back against the bed flaccidly with a pathetic hum as his eyes follow the rivers of his release now dripping down your perky tits and tummy to your trembling thighs. You stare at the wall unfocused as your chest heaves. You can't think.. Can't move.. You can't speak.. Just how he likes it after a session.

"Fuuuuck.. I needed that, Woman."

He ducks down to retrieve his crown, tucking his dick back into his clothes as he smirks at your pliable, relaxed state. Thor wipes at the sweat on his face with his sleeves as he reluctantly turns and heads for the door, leaving you on the bedroom floor still trying to catch your breath. He'll be back to run you a hot bath and hopefully slide in some round 2. For now, time to deal with Loki..

#thor #black reader #dubious consent #daddy k!nk #smut #black fanfiction #suckin dick #throat training #throat fucking #choking #sub reader #rough

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daftdrac · 2 months

Note

pspspspsps

the start of the from the fog holiday series but Robert gets sick (frostbite or anything else really), and Sean and Shadow have to nurse him back to health

Shadow grunted with effort as he pushed a branch out of his face, carefully stepping over another berry bush- and getting his pants leg snagged anyways. When he felt the thorns tug in the fabric, he groaned, dropping his sword as he leaned down and carefully untangled himself. Picking his sword back up, he glances around the clearing Sean, Robert and him had built in. He stepped up to their shabby cabin, ducking his head down to enter through the doorway. Sean was inside, tending to a furnace- from what Shadow could see, it was some of the little mutton they'd managed to collect thus far.

"Hey," he greeted passingly, walking over to the bed they all shared- technically three separate beds, but pushed together. The group wasn't new to these scenarios, they knew it would be safer to sleep in a pile than each separately. For heat conservation, they all reminded themselves consistently. Sean gave an acknowledging nod, but didn't look up, and Shadow set his sword down on the hard ground, the dirt floors housing a top layer of permafrost from the freezing climate.

"Where's Robert at?" Shadow mused, turning to face Sean as he stretched his arms up, grunting under his breath as his muscles relaxed.

"Uhh, I think he said he was gonna go looking for something- animals, or resources- maybe you, I wasn't paying much attention." Shadow raised an eyebrow at Sean, who still had his back turned to the taller man.

"Uh, alright then, I'll go wait outside," he mumbled. He took large strides towards the door frame, once again ducking to fit through. He glanced around the clearing once again, eyes landing on the small chicken pen and berry farm they'd managed to get up and running.

We're lucky these berries are so resistant to the cold, he thought, they've been our primary food source so far. He glanced at the snow on the ground, and a smile creeped up his face. He crouched down, adjusting his hood as it came down in front of his eye, and stuck his hands into the snow, starting to ball it up and pack it together. He made a few snowballs, smirking as he leaned back against the fence, holding the cold, half-frozen objects in his lap as he waited.

It didn't take long for Robert to return, coming out of the forest from generally the same area Shadow had. His head snapped up as something hit the tree beside him, seeing Shadow and ducking a second too late, taking a snowball to the face. Shadow dropped his last snowball in surprise, sucking air through his teeth sympathetically

"Ooh- shit, sorry man," he apologized, stepping forward. Robert wiped the snow off his face with his sleeves, his eyes squinted. His nose was pink, and as Shadow looked more closely at him, so were his ears- and his knuckles and fingers.

"It's- it's fine, dude, I'm good-," Robert grumbled, stepping through the brush towards the berry farm. "Do you have any food-? I- ran out halfway back, almost got ambushed by something," Shadows brow furrowed, his level of concern for Robert immediately rising. He glanced down at Robert's hands, seeing they were shaking.

"Uh- yeah, yeah, give me a second," He sputtered, digging in one of his bags, pulling out some berries and handing them to Rob. "Sean's cooking the mutton we got inside, c'mon," Shadow urged, placing a sturdy hand on Roberts back to lead him.

The two went inside, and Sean, hearing two sets of footsteps, glanced up. He immediately locked on to Roberts rosy features, and handed him some of the freshly cooked meat. "Rob, come sit down," he ordered, and he didn't even hesitate before grabbing Robert's arm and pulling him towards their beds.

Shadow frowned, following and sitting by his side. "You cold? What's wrong?" He asked, both him and Sean having already clocked something was up.

"I- I don't know, It doesn't matter probably, just- really.. *cold*," he shuddered, leaning into Shadows' side, subconsciously seeking warmth. Sean hesitated, but pulled his mask off.

Shadow glanced up at Sean's face with slight surprise, but ultimately returned his focus to Robert as Sean leaned forward, pressing the back of his hand to Rob's forehead.

"..are you- sure you're cold, Rob?" Sean asked, eyes narrowed. Shadows surprised, did the same as Sean, wincing when he felt the fever Robert was nursing.

"*Oh*, you-.. Finish eating, then lay down." He said, his tone stern, leaving little room for argument, though it wasn't like Rob had the energy to argue anyways.

~...

I'm bored. I love this sm but I've been writing for the past hour and I still have like 2 hrs almost left so I'll come back to this if I get bored and finish this drabble but like. 😭

Hope you enjoy Astro 🙏 I actually love this prompt/ship

#daft literature #scenario smp #forgelabs #forge labs #shadowmech #okrobert #whump #(?)#idk.#sickfic #ig.#quickmechlabs

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aesolerin · 5 months

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song that reminds me of DD1/2 cast. for some it'd be sarcastic or bitter, for others (read: baldwin) it'd be sincere in how gentle it is.

But, particularly, the last verse, the "I might've been a good man" one - that verse makes me imagine all the shit DD1 Dismas went through in the name of redemption (up to potentially the final battle and maybe even being a sacrifice to Come Unto Your Maker), and how in the end, after all of that, DD2 Dismas is the only one who has a vague recollection of any of it. (not that it turned out we were doing any sort of good in the end, but you get my jist)

now (only slightly related to the above): we both know who our faves are, but I'd love to know all your thoughts/headcanons on our fave Mr. Highwayman yourself, since it seems like you might have some! DD1 or DD2, your choice (if that has an impact).

....but also, if you do have any thoughts on how his dynamics would be with either or both Sarmenti/Baldwin, I would of course not be averse to that either. >>;

the link didn't stick, but we thank lyrics.com bcs i was able to reverse search that one line and you confirmed it was this song:

youtube

oh my goodness it has such a sweet bitterness that can perfectly embody what it means to be send unto the breach over and over until you and everyone else around you is dead. lives they could have led, the stories they can tell, the good and bad moments they share. in the Tavern, at camp during an expedition, i can clearly see any and every hero singing along with any and every emotion.

it definitely hits Dismas the hardest. if the well-traveled Sarmenti didn't bring the song to the Hamlet, he's the next likeliest candidate to me. perhaps he's in the Living City of DD2, quietly it singing to himself because nobody else knows it...

i do love Dismas! i especially love the works that contrast him and Reynauld, the penitent thief and the thieving repentant. the Crusader is a good guy, but i don't think he's a nice guy all the time, and in DnD terms i see the Highwayman as the 'face' between them. silver-tongued rogue, ya know?

other miscellaneous Dismas headcanons:

-jokey and witty and such, but still puts up a bit of a wall. old instincts as a former brigand, you don't get close to the new recruits. he softens up a bit as the heroes build camaraderie.

-very protective over his food, but i think this is a pretty common headcanon. if he goes out of his way to share a meal with someone, he is willing to die for them.

-a little bit superstitious. lucky coins and red skies at dawn and such.

-we all know this. man loves poetry. has a secret stash of poems and thankfully Reynauld hasn't found it yet. they're getting really good!

-could give the Antiquarian a run for her money when it comes to counting money. one glance in a pouch and there's a very good chance he can estimate how many coins there are.

-seems to take the eldritch bullshit in stride, but really there are nights where he just. lays face down on his bed. and internally screams about the fuckery of the Farmstead and/or the DD2!Cultists. he's fine after though.

-did in fact try his hand as a candlemaker. loved the work, but the pay wasn't quite enough.

-kinda low alcohol tolerance, but also so on-edge all the time that he feels like he needs to get buzzed to relax.

-loves rats and other vermin creatures. big reason why it bothers him so much in DD2, reliving the times he had to resort to eating rats. how'd you feel eating your cat or dog to survive?

as for his relationship with Sarmenti and Baldwin in particular...

Sarmenti: even with all the verbal jabs and physical semi-violence (headlocks, shoulder punches, etc), Dismas and Sarmenti are best friends. they 'get' each other. with one non-verbal cue they know when to tone it down for the other. partners in (mostly metaphorical) crime, in good times and bad.

Baldwin: Dismas really looks up to him and sees him as one of the very few genuinely good people in the world. trying so hard not to say 'daddy issues'. (which is very funny because i headcannon that Baldwin is actually the youngest of the DD men. man just has that regal bearing.) they'll occasionally read together, and he's the only one Dismas shares his poems with!

thank you for sharing the song and your thoughts! i hope these were enough thoughts for you! sorry it got so long!

#ask #long post #darkest dungeon #dd highwayman #dd jester #dd leper

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afniel · 4 months

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Hi there's really vague (but kinda heavy?) Third Novel stuff under the cut, so don't spoil yourself if you don't want to know anything. Because there's a liiiiittle something something in there plus some art.

Man I'm like. Writing on chapter 2(?) of I Can't Believe It's Not A Trilogy (ICBINAT...world's worst working title) and this story is gonna need such a ridiculously huge content warning for suicidal ideation, way more than the first two, and the second has more than the first, so you know this one has got it bad.

And yet this is just kinda Where X Is At Right Now at the start of it, for Reasons (that I can't say further shit about until Outcome Unpredictable is all online, lol). I have a chapter and a half of, I dunno where or when it fits, just kinda disconnected noodling, and they were hard to write in the kind of way that's warning me that I don't really know what I'm doing with a character, just kinda slapping events together without much emotional weight to any of them or any real direction.

Then I kinda had a few revelations in a row, realized I was trying to lean way too hard on X to Just Be Better Already Dammit, and he was just coming out flat because he's not better already, dammit. Reploid Grandpa is 100% a fucked-up old veteran who's barely out of the hell he came from so yeah, he makes huge strides in his mental health, but he started at the bottom of a really deep hole. That's not a quick climb! It takes real life people decades to escape that hole, and they usually didn't go through it for 80+ years without a break. He's just gonna be down there, even if he's a lot higher than he started. (IRL veteran suicide rates are absolutely dismal too, and yeah, X's mental state very much reflects this at the point that I'm writing.)

Once again all I can actually do is write down the words as they happen and trying too hard to steer it myself only makes it stop working. Am I ever going to stop writing about this old man's mental health struggles? Uhh. Well, I've tried to stop twice, if that tells you anything. I swear he does get a happy ending and keep recovering. Well, maybe not that much physically, because Protagonist Who Stays Disabled And Isn't Magically Fixed is still a primary goal, here, and the story agrees with me on that, but even given that he could stand to be more comfortable even if he's not magically fixed. I dunno why this is where it's going but I think it's just my extreme commitment to What If This Stupid Video Game Plot Was Realistic Though. It's definitely realistic now! Maybe sometimes a little too much, but honestly, that's what makes it work, I think. It would never stick the landing if I stopped short of 100% painful sincerity, even if it's hard to look at sometimes. Feeling a bit like you're being invited to see and feel vulnerabilities that maybe aren't entirely your business when you're reading fiction is the secret sauce, if you ask me.

(At this rate I'm gonna have to update the author's notes at the end of Outcome Unpredictable because I'm making myself a goddamn liar. I straight up say I have no intent of writing a third one, but here I am, evidently doing that before the author's notes even hit the internet.)

I'm not gonna explain shit past that at the moment, so just feel free to conjecture amongst yourselves at the one thing I've kinda drawn in the ICBINAT era. This is about a year and a half from OU and 2 years from FtC, for the record. It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you leave an AU running unattended for long enough, even the canon characters will eventually turn into OCs.

(Also that if my coloring style gets any more rim light I'm going to be in Sonic Adventure style coloring territory...which would fuck severely, actually.)

#Nevi Writes #cw ideation #not mine! it's story stuff. I'm mentally quite well and it's very nice

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themonotonysyndrome · 1 year

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"Hey guys, it's 8r19h7 eYE2 here. Welcome to my first boss battle - a woman."

If you ask Bright Eyes - which no one is doing nowadays. Or talk to. So rude. - their ultimate weakness has always been hot women. Now you might be asking "Oh, does that mean you're Bi?" or "What's your body count?" or even "Holy fuck, Bright Eyes! When did you get in the shower with me!?" but that's not important. What you should be asking is what type of women Bright's heart explodes for like a car crash.

The answer? Preferably boss-ass bitches that can crush them with a pair of fuck-me-heels with daddy issues of the Frank Ocean level. Google it.

Oh and look! There's one here in Wonderworld! Shoes? Check. A scowl that can only mean the barista got her Starbucks order wrong again? Check. And when she steps away from the shadows, we hit the bonus round.

She's tall and her crown is pure platinum blonde. But like every white woman, she's hard to read but fortunately, Bright Eyes can so they check their text on Whatsapp (boomer apps gave them the hives) for any goddesses that are supposed to be on shift tonight.

Actually, let's go back a bit. Back to this morning when Sam accomplished the impossible and made Bright Eyes go 🕶️outside🌳.

"You know, I was counting down the days when you would finally kill me. I bet sometime this year. Vincent now owes me one of his Lambos. You think he'll be mad if I put some Barbie-friendly decals on it?"

"Bright, I don't mean now. I meant tonight at Wonderworld. Vamps in the Solaire Clan take turns patrolling the area."

Frederick pops into their head like an adorably fat mole. The Bright Eyes in their mind palace (it's actually more of a crack den but whatever) whack it with away because they know the unspoken reason why Sam approached them instead of his Progeny. And why he did so when Frederick was asleep.

But anyway, back to the present!

No hot white women were written in the text. Just a bunch of Vampires who form an anti-Bright Eyes committee™ as soon as they arrive. They ignore Bright for the most part which eventually leads the not-so-Newborn-anymore to the farthest end of Wonderworld where a babe is just chilling beside the vegetation-conquered carousel. Score one for the plants.

And the first thing that escapes from Bright's mouth is, "Good evening. May I inquire if you're a quirked up white woman that can bust it down sexual style so that I can get lost in the sauce?"

The scowl vanishes instantly. Like a father who went out to buy milk.

"Excuse me?"

Giddiness blooms like a weed (you know which ones) in Bright Eyes. She even has a Karen-patent tone! Could this night get any better -

Nevermind. Please wait for Bright's brain to reboot as an impressive set of badonkas-donkas is thrust in their face.

"Are you one of Sam's Progeny?" She didn't ask so much as demands. Like Bright and the world owes her something, everything. They wondered if they started panting because that's seriously hawt.

"I'm what you call a bastard of the magical kind meets with death via Vampiric jumpscare. And that's not a sentence I thought was possible."

Bright has to give blondie some credit; she takes their nonsensical answer in stride and with an eyebrow raised.

"I'll take that as a yes. You fit the rumours at least."

"You heard of me but I don't know who you are. You're hot but... sus. Do I need to eject you?"

"No surprise there. I bet Sammy did everything he could to hide you from me. He thinks he's protecting you, but all he did was made me curious."

"Aww shit, did the clapping of my ass cheeks give me away?"

"...Are you fucking high?"

"Probably. I had a shot of vodka with my honey milk boba tea with extra pudding and 100% sugar before I left. Fuck coffee when you can just meet god, amirite?"

The woman closes her pretty gold-ruby eyes. She exhaled and Bright could literally hear her mentally counting down.

"You're unlike any creature that I ever have the misfortune to come across."

"Uh, correction: you found me. And I still don't know if you're a quirked up white woman that can - "

"Enough. I get it. Are you usually like this when it comes to women?"

"Hey, I thought I would be holding in my rizz 'till the heat death of the universe! So who are you o' beautiful sour cream?"

"Careful, I can't tell whether that's an insult or a compliment."

"Sounds like a you problem, chief."

Apparently, magic does exist because despite the non-stop verbal trainwreck that's coming out of Bright's mouth, the woman's lips nearly twitch a smile.

"You're ballsy and stupid. I like that. The name's Alexis. A pleasure for you to meet."

Yes! Bright made it to Phase 2, bitch!

"They call me Bright Eyes, my IQ is the highest among the Redditors on the 'Am I The Asshole' subpage - "

"That isn't saying much."

" - And welcome to the ruins of Vincent's hopes and dreams."

Now that made Alexis burst out a gut. Seriously, she's clutching her stomach with tears in her eyes. It boosts Bright's confidence as a future stand-up comedian. Their 'flirting?' went well but Bright didn't sense the spark of interest within the older Vampire. Boo.

"Right. I've decided to kidnap you now. How accurately can you predict your... Grandmaker's reaction?"

"As accurate as my opinion on the Internet."

"Wonderful. I hope you like shopping and breaking the fabric of time and space on the highway."

And that, readers, is how Bright Eyes won against Alexis Getty-Solaire without getting Miyazaki'd.

#monotony's rambling #redacted asmr #redacted audio #fanfic #redacted bright eyes #redacted alexis #i have no idea what this is #think i watched too many max0r videos #wrote this shit in half an hour and now i'm gonna pass out

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z0mbieb0ybyersblog · 2 months

Text

Guilty Pleasure - chapter one

(GP master list)

pairing: Barty Crouch Jr./ James Potter

warnings: Explicit

word count: 5’578

ao3 tags: Hate Sex, They hate eachother, (like actually), Rough Sex, Possessive Barty Crouch Jr., Possessive James Potter, Classroom Sex, Rough Kissing, first chapter, Top James Potter, Bottom Barty Crouch Jr., second chapter, Bottom James Potter, Top Barty Crouch Jr., Maybe Love????, Sex Toys, Bondage, Nipple Clamps, Pet Names, james potter has a big dick, Cock Rings, Barty likes to call James pet, Oral Fixation, Spit As Lube, Collars, Vibrators, Dom/sub, Aftercare, Anal Sex, Unsafe Sex, sunkiller, Barty Crouch Jr. is a Little Shit

summary:

Hate sex. With top James and bottom Barty in chapter one, and bottom James and top Barty in chapter two.

Barty was sitting under a tree in the courtyard; he was bored out of his mind; none of his friends were there, and who knows what they were doing. He looked around idly, and of course, James Potter just had to be there. And, unsurprisingly, he stood right smack bang in the middle of a group of girls. All fucking swooning over him. Barty scowled, standing up and striding over. "Look at you, James-golden-boy-Potter being a slut, as per usual." And James couldn't help but roll his eyes at Barty's snide remark. The Slytherin was always quick to provoke him, and today seemed to be no different. James felt a surge of annoyance rise within him as he watched Barty approach. "Always lurking around, aren't you, Crouch?" James shot back with a smirk, and his jaw clenched.

Barty folded his arms across his chest. "'Course I am, that's what I do, isn't it?" He drawls, eyeing all the girls that were standing around James like sheep to the shepherd. "You're just an attention whore, aren't you? Stringing them all along. Well, let me make something clear: you are not that attractive at all. Don't let the attention get to your head, golden boy." He snarled, aiming to stroll off. James could feel the anger boiling inside him as Barty's words hit their mark. He wasn't going to let Crouch get away with that kind of insult. Without thinking, James quickly stepped forward, grabbing Barty's arm and pulling him back towards him roughly. "You think you can just waltz in here and talk to me like that?" James growled, his face inches away from Barty's. Barty sneered, trying to wrestle out of James' grip. "Oh, I know I can, Potter; the fuck are you gonna do about it?" His lip was curled upwards as he glared at James, persistently trying to take a swing for him but still being restrained.

James couldn't stand the thought of anyone talking to him like that, especially not Crouch. With a determined look in his eyes, James tightened his grip on Barty's wrist and forcefully led him away from the group of girls and towards a more secluded spot. Once they were alone, James pushed Barty roughly against the stone wall. The impact made a loud thud as Barty's back hit the hard surface. Barty tried with all his might to get away from that arrogant prick of a man; kicking, it turns out, didn't work. Insulting him did nothing other than earn him a harsher treatment. As he was pushed against the wall, Barty gripped onto the collar of James' shirt. He didn't appreciate this Gryffindor wanker throwing him around like a rag doll, even if he did deserve it for being a prick. James leaned in closer, their faces inches apart now. "You've got a big mouth for someone who can't back it up," James sneered, his voice low. "What are you gonna do about it, Potter? What was going through your thick head when you brought me over here?" He practically spat the words onto James' mouth. "Probably nothing going on in that head at all." He taunted with a smirk, tightening his grip on Potter's collar.

James felt a surge of dominance overtake him as he countered Barty's taunts. He swiftly moved to grab Barty's hands, which were gripping his collar, pinning them above Slytherin's head against the stone wall with a firm grip. Their bodies pressed close together. James could feel the heat emanating from Barty, their breaths mingling in the tense atmosphere. "You talk too much for someone who can't seem to keep their hands to themselves," James growled lowly, his voice laced with a volatile mix of anger and something else.. desire. His eyes bore into Barty's with intensity, challenging him silently as his other hand trailed up Barty's chest.

Barty felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he would sooner bite his tongue than admit the Gryffindor's actions affected him in any way, even slightly. He tried to squirm away from James, but it only pushed them closer still and left him panting into the already small space between their lips. "If my mouth bothers you so much, Potter, why don't you make me keep it shut." Barty sneered, rolling his eyes even as his shirt hiked up his abs, with his movement entirely controlled. James couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at his effect on Barty despite the Slytherin's attempts to remain aloof. He relished the challenge and refused to back down. His hand continued its slow trail up Barty's chest, feeling the warmth beneath his fingertips. Barty watched James' hand travel up his chest with low-lidded eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" Barty demanded although the look in his eyes showed something more passionate than annoyance ever could be. James couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at his effect on Barty despite the Slytherin's attempts to remain aloof. His voice dropped to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, their lips almost touching. "I'm teaching you a lesson, Crouch," James murmured, his tone filled with undeniable desire and dominance.

Barty's breath hitched almost unnoticeably, and he swallowed slightly. "This doesn't feel like a lesson, Potter." He hissed, his heartbeat rising a little faster. Barty tried to keep his eyes on James'; he really, truly tried, but he couldn't help that the Gryffindor's lips were so close and his gaze was wandering. Trying to kick Potter wasn't working either; in fact, it was keeping them closer more than anything. "I don't know why you think you are restraining me like this; just because everyone else is fucking obsessed with you doesn't mean you have any right to rag me around." Barty hisses a fuck ton of insults in James' face that were half-arsed and nowhere near as vile as when he genuinely wanted someone to fuck off. Barty's words stung, but James found himself drawn even closer to the challenge that Crouch presented. He reveled in Barty's defiance and arrogance, finding it only fueled his desires further. With a smirk playing on his lips, James brought his face even closer to Barty's, their noses almost touching as he whispered, "You're right, Crouch. I don't have any right," James murmured darkly, his grip on Barty's hands tightening slightly. With a sudden movement, he closed the remaining distance between them and captured Barty's lips in a searing kiss, cutting off any further insults or protests that might have escaped from the Slytherin's mouth.

Barty's mouth was already open to insult the Gryffindor when he was kissed, and he let out a quiet sound of surprise that turned into a groan. He tried to say something but gave in to the raging passion, kissing James back as hard as he could. Barty's arms were restrained, but his legs weren't, and he hiked his leg up around James' hip to pull him closer. As their kiss deepened, James felt the heat between them intensify. Barty's response was not what he had expected, but it only fueled the fire that had been simmering between them. Feeling Barty's leg wrap around his hip and pull him closer, James couldn't help but deepen the kiss even more. His free hand moved to grip Barty's waist firmly as they pressed against each other, consumed by a mix of desire and pent-up frustration that seemed to have been lingering beneath the surface all along.

When James' tongue slipped into his mouth, Barty couldn't help it. He'd always been a bit of a brat, and he wouldn't stop just because he was pinned to the wall with his arms held over his head. Barty lightly bit down on James' tongue, smirking against his mouth as he squirmed at the hand on his waist. "Is this what you wanted all along then? To snog me? Knew you were a slut." He taunted into James' mouth, even as he kissed him back fiercely. James couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as Barty bit down on his tongue, a mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through him. He was taken aback by Barty's brattiness but found it oddly enticing. Their kiss became more frantic, filled with passion and aggression as their bodies pressed against each other urgently. James could feel the heat radiating off Barty's body, igniting a fire within himself that he couldn't contain. With a growl against Barty's lips, James pulled away slightly to catch his breath, eyes dark with desire as he looked at the Slytherin. "You have no idea what I want," James breathed out heavily before crashing their lips together once again—

READ THE REST OF THIS CHAPTER ON A03

#ao3 #fanfic #marauders #james potter #barty crouch junior #james potter x barty crouch jr #sunkiller #sunkiller fic

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llycaons · 1 year

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ep11 (part 1): the tension in this family dinner is insane

I had to cut this in half because I posted too many images but this episode is just chock full of juicy shit. I really feel like this episode is where the series hits its stride and becomes super compelling. ep1 was a bit of a mess, but really interesting. eps 2-10 are okay, pretty good if you like the characters but the plot is hard to stay invested in. but here's where it gets good

it's nice that jc cares about MY dying. also I like his outfit

nmj's robes too. really cool design that matches his personality and surroundings perfectly

sometimes the translations inadvertently (I assume) result in lines that sound very childlike in english. not in a bad way. more like in an endearing and slightly corny way. 'safe and sound' is very sweet

wwx clearly having a good relationship with the merchants, and knowing them all personally, and being greeted by them, it all hurts so much. LP wasn't just a place and it wasn't just his siblings, it was a whole community and a home he was deeply intertwined with. he lost so much...

also jc not speaking with the merchant at all and then physically grabbing wwx's arm and dragging him to the estate is rly telling of how uncomfortable he is...the boy does not endear himself to the people

FEMALE DISCIPLES OOH

YOU ARE HURTING ME

LP is so gorgeous it's unreal

THIS LINE. FUCKERS

LP is a fantastically beautiful place, full of life and love and safety and comfort. maybe unrealistically so. but in stalks madame yu to balance this out, with her cruelty and abuse casting a long shadow over wwx and his siblings' lives. almost an inversion of the wen situation...the wens are almost cartoonishly evil in every way, but after they're vanquished another sect rolls in to take over power in the vaccum they left, and this sect commits the same atrocities with a better public face. behind the fantasy of the villain, there are others, more grounded in reality. this provides a refreshing balance to the character dynamics imo, allowing for both the fun of melodrama and the complexity and nuances of more realistic challanges the characters face

as much flack as jfm gets, his first order of business is to make sure the kids are okay and then that they get something to eat. idk how people genuinely think he's a worse parent than the woman who shows up, makes everyone around his miserable with her cutting remarks, elitism, self-esteem issues she makes her kids' problem, bullying, and genuine verbal abuse towards the children under her care, and then storms off. anyway

god he really doesn't want to see her. and everyone's like 'please yes let's fucking eat without her'

THE BITCH IS HERE. I love her entrance so much. seeing her through slatted wood, then seeing zidian, then watching her come into focus with her BODYGUARDS in attendance

she really is so hot I can't believe she didn't make it into the evilmilf tournament she would have slayed

insane how she turns every single thing anyone says into an attack on her, or something to find fault with. nobody can win in this exchange except her. it's over the top, and miserable to watch, but it tells us so much about her in ways I find very compelling. and the concerns she brings up are significant, but she's not interested in actually planning a solution, just in belittling her kids and complaining and attacking her family. idk why people think she's smart or well-versed in politics or would be a good leader when she's so terrible at communicating, self-absorbed to the point of violence, and uninterested in problem-solving. like yeah this is misogyny at work, but I find her much more compelling if she's a fucking mess of a person and I think her self-esteem issues are really significant and add a lot to her character

the work she gets done in this one scene is wild - she lays out another dimension of the tension between wwx and jc, she demonstrates exactly her issue with wwx, she serves as a template for the audience to connect with later jc, and she also informs the audience of the view many cultivators take of wwx, and how that strains his relationship with other cultivators

the way I can HEAR adult jc saying this. the cutting sarcasm, the contempt, the inability to argue against it because what is he going to say? jc later echoes her in sneeringly calling wwx a good person for trying to be a hero

after she leaves jc looks like he's just woken up from a nightmare...

this is like my favorite expression of lwj's I love it. the contempt. the stoicism. the refusal to be baited or angered. very lwj core

I was so emotional watching this scene I LOVE LAN QIREN!!! I LOVE HIM!!! his care for his nephews is obviously due to the fact that he wants the lan clan to survive, but of course it's also a personal concern. he loves wangji! he's their little boy! and he doesn't just care about the heirs, he stands out there refusing to find shelter until more of the disciples can come in and be saved

this line 🥺

it is so fucked up to see the lans all being murdered. it's a school! it's like a temple! it's a place of learning and contemplation! they're not even taught to fight people, their swords are for cultivation. and wen xu just barges in and attacks lrq! he's an old man you fuck! he's like an old professor! stop trying to hurt him!

also so so sad to see this violence in the halls where wwx laughed and joked with jc, and the little dorms where the kids were staying, where wwx made jyl smile with his paperman. ough

I'm always startled by the raw emotion on lwj's face here. I thought it was because I was getting better at reading him, but no I think he's just very expressive here in ways he isn't almost anywhere else. anyway this expression makes me go 🥺

I can't upload any more pics even tho I love this scene, and it's late and I have to go to bed, so I'm ending at the halfway point here and will come to it tomorrow

#thank fuck we are at the good part #events are TRANSPIRING #cql re-rewatch

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bigmeandragonlady · 1 year

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nsfw a-z + Aelyn!

cut for length and tmi galore

A = Aftercare Isn't used to much of anything and is fine just parting ways. but in an ideal situation: sleepy, wants to cuddle and have pillowtalk. cleans up but wants to slide right back into bed

B = Body part (their favorite) You know, her tits are great, there's a reason most of her clothes are low cut and she enjoys when her partner pays attention to them. For some reason I think she would like her own hands as well. In terms of others: shoulders/back, mouth.

C = Cum Ambivalent- you wanna cum in her? on her? that's fine. (if she doesn't get to cum she's... frosty)

D = Dirty Secret hmm idk if it counts but has been payed by a noblewoman to seduce her husband as a way of 'properly' invalidating their marriage by proving he had been cheating on her (i.e. getting caught in the act). He had been, she just couldn't prove it. (she was paid very well but can never go back to that town)

E = Experience I'm not going to say she's mindblowing in the sack (feels really cocky for me to say so) but she does have a lot of experience and knows what she's doing

F = Favorite position whatever has her pinned down and getting her back blown out tbh. She also really enjoys skin contact

G = Goofy Likes to smile and laugh during sex. not, like, constantly or anything but sometimes stuff gets knocked over or your bodies make noises- she prefers someone who will take that in stride and won't get upset if she starts giggling

H = Hair Doesn't shave but keeps it trimmed as part of her grooming routine

I = Intimacy 100% depends on who she's with and the situation at hand. If the person she's with expects it, she'll be affectionate and intimate to get what she needs. In a relationship/FWB arrangement ala tallys/chase tends to be more intimate and wants the same from her partner

J = Jack off (or masturbation) Does it more often then she'd like, just b/c it can be difficult to get her off and many of her hook ups just... didn't. prefers to have someone help her out

K = Kinks i haven't quite hammered this out yet but probably getting tied up and being overstimulated

L = Location She is not picky. Enjoys being somewhere familiar and soft where they can just lay there for awhile after, outdoors somewhere secluded is nice too

M = Motivation (What gets them going) another thing im not totally sure on uhh shit like Briony choking someone out with her thighs (hot) or Chase blowing a hole in Thurl's head out of nowhere (hot) or soft touches to her face, esp lips

N = NOs (Things they won't do) non-con/rape roleplay, making her bleed on purpose, a lot of pain/sadism- hit her too hard and it's over, chains/shackles

O = Oral is real good at giving but thoroughly enjoys receiving. Biggest downside is that skin contact/pressure is missing from her torso

P = Pacing Prefers longer, drawn out sessions but can do shorter ones

Q = Quickies Sure! However, as stated above, can have a hard time getting off so it needs to be made up to her later OR just learn to make her cum quickly

R = Risk Is willing to try most things as long as they don't cross her hard lines. Is okay with sex in semi-public places, i.e. risk of getting caught/somewhere they're not supposed to be

S = Stamina Pretty good, tbh, but i dont have anything exact like # of rounds.

T = Toys Doesn't have any but definitely isn't opposed to using them

U = Unfair She thoroughly enjoys teasing as a means of foreplay before even getting to the bedroom, mainly to rile up her partner so they take the reins in the bedroom

V = Vocal Very good at keeping quiet. Ranges from embarrassed to pleasantly surprised if her partner can make her lose control and be vocal

W = Wild Card Picks up on sexual intentions right away but is pretty dense when it comes to 'i wanna date you'/'i'm in love with you' unless directly stated.

For instance: when red invites you to go on a picnic on one his days off she just thinks 'that sounds like fun :D i like spending time with Red' even though it could 100% be interpreted as a date and would be seen that way by many parties. He would have to say 'this is a date'/'do you want to go on a date with me' none of this ambiguous 'lets have a meal together' shit

X = X-ray I really dont know how to go about this? she got.... a nice... pussy?

Y = Yearning (sex drive) hmm, i'd say pretty middle of the road. she can kind of switch it on and off pretty easily? it's so easy to turn her off and doesn't have to have sex that often

Z = Zzz Depends- she likes to cuddle and have pillow talk but if she's been nice and worn out she'll doze off pretty quickly

#shoh posting #aelyn wildegarde

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tsuki-sennin · 1 year

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Tsuki plays NichiAsa catchup! Part Two! Three whole-ass episodes of PreCure! I'm uh... gonna have to truncate a few things, but that's okay! The important thing here is I'm getting myself back up to speed. And it might be extra long anyways, who knows~!

Tsubasa and Ageha get their finisher, and like... two episodes worth of soul-searching. That's the impression I'm getting.

Spoilers, I guess...

-Holy shit, that's so much breakfast

-Ageha, what the fuck, how can we afford to eat like that-

-You don't know what Tsubasa eats! He could need specific kinds of fruit like a waxwing, grain like a sparrow, snakes like a secretary bird! Hell, he could be a cannibal for all you know!

-Oh

-Well, that's two out of four, at least.

-Off to school with ye, girls not focused on this episode.

-I see Elle does not fear the vacuum.

-Running into the man's room right in front of him, you are so cruel Ageha-neesan.

-Pimped out crib.

-Oni Pants

-Borb Form

-What the fuck, that was like two seconds how-

-Come now Ageha, a bird's gotta bathe in a body of water!

-Tsubasa looks like someone put him in the drier on a towel setting.

-"Decompress, Tsubasa! I need to see the feathering!"

-S-Rank Victory Babysat.

-Sora's very happy to smell like Premium Bandai prices.

-Pretty Holic~!

-The boy sleps

-Staying up late into the night with your latest masterpiece...

-I can't believe she transformed once and then died the next episode. This is some Takahashi shit right there.

-"Don't Hehe! me, woman!"

-Tsubasa-mandated nap.

-"Well okay~! Time for you to go through the wringer~!"

-Well yeah Battamonda, they do tend to come in groups.

-In fairness, this idea is sound in theory.

-"It's time for you to paint~!"

-Tsubasa takes his craft seriously.

-Fittingly enough I relate Ageha a lot more to Tsubasa's dad.

-Ne! Ne?

-Tulip~!

-I suppose it's only fitting that a babby contributes to the artistic achievement of the babysitter's club.

-Hirogaru Yuki!

-Hirogaru Wanderful~!

-...Battamonda was weirdly fast there.

-"No littering! >:("

-Man Shield Cures are cool.

-"Wow Sora, I can't believe we had a fun adventure you can't prove didn't happen off screen~!"

-"It was wild, Mashiro~! Wait until Tsubasa hears about th- BIRD!"

-Battamonda hates babies.

-"NEEEEEE"

-You tell him, Princess!

-Ooooh

-Very nice colors.

-Updraft Shining!

-OHHHH PAINT PALLET THAT'S SO CUTE

-Red!

-White!

-"BUTTERFLY WHAT THE HECK-"

-The sounds are fun

-A whole-ass Phoenix.

-BORB GROUND POUND

-"Mirror Pad! ...I guess!"

-"HAX! I CALL HAX!"

-Age!

-HAPPY

-Good morning, Miyuki.

-Butterfly being part of the ending finally feels correct.

-Mashiron focus, let's goooo

-20 episodes! ...well, 21, but I'm getting there!

-Tea time.

-"Finally, some quiet."

-Horsegirl Yoyo

-No time for any of that, Cinderella time!

-Oh fuck Momotaro again.

-Fairy tale books, books, books, and books!

-...perhaps Miyuki should've waited a little, I think we're a little close to Marchenland.

-Shopping~!

-"Didn't I just scold you last episode about working yourself too hard?"

-"Whatever, Mom~!"

-NATSUMI-

-Sorry.

-That name's a bit of a fight or flight for me now

-Wait, Natsumi... Pretty Holic... oh, that's a Tropical Rouge reference

-Cute

-Mashi-ron Privileges

-MERMAIDS

-THIS IS TROPICAL ROUGE

-Time to write a story~!

-Lots and lots of

-...MOVED BY BREAD

-Sora, you are truly someone special.

-Elle wishes to become sand. She cares not for how coarse, rough, and irritating it may be.

-...I deadass thought that farshot of Sora was her making a lenny face.

-Oh okay, and this one of Mashiro gives me big Osaka energy.

-"Too big, too Momotaro!"

-"My artistic genius has left me and took the kids."

-"It's okay Mashiro! You're still based, you're still cool!"

-Uh oh, here comes trouble.

-Sharingan is Caringan.

-I mean it seems like this little guy doesn't mind her not handing over the keys to her kingdom too much.

-Well, that went nowhere~!

-Urashima Taro!

-"INSPIRATION STRIKES!"

-Go Mashiron, shuffle rapidly home!

-Finally hitting your stride is the most satisfying thing ever.

-Tea Time

-You know what you must do, Sora.

-"...Okay!"

-Appreciation Jumpscare

-Victory!

-Battamonda, once more!

-"Whoa, you might get hit by a truck and all your disgusting guts might get on your manuscript~!"

-Full Team Transformation!

-...at least, until the next one shows up.

-"Disrespecting the sancity of a traffic light!? Unforgivable!"

-T

-Toki wo tomare?

-"Fuck the fight! Prism's dream is our dream too!"

-...Oh my God, it pauses Battamonda too.

-Orange!

-Shield Mode!

-Oooooooh!

-Mashi-run!

-Big Borb

-"Well, whatever, I still won because I wasted your time, haha, ratio!"

-Lots of really cute faces this episode.

-Holy hell, Natsumi.

-Gentle world...

-May I see the gentle world?

-Aw that's nice

-The entire zoo became friends

-No victory in anything but a valuable experience

-MELODYYYYYYY

-Hibiki what the fuck,

-Vegetables

-Last episode for today, let's gooooo

-He cleaned the windows and swept the floor and polished up the handle on the big front door~!

-Well you might very well not be Cure Wing forever, son.

-Yeah, growing up sucks hard, lad.

-HE SQUEAKS

-Tea time, once more!

-I think it's okay if you don't have a dream yet. I lived that way for a long time.

-Outing time?

-Vegetables....

-Imagine being a bird and making a bird.

-...wait, what the fuck am I talking about, we make statues all the time.

-Tomat... Corn...

-Peper...

-Compost!

-Ah the Wikipedia rabbit hole.

-Connect and expand!

-Luncc Time

-Raw Vege...

-Dip...

-DEPP SOSS

-Sora, do they not have sauce up there.

-Raiiiiiiiin!

-"The boy's a weathercock!"

-Battamonda's having a Battaponder.

-Man, eating under a gazebo in the rain...

-Peppers are too much for Ageha-san.

-"I don't have granny wisdom! I just learned a lot about weather during my- Oh!"

-Genuinely good message for a kids' show to have.

-Has he been posing there in the rain the whole time

-The Bird! The Bird!! You've officially gone too far this time, Battamonda!

-"Wing's bird... he's too fast!"

-"Oh golly, Sky, I worked real hard on it~"

-White! Blue!

-Freeze Magic

-Damn, this thing's cool.

-Ascending current!

-Shoot the sky!

-Hail~!

-...speaking of which, I'm so mad Hail was nerfed in Scarlet and Violet into "snowstorm", that's some weak-ass shit right there.

-Battamonda has resorted to a rampage.

-Beyond the clouds! Tsubasa Yuunagi takes flight!

-Pretty Cure! Titanic Rainbow! Rule of Three!

-"Next time is serious... you get it?"

-Mirror Pad! Help us out!

-Curry time...

-Blossoooooom!

-Good job, Tsubomi.

-Not a lot of cameos left.

-Alright, what's up for us next?

-Oh! Shalala!

-...Ohhhhh, Battamonda's planning something bad.

-Whew... now I'm all caught up! Yippee! Hot time!

-Alright, I'm gonna go eat lunch. All them vegetables made me hungry. Huttah!

#Hop! Step! Jump! Hero Gals Dream of the Everlasting Sky!#hirogaru sky pretty cure #hirogaru sky spoilers #hirogaru sky precure #pretty cure #precure

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 2 years

Text

Raccoon Ranch - Cornered

Racoon Ranch

TW: Multiple whumpers, beating, other whumpee as caretaker.

“Hey.”

Brody’s shoulders hitched to his ears, stopping him dead in his stride. There were footsteps and a laugh accompanying the voice, coming up closer behind him.

Dylan and Corwin.

Brody had no illusions the older man would do anything to temper Dylan’s impulsive behavior. Made it worse, somehow, egging him on slightly for his own twisted entertainment. Alone Dylan was annoying, but with an audience? He was insufferable.

“I said hey,” Dylan commanded, grabbing Brody’s shoulder to spin him around and pin his back to the wood barn. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to josel him for a moment.

“When one of your betters talks to you, you respond,” he ground out, pressing Brody further into the barn. The blond pushed his hand away and moved to walk away but wasn’t allowed.

“Move, Dylan.”

The slap seemed to come from nowhere. With his back already against a wall, it did little more than knock his hat crooked, but it still hurt. Brody’s hand subconsciously rose to his cheek, gap mouthed in shock.

“What the hell, you can’t do that!”

Corwin laughed. “Why not? Who’s gonna stop him - the bull you let go?”

Brody’s head snapped to look at him, eyes sharp. “I didn't do nothing of the sort and we all know it.”

Another surprise strike, this one a fist to the gut, put him in the dust. Not only did pain bloom out of him like blood seeping from a wound, the punch also shocked his lungs into freezing up. For a moment he couldn’t breath, until he suddenly could and inhaled nothing but dry prairie dust. He sputtered and coughed, trying to both jumpstart his breathing and get the dust out of his mouth.

Before he could really come back to his senses, a hand gripped in his hair and wrenched his head up to look in Dylan’s eyes. “Stupid git - we all know. We know you didn’t do shit, but you’re still here aren’t you? You still sleep in the barn with the others? You can’t leave, can’t do shit about this. I can do whatever the hell I want to you.”

He accentuated that least sentiment with a sharp tug. Brody swallowed heavily. Corwin was just watching, a few feet away with his arms crossed in an amused yet bored stance. They hadn’t been particularly nice before, but Brody never imagined they’d get to this level of cartoonishly mean towards him.

“I think he still doesn’t get it. Maybe just grind in that point nice and hard so it can stick in his damn skull.”

Brody let his eyes slip closed and decided he hated Corwin.

Dylan was more than happy to oblige, letting go of Brody’s head suddenly and giving him a hard kick in his already throbbing stomach. It was a miracle he didn’t vomit up his breakfast, curling up to try and protect himself to a third hit to the gut. That didn’t protect him with Dylan stamped down on his shoulder with the heel of his boot. Not hard enough to cause real injury, but enough damage.

Something in Brody told him to fight back, but a much louder voice screamed he needed to run. He scrambled up, trying to get to his feet but a punch directly in his face sent him to the ground with the world slipping sideways and a high pitched tone swallowing the world.

When he was finally able to shake it off, someone else had joined the group and was talking intently with Dylan. Nik.

“- with Mr. Hooper so he’ll be leaving in a quarter hour.”

Dylan looked annoyed, Corwin was already walking away. As he turned to leave, Dylan shoved Nik into the barn by his shoulder. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing Glasses. Just lucky this time.”

Nik only sighed, straightening his clothes and glasses with a brush of his hands before leaning down to take Brody’s hand. “Come one, let’s get you patched up.”

Hilton wasn’t in the barn, presumably doing some chore somewhere. Nik lead him back to their bunkroom, guiding Brody to sit on a cot while he went to his cabinet of concoctions.

“Is he, is he always like that?” Brody asked, a little shocked at the nervousness in his own voice. He wasn’t usually this scared, at least not this easily, but the last month had pushed him so far out of his element he didn’t feel like he knew anything anymore. Not even about himself.

He saw Nik’s back hike up in a cringe. “Yes,” he responded after a moment, turning around with a small brown bottle, a washcloth in a bowl of water and some bandages. “It might seem counter intuitive, but it’s usually better to just give him the reaction he wants rather than fight it. He doesn't really get bored, per say, but he’ll move on once he’s got what he wants.”

Brody swallowed. It made sense, in a strange kind of way. It was the same thing that had to be done with the Boss. Give him what he wants and then eventually it’ll all go away. At least when Brody got Mason off his back Dylan would be gone too.

Nik cleaned the dust and blood from his face then carefully from the split on his brow. He hadn’t noticed it at the moment, but Brody sure felt the sting of the open places now. The spots were a bit small for full bandages, so Nik cut small pieces to press on for now, at least to keep them covered until they started to heal.

He offered up the small dark jar. “This will help with bruises. Do you need help?”

Brody nearly turned him down but there wasn’t a good reason to. He’d be sleeping three feet away, Nik would see how stiffly he moved, how sore he would be. He nodded.

While Nik fused over the horrible growing bruise on his shoulder, Brody found himself zoning out. This was his life for now.

He didn’t want it.

#Raccoon ranch #multiple whumpers tw #beating tw #woah it's been a long time since i wrote anything and had to tag

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