#STRAIGHT TO CLOWN JAIL

[bizarrelittlemew]

[wordy-little-witch]

Unhinged hit take but imagine for a moment all the Doflamingo/Crocodile ideas being a thing, and Doffy finds out IN JAIL about Cross Guild. Mans is losing his SHIT okay, his ex left him for a CLOWN.

CROCODILE turned him and his business proposals down but partnered with THE CLOWN?!

Oh his brain cells are Gucci and Prada, bedazzled and flexed, he knows math and THIS? This math ain't mathing, buster.

So he escapes.

The hows are unimportant and also I don't care enough to flesh it out. It just Happens, okay?

So Doffy is free, no sock needed, and he beelines STRAIGHT to Karai Bari.

Well. He swings by a high end boutique first because he's bougie like that, but then he is THERE, okay?

So Doffy shows up and causes a Ruckus. Cross Guild Poly has, by this point, NOT been established, but Croc and Mihawk both have FEELINGS. Buggy is oblivious.

Doffy sees Croc having A Feeling and Assumes. After all, Crocodile rarely expresses any kind of emotion unless it's on purpose to this is completely mathing now. The clown must have SOMETHING going for him.

So Doffy Seduces The Clown. It's to prove a point, prove he's BETTER than Buggy, he's COOLER and more FASHIONABLE and he wears HEELS so obviously he is the best choice. He needs to understand his enemy.

Only... Buggy's actually pretty damn cute.

And also makes... really good noises. He's so responsive. And sensitive. And he's a masochist to boot, right up Doffy's ally. AND this clown has some SERIOUS stamina, holy stars.

The night ends with Doffy, exhausted, staring into space with Buggy curled up, head on his chest and covered in bite marks. He is still processing.

The next day, he wakes up and he finds Buggy in the little kitchenette, in an oversized shirt and thigh highs, making pancakes and bacon. The clown turns to him, smiles, greets him, offers coffee. Doffy gets breakfast and is left still kinda reeling even as Buggy babbles happily, shirt slipping off his shoulder slightly and revealing a bite mark there. The former warlord looks away, indignant at the tingling warmth if a blush, of all things, on his face.

He hates to admit that he can maybe see the appeal now.

But he still thinks the clown is using some kind of weird fucking clown magic. He's NEVER gotten so worked up after a transactional lay before.

Crocodile and Mihawk meanwhile are FROTHING because they each had a 37 step plan to woo the clown and the flamingo bastard jut swooped in out of prison and bedded him. That isn't fair. That's the opposite of fair.

Seeing Buggy limping the next day and Doffy still kinda out if it simply makes the two dark haired men want to claw out someone's eyes.

Buggy is a special brand of oblivious because he thought Doffy just wanted good time once, no biggie, he gets it. So when the feathered man sticks around, he's cool with it. He doesn't really get why the others are all weird about it though.

He also doesn't get why their ominous threats and off putting vibes have intensified either, but he's good at rolling with the punches.

He tells Shanks a much during their monthly i-don't-miss-you-i-hate-you-how-have-you-been talks.

Shanks tells him they like him.

He hangs up on the redhead. Then he calls Shaks again just to hang up once more, this time with passion.

Everyone's suffering.

[mjrtaurus]

At some point early in the relationship-building, Crocodile realized "oh my god, this man is stupid" He's the leader of the biggest revolutionary organization on the planet and extremely intelligent... but he is also so stupid. One encounter with Garp proved to him that the stupid was genetic.

And when he finally learned that Straw Hat kid was their son, who he already knew was stupid, he had to face the fact that his intellect was no much for those damn Monkey D chromosomes.

It's the Will of D just in general. The "D" meaning "Dumbass" in a lot of cases.

Crocodile- also a D, but a fairly unassuming one- knows that not all of it comes from Dragon and Garp... He's ambitious. He's looking for weapons of mass destruction and the One Piece. And in order to do so, he's bumping shoulders with a clown that continously fails his way up the ladder three rungs higher than him, and a walking nuke of a goth who would rather tend his garden than have it all.

He attacked Whitebeard in his prime, thinking fog would give him the upper hand. And yes he was young then, but still well old enough to know that was a terrible idea.

Then he caught feelings for the tall, dark, and handsome moron who saved his idiot ass, fucked around with him and found out, then caught even MORE feelings after he abruptly left said moron with their newborn child.

Then he lived a fourth of his life conducting elaborate schemes to build himself a crime ring intent on inciting a civil war, but got Scooby-Doo'd straight to jail by a kid in flip-flops. Then the same kid in flip-flops that Scooby-Doo'd him straight to jail broke him out of jail.

And then he attacks Whitebeard AGAIN, but this time in BROAD DAYLIGHT only to get stopped by the SAME DAMN KID IN FLIP-FLOPS, and THEN IT TURNS OUT THAT THE KID IN FLIP-FLOPS THAT SCOOBY-DOO'D HIS ASS STRAIGHT TO JAIL IS THE KID HE DITCHED WITH THE MORON HE FUCKED AROUND WITH AND CAUGHT FEELINGS FOR.

Luffy doesn't get it from the Monkey D. half of the family alone. Not by a long shot. Baba's a bit if a dumbass himself.

[empressofmankind]

On My Silent Days

I Miss You A Little Louder

[Crocodile x female!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 7k / 15 pages

A/N: Writing this has been my whole life the past 5 days, as anyone who has frequented my Dash recently can attest. I am obsessed with their chemistry.

Technically, this is part of 'The Show Must Go On'. You don't have to read it, but I recommend it. You'll get to know Shivs and her helter-skelter relationship with Buggy which sits as the background to this whole ordeal.

You see, this is like, Arabaste arch at the earliest - Cross Guild era more likely. By then, Shivs and Bugs have rollercoastered through so much bullshit and they've come out rock solid on the other side somehow. Clown keeps failing up, even with this relationship. Sir Crocodile finds the whole thing insulting, to say the least. And seems to think it is one well-placed remark away from utterly crumbling. Jealous ex, whomst? My dude, you fucked that up yourself. Repeatedly. You had more chances than you have fingers. Chemistry aside, this is absolutely a desert of his own making.

What else do you need to know? Shivs is only 2 or 3 years younger than Buggy (i.e. my age, come sue me), but Crocodile is 5 years older than the clown. So, she's in her mid 30s, he's in his mid 40s. She originally met him when he was maybe 28? Do the math. Oh yes, and for those less familiar with the Cross Guild era: our favourite clown has managed to accidentally become the lauded public face of what is actually Mihawk and Crocodile's venture. Understandably, the ex-warlords are a little miffed by this and spend decent amounts of time physically abusing poor Buggy.

Shivs' absolutely flawless plan is basically swapping sexual favours with her ex for get-out-of-jail-free cards for the clown.

My girl literally barging in here telling Croc: "I'll take ur cock if u leave my clown alone."

Yes. That's it. That's the plot.

She almost had him, too. Arguably, she had him the entire time. And then he gdamn snapped her from the pond edge like an unwitting gazelle in the last minute. Cuz we all - her included - forgot who we're dealing with for 14.5 pages straight. APPARENTLY.

screams into a pillow

Tag(s): Oh? Ok. Sexual favours! Is she fucking her boss? No, but he always makes it feel that way. Is she fucking her ex? Yes. Are they technically still married? Maybe. Blow jobs? Deep throat. Size kink? 100%. Filthy language. Graphic sex. Soft dom? Power bottom? I am on the fence. Little girl vibes on the margins, like, he tries. She too sassy and sooner a brat. Oh, orgasm denial! Big time. Humiliation? A little bit. Stretching? Yes. Moar size kink. Choking? Big yes. Spoiling? Also yes. She deserves nice things. Power imbalance? Yes. In whose direction? It kind of flip-flops. Did I need to spend so many words on their smoking and his cigars? Probably not, but it scratched an itch. With them, it counts as foreplay; I am sure. You know you're doing well when he takes the damn thing outta his mouth. World class banter, too. If I may say so myself. But really, the bottom line is that it's just oral and PIV dressed up real fancy.

ON MY SILENT DAYS 

I MISS YOU A LITTLE LOUDER

The double doors were as tall and foreboding as Shivs remembered. All bevelled hardwood and delicate gilding. She stood before them, gazing up. In the dead centre sat a brass knocker shaped like a bananawani's head, polished to a sheen. 

Knocking was for people with appointments, and waiting wasn't something she planned on doing here ever again. She put her palms against the cold, expensive wood and pushed the massive doors open as if breaking a siege. They swung on smooth hinges despite their weight and struck the marbled walls with resounding booms.

The opulent office beyond was exactly as she remembered. Marquina walls, fishbone parquet floors, blackwood furniture. The taxidermied juvenile bananawani set in the wall vitrine behind his desk was new. What had been there before? A map? A ship? No, a stone. An artefact of some kind riddled in curious glyphs.

Crocodile glanced up from his papers and the irritation flitting across his scarred face in the split second before he realised who'd dared barge in, set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. How often had she seen someone shrivel into a desiccated husk straight after that look?

Shivs held his pale gaze, set her jaw and strode into his office as if down the plank. 

The creak of leather as he leaned back in his seat. “You know I've killed people for less.”

She paused in front of his outrageous statement piece of a desk. She put her hands in the pockets of her baggy pants and forced her shoulders to unclench, her stance to relax. If Buggy’s dumb luck had managed to rub off on her in these past months, then now would be the time for it to start working for her.

“Lucky I am not ‘people’,” she said as she crossed her fingers in her pocket. 

Amusement squinted his eyes as the corner of his mouth twitched up behind his cigar. “No, you're not,” he said as he rose.

Shivs was not short. Not by any regular definition of the word. Buggy was only a head taller than her. She hadn't forgotten how tall Crocodile was, not really. And yet, as he came around his desk and towards her, there appeared to be no end to him as he approached. If she reached up, stretched her arm, she could nick his cigar. But only just.

"Do you still smoke?" he said as he stopped well within her personal space, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his gaze. He took a flat, brass case from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to her. She remembered it. Remembered the exquisite taste of the narrow cigarillos in it.

"No."

"Liar." His gaze flicked down along his cigar at her. "You smell of cigarettes, doll."

"I have changed my ways."

Humour flitted under his gravelly voice. "For the worse." 

Shivs pursed her lips. "It's an expensive lifestyle when they don't come free with a goodnight kiss."

"Hah." 

The bark of laughter actually reached his eyes, crinkling their crow's feet for a moment. He held out the case to her again. "You poor thing. I do support charities, you know."

She took it this time and flipped it open. The rich waft of tobacco and sweet Goji berries greeted her as if no time had passed at all. Might as well enjoy her sojourn back to hell while she could.

She put one of the thin cigarillos between her lips and let him light it. Watched the firelight catch and reflect in his rings. Took a moment to savour the blend, rich and sweet as polished Beli.

They were very good.

Always had been.

Shivs took the cigarillo from between her lips and blew the smoke up in rings through a slow smile. They almost reached him.

Crocodile leaned down through the cloudy hoops to pluck the shoulder of her red-and-white striped sweater between thumb and index finger, a judgemental 'hmph' escaping around his cigar.

She enjoyed the expensive smoke and his fascination while it lasted. Maybe, just maybe, this would be enough? Letting him treat her like a doll badly in need of a better dress up? He liked to spoil, always had. Now, more than ever, he had the means to take it to completely nonsensical levels. Her ego could take it, if that was the price of leaving Bugs alone.

Shivs indicated his everything with an up and down wave of her free hand. "No way to afford the good stuff on a waiter's salary."

He let go of the fabric to brush his thumb across the smear of grease paint near the collar, staining his skin and the gold of his ring red.

"Or a dud's haul." 

He hooked the silk kerchief from his vest's breast pocket and wiped his hand. She followed the length of his arm up to his face.

"The entertainment isn't half bad."

“Yes.” He chewed the butt of his cigar, derision twitching his thin lips as he tucked the kerchief into an inside pocket of his coat. “His pathetic antics can be mildly amusing.”

Shivs’ grip on the cigarillo tightened, but she smiled pleasantly. “I like it when a man can make me laugh,” she said, pointing at him with the thin smoke between her fingers. “Even if at his own expense.”

She frowned at his broad back when he turned away from her without a witty reply, retreating to the button tufted camelback near them.

“You're not here for a social call,” Crocodile stated as he sat down, putting his arms along the sofa's curved back. Something flitted past his pale eyes, but it was gone so fast Shivs couldn't nail it. “What do you want, doll?” 

Shivs rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, pursing her lips as if preparing to drive a hard bargain. She intended to seem casual, unconcerned. But her palms were slick with sweat and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. She filled her mouth with smoke, tasting the rich flavours. Savouring them before blowing it out in small puffs through her pursed lips.

"I want you to leave him be," she said, extinguishing the cigarillo in his ashtray.

Crocodile shifted and put his shin across his knee. Her gaze flicked down and she saw him take note. 

"And if I do?"

She held his gaze. One breath, two breaths, moved her jaw but didn't form the words. She wanted him to leave Buggy alone. Even if that meant taking his… beating, instead.

He blew out smoke through his nose, waiting patiently for her answer. The hint of a smile lingered as his pale eyes held hers from above the waterline of his scar. And in that moment, he reminded her so strongly of a lurking crocodile. Watching. Waiting. Biding its time to strike. It sent a shiver down her spine, and not entirely out of fear.

Shivs pursed her lips, steeled her emotions, checked her resolve. I'll do it for you, Bugs. It's a deal I know he won't refuse.

She met his intense gaze head on, then dropped hers slowly to his crotch once more. Allowed it to linger there, before looking back up.

He chewed the butt of his cigar and beckoned her. "You never could fit all of me down that skilled throat of yours." 

Shivs watched him uncross his legs as she approached. She trailed her fingertips along his clothed thighs before leaning on them. It brought her face level with his and she deliberately took a moment to breathe in his secondhand smoke. 

“Want to judge if that hasn't changed for the worse?” she whispered against his lips as she savoured the distinct flavours that made up his private blend. 

Strong muscles flexed and relaxed under her palms, and she presumed that to mean ‘yes’. 

She ran her hands down his muscular thighs, taking in their shape until her palms rested on his knees. His breathing changed, she could tell from the way he exhaled smoke. Denser palls, deeper breaths. No resistance as she pushed his knees apart far enough to kneel between them.

Brushing her fingertips across his overstated belt buckle, she smiled to herself. Some things never changed. She slipped the tooled tip through the frame, her movements slow and deliberate as she listened for the subtle shifts in his breathing. She loosened the prong with a sharp tug on the strap, using more force than was strictly necessary. An undercurrent of need laced the grunt that escaped him in response. 

Shivs reached into his pants with both hands, catching his gaze as she drew his penis out, feeling it swell against her palms. She made a noise of appreciation as she let her hands slide down his shaft. His pale eyes hunting after hers when she broke their gaze to look at her fingers fitting around the base. She had not forgotten how tall this part of him was.

Leaning forward, she trailed teasing kisses from halfway down his shaft towards the tip. I’ve swallowed swords longer than this, and dicks aren’t even sharp, she thought as she flicked her tongue past the rim, playful-like. Length was only half the problem though, she knew that perfectly well.

She put a hand on his thigh and leaned on it as she ran the flat of her tongue across the head and took him into her mouth, suckling the tip. Inched his cock further with deliberately slow, short bobs, tilting her head to ensure he’d catch every movement of her lips as they worked around him. Need strained his stoic expression when she stole a glance up. A twitch of his eyebrows when the tip bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked down and drew his cock back out, watched it twitch and his grip tighten on the backrest as she felt his thigh flex under her palm.

She took him into her mouth again and ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock. Relaxed her neck and let it slip further than before, teasing at the entrance to her throat. Nudging it, stretching it just a bit before sucking down and drawing him back out, tasting precum for her efforts.

The frustrated groan that rumbled up from somewhere deep within his broad chest sent sparks flying down her spine. This is gonna work, she thought as he reached for her head, petted her hair while she teased the precum from him with fleet, wet kisses.

“Stop messing around and swallow my cock, sweetheart,” Crocodile grunted, pale eyes alight with hunger. The petting stopped, fingers tangling into the hair at the back of her neck instead. It was like the twitch on the line that told a fisherman to react.

Shivs glanced up along his hard shaft, and reeled him in: 

“Yes, Sir.”

The horny groan that drew from him, before she’d even begun to take him again, settled comfortably in her bones. Gotcha, she thought.

Shivs breathed slow, deep, steady breaths as she slid his cock along her tongue, lining him up. The head pushed past the entrance of her throat and she switched to shallow breaths through her nose. The grunts and huffs that escaped him every time she swallowed were inhuman and she needed more of it.

She slid his cock further down, felt his thighs tremble as she did. The closer she got, the more his musk pervaded every stifled breath she managed around his thick cock. It was a heavy, heady scent and she shifted her position to press her thighs together. He didn’t notice.

She stroked his legs, ran her hands up to his hips as she leaned closer, and took him deeper still. His fingers were fisted painfully tight into her hair, but his large hand followed her without force or resistance, resting heavily against the back of her neck.

Almost. 

Almost there.

And then the tip of her nose bumped against his flat stomach. She could hardly smirk with his dick this far down her throat but counted on the crinkle of her eyes to work for her as she caught his gaze and slowly raised her hands, palms up. She didn’t care that they trembled. 

Look. No hands, motherfucker.

Crocodile grinned down at her through a huff of smoke, cigar dangling between his teeth. She thought it looked a little worse for wear.

“The pathetic clown doesn’t know what a dirty little slut you are, does he?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice thick with lust as he petted the back of her neck. “Giving such sweet head to save his sorry hide.” He ran his fingers along her throat as if trying to feel how far down his cock had gone. “I always knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“Now,” he added as he huffed out a pall of smoke and she felt cool metal sliding around the back of her neck, barring a retreat. “I need my cock-hungry doll to make me feel good.”

Shivs dropped her hands to his hips, gripping the folds of hard muscle there for support. She slid her tongue between her bottom lip and the underside of his cock, making sloppy little noises with the slightest bob of her head. Even those small movements pressed the round curve of his hook into the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine that made her squeeze her thighs together. She didn’t bother to try and hide it.

His large hand joined his hook, strong fingers digging into the back of her head, twisting into the hair there and holding her put as his thick cock twitched so far down her throat she didn’t even know anymore where precisely she felt it. She worked her throat around him, drawing rumbling moans from him that pitched.

“Ah -nngh- you feel so good, doll. So. Damn perfect.” His thighs tensed under her arms, flexing his hips with short jerks. She closed her eyes as she swallowed around him, frowning with effort. His breathy grunts as he lightly fucked her throat made her pussy throb.

Suddenly, his grip tightened like a vice and he shoved her nose-first against his hard, trembling stomach muscles, stealing her breath. Her eyes flew open as her throat strained and cramped, swallowing around him in reflex.

 “Fuck, honey. Ah---! Yes, yes.” The satisfied, drawn-out moan as Crocodile spilled his hot cum down her throat reverberated through the quiet office. 

Her fingers dug around his hips, tears jumping into her eyes as she gagged, feeling cum come up around his cock as stars danced into her vision. His grip weakened as he rode out his orgasm and she pulled back before he was quite done pumping cum. Shivs swallowed it mindlessly while coming up for air. His dick slid wetly out of her throat and mouth, streaks of cum connecting them before they broke.

She glanced up from his softening cock, glistening with her saliva all the way to the hilt. He’d tilted his head back, held his cigar nowhere near his mouth as he came down from his orgasm with deep, steadying breaths that expanded his wide chest and flared his nostrils.

He straightened with a lazy groan and a roll of his broad shoulders. 

Shivs met his gaze, panting.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Crocodile said, his gravelly voice breathy as he reached for her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. The gold of his ring was smooth where his fingertip felt rough, the warm touch grounding her fried senses. It lingered at her eyepatch, lightly brushing the faded leather. “The things we let people do to our faces…”

He hooked the kerchief from his pocket and dabbed her mouth. She reached for his hand with both of hers, touching the back of it, taking the cloth. She watched him watch her as she cleaned her face.

“Don’t you have a new pretty thing? Miss Face-of-the-Casino in her cute kimono?” Shivs forced her tone to be casual, edged with light mockery, maybe. It was stupid that it’d stung when she’d seen the younger woman. An irrational, petty feeling. An old pain. And, none of her business, at any rate.

The dismissive look that flitted past his pale eyes was rather unexpected. “An investment, nothing more.”

“She’s pretty,” Shivs said. Perhaps, part of the sting had been the fact that Miss Pretty had not responded to her the way women did when they were into other women.

Crocodile looked at his cigar before putting it back in his mouth. “That she is.”

Their gazes crossed and she pursed her lips. He reached for her jaw, fingertips grazing its curve. Then leaned down and pressed a peck against her frown. She sat up and chased after him as he took another draw from his cigar, stole the aromatic smoke from him as she teased her tongue into his mouth. He blew it out through his nose, taking the cigar from his mouth as he caught the back of her neck with his hook and took control of the kiss.

“You can have one if you like, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart, indicating his cigar. 

And lord, if she wasn't tempted.

“You share ‘em these days?”

His derisive ‘hmph’ made her smirk as she rose to her feet. 

“What about Miss Pretty? She enjoy your… cigars?” Shivs said, and noticed she’d gotten his cum all over Buggy’s sweater. Shit.

Crocodile glanced at her, pale eyes searching. “I prefer making deals with those who have something of value to offer, doll.”

Shivs put her hands in her pockets and rocked up on the balls of her feet with a mildly overacted grin. “Oh, it’s a deal then? You’ll play nice?”

“My compliance doesn’t come that cheap,” he said through a huff of smoke.

She crooked an eyebrow, risking a hint of ridicule in her tone. “Cheap? And here I was, thinking I have a unique skill up for offer.”

He actually cracked a smile as he flicked the butt of his cigar into the general direction of his desk and ashtray. Then beckoned her with hook and hand. 

“Come here, doll.”

It would have been too easy.

She sauntered back to him and linked her fingers with his, curling the others around his hook, letting him draw her into his lap, straddling his thighs. He shifted so his cock was between them, pressing against her clothed cunt.

“What else will it cost me?” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders, lightly riding against him. Every rub along his dick pulsed pleasure up her spine, and she hadn’t failed to notice it was already stiffening again.

He stoked the tip of his hook along her cheek as his large hand took in the shape of her firm butt, guiding her movement. “I want to know if your tight pussy can take all of me now, too.”

“Here, on a couch?” she said as she slipped her fingertips under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. She trailed her hands down the revers of his vest, grabbed hold of them as she dry humped against him. “I thought you said you weren’t cheap?”

The bark of laughter that drew from him shouldn’t make her smile the way it did.

He pressed a kiss against it. 

“I wouldn’t dare, honey,” Crocodile said as he gathered her up in his arms and rose smoothly from the couch, leaving his coat behind. He strode across his study and through the adjacent library to the expansive bedroom beyond. She remembered the sweeping view from its curving window wall and the sea of nightlights twinkling far below.

Instead of depositing her on his spacious bed, he set her down on the plush rug beside it. And motioned up and down her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “Take those rags off.”

Not my rags, Shivs thought as she kicked her boots aside, removed her baggy pants and grabbed the edge of the sweater. She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t like them, and she hadn’t bothered wearing one this evening either.

Fingertips traced the lacy sides of her underwear while she had the sweater pulled over her head.

“You still have those.”

He sounded…not surprised. Curious, maybe?

“No reason to get rid of perfectly fine underwear,” she said as she freed herself from the sweater, finding he’d already undressed.

“They can stay on,” he said as she folded the sweater, her hand lingering on it before she turned to him.

“For now?”

A smile twitched the corner of his lips. 

“Here, doll.” He held something out to her, cream-coloured and neatly folded. It seemed small and delicate in his large hand.

When she took it, the fabric cascaded into a surprisingly classy, mid-thigh negligee of shimmering silk. The top was constructed from intricately detailed lace with tiny bananawani worked into the pattern.

“Pretty,” she said as she brushed a finger across the delicate lace. She put it on and it fit her so neatly it felt like a second skin. An outrageously luxurious second skin for the silk felt soft as sin and the lace light as air. She turned a full circle on her tiptoe, overacting it just a little. She knew he liked that.

“Looks good on you.” He reached for her head, combing his fingers through her tangled red hair, tucking stray bangs behind the strip of her eyepatch. “I’d never let you get so grimy.”

“Can’t be a dirty little slut if you wash me.”

“Hah.” Crocodile leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, just like that. “Come here before I shove my cock down your throat again to shut you up.”

“Don’t tempt me- ah!”

Her reply cut off when he suddenly let go, dropping her into his bed. And that was quite the distance, even if the landing was soft. He immediately climbed on top of her, caging her with his much larger body. She spread her legs, accommodating his wider hips as he reached for her breast. His thumb traced circles around her nipple through the fine lace, stiffening at his touch.

“Like what you see?”

“Always have, doll,” he rumbled against her collarbone. Though no longer smoking, she could still smell it on him. Would be able to pick it out of a crowd. Subtle tones that reminded her of burnt coffee, dry glass and cinnamon, mingling with the faint wax smell of his hair gel and heavier citric notes of his cologne.

A small gasp escaped her when he brushed the lace down and kissed her hard nipple, taking it into his mouth and licking the sensitive tip. She felt the curve of his hook press against her hip, hitching up the silk as his hand slipped between her thighs. Strong, confident fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and outer labia underneath. It ignited old desires, flickering life into fires she’d thought snuffed out.

His rough fingers traced the delicate lace, undulating with its curling, stylised waves. Her breath caught when they found the edge along the crease of her thigh. A mewl on her lips as he dipped them under the smooth fabric, fingertips grazing the warm, sensitive skin of her outer labia and sending sparkles of anticipation up her spine. The delicate fabric stretched with an alarming whimper from the seams as strong digits brushed between her folds, not quite able to reach. He grunted against her breast at the soaked pussy he found there.

She felt him slip the hook under the edge, warm from resting against her hip. The thought of him pulling her panties down with it lit up every nerve in the vague vicinity of her hips. Her eyes snapped open at the sharp jerk, the sudden cry of fabric tearing at the seam between silk and lace. 

Shivs made a noise, nose wrinkling. Those were the nicest-.

“I’ll get you new ones,” Crocodile promised against the curve of her breast, his gaze down as he hooked the fabric from her hips. The hunger in his pale eyes as he looked at her pussy made her spread her legs further. He leaned down to caress her labia and press a light kiss against them that made her throb, thinking about his tongue.

A breathy huff escaped Shivs when he slid his middle finger between her folds instead, running slow circles around her inner labia. Gathering the moisture there before teasing them apart and brushing across her clenching entrance. Pleasure sizzled up her spine when he pressed it inside, mapping her inner walls and finding all the right places far too easily. If he kept this up, she was going to come very soon.

He switched to her other breast, teasing the sensitive skin as he inserted a second finger. “I seem to remember you liked getting your little hole stretched,” he rumbled against her nipple, and spread his large fingers apart. She moaned at the strength in them, the ease with which they pried her open. It sent twinges of sweet, sweet pressure blazing through the haze of need fogging her thoughts.

She reached down to his hand, stroke the back of it. Found his thumb and guided it against her clit with a needy moan. Her thighs trembled as he massaged it firmly, pushed his fingers all the way in, then spread them as he pulled out. She felt his knuckles and the hard edges of his rings press into her labia when he pushed them back in but she didn’t mind, kind of liked it. She reached a hand for his shoulder, neck, grabbing hold of the tout muscle there as she arched her back towards him. His pace was torturously slow and she was loving it.

Shivs let out a drawn out whine when he stopped, pulled at his neck, wrist, knowing perfectly well neither will give an inch but trying, anyway. She tried to clench her thighs, rub them together, nurse the need smouldering in her veins, but his knees were between hers and she writhed in vain.

Crocodile shifted unto his elbow, bunching the silk further up her hips while taking his hard dick in hand. A hoarse whisper close to her ear as he guided the head against her slick pussy: “Won’t you beg for my cock, sweetheart?”

“I need to feel your cock in me,” Shivs said as she caught his hungry gaze. “Feel it fill me, stretch me.”

He grunted with barely contained need, she could see it in the straining of his back as she reached for his thick neck, folding her hands behind it. Felt it in the way his hips twitched as he pressed his shaft through her wet folds, coating it with her juices.

“Am I not a good girl, sir?”

“Yes, you are.”

Shivs moaned loudly when he entered her. Whined at the delicious pressure as he pushed deeper into her soaking wet pussy, stretching her around him. She clung to his neck, mewling with incoherent need. Her hand went to his hair, messing it up but not caring. Neither did he.

“Ah -ngh- fuck,” Crocodile grunted, his breath hot against her neck.

Shivs held onto him for dear life as she arched against his hard body, savoured the sharp pleasure of him stretching her cramping, soaking cunt wide enough to plough through. He’d not bottomed out yet. If she could take him, she’d have him wrapped around her finger.

“You’re. Fuck. As tight. As I remember. Sweetheart,” Crocodile groaned into her neck, his gravelly voice strained to the point of being near unintelligible. It was getting tougher and tougher to push further through her tight, contracting walls.

“Almost there,” Shivs whispered as she brushed a stray bang of dark hair from his eyes.

The noise he made in response was inhuman and she drank it in as she closed her eyes, spread her legs further to accommodate his hips and relaxed every muscle she could still feel. A whimper bubbled from her lips when he pushed up against something deep within her that twitched a pleasure so sharp up her spine it sat right next to pain. 

“Fuck, yes,” he ground out as his hips pressed flush against hers, his breath hot, heavy pants buffeting against the crook of her neck. “Feels. So good.”

He managed to push himself up onto his elbow, satisfaction animating his whole face as he looked at their joined hips, her soft labia squashed against his pubes. Shivs whimpered, his movement nudging tight bursts of pleasure deep within her. 

“I knew you could do it, doll.” His tone was thick with lust, laboured from his heavy breathing. He gently brushed a strand of sweat-slick red hair from her forehead with his hook, looking so proud. “You like getting your little cunt stuffed, don’t you?"

Shivs gave a sharp nod, struggling to form words.

“I know you do, honey,” he whispered as he rolled his hips against hers, not truly thrusting. She reached for his face with trembling hands, stroking his hard jaw. He grunted under his breath with each push and she pressed pecks against the puffs of hot breath until he responded. Until he chased her tongue back into her own mouth and pressed her head back into the pillow with the desperate force of his kiss, demanding entrance with his tongue that she was more than willing to give. 

“That's all you g-got?” she whispered through a moan and a bated breath when they broke their kiss for want of air. “I b-barely feel it.”

“Ah? You want more, doll?” Crocodile pulled out with a grunt, just a fraction, before shoving himself back inside her to the hilt, making her mewl with pleasure through clenched teeth as his cock bottomed out and up against her cervix. “Shall I take you back to my study? Pound you bend over my desk, like I used to?”

Shivs whined into his mouth as she latched onto him again, arms tightening around his thick neck as her cunt squeezed around his cock from the pleasure coiling around her spine. If he took her from behind, he could probably push deeper still. Oh, she’d be in trouble.

“Who’s cheap now, hrm?” A breathy hum into her ear as the obscene slap of his hips against hers filled his bedroom. She whined in need, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain making her tremble against him. “Do you want to be my little whore again? My pretty fuck slut to sit on my cock whenever and wherever I want?”

All she could do was whine and roll her hips to meet his steady thrusts. Fingers digging into the taut muscles across his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked her deeper than she’d ever felt a man, even him. She whimpered, the heady mix of mind numbing pleasure laced with an edge of pain all but overwhelming her. Especially when he thrust just right, shoving his cock against a sensitive spot so deep inside her she didn’t even know she had it.

“I missed my. Pretty cocksleeve,” Crocodile grunted into her ear. “The. Only. Little slut that can take me -hng- properly.”

“Fuck me harder,” Shivs whispered, hands massaging his broad shoulders. He groaned with effort, she could feel the bridled strength in the muscles working under her palms. His pace picked up, and so did the strain in his body. Every thrust stretched her so deliciously, stimulating every needy nerve inside of her. 

“Do it,” she moaned wantonly as his thrusts started to push her up on the bed, her weight no match against his strength. “I c-can take it.”

“Ah - hng- you’re. Going to. Make me cum, doll,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her in place as he jerked his thrusts up against her. Her mind was unravelling. The only thing she could think about was his cock filling her, burning up every single nerve she had as needy pleasure coiled in her belly. She wanted him to cum. She really did.

When he paused, she struggled to comprehend why. Her gaze found his. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his mouth slack to accommodate the deep breaths heaving his chest. He was barely holding still, strain thrumming through every inch of his large frame above her.

“Does. My pretty little thing want. Cum as deep in her tight pussy. As her pretty throat?”

She whined, pulled at his neck with both hands. “Y-yes.”

“Beg. For it.”

“P-please,” she whimpered as she tried to make him move, weakly rolled her hips towards him. 

“Please what?”

“Please, s-sir.”

The noise he uttered in response to that settled somewhere at the primal base of her brain. She wanted, no, needed, to hear it again.

“Please, sir. Pound my needy hole like I deserve,” she mewled into his ear, savouring the way his breath hitched, that noise came again. 

“Damnit, doll,” Crocodile grunted through clenched teeth as he picked up a pace that became quickly rougher, slightly erratic. He locked his hold on her shoulder, broad fingers digging around her thin muscles and narrow bones, keeping her put as he pounded into her soaking, cramping cunt. “Gonna fuck you so full, you'll be leaking my cum well into tomorrow.”

“Please, please, pleaaasse,” she whined and clenched around him as he fucked her into the sinfully soft matrass with long, deep strokes that shoved his cock shamelessly up against her cervix to fit it all in. She wanted, needed, to cum around it, desperate for release. “Fuck me full of cum, sir. Stuff my tight cunny like you did my slutty mouth.”

“I -ngh- will, honey. I am,” he ground out, barely intelligible as his pace lost all semblance of rhythm and he bucked against her in the grip of his orgasm’s first throes.

“Oh! Yes, yes,” she moaned as he shoved his throbbing cock as far as she could take it, cumming against the deepest corner of her cunt as she shuddered around his cock with unfulfilled need. He stayed buried inside her as he came down, breath erratic before steadying, slowing. She whimpered in need, clenching around his softening cock. She hadn’t been able to cum around it like she wanted. It was too thick to cramp enough for a proper orgasm. She knew that, but had thought maybe this time…

He knew it, too. Remembered it.

“You’re still my pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her parted lips. “Unable to cum around a cock like a big girl.”

She made a small noise that he swallowed in a kiss.

They stayed that way until her breathing steadied as well. Then he sat up and gathered her into his lap. She held onto him, her cheek against his collarbone. Not quite ready yet to let go.

“You look parched, doll,” Crocodile said as he brushed a bang from her eyes.

Shivs peered up at him. “I would not say ‘no’ to a sweet white.”

A noise escaped him that could have been a fond one as he lifted her off his lap and rose. The sound of his retreating footsteps filled the quiet. He’d gone to his study, judging by the distance. Shivs got up as well and shimmied the negligee down. Despite everything, she did not feel like taking it off. It felt nice against her flushed skin.

She sauntered to the curved window wall and found the view precisely as she remembered it. A sea of nightlights twinkled across the city below, mirroring the deep blue, star-speckled sky above. The moon hung low, waning from view. It wasn’t long before he returned. She heard him uncork a bottle behind her and fill two glasses. The snap and swoosh of his lighter. The familiar scent of his cigar preceding him as he came to stand beside her, still naked.

He held a glass out to her, a cigarillo clamped against its curve. The wine was a deep bronze instead of the pale yellow usual to white wines. She accepted the glass and smoke, gaze lingering on the narrow slot through its delicate stem. It allowed him to hold them with his hook without slipping. She glanced sideways and up at him. A fond smile twitched her lips when she noticed his hair was neater than before. He’d evidently taken a comb to it for a hot second.

Shivs put the cigarillo in her mouth and turned to find his lighter lying on the nightstand beside the wine bottle, and a corkscrew with its split cork still attached. She glanced at the label as she lit the cigarillo. It read ‘1811’ in large, proud capitals, and a name in a curving script she couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. She would not be able to afford it, anyway.

Taking a sip, she returned to his side. The wine was sweet, indeed. With hints of lime, honey, saffron. She made herself comfortable against him, her bum resting on his thigh. “It’s a nice view,” she said as she blew out a thin pall of smoke.

He glanced down at her and their gazes crossed as he idly stroked her hip. “It is.”

Shivs leaned into his touch, sipping the wine. It really was, very good.

“Clever scheme you’ve gotten up to, in order to save the loser’s sorry hide,” Crocodile remarked as he blew a smoke ring against the narrow cloud she’d just produced. “But it has a flaw.”

Shivs let her weight shift from his thigh to his loin, only the soft silk between them. “You sure?”

A self-satisfied smile twitched behind his cigar as he gave her hip a squeeze. “None of this will work on Dracule.”

Only because I don’t have a penis, she thought, but no matter. They may have both grown older, but Croki was still fundamentally the same man she’d left years ago. And that would work for her, she was sure of it. Inevitably, Mihawk would pick on Bugs. She would take it upon herself to get irritatingly upset about it. Mihawk would no doubt insult her next, and Sir Self-Satisified here would take it personally by-proxy and shut him up. It’d be a win.

“I’ll think of something,” Shivs said as she blew a thin pall through his smoke ring, dispersing it.

He glanced at her, amused. “He’s partial to good wine, at least.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

She nipped her own wine, idly rubbing her thighs together. Pleasure skulked around the base of her spine, denied but not forgotten. She made a little noise against her glass when she felt his hand move up her thigh, his thumb brush under the edge of the negligee.

“Still needy?” he said as he bunched up the fine silk, rubbing his middle and ring finger against her clit in slow circles. It sent lazy sparks of pleasure straight to her brain. Drawing a shuddering whimper from her as he dipped his middle finger between her folds.

“Cum for me, honey,” Crocodile rumbled as he lightly ran the tip of his finger along the inner rim of her vagina, then teased the sensitive spot further down. Shivs gasped through her moan as the briefest shudder of an orgasm stole over her like a thief in the night. It was not enough, not nearly enough.

“N-need more,” she said as she put the glass down with a wobble. Reached for his large hand when he stopped, withdrew, tugging it back. Bunching two of his fingers together, of a mind to stick them into herself if he didn't.

“Come to our board meeting tomorrow. You’ll come sit with me and I’ll take good care of your needy little hole.” He shook her fussy touch and caught her pubes, massaging his palm firmly against her soft cunt, pressing her bum against his cock. “You can ride my palm like you used to, and I’ll make you cum on my fingers till your tight pussy is sore from cramping around them.”

Shivs wasn’t particularly keen on doing any of this semi-publically, least of all anywhere Bugs would be. Though she feared she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this, as easily as she’d talked herself into it.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll leave the pathetic clown alone,” Crocodile promised as he stroked her flat belly with the rounding of his hook. “Can’t beat the loser if my hand is occupied with something sweeter, hm?”

Shit. She had to tell Bugs. Forewarned, forearmed, and all that. She turned in his hold, his hand moving to her butt instead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said, but he caught her wrist when she took a step back.

“Ah, ah,” he admonished as he stopped her, pulled her with him, back into bed. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“I, what? Why?” 

Suddenly, she wanted to leave as he gathered her against him, nestling her into his lap and chest, spooning his large body around her like a cage. She wanted to leave, wanted to go to Buggy and cry when he guided his cock back inside her still moist pussy with an incriminating noise and a satisfied rumble. She’d meant to turn this trick and tell Buggy about it. Tell him her plan to manipulate the ex-warlord to leave him alone, to leave them alone. Tell him it had worked. 

Shivs pushed herself on her elbow but Crocodile pulled her back down to him.

“Stay,” he said as he hooked the fluffy underblanket and silk cover sheets about them, his arm around her waist, hand on her hip.

“Why.” She had to tell Buggy, but now she couldn’t. She’d left after they’d gone to bed. She hadn’t told him yet. He didn’t know. He’d wake up alone.

Crocodile stroked the midline of her belly with the tip of his hook, rippling the cream-coloured silk as it moved up her chest, counting to the fifth rib. The one behind which her heart sat.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

A quiet sob escaped her.

"Ssh, sleep, honey," Crocodile whispered into her hair, fingertips stroking her hip. “I’ll take good care of you tomorrow.”

~

Honourary mention tags: @smut-goblin , @ruledbyproblematique , @gingernut1314 , @swirlsofblackandwhite

(N/A): To anyone reading & making it to the end. Writing this has consumed me the past days. I want to know what you think! What did you like? What made you laugh? Was there something specific you noticed? Something you now wonder about? I am 100% open to lengthy comments and blow by blows, ngl. I am obsessed with this.

If you want for more, I jotted down some of my own thoughts regarding this debacle. I may also be plotting another stint. Because Impel Down, do you understand me??

[turquoisephoenix]

You mentioned that you think after Grubba gets out of jail he has an uneasy friendship with Prince Mush. Do you think you could elaborate on that some? Like what do their interactions look like? Just curious as to how you think a murderer and a revived victim of his would act as friends

Okay, this one might be a little long, takes a bit of setting up, and involves some headcanons.

And I will emphasize that the relationship is "uneasy" and they're not exactly inviting each other to watch movies or anything. Grubba should be thankful that Prince Mush even wants to speak to him and give him occasional updates on how the Glitz Pit is running, at his request, while he's sitting in jail and later under house arrest (albeit a cozy house arrest at his tacky rodeo clown of a home, but he has to do it all with an ankle monitor).

Prince Mush is just something of a saint, very mellow, and extremely forgiving. He's just a bit of a wide-eyed shonen protagonist fueled by the power of friendship.

To explain why Prince Mush is so understanding where Grubba was coming from with his most terrible actions, both Prince Mush and Grubba have similar backstories - they were originally from poor backgrounds but then climbed their way to the top to become champion fighters.

This leads me to believe that Prince Mush grew up as a fan of Grubba. Especially since I made Grubba the type of fighter that had a LOT of merchandising and star appeal thanks to some rather aggressive contracts by his fight promoter/agent, who swooped in and saw a business opportunity. Prince Mush had secondhand toys of Grubba that they found in the local Rogueport goodwill because the store shelves were just flooded with them. Prince Mush bought some of his T-shirts and had a few of his toys.

And Prince Mush and Grubba got along for a good several years! Prince Mush had a very cushy Champion's life and his family got to see all of his matches and he was very comfortable! Grubba made sure to NOT treat Prince Mush the way he was treated in the past. Prince Mush had health benefits and vacation plans. Everything was good! Grubba was a good maybe-a-father-figure, maybe-just-an-older-friend type of cool old dude.

Until, one night, Prince Mush alerted Grubba to a strange machine that he found underneath the Glitz Pit Arena while he was training late one night. After Grubba asked him if he told anyone else (Prince Mush thankfully said no, so no killing spree for Grub), Prince Mush lead him to the strange machine and asked him "who could do such a thing?"

Grubba responded by hitting him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. They didn't even have an epic battle between champion and monster; instead Grubba panicked, acted like a cornered rat, and then immediately had to cover up the resulting disappearance.

Cut to a few more years later where Prince Mush is suddenly waking up in the Glitz Pit Arena and his own sister is telling him how he straight up died and his blood was on Grubba's hands, all while a little Italian plumber is waving at him and going "wahoo".

So in short, Prince Mush doesn't remember his own death and has to get all of his information secondhand from other people who were way way more traumatized about the events.

And Mush, being Mush...can't bring himself to hate Grubba.

At least, not totally.

Jolene hates Grubba with every fiber of her being and is very much a "if I see you outside of prison, it's on sight, mfer" type of person. Rawk Hawk has really mixed feelings about Grubba and oscillates between rage-filled hatred and survivor's guilt where he second-guesses all the nice things Grubba ever did for him, knowing that he could've been drained and shoved in a dirty old attic. He even visited Grubba in jail and had a shouting match with him as both of them had to unpack a lot of mental baggage. Rawk Hawk's change of heart is fueled by the fact that Rawk Hawk has grown self-conscious and scared of becoming as lost as his mentor.

Prince Mush? When he pieces the story together - the young star exploited at a young age so afraid of aging, so afraid of giving up his own business, that he'll use a magic demon artifact to render himself immortal at the cost of his own humanity and becomes a paranoid monster that can't get close to anyone without hurting or killing them...

He just finds Grubba sad.

And when he tells Grubba to his face while he's sitting in the prison cell, Grubba wishes he got the anger instead.

Having his whole empire crumble and having to live with the consequences of his actions just renders him a pathetic, broken man. He needed wellness checks during his first week of prison just to make sure he didn't do anything drastic. (being away from the Crystal Star that made him young and strong for the first time in 40 years and realizing that he was gonna wither and turn into an old man made him just a touch suicidal for a little while)

On top of all of this, once it becomes more common knowledge that the Crystal Stars were connected to the Shadow Queen, Grubba isn't even sure how much of his actions were his own or if he was Corrupted By the Amulet. Everyone - including him - believes he was mostly in control, but it sure doesn't feel good either way having to second-guess just how much of the past few decades were of your own free will and how much of it was demonic influence and you were just Golluming your way into murder because the shiny rock needed more blood for the blood god.

TTYD is very much a game that ends on the idea of forgiveness for the villains. I'm not going to have Prince Mush stay with Grubba ala Vivian hanging out with her shitty sister Beldam, but Prince Mush seems like a cool enough dude to at least extend a hand and say "yeah you killed me, but now you're in a position where you can't harm anyone else ever again and since you're a paranoid and have like 60 mental illnesses, I'm not going to kick you while you're down and instead tell you that the Glitz Pit isn't on fire and that my sister Jolene is doing a GREAT job".

And eventually Grubba...feels more at peace with himself than he's been in over 40 years.

TL;DR, Prince Mush forges a shaky relationship with his own murderer because his murderer's mental health was impacted by both demonic magic and the exploitation of Hollywood stardom but things are actually kinda looking up? Prince Mush actually wants Grubba to get better, Jolene wants Grubba to choke and perish, and Rawk Hawk is unsure whether he sides with Mush or Jolene.

[stinkypeanutbutter]

silly headcanons pt 2‼️

here we go. . Yay

Whenever they go out, Ashlyn had to wear like a TON of sunscreen because she’s pale af (same)

Scratch what I said last time, Aiden actually likes spiders, but is scared of grasshoppers. Why? Because they keep jumping on him and towards him because they don’t mind their stupid business and are so big for no reason. Ashlyn agrees with this statement

Aiden is so scared of failing his parents, as they seem to have high expectations with him and he’s worried that whatever he does may not be good enough or doesn’t fit their criteria, even if his parents try and reassure him it’s fine to mess up something, referring to his past

Aiden and Taylor totally listen to vocaloid

Beach time? Ashlyn is hiding in the shade on her phone, occasionally going out to swim. . But goes back because the water is freakishly cold. Ben is making sand castles (with or without that little cousin I forgot her name) Logan is collecting shells and cool objects for the sand castle and observation purposes (nerd) Taylor and Tyler are splashing eachother and seeing who can swim faster (Tyler refuses to play but does anyway for her) And Aiden is catching sand crabs, swimming, and climbing the rocky areas to find creatures or lost items to show everyone else.

birthdays? Aiden buys the best gifts cause he rich and seems to know everyone the most because he’s intrusive. Ashlyn buys pretty good ones as well becuase of her hearing everything everywhere. Logan isn’t the best and struggles but pulls through well in the end. Ben makes his own birthday gifts from scratch like a pro!! Taylor and Tyler team up, and usually do well (especially with secret Santa)

Aiden never actually went trick or treating before (bozo) because of his constant traveling, so the most he could and would ever do is buy candy the night of and watch something alone. The buds got together for a day and all went trick or treating for Aidens sake and he loved it. (He scared many kids that day because he went as a clown lmao)

Aiden does graffiti art les go!!!! (Got in trouble once)

Aiden ALMOST went to jail, but it was just some old lady complaining about how he looked because he kept smiling at her and thought he was being cocky (he was)

Ben listens to metal (you just take a headphone from him and you hear screaming and a heavy instrumental 💀)

both Ashlyn and Ben also listen to orchestral music, Taylor occasionally because it appeases her mind.

Horror movies? Ben dos NOT like them, but watches for the others sake. Logan feels the same way, and covers his face anytime a jumpscare is coming up (fails each time, ends up seeing every jumpscare and screams, jumps into the arms of the nearest person) Ashlyn doesn’t get scared easily with them, but only when she can’t tell if one’s gonna happen or not. Tyler likes them, but doesn’t admit to being scared at times. Taylor and Aiden love them, actually talking about what parts they liked and what they could have done better on.

since people are doing these, here:

Bi Ashlyn, considers herself a girl, but also as nothing sometimes (idk the word)

Pan Aiden, doesn’t care who you are, just be able to tolerate him.

Tyler is a homophobic homosexual

Logan is bi, no major preferences.

Ben is a straight and ace

Taylor is ace and demi romantic

love how most people seemed to agree with Taylor and Ben being ace

Ashlyn and Taylor have girls nights sometimes, usually with Taylor taking a ton of photos and Ashlyn getting bombarded with questions from Aiden and Tyler (mostly Aiden)

TW!! SH

When it came to Aiden being a alone in his room and him moving around a lot, it was hard for him to feel anything besides loneliness, so he took to SH for a while, mostly on his upper thighs because he felt no one would see them as easily. Even now he starts it up again when he’s super upset and had really no way to get his frustration out, didn’t help with the constant mask he put up. He feels better, but every now and then his emotions slip and he starts it up again, going further without realizing. He wears a strong foundation to at least cover some of them up, but someone noticed. Who? That’s up for you to decide.

ok good bye thanks for reading!!11!! 😹🌝🤺

[subaquatic0mess]

izzy headcanons

go white boy

Finally answering this ask!! Izzy hc let's goo!!! (Hope these make any sense it's so late from where I'm from)

Izzy clings/climbs onto the people she trustes most for fun. But she also carries them if needed. Like we saw her do with Noah in WT This means that sometimes Izzy basically jumps onto Team Escope to greet them.

Oh and Eva and Izzy sometimes fight together to train. Noah doesn't understand why.

Izzy isn't as crazy as she seems. Yes she's crazy but that doesn't mean she's not self-aware or stupid.

She's actually incredibly smart she just chooses to embrace her more ballistic side and let the others figure things out by themselves.

Izzy knows sign language and can communicate flawlessly in sign language aswell. The reason why is unknown.

Her and Chef fought a lot off camera during the show and when she discovered Noah was Chris's PA (because ofcourse she did) she used it as an excuse to torment the Chef even more.

Izzy cannot cook. At all. She once burned Eva's kitchen during a sleepover trying to boil pasta.

During total drama she actually increased her crazy persona as she used it alot for her advantage.

She's canonicaly smarter than Noah so sometimes when they hang out Izzy shares a bunch of conspiracy theories with him but somehow makes convincing arguments?

When she's bored or the mood is awkward she would just drop the most random facts ever. "Did you know a jellyfish's mouth is also its anus?" It completely baffles Owen every time.

Izzy definitely had a creepypasta phase.

Both Noah and Eva have bailed Izzy out of jail.

She knows the whole fnaf lore by heart. And she info dumps it on her friends.

She knows Spanish. And she knew about Alejandro but didn't say anything to see all the drama happening.

She made bracelets for all of team Escope with magnets inside so when they touch hands or high five (four??) they're bracelets connect. The problem with that is she used some oddly strong magnets so sometimes it becomes more of an inconvenience.

Her hair is naturally curly but she can't be bothered to to maintain it and that's why is mostly straight at the tip while the end is still curly. (Not projecting or anything oops)

Izzy loves Scary movies! (She loves the saw franchise but in all honesty she prefers psychological horror more)

She cried watching legs batman.

She dropped out of college and she almost went to MIT but chose a college closer to Canada instead. And also because she didn't want to follow specifically any of the paths they offered.

She's an expert at breaking in into things. Locks, houses, cars, etc... To a point Noah and Eva don't even bother lending Izzy a house key as they know she will always find a way in.

She is incredibly overprotective of the people she truly cares about. Which aren't any as she may like some people but perhaps not trust them.

She has trust issues. She only trusts people who can view her beyond just a crazy psychotic girl. Who actually care enough to truly know her. Which again aren't many.

She has incredible reflexes and is incredibly agile.

She adores circuses and clowns despite what others tell her. It (1 and 2) just fueled her love for them even more.

She gives Noah books to read. Except they aren't normal books.

She has incredibly sharp teeth. And she likes to bite people alot. It's basically her love language.

She can always predict the plot of the movie they are about to watch. So now she's not allowed to comment on new movies team escope watches during movie night.

Sometimes she has random urges to commit violence which make her jolt up. (Who doesn't?)

She followed an acting career and did eventually write the book she said she was in WT.

She lobes the original story of Frankenstein and even dressed up as his monster for half once. Oddly enough she relates to it. Which made Noah hug her since he found it concerning. She almost cried because of that. "Noah do you know how it feels to only be seen as the nut job? As the crazy one with no feelings? It fucking sucks."

She isn't the best at expressing sorrow or sadness but Noah and Eva help.

I might make a part 2 of Izzy hc idk. But this is it for now!!!

[mememanufactorum]

Badger’s Best of 2023 sentence starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED

All lines are from this video created by TheRussianBadger.

"I ACTUALLY EARNED ONE, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

"Those noises that were coming out of you were inhuman."

"You ever had a hotdog burger before?"

"You did NOT just come up with that word."

"I need to know if this was a riff or if this was an actual meal."

"I heard the word 'hotdurger' unprovoked."

"Dudes with nut allergies when I hit them in the head with a brick."

"YOU DIDN'T JUJU ON THE FUCKIN' BEAT."

"I don't misinform. I just lie."

"Did you just punch someone for all their coins?"

"I don't know, just blow 'em all up, I don't care."

"I just fucken hate you."

"STOP BLINDING ME, YOU ASSHOLE! I CAN'T SEE, YOU GOBLIN!"

"To the charge of wire fraud, you are pleading 'nuh-uh'?"

"Your honor, shut the fuck up. You wasn't even there."

"This conversation sounds like four raccoons with internet access."

"You wanna know how I got these GAINS?"

"I was driving through upstate New York and I saw a Tesla with the license plate 'I'M HIM'."

"That license plate made me laugh so hard that I walked up to his window and put a 12-gauge slug in his chest."

"You got me fucked up bro, I can't believe you would question if I'm real."

"Here's a picture of my nuts."

"Those are gonna be my dying words to my wife: I just want you to know… PS3 has no games."

"Chimichangas are a CIA psyop."

"If you put me in the cockpit of an apache I will Kevin Gates, put my hand on the dashboard, and start it."

"Boy I love having something with none of the same consistency as anything else in my sandwich in my sandwich."

"Dude I definitely love biting into my sandwich and then leaving with an entire pickle slice in my mouth."

"Own a musket for home defense since that's what the founding fathers intended."

"I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grapeshot. Tally ho, lads!"

"Well it's just straight up racism, and it's not even like an occasional racism, it's like, this is full blast firehose racism."

"It's the floodgate of racism! The Big Gulp of racism!"

"This shit will turn your pacemaker off."

"I point blanked that shit with a panzerfaust."

"Me going to Arby's after losing a $50,000 Marvel vs Capcom tournament."

"Me walking to the fridge to get my five day old caesar salad."

"Fresh caesar salad, already not a good start. Five days, dog."

"How does that predator missile work? Oh, you just go NYOOOOOOM."

"This Nyquil beatin' my ass, that is not THAT funny but, like, I can't stop laughing!"

"Y'all just verbally buzzered that man."

"I stole your girl, I stole your whip, I stole your shoes."

"You cannot land a KC-135 in a Kroger parking lot."

"As someone who lives in Tennessee, you can land a KC-135 in a Kroger parking lot."

"That's how I'm going to describe the size of our parking lots to Europeans without internet connections. We can land that in our parking lots."

"I call that my main menu tax."

"Bro, I can't hail a cab in Detroit for shit, bro."

"First bullet, Toyota Tacoma be like 'I ain't hear NOTHING. Y'all hear something?' Second bullet? Legalize nuclear bombs."

"Your voice literally has to wait in line to be heard."

"I'm gonna bomb your trailer park."

"Don't take advice from the dead guys."

"Smoking on that diabolical arch-necromancer pack. Those who don't ball would do well to steer clear."

"Do you know the word 'whermst'?"

"It's like where and for what purpose and why. Location, reason, background context in one word: Whermst."

"Did he just prefire me? Bro, go to jail."

"That's your first option for recourse?"

"Alcatraz, we ain't talking county jail. You're getting in there with the dementors."

"Stop calling the 3D avatar mommy."

"How do they fit this many flares in an airplane? It makes no sense. It's like a clown car but for fireworks."

"I'M SCREAMING ABOUT IT MOTHERFUCKER, STOP!"

"Hey what's up guys? I just bought a 1911 at a Red Lobster parking lot, AMA."

"Just kill me. Just take me to heaven. Just… Take me out of this reality."

"Heaven? BITCH, YOU GOING TO HELL!"

"Hey, fuckin' imagine getting friendly fired by a .50 BMG. Imagine."

"My client pleads oopsie-daisy."

"I'm sorry that your dog is not going to college now."

"Ay you ain't on your grind, son. You ain't on your bag."

"No one's Batman impression is bad."

"You sound like you're in an alley with a trench coat, what the fuck?"

"Oh my God, his Scooby-Doo villain is coming out again."

"Are you repairing our conversation?"

"Why is 'slime' such a funny yet affectionate nickname?"

"Get the fuck out of our shower."

"Why can't we just share the shower?"

"Enemy. Man. 300 meters. North. Fast. Fast. Fast."

"Fun fact: The TSA allows you to bring a live lobster through security."

"I myself have brought 432 lobsters through security."

"THAT'S THE FOURTH TIME YOU'VE SHOT ME!"

"SHUT UP! YOU JUST HAPPEN TO BE WHERE MY BULLETS ARE!"

"All units, be advised: My stummy hurt."

"Homie got the dog in him with that one."

"Pulled pork? Yeah I cranked my hog today too."

"How blessed are we that I can just log on to YouTube and the first video I see is 'Master Chief teaches you how to change the oil on your 2006 Nissan Murano'?"

"That went from 'funny' to 'demonitized'."

"If your state has 90 degree corners, you probably eat corn syrup on your pancakes."

"Why do you always say 'theoretically' and it's not at all theoretical?"

"You have the world's WORST EVERYTHING."

"My boy got the object permanence of a frog."

"That boy cooked the most rare steak."

"I gotta use the bathroom or something, bro. I gotta go to college or something. I can't be with these motherfuckers."

"He went behind the tree and my brain was like 'WHERE'D HE GO?'"

"Somebody buy me a stat reset, PLEASE!"

"You should not be legally allowed to commit crimes if you're listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd."

"I'm on my Super Mario Sunshine shit."

"Are you barking at me?"

"You might wanna be a LITTLE shidded right now."

"I'd trust Gengar with my kid."

"I didn't know he was chill like that."

"No. We are not putting a controller around somebody's neck and twisting it. It's a wireless controller, you can't even do that."

"And 45 is just a caliber."

"Ranch was made by California to keep the Midwest fat because they're scared of our power."

"I refuse to believe that Kranch is real."

"Alignment charts are for the governable. I grow corn in my yard."

"Tell me the name of God you fungal piece of shit."

"I'm pretty sure that was the most sacrilegious shit I've heard in my life."

"I will pass that to the higher ups – parentheses: I do not give a shit."

"This is getting a little too fast for my brain."

"You fuckers are at a pie eating contest and I'm just like, nah son. Free pie."

"I'm about to hit 'em with the Glock-no-jutsu, on God, bro."

"Regretting a free purchase is crazy."

"THEY'RE JUST POLYGONS!"

"I've had people call me things that I wouldn't even dare say to myself."

"Take five 5-Hour Energies and enter the forbidden hour of the day."

"Those responses do not surprise me at all. I definitely expected that kind of language."

"Bro, it's goof-a-clock right now."

"The moon already isn't real."

"You think I can't kill a fuckin' banana?"

"That was a little too much rage for a potassium transportation device. I didn't mean it. You full of electrolytes."

"I'm gonna eat pizza because I like the sauce on the pizza with the cheese on the pizza."

"I could not have killed him any harder."

"Don't make me make you say some out of pocket shit."

"I've been saying out of pocket shit all day."

"By sheer artillery alone, we should have tunneled our way to Atlantis by now."

"Yo, I don't know the Tom & Jerry lore, fuck you!"

"What if you wanted to go to heaven but God said to you, 'WE'RE GONNA TRY THIS WEEK'S CRUMBL COOKIE MENU'?"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE TINNITUS, WHAT?"

"Is this like punching someone in the dark? Is it like a legal loophole?"

"There's only one of me in all the world. I am one in a krillion."

"If you're a chest sleeper, you're just a fuckin' psychopath, alright?"

[odinsblog]

Jimmy Dore, Glenn Greenwald, The Young TERFs, Briahna Joy Gray, Matt Taibbi and many many other prominent “leftists” have turned the corner and are straight up regurgitating right wing talking points—from antivaxxer & anti-masking bullshit, to pro-TERF bullshit, to thinly veiled antisemitism, to pro-Trump, to pro-Putin & anti-Ukrainian propaganda. Practically indistinguishable from Republicans.

By the way, without even getting into Putin’s time as a KGB agent and all of the political adversaries and journalists who he has jailed or had poisoned or assassinated, Putin has ALSO unleashed some extremely harsh anti-LGBTQ laws in Russia. It’s not funny and it’s not anything to be belittled and made light of.

SN: And before any tankies try to derail this by pointing out how homophobic America is, nobody is denying that fact. But if homophobia and transphobia is wrong when America does it, then it’s also wrong when Russian does it. Be consistent.

Honestly, I cannot take anyone seriously if they take a blathering clown like Jimmy Dore seriously. It’s no different than taking financial advice from someone who gets their financial advice from Grimace.

[whiteravengreywolf]

A Big Mandalorian Wedding - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! The long awaited sequel to "I Can Wait For You at the Bottom" is up and as the title implies, it is a wedding :) Here is the beginning and if you want to read the whole story, the link will be at the end!

Sabine had sat in front of the mirror, back ramrod straight, for what felt like hours. Her wedding suit wasn’t the most comfortable suit she’d ever worn, but her mother had insisted on something regal, worthy of this wedding of the century. It was a bit too gray for her taste, though the gold pattern on the satin mostly made up for it. She’d been allowed to paint the only beskar on her, her pauldrons, however she’d liked. One was orange and green in a checkered pattern. The other was dark red, with a circular centipede curling up on itself.

Handmaids fluttered around her like a bunch of butterflies. They had done her make up, though she’d had to rein them in to a dark eyeshadow and pale lipstick, or else they might have gone all out and made her look like a clown. They had brushed her short hair and pinned a crown of silver with flowers knotted into the metal. Now that she was ready, they still lingered around her, as if afraid that all their hard work would melt off her and they would have only a few minutes to start again.

Sabine glanced at the clock in the corner of the Palace room. She wanted to slouch but her suit wouldn’t allow it. Half an hour left before she could make her way to the temple. She wanted to see Shin, wanted to know what she was wearing, how she was feeling, just see her. They’d barely had the chance to see each other when the Mandalorian delegation had arrived to Coruscant for the wedding. Sabine had been almost immediately spirited away to her own wing of the Palace. Her mother kept telling her that it was for good luck, but she didn’t believe a bit of it. She thought her mother and King Baylan were afraid that if they saw each other they would elope, wasting hundreds of thousands of credits on this wedding of the century.

A knock came at the door and Sabine sighed with relief, thinking that her time in handmaid’s jail was over.

“Come in.”

When the door open, her father stepped inside. He was wearing a suit similar to hers; the Clan Wren colors. His silver crown of Prince Consort was embedded with yellow diamonds. For his touch of color, he had painted his own pocket square, a spectrum of colors folded neatly.

“Wow…” he said as he saw her. “You look beautiful.”

He leaned over her, hands on her shoulders as he placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Sabine smiled.

“Thanks, dad. Where’s mom? Are we ready to go?”

“Your mom is dealing with some last-minute problem. She’ll be here shortly.”

A small frown appeared on Sabine’s forehead.

“Problem? What problem?”

[basicbatboys]

Request 32 Part 4

this took all my bones. i have no more bones. im boneless. i really hope you guys like this part because i really struggled with it. part 5 will come once my bones grow back. look forward to a heartwarming conversation and some fluff

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

Stall. The only word on your mind was stall. 

The Joker once again pointed the crowbar at the ground and moved toward the cell doors to do god knows what to you. 

“Wait!” You yelled. “Wait.” You repeated, a little softer this time. And the crazy thing was- he did. He paused. 

“What?” He snapped, his hand hovering inches from the bars. 

“I-I just don’t understand. The Red Hood and I were never involved and even if we had been, it’s been a very long time since I was Havoc, why are you doing this now?” The questions were valid and he seemed to be listening to what you were saying instead of heading straight for the kill. The Joker liked to play with his toys, you knew that, and you were definitely exploiting it. 

His hand retreated and he began to pace again, tossing the crowbar from hand to hand and then just tapping it against his palm. “Well, it’s simple, really. Even Ralph over here could understand.” He gestured with the bar toward a random goon who seemed to get upset and look at his feet. 

“You see, as I said, you are hard to track down. When you left as Havoc, we couldn’t find you anywhere in the city. It’s like you never left your hideout.” 

You winced. Ouch. That was true. You even got your groceries delivered. You worked from home. You literally hadn’t left in three years. Except for… Oh, fuck.

“But one night, one night!” He started laughing as he spoke like he was telling a joke and couldn’t wait for the punchline. “One night…” He continued, gaining his composure, “You finally left. Now, it is of course my business when a pretty girl takes a long drive away from the city so one of my brilliant clowns had the idea to follow you. That’s when he saw you burning your suit. My, how poetic you can be. Tell me, was it cathartic? I have some pieces that are so last season that could use a good inferno!” He laughed again. 

You looked down at your feet as he did. How could you have been so stupid? This was all too much for you. You had caused your own death and it was mere feet, mere moments away. 

“And the Red Hood? How did you know about us?” Slowly, your eyes found the Joker again.

Again, a sick cackle raked across the walls of the jail. The Joker began to jump and clap. “Oh! Oh, boys, did you hear her!” He ran up to the cell bars and gripped them with both hands, the crowbar clanking against the metal of the bars. “You see, that was the final piece. Anyone could see the connection between the night Havoc died and the night Red Hood flew off the handle but I had nothing to prove it! Until now!” He backed away and laughed again, turning to his goons and pointing at you from behind him. “Did you hear? Did you hear what she said? She admitted it!” His goons nodded excitedly. “Oh…” He turned slowly and grinned. “You admitted it.”

His face darkened and the change of face was nothing short of startling. “Enough of playtime. Your jokes are funny, but this will be hilarious. It’s time.”

He swung open the bars of the cage and stood before you. A hand reached out and caressed your cheek with the bar and you winced at the touch. The cold metal backed away and came back down on you with a sickening crack. Your ears began to ring and you couldn’t hear anything. He swung again, this time hitting your shoulder. You felt something snap. Another blow to your head and your consciousness began to fade. 

You struggled to keep your eyes open and as you did you saw a familiar face.

“Dad?” You asked, more alert now. He was standing in front of you, holding a gun. 

You looked at it and you began to cry and scream and struggle, trying to fight out of your bondage. “Please! Not again, Dad, I can’t keep killing people. Please.” 

You realized you were somewhere else now. You were little again, around 8. You knew this because you were wearing your favorite pink dress, the one your mother had embroidered flowers into before she passed. 

Your father was there and a man was laying on the ground, crying and begging to be let go. 

“Go ahead.” Your dad said, pushing you forward. “Go ahead and kill him. If you kill him, we can go home and watch movies. I’ll let you pick, but you have to kill him first.”

You looked up at the man towering above you. You loved your dad so much. He was all you had left. You knew the drill. You had to kill this man or else he wouldn’t speak to you for another week. 

----------

You awoke in a dark room, darker wet pools of what is clearly your own blood covering the floor and shining in the dim moonlight. Your left eye was pretty well-caked shut, but your right could open wide enough to take in your surroundings. You were still in the cell the Joker threw you into. You were pretty sure you had a few broken ribs, and you were certain you had a sprained left shoulder. Groaning, you roll into a seated position, becoming instantly aware of how lightheaded you were.

Falling in and out of consciousness, faceless bodies flash into your vision. The echoing voice of your father boomed, "Kill him. Kill him, and we'll go eat dinner. Kill him, then we'll go to the park." Your head was spinning. Your father's voice deepens- "Havoc. Kill him, or you won't be leaving the house for the next week. You have to do your duty, Havoc. Peace cannot reign. Not until you're done doing its dirty work. Now, do as I say, and KILL HIM." 

The words crescendoed into a stabbing headache, and you opened your eyes, or, rather, the one that would open. You're not a child anymore, you reminded yourself. You weren’t there anymore. All of these memories had been tucked away for a long time, choosing the worst time to finally present themselves. This was no place for a revelation and yet you had one. 

Every memory you had of your childhood had become tainted in this cell. Your brain had picked and chosen what to allow you to remember, probably to preserve your own life. It all came into the light now- your violence had once been so senseless but you had grown up in it. When you are born in chaos, you cannot live unless you feel yourself dying like you used to. You killed because it was correlated with receiving love. Had you known that was the motive, you wouldn’t have traveled so far down this path. You would have told Jason. You would have begged for help. But you forgot it all. The mind plays funny tricks on time and its stories.  

Dear old Dad is long gone. Right now, you wish by your own hand. 

You brought yourself back to reality, back to the situation at hand. Adrenaline was pushing you forward, keeping you alive when you should surely just lay back down and die here. But nobody is coming to save you. No one knew where you were. No one even knew you were gone. It was all up to you. 

You remembered the days when you would swing off of rooftops and run like a racehorse. The days when you were Havoc, unpredictable, and badass. Even though you're a much softer and much more injured Havoc, perhaps muscle memory would be enough to escape. You'd be damned if you went through this entire bullshit life and all that pain just to die from the most cliche and repetitive villain in Gotham. No, you would live in peace and prove to your father that you were much more than who he made you into. 

Clearing your throat, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the bars of the cage. Clearing it again, you rasped, "Hey. Ralph. Care to help a pretty lady out?" You tried to smile but it came out as more of a bloody grimace. 

Ralph turned, taking a look at you. Up and down, up and down. "I ain't see no pretty lady." He sniffed, turning back around. In this short exchange, you zoned in on one missable, but vital piece of information; Ralph has finely manicured nails. 

You edged closer, shoulders to bars- and said, "Yeah, I'm not looking my best right now. But you sure are! I've got to see your cuticle routine!" 

Now, nobody could've prepared you for Ralph. He whipped around, fell to his knees, and exploded into excited tears. He fanned his nails at you through the bars, a slurry of words falling from his lips as he detailed whatever creams and tools got him through the week. Sadly, nobody could've prepared Ralph for you either.

You lashed out, quick as a whip, and grabbed his shoulders to slam his skull into the cage bars. He crumpled to his feet, and you whispered, "Sorry, Ralph. You really do have great hygiene, for a goon." 

The effort it took to take Ralph out was enough to make your head spin again. You were fading fast. You needed to get out of here and find anyone willing to take you to a hospital. You rifled around Ralph's pockets, hoping. Your hand grasped around something hard and plastic and you pulled it out. Lovely, a water gun. You set it aside and dug your hand back in. A rubber ducky. A very long handkerchief. This pocket was useless to you and the other one was inaccessible. 

You pulled out the handkerchief and as you did, something tumbled out. A key. 

The thrill of escape was enough to get you on your feet and you began to fiddle with the lock from the inside of the cell. It was too far to reach but you kept stretching until- 

Click. 

You were free. 

“I should put you back in that cell.” A voice called from down the hall. 

You squinted to focus on who it was. Lo and behold, the Red Hood. 

“Oh god,” You breathed, relief flooding your words. “Oh god.” You repeated as you noticed the gun trained on your chest. 

“I don’t want to fight. And even if I did, I couldn’t.” You clarified. Quickly, you realized this was no time for talking and that your knees were about to give out. “I need-”

You couldn’t finish speaking as you collapsed to the ground. You were breathing so shallow, you couldn’t pull in enough air to fill your lungs. 

As you fell, Jason ran toward you and knelt beside you. He looked around and froze, his eyes trained on something in the corner of the room. You craned your neck and saw what he was looking at- a bloody crowbar. 

Before you were left unconscious, you felt Jason lift you into his arms. 

It was a sight to see. The Red Hood carrying a half-dead Havoc through the streets of Gotham. He called for backup and soon the entire BatCrew was focused on saving your life. A warm rag from Nightwing, stitches from Red Robin, a sling from Batman, Robin stabilizing your neck, Batgirl calling Alfred to prepare the cave for your arrival. 

“You’re sure about this?” Nightwing asked Red Hood. 

“I’m sure.” He said, standing off to the side unable to look at what had happened to you. 

---------

Again, you came to life. You were tucked into a bed you didn’t recognize in a place you didn’t know. The events of that night came flooding back to you and gave you a pounding headache. All things considered, you felt pretty okay and you were proud of yourself for surviving. You sat up with a wince, feeling pain shoot through your abdomen and your arms. 

That’s when you remembered- you had seen Jason. 

As if he knew you were thinking about him, he walked into the room. 

“Oh.” He said, pausing in the doorway. “You’re up.”

You nodded, saying nothing. What could you have said? There was too much to think of. 

He walked into the room and sat in a chair across from you. “I’m glad.” He said, looking down at his hands. 

You nodded again and opened your mouth to speak. A million thoughts rushed to the front of your head and you scrambled to pick just one to say. 

“Thank you.” You chose. 

He shrugged. “You were dying. I thought you were going to.” 

You looked down at the floor.

“Jason, I-”

He shook his head. “Please don’t.” 

“No.” You said forcefully. “Listen to me for once! Jason, I realized something while the Joker was beating the shit out of me. I know why I did what I did, I know what’s wrong with me. It was my dad, I’ve been killing people since I was 8!” 

He looked up at you suddenly, a grimace spreading across his face. “What?” He asked. “How does that…?”

You shook your head. “Fucking listen.”

He did. You continued. 

“My dad used to make me kill people to get him to spend time with him. He used to make me do it because he knew no one would hurt a little girl. I think it deeply ruined the way I view love and the way I go about getting it. I’ve been trying to fix this and I don’t want you back I just want to be a person. I told you I was sick, I told you there was something wrong with me. Jesus Jason, it’s so fucking unfair. You get to kill people and I don’t? I’m evil when I do it but you’re somehow a good guy?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t… Your dad?”

You stared at him open-mouthed. He was so useless. This was useless. 

“What don’t you understand? Yes. I must have blocked it all out. You don’t know how hard this is for me. I-”

Before you could finish, Jason stood and wrapped you in a gentle hug. You began to sob. “He would- He, he ruined me!”

Jason held you and let you cry and scream and let everything out. And you did. It was beautiful. You didn’t expect Jason to know what to say because how could anyone know what to say after what you’d just told him?

You imagined what you must look like right now, bruised and swollen and disgusting. How could he treat you with such compassion after everything you’d been through? You were so tired of it all. No one could heal the wounds you had. 

“Stay here for a while.” He whispered. “The family will be here for you. You can start to get back on your feet. We’ll talk later, okay?” 

You nodded. He stood to leave and rested a hand on your knee. “I’m glad you’re okay. I missed you.”

With a final glance, Jason left the room. You sat and stared, unsure of what was going to come of any of this. You were glad he left because you didn’t have any more energy to give him. He knew what happened. That was all that mattered right now.

[nsfwhiphop]

Important Message for the clown entertainers: Subject title: "You have been warned. I will shoot now. Keep thinking I'm a soft dude."

Subject Title: Warning to Those Using Red Herrings Against Me

"White supremacists have been trying to use the red herring technique to blame me and accuse me of crimes I never committed. They tried to use this confusion to get me killed or thrown in jail. Here is the list of white supremacists who used the red herring technique to attack me:

@AkhenatonIAM

Mouloud Achour

Melissa Theuriau

Vincent Cassel

Brad Pitt

These five people have tried to accuse me of crimes I have never committed, and they all failed in their attempts to ruin my life. I have so many witnesses and so much audio and video proof - I can sue them and win the court case. They will be sent to jail for what they did to me. They should consider themselves lucky that I don't have time for their stupidity. I'm fighting enemies that are way more powerful than them. These five people I have mentioned are hungry entertainers trying to get clout and make some easy money. They all failed to prove their theory. But I finally succeeded in proving my theory. I proved that they are the criminals, not me. They have been spies working for the evil regime trying to ruin my life, but they all failed. Now they should leave me alone, or I will be forced to resort to violence. Is it clear? I will shoot now. If you don't stop sabotaging my life, guess what? I will come to your house and shoot you now. You have all been warned. I'm not afraid of you. It's the opposite - you will be afraid of me now. You have no idea who you're fucking with. Go play your stupid clown games somewhere else. If you push me, I will shoot you in broad daylight. Fuck around and find out."

Watch this scene - The Hangover Part III (2013) - Marshall Got Shot

I’m a nice guy, but don’t forget that I’m an alien too. If you think I will never use violence, you just keep pushing me and see if I don’t murder you.

No amount of CIA or FBI or whatever clowns you think will stop me can help you. If I say I will murder you, I will murder you.

CIA and FBI don’t rule Europe, get that in your head, we are in Europe.

I’m a European killer, come and arrest me if you have power.

Clowns with no balls. Cowards who make movies to impress people but when it’s time to pick up a gun, they run away like cowards.

Keep pushing me and see what happens.

P.S.:

Did you know? Leslie Chow is like Angelo.

Angelo has a personality reminiscent of Leslie Chow, though I am a straight heterosexual.

The Mexican police officer says, "Can you prove your theory? Because the other theory is that you're lying."

The Mexican police officer says, "Can you substantiate your theory? Because the alternative theory is that you're lying."

Watch this scene: The Hangover Part III | The Police Station | Warner Bros. Entertainment

Here is the explanation:

Question:

"What is the red herring technique in storytelling, and how is it used to mislead the audience?"

"Can you explain the red herring technique in storytelling and provide examples of how it is used?"

ChatGPT Answer:

In storytelling, a red herring is a deliberate misdirection intended to divert the audience's attention away from the truth or the important elements of the story. It is a technique used by writers to create suspense, add complexity to the plot, and surprise the audience with unexpected twists. Here are some key aspects of the red herring technique:

Purpose of a Red Herring

Misdirection: Red herrings are used to mislead the audience, causing them to form incorrect assumptions about characters, events, or the overall outcome of the story.

Suspense and Tension: By diverting attention, red herrings help build suspense and keep the audience engaged, as they try to figure out the true direction of the story.

Surprise and Plot Twists: When the truth is finally revealed, the contrast between the audience's expectations and the actual outcome can lead to a powerful and memorable plot twist.

Common Examples in Storytelling

False Suspects in Mysteries: In detective stories or thrillers, red herrings often come in the form of characters who seem guilty but are ultimately innocent, diverting suspicion away from the real culprit.

Decoy Plotlines: Introducing subplots or events that seem crucial but turn out to be irrelevant to the main plot can serve as red herrings.

Misleading Clues: Placing false clues or evidence in a story that leads characters and the audience down the wrong path is a classic use of the red herring.

Examples of Red Herrings

In Literature: In Agatha Christie’s "And Then There Were None," various characters are suspected of being the murderer, but the true culprit remains hidden until the end.

In Film: In "The Usual Suspects," the entire narrative is designed as a red herring, leading to the surprising reveal of Keyser Söze’s identity.

In TV Shows: In "Sherlock," many episodes use red herrings to distract both Sherlock and the audience from the real solutions to the mysteries.

How to Identify a Red Herring

Implausibility: Sometimes, red herrings might seem plausible but, on closer inspection, have inconsistencies or implausible elements.

Excessive Emphasis: A detail or character might receive excessive focus, hinting that the attention might be a deliberate misdirection.

Sudden Revelations: Often, the truth is revealed suddenly, dispelling the red herring and realigning the audience's understanding of the story.

In essence, red herrings are a powerful tool in the storyteller’s arsenal, used to keep audiences guessing and to deliver satisfying and unexpected conclusions.

[azol-otl]

While I know that Jason interacts with Harvey Dent in Task Force Z and that he had arcs with Black Mask and Penguin in rhato, I wish that dc would explore what he thinks of these men more thoroughly and with respect or at least references to his pre-flashpoint history with them.

Because one of Jason’s big points for why killing would be the better option is the amount of bodies afterwards is not? Why are the lives of innocents worth less than their murderers or their hypothetical redemption?

Jason saved Black Mask’s life as Robin. He is the reason Sionis was alive to do everything he did. It would be so interesting to see that fact eat Jason up inside. That because he saved this man’s life, Sionis was able to become someone that ruins lives whether they be his clientele (which Catherine would have been) or his workers (which Willis would have been).  Sionis is basically one of the biggest threats to kids like Jason was, but also one of the biggest threats to Park Row and from what we’ve seen he’s made himself a pillar of Gotham’s underworld, meaning that he can’t just be killed because the fallout would be catastrophic.

With Penguin, well the story was retconned and will never be touched again because it paints Bruce is a negative light, but back in the day he used to just be a jewel thief. None of this organized crime business he mostly stole stuff. And at one point he actually tried to go straight. And Bruce didn’t believe him despite Jason arguing that Penguin was genuinely turning a new leaf. Instead he gets thrown into jail and it’s kind of fucked up in the way comics are and after Jason’s death he along with several other rogues end up taking a level in depravity and competence. So we could honestly have this be Penguin’s “Then Let Me Be Evil” point. We could have him be both a reason why Bruce hangs so hard onto redemption (because he didn’t believe someone before and they came out worse) but also as a symbol to Jason about how the system doesn’t work and was never designed to work. Because Penguin came out worse and for a long time basically flaunts the fact that he’s a criminal with a thin veneer of legality that works because of his money.

And with Harvey, well. Harvey is Bruce’s friend. A very close friend that Bruce should remember every time they are clashing. Bruce remembers Harvey Dent the district attorney. He remembers a good person. Not only that but Harvey’s been pretty consistent in the fact that he very much needs help. He’s had a couple of arcs across different media where he is ‘cured’ (which is its own can of worms)  and how in the end it didn’t matter because he became Two-Face again. And this should infuriate Jason because Harvey murdered Willis. Harvey is one of the reasons Jason’s life sucked so much! Without Willis he and Catherine didn’t have enough money to survive! Even if Jason didn’t like Willis or if the abuse retcons stick, he knows that without Willis they couldn’t survive. And Harvey had him killed! Harvey should be Bruce’s longshot, the man Bruce never gives up on, and he should be a symbol of Bruce’s selfishness to Jason because how many people ended up the same as him because of Harvey.

(Side Note: I love how when Jason says “Only him” referring to the Joker, he brings up Harvey who caused a lot of grief, Penguin who got worse in the system, and Crane who doesn’t even see people as people. Like these guys are obviously not good and Jason’s like, “Not even these horrible people causing suffering, just the clown.”)

On the other side I want to see Jason interact with Killer Croc and Ivy as well. 

Croc’s one of those characters who’s actually been treated pretty nicely after flashpoint and while that is wild it could also be used. We know he has chilled out since his debut (though is he still a cannibal? I’m really not sure). He’s canonically Roy’s AA sponsor (which again, wild as shit. But even with how Roy’s been handled I love the idea that he was at such a low point he was trying to commit “Suicide by Croc” which honestly feels like something vigilantes do (continue to fight with little care to themselves and hope someone takes them out in a way they’d still be viewed as a hero for)). He has been drafted into the Suicide Squad (which again, another way to show that the system doesn’t work because good lord is Task Force X so many human right violations [but also something I can see the actual U.S. government doing]). So he’s killed a ton of people but he’s also pretty much “Out of my territory and you’re fine”, saved someone close to Jason, and generally not in Jason’s way. Like how would Croc file into Jason’s morality? Does it even matter? 

And with Ivy, well... She’s right. Corporations are absolutely destroying the planet, and if anything Gotham’s like one of the worst at it considering all the weird chemicals and shit. Like the way Ivy goes about it is both wrong and absurdly incompetent, but she has the right idea. No Man’s Land has been retconned but the event was kind of Ivy’s first steps into anti-villain as far as I’m aware of (until Harley Quinn exploded in popularity and just absorbed her into her sphere). How does Jason act with someone who does bad shit but if reigned back a little, would cause way more good than bad in the long run. Or does he only care about the ‘right now’?

Uhhh, this was really long and consists of mostly word vomit but tldr; Jason should interact with the rogues besides the clowns and everyone adjacent to them because they either tie into his morals or history and that’d be cool.

[andorshitdaily]

Most likely to become president/emperor/chancellor/"head of whatever form of government we'll have" Most likely to end up in jail (rightfully AND wrongfully) Most likely to die in a jizz bar Most likely to become a stormtrooper (lowkey aka worst shot) Most likely to have the most boring job Most likely to write a become a star Most likely to write a bestseller Most likely to become a stay at home spouse Biggest flirt, Class clown, Biggest teacher's pet, Best couple, Best dressed, Best friend, Best singer, Best dancer, Best athlete, Most opinionated, Biggest drama queen/king, Clumsiest I think that's all I have for now but there are so many more options and it sounds like a super fun idea!! (also lowkey most likely to suffocate their mother under a mountain of cereals)

sorry my eyes went straight to "jizz bar" and i can't read anything else but i assume they are all great and i'll put them all on the list once i am able to move on

[ireallylovepupplies101stuff]

Spiderdemon AU Funfacts

We interrupt the AU drama with some funfact bits for the Spiderdemon AU. So I hope you enjoy!!

-When Bendy first became Spiderdemon, he didn't expect to get fans. Holly’s one thing because he knows she's naturally curious and likes doing research on things, but he was surprised when Boris nearly shoved his phone in his face to show him people were making videos, drawings, MEMES, etc about Spiderdemon.

Since Boris tends to work on the computer the most he spams Bendy with Spiderdemon fan stuff he finds that he thinks Bendy gets a kick out of. Bendy finds it entertaining, and makes a blog or something to save all this spiderdemon stuff. Sometimes taking pictures of himself when he's out patrolling to post online.

People start wondering if his blog is run by spiderdemon, but thanks to Boris' awesome computer skills, no one can get any proof. XD

-Felix is well aware Bendy’s Spiderdemon.

He figured it out when Bendy was with him when he was visiting a museum for work, but someone attacked the museum, Bendy vanished, and Spiderdemon showed up, using a clearly fake voice to tell Felix his kid is perfectly safe.

Although irritated that Bendy’s been lying to his face, he understands why, and from then on pretends not to notice Bendy sneaking in and out when Spiderdemon is needed.

The moment he hears about Spiderdemon out saving the day though he turns on the news and anxiously watches and hopes Bendy doesn't get hurt.

-Oswald and Felix start dating shortly before Bendy goes to college. The two of them connected when Bendy and Ortensia were in the hospital, and Felix helped Oswald through his grief after he lost his wife. Oswald and Mickey always welcomed Felix and the boys over for family meals and Bendy and Boris would occasionally babysit Oswald's kids.

Oswald gets a sneaking suspicion that Bendy's Spiderdemon, and that suspicion is confirmed when he temporarily comes out of retirement and meets Spiderdemon up close as the Lucky Rabbit. He comes out of retirement initially to, convince, Spiderdemon to help him right a wrong.

Aka trick him into helping him steal something from some extremely shady and dangerous people.

Bendy would be MAAAAAD. Boris ends up listening through the suit's communication system as Bendy rants angerly over how he's going to find Lucky Rabbit someday, kick his cussing but, and throw him in cussing jail!

However, the next day, Bendy's surprised to find out the thing Lucky Rabbit tricked him into helping him steal, was actually something Lucky Rabbit stole from Felix many years ago, and he wanted to steal it back to secretly return it. Bendy would be confused, and still kinda mad, but he's glad that his and Boris' adoptive father is happy.

Despite knowing Bendy is rightfully angry at him for his manipulative trick as Lucky Rabbit, Oswald makes sure to keep an eye on the news in case Spiderdemon needs help while saving the town.

-since Boris isn't exactly a big fan of spiders, he's not exactly a fan of Bendy's shapeshifting powers when he can make himself into a giant spider demon.

He's not scared of Bendy when he does that, but it does make him cussing SHUDDER. (like imagine having a fear of clowns and a loved one has to dress like one for some reason. That would give anyone the heebie jeebies)

Then when Holly is in on Bendy’s identity, and starts asking him about his powers, she asks him if Bendy can communicate with spiders, and possibly summon an army of spiders.

Boris straight up got out of his seat, and walked out of the room going "Nopenopenopenope."

Holly: Maybe I should have saved that question for later...

Bendy: Boris come back! I'm 90% sure I can't summon spiders!

Thanks to Holly putting that thought in Boris' head, Boris now brings a can of spider repellent when Bendy’s trying to work on his powers and trying to see if he can tap into new ones.

-When Bendy officially moved into his college dorm, both he and Boris were kinda emotional over the fact that they're not going to be around each other in person daily. Boris absolutely cried and Bendy tried his best not to tear up as they hugged each other bye after Boris and Felix finished helping Bendy move into his dorm.

Later that night though they called each other over the phone. They make sure to talk daily and Bendy comes home during the weekends to stay the night and spend time with his family (when villains aren't threatening the town and keeping him busy).

-safe to say Boris would be kinda giving Cuphead the cold shoulder after learning he's Red Diamond because of how often he hurt his brother in fights.

But he would be curious about Venom. Cuphead probably notices how Boris actually acknowledges his existence again when Venom comes up in conversation. 

Cuphead: You wanna say hi?

Boris: .... Is he going to bite?

Cuphead: Nah, he just ate.

Venom: *smacks Cuphead in the head*

Cuphead: Gah! *rubs his head and rolls his eyes* We also have a strict "no hurting kids" code.

-When out as Spiderdemon, if villains aren't attacking, Bendy delivers food to homeless people on the streets. He remembers how rough it was for him and Boris when they were on the streets before Felix took them in so he'd want to help out when he can.

-Cuphead for the longest time thought Bendy’s tail and horn were part of Bendy’s spiderdemon costume.

So imagine his confusion when he knows Bendy’s identity, and notices his tail coming out of seemingly nowhere to pick up a gear or something he dropped when working on something. 

Cuphead: You wear your costume tail all the time? Doesn't it get uncomfortable? 

Bendy: .... *doesn't break eye contact as he shape shifts his spider demon horns to come out*

Cuphead: HOLY CUSS THEY’RE REAL?!

Bendy: You know I can shape shift! How is this surprising to you?!

[saturrnss]

—-HOBIE’S CANON EVENT (headcanon)—-

Warnings: violent death, daddy issues, mentions of police brutality and underaged drinking, mentions of police corruption

A/n: I’m pulling this straight out of my ass cheeks so do with that what you will. And also I know London banned guns but I’m the writer so I can do anything

😁

.hobie never likes to talk about his canon event, only Miguel and Gwen know about it, and he will literally kill anyone who tries to bring it up.

•••

Lieutenant James Campbell was the worst cop on the London police force.

He was mean, cruel and nasty.

So many innocent people went to jail for a long time because of him and so many abusers and Murderers got out because their lawyers paid him.

He didn’t care for any of the citizens, he was so bad that it was the start of hobie’s long term hatred for cops

But some how, someway. His father- Officer Daniel brown was friends with him.

“I’ve known him since kindergarten, he's not be that bad”

His father used to say whenever hobie tried to bring his cruelty up or make side eye him when he was around.

Hobie never understood it. “How could you let that pig around here!?” “Not even turn ‘em in?!” He thought to himself.

One day, a couple of months after he got bit, he got into an argument which he started after he cussed James out which made him storm off.

“I can believe you defend that fucking clown!!” He yelled. “Clam down“ his father softly but sternly replied with. “I’m not gonna calm down! You willingly jerk those guys off like they’re gonna see you any differently!’’

“I don’t know those people that you hang out with, but I can see the number they did on you” Daniel says, fixing his tie at the kitchen counter and putting his police hat on.

“Don’t bring them into this!’’ He said being even more enraged at the fact that he was basically being ignored.

His father stepped away from the counter and went toward the door of the apartment, but hobie still wasn’t gonna let it go.

“No wonder mom left you, I wouldn’t wanna be with such a cunt either.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“….what did you say?” Daniel said without moving a muscle.

And before hobie could repeat it again his father jumped at him from across the room, forcing him against the wall by his shirt.

“Speak on her again in that way! Speak!!!” He yelled right in his face, spit getting all over.

And for the first time, he didn’t comply.

He would never admit it, but that was the first time, in years, that he felt like he pushed-too far.

His father dropped him and walked away from him, sucking his anger back into him and straightening himself up.

The sheer fear, that hobie felt a few moments ago is a feeling that he would never feel again in his lifetime.

He dad takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to be a cop.” Hobie looks up, confused as to what his father was saying.

“When I was younger me and my mates used to get into a lot of trouble with them,” he says. "but as I grew up, I realized that making a difference isn't just running around, high and confused, it’s about working inside the system. It might not look like it but I have to be very, careful with the power I have now."

He gets his jacket. "One less racist cop at a time." he stops again. "I'm not mad at you, Hobart. You're a young black trying to figure it all out," "but there's just some ways you go about it."

He opens the door and looks back one final time.

"I love you."

Hobie doesn't say anything.

He tries to wait for a couple of seconds, hobie usually breaks the silence with a response but this time he doesn't.

".....I just hope you know that."

He leaves.

And hobie is left there, silent.

•••

Later that night, he got shit-faced with his mates Pic and Scabs at this random punk bar they found. The screeching sound of guitars and the audience screaming was so loud that you could barely hear yourself think.

The smell was awful too but you got used to it after a while.

He stumbled out of the place after a couple of hours and puked into the nearest trash can he could find. Everything was so fuzzy, the longest he could go walking in a straight line was a few seconds at most.

But then, while he was trying to find some essence of soberness, blinking red and blue emergency trucks dart passed him on the street- police cars follow.

He usually wouldn't care about things like that but something in his mind was telling him.

"Follow''

So he did.

Part of him still wishes he never listened.

He didn’t really need to run that far since the scene was happening a couple feet away from him. When he got there it was so many people in front of him but it didn’t bother him that much since he was tall as hell.

The body was already covered so he only saw the blood continuing to leak out of it but it was already enough to make his stomach drop.

Something about it was -off- to him, so he pushed through the crowd, and lifted the cover.

And there it was.

His dad laying face first on the ground, multiple stab wounds to his head, brain matter splattered. Hobie was frozen, his face was like stone, he tried to hold back his tears but before he knew it they were filling his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, making his vision blurry even more-so.

“Sir.” A random policeman says, he doesn’t hear. “Sir,” he snaps his fingers in hobie’s face, this time the punk notices him but he just doesn’t care.

“Sir I’m gonna have to ask you to leav-“ the officer says and starts to put his hand on hobie’s shoulder but he instinctively pushes him away. Sooner or later more cops circle around him as he refuses to move away from the body. But before a fight could break out, voice comes out from behind them.

“He’s with me.” The officers stop and stand up straight to hobie’s confusion. He turned around to see the devil himself- lieutenant James, in all his prick-ish glory.

“I think you all should leave.” He says, forcing the officers to leave you alone, still side eyeing the punk while walking away.

For a short while there was silence, just a moment of taking in what was now reality, then James decided to break the ice. “..Sorry..son” he puts his hand on his back which makes both of them cringe to the heaviest degree.

They watch the paramedics put his body on a stretcher and lift him up onto the back of the ambulance but even that wasn’t an emotional moment due to thick air of tension created.

He runs off to get inside the vehicle before they close the door, escaping the awkwardness and into an equally dreadful but weirdly calming environment.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity, all he could do was hold his dad’s hand, watching the paramedics trying to save a lost cause.

They got to the Emergency room and rolled the officer away, leaving hobie there, alone, with only himself to comfort.

Later, while hobie was sitting in a waiting chair, trying to distract himself with whatever crappy American sitcom they aired on late night television, a doctor in a long white coat and round glasses approached him.

“You must be Officer Brown’s son.” The doctor says “what of it?” Hobie tries to say in his usual dismissive tone but this time, he can’t bring himself to commit fully.

“…..he was too far gone.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs, he thought he mentally prepared for it but hearing someone say it was like it cemented itself into reality.

“If you would like,” the doctor said with pity in their voice. “You could come to the room to have one last moment with him.” He hesitated at first but then picked himself up walked to the room with the doctor.

When he entered the room it was a cold and sterile atmosphere, felt like one of those liminal spaces. The colors of the room were almost sickly, everything about it wasn’t right, the only thing that grounded it in reality was the body laying flat in the middle of the room.

The doctor quietly excused themself out of the room and shut the door. Hobie walked to the side of the body and practically just dropped on his father- and cried.

Cried hard. It almost felt like he was a 5 year old again, sitting on his dad’s lap wailing because he broke his arm, but this time he doesn’t feel a warm embrace, the reassurance and comfort of a parental figure.

All he feels is just a cold hand. Lifelessness.

No one to tell him it was gonna be all okay.

Nothing was there anymore.

He barley even remembers the funeral, all he can recount is James, his supposed “best friend” looking bored and laughing up a storm with people.

The case for his dad closed after about 3 months no matter how hard Hobie fought for it to say open.

He couldn’t keep up with rent so he got evicted.

The only option was to stay with his absent mom or James, and no way in hell was that happening.

He found an abandoned warehouse and decorated it to his liking. It’s not like he was depressed or anything but everything just went- numb for a little while.

On rare occasions he felt emotion, but it went away after a few seconds.

Life felt more like a really bad fever dream now.

If you could even call it a dream.

•••

Months after that, he was sleeping on a friend’s couch when the friend, Rob frantically woke him.

“Wake the fuck up Hobbs!!” Rob quietly yells in a panic. “What?!” He says, sitting up dazed. Rob paces back and forth.

"Scabs got merked!!" hobie's mind didn't register it at first. “…huh?" “Scab’s is dead mate!” It still doesn’t compute. “….what?” He says in an uncharacteristically dumbfounded tone. “Do I have to spell it out for you dumbass he is not with us anymore!!”

Then when it finally clicks, the only words he can muster out is

“....who killed him?" he asks but Rob didn't hear it, still pacing and talking to himself. It took hobie to get up and grab Rob by his jacket for him to finally get a straight answer."

"Who. Killed. Him?" He says slowly. "That cunt lieutenant said he had drugs on him when he doesn't even drink. One thing lead to another and he got shot."

His face drops.

At first, he was even more lost, and confused. He sat back down and put his hand into his palms. Then, it was like someone poured boiling water one him to wake up.

For the first time, in a long time, an emotion finally stuck with him.

Rage.

Blind. Rage.

He quickly went to get his guitar and his suit and quickly went toward the door. “Where yo-” hobie had already shut the door before his friend could finish the question.

He changed on the rooftop of the building and swung into the night.

He didn’t even know where that cunt was, all he knew was that he had to do something. Something that would make him feel the pain and numbness that he felt.

And the only way he knew how to do that was by Revenge.

He finally got to the lieutenant’s house- a modest, 2-bedroom house. He didn't have any children, he got divorced rather quickly before he could.

He got in through the window. It was pitch black and he couldn't feel anyone in the house so he walked up to the front door and waited.

He saw certificates and police gear all over the wall along with pictures of him on duty and all he could feel was disgust.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his face in his mask, palms sore from holding the guitar. His suit only made him feel claustrophobic but he didn’t care.

He heard a car pull up. His eyes immediately shot to the window, seeing a black Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway. He looks straight at the door, feeling him get out of the car and inch closer and closer to the door.

His heart was beating through his chest and was mentally psyching himself up. The sound of keys jingling just outside the door made him close his eyes.

“Once I deal with him,” he thought. “It will be all over with.”

The doorknob turned and he saw him. From that point on, It was like an out-of-body experience. He didn’t feel like himself- Something came over him.

Maybe it was a greater force than himself, maybe it was all the grief he somehow suppressed it was a mystery.

He doesn’t remember much of the fight, only the fact that James had a broken nose and was losing severely. But when he “got back” to his body, the scene was a horror show.

Blood was all over him, his guitar was broken and James' head looked like it had been split in two. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together.

It was so bad that two teeth were stuck in the bottom of his guitar. He quickly left the scene after he heard a car coming. He got on the roof of Rob’s flat and hid his blood soaked suit and guitar.

He knew he couldn’t leave it there for long or else it would stain. He opened the door to the apartment and immediately went to take a shower, and to be honest, he felt immensely better.

He was mostly glad that nobody would be bothered by him anymore, that there was one less burden on earth, but he couldn’t brush off the fact that something was watching him- Something familiar.

It was the most publicized murder case in the city. The brutality of it all intrigued people the most. “What could have the heroic police officer James Campbell, done to have deserved this fate?”

It made him sick, the blatant rewriting of history. Especially the fact that the authority force had so much more emotion for him than his dad.

That’s when he got his blue latter laces. His friends and the rest of the scene noticed but didn’t say anything nor cared. He got investigated for a bit but due to lack of evidence he was let go.

He took a break from being spider-man for a while, opting to spend time with his friends and to sort of heal. He cleaned his suit and fixed his guitar, trying to live a normal life after what he did.

He still gets night terrors once in a while, it gets mixed in with dreams of his dad. He makes jokes about his laces, smiling at Miles’s dad when he catches him staring at his shoes.

Definitely doesn't feel bad about that son of a bitches death, doesn't have a reason to care anyway. But there's still a pinch of- guilt in the back of his mind.

Festering. If he didn't say what he said, if he just caved in and told him that he loved him. Then he would still be alive.

.

A/N: idk y'all I'm not feeling this one 😔 also hey y'all

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