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cicada-circuitry · 2 months

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#God tho this does make me want to pull back up that notebook fic snippet i had#of Margo confronting Molly about this too but like with science.#Margo would know. Just saying. She knows. ⃪ does this mean you have Molly/Margo fic?

Hi anon! sorry this is now several days late but boy do I. ( watched FAMK for the first time in February, wound up with Pages and pages of fic snippets (for a couple ships, margo x molly included) in chicken scratch on physical paper which is always a great sign that im being normal about a show, thought I'd cure myself if I just watched the whole thing a second time and absolutely only made it worse. )

I meant to answer this ask by just typing up the quick excerpt of the fic I was talking to myself in the tags about but...... started typing and did not stop. It lives over here now! Was not the one of the notebook fics I thought would see the light of day but you know? why not.

(I assume if you're here you, like me, have already read all the fics to be found but if you have Not read everything in that tag already, highly recommend. this fandom may be small but boy did it have good food on offer when I rolled in four years late fresh off a few episodes and absolutely screaming.)

Since I went ahead and dropped that one on ao3 at like 4am i'll throw in something a little more typical of the the notebook archives - how about this thing that exists entirely bc i noticed that used bookstore you can see beside the Outpost in season 1 and it gave me Ideas

Sometime post crossword-quiz / pre- run-in at the Jazz club.

Margo walks fast past the Outpost on her way over to Bargain Books. When she can, she prefers to park down at the other end of the street and not have to go by that eyesore of a bar in the first place, but when you double the size of the astronaut program with twenty female ascans, you turn street parking into a blood sport. On her salary, no way is she playing chicken with the corvettes, not even to avoid mustering a polite smile for a coworker at his inebriated worst.

Most days, that’s only an issue if she swings by after dark, the hour when everybody’s trickling out and stumbling home for the evening. Otherwise, the dingy whitewashed plywood keeps a nice impenetrable wall between book-seeking passers-by and drunken test pilots. Today, however, a spell of perfect weather is conspiring against her. Someone has the door propped open with a rusty paint can, letting the sound of laughter of clinking glass spill through it onto the sidewalk.

A flash of green catches Margo’s eye before she can make it past. Despite herself, she recognizes that shade in an instant. It’s the flannel shirt she had to reprimand earlier that afternoon for bringing a lit cigarette into the sim. Molly Cobb, bent over a pool table, chin twisted up towards Patty Doyle, grinning like a woman about to win.

Just Margo’s luck that this is the perfect time of day—indoor light matching outdoor light—for Molly to catch her eye straight through the open door as she makes her shot. 8-ball, dead in the pocket.

For no reason she can think of, Margo feels heat rushing up into her cheeks.

She stalks into Bargain Books in a hurry.

The sweater-vested owner behind the front desk gives her the polite nod reserved for a good customer (and disinterested conversationalist) as she beelines for Paperback Fiction. She finished Matheson’s Ride the Nightmare last night— should have picked up two when she noticed how short it was in the first place, but nothing else tickled her fancy when she was in here a week ago, so here she is again, browsing spines. Maybe it's time to cave and finally grab a 10¢ copy of Rosemary's Baby from the stack on the end, seeing as it’s the one highly recommended title in her genre-of-choice the entire country seems to have read in the last couple years, but she already knows the ending (and the entire premise of demonic pregnancy does not appeal for tuning out after the work day).

She’s dubiously eying the back-cover blurb on a Chandler detective thriller instead when a voice over her shoulder says, “Oh, Patty loves this shit.”

To her great chagrin, Margo jumps, gasps, and drops her book. “Jesus, Molly.”

“My bad.”

Molly squats down to pick it up, slouchy brown corduroy flexing over her thighs. She fixes a bend in the cover before offering it back to her, but when Margo tries to take it away, Molly doesn’t let go. Instead, she adopts a playfully quirked brow and tugs it back towards herself inch-by-inch, bringing Margo, frowning, a step closer than she was before. “Came here to see if I could talk you into a drink.”

Margo’s voice comes out approximately four steps too high as she looks around for some explanatory audience and says incredulously, “In there?” with a jerk of her thumb towards the Outpost’s adjoining wall.

“Yeah. NASA central, shithole though it may be, but I never see you around.”

“Well, I’m not an astronaut.”

“Neither are the five white-shirts who monopolize the best booth in the back six nights a week. They don’t check for a pin at the door, Madison. That’d be no way to run a business. It’s a bar. Come have a drink with me.”

“With… you.” She asks because she expects there to be an and. Me and the other ascans. Me and the rest of you white-shirt types in the back. Me and Patty Doyle.

But Molly just raps the cover of The Lady in the Lake with her knuckles and says again, “With me.”

#margo x molly #thx anon!! be warned if you give me an excuse to say literally any words about this show im going to say them!!#whats that tumblr rule about like as long as you put a certain number of tags the next tags don't sort into search?#love to categorize things for myself dont necessarily need the entire fandom tag seeing my questionable 4am fic offerings #is it five tags is that enough?#for all mankind #molly cobb #margo madison #the notebook fic probably mostly wont see the light of day bc its a lot of just going absolutely overkill #writing single protracted conversations about every event that made me mildly insane through the entire show #which does not come together well into something that actually Goes Anywhere or god forbid Actually Ends #but yes lol i very very very much do have fic

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nellasbookplanet · 1 month

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I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.

But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)

But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.

But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.

I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.

#critical role #cr2 #mollymauk tealeaf #long post #i know we're all thinking about a different dead pc today but this has been on my mind for a while and i wanted to write it out #i feel like discussions of molly tend to get stuck in two camps:#either 'he was a good kind and perfect moral compass' (lol no)#or: 'he was an asshole and you're all delusional' (also no)#molly was as much of an asshole as the rest of the m9 #but he thought of himself as capable of being a good person and doing good things #and that counted for something even if he backed it up with empty gestures and platitudes bc there WAS genuine care in it #and when the m9 chose to emulate it it was no longer empty #nella talks cr

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runa-falls · 10 months

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Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)

In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((

Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)

Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏

GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...

thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE

masterlist

sometimes miguel comes home in silence.

he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.

you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.

sometimes he doesn't come back at all.

sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.

miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.

he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.

the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.

he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.

so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.

and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.

---

today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.

he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.

even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.

he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.

you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.

he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.

this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.

his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.

he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.

slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.

ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.

it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?

there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.

like how it was before. how it could've been.

your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.

so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?

by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.

you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.

you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.

"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."

"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."

you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.

"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.

his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.

you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --

"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.

of course, he's tired. he should be tired.

"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.

it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.

"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.

"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.

"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."

he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."

"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."

his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"

his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.

but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.

"yes, really."

"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"

"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.

before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.

"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"

"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.

his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.

"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.

you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.

"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."

"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."

you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.

"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"

"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"

an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...

"i-i could--"

"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.

you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.

you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.

you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.

"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"

his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.

"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."

your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.

you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.

you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.

"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.

"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.

"...i want you to."

"really?"

"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."

"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.

you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.

he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.

miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.

he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.

he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.

he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.

his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.

"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.

you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.

"baby, enough, please."

you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.

"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.

"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara angst #2099 #spider man 2099 #atsv #miguel o'hara x gn!reader

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kmt123whatsthetea · 1 month

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The Weasley twins birthday headcanon

A/N: I wanted to get this done as I didn't have time to do something like this on Valentines Day. This isn’t a goodbye fic, I'm just going to be offline for a few months (I know it's normal for me to not post daily or weekly, but I’ll be off the grid for a while). I know this isn't that good, it's something that I threw together the day before.

TW: NSFW, Somnophilia, Servant/ Master, lingerie, Exhibitionism?, Teeny bit of voyeurism,

-The twins always loved celebrating their birthday (mainly because it’s April fools day)

-They can prank to their heart’s content and use two excuses to get away with it

-When they first started owning a shop, it only dubbed their mischievous ambitions

-When you came into their lives, they decided to turn their mischief into dirty fun

-They’d always wake you up with either one of their cocks in your mouth or in your cunt, sometimes both at the same time

-When you woke up confused, naked, and horny, they'd say that they couldn't wait to unwrap their gift

-A few days before their birthday, they’d buy you lingerie that was their favourite colour

-They asked you to wear it all day, no matter what

-Their birthday=Their pleasure

-Because it’s their birthday, you were their perfect little servant all day

-Anything they asked of you, you did no matter what

-They asked you to get down on your hands and knees and let your lingerie ride up? Yes sirs

-They asked you to keep their cocks warm while they continued about their day? Yes sirs

-They asked you to tease yourself while they gave you orders? Yes sirs

-Their birthday, their rules

-This isn't strictly limited to their birthday

-For your special day, they’ll pamper you and treat you like the only rose in a flowerbed (which is pretty similar to how they treat you year round)

-They like to shut the shop on birthdays, but they have opened before just so you can sit beneath the counter and keep your mouth busy while they serve customers (Fred came up with the idea)

-George came up with the idea to dress you in lingerie for the day

-All in all, the day will run like this and end with some pretty kinky sex which will most likely result in snuggle and eating birthday cake (which Molly definitely dropped round)

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

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So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

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roanniom · 2 years

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This talk about Eddie giving head just reminds me of The Breakfast Club. There's a scene where the bad boy is hiding under the table and sees up Molly Ringwald's skirt and becomes entranced lol

The Good and the Bad

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, lil bit of angst in the form of Eddie being misunderstood by the general public, groping (m & f receiving), a little bit of over the clothes rubbing in a semi public place, a lil dirty talk

Eddie hiding underneath a table because he’s being chased by Principal Higgins who wants to search his lunch box. He’s scrambled into the chemistry classroom where you’re doing independent study and, upon seeing the harried look on his face, you push away from your work bench and let him dive for cover, no questions asked.

Thankfully this type of table / work bench has storage drawers on the other side, meaning Higgins can’t see Eddie crouched around your legs when he glances in through the doorway.

“Has Eddie Munson run through here?” Higgins asks brusquely and a little out of breath. You give him a polite smile and put down the test tubes that you’d clutched in an effort to look casually busy.

“No, I haven’t seen him, Principal Higgins,” you demure, innocent as possible. Eddie’s hand squeezes your knee in what you assume is gratitude.

From where he sits beneath the table, Eddie looks up and realizes that his position makes it impossible not to look up your skirt. It was a skirt he’d always liked from afar - all flounce and bright white, coming just to about mid-thigh. But what he’s realizing now is that he can also see your bright white panties from his current vantage point.

“You’ve been hanging around with Munson a lot though lately, haven’t you,” Higgins is saying accusingly from the doorway. Eddie swallows his scoff, or at least tries to in order to avoid giving himself away but a sound still comes out. You reach under the desk blindly and pull Eddie’s face against your thighs to silence him.

And suddenly he could die fucking happy.

“Not particularly,” you respond to Principal Higgins’ statement. “We’re scene partners in drama, but that’s it really.” It’s a bald faced lie and you feel Eddie shake with a silent chuckle from where you’re holding onto him by the back of his head.

You’ve been seeing Eddie romantically for a few weeks now. Ever since you were paired together to work on a scene for class and you’d invited him over to your house to rehearse.

He’d surprised you with his charm and with the intelligence that you hadn’t assumed he had what with his several repeated senior years.

You’d surprised him by grabbing him by the back of the neck and then kissing him on the second night you’d rehearsed together. He’d just been so animated and so bizarre and - if you were honest with yourself - so damn attractive. And you were a goody-two-shoes. Done everything by the book and followed all the rules. You’d never gotten to do what you wanted. And you’ve recently discovered that what you want is a boy who plays in a band, runs a D&D club and kisses you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

Principal Higgins doesn’t need to know any of that of course, so you just shrug un-helpfully. Higgins shakes his head.

“A good student like you shouldn’t be exposed to a miscreant like him. I can talk to Mrs. Zimmer if you’d like a new partner, dear.”

“Eddie’s not a miscreant,” you disagree a little too quickly. You pause to bite your tongue, swallowing down the instinct to apologize or take it back. Instead you continue. “He’s actually a really good guy. You just don’t understand what you’re looking at when you see him.”

You feel Eddie’s hands come up and settle gently on the sides of your knees. You still have his face pressed into your thighs, but you interpret the silent gesture as one of thanks. It makes warmth course through your veins but you do your best to keep your face stern and trained on the man in the door way. Which is super fucking hard when all you want to do is glance down at the boy between your legs.

“As altruistic as those words are, my dear, I’m afraid Mr. Munson is going down a dark path.” Higgins says wearily, turning from the room to continue his search.

“Then maybe he needs someone to help him, rather than someone to punish him,” you retort.

“Not sure there’s a person alive who could save that boy,” Higgins gives a dismissive shrug. “Or really anyone who gives enough of a damn to do so.”

And with that, the principal stalks off. You fly from your chair and close the door, your fists clenched.

“What a fucking asshole!” You whisper scream, coming back to your seat. Eddie doesn’t crawl out from under the desk, instead he settles back on his haunches and looks up at you with a smirk you’ve never seen. It’s got you loosening your fists. “What?”

“You defended my honor, Princess.” Eddie reaches for your hands in your lap and intertwines your fingers.

“Well yeah of course. I wish I could’ve said more but I was worried I’d get emotional and blow your cover,” you grumble. Eddie’s thumb smooths over the back of your hand and the smirk widens into an even bigger smile.

“He’s right, you know.”

“About what?” You can’t help but extract one of your hands from his in order to run your fingers through his hair. He leans into the touch.

“That I’m a miscreant. A ne’er-do-well. A louse.”

“A scoundrel,” you offer, leaning down to being your face closer to his with a smile that matches his. Eddie comes up on his knees and shifts forward, pulling your legs apart to settle between them, hands smoothing over the tops of your thighs.

“Exactly,” he hums, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are narrowed. “But he was wrong about you.”

“Me?” You ask, breathless already in spite of the lightness of the kiss.

“You come off as a goody goody, but here you sit. With the town scoundrel between your legs.”

His words cause your heart to race and you bite your lip to try and keep your expression even.

“I said you needed someone to help you. What if this is me helping you?” Your words are light. In stark contrast to the intensity of Eddie’s fingers gripping your thighs, his rings digging into your skin. You wish he’d grip harder.

“You think I’ll find redemption here?” Eddie asks, watching your eyes as his hand skims from the top of your thigh to the softer inner flesh, sliding under the hem of your skirt to trace designs into the front of your white panties with his finger tip. Your eyes widen, breath kicking in faster.

“The way I see it…we have two options.” Your voice is more steady than you thought it would be and it boosts your confidence. Eddie applies the lightest of pressure to your cloth-covered slit which is rapidly gathering slick under his hand and his gaze. He watches you expectantly, however, so you inhale and continue. “I could save you, Eddie Munson. Because unlike Higgins or any of those other people, I’m someone who gives a damn.”

Eddie’s eyelids flutter suddenly. He’s a little overwhelmed by the way you’re making him feel both vulnerable and turned on at the same time. He’s never known anyone like you and he’s not even sure how to process the warmth bleeding from his heart right now. So he surges forward and kisses you. Hard this time. You pull at his hair to drag him to you, deepening the kiss even further. Taking everything he gives you and taking even more in the process.

When the two of you break away for air, your glassy eyes are reflected in Eddie’s. His finger continues to trace shapes into your pussy and he finds himself biting back a smug grin over how damp the fabric has become.

“Or?” He prompts.

You shake your head, trying to remember what you’d been saying before he stole your breath and kissed you senseless.

“What was our second option, Princess?” He asks, leaning up again to speak the words into your lips.

“Or…” you reach underneath your skirt and grasp his wrist, pushing his hand more definitively against your core. “You could corrupt me. And we could be bad together.”

Suddenly your chair is pushed back as Eddie erupts out from under the desk, wrenching you up and into his arms. He presses you back against the wall behind you, his body slotting against yours while his lips attack your face, your mouth, your throat.

“We have to get the fuck out of here,” he groans urgently, though he makes no move to pull away from you. Your laugh is hoarse in response to the contradiction between his words and his actions.

“Why? You hear Higgins coming back for you?”

He grabs your hand then and shoves it between your bodies, squeezing to make you feel the sheer size and heaviness of his hardened length straining in his jeans.

“Because I don’t need to corrupt you. This is all you, baby.”

His words scratch a part of your brain that makes your entire body shudder in his arms. He hadn’t called you ‘baby’ before and you find yourself both cupping him in your hand and grinding yourself against his thigh in response.

“Getting me hard in a classroom. Is that what good students do? Is that what a good girl does?”

If ‘baby’ scratched your brain, ‘good girl’ slapped you across the face in the best way. You moan openly and kiss any part of him you can reach, which currently is his throat.

“What can I say? You bring out the bad in me.” You’re proud of the fact that you’re still going toe to toe with him verbally. You never would have thought it possible with how he’d managed to turn your bones to jelly and your veins to fire.

“Can we take this a step further and graduate to full on ditching?” Eddie asks, his voice taking on a desperate breathless quality that has you preening even more. “Because if I don’t get you out of here right now, sweetheart, I’m gonna combust.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we,” you say, giving his cock one final squeeze before dropping your arms to your side and leaning back against the wall. Smiling and giving him room to pull himself off of you.

Eddie steadies himself with his hands on the wall on either side of your head, trying to take a deep gulping breath. Your eyes gazing up at him are so big and glassy that he has to shut his tightly in response.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Another first.

“Why?” You ask, truly confused.

“Because it’ll be difficult to sneak out of here with my dick so hard it feels like it could fall off.” He replies, squinting his eyes open with a smile that’s more of a pained cringe.

~*~

Tiny tag list: @millenialcatlady @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @chaoschaoswriting @copycatkillerfics @cowboy-kylo @lassie-bird @softpshycopath @katsukis1wife @spookyreidd

#anon #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson thots #eddie munson discourse #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader

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forestdeath1 · 2 months

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Canon Sirius through quotes

Part 4. How Sirius shows care towards people and animals.

Sirius has a trait that often seems like irresponsibility or excessive harshness.

Sirius really respects another person's free will and choice and even treats teenagers as adults with their own minds. It's a deeply rooted idea of respecting others as agents of free will.

That's why he has no pity for those who make mistakes, including himself. To him, any mistake is always a person's free choice. Sirius will never forgive Peter because, regardless of Peter's circumstances for betrayal, it ultimately was a CHOICE. He even refuses to forgive the Ministry (as if the Ministry cares, oh Sirius):

‘Don’t worry about Percy,’ said Sirius abruptly. ‘He’ll come round. It’s only a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry’s going to be begging us to forgive them. And I’m not sure I’ll be accepting their apology,’ he added bitterly.

He tells this to Molly after she encounters a boggart. Contrary to popular belief, in this scene, he doesn't really comfort her after their argument. Lupin does most of the work. Sirius just adds this phrase. He's still angry at Molly for what she said, just acting more maturely and not escalating the conflict further. He's angry because he understands Molly said exactly what she meant. Molly is also angry at him, they generally love to get angry at each other because they don't really understand each other.

They were both speaking in carefully light, polite voices that told Harry quite plainly that neither had forgotten their disagreement of the night before.

He even considers Kreacher an agent of free will.

‘You’d be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione,’ said Sirius.

As they say - where there's a will, there's a way. When people say that Kreacher was lower in the hierarchy than Sirius (as any house-elf would be), Sirius himself did not see it that way, and it’s truly paradoxical. He argued with Kreacher, kicked him, engaged in verbal battles, though he could have just given direct orders. Kreacher's insults towards Sirius were similar in style to Walburga's (otherwise, where would Kreacher learn those insults?), and Sirius... Sirius, instead of direct orders, just yells back or kicks him. When Harry gives Kreacher a direct order to shut up, Kreacher obeys instantly. A house-elf must obey the direct orders of their master. But Sirius doesn't give direct orders. Because for him, Kreacher is also an agent of free will (and also some ‘‘member‘‘ of his beloved and hated family, as Sirius is much more attached to the Blacks than he would like to admit).

Because of his attitude towards equals, Sirius fights for Harry to get the information he needs. For Sirius, Harry is an adult, not a five-year-old child who needs to be looked after in the style of Molly. Molly deprives Harry of his agency, his choice, and his own opinion with her overprotection. We have to understand Molly; she really worries for all of them, as half her family is in the Order and can die. She doesn't want to lose Harry, so she tries to protect him in every way. Plus, they all have orders from Dumbledore. Isn't Molly right? Molly has her point, she works for the Order and thinks Sirius could harm with his too "independent" behaviour, and teach Harry this excessive independence. And what does independence from Dumbledore lead to? Molly knows well (and so does Sirius) – last time such "independence" from Dumbledore cost the Potters their lives. I don't want to judge Molly. She's a member of the newer incarnation of the Order of the Phoenix, and a good one at that. Sirius, however, is still mentally in the era of the Order's original incarnation (as is Lupin, though he is more conforming and softer), a time when the rules of engagement were harsher, with much more focus on the grim realities of war. The newer version of the Order operates with different tactics – emphasizing manipulation, cunning, and caution.

Molly and Sirius have different approaches. Molly is about caution. Sirius is about action.

Sirius treats Harry as a subject, not an object to be shielded from information.

Sirius knows where his area of responsibility is and what he can influence, and where he should not interfere:

‘Not just yet, Molly,’ said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. ‘You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.’

‘I did!’ said Harry indignantly. ‘I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we’re not allowed in the Order, so –’

‘And they’re quite right,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘You’re too young.’

‘Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?’ asked Sirius. ‘Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen—’

‘How come Harry gets his questions answered?’ said Fred angrily. ‘We’ve been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven’t told us a single stinking thing!’ said George.

‘It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,’ said Sirius calmly, ‘that’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand –’

He doesn't tell the twins anything because it's not his responsibility. But Harry – that's his responsibility. And Sirius believes it's up to him to decide what Harry is allowed to know and what not (considering Dumbledore's instructions "I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly").

‘He’s not your son,’ said Sirius quietly.

‘He’s as good as,’ said Mrs Weasley fiercely. ‘Who else has he got?’

‘He’s got me!’

In the situation with Molly, you see two opposing views clash. Molly, with the archetype of a guardian, wants to shelter everyone with her care. Sirius, with the archetype of a rebel, respects Harry's wishes and wants to open up new knowledge and opportunities for him to fight.

‘He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘He’s only fifteen and –’

‘And he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,’ said Sirius, ‘and more than some.’

‘No one’s denying what he’s done!’ said Mrs Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. ‘But he’s still –’

‘He’s not a child!’ said Sirius impatiently.

Sirius probably stopped considering himself a child very early on. Maybe it came from his conservative family, where children were expected to grow up earlier, not walk around as "little children" until they were 18. They think about marriage, duty to the family, responsibility early on. Plus, wizards come of age earlier – at 17. So, for Sirius, 15 years old is not a child anymore.

That's why Sirius defends Harry's right "to know".

‘But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back’ (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name) ‘he has more right than most to –’

Sirius really encourages taking action. His way of caring isn't about coddling. It's about giving knowledge, opportunities, resources, and supporting in the right direction. For Sirius, to live is to act; he can't be without action, doesn't understand life without it:

‘Personally, I’d have welcomed a Dementor attack. A deadly struggle for my soul would have broken the monotony nicely. You think you’ve had it bad, at least you’ve been able to get out and about, stretch your legs, get into a few fights ... I’ve been stuck inside for a month.’

Sirius can't not act and he doesn't understand how you could do otherwise. He knows Harry is the same because Harry is like his dad, meaning James was the same – always acting.

And he encourages this in Harry. But he always teaches to act with thought, not just charging in. In the 4th book, Sirius was telling Harry not to stick his neck out, but in the 5th, it's the opposite. Sirius has his own logic, which he shows here:

‘So, you want me to say I’m not going to take part in the Defence group?’ he muttered finally.

‘Me? Certainly not!’ said Sirius, looking surprised. ‘I think it’s an excellent idea!’

‘You do?’ said Harry, his heart lifting.

‘Of course I do!’ said Sirius. ‘D’you think your father and I would’ve lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?’

‘But – last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks –’

‘Last year, all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘This year, we know there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!’

‘And if we do get expelled?’ Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.

‘Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,’ said Sirius.

That's Sirius through and through. A true Gryffindor, who won't just sit around when there's danger afoot. You might argue that he shouldn't have encouraged Harry in this way. But what else was he to do? Hand Harry over to Umbridge? Of course not. He trusts Harry, believes in his potential. He treats Harry as an equal, not as a child, and that's why Harry feels so connected to Sirius – at last, someone sees him as mature enough, respects him as a free person. Throughout the series, Harry has been shielded from the truth, kept in the dark, yet Sirius shows him a different kind of respect – he sees Harry as someone who can act, in whom he places his trust and belief. Is Sirius right? When it comes to Harry – absolutely. As for the war, the Order, and following Dumbledore's orders – Molly would definitely disapprove.

He even passes Molly's words on to Ron. In his sarcastic manner, but still:

… anyway ... first of all, Ron – I’ve sworn to pass on a message from your mother.’

‘Oh yeah?’ said Ron, sounding apprehensive.

‘She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you’ll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also’ (Sirius’s eyes turned to the other two) ‘advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you’d all have been in real trouble, and she can’t say it for herself because she’s on duty tonight.’

Again – a striking difference between what Molly understands by care and what Sirius understands by it.

Sirius lets Harry feel that he's believed in, respected, that his actions are encouraged. Sometimes Sirius criticises them, because as much as he encourages action, he believes all actions should be reasoned. Act according to logic, not thoughtlessly.

For instance, Sirius sternly reprimands him in the 4th book when Harry, in his opinion, does something foolish. And notice his communication style. Sirius is often blunt in conversation, in his way of talking, he doesn't sugarcoat. And Harry's okay with that. Sirius isn't one for mushiness.

Harry – what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the Forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.

Your name didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone’s trying to attack you, they’re on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practise Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn’t go amiss either. There’s nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I’m waiting for your letter giving me your word you won’t stray out of bounds again.

That's what care means to Sirius. Not forbidding him from knowing information. But actively helping him so Harry is ready to stand up to challenges.

Or like this:

‘Now, listen ...’ he looked particularly hard at Harry – ‘I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission, it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.’

‘No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of Grindylows,’ Harry said.

But Sirius scowled at him. ‘I don’t care ... I’ll breathe freely again when this Tournament’s over, and that’s not until June. And don’t forget, if you’re talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, OK?’

At the same time, he provides Harry with emotional support. Just without the mushiness. There's a sort of rough tenderness about it, making these signs of attention and love seem even more important and pleasant.

‘What’re you doing here, Sirius?’ he said.

‘Fulfilling my duty as godfather,’ said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very dog-like way. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m pretending to be a loveable stray.’

The post owls appeared, bringing Harry a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same.

He also provides Harry with real resources that can help him:

‘I want you to take this,’ he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry’s hands.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked.

‘A way of letting me know if Snape’s giving you a hard time. No, don’t open it in here!’ said Sirius, with a wary look at Mrs Weasley, who was trying to persuade the twins to wear hand-knitted mittens. ‘I doubt Molly would approve – but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?’

‘Sirius’s knife,’ he said. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that’ll open any lock,’ said Harry. ‘So even if she’s bewitched the door so Alohomora won’t work, which I bet she has –’

Sirius isn't inclined to pity. He respects the choices of others. His care is expressed in this – he knows people's strengths and trusts them to do their job. He thinks Hagrid will be okay because Hagrid is tough. Why worry?

‘Listen, don’t go asking too many questions about Hagrid,’ said Sirius hastily, ‘it’ll just draw even more attention to the fact that he’s not back and I know Dumbledore doesn’t want that. Hagrid’s tough, he’ll be OK.’

And he respects the choice of the twins' father, though many find Sirius's words harsh:

‘We don’t care about the dumb Order!’ shouted Fred.

‘It’s our dad dying we’re talking about!’ yelled George.

‘Your father knew what he was getting into and he won’t thank you for messing things up for the Order!’ said Sirius, equally angry. ‘This is how it is – this is why you’re not in the Order – you don’t understand – there are things worth dying for!’

But it's not cruelty or indifference, it's respect for their father's choice, as an agent of free will.

Sirius even treats animals this way. Look how he got on with the cat. And yet he understands that animals are defenceless and need support. He doesn't expect danger from them and often finds comfort in their company.

‘This cat isn’t mad,’ said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks’s fluffy head. ‘He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognised Peter for what he was straight away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me ...’

Kreacher injured Buckbeak the Hippogriff yesterday, and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him.’

Crookshanks, Hermione’s bandy-legged ginger cat, who wound himself once around Harry’s legs, purring, then jumped on to Sirius’s lap and curled up. Sirius scratched him absent-mindedly behind the ears as he turned, still grim-faced, to Harry.

Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats. ‘I’ve just been feeding Buckbeak,’ he added, in reply to Harry’s enquiring look. ‘I keep him upstairs in my mother’s bedroom

Soon, however, he was moodier and surlier than before, talking less to everybody, even Harry, and spending increasing amounts of time shut up in his mother’s room with Buckbeak.

He became more and more prone to what Mrs Weasley called ‘fits of the sullens’, in which he would become taciturn and grumpy, often withdrawing to Buckbeak’s room for hours at a time.

Sirius befriended the cat, treated it as an intelligent being, and constantly cared for the hippogriff. Sirius is very closed off from people (after Azkaban, he only opens up to Harry and Remus), he builds a tough armour, but easily opens up to animals and easily cares for them in a nurturing manner – and they love him back.

In conclusion, Sirius respects the free choice of others. For him, pity towards another is demeaning. Sirius hates pity – neither for himself nor for others. To pity = to demean, to pity means to acknowledge the other as incapable and weak. And Sirius doesn't meddle in others' relationships, he well separates his zone of responsibility, and care for him is to give resources and information so the person can act. And he's good with animals, and to animals, he can show a different attitude – nurturing, because acknowledging animals as weaker doesn't demean them, because animals truly are weaker.

This character trait of Sirius isn't for moral judgement, just that's how he is, and it's important to understand that.

#sirius black #the marauders #sirius black meta #the marauders meta #hp meta #sirius and harry

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universal-quoteland · 4 months

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HAZBIN HOTEL THOUGHTS

[SPOILERS]

==============================

1) Can we talk about the fact that we just hear Alastor say "FUCK YOU" to the king of hell without stuttering?! .Ma' man look at devils eyes and cursed him ! ... and if am correct is the first time we hear him saying any bad words in the show ! Fuck YEAH!

2) I love the fact that we know more about Alastor personality , like he actually cares for people or at least Charlie the must , am not sure what is my man up to, but ! I clearly saw him been anoyed to the fact that Lucifer hugged Charlie like " Man the fuck are you hugging her ,you aren't even in contact with your own daughter and you have the audacity tu hug her ! Yeah not on my watch ".

It was just as if him was pissed at the fact that he knows that he have done more for Charlie than her own father, and he is clearly not having it.

3) Love the father Daughter relationship Alastor and Charlie showed that was so sweet.

4) Lucifer was just so sweet like , i can be mad at the man , he was so exited to see his sweet girl , which only leave me with more doubts , he is clearly over protective type of dad, all jealous over Alastor stealing his little girl from him .

BUT why have him been absent in her life, was his depression that bad that he didn't have the courage to look at his daughter in the eyes ?, maybe he feels responsable for not giving her the best life she could have had in heaven ?

Also what with the Blitzo vibe, Lu y so Blitz.

5) Who have Alastor on a leash ? Why did he make a deal that make him been under others rules ? Could it be Lilith ?.

Maybe that is why he looked so down on Lucifer ? Beacuse we know this man don't do nothing with out a reason.

6) VAGGIE WAS AN EXTWRMINATOR!! the theorys were true and that was why she knew so much about Alastor and why she is the way she is ! .

7) Heaven dosn't know how souls get on heaven or Hell! That is so messtup like only the head knows that ?! So much for a corrupted sistem !

But i love how we know that not all heaven is a piece of shit! Emily is so sweet . But this just show us how grey things actually are and how Adam got to heaven because am sure we all agree he is as shitty as Valentino... well maybe not that much , but you all get me !

8) Also my boy Angel have done so good! He is actualy making progress !

CONCLUSIONS:

Even thought we have so much info in two episodes we can just wait and see for more , i hope they stop with the fast information drop , they could have given us this info in so much more episodes but maybe they know what they are doing , so far i have love it all and the characters personalities growing and letting us know that there is more on them that we can see at first.

Also i think i saw Molly on heaven :0.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #vaggie #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust

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syrupgirl · 1 year

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this is a request lol but i havent seen really anything on the ATWOW characters and a chubby!human reader. like would they like her belly? would they like how “squishy” she is? what are your thoughts on this:)❤️

a/n: wasn’t sure if I should interpret this as a full fic request or just my thoughts so i mixed the two and turned in more of a hc direction! I also tried to keep this written in a way that could be perceived as either romantic or platonic (Tuk is most definitely platonic tho) :p

The beautiful bodies we are in -assorted ATWOW characters

As a general rule of thumb, I think all of the characters would be a lil curious, as all Na’vi we have seen have been quite slender. But I truthfully can’t see anyone of them being anything but generally indifferent towards readers body type :)

JAKE

Jake wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

๑༄ ‧₊˚Like I said, I can’t see anyone being feeling any type of negative way about a reader’s body and that applies to Jake, too. If, for whatever reason, you were insecure about your body because of your weight or size, he would comfort you the best he could.

NEYTIRI

Has you in high regard because she believes you’re absolutely stunning

๑༄ ‧₊˚Don’t ask me where this came from, but I just think Neytiri would find you absolutely gorgeous. Not in the ‘awwww so adorable like a puppy’ way but ‘Oh my goodness you are ethereal’

NETEYAM

Fascinated but then just treats you like he would anyone else :)

๑༄ ‧₊˚ Depending on whether you grew up with the Sully’s (like Spider) or you met them later in life, they would have different ‘first impressions’ when it comes to your body type! Growing up with them from a young child, he would probably just know that human bodies behave differently to Na’vi bodies and that’s normal. If you were introduced when he was a bit older, he might ask a few questions, like, is there a reason for it? but after you explained that it is just how your body is for no particular reason, he would just say okay! and happily move on with his day

KIRI

Small, silent, fascination to respect and love

๑༄ ‧₊˚My homegirl Kiri, hard to get a read on her tbh. Again, NOTHING negative. EVER. She might ask if it is an evolutionary thing for humans? To which you would answer no, not really, just how my body grows and she would understand that and stop the questioning. Would hate to make you uncomfortable in any way or make you feel alienated or estranged so probably doesn’t comment on your body much after that or at all.

LO’AK

Possibly less…restrictive with his questions but not less respectful in the end

๑༄ ‧₊˚He probably runs the risk of asking an innocent question in a direct way that is really fkn rude like ‘why do you look like that?’ when what he really means is ‘hey, why is your body different than mine? that’s interesting’ If he could see you took offence, he would immediately apologise and try to formulate his question better. Much like his mother, I think he adores you and your body to no end. I also feel like he would say ‘there’s more of you to love’ and would like to be touching you all the time. Likes to lay on your tumtum and talk to you

TUKTIREY

she’s just a babyyyy my babbyyyy

๑༄ ‧₊˚ Whether or not you were around since she was small(er) or not, I don’t think she would have any types of feelings since she’s so liddle. Maybe a frequent series of hugs now and then and a you’re so warm and soft muttered into your stomach while she’s smushed there but that’s just normal for her.

TONOWARI

This man…I love this man and he loves you

๑༄ ‧₊˚Like Neytiri, you would be his deity. Maybe it’s me projecting how I want to be worshipped by this blue alien but good golly miss molly. He loves every little bit of you and just wants to hug and squeeze you all the time. I have to stop before I gush over him too much (also yes, it would be hard to take this in a platonic sense even tho i said i would try to keep it neutral 💀)

RONAL

I don’t have a good grasp on m’lady Ronal

๑༄ ‧₊˚She is just a skeptical lady, you could probably catch her looking at you out of the corner of your eye and she doesn’t even bother looking away once you’ve caught her. Her interest about your body isn’t based on anything negative ofc just complete fascination.

a/n: while writing this, I tried to not alienate the reader because of their size as I know that just isn’t on. I truly hope I didn’t cross any lines <3 If you would like this same concept with a specific character, feel free to send in a request :p

#avatar fanfiction #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #ronal x reader #tonowari x reader #neteyam #lo’ak #jake sully #kiri #tuktirey #chubby!reader

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 8 months

Text

BUTTERFLIES

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: George gets flashbacks of your relationship as he watches you walk down the aisle to marry him Warnings: mention of tears, i think that's it

George's eyes met yours as he stood at the end of the aisle, waiting there for you to reach him as you walked to the music

the butterflies made their appearance in his stomach as he stared at you with pure love and longing

he had waited years for this, and it was finally happening

George couldn't help but remember all the times the butterflies invaded him stomach throughout knowing you before this moment

"Fred! George! hurry up, we're late!" Molly yelled at the twins

"we're right behind you mum, and the train doesn't leave for another 3 minutes!" Fred spoke in defense, trailing after Molly.

Molly rushed all of her kids through the wall of the train station.

Fred and George ran through it for the first time with their trolleys, which held their luggage for their first year at Hogwarts

George went through the wall and came out on the other side, slightly losing control of his trolley and bumping into somebody, making them fall

George panicked as he heard them wince in pain

he let go of his trolley and looked down at you on the ground

"I'm really sorry" he apologised, holding his hand out to help you

"it's fine" you huffed, taking the boys hand

"I'm Y/n" you introduced yourself

George felt a flutter inside his heart when you smiled at him sweetly

"George, are you alright?" he asked after telling you his name

"I'll be just fine"

"we're so going to make the team, Georgie" Fred smiled as a large group of Gryffindors huddled up for tryouts for Quidditch

"we'll be the best beaters on the team" Fred smirked

Oliver wood started talking about the rules and taking down what positions people wanted to play

"Y/L/N, what are you trying out for?" Wood called, seeing you in amongst the people

"Chaser" you replied

George turned around to see you with the newest broomstick in your hands, standing with Angelina Johnson

"you play quidditch?" George questioned as you caught his stare

"yeah, i do. is that a problem?" you frowned, teasing him

"n- no" he stuttered, feeling the nervous butterflies rise up in his stomach as you glared at him

"i'm just surprised, you didn't strike me as a quidditch type of girl" he went on

"I bet I'm better than you" you laughed, looking him up and down

George only blinked nervously

Fred and George rushed through hogsmeade to finally get to the store they've heard all about from their brothers

the twins excitedly walked through the door of Zonko's to look at all the things they dream they could have

George explored the shop, going in a completely different direction from his older twin to find you looking hiccough sweets

"never thought i'd see you in here" George spoke up with a smile

you turned to him and rolled your eyes with a grin

"what can I say, i like the common sweet prank" you grabbed a few and walked closer to him

"although i know you and Fred are the kings of pranks here so, any suggestions on what's good? I need teach a douchebag a lesson for burning my homework" you smirked

George raised his eyebrows "Tristen?" he asked

you nodded your head in reply

"I've always been interesting in tricking somebody but never really acted upon it, this just gives me a reason" you shrugged mischievously

George's 13 year old heart pumped faster in his chest as the butterflies swarmed in his stomach

you couldn't've gotten any better

"well...you could always try some dungbombs, they always do the trick or..."

he went on to have a ramble for about 10 minutes that day, telling you the best way to get Tristen back, and even offered to do it with you

George sat on the couch, head in his hands as he thought about Ginny, worrying about her

you had walked in after a long study session for potions when you found him in the common room, looking stressed

"you ok there, George?" you wondered, not knowing what to do

"I'm fine, don't worry" he sighed

Fred had gone to bed, also worrying while George decided to stay up a bit longer

you had heard about what happened to his sister, so you knew he wasn't entirely 'fine'

so you stayed with him, you slowly walked up to the couch and sat next to him

"I'm really sorry about your sister...it'll be ok though, I'm sure she can handle whatever's happening" you started, hoping it would help, even it was a lie. you didn't know it would be ok

George sat frozen, if it were anyone else next to him, he probably wouldn't yelled at them, saying that they had no idea. but he knew you were trying to help

"she'll be ok, George" you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sad smile even though he wasn't looking at you

"she's lucky to have a brother like you...caring as much as you are" you sighed

that made George finally look up at you

you moved your hand from his shoulder to around his torso, giving him a comforting hug

the way your hands wrapped around him made the butterflies make another appearance, George had been used to them by now, he welcomed them in with a smile as he hugged you back

George had grown closer to you, becoming good- if not best friends

you would help with his school work and with his and Fred's pranks

the one problem was that you had a boyfriend that year, but not for long

you came rushing through the common room, tears in your eyes as you ran for the dorms

"hey, Y/n, what's wrong!?" George came to your aid as soon as he saw you

he got up from the couch and pulled you into his arms before you got to the stairs

you cried in his arms "he cheated on me" you murmured

your words made George's blood boil, He never liked that guy, and deep down he knew he would do something to hurt you

he brought you over to the couch and made you tell him what fully happened

"why do the nice ones always turn out to be the assholes?" you wept

"well if they're assholes then they were never the good ones, the good ones are the good ones and the assholes are the assholes" George shrugged, he didn't know what to say

he had never been in a relationship before, mostly because of the way you had always made him feel

"well why can't they all be like you? you're good, great" you sobbed

George cleared his throat, caught off guard by your statement

he let the butterflies fill his stomach as you cried into his chest, telling him how he would be a good boyfriend

George stood beside you as the professor told the class about the potion

you, along with many other girls took a step closer, entranced by the smell of the potion.

Amortentia.

George laughed at you when you smiled lazily, your eyes almost almost having pink hearts in them as you breathed the scnet in

what George hadn't expected was to get the very strong scent of you as he finally breathed through his nose

George took a step beck and cleared his throat, looking at you in the corner of his eye as he let the smell fill his nose

the butterflies rose to his stomach and made him feel faint, feeling overwhelmed

you had noticed his faint figure beside you and leaned closer to him

"you alright Georgie?" you whispered

"I'll be just fine, Love"

George wandered the halls, trying to find you, to ask you to the Yule Ball, after smelling you in the Amortentia last week, he realised that he needs to ask you out

the feeling he gets when he's around you is too good to lose

he heard your voice behind him and turned around

"george! there you are!" you beamed

"hey! I've been looking for you" he asked, meeting you in the middle of the hallway

"me too, I need to ask you something" you said

"oh, you go first" George spoke quickly, really wanting to ask you, or he'll start to overthink and chicken out

"do you have something to tell me too?" she wondered

"yeah but you go first" George smiled

"well I was just thinking...Justin Thornhill asked me to the ball at breakfast this morning, I don't know why I told you that- right, um. well I said no, obviously. b- because I want to go with you. do you want to go to the ball with me?" you rambled, getting to the question that has been on your tongue for a week

George's eyes went wide and the butterflies piled into his stomach as soon as the question came from your mouth.

you had said what he'd been dying to say

George's heart pumped inside his chest rapidly, he almost thought you could hear it

"yes, t- that's what I was going to ask you!" George grinned happily

it was safe to say the butterflies never left after that, every time he'd see you after that, they would pop in and say hello

the whole night of the ball they stayed there

George fiddled with his fingers as he told you his plan on leaving with Fred early to start the shop

you had been dating since the day after the yule ball and he was nervous you wouldn't support it, just like his mum

"that's..great! I'm really proud of you, I know you'll do great" you said, kissing his cheek

"really?" he raised his eyebrows

"of course...the shop will be amazing, I just know it" you nodded, full heartedly supporting him

you had no idea how much that meant for him to hear, that you thought he'd do good, that you supported him

it made the butterflies flutter in his stomach, knowing that you approved of what he's doing

George felt the tears coming when you finally reached him, taking his hand and smiling up at him, happy that you would be marrying him

and all these years, he still gets butterflies when you look at him

--------------------------------------------

#george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x fem #oliver phelps #x fem!reader #oneshot #fluff #cute #imagines #harry potter universe

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cherry-pop-elf · 1 month

Note

could i ask for headcanons of what petnames / endearments the Weasleys like to be called by their significant other 😄

thank you if you do! and thanks anyways for reading this even if you don't 😊

Oh my god this is so adorable yes yes yes yes yes-! The flip side of what the Weasley call you. Now THEY must be attacked with the affection mwhaahahah!!!!

Nick Names The Weasley Siblings Like To Be called By

William ‘Bill’

His siblings, and the goblins at the bank, get to give him little wolf inspired nick names. Anyone else will be stabbed. But you are the exception to the rule. He won’t lie. He always gets flustered whenever you call him “Mr. Wolf” all teasingly, in a sing song tone. What gets him red in the face is you calling him “Red Riding Hood-“ Tho. As a flip of the script, and also the fact he’s a red head. That’s the only nick name you are blessed with saying. Calling him Red, Big Red Wolf, and other teasing nick names of that nature. Maybe the Weasley twins, on a good day, but you are his little fairy tale.

Charlie

He’s the playboy type, so you calling him Big Boy is a winner. Daddy to. That’s one way to get his engine going real fast. He does have a nick name he likes that you are only allowed to say, and not infront of company. Amber. He likes the nick name amber. A cute play on the fact many dragons of hoards, and a compliment to his ginger hair. Makes him feel like he’s precious. Big guys deserve to feel soft.

Percy

He’s not really one for nicknames. It feels childish to him. He has an image to uphold. He’s always trying to act like he’s the exception and what everyone aspires to be. Doesn’t help Molly fed that idea to him. Still, what gets him to flush will be those cheesey wifey names. Calling him Pumpkin, Honey, Dear, Darling. The classics. Hey, his nose is always in books. He’s got that hopeless romantic in him.

Fred

Freddy, kinda a given. A names branching off that. It’s simple and classic. But everyone does that. Like Charlie, he’s a sucker for the Big Boy comments. His real heart stopper, though, gotta be Boss/Bossman. Bossman in the playful tone, and Boss for the…You know what tone. What can he say? It feels good to be in charge.

George

Similar to Fred. Georgie though gets to him a lot. He loved being called Georgie. Along with very sugary names. Like Pumpkin, Sugar, Cupcake, Sweetie, stuff like that. He’s adorable like that. He loves flirty nick names. He just loves it. Call him Teddy Bear, and he’s puddy in your arms. Since he loves hugs and cuddles.

Ron

Ever since his sixth year at Hogwarts, he’s kinda not the most excited by nicknames. Can you blame him? He LITERALLY got drugged. Bro. There is an exception, though. It sounds egotistical, but it really isn’t. He loves when you call him “My Hero.” He doesn’t really feel appreciated or as loved as the others. He deserves to feel special. He’s not smart like Hermione, special like Harry, and don’t get him started on his siblings. Make him feel special. He deserves it.

Ginny

She has a weird thing about her femmnity. Not because she was raised by brothers. Just that she is excepted to be femmine, and gets called a pick me for not being it. So Nick names are very but it miss. Her siblings get a pass, but still. You gotta find that special one. You took notice how her siblings did dumb names. Like to make fun of the act of Nick names. Such as Gin Gin, Ginger Ale. Stuff like that. So, one day, you called her your “EnerGinny Drink-“ She laughed so hard she fell off her broom. Now you have an inside joke that her nick name is “Energy.” Only the twins figured it out, but are bros and keep hushed. So you two can have your special inside joke.

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greenerteacups · 4 months

Note

Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?

Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.

So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.

Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.

#i'm excluding arthur and molly because i assume they're off the table #and they don't get a ton of characterization in the series #they're sort of the archetypal 'Good Parent' figures who represent goodness and nurturing #which is ironic because. again. the weasley household is not perfect #and it creates significant problems for ron and by extent the golden trio when the weasley drama #spills over and starts to create actual plot problems. e.g. percy #I think it's absolutely no accident that Percy and Ron have parallel arcs in Deathly Hallows #they both run away from their family and have a prodigal-son moment #very telling about their respective characters I believe #in short. there are two kinds of Weasleys: the “number one” and the “number two”#the tragedy of number one (bill charlie ginny) is that their problems are dismissed by no. 2 because “you're good at everything!”#the tragedy of number two (percy twins ron) is that their self-doubt is being constantly & implicitly affirmed by the existence of no. 1

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angelsanarchy · 2 months

Text

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 07

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @vixenhatesyou

Sicky and Mike walked into a bar and the first thing he noticed was Y/n behind the bar. It was pretty packed up for a Wednesday night but Y/n was in her element. She had a very personable attitude when it came to random people. She treated everyone like she has known them forever. Even when people would get annoying, she kept her wits about her when kicking them out of the bar or cutting them off.

"Don't think you're getting anything for free." Sicky commented sitting on a barstool. Mike sat next to him as she approached.

"Decided to ugly up the place tonight?" She popped a cap off a beer and put it in front of Sicky.

"I figured I would show Mighty Mouse around your real 9 to 5." Sicky smirked as she stopped in front of Mike.

"How sweet. How's my favorite cowboy tonight?" She smiled leaning against the bar.

"Better now. This place is nice." He looked around and she nodded.

"Thanks, it's my baby. What can I get you to drink? First one is on the house, everything after is double." She winked.

"Just a beer is fine. I'm not particular." Mike trusted her taste. She grabbed him a beer that was noticeably not the same as what Sicky ordered and opened it for him.

"The only rules of my bar is to keep it clean. No drugs in here, no fighting and if you play pool, play straight or not at all." Y/n explained. Sicky grunted as he sipped his beer.

"She's a real stickler about the no fighting rule." Sicky elbowed Mike and he almost spit his beer out.

"You boys play nice. I've got a job to do." Y/n walked back to the end of the bar and greeted new customers. Mike sat back on his barstool and looked around the bar.

"You see those guys over there, with the face tattoos and gold chain? That's some of Keller's guys. They control the pill train on the lower East side. You don't talk business with them ever or Leff will take your eye out." Sicky explained.

"Pills...like what my mom was into or-" Sicky cut him off.

"No more so party pills, uppers, E, Molly. Young kiddy shit." Sicky clarified.

"The Spaniards by the door are Alverez Kings. Most of our parts and smuggled goods run through them. They're not bad to have a beer with but don't drink hard liquor with them. They get up in arms when you call them Mexican." Sicky chuckled sending a head nod towards them. They responded calling him a gringo and nodding back.

"They pussy that runs and out of here is night club pussy so be careful who you go home with or you'll wake up without a wallet and pricey belongings." Sicky blew a kiss at a leggy blonde near the jukebox.

"I'm sure they all aren't so bad." Mike smiled at one who was eyeing him.

"Yeah okay, you keep thinking that lad. I'm going to find me some tail. Stay out of trouble." Sicky slapped Mike on the back before joining the blonde who had been flirting with him. Mike finished off his beer and before he could even lift his head, Y/n had appeared in front of him with another and a smile.

"You aren't looking to mingle with the many gorgeous women?" Y/n took a sip of his beer before handing it to him.

"I am mingling with a gorgeous woman." Mike flirted making her laugh.

"One that might actually lay you tonight." She teased.

"Hey I ordered furniture. Who's to say it can't be your lucky night." He reached out for her hand and she laughed letting him hold her hand.

"Yeah? What did you order?" She leaned on the bartop as he opened his phone to show her the pictures of the couch and few different things he got.

"I like this one. I thought for sure you would get a leather couch." She teased.

"Gets too cold in the winter to have a leather couch. Wouldn't want you getting cold." He smirked watching her scroll through the rest of the pictures until a photo of his cock popped up.

"Oh-" He went to grab the phone and she leaned back with it.

"No no, we're here now. It's best we look at it together." She taunted holding the phone away from him.

"Did you suddenly develop shame in the last 5 seconds or can I look?" She asked knowing the game they played with one another was fun but consent was important to her.

"I mean...it's not recent so-" He blushed slightly but she smiled leaning against the bar again.

"Who are you taking dick pics for then?" She asked curiously.

"I got bored my first day in New York. It's a few months old." He watched her face as she gazed at the picture of his cock. It wasn't a bad photo but he wished it was a better one.

"It's not a bad cock. I could work with that." She bit her lip.

"Yeah?" Mike licked his lips as she leaned closer towards him.

"Better hurry up and get that couch." She handed him his phone back and he felt a shiver run up his arm when she ran her nails over his wrist.

He couldn't think of anything to say but before he could, a loud male voice boomed over the music and stalked right up to the bar, leaning across and grabbing Y/n by the chin to plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. Mike's blood started to boil and he felt a crimson flush run up his neck.

"Hey baby, what are you still doing here?" The tall guy said letting go of her chin.

"I'm working clearly. I told you I wouldn't be over until late." She reminded him, glancing over to see Mike stewing. The guy followed her gaze and chuckled.

"You letting kids drink now? You trying to catch a charge?" He asked making Mike glare.

"Malik-"

"I'm kidding. What's your name kid?" Malik hit his shoulder playfully and Mike stood up from his barstool.

"This is Mike, Leff's nephew. I told you about him." Mike looked over at Y/n intrigued that she's spoken to this goon about him.

"Oh yeah, Billy the kid. How's it going man?" He shook Mike's hand and Mike gave him a nod.

"It's going...Marcus was it?" Mike knew his name but he didn't care to repeat it.

"Malik. Do you mind if I steal her away from you? We've got plans." He said helping her climb over the bar. She landed on her feet and put her hand on his chest.

"Let me say goodbye and I'll meet you outside." Y/n said making Malik throw his hand up in a wave to Mike before walking away.

"Don't get too drunk and don't let any of those girls take your wallet." Y/n smiled at him. He didn't bother responding to her, he just turned back to the bar and watched her run out of the bar with the Goliath sized guy named Malik. She had told him she didn't have a boyfriend but apparently she had someone, a very large someone that could probably crush every bone in his body.

Tonight was a drink your sorrows kinda night and NOT think about someone else getting to fuck Y/N tonight.

#Mike #Mike x Y/N #5lbs of Pressure #One Shot Series #Fever Dreams #Fever Dreams Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult

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utilitycaster · 1 year

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Would LOVE that essay on combat in dnd because full agree. But not even just for people watching live play, like, combat is an essential feature of dnd as a game system and it endlessly frustrates me when i see dms be like “yeah combat is just too complicated and no fun so i dont do it in my game :)!” Like i guess thats your right, but any non-caster class is gonna be miserable in your game. I saw a video recently talking about how dnd has kind of become the default ttrpg and is marketed as the perfect system for everyone and any style of play which is just. So not true. Combat in dnd is equally as integral as roleplay is and theres really no argument otherwise. Very valid if you hate dnd combat, it sure isnt for everyone, but in that case maybe play a different ttrpg where the characters arent constructed around combat abilities, i promise you’ll have more fun.

So this is one of those things that touches on maybe 99% of my feelings on Experiencing Fiction in general and actual play in particular; I apologize in advance for the length and digressions within this response.

Here are the reasons I have seen or I surmise why people don’t like D&D combat, either in actual play or in home games:

It can get crunchy and involves a lot of rules

There are long stretches in which individuals do not necessarily act (not exclusive to combat but I think this is a factor)

It contains violence

There is a potential for character death

Now, it’s fine if you aren’t interested in D&D-style combat, for whatever reason, when you play ttrpgs. It’s just that this is a core feature of D&D. As you say, this is what the martial classes are structured around - and, frankly, no small number of casting classes/subclasses as well. By avoiding it when you play D&D, you’re avoiding the bulk of the game, and there are plenty of ttrpgs that permit open RP that aren’t combat focused that would probably fit your needs better (eg: PbtA and Savage Worlds are both generic systems that can support a heroic fantasy like D&D without the emphasis on combat skills). I happen to love and prefer D&D, but that is specifically because I love combat, and yeah, there are other games and people should seek out those games if they don’t like combat.

When it comes to D&D actual play though…skipping combat is just straight-up stupid. And to be clear I mean fully skipping it and not watching it at all; while this is piggybacking off my post about spoilers, it’s fine if you are the sort of person who needs to know how combat ends in order to enjoy it! That’s just a personal preference that I respect even if I don’t share it.

D&D combat isn’t just an inherent part of the game; it’s an inherent part of the story. The idea of D&D being split into combat and RP is a false dichotomy. There is RP and crucial story within combat scenes, and you simply do not achieve the same effects by reading an after-the-fact summary. To use examples from Critical Role, consider one of the most famous RP moments from Campaign 1, when Scanlan uses his 9th level counterspell in the Vecna fight. The weight of that moment derives from mechanics and from the fact that it is in the midst of combat and well into a climatic final battle. Or for lighter examples, there’s a ton of Beau/Yasha and Fjord/Jester mid-combat flirting running through much of Campaign 2 that informs those relationships. Molly’s death? Caleb going into a fugue state when he kills humanoids with fire? Yasha destroying Obann? Fjord dying mid-deep scion fight? Those are all moments that have deep character weight and meaning that are within the context of combat, and you cannot divorce them from that context and hope to retain the same effect.

This is what dovetails into a larger discussion of Experiencing Fiction which is a (in my opinion) worrying tendency among some people to truly believe that you can cut up media into the palatable bits and pieces and push all of what you see as icky vegetables to the side of your plate. I fucking hate this. I think it’s what drives a lot of things including a distaste for combat. This is how you get, for example, people who dislike combat because Violence And Death Bad, which, do I think that in the real world violence is most often a thing to be avoided? Do I think that in the real world death is heartbreaking? Yes, but this is fiction. There’s that great Brennan Lee Mulligan quote about how TTRPGs like D&D allow people who usually must be conflict-avoidant in real life to let out their anger and frustration in a place where it is safe and harmless, and I believe that whole-heartedly. I want stories about death because I want to know I'm not alone in how I feel about death. I want stories in which people can express their rage in ways both healthy and unhealthy, because big same. (I also think it’s absolutely not coincidental that people who believe they are ‘protecting’ people by circumscribing what is acceptable in fiction tend to be strongly associated with either bigoted, violent policies in real life, or harassment and doxxing online; maybe enjoy a fucked up movie, as John Waters once said, and you'll calm down.)

This idea that you can cut up media and only consume what you like is also what I think is behind some of the really ill-considered and overly granular timestamped content warnings I’ve mentioned previously. It is fine if there are things you don’t want to watch or which will be upsetting or even triggering to watch! It’s fine if you as an individual don’t like violence! But I think there’s a problem when people believe they are entitled to be able to watch whatever they want and have it mold to their exact wants and needs (and that it’s a failing if it doesn’t), rather than taking on the responsibility of seeking out media that already fits the bill. Actual Play D&D will nearly always have violent encounters. If this will be an issue this is not for you. It is not gatekeeping to say “you can come through this gate, but the gate is in fact here for your specifically requested protection"; and yet people think that instead, gates should be placed around everything else. So (to give an example) this is why the warnings for D20’s Neverafter strike me as a symptom of this larger problem - if you have discomfort with violence towards animals and children, that’s fine, but you are watching a D&D horror series in which over half the player characters are either animals or children. This is not something where you can skip a few seconds of a flashing gif that might be a migraine or seizure trigger, or a case where an exceptionally rough scene of gaslighting can be read instead of watched; this is inherent to the show, and if this is not for you, you need to go elsewhere.

To give one last example, I was looking for fanart for Worlds Beyond Number, and came across a picture of Suvi with a caption of “Suvi but without the imperialism” and like…Aabria has said in interviews that this engagement with the empire is extremely deliberate; that Suvi is intended to be tied into the political structures of this world as an intentional contrast with Eursulon’s status as an outsider and Ame’s role at the smaller, community level. Suvi without imperialism is not identifiable as the same character and it throws the entire story off-kilter; she is of this empire and that is the fucking point. Any story worth telling is not just items thrown haphazardly into a bowl; they are combined and mixed. Someone is giving you a plate of brownies and you are acting like it’s physically possible to take out the cocoa powder without fucking the end result, and buddy, it’s not.

(Truly, I was not joking when I said this is like, the load-bearing pillar of most of my complaints about fiction consumption patterns in general. This is about how people will deny the flaws in characters even though any reasonably intelligent ten-year-old, and I know because I fucking was one once, understands that person vs. themself is one of the core conflicts and overcoming one’s flaws is in many cases the entire story and if you start out perfect there is nothing to be said. Like…I think a lot of people genuinely just want to watch a nonstop Monterey Bay Otter Cam of their sufficiently sanitized, focus-group-tested blorbos baking cookies together, and are affronted when people with the tiniest sliver of empathy and/or curiosity want a story with plot and character growth, which in turn require conflict.)

Anyway. I think the takeaways here are that there’s this awful entitlement people have in which they think that they can simply consume anything and it is the failure of that media if it doesn’t cater specifically to them, rather than a failure of them to seek out that which they would enjoy (and I could go on this rant indefinitely; it is truly the most constant theme among Takes I Think Are Dumb); and also I really want to bake something right now, given my choices of metaphor. Combat is part of D&D as a game and as a storytelling medium, and it is incumbent upon people who do not like combat to find something that doesn’t have D&D combat, rather than try to pull out the vital organs of the story.

#answered #faltermoth #long post #to continue with food metaphors it's really like. you are going to an italian restaurant and being mad there are tomatoes there #girl why are you at the devil's sacrament and so forth #i was going to make a joke about bombing all your coffee shop aus but actually i read a coffee shop au that was like. dark. and good.#(it was also professionally published in a work specifically about retellings though)

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 2 months

Text

Mind the Gap, Chapter 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Matt Murdock & Reader (Platonic)

Rating: E

Word count (per chapter): ~500 (Just to set the story up, future chapters will be longer!)

Story Summary: When Michael gets sent across the pond to fix an issue with the Kinsella clan's drug trade expansion into New York City, he never expected to meet and fall for a pretty law clerk from the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. But when she gets abducted by a rival cartel, Michael will have to enlist the help of the very vigilante that's trying to take down his entire operation.

Warnings/Tags: Kin/Daredevil crossover, Canon-typical violence (for both shows), Platonic Matt Murdock/Reader, Smut in later chapters, More tags to come

A/N: After announcing this MONTHS ago, it's finally here -- the Daredevil/Kin crossover no one asked for, but I decided to write anyway. Lol

Note that this is a Michael Kinsella x Reader fic -- there is no love triangle between Mikey, Reader, and Matt.

If you want to be added to the taglist for this or any of my other ongoing stories, or if I was supposed to tag you/tagged you in error, please let me know!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @shouldbestudying41 @finnishjerseygirl @ednaaa-04 @ebathory997 @beezusvreeland @capylore

Fuckin' hell, let's get this over with, Michael Kinsella thought to himself as he trudged up the driveway to his sister-in-law’s house.

He had just gotten word that the Garda had wrapped up their investigation into his father's and uncle’s deaths and had ruled the case a murder-suicide -- therefore clearing him from further questioning -- when Amanda had texted that she was calling a meeting.

Amanda opened the door before he had even reached it. “Hey,” she said.

Michael walked in. “Hi.”

Amanda closed the door behind him. “Hadn't seen ya in a while.”

Aye, and there's a fuckin' reason for tha’, Michael thought.

As Amanda had started taking over more and more territory and doing whatever she had to in order to stay on top, Michael had realized that it hadn't ever been him that she had wanted, it had been the Kinsella name and the power and prestige that had come with it.

While he hadn't ever regretted having Jamie, he had regretted sleeping with Amanda when she had come on to him while Jimmy had been in prison all those years ago and again more recently when her marriage had been falling apart and Michael had been dealing with finding out about Molly being engaged.

He shrugged. “Been busy.”

“Wan’ a drink?”

Michael shook his head. What he wanted was to go back home.

Amanda pursed her lips, but before she could say anything else, Birdy arrived.

“So what's ya call a meetin’ for?” Michael asked once they had all sat down at Amanda's kitchen table.

Amanda folded her hands together in front of her and leaned forward. “I called ya over because we're takin’ over some operations in America and I need ya ta go oversee tha transfer. There's been some issues.”

Michael was taken aback. “Me? Why me?”

“Because we're all busy -- I’m tryin’ ta clean up tha mess Bren left while also dealin’ wit' Jimmy's shite, Viking is workin' on getting tha houses reopened, and Birdy's still dealin’ with Frank's estate. Yer’ that only one left who we can trust ta take care a’ things.”

“Plus I think it'll be good for ya to get away for a while ‘till things settle down again,” Birdy added.

Michael shook his head. “Are ya forgettin’ tha’ I'm a convicted felon? They won' even let me on a plane, much less inta another country.”

“Tha's already taken care of.” Birdy picked up a manilla envelope off of the table and handed it to him. “Everything is in here.”

Michael opened it to find an ID and passport.

He looked at the ID. “Michael O’Brien?”

Amanda shrugged. “Best we could do on short notice. ‘Least ya get ta go by yer first name.”

Birdy cut her eyes over to Amanda briefly before turning back towards Michael. “Flight’s already booked. Ya leave on Thursday.”

Michael sighed, resigned. “Where exactly am I goin?”

A satisfied look spread across Amanda's face as she leaned back. “New York City.”

#lotmf writes #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella fanfiction #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc #Mind the Gap Masterlist

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