#those defective hips

[myownjadedpieceofmind]

Official notes are official. *sad trombone*

So, yeah...I said I thought i might have torn my hip labrum. Seems as though abnormal is normal for me, and that detached feeling isn't just a feeling. That shit really isn't attached, at MULTIPLE points of the socket.

This isn't good news. I'm not sure what the next step is, as I have to wait for the Dr's office to call me and then for an orthopedic dr to see me, and then who knows. ("Don't Google your diagnosis" but you know I did it anyway and it says I'm looking at a surgery no matter what...and quite a few people I talked to said it looked like I was headed for hip replacement.)

New hip, who dis?

Stop. It's too soon.

But really... bifocals, hip replacement, soon to be false teeth. I'm filling out my bingo card, kids. If tumblr has a senior citizens center, lemme know where to meet for lunch.

🤣😆😳😳😶😖😪😭😭😭😭😭

#im so done #this is all too much #tumblr senior citizens club #sign me up #im falling apart #and it hurts so much #chronic pain #invisible disability #ehlers danlos life #those hips #those defective hips #hip replacement #detached labrum #laughing til i cry #or crying til i laugh #jokes on me #defective body parts

[sugrhigh]

FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )

summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.

warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo

“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.

“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.

it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.

“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.

“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.

“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.

“gross.”

“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”

“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.

“keep lying.”

you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”

“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.

“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.

“oh for sure.”

he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.

“someone’s confident.” you laugh.

“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”

“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”

“that’s because i’m not trying to.”

for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.

you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.

it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.

“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.

chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”

“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.

a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”

“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.

“no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“i just want to sleep.” you lie.

chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.

you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.

“now you’re just humoring me.”

he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”

you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.

“do i?” you question.

“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”

“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.

“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.

“if you insist.”

you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.

“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.

“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“don’t move like that.”

“i’m not allowed to move now?”

“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.

“oh.”

your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.

“who’s scared now, huh?”

you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.

he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.

you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.

“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.

“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.

you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.

you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.

“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.

“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.

his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.

“fuck.” you gasp quietly.

“no bra, huh? just for me?”

chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.

his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.

just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.

you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.

“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.

his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.

“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.

you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.

you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.

chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.

you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.

he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.

it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.

“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.

he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.

you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.

chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.

“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.

ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.

without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.

“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.

you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.

you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.

“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.

“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.

“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.

“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.

his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.

“spit.���

fuck, this is hot.

you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.

chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.

“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.

he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.

“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.

he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.

“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.

“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”

such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.

he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.

“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.

“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”

his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.

“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”

“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.

his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“i’m—”

“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.

“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.

he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.

“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.

“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.

you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.

“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #oneshot

[timedhoney]

MDNI.

You're pathetically twirling your noodles as you look at Mingyu, feigning disinterest in hopes he can't see right through you.

He's splayed beside you in bed, those stunning eyes glinting up at you from where his head sits on your chest. His hand sits teasingly along the hem of your shirt, the warmth and size putting your poor heart through laps around your chest.

Take out boxes are strewn all over your plaid sheets: a lone crab rangoon, a pair of postickers, and fried rice already frustratingly escaping into the bed. You pick at the defecting grains to toss back in to the box, waiting for him to speak.

“Let me see them,” he laughs, flinging first the tv remote and then the duvet back behind him. You pair your rolling eyes with a smile as you lift up your shirt.

“This might be the best Friday night tradition we have,” you inform him around a bite of orange chicken.

"Who goes out on a Friday these days anyway?" He cheekily responds, obscenely licking at your clavicle just to get a reaction out of you. It works, and you wiggle further into his waiting arms.

You've chosen to watch a corny action movie; he's chosen to watch how stunning your tits look in the powder blue bra you've revealed to him. You can't wait for him to shimmy down your shorts so he can see you have the panties to complete the set.

This is the tradition: he buys the two of you takeout, you watch whatever was just released for streaming, and he gets to eat you out. How it started, you can never quite remember. But you're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He lets out a quiet groan of satisfaction, more for himself than for you. His hands grab and pull at your hips greedily, taking in the flesh languidly. He pushes your thighs apart and settles his hips between them so he can get into a proper position to pinch your nipples.

He always knows exactly how to wind you up, obscenely groping you in a way that makes you drool. His long fingers gripping and pulling and pinching at the swell of you. His warm tongue following to soothe the reddened skin.

You watch as he peels his leg up, the imprint of his buckle leaving its signature along the inside of your thigh. Why does he still have clothes on….?

"Your biceps look so amazing wrapped around me," you whine, watching as they swell and contract. You feel mesmerized by how he shifts your hips further down the bed so he can better stick his tongue between your legs.

“Mingyu-“ whatever praises are about to leave you fall off when his lips wrap around your clit and suck. He spreads you open to sloppily kiss at your clit and cunt, warming you up before he sticks his tongue inside you. Wow.

He alternates between flicks and drags, fingers spreading you open so he can keep his attention focused in on your clit. The pleasant sting of his scalp as you pull at his hair tells him to keep soldiering on.

The reward is well worth it as he pulls moans from you easily, chin shimmering from your excitement. He can tell you’re close by the way you clamp around his ears.

Your orgasm is gentle, and you shake around his as you let it wash over you. He flops next to you, smug as you nestle into him.

“Wait so what’s the plot?”

You figure he can catch up with context clues as you pull your hair up so you can return to favor, already hungrily eyeing the tent in those jeans that you still haven’t been able to rid him of.

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut

[mitsies]

❊ ikea kitchenettes & everything in between - aki hayakawa . . aki's going to break your new oven before you get a chance to use it.

warnings: very suggestive because let's bffr that's what we all want

men are too proud for their own good, you think. and to your misfortune, your fiancé is no exception.

beep. beep. beep.

the sound of buttons being furiously smashed picks up, to the point where you can hear it from beyond the shiny new kitchen island. it's a new apartment, full of shiny new appliances, which clearly are causing the love of your life a fair amount of strife.

from your position slouched onto the pillows on the floor (a substitute for a couch, before yours comes in) you can see silky black hair, a little bit creased by the hair tie that usually holds it in place, and hands carding through dark locks in frustration. you have to bite your lip to hold back a smile.

"everything good back there, aki?"

at your voice, his full face pops out from above the kitchen island. amber kitchen light shines dimly from bulbs yet to be replaced. he looks disgruntled, to say the least. you can't hide your amused expression when he states, "i think the oven is broken."

"but it's brand new?"

he sighs and places his hands on his hips. "they must've given us a defective one."

you're more than skeptical. he's more than certain. with a sigh, you rise from your seat on the make-shift couch and walk to the opposite side of the kitchen island, leaning over it to see what he was doing. a tray of vegetables sits on the middle rack of an unlit oven, and the screen on the side reads blank.

"it's fine. i'll figure something out; finish your reports," he says, watching as you come over to the oven's side and bend to check it out. you turn to him. "no, don't worry. this won't take long."

it's with great amusement that you press the big, obvious, glowing white 'power' button on the side of the oven's interface which illuminates the inside and turns it on. and it's with even greater amusement that you watch aki's face go so, so sour, as if he's just taken a bite of the biggest lemon set to be roasted on the tray.

"yeah," you muse, standing back up, "i think it's broken too."

you can't help the laughter that escapes your throat at his expression. you allow yourself to lean into his side as his eyes are narrowed and fixed onto the fully functional oven. wordlessly, his arm moves to accommodate you with an arm loosely draped around your waist. a natural reflex, at this point.

"i'm sure you'd have figured it out eventually." aki finally looks at you, breath ghosting your forehead.

"mhm. you knew all along. do you enjoy messing with me? watching me struggle?"

"what— hey!"

it's weird, to think about how a little over a year ago, you'd never even considered being here, in this position. if you told past-you that only six seasons in the future, you and your work crush would be a couple, living in a new apartment, with a new oven, and a kitchen so empty but somehow so, so full of love, you'd never believe it. if someone told you that the aki hayakawa would be comfortable enough to hold you so close, to plant a ginger kiss on your forehead like he's doing now, to joke around with you, to smile with all his teeth around you, you would laugh.

but that was then, and this is now. and this— this is real.

his lips are warm, if a little chapped, as they plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. his hold on your waist tightens, just a little, but enough to make you wish your bed was fully assembled. what you do have, though...

you beam at him. "how long will those vegetables take?"

he glances at the oven. "root vegetables'll take maybe 25 minutes. why?"

your smile gets bigger. "that's enough time for me."

"time for what?"

you don't answer, opting to take his hand and pull him to the empty space outside the kitchen that should be a living room. well, empty save for a stack of papers and a set of very big, very soft pillows.

his face goes red. "no. you have paperwork to do. i have dinner to make."

but his grip on your hand tightens. and you know him well enough to be able to tell that he's hiding a tiny little smile.

"it's our apartment. our rules. and i want you to kiss me."

men are too proud for their own good. and even though aki is no exception, you find that his resolve is easily destroyed— only when it comes to you.

flowers chosen: sunflowers (small and tall) & yarrow . . adoration, haughtiness, and everlasting love

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#aki hayakawa x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki x reader #hayakawa aki #csm aki #aki #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #csm fanfic #aki fluff #chainsaw man fluff #chainsaw man fic #reader insert #mitsies 5k

[pearlywritings]

Your bed is enough

synopsis: after experiencing a not so nice day at work, Diluc decides to stay at your place tonight

prompt: 27

requested by: @bobaboob

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: pure fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are engaged)

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

It feels like hours have passed since the moment Diluc put the key from the tavern in his jacket’s pocket and took your inviting hand to follow you home. Though home in your and his case could mean two places - either the winery, where he offered you to move in with him a couple of months ago, which with the recent engagement feels absolutely right, or your apartment, situated in the city itself.

And tonight it’s the latter.

Diluc rarely complained and even more rarely he complained out loud, but the evening was worse than he could ever remember. Nothing functioned right - both Charles and a couple of waitresses had fallen sick the day before (he’s gonna find and strangle that merchant from Inazuma who’d offered them, as it turned out, expired snacks from his land), the number of patrons was surprisingly and almost overwhelmingly high, some barrels came with broken taps and he’ll have to deal with extra work tomorrow both with the casks’s supplier and the workers who missed the defect… Oh, and then one of the drunkards must’ve been in such a stupefied haze that he mistook the red-haired male with someone and intentionally spilled a bottle of wine all over his already messy uniform, blaming him for seducing his wife and taking her away from him. The Ragnvindr nearly exploded back then, and the man was out of the door before he could realize who’d he just offended.

You got it - the evening was horrendous.

And even now, in a bath, in your oh so familiar bathroom, in the comfort of your - now also shared - living space, with you getting ready for bed on the other side of the door, he can’t shake off that exhaustion that enveloped him like a heavy cocoon. Hopefully he’ll manage to scrub the smell of alcohol off of him at least.

When he emerges into the bedroom with a towel on his head and some loose sleeping pants sitting low on his hips, he finds you standing in front of your bed, already dressed for sleep, and staring at the piece of furniture with utmost concentration. There is a line between your brows, your pretty lips are pursed and arms crossed. In his eyes even this looks ethereal - if that’s one of the views he’s going to witness once you become his wife - getting to see you focused and serious while helping the winery owner with his work affairs, - then he wants to marry you as soon as possible. He really can’t wait to add another ring to that beautifully crafted engagement one on your finger.

Forcing himself out of his blissful dreams and deciding to finally ask what brought you to such a state, Diluc makes his presence known with a polite cough. You immediately whip your head in his direction, and the previous signs of your brooding are gone, replaced with a soft smile and a bright glimmer in those eyes he loves so much.

“Oh, you are out already,” uncrossing your arms, you make a step closer and he does the same, until you two are standing in front of each other and your hands reach to the towel. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

“Somewhat,” he answers honestly, lowering his eyelids, letting you wipe the heavy mass of his hair dry. “Do I still smell of alcohol?”

“Hmm…” You move your face even closer, sniffing air close to his chest. “No, I don’t smell any. Oh wait, how about here…” and you shamelessly press your face into his neck, making the man shudder and open his eyes. You caught him off guard and shook him out of his drowsy state.

“My flame?” He feels your hands still in his hair and you softly giggle, tickling the sensitive skin even more.

“What?” Is muffled against his shoulder and Diluc shakes his head. But there is a slip of an adorning smile and he can practically feel some weight of the evening disappear.

“Nothing, my dear. If you haven’t suffocated yet, then there is none.”

You plant a kiss where his neck and shoulder connect and draw your face away, tugging the towel and completely dragging it off of his head. Ah, here it is, the bright grin he loves so much and readily mirrors in response.

“Yeah, there is none. Only an amazing smell of my body wash. Now you smell like me.”

“And I am honored,” he says sincerely, to which you happily hum, disappearing in the bathroom and reappearing only a moment after. “But I can’t help but wonder what got you so deep in thought?”

At first you raise a brow at him, but when he motions to the bed it clicks, and you hum, long and thoughtful.

“Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking that maybe I should get a new bed. You know, enough to fit two people?”

Ah, that’s what it was about. Admittedly, Diluc is a big man - both tall and muscular, and you have only a one-person’s bed, which he alone could take over completely if lying sprawled. He knows he could always take the couch, but in those few times he stayed at your place, you insisted on sleeping together. And those closely tight embraces under the same blanket are ones of the fondest memories the redhead possesses.

“You know, we could redecorate this place a little and use it more frequently when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to go all the way to the winery. And the bed could be the first step.”

“Is your bed cramped when we sleep together?”

He is as surprised as you are when the question hangs in the air - he didn’t expect it to just burst out of his mouth. However, he also doesn’t want to let go of this tight, but so comforting space just yet - admittedly, it gives him some indescribable sense of completeness.

You stare at him silently, as if trying to guess what he’s thinking about and what answer he expects. But nothing is better than the truth itself.

“It is,” crimson eyes widen slightly and are immediately cast down. Not letting him dwell long on whatever he’s already imagined in his head, you step closer, touching his scarred forearm, gently gliding your fingertips over the skin, asking for his attention. And when he gives you just that, Diluc sees a reassuring smile. “In the good way.”

You chuckle softly when he releases a sigh of relief, and reach to cup his cheek, feeling your heart skip a beat when he leans into your open palm.

“But I am worried that you are uncomfortable. I see how much you love to stretch in the morning while in bed at the winery, and there is not enough space in my bed. And I can be in the way of your outstretched arm-”

“You are never in the way,” the words are firm and the dancing flame in the depths of his eyes is proof enough. “You are right by my side. And that’s why it’s perfect.”

“Oh, you…”

With the trilling laughter you let him fall onto his back, landing on the soft mattress, and draw your body right on top of his. Your chemise rides up, bearing your thighs, and rough fingers don’t wait long to dig into plush skin. You stare down at him, with palms firmly planted on his wide chest, feeling the steadily beating heart under the fingertips, relishing in the appreciative look he is giving you. And for all of that and so much more your bed is perfect, because it's enough.

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact fluff

[dulltoned]

Notable Dynamics in Kismet!

These are all in relation to my depiction of Kismet and how I write them, you can see my oneshot collection Familiar and New for some more context.

Ablaze and Trickee

- Ablaze and Trickee get along great. Maybe a little too well, they've both got a willingness to throw a punch that can be a little off-putting, especially to Pop Trolls.

- Their first real interaction was Trickee socking Ablaze right in the face and getting a black eye in return. They had a mutual respect for each other after that.

- Both of them are wildly protective even if they show it differently and after Kismet formed it created a strong bond between the two of them.

- As the two oldest they have a sort of comradery between them. There have been nights where they've stayed up late into the morning talking about BroZone and how much they despise them for what they did to Branch. Trickee doesn't mean it, Ablaze does.

Boom and Hype

- They already knew each other, vaguely, before Kismet. Back when they were Trollings in the Troll Tree their pods were fairly close to each other so they played with each other a lot before the great escape.

- Both of them are fairly emotional and positive and in a band full of repressed idiots and that's created a deeper connection between the two.

- They take great pleasure in ganging up on their bandmates to force them to talk about their feelings, especially Ablaze and Branch because it's an 80-20 chance that it'll work when it comes to those two. When they succeed they're very smug about it.

Trickee and Branch

- Trickee latched onto Branch after the whole Creek scenario, how angry and suspicious Branch was broke Trickee's heart, and Branch subconsciously latched on just as hard.

- Trickee has to sneak out to hangout with Branch but he couldn't care less about how much his mother hates the grey Troll.

- Branch tries really hard not to get attached to Trickee but it's hard when Trickee is always by his side with a fond smile and an angry retort for anyone who so much as looks at him wrong. He missed feeling loved and Trickee reminded him what it feels like to have someone who actually cares about him. It terrifies him.

- Trickee is so angry at BroZone and Pop Village on Branch's behalf, his determination to prove to Branch that he's not defective turned into a real and adamant adoration for the younger Troll that attached them at the hip for years. That desperation died down the longer they knew each other but the fire and drive that glued them together never left.

#{ more than a band } #{ isolationist } #Trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls kismet #trolls trickee #trolls ablaze #trolls boom #trolls hype #trolls branch

[bruh-myguy-what]

Can I request Crosshair with "sorry, that was my first kiss." "i could tell." "...." "i'm kidding!" I don't imagine any of the Batch have ever kissed someone before. 🤭

Jealous Much?

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader Warnings: Massive fluff, Crosshair being a cutie pie and not understanding his own emotions because he's silly, light cursing, nothing other than that really Word Count: 2.2K Summary: After running into a "Reg" in the halls of Kamino, Crosshair hears something he doesn't like and it bothers him. A/N: I really liked this prompt for Cross and I've actually not written anything for him yet, so this was fun! Thanks for request precious anon! I hope it was what you were looking for when you sent in the request!

Requests are currently closed until I finish the ones I have in my inbox!

Don't forget you can also support me on ko-fi! If you like my writing, you can always just give me a little tip to help me continue my work!

_______________________________________________________

"Mesh'la~" A clone trooper called after you with a smile, "Why don't you stop hanging out with those defective boys and come hang out with real men, huh? I know you miss me~" He teased, mirthfully, as he blew you a kiss.

While you found the trooper's antics amusing, evidently none of the other Batchers had. Crosshair hissed a snide "filthy reg" under his breath as he took your arm and positioned himself between you and the other man. Hunter rolled his eyes with an exhausted sigh, Echo shrugging when Tech looked between you and the other clone. "What precisely does he mean when he says 'I know you miss me'?"

You only chuckled and shook your head in reply but flinched a little when you met Crosshair's sharp eyes. "W-What?" Your voice was hushed as it passed through your lips, almost as if you were intimidated by him.

The sniper simply lifted a brow at you, the tattoo over his eye elongating. "You didn't answer Tech." He answered with his coiled voice, toothpick moving over his thin lips. Was he serious? Why did it even bother him? You knew very well he had more contempt for the regs than even the others did, but for him to care so much about why the other trooper mentioned you neglecting him was odd- even for Crosshair.

You shrugged unhurriedly, eyes wide, as if you'd been caught in a speeder's headlights. Glancing toward the others to see if they were as confused as you were, but instead noticed they were also staring at you- waiting for a response. Tech adjusted his goggles on his face while Hunter rested his weight onto one of his hips, arms crossing over his broad chest. Echo blinked at you, and Wrecker tilted his head curiously. "What, seriously?" Was all you could summon as you looked at them all in amazement. "Is it really that big of a deal to you guys?"

"Well," Tech began simply, glancing at Hunter, "yes."

"Seriously?!" You shot back, your voice filled with offense then huffing out loudly at their insanely meddlesome behavior.

"Seriously." Crosshair's whispery tone upset you and the glare you sent him scarcely made him shift. "So, are you going to keep us waiting...or?"

"For kriff sake..." You muttered as a hand ran across your face, bitterness lacing your breath. "Fine! I made out with him once while we were at 79s on shore leave, are you happy now?" Your answer stunned them and they once again shared of look amongst themselves. "Stars. Karking fools, not everything is your business." Breathing out an annoyed sigh, you forced past them and fled into your bunk room.

"It would seem we have upset her," Tech noted after a beat of silence, to which both Hunter and Echo gave him a disapproving glance. "What? I am not incorrect. I am merely stating a factual examination as I have observed the situation."

"Stow it, Tech." Echo growled with a fatigued voice, pushing past him as they all began striding back to their own shared bunk room. Crosshair, however, lingered; eyes still eyeing where you had disappeared further down the hall. Why was it bugging him so badly to know that you had kissed that reg? It felt like gnawing in his chest like a wild nexu was bitting him.

He loathed it.

Why wouldn't it go away?

"Cross?" Hunter's deep voice broke the taller clone out of his thoughts and he looked over at his brother who was standing in the doorway. "You coming?" He questioned, a raise to his brow as he scrutinized him.

Nodding, Crosshair joined the others in the room with a faint 'yeah' and flicked his toothpick aside.

The night went on without much more discourse about your "adventure" with the reg but Crosshair couldn't get the idea out of his head and he was increasingly becoming cranky. Far more cranky than usual. The trooper was practically seething at one point while taking apart his rifle for the fourth time, griping to himself and shoving the pieces together sharply. "Any harder and I think you'll bust it, Cross." Echo comments, stepping over to his bunk to lie down.

"Shut up." The sniper hissed grouchily, driving a piece together especially hard and pinching his finger. He cursed under his breath spitting out his toothpick and placing his finger in his mouth to numb the ache.

Hunter chuckled at the exchange, "Listen, if you're so bothered by her kissing that reg, why don't you go make up for lost time and stop making the air so sticky with your angst." The man lounged in his own bunk, twirling his vibroblade around nimbly.

Crosshair prickled at the remark and turned to look at Hunter with a dangerous glare. "What do you mean by that?" His voice was low and lethal as he spoke, daring his brother to repeat himself.

"I believe you heard him well enough, did you not?" Tech piped up from his workbench, accommodating his goggles to look over at Crosshair. "However, if you were not clear on his meaning, he was proposing that you go and kiss her to make your intentions apparent."

Crosshair's nasty glower slowly landed on his intelligent brother and narrowed even further, his brow now raising in challenge. "What in the galaxy are you idiots going on about?"

"Well, you want to kiss her, don't ya?" Wrecker chimed in with a careful voice, making sure he was following the conversation correctly. Echo suppressed a laugh at Crosshair's dumbfounded expression at his larger brother.

"Of course, he does, Wrecker," Tech replied in Crosshair's stead with a matter-of-fact tone, restarting his work on whatever gadget sat in front of him.

Crosshair growled, stood up from the crate he was sulking on and lurked out of the bunk room into the hallway. Gritting the toothpick between his teeth, he groused to himself again, brown eyes traveling in the direction of your door. Hunter's comments persisted in his mind about going to you and...

But Crosshair barely considered the thought and waved his hand in the air as if he could swat away the notion. There wasn't any way in all the galaxy he was going to show up at your door like some loser with a crush.

The tall sniper rolls his eyes and then blinks in shock as he finds himself in front of a door. Your door. "What the hell?" He murmured to himself in bewilderment, eyes narrowed as if the door could give him an explanation.

He stood there for a surprisingly long time, debating with himself mentally; attempting to figure out what to do. Knocking on the door would require him to follow through with something he could easily make a fool of himself with, or...he could turn away and continue to seeth in jealousy over you being with other men.

Jealousy?

Wait...

That had just struck Crosshair.

It was the first time the idea of him being jealous truly passed his thoughts, though it made sense...the sentiment lingering in his chest corresponding to the word flawlessly.

He was jealous.

Aggravatingly so.

He hated to admit it. The thought made him feel...vulnerable; as if you have power over him in some way. But if he considered it in more depth, you did. Secretly he had been admiring you for months, amazed at how you took his brazen nature in stride and followed thoroughly alongside his banter. It startled him, pleasantly, when you first quipped back at him so effortlessly- his brothers typically being the only ones able to handle their comebacks well enough to leave him in silence. However, within weeks with the group you had smoothly grinned at him and shot back as if his offensive mood hadn't phased you in the least. He'd found himself gravitating toward you after that, interested in why you were able to tolerate him so well, wondering if he could push you further or cross a line that would make you furious; to which he uncovered nothing. The only thing he'd encountered was your gentle nature, sparked by sass and a smirk that made his heart race.

A whooshing sound startled him back to the present and he was met with your face. "What the hell are you doing out here, Crosshair?" You asked with a bothered expression.

Apparently the decision had been made for him. He was fully aware that if he turned around now he'd never live it down and would seem like a coward. He'd also have to deal with hearing about you kissing other regs which irked him even more than the idea of his brothers teasing him for being a wuss. So he rested his weight on one of his hips and smirked at you, flicking his toothpick past you. "You seemed annoyed back there, sunshine." He chose to go the route of antagonizing you, his more preferred form of communication; especially when breaching a matter he felt out of his depths to manage.

You rolled your eyes, infuriated. "That's because you and your idiot brothers were being assholes. It's none of your business what I do in my free time."

"What if I want it to be?" Crosshair heard himself speak before he could stop it but he chose to remain steadfast in the face of your changing expression.

Your raised brow and slow hand gestures implored him to continue as if what he said was unfinished. "And so what if you did want that? I'm not your-" Then it hit you and a blush rushed over your cheeks.

The clone stood there and he could feel his hands trembling, uncharacteristically. He wasn't predisposed to anxiety, none of his brothers were, but now he felt as if his heart were going to leap out his chest and through his armor directly into your hands. Silence continued to linger between the two of you with only the narrowing of Crosshair's eyes as a reaction.

"You..."

"Don't flatter yourself too much." Crosshair interrupts with a roll of his eyes, trying to fight off the embarrassment that started to creep up his own cheeks.

A smile began to form on your face, much to his dismay. "Crosshair...are you saying you're...jealous of that reg?" You were testing your luck and you knew it, he was never this clumsy in conversation with you but you couldn't help yourself when you caught the reddening of his cheeks.

"Stow it or I'll walk away right now." He hissed hatefully and crossed his arms over his chest, making no effort to move. While Crosshair despised the feeling of floundering he felt in the moment, he also found it...exciting. He was caught desperate and nervous in the sight of someone he cared for and your smile was stunning.

You chuckled at his expression, his face turning away from you to look down the hall where he'd come from. "You are jealous!" The triumph on your face was simultaneously aggravating and charming to the sniper, his trained eye taking in every detail even from his side glance. "I can't believe you're jealous because I kissed some reg, what are you a school girl? Little Crosshair feeling jealous because I kissed someone el-"

Your taunting was cut off quickly by the taller man as he covered your mouth with his; your eyes blowing wide. It was inelegant, awkward, and hurried but filled with an unexpected sweetness. You could feel his hands shaking as they held your face gently, his eyes squeezed shut. Scarcely given the chance to kiss him back before he pulled away, you grumbled in disappointment.

Crosshair stepped back out of your personal space with a dark blush across his cheeks, avoiding your eyes as he cleared his throat. He'd never felt so overwhelmed by emotion in all of his life and for him to act upon them in such a physical way left him tense.

"Crosshair..." You whispered his name with a grin, blinking a few times to make sure you were still in reality, not one of your many dreams. He peeked up at you momentarily and you could tell he would rather be shot by a blaster bolt than acknowledge that he'd just kissed you but you disregarded the look and stepped back up to him. "I'm gonna have to teach you how to kiss properly if you're going to want to keep doing that, ya know?" You teased softly.

Crosshair still denied any eye contact with you, missing the sweet expression on your face. "Th-That was my first kiss, so I don't know what you expected." His voice came out hastily by the end and had a bite to it, but you only chuckled at his shy behavior and kissed his cheek.

"I could tell." You joked lightly, a wise grin on your face.

Crosshair whipped his head to look at you, his glare fierce at your comment; which is what you had anticipated. You smiled up at him warmly and his heart leapt at the sight. Turning away from your captivating expression quickly, you hug him, resting your head against his chest plate.

"Wait! I'm sorry! I was just kidding!" You laughed at his pouting, knowing that you'd never let him live down the shade of red his face had gotten; even if just between the two of you.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair #crosshair fanfiction #crosshair x fem!reader #crosshair x reader #x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch crosshair #star wars crosshair #ct 9904 #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair fanfic #fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars clone wars #tumblr requests #anon requests #prompt requests #kofi #writers on kofi #writers on tumblr

[lordsukunas]

tldr: suguru as a child/early teenager and his journey as a sorcerer after he meets you, his new neighbor.

cw: mentions of vomiting, not in-depth. not edited, not beta-read, rushed, and possibly ooc suguru. gender neutral and sorcerer!reader.

a/n: sigh... i’m so tired. probably when i wake up i’ll actually edit it, but i just needed to get something out, so maybe consider this a lil teaser...? i might make a second part expanding on how he ends up going to jjt n then whenever he defects, but im absolutely exhausted rn. exams have been kicking my ass </3 + im going to a festival so this might not be edited for a lil while longer. sorry yall!

a part of me thinks suguru would live in some small, unknown little town. the people are closed-minded, content with the life they’ve built for themselves, and they don’t want it to change. if you’re born there, it’s hard to get out, especially with such few opportunities. it’s a town meant to keep aspiring little doves caged within its walls.

so imagine some six, maybe seven year-old boy going around saying he sees monsters sometimes. of course, the first conclusion any adult would reach is that the poor thing is having nightmares. he’ll grow out of it — all of them do.

but suguru doesn’t.

he’s afraid to sleep at night, and despite his parents’ pleas for him to sleep in their bed, he says that he can’t. “what if you get hurt too?”

they end up having to sneak melatonin in his dinner to get him to sleep at night.

when he turns eleven, he gets a grasp on his technique. he has to eat the monsters, consume them so that they don’t go out and hurt anyone else. that’s easy enough, right?

for the first few weeks, he vomits. they taste disgusting, like dried, crusty rags used to clean up puke and shit. but he has to do it, he has to! otherwise, who’s going to keep his innocent parents safe?

so he keeps going. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke.

exorcise and consume.

then, at age twelve, you come along.

you’re like the sun peeking through the dark clouds after days full of rain and thunder. a breath of fresh air, a sugary treat to balance out the saltiness of this shitty town.

you move into the once abandoned house right beside his, a radiant smile on your face and eyes twinkling with determination.

beautiful, perfect, normal.

the two of you click almost instantly, although suguru’s a little reluctant at first — what if you think he’s weird? his parents and teachers say he’s a bit troubled, nosy neighbors joke that he’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and bored grandmas claim he’s been touched by the devil. despite their rumors, despite suguru’s reputation, despite the fact you two are polar opposites, you don’t avoid him. in fact, it’s like those things just entice you even more.

“suguru.”

the fear in your voice catches him off-guard, and he stops walking. your hand grips the hem of his jacket, and your finger slowly raises to point towards the corner.

“what is that?”

it’s a crude thing. skin a dingy shade of purple, stubby limbs twisted and contorted into impossible angles, and jagged yellow teeth that poke past its thin, cracked lips.

that’s when he realizes it: you can see them too.

he’s not alone. finally, fucking finally, suguru geto is not alone.

by thirteen, you and suguru are attached at the hip. there’s not a day where the two of you don’t see each other, even when you get grounded for accidentally breaking a bathroom stall trying to exorcise a curse.

they’re so ungrateful.

he’s tainted your image. you were once normal, the cute neighbor nextdoor, but now you’re best friends with suguru, the pretty boy with the strange bangs and broken mind.

you don’t care though, and he loves that you never have.

nothing can separate you. you go to school together, take the same classes (thanks to suguru modifying his schedule), walk home together, exorcise curses together.

you’re all he needs, and he’s all you need. you’re the only ones who understand each other on a fundamental level, who know each other inside and out, down to the very last atom in your bodies.

with you, he’s sure that he can snap the chain and leave this place, to soar so high in the sky that there’s nothing and no one left but you and him.

you hand suguru his slushie, and he takes a long sip, letting the sugar-filled drink wash away the lingering taste of today’s curse.

“sometimes, i think we’re kinda like batman and superman.”

suguru can’t help but scoff. “us? you think we’re superheroes?” how unsurprisingly childish of you.

you nod, snapping your kit-kat bar in half and taking a bite out of it. “yeah, dude! we fight alien bad guys with our superpowers. pretty cool, right?”

he leans back, legs spread and an arm resting on the back of the bench. “sure, but they always get rewarded for saving the day. what do we get?” he doesn’t wait for your answer. “nothing.”

a small frown flits across your typically cheerful features, and suguru wishes he could shove his words back into his mouth and down his throat.

“mm... i think we get stuff. we get to see our parents safe, and even if no one else here really likes us, they’re safe thanks to us, too.” the toe of your shoe traces shapes into the pavement. “we’re the only ones that can do this, suguru. it’s our duty.”

right. duty.

suguru hums, but you can’t tell whether it’s in agreement or not. you decide that it doesn’t matter, that he’s just thinking like always.

“wish i was rich, though," you joke and pop the rest of your little kit-kat stick into your mouth.

after a moment, he shakes his head and takes a sip of his bright purple drink. “me too.”

#jjk #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #🪵 – writing

[onlyyvette]

Megatron's Tramp-stamp thoughts?

Megs with a tramp-stamp...🤤

In my honest opinion, Megatron is totally a MILF, so him having a tramp-stamp makes so much sense. Just imagine him being this terrifying, all-powerful warlord, hell-bent on getting his way, crushing everyone who dares to oppose him with a little help from his fusion cannon...

Now imagine that same Megatron, with a new frame update, making him stronger than he previously was, much sturdier... and much more appealing with a new decepticon tramp-stamp.

As he makes his grand entrance into the main deck of the Nemesis after his new frame change, Megs has a smirk on his face; he knows that every con in the room can feel a new air about him, can feel a newfound power thrumming through his powerlines. Little does he know, most of the decepticons are gawking, more focused on at the tramp-stamp decorating their leader's backside.

Everytime he moves, his wide hips make that damn tramp-stamp move back and forth, a near mesmerizing thing. It makes it much easier for mechs to pay attention to his repeated, tiresome speeches on how they'll take down the autobots. Well, more like they're laser-focused on how the tattoo moves so fluidly along with his back and forth pacing and how much longer they can stare without getting their helm blown off.

Megatron doesn't get the big deal about it anyway. It was just a little additive that he thought was nice, but he knew how easily things like this could get mechs riled up, especially how inconceivable it seemed on mechs like him. He uses it to his advantage too, knowing that having soldiers that were incredibly down bad for him would strengthen their loyalty and in turn, ensure that less defect to those disgusting autobots. Much more effective than putting them on The List. Though if it was so easy to make the decepticons stay loyal to him, maybe he could entice powerful autobots to abandon their cause...

Don't mind the fact that I'm posting again a month later😋

#vetty rambles. ✿ #vetty's thirsts. ✿ #vetty's anons. ✿ #transformers #valveplug #megatron #megatron x reader #top reader #dom reader

[makethatelevenrings]

(S)he Walks in Beauty // J. Todd x AFAB!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, body insecurity, cursing

Summary: The Gotham gossip rags decided to make you their target for the night. Jason has some things to say about that.

“I hate these things,” you grumbled as you tugged on the fabric of your outfit so it settled better over your hips. A soft grunt from beside you was the only response from your boyfriend, but his hand settled on your waist. You savored the warm, steady presence behind you and leaned into Jason as the two of you studied the crowd that was starting to enter the lavish ballroom. Bruce and Tim were off schmoozing it up with the folks around you, but you were hanging on the outskirts.

Dick was in the Batsuit for the night with Steph, Damian, and Cass patrolling with him. The family rotated through who attended galas to ensure that the city wasn’t left defenseless and their covers were still established. Jason was rarely put in the limelight at these events because there were always hundreds of questions about the “resurrected Wayne” and where he was all those years. Bruce and Alfred had concocted some story about amnesia and a Swiss medical facility, but journalists were always eager to discover more about the elusive Wayne.

Jason had one stipulation for attending these events. If he goes, you go. Three reasons. One, he was not going to face these vermin bastards by himself. Two, he didn’t like leaving you home alone in the East End all night when he was all the way in Bristol. Three, and he would never admit this out loud, there was some predatory feeling in him that was satisfied by the sight of you on his arm.

“Bruce promised that if we make it to midnight, he’ll get Steph to bring McFlurries back and will distract Alfred long enough so we can eat them.” A tight smile graced his face but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. His lips brushed against the crown of your head and you leaned back against his chest.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he grunted. The vultures were streaming further into the room and you were starting to feel a lot like roadkill that they were circling, intent on their next meal.

You made it an hour.

It was a risky outfit and you knew it when you put it on for tonight. The fabric clung tight in all the right places and the color was different than the normal muted colors you wore. Red. To anyone on the outside it looked like you were just wearing a daring flash of color. To Jason, it was a reminder.

The Red Hood had staked his claim long ago and his color draped your skin.

But it was flashy. Eye-catching. Able to be talked about. And boy, did they talk. It was as if every Gotham gossip column turned their sharp eyes on you and decided that you would be the gossip pinata for the night. Comments about your weight, hair, clothes, skin. Even comments about your nails. You took all the backhanded comments with a small smile and a polite jab in return, but every barb just dug deeper into your chest.

“I see you decided on the walking red flag,” one columnist cooed. “How do the Waynes feel knowing the prodigal son is dating Gotham’s new fashion faux pas?”

“I don’t know, Kelly, you tell me. But please be sure to spell faux pas correctly. I know grammar, spelling, and punctuation isn’t the strong suit of your journalism career.”

“It must be so hard being last year’s model.”

“Well, I hear the newer versions always have bugs and defects.”

“You’re a charity case, Y/N,” Kelly snapped.

“And your press credentials are stripped.” A cool voice came from behind you. She blanched at the sight of the person standing at your side and Tim offered her that shark-like grin that graced Red Robin’s face when he cracked a case. He reached over and neatly snapped the cord hanging from her neck off, holding up her press badge like it was a trophy.

“I would leave before security comes by. I would also leave the city. Maybe the state. I hear Oregon is lovely this time of year.” Your boyfriend’s little brother dropped her press badge into the trash can and looped his arm around yours. Tim steered you away from the press gaggle and towards the dark figure pressed against the wall. Jason was in the middle of lifting a glass to his lips but he paused when he saw the two of you approach.

“What’s wrong?” Jason stood up straighter, his eyes darkening as his sharp gaze darted around the room to find whatever threat was present.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” you muttered. “I was handling it.”

“Get out of here,” Tim ordered. “Before Brucie catches wind of what the press has been saying and he decides to make Jenna Greene cry again.”

“What has the press been saying?” Jason’s voice was tight and you pointedly looked away from his calculating stare. His rough, calloused hand enclosed around your wrist and he tugged you into his side.

“Go. I’ll distract them and come up with an excuse,” Tim urged.

“Thank you, Timmy,” Jason said. Tim squeezed the hand that rested on your shoulder and you nodded in thanks. Being away from the crowd, the stares, the comments…you could feel the shame creep up into your chest. So when Jason started to lead you out of the ballroom and towards the panel that would lead to the main portion of the manor. You slipped in before him and he shut the door after you, his hand settling on the small of your back.

Jason didn’t say anything as the two of you walked to the stairs, up to the second floor, passing the room that he refused to look into, and to the guest room that you two occupied anytime you stayed overnight at the manor. You quietly entered and crossed to the bathroom so you could start to wipe off your makeup. The bedroom was silent but you could guess what he was doing.

“Damnit,” Jason growled. He appeared in the doorway, his jacket off, cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and tie loose. He gripped his phone in one hand and ran the other through his hair. Messy curls stuck up at all angles as he thudded his forehead against the wall.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” you said weakly. “I’ve heard it all before.”

His head raised so he could make eye contact with you in the mirror. You sighed and set down the makeup wipe in your hand. Jason leaned his head back against the wall and watched you.

“It’s just…that’s how the way things are, Jase. You learn to live with it.”

“Please tell me you don’t believe in the shit they’re saying,” he croaked. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t. That you were able to shut out the voices and let the words bounce off of some impenetrable armor you had built up, but you could never lie to Jason. From the moment you saw him, you knew that he would ruin you in the best way possible and seeing the look in his eye just now was enough to ensure that you couldn’t lie.

“I get it, y’know? It’s a bright color and it highlights some areas of my body that maybe don't need to be shown.”

A pained noise escaped him and he stepped forward, his chest pressing against your back as his hands wrapped around the edge of the sink. Jason pressed his face against the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

“That’s the biggest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard,” he whispered. His right hand came up to slide across your waist and he pressed you impossibly closer. You gasped and let your eyes fall shut as his lips ghosted over the skin of your jaw, neck, and shoulder.

“Jason,” you breathed. Slowly, methodically, as if you were a delicate package, his hands peeled away your clothes, leaving you in the lace underwear you had selected earlier that evening. You eyed your body with disdain as the words said tonight crept into your mind. Jason caught onto your train of thought quickly and he silenced the voices with a quick nip at your shoulder.

“I should go back down there and rip them apart,” he seethed. “Identities be damned.”

A shaky exhale escaped your lungs. The contrast of the pure rage in his voice with the delicate way his hands stroked down your heated flesh made your head spin. He looked directly at the mirror, his lust blown eyes meeting yours. You could feel him press against your ass and he grinned, sharp and dangerous.

“You can feel what you do to me,” he murmured. “Baby, seeing you in my color drove me up the fucking wall. God, your ass is perfect.”

He palmed your ass with one hand and lowered his head to suck a hickey onto your jaw. You mewled and thrust back against him, forcing a groan from his lungs. He rolled his hips and then grabbed your waist, spinning you around so you were facing him. Jason reached behind you and unlatched your bra, letting it fall to the ground to join your other clothes.

He kneeled down and settled his hands on your hips, gazing up at you in a mixture of adoration and lust. You slid one hand in his hair and brushed your thumb along his temple.

“She walks in beauty, like the night,” he murmured. “Of cloudless climes and starry skies.”

His teeth enclosed around the flesh above your breast and you gasped, hands coming up to cradle the back of his head as he added another mark to your skin. Like a painter with a canvas, Jason scattered hickeys across your chest and down your stomach.

“And all that’s best of dark and bright.” He mouthed the words along your stomach. “Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

He bit down on the edge of your underwear and dragged it down the expanse of your legs until it pooled at your feet. Jason nudged at your knee and you leaned back against the sink and spread your legs, exposing your glistening cunt to him. He groaned and pressed his cheek against your inner thing, his hot breath washing over your pussy.

“Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies,” he whispered the last lines of the stanza and then his lips enclosed around your clit.

Jason Todd ate pussy like he was a dying man and this was his last meal. He was always a generous lover, but today felt like he was on a mission. All thoughts other than “oh god” and “fuck” fled your mind as he licked, sucked, and stroked your cunt. Your hips lifted up off the counter on their own accord and he followed without hesitation. Heavy gasps and pants escaped you as he buried a second finger in your slit and spread you apart. You could feel him moving inside of you. Every callous, ridge, and scrape of his well-manicured nails set your nerves on fire.

And then he pulled away, leaving you a soaking, whining mess.

Your juices stained his chin as he grinned up at you. Jason spun you back around so you were facing the mirror once more before he wrestled with his belt and shoved his pants down to his ankles. He grabbed his hard cock and pumped it twice before he bent you over and slid into you in one swift move.

A moan escaped you and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up into the mirror and watch as he pulled his cock out and then slammed back into you. The sight of your cunt swallowing his dick was so fucking hot that you nearly came right there.

“See how well you take me?” Jason panted. “It’s like you were made for me. Made to take my cock.”

He punctuated his words with another roll of his hips and your jaw dropped open in a silent cry. Jason smirked, his broad chest heaving with every thrust.

“Seeing you come apart on my cock? Best fucking sight in the world. I should take you downstairs and show them all just how perfect you are. These tits. That ass. So fucking perfect.”

You clenched around him, your walls spasming as he continued his repeated thrusts. A keening whine left your throat, mingling with the sound of his balls slapping against your skin. Your body burned with the insatiable heat of your orgasm and sparks of pain and pleasure lit through you as his cockhead dragged against your inner walls again.

“Jase,” you gasped. “Jase, baby, it’s too much.”

“You can take it,” he grunted. He slid his hand down to rest against your swollen clit and he started to rub the bundle of nerves with an easy going vigor. Your head fell forward onto your forearms but his other hand wrapped around your neck and yanked your head up to watch the mirror once more.

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not until I’ve fucked all those silly thoughts out of your head. Because you’re nothing less than perfect, baby, and I won’t let those fucking vultures down there make you think any other way.”

You woke up the next day with sore hips, an aching cunt, and a map of hickeys decorating your body. Jason was fast asleep next to you with the sheets pooling at his waist, his scarred torso exposed. Sometime between the third and fourth orgasm, he had moved you to the bed and fucked you so slowly and carefully, it had felt as though he was pulling you apart every time he pulled out and putting you back together with every thrust in.

Rolling onto your back, you traced a finger down the map of bruises that littered your torso. Your neck, breasts, stomach, and hips were all covered with Jason’s marks. You were examining a particularly dark bruise on the inside of your thigh when his strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Hi,” you whispered in greeting. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your nose, cheek, and finally lips.

“Hi,” he murmured. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

“I do now,” you teased. A soft smile graced his face, the smile only you got to see, and he brushed his fingers lightly across your jaw.

“And smart and funny,” he added. “And unbelievably kind.” It was a secret between the two of you that the Red Hood sets aside some of his bounty from his crime syndicate that was used to help the kids of the Bowery. You had met the infamous Red Hood when you were buying food for a street kid. When a shootout forced you to take cover in the same alley as him, Jason made sure to keep you covered. An uneasy truce had bloomed between the two of you: the crime lord and the caretaker.

He paid for food, clothes, and anything you needed to help keep the kids safe. He made sure your shitty apartment had some security. He showed up on your fire escape with a bullet in his gut and landed in your bed. He wormed his way into your pants and then into your heart.

And by god, he was a sap.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You dropped a kiss to his shoulder, right above a scar that you knew to be from a knife, and pressed your face against his neck. Jason stroked a lazy hand up and down your back.

“How would you feel if all of Gotham’s gossip rag sites mysteriously went down last night and no one’s been able to fix the server?”

“Remind me to give Tim a hug later.”

“You’ll have to give Bruce and Babs one too. It was a joint operation.”

You snickered and traced random patterns against his chest. “What time is breakfast?”

“We have about an hour. Alfie’s making your favorite because he loves you more than all of us.”

You sat up and swung your leg over his waist so you were straddling him. “Good. That gives us the perfect amount of time to discuss your particular brand of self hatred.”

tag list:  @annalayton19​ @tiannamortis​ @khaetiin​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood imagine #dc imagine #dc smut

[klbwriting]

Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 8

Fandom: Aquman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Summary: Arthur and Orm discuss the attacks, YN and Orm get closer

Warnings: this is the smut, just some good ol' sexy time

Orm let YN sleep through his conversation with Arthur. The council taking over the investigation of the attacks was concerning. Orm had asked Arthur for every detail about the meeting and what he knew about the current councilmembers. When he heard Orlan was now in charge of the investigation he frowned.

“Watch him,” Orm said. “See if you can investigate him. He is technically just behind Junior for the throne at this point and when I was king, he was always trying to weasel his way closer to me. At least until he invited me to dinner and tried to poison me.” Orm let that hang out there. Orlan knew poison, and those poisoned shots from the pier were unique.

“I don’t know if he could actually be behind all this though. His family has fallen in rank since you were king. They were found to be your biggest supporters and once everything you had done was revealed the lower kingdom kind of split. Half of them think you’re the best king ever, taking the fight to the surface, and the other half think you were a tyrant who attacks his own people for his agenda. The nobles however, they just follow power and once I had it and had to put you into prison Orlan and the few other nobles still sticking by you kind of lost support,” Arthur said. “Even his son, Leo, defected from him and went missing.”

“He went missing? Are you sure? Or did Orlan send him away so he could gather supporters from other kingdoms so he could stage attacks on the surface and blame me?” he said. Arthur considered this.

“I’ll look into it, see if anyone knows where Leo is,” Arthur said. He waved by and headed out. Orm went back into the bedroom and slid in bed next to YN. She snuggled back into him and he took stock of how she felt against him. His hand drifted up and down her side slowly, feeling how soft she was. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck, feeling her move next to him. She wiggled her rear against his pelvis, and he groaned, feeling aroused.

“Is that a trident in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” he heard her say and he laughed, moving to nip at her earlobe, drawing a shocked gasp. She pressed back to him more and he slowly moved his hand under the long night shirt, moving it up until he felt her breast. His fingers flicked over her nipples, drawing them to peak. She moaned softly and he lowered his hand to slide into her underwear, feeling how wet she already was.

“YN, I want you,” he whispered. She panted a little as she moved so she could reach back, hand sliding into his pants and gripping his member, pumping slowly. He hissed at the contact, hips moving to her hand. She let go and he frowned, but then smiled when rolled to lay on her back, looking at him. His hand found better purchase on her core, sliding a finger inside her. “Do you want me?”

“Yes Orm, I want you,” she whispered. Orm didn’t need told again. He moved between her legs, pulling the nightshirt over her head before leaning in and kissing her deeply. She moaned into his mouth, her own hands moving to push his clothes off until he was completely naked for her. She pushed him off her a little. “Wait,” she said. He froze. Had he done something wrong. He sat back on his knees, watching her. She sat up a little, shimmying herself out of her underwear and then she just looked at him.

“What’s happening?” he asked. She smiled at him, and he melted some, kissing her again. She pushed him back again.

“Stop for one second, I want to look at you,” she said, fingers moving over his chest, moving down to his stomach. She traced his scars, the lines of his muscles, connected the dots on a couple freckles he had, just admired him. As she memorized his form, he did the same to her. He let his fingers drift over her torso, feeling every curve, and finally he met her eyes again. The frenzy of earlier had changed and now it was slow. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time she didn’t stop him. He started the kiss soft before it deepened. He shifted so that she was under him, legs wrapped around him. He pushed gently, tip just brushing over her core. She moaned, moving her hand to guide him inside her. He didn’t push in fully at first, moving just a little bit, teasing her. She moaned out his name and he loved the sound, so he teased her again with a smirk. She let out a breathy laugh, smacking his ass to get him moving again. He pushed all the way in, hips meeting hers, and she cried out, gripping his shoulders. He kissed her face and neck as he started a rhythm, hips moving out and back, making sure to push deep into her. She grabbed behind her knees, pulling her legs up more so he could push further, and she whimpered when he hit a sensitive spot inside her. He focused on hitting that spot over and over.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered. She nodded, barely able to form words. “You feel amazing, please tell me you’re close.” She nodded again, his name spilling from her mouth again as she got louder. He loved the sounds she was making and desperately wanted to hear her finish. He focused, pushing to make her fly. He was rewarded with a cry of his name as she seized, gripping him tight with her entire core. He thrust a few more times before he too climaxed. He panted as he moved to the side, making sure he didn’t accidentally tangle their limbs together. She took a few deep breaths.

“I need a shower,” she said. Orm laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that, I can already feel my muscles getting sore.” She stood and he smirked, a little proud, as she walked a little crooked. She glanced back at him. “You coming?” He hopped up and followed her into the bathroom.

After a shower and another round of amazing sex they sat in the living room, discussing the attacks.

“I hate everything about this, I mean, I like that you’re here but why does someone want to frame you?” YN asked. Orm sighed.

“I did things that hurt others, not just surface dwellers, but other Atlanteans. So did my father,” he said. “I did try to get a good king but at some point, the ends justified the means, and sometimes those means involved sending the lower city into poverty to fund advanced weapons, sometimes it was arranging for my own forces to be attacked.” He shrugged. “If I were them, I’d want my head on a platter too. I shouldn’t be on the surface, almost free, eating cookies every day and hopefully having daily sex with the most gorgeous person on the land or in the sea.” He smirked at YN, and she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“Aren’t you a flatterer,” she said. “I just want to forget about all this crap for a while.” Orm thought about what he would do if he wanted to forget the world and just be. He stood.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

#orm marius #king orm #ormmarius #orm marius x reader #king orm x reader #kingorm #ormmariusxreader #kingormxreader #ormseries5

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: Was it over when she laid down on your couch? Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Spicy content ahead but no smut

Here's the masterlist containing the other drabbles in the series!

I didn't write the full smut scene because I was worried it would be less of a drabble and more of a full chapter. If y'all want the full smut scene let me know!

You aren't how Aemond remembers you at all when he runs into you after your arrival. He's in the courtyard, practicing his swordsmanship with Ser Criston and who should walk up but your bastard brothers. They're accompanied by their father, you trailing behind the three men listlessly... bored even. You're eyes flicker about, taking in the sights of the castle you'd hoped to never see again. There's no joy in your gaze. Not anymore. Aemond isn't sure if he should be worried.

When you finally spare a glance at him he's struck by just how different you look. No longer a gangly, awkward princess, you stand in front of him with the body of a woman. All soft curves and delicate Valeryian features. His eyes linger on your hips and tits, and he decides those might be your best features if it weren't for the gentle slope of your lips as you say his name.

Aemond drops his sword immediately, the taunts of his nephews forgotten the second he hears your voice. He lifts your hand to his mouth as he bows, grazing his lips over your knuckles.

"Princess," Aemond says in greeting.

You pull your hand back, fisting it in the silk of your red dress. "Aemond. Have you seen your brother lately? I've been searching for him."

Why? he wants to demand. Why do you want that drunkard when I'm right here? He's probably off picking up some disease on the Street of Silk as we speak.

Instead, he says, "I'm afraid not, Princess."

"Hmm, pity." You look him up and down. "I'll be off then. Lovely to see you, Uncle. Boys," you give Jace and Luke a pointed glare. "Be good."

Aemond wants to stop you, wants to make you turn around and stay by his side, but he can't find the words. Instead, he takes his frustration out on your brothers by way of sparring before taking his own leave and hunting down the serving girl who has been your stand in for months now.

You, on the other hand, search the Red Keep for Aegon. You've already seen and spent time with Helaena, fawning over her and her children even if the reunion was a bit stiff and awkward. You like Helaena, love her even. She's by far the sweetest person you've ever met. How she's lasted in a marriage to Aegon, you'll never know.

He wrote you letters while you were at Dragonstone. As did Aemond. You answered Aegon more often, though. Maybe it was out of some strange, misplaced sense of loyalty that you did so. Aegon was supposed to be your husband after all. Even with his many, many, many... personality defects... you still feel closest to him after all these years.

"Oh, excuse me!" You stop a young serving girl who is in the middle of leaving what you remember to be Aemond's chambers. She's a pretty blonde with a kind smile. "Have you seen Prince Aegon?"

She shakes her head. "No, your highness, I'm sorry. I... I thought I saw the Queen going in his chambers earlier."

You nod. "Thank you..."

"Emma, your highness." She curtsies and looks to the ground.

"Emma. Thank you." You walk further down the hall, counting doors until you come to what you know to be Aegon's chambers.

The décor around the Red Keep has changed immensely since you've been gone. Many of the more obscene tapestries that imprinted themselves in your young mind are gone, replaced with religious imagery of the Seven. You can only imagine the fit Daemon is throwing over the change. Honestly, you don't really feel one way or another about it as long as it was your grandfather's decision, but a large part of you knows it was likely Alicent's doing.

Speaking of, the Queen exits Aegon's chambers right as you're about to announce yourself. She gives you no more than a tight lipped smile, exhaustion and disappointment dimming her eyes.

You cautiously make your way inside. "What was that about?"

Aegon sits on his bed with his head in his hands, a simple white sheet covering his lap. He perks up when he hears your voice and you can't help but return his boyish grin. "Nothing. Something about some serving girl I don't even remember."

"I don't believe you."

"Good. You shouldn't. I'm a bad, bad man."

You pour yourself some wine from the pitcher on his bedside table. "Self deprecation doesn't suit you."

"Who said it was self deprecation? I hurt everyone around me." Aegon sighs and leans back in bed, patting the empty spot beside him.

You know better than to get in Aegon's bed, but he just looks so pathetic. And maybe that's why you favor him so much. You have a soft spot for sad, broken, pathetic things. Aegon knows this. Just as you know he plays on your feelings. What you can't figure out is why you allow it. If anyone else were to treat you the way Aegon does you would feed them to Vermithor... and yet your uncle is allowed to do as he pleases with your heart.

"Remember the game we would play when we were betrothed?" Aegon bunches your skirt in his fist, dragging it up your thigh slowly. The silk tickles against your bare skin.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes."

"Care to play again, niece?"

Aegon is allowed to do as he pleases with your heart just as he is allowed to do as he pleases with your body.

"Yes." The word comes out in an almost whimper and Aegon's smile turns predatory.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, my prince."

Aegon pushes the blanket from his lap and pulls you down on top of him. There's the sound of your dress ripping and Aegon's moan of pleasure.

"Good girl," he whispers in your ear. "You've always been my good girl."

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

[simplydannie]

Rageouns Head-Canon!

Story Arc || Velvet and Veneer Arc ||

Story: Back to the Underground

Not far off from canon, Rageouns were meant to be doll-like beings that trend with what’s hip, what’s in, they tend to blend in, change appearances, tastes, personalities, all to fit in with their society. This is why many Rageouns look similar.

They strive for PERFECTION. This why they surround themselves with precious jewels, why everything has to shine and glimmer. Perfection is a culture trait taught to them at a very young age.

Somewhat like Trolls, Rageouns are born colorful and vibrant, just like their life around them. They really judge based on appearances. When choosing someone to start a family with, they tend to choose a mate by appearance. But what happens if you’re not born perfect? If you’re not born vibrant to fit into the high class society?

As declared by the higher ups in their monarchy, Rageouns born “defective” are sent to live in the under city. Therefore, the population of the under city grew.

The Rageouns of down below look somewhat different than those up above. These Rageouns were born paler in both skin and hair color, many have heterochromia, albinism, and vitiligo, some features appear a little less doll like (though some retain their doll-like appearance like Velvet and Veneer), missing limbs in some cases is known. These are the “defects” the monarchs deem undesirable or beautiful.

Striving to fit in up top, these Rageouns make augmentations to themselves (cybernetic augmentations: eyes, ears, nose, sometimes hands and legs. A popular augmentation in Under Rageous is the sharpening of teeth.

The absorption of Troll essence is thought to help them in their augmentation and help them in the rode to perfection to make it up top.

SIDE-NOTE: This story arc or head- canon is to meant to bring awareness to today’s society, where people born looking different tend to be casted out by society. Let us NOT be those people. Let us embrace our differences and appreciate how different we are instead of letting it divide us❤️

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls 3 #trolls veneer #velvet trolls #veneer #fandom #velvet #velvet and veneer trolls #trolls fandom #trolls au #au #alternate universe #trolls 3 veneer #trolls 3 velvet #trolls 3 band together #trolls #veneer trolls #trolls velvet #trolls headcanons #under rageous

[twistedwonderlandshizzz]

Pet names with Jack Howl

Masterlist: https://twistedwonderlandshizzz.tumblr.com/Masterlist

Buy me a Ko-Fi!: https://ko-fi.com/klesiastumblr

What you call him~~~~

- Big Boy??? Sheesh

- Man´s tail will wag around excitedly, his eyes are wide and his face is red~

- But what if this boy needs some praise? Well- he IS a wolf? Please put the pet in pet names

- Call him your good boy!

- Did he do a good job at an exam? What a good boy-

- Did he have a hard day at school? Give your good boy a treat!

- Wouldn´t surprise me if he likes to get called your good boy in... certain other scenarios as well?

- Imo he´d probably like those sweet pet names like sweetheart! It makes his heart pound like crazy

- He´d act a little more indifferent towards you calling him sweet pet names in public. While he loves the feeling of others knowing you´re his and he´s yours

- he´s most likely not huge on pda (as in kissing, waist touching, etc) but he will probably be sticking to your hip with a loving smile and soft eyes next to you, his tail wagging around in the back

- Talk about sweet pet names; have you already dropped the L-bomb? Call him Love!

- Again- red face, that dumb love-struck smile and the wagging tail

- And if you´re feeling playful he´ll defectively get a good laugh out of tough guy (cause when he gets serious dude) or even hotshot.

What does he call you?~~~~~

- Just like how he loves to get called those sweet pet names, he too loves calling you them!

- Again, sweetheart from his side too (also can you imagine sweety??)

- He loves you and he wants to show you!

- Expect to hear darling and honey as well (Will also call you that in public)

- Honestly, I´m kinda stuck on Sunshine cause I can just imagine that big smile on Jack´s face while calling you that, but at the same time would he???

- Also guys---- Same scenario but with angel

- Please it´s so cute guys, he´s so precious and he loves you so much (and loves your approval!)

- I feel like he´s not gonna get too creative when he feels playful either

- If you´re already calling him big guy, I´m guessing you´re shorter?

- Imagine this big, buff cutie smiling down at you and calling you shortie

- Adorable

Thank you so much for reading!  💖 💖 💖

Buy me a Ko-Fi!: https://ko-fi.com/klesiastumblr 

Masterlist: https://twistedwonderlandshizzz.tumblr.com/Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jack howl #jack howl x mc #jack howl x yuu #jack howl x reader #twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

[sinsinsininning]

So something I realized both from writing and reading fanfic about the Kid Pirates, we don’t really know anyone’s jobs. Like yeah we know Kid is the captain and Killer is first mate/mom friend but beyond that we don’t know anyone else’s roles. So I decided to make a brief collection of headcannons going over what roles everyone has on the crew. Obv there’s cross overs and a lot of people will do ‘a lil bit of everything’ but just to get a feel for how I picture everyone.

Kid: so he’s the captain but in the way he leads in battle, decides the course of action, and has final say on things. But on a day to day basis, delegations are handled by Killer and he spends most of his days in his workshop inventing or training. Sometimes he’ll take breaks to briefly oversee everyone else’s projects and tasks.

Killer: he’s the backbone of this crew. He delegates chores (cleaning), tasks (repairs), and projects (individualized based on that person’s skills and interest) daily every morning. He handles most of the cooking with a few crew helping prep and clean. He is the go to person for small to medium sized issues. Torn sail? He’ll handle it. Broken dishes that need replacing? He’s adding it to the list for the next supply stop. Out of seasoning for the food? He’s got a secret stash. Anything larger than that such as major ship damage or stolen goods he sends over to Kid.

Wire: despite being the biggest he’s probably the calmest, most understanding crew member. He handles all interpersonal issues, he’s a great mediator and also is a sort of therapist at times. If someone needs to work through mental issues, within his capabilities of course, Killer send them his way. Since the majority of his day isn’t filled by this, he has time for his real passion. Navigation! He assists Kid the most with charting and planning, he enjoys it immensely. If he isn’t needed for either of those then he’s usually doing routine cleaning and maintenance with everyone else. He’s a bit spoiled though and Killer will let him skip a few tasks to work on his maps.

Heat: while it’s not something he enjoys there’s no he has a skill for medical care. Far from being a doctor, Heat is more of a field medic, treating injuries in the midst of battle while still fighting off enemies. His eyes are sharp and his fingers are fast at stitching, which is his true hobby. He enjoys sewing, Wire will sketch up crazy outfit designs and Heat will spend a lazy afternoon stitching the fabric. Majority of his day is spent patching up clothes, bedding, and sails, giving a second life to would be discarded fabrics. Occasionally he will patch up injuries on board that happen, but he’d honestly rather be sewing or doing normal chores. He does injury care only, don’t you come to him with a fever, he’s out of his depth.

Hip and Hop: These two are sisters specifically recruited by Heat so they could take out as the crew medics, so while he’s still the go to field medic and the fastest sticher on board, these two fill in the gaps. Hop enjoys botany and making medications, while Hip is very good at diagnosis and treatment. If you’re bleeding go to Heat, anything else find one of the sisters. Most of their day is spent making salves and refilling medicines (this crew is a disaster of injuries and illness), they maintain the cleaning of the medic bay (it’s really just a small room) and the surgery suite (the closet attached to the small room).

UK, Papas, and Bubblegum: these three are in charge of weapons repair and maintenance. There’s no real system of who works on what, but Papas tend to gravitate more towards guns and projectiles while UK and Bubblegum prefer blades. Work load is usually higher after some sort of conflict, but at least once a day each of them will be checking the weapons for defects or wear just to be safe. Otherwise they participate in regular chores as needed.

House, Pomp, Quincy, and Moai: these four are the plumbing and electrical team. House and Moai have daily tasks to check the wiring and panels. While Quincy and Pomp are in charge of weekly pipe checks. This group is the most likely to have no active project going on and usually have the most chores.

Boogie and Mosh: these two work in the galley with Killer. They do most of the prep and cleaning. They don’t really have much time to do any other type of chores. They’re hobbies are all food related, Boogie likes baking sweets and Mosh likes making pastas and bread.

Dive, Jaguar, and Gig: these three are the shipwrights. Well Dive is the only one actually trained for it, but Jaguar and Gig have a passion for building and learning. It’s very funny watching the smallest member of the crew boss around possibly the two biggest. Projects for them are up and down depending on recent battles or weather, so some weeks they are too busy with repairs to help with regular chores and some weeks they have nothing to do besides clean.

Emma, Disc J, and Compo: this group is in charge of refuse and waste. They gather up all trash on the ship and either compost it to a nice fertilizer and be sold at a port for a little extra drinking money. Or they incinerate it in the shops furnace for extra fuel and heat. Some trash can’t be used for fuel or compost so it’s crushed down to a small size and disposed of at the next stop. This is a very time consuming job so they, like the kitchen crew, don’t have a lot of extra chores.

Think very communal work; if someone from the waste department wanted or needed to help out in the kitchen it wouldn’t be a big deal. Killer is good about knowing who’d make a good fit in different roles and typically only moves people who actually want to try something. So while Dive would be fine subbing in with the weapons group, Killer knows that she’d rather sub in at the plumbing area, but Emma would be more than happy to help weapons so that’s why he’d pick Emma.

Also when I say ‘most of their day is spent doing x’ I mean that VERY lightly. The group has plenty of leisure time, all the cleaning is divided up by 20 people and group projects are shared usually by 3-4 people. So whenever the boring work is done, the rest of the day can be spent working on projects (in a timely way), relaxing, sleeping, crafting, or sparring.

Let’s be real the Kid Pirates are kinda the communists of the sea, they’re not slaving away all day. What do you think think this is? Capitalism?

#one piece #eustass kid #one piece kid #kid pirates #headcanon #killer one piece

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dinkclump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

Some Saturday mornings, I look at the week's blogging and realize I have a lot more links saved up than I managed to write about this week, and then I do a linkdump. There've been 14 of these, and this is number 15:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Attentive readers will note that this isn't Saturday. You're right. But I'm on a book tour and every day is shatterday, because damn, it's grueling and I'm not the spry manchild who took Little Brother on the road in 2008 – I'm a 52 year old with two artificial hips. Hence: an out-of-cycle linkdump. Come see me on tour and marvel at my verticality!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Best thing I read this week, hands down, was Ryan Broderick's Garbage Day piece, "AI search is a doomsday cult":

https://www.garbageday.email/p/ai-search-doomsday-cult

Broderick makes so many excellent points in this piece. First among them: AI search sucks, but that's OK, because no one is asking for AI search. This only got more true later in the week when everyone's favorite spicy autocomplete accidentally loaded the James Joyce module:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2024/02/chatgpt-alarms-users-by-spitting-out-shakespearean-nonsense-and-rambling/

(As Matt Webb noted, Chatbots have slid rapidly from Star Trek (computers give you useful information in a timely fashion) to Douglas Adams (computers spout hostile, impenetrable nonsense at you):

https://interconnected.org/home/2024/02/21/adams

But beyond the unsuitability of AI for search results and beyond the public's yawning indifference to AI-infused search, Broderick makes a more important point: AI search is about summarizing web results so you don't have to click links and read the pages yourself.

If that's the future of the web, who the fuck is going to write those pages that the summarizer summarizes? What is the incentive, the business-model, the rational explanation for predicting a world in which millions of us go on writing web-pages, when the gatekeepers to the web have promised to rig the game so that no one will ever visit those pages, or read what we've written there, or even know it was us who wrote the underlying material the summarizer just summarized?

If we stop writing the web, AIs will have to summarize each other, forming an inhuman centipede of botshit-ingestion. This is bad news, because there's pretty solid mathematical evidence that training a bot on botshit makes it absolutely useless. Or, as the authors of the paper – including the eminent cryptographer Ross Anderson – put it, "using model-generated content in training causes irreversible defects":

https://arxiv.org/abs/2305.17493

This is the mathematical evidence for Jathan Sadowski's "Hapsburg AI," or, as the mathematicians call it, "The Curse of Recursion" (new band-name just dropped).

But if you really have your heart set on living in a ruined dystopia dominated by hostile artificial life-forms, have no fear. As Hamilton Nolan writes in "Radical Capital," a rogues gallery of worker-maiming corporations have asked a court to rule that the NLRB can't punish them for violating labor law:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/radical-capital

Trader Joe’s, Amazon, Starbucks and SpaceX have all made this argument to various courts. If they prevail, then there will be no one in charge of enforcing federal labor law. Yes, this will let these companies go on ruining their workers' lives, but more importantly, it will give carte blanche to every other employer in the land. At one end of this process is a boss who doesn't want to recognize a union – and at the other end are farmers dying of heat-stroke.

The right wing coalition that has put this demand before the court has all sorts of demands, from forced birth to (I kid you not), the end of recreational sex:

https://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2024/02/getting-rid-of-birth-control-is-a-key-gop-agenda-item-for-the-second-trump-term

That coalition is backed by ultra-rich monopolists who want wreck the nation that their rank-and-file useful idiots want to wreck your body. These are the monopoly cheerleaders who gave us the abomination that is the Pharmacy Benefit Manager – a useless intermediary that gets to screw patients and pharmacists – and then let PBMs consolidate and merge with pharmacy monopolists.

One such inbred colossus is Change Healthcare, a giant PBM that is, in turn, a mere tendril of United Healthcare, which merged the company with Optum. The resulting system – held together with spit and wishful thinking – has access to the health records of a third of Americans and processes 15 billion prescriptions per day.

Or rather, it did process that amount – until the all-your-eggs-in-one-badly-maintained basket strategy failed on Wednesday, and Change's systems went down due to an unspecified "cybersecurity incident." In the short term, this meant that tens of millions of Americans who tried to refill their prescriptions were told to either pay cash or come back later (if you don't die first). That was the first shoe dropping. The second shoe is the medical records of a third of the country.

Don't worry, I'm sure those records are fine. After all, nothing says security like "merging several disparate legacy IT systems together while simultaneously laying off half your IT staff as surplus to requirements and an impediment to extracting a special dividend for the private equity owners who are, of course, widely recognized as the world's greatest information security practitioners."

Look, not everything is terrible. Some computers are actually getting better. Framework's user-serviceable, super-rugged, easy-to-repair, powerful laptops are the most exciting computers I've ever owned – or broken:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/13/graceful-failure/#frame

Now you can get one for $500!

https://frame.work/blog/first-framework-laptop-16-shipments-and-a-499-framework

And the next generation is turning our surprisingly well, despite all our worst efforts. My kid – now 16! – and I just launched our latest joint project, "The Sushi Chronicles," a small website recording our idiosyncratic scores for nearly every sushi restaurant in Burbank, Glendale, Studio City and North Hollywood:

https://sushichronicles.org/

This is the record of two years' worth of Daughter-Daddy sushi nights that started as a way to get my picky eater to try new things and has turned into the highlight of my week. If you're in the area and looking for a nice piece of fish, give it a spin (also, we belatedly realized that we've never reviewed our favorite place, Kuru Kuru in the CVS Plaza on North Hollywood Way – we'll be rectifying that soon).

And yes, we have a lavishly corrupt Supreme Court, but at least now everyone knows it. Glenn Haumann's even set up a Gofundme to raise money to bribe Clarence Thomas (now deleted, alas):

https://www.gofundme.com/f/pzhj4q-the-clarence-thomas-signing-bonus-fund-give-now

The funds are intended as a "signing bonus" in the event that Thomas takes up John Oliver on his offer of a $2.4m luxury RV and $1m/year for life if he'll resign from the court:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GE-VJrdHMug

This is truly one of Oliver's greatest bits, showcasing his mastery over the increasingly vital art of turning abstruse technical issues into entertainment that negates the performative complexity used by today's greatest villains to hide their misdeeds behind a Shield of Boringness (h/t Dana Clare).

The Bezzle is my contribution to turning abstruse scams into a high-impact technothriller that pierces that Shield of Boringness. The key to this is to master exposition, ignoring the (vastly overrated) rule that one must "show, not tell." Good exposition is hard to do, but when it works, it's amazing (as anyone who's read Neal Stephenson's 1,600-word explanation of how to eat Cap'n Crunch cereal in Cryptonomicon can attest). I wrote about this for Mary Robinette Kowal's "My Favorite Bit" this week:

https://maryrobinettekowal.com/journal/my-favorite-bit/my-favorite-bit-cory-doctorow-talks-about-the-bezzle/

Of course, an undisputed master of this form is Adam Conover, whose Adam Ruins Everything show helped invent it. Adam is joining me on stage in LA tomorrow night at Vroman's at 5:30PM, to host me in a book-tour event for my novel The Bezzle:

https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/23/gazeteer/#out-of-cycle

Image: Peter Craven (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aggregate_output_%287637833962%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #the bezzle #ryan broderick #mary robinette kowal #exposition #john oliver #margot robbie #adam conover #ai #ai search #change healthcare #centralization #pharma #pbms #pharmacy benefit managers #corruption #scotus #crowdfunding #clarence thomas