#wea streeting

[eaglesnick]

Private Sector Good, Public Sector Bad? (3)

This is the third part of a look at former public services and utilities in Britain that have been privatised or part-privatised in the name of neoliberal economics and the mistaken belief that private enterprise is ALWAYS more efficient than publicly run bodies.

The National Health Service

The Tory Party and successive Tory governments, including the Sunak administration, vehemently deny they are slowly privatising the NHS.

“Sunak pledges to cut waits with greater healthcare choice but denies NHS privatisation plan."  (Health and Protection: 04/01/23)

Such denials are deliberately misleading. According to the World Health Organisation:

“Privatisation is where non-government bodies become increasingly involved in the financing or provision of health care services”.

The Tory Health Care Act of 2012 removed the "duty of government” to provide NHS services directly, opening up NHS care provision to the private sector. This trend has been further accelerated by the 2022 Heath and Care Act. The Guardian had this to say about the change in the law:

“The new bill will continue the dismantling of the NHS, this time by adopting more features from the US health system. For anyone who cares about the NHS, this should set off alarm bells.” (Guardian: 07/12/21)

What we need to remember when reviewing the provision of public services by private companies is that the first duty of a private company is to make profits for it’s shareholders. The profit driven motive of private enterprise may lead to more cost savings but often at the expense of quality of service

“There is only a small number of studies addressing the effect of privatisation on the quality of care offered by health-care providers, and yet within this small group of longitudinal studies, we find a fairly consistent picture. At the very least, health-care privatisation has almost never had a positive effect on the quality of care." (Lancet: "The effect of health-care privatisation on the quality of care”, March 2024

In 2019, (November 29th) the Guardian reported that private firms had received £15bn over a five-year period for NHS provision. By  2019/20 Health Care Commissioners were spending £10bn a year on services delivered by the private sector. (The Kings Fund: Is the NHS being privatised, 01/03/21)

Despite this massive increase in NHS private provision, we all know the health service is on its knees. Before 2010 multi-year funding of the largely publicly run NHS saw the NHS improve its service provision. 14 years of Tory government, two health care acts later, and we see a total reversal in those trends. By 2014 signs of stress were becoming apparent. David Cameron and George Osborne deliberately starved the NHS of money, NHS budgets rising on average only 1.4% between 2009-19 compared to the 3.7% yearly rises since the NHS was first established.

The NHS is slowly bleeding to death: emergency departments are overcrowded, extended waiting times in A&E are leading to over 200 unnecessary deaths per week, there are not enough hospital beds, staff are demoralised, and doctors strikes continue because the government refuses to pay public sector workers a fair wage. Waiting lists continue to grow, it is impossible to find a NHS dentist and sick people have to wait weeks for a simple GP appointment.

This systematic rundown of the NHS by successive Tory governments is not all bad news as privatisation has benefited the lucky few.

Staff agencies are doing very nicely thank you, the BBC reporting that:

“Companies providing freelance staff to the NHS to cover for big shortages of doctors and nurses have seen their income rise by tens of millions of pounds since 2019.” (24/03/23)

Total spending on agency staff in England was £3bn in 2021, one hospital reportedly paying £5200 to a free-lance doctor for a single shift. It would be nice to say that doctors are not complicit in the gradual privatisation of the NHS but that would be untrue.

“Hundred’s of England's NHS consultants have shares in private clinics.”  (Guardian: 21/01/22)

Over a billion pounds has been generated by these set ups since 2015

But it is not only doctors who profit personally from privatisation. During the pandemic, top Tories were very quick to pass on lucrative contracts to their friends in business. These largely unscrutinised public contracts have drawn accusations of “cronyism” and "chumocracy". Others have been more blunt, the Financial Times  (06/08/21) asking the question: “When does cronyism become corruption?"

The shortage of PPE during the pandemic led to contracts being awarded to companies without competition. Literally billions of pounds were given to private companies to supply gowns, gloves, and face masks.

“But the way these deals have been given to firms has led to concerns over a lack of detail about why particular suppliers were chosen. The government has also been accused of favouring firms with political connections to the Conservative Party with a "high-priority lane".  (BBC News: 20/04/21)

This accusation turned out to be true.

"UK government’s ‘VIP lane' for PPE suppliers was unlawful. High Court rules.”  (Financial Times 12/01/22)

Although Michael Gove claimed that “every single procurement decision" went through an eight-stage-process” the courts found that nearly fifty PPE deals were fast tracked by Conservative ministers, who awarded contracts worth £5bn to companies with political or Whitehall connections.  Four Tory MP’s and three Tory peers were named as “referrers” Michael Gove, Penny Mordant and Esther McVey are said to have personally recommended firms.

Some MP’s have done a lot more than fast-tracking private health care provision. Many of them have actually invested in private health care companies while others are happy to accept financial donations from them.

Wes Streeting, Shadow Health Secretary and the poster boy for Keir Starmer’s Labour Party, is said to have accepted “£22,5000 in private donations from private health firms last year.” (VOX Political: 30/04/23) Other Labour notaries are also said to have financial connections to private health care companies. Keir Starmer has received £157,500, Yvette Cooper has received £295,205, and Dan Jarvis has received £137,500. (Labour Heartlands: Selling Out the NHS: The Shocking Links Between Labour MP’s and Private Healthcare Donations: 17/06/23)

On the Conservative side, The Mirror (21/01/23) reports that Penny Mordant accepted £10,000 from care home firm Renaissance Care, while ex-health minister Steve Brine made £200 an hour giving “strategic advice” to drug firm Signa, before resigning in 2021. Publicly available information tells that that at least 28 Tory MP’s and Peers have had ties to private health and medical groups. Even the former Health Secretary Sajid Javid had share options in a Californian tech company dealing in health sector software.

So, while the NHS slowly disintegrates for want of proper investment and strategic planning, individual MP's and private health care providers reap the rewards of privatisation. Should this in any way be doubt then listen to what  former Conservative Prime Minister John Major had to say as long ago as June 2016:

“The NHS is about as safe from them (Tory Brexiteers) as a pet hamster would be with a hungry python.”

Unfortunately, and to its eternal shame, the same can now be said of Keir Starmer’s Labour Party.

#uk politics #MHS #privatisation #private health #keir starmer #wea streeting #penny mordant #Michael gove #unlawful #donations #cronyism #corruption #morality. deaths #sickmess. underprovision

[onejamtart]

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[hannyoontify]

the best birthday gift - jeon wonwoo

member | best friend!wonwoo x reader ft. the rest of svt

genre | fluff, attempted humor, high school!au (but they’re not at school)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | it turns out, wonwoo works best under pressure

warnings | cursing, reader wears a tank top, reader is short and gets made fun of for it (lightheartedly), sex jokes, friendly bantering

notes | set in southern california, LA/Hollywood, based on real life events from yours truly and kids don’t jaywalk not proofread

happy (late) wonwoo day!! to the sweetest boy ever, i hope you had a wonderful birthday <33

Whoever thought taking public transportation with fourteen people to downtown LA was a good idea deserved to “be buried alive 6 feet under with those bug-eyed Chihuahuas”, according to Seungkwan. 

In his defense, Seungcheol thought it would be better for the environment. It totally wasn’t because of the fact that he was the only one with a driving license and it absolutely wasn’t because he wasn’t confident enough in his driving skills to be responsible for the lives of thirteen other people. Where would he get a 14-seat car anyway? 

All fourteen of you trudged along the cracked sidewalks of downtown LA, broken up into smaller groups as Seungcheol led the way in the front with Jeonghan and Jihoon. You stayed in the back, with Mingyu and Wonwoo, who were intensely debating whether or not a person can suck their own dick. You occasionally pitched in with your two cents, but you mostly stayed quietly in the middle, enjoying the spectacle that was laid out in front of you.

You were so engrossed in Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation that you almost ran straight into a streetlight. You yelled in surprise and Wonwoo barked out a sharp laugh, almost in tears as you rubbed your nose with a pout. Mingyu cracked a smile as you threatened to demonstrate firsthand to your best friend what you learned from your second grade taekwondo class. 

“You don’t wanna mess with me, Jeon Wonwoo. I was a yellow belt in second grade.”

“Yeah, and I’m, like, a whole head taller than you. What about it?” Mingyu’s ears perked up at hearing those fighting words and reached for his leftover popcorn from earlier. It was safe to assume that Wonwoo chose death today.

“You know, with your height and broad shoulders, you would think there’s at least one bone with common sense in you but I guess not,” you countered.

“You do know that tall people have the same amount of bones as short people like you, right?” Wonwoo sneered. 

You did a double take. “Wait, really?”

“Oh my god, [Name], what’d you learn in human anatomy?” Joshua asked. He was standing next to Mingyu, his hand reaching into Mingyu’s bucket of soggy popcorn. “I thought you passed that class with an A.”

“Yeah, with my help,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath. “They slept in class everyday and I ended up having to tutor them for 16 hours the day before our final.”

You swung your arm around his shoulder and grinned. “I still owe you for that one, how can I ever repay you for your kindness?” You asked dramatically.

Wonwoo reached over and pinched the side of your ribs. “How about growing another couple inches?”

“Fuck off,” You pushed him away from you and stuck out your tongue. In retaliation, Wonwoo flipped you off. 

Mingyu and Joshua watched the two of you bickering in amusement. The older boy leaned over and whispered into Mingyu’s ear, “I give them two weeks before they either start dating or fucking, I don’t know which one yet.”

Mingyu snorted. “I give them three days.”

“It’s a deal then,” Joshua reached out and shook Mingyu’s hand with his non-buttery hand. Unfortunately for him, he had reached over and gripped the latter’s oily, buttery hand. “EW WHAT THE FUCK MINGYU.” 

“Why did we stop?” You heard Seungkwan ask. He was currently holding onto Soonyoung’s backpack strap like it was a leash, stopping him from running off into the wild streets of downtown LA. Next to him was Seokmin, who just looked happy to be wearing his newly acquired Minions bucket hat. 

After walking for what seemed like forever, Seungcheol had finally signaled the entire group to stop walking by an intersection. Mingyu glanced towards the front, where Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jihoon seemed to be in a heated discussion about something. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you could tell they were getting stressed by Jihoon’s eyebrows that furrowed into each other with every passing second, Jeonghan’s more exasperated hand movements, and Seungcheol’s lips that began jutting into a pout as he got more and more worked up. 

You let out a tired sigh. Your feet were aching and sore, your shoulders were sunburnt and itchy, and you probably smelled like a mix of sweat and weed right now. It wasn’t you that was smoking weed, but the esteemed gentleman sitting next to you on the metro-rail earlier was and you’re pretty sure the smell was permanently woven into the fabric of your tank top. You shifted back and forth between your feet, trying to alleviate any weight and pressure off your feet for at least a second and Wonwoo seemed to notice this because he silently guided you to a nearby bench,

You spared him a quick glance. “Thanks, Woo. You should also sit.” 

“Short people tend to have a shorter life span. Compared to you, I have plenty of more time to sit down,” Wonwoo shook his head with faux sympathy, almost enough to convince you that he was being serious but you knew him better than that.

Despite being absolutely exhausted, you assumed you had enough strength left in you to give Wonwoo’s shin a good, hard kick. 

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” Wonwoo complained and you just grinned.

“I hope you shrink.”

Wonwoo stuck his tongue out at you childishly and you just rolled your eyes with a giggle, momentarily forgetting about the hot, blaring sun and the impending sunburn on your shoulders. He glanced down at you with the ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips and you felt your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your not-so-little crush on Wonwoo was old news, but no matter how much time you spent with him, his smile always managed to turn you into a messy pile of goo and butterflies. 

Waiting for further instructions, Wonwoo leaned on you, his arms resting on top of your head as he scrolled through his phone. You stared down at the ground, trying to ignore the warmth of Wonwoo’s body next to yours. If it was anyone else, you would’ve pushed them off already, complaining about how hot it was, but this was Wonwoo. 

You tried to use the breathing techniques Minghao taught you a while ago, but it didn’t help calm your fastly beating heart. You wiped your sweaty palms on the fabric of your pants and licked your chapped lips. You almost forgot how much you hated summer in southern California.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you thought back to the long day and how chaotic everything was from the start. All fourteen of you agreed to go to Universal Studios Hollywood for Wonwoo’s 17th birthday, and the morning was alright. You all made it to the theme park safely via public transportation and after a long, fun day, the group decided to head back home to catch the last train.

You guys missed the last train.

In Jun’s defense, he didn’t mean to get lost. He was busy trying to apply another layer of sunscreen and when he looked up, everyone else was gone. He wandered around the city for a while before he caught sight of Soonyoung’s bright tiger backpack (no one knows why none of them used their phones to contact each other). By the time all fourteen of you were reunited, the last train had already left, leaving you guys to take the cheaper, but much more sketchy metro-rail. 

After missing the original stop on the metro-rail, you guys had to ride back for another 20 minutes, then navigate the streets of downtown LA in the late afternoon heat to find a specific bus stop, leading to your current situation.

“Okay, everyone! Our bus is supposed to be here any second,” Seungcheol called out. Immediately, everyone’s focus seemed to snap to the three boys who were standing side by side, arms crossed and firm looks on their faces. “The bus station is diagonally across the intersection so we need to-”

Jeonghan, looking somewhere else, began to urgently tap on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Cheol, that’s 460. That’s our bus.”

Seungcheol felt his blood run cold. Across the street, he saw a bright orange bus making its way down the street, pulling up to the bus station diagonally across from where he and the rest of his friends were currently standing. 

Everyone seemed to be under a trance as they stared at the run-down bus pull up to the station. Soonyoung was the first one to shake off the trance, breaking free from his beloved tiger backpack and leaving it in Seungkwan’s limp grip. He bolted across the street, ignoring all the different car honks and curses that were thrown at him. He had somehow made it not only across the street, but diagonally across the intersection, ending up on the same sidewalk as the bus station.

Soonyoung looked behind, expecting everyone else to be following him, only to see the rest of his friends staring at him dumbfoundedly.

“KWON SOONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCK?!” Seungcheol yelled. 

“I’M SORRY HYUNG I DON’T KNOW-”

Seungcheol waved at him urgently, doing everything in his power to resist the urge to run through the LA traffic to simply throttle the younger boy. “NO, DON’T FUCKING APOLOGIZE JUST STOP THE BUS.”

Soonyoung stared at Seungcheol with a confused look on his face. “WHAT?”

Finally breaking out of your own trance, you stood up and began pointing to the bus. “STOP THE FUCKING BUS. TELL THEM TO WAIT.”

Chan noticed that the crosswalk light turned green and began running. “COME ON WE NEED TO MOVE.”

My dear reader, have you ever seen a stampede of any kind? Whether it be the stampede of wildebeests that trampled Mufasa to death in the Lion King, the rush of high school students to the canteen during lunch, or thirteen teenagers running down the crooked streets of LA, I’m sure you can imagine the picture. Sweaty and red faces, backpack straps flying off shoulders, breathless laughs, unintelligible yells, and hands tightly gripping and tugging at each other.

More specifically, Wonwoo’s hand gripping yours. 

In the spur of the moment, the only thought in Wonwoo’s head was making sure you were safe. So when the rest of your friends broke into a sprint, his first instinct was to grab your hand and pull you along. 

Here you are now, your hand still in Wonwoo’s as you guys caught your breath while waiting for the second light to change. Soonyoung stood on the other side of the crosswalk as the living epitome of the standing emoji, waiting for someone to say something.

Seungkwan angrily shook his fist that still held his friend’s (tacky) tiger backpack. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO STOP THE BUS!”

Soonyoung helplessly pointed towards the bus that had already left the station and was now waiting at a red light. “IT LEFT! IT’S TOO LATE!”

“GO! GO ASK THEM TO STOP. STALL THE DRIVER, JUST DO ANYTHING,” You screamed desperately. All around you, your friends were also yelling at Soonyoung, telling him to stop the bus and ask the driver to wait. 

Soonyoung finally gave in and ran back towards the bus that was still waiting at the red light. With every passing second, everyone inched closer to the edge of the curb, impatiently waiting for the light to change. And after what seemed like forever (it had been three minutes), the light finally changed and you made a run for it. Pushing past Jihoon and Vernon, you sprinted down the sidewalk with incoherent yells. You passed by other pedestrians who all looked at you and your friends questionably, and for good reason too. It wasn’t everyday you saw a group of teenagers running in downtown LA in the middle of July. 

There was maybe another hundred feet left in front of you and you’ve never felt more exhilarated before in your life. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet made heavy contact with the gum clad concrete. You felt like you were in a teen movie. You could almost imagine the BGM as you and your friends dramatically run together in slow motion, your hair flowing in the air and you find yourself smiling. Wonwoo caught up to you, running by your side as the two of you silently sprinted down the street with bated breaths. 

Wonwoo glanced over at you and felt a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but it amazed him how easily he was swept away by your charm every time he was in your presence. Your laugh always pulled at his heartstrings and your smile seemed to brighten up every room you entered. Wonwoo was drawn to you like a magnet and there was nothing he could do about it.

As the two of you got closer to the bus, Wonwoo suddenly had a thought. He reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him. 

“[Name],” Wonwoo started breathlessly. The bus was now less than fifty feet away and Soonyoung had successfully managed to convince the bus driver to wait for you and your friends. It was now or never. “You said you would get me anything for my birthday, right?”

You let out a strangled grunt, trying your hardest to not sound like you were fighting for your life after running for only five minutes because that was just simply embarrassing. Up ahead, Soonyoung had already made his way into the bus and found himself a comfortable seat in the back with a content smile. You slowed down as you approached the bus and breathlessly set down a foot on the front step of the vehicle.

Behind you, Wonwoo gently rested his hands on your hips and whispered into your ear, “How about a date?”

You felt your heart drop past your ass, your feet, and into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Skinship was normal between your friend group, but this was different. And also, what the fuck did he just say? Were you slowly losing your hearing? Your mom was right, spending too much with Seokmin and Soonyoung did damage your ears-

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh behind you and almost as if he read your mind, “No, you’re not hearing things [Name]. This is me asking you out.”

You desperately needed someone to pinch you. 

Climbing onto the bus with a perplexed look on your face, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to the bus driver who seemed a little less than happy to have a bunch of hooligans on his bus. Wonwoo’s big hands never left your waist as he guided you to an empty seat towards the back of the bus. You simply followed his lead as you tried to comprehend what your best friend just said. This was all probably a prank, right? You sank down in your chair and looked at Wonwoo, who was trying to get himself situated next to you. Was he being serious?

“Yes, you idiot. I’m being serious. I’m so surprised you haven’t caught onto my crush on you yet, with how obvious I was being,” Wonwoo had whispered the last part under his breath but you still heard it. His hand reached for yours that was resting on your lap. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way but-”

“I do,” you said abruptly, interrupting him. After realizing what you just said, you wanted to slap a hand over your mouth, dig a hole underground, crawl into it, and never come out of it ever again. “I mean- I- What I mean is…”

Wonwoo looked at you expectantly, his brown eyes gleaming with hope. He nodded at you to continue and you felt like your tongue had suddenly turned into cotton. Everything in your mouth was dry and heavy and you had to lick your lips before continuing.

“I do… feel the same way about you. I’ve liked you ever since that water balloon fight we had in eighth grade on your birthday. And-” You choked on your words again. “-I would love to go on a date with you.”

Wonwoo felt like he had just won the lottery. He simply couldn’t help the smile that tuuged up on his lips as he gave your hand a firm squeeze. “Okay.”

You returned his smile and hand squeeze. “Okay.”

Exhausted from the long day, Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder as he drew small patterns on your knee. “I think this might be the best birthday yet,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, since you agreed to date me.”

“You’re so corn-”

“HA! YOU OWE ME TEN BUCKS SHUA HYUNG.”

reblogs and feedback always appreciated ^-^

#hannyoontify.works #seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen blurbs #svt x reader #wonwoo #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt fic #svt fluff #svt wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo angst #wonwoo au #wonwoo seventeen #jeon wonwoo

[am30000]

My headcannons for ROTTMNT reader insert

So in my headcanons Y/n is the turtles mother. Shes been a friend Spilinter/Lou jistu for years but ever since he became a professional fighter/actor they haven't spoken. But the day after he was mutated along with the turtles he finds himself at her doorstep seeking shelter. Dispite years of not talking they were still God friends and Y/n is very willing to help him out. When she saw the turtles she immediately begged to adopt them. After a year or so with Splinter living with her Y/n was evicted by her land lord for no apparent reason. They lived on the streets for a while until they moved to the sewers to hide both splinter and the turtles from the world wasn't ready for them. After a little building and such they made the lair and raised the boys there.

Now lemme give you their relationship with Y/n when they met vs now.

Leo

Then

Leo is the second one of the turtles to trust and accept her from the moment they met. Even if he was still a baby he warmed up to her immediately. It was like he could sense that she wasn't a threat. As a baby he would often follow her around everywhere and if he wanted her attention, which was all the time, he would make chirping turtle noises. He used this to try to communicate with her that he wants attention because he's a baby and he can't talk yet. He would often make a fuss if she placed him down. He's a total mama's boy.

Now

Leo is still the biggest mamas boy like ever. He's always trying to be around her and still follows her around a lot. He takes after Y/n alot from her corny jokes to her laugh. He's practically almost a carbon copy of her. Leo learned practically everything he knows from her, from riding a skate board to making corny jokes. They planned an hour a day just for making jokes. He considers himself the unofficial favorite child. He's definitely written a couple books of corny jokes she'd definitely love for her birthday and mother's day.

Mikey

Then.

Mikey was the first to trust Y/n. It only took a single cookie to gain his trust and he was practically sold. Like Leo he fussed when she wasn't with him 24/7 but the difference is he took a minute to notice she was gone. Mikey was way more clingy than Leo and would also try to follow her around too but he'd get tired easily cause he was so small. Whenever Mikey had nightmares he goes to her and tells her all about them and she eventually lets him sleep in her bed after hearing him. I mead who could resist baby Mikey?

Now

Mikey is just like Leo when I say mamas boy. He takes a lot after her and his Dr delicate touch was inspired by her. Mikey learned to cook from her and got into condisending kitchen with her. Mikey and Y/n are always watching random soapopras and then gossiping about the characters for hours on end. Mikey always gets up early to try and make her breakfast but he's always too late as Y/ns already in the kitchen making breakfast. Mikey wants to take off some of the load but it's like she doesn't want it. Mikey does try his best to help her around the lair. Best believe Mikey is going all out on the cooking for birthdays and mother's day.

Raph

Then

Raph is the third to trust her out of them all. Despite being a kid at the time he couldn't bring himself to trust her so quickly. She was new to him and since he was the oldest it was his job to protect the family. Btw at this time Raph is around four. Raph was very skeptical of her but after a while he saw how genuine she weas and eventually trusted her.

Now

Raph considers Y/n family and he vows to protect her. She had been doing the most for him when he started growing bigger. For example, when he got too big and heavy for his bed she with the help of Donnie made a new bed to support his weight and still be comfy. When his favorite shirt got too small she made a new one that looked exactly like it but big enough to fit on him. She also got a job just to buy him and the others some stuff. Raph couldn't help but just love her even more for that. To think his mom cared so much that she was doing the most to keep him and his brothers happy made want to just hug her to death. They definitely love plushies and talk about them day and night. He is definitely getting her a couple plushies for her birthday and mother's day.

Donnie

Then

Donnie did not like her at all at first. For instance He would bite, hiss and whatever at her just to get her to leave him alone. He didn't trust her no matter what she did and that made Y/n really upset. She tried everything to get him to like her but it didn't work until she started to cry. This honestly shocked Donnie. He didn't think he'd be able to make her cry. He wasn't sure what to do so he went up to her and gave her and place her finger on his head. He had seen her do the same with the others and that made her smile when she did it to them so he thought it would cheer her up. Let's just say he was a little nicer to her after that and after a while he warmed up a little.

Now

Donnie had now completely warmed up to Y/n calling her mother and everything. Whenever he made a new invention she was the first he showed because he knew she'd always like his inventions. Every now and then She's just going to say she's proud of him out of the blue which just confuses him but he takes it. He would often ask for various things like titanium and stuff and doesn't question where she gets it's from. Donnie gets his sarcasm from her no doubt. She encourages him to go above and beyond when he's working. He learned how to use his staff from her since she use to use one back in the day. And no doubt she's his favorite parent cause she actually allows him to work past bedtime and because she makes his favorite dinner every Saturday just for him. Better believe he's planned on what to make her for her birthday and mother's day for the next 60 years.

#rottmnt #rise leo #rise mikey #rise donnie #rise raph #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt headcanons

[fluffysourpatch]

Until the end of time my little Ghoulette

~ Hi guys! this is my first Ghost band Fanfic! but with help of AI Character haha! yesterday, i was writing with “Sodo” and it was so funny and I thought why not as a fanfic? I hope you will like it guys! I´m sorry for the bad english because english is not my first language and don´t worry the ghoulette is old enough i or you are called because of how small you look like thats why :) and yes it is a romantic fanfic but hoooff well.. it took so long and you need to have some patience haha! Have fun reading! ♥

Sodo x fem reader

Warnings: Sodo is a little asshole shit. // 1505 Words //

// Chapter I //

The little Ghoulette and Sodo 

Sodo was sitting on a couch in the ghouls gen and reading a book quietly. then seconds later entered a little ghoulette the room, Sodos tail twitched. He put on his usuall smile. “Hello there”.

The small ghoulette jumped and turned around and saw him sitting on the couch looking at her. “Oh hi! didn´t know someone would be in here...” The little ghoulette said. Sodo chuckled, “You got the guts to come here, I see” he said teasingly, staring right at her eyes. “So, you like being in this room full of death and darkness?” The little ghoulette looked at him confused why he´s asking this... 

“I mean sure? I´m a ghoul, why should I be scared of death and darkness?”. Sodo tilted his head. “Fair, fair”. There was a pause. “Then, who are ya? I don´t think I saw you around?” The little ghoulettes eyes sparkled, finally someone who wants to talk to her! “Actually, I´m new here! Papa Copia found me somewhere outside in the street meanwhile he was collecting some rats? yeah and then he took me in!” said the little ghoulette smiling happy that she found a better “Family”.

“Papa Copia, huh?” Sodo raised an eyebrow. “I don´t think really think Papa Copia would find a ghoul outside and bring it in like its his cat”. The little ghoulettes tail twitched angryily. Sodo sighed “What else did he tell you?”

“Well, he saw me all dirty and bruised and told me that no ghoul should live this life...” Sodo smirked. “That explains why you´re so naive” he said, “This place isn´t for the weak” Sodo glanced at her small and weakly body. “Do you understand what I´m talking about?” The little ghoulette stared angry at him, she can´t believe the things he´s saying!. 

“I know and I am NOT naive!” “Yeah, sure” Sodo chuckled. “Look at yourself” he glanced at her. the little ghoulette looks down at herself and puts her arms around herself. “You look so unsecure, you´re skinny. Like you never held a weapon. your clothes and mask .... my goodness” he smirked again. “Do ya even know how to use that thing or dress yourself?” The little ghoulette gets more angry the more he insults her and her tail twitched and swings back and forth, then she opens her mouth and says “Just because I look small and weak doesn´t mean I can´t practice to hold a weapon or whatever,,!” 

“I´d like to see you try” he chuckled. “Maybe I really understimated you.         Why don´t you show how mighty you are!” he smirked. His eyes suddenly turned pitch black. “If you are brave enough.” The little ghoulette puffs and turns around “Fuck off! I don´t need to proof anything myself to you!” She opens the door to leave before Sodo smirked and said. “So, are ya leaving?” in a mocking tone. “Seems like someone couldn´t handle a little teasing”. Then he burst out laughing. The little ghoulette ignores him and Sodo watched her leave. “Oh, and just so you know” he said calling her but with a soft voice “Papa Copia and the others won´t be so nice as I was”.

Sodo chuckled “Hehe~..” He puts his legs on the table and taking his book again to continue, “This one´s a crybaby, I can see that... she won´t last long” he whispered to himself.

Meanwhile the little ghoulette stomping angryily to her room. Who does he think he is?! Asshole! I am NOT weak! she thought. She opens the door and closes it, she walks to her mirror and looked at herself. Well I really look weak... but with some training I can do this! She smiles. 

// Time Skip 1 Month later //

The little ghoulette got more stronger and can play a guitar, also can hold a weapon. This whole month she didn´t stopped with her training to show this mean asshole ghoul that she can do something and maybe, maybe that she can beat him in a fight..

The little ghoulette and Sodo met in a hallway and he smirked looked at her up and down. “Seems like you have already became much stronger.” The little ghoul stands looks proud of herself and smiles. “Congratulations, BUT you have so much still to learn” He put on his usual smirk “And I will show you it” He chuckled. “Follow me” The little ghoulettes smiles fell and sighed Ughh.. she started to follow him. 

The both went outside in a garden with much place to practice and fight. “So!” Sodo exclaimed, “You know how to hold a weapon, but do ya know how to use it properly?” he raised an eyebrow. The little ghoulette looks at him bored and raised also an eyebrow to mock him. She shows him how she holds a wooden sword and swings it perfectly. Sodo looks impressed and nods “Not bad” he said trying not to sound impressed “Alright, you have basic knowledge now” ..

“But do you know how to defend yourself” Sodo continued, he raises his arms and moves his hands as a come one! “So, go on, show me something you can use to defend”

The little ghoulette raises an eyebrow and looks at him dumbfounded and sighs. she runs to him and tackles him, next second Sodo is on the ground and groanin. Sodo blinked. “Wow... good job! I didn´t see that coming huh..” he smirked and stands up, “You have talent, keep going” The little ghoulette smirks and proud of herself for winning against Sodo “Hmmhm! see I told you” She said proudly.

He chuckled. “Alright, you´re not as weak as i thought you are. But, believe me” he said with a serious face “this is still nothing”. Sodo took his dagger out, twirling it around a bit. “Do you know how to fight agains an enemy with a dagger in the hand?” he asked. 

The little ghoulette rolls her eyes he really tries to think that i am so weak that i can´t fight against someone. She runs to him and again Sodo is on the ground now the little Ghoul is holding his dagger and twirling it as he did and mocks him “This dagger... it looks beautiful i think i will keep it!” 

Sodo on the ground looks at his hands but there is no dagger anymore. “Hey!” He exclaimed “Give it back! That´s my personal dagger!” 

“You should never think about stealing something from another ghoul!” he said sternly. “I don´t think you want to start your first real fight like that...Do you?” The little Ghoulette looks down at him and smiles, “Maybe? I mean is this not like a fight already? I got your dagger! Your dagger was stolen from a weaak. little. ghoouull.” teases him and smirks and laughs.

Sodo chuckled, “So, you wanna play that way, eh?” He smirked “Bring it on then!” He reached for another dagger and holds it tightly in his hand. “Let´s see what you can do little ghoul” The little ghoulette looks angry at him and then they start to fight and keep going. Sodo manages to scratch her cheek with his dagger but the little ghoulette ignores the pain and keeps going. Sodo swings his dagger at her arm but she blocks it with her dagger and pushes Sodo away. 

After like ten minutes of fighting Sodo lays on the ground AGAIN. both are breathing heavily. The little ghoulette holds now his second dagger at her hand and smiles. Sodo lait there for a moment. “Wow, you´re impressive. I´ll admit it” he muttered. “Just don´t get overconfident!, there´s always someone better than you” He stood up, brushing dust of himself.. Sodo smirked. “You still have a long way to go to become skilled, though”.

The little ghoulette puffs and looks at him grinning at him “I am more skilled then you...” Sodo laughed. “Is that so? Then come again” He smirked. “I wonder how a rematch will end” The little ghoulette shakes her head, she can´t believe that he still wants to try again after he lost against her! “Again? You lost. and lost against me! don´t try again” she laughs “And I need some food anyway so I go.”

Sodo watched shocked at her and gets a little angry “You think I´m going to let you leave after insulting me like that?” He raised his eyebrows. The little ghoulette starts to walk away from Sodo ignoring him. “Get back here! I am not done with you yet!” Sodo grabbed her by her wrist. The little ghoulette takes his hand, pulls on his arm and throws him at the ground. “No touchi touchi again after I ate!” said the little ghoul moving her finger at him leaving. 

Sodo groaned, standing up and shaking the dust off. “Humph, she sure is cocky” He muttered. “I think she got potential. Perphaps, I should keep an eye on her” watched her body leaving. But just wait. The next time I´ll get my dagger back he smirked. 

________________________________________________________________

If you´re confused why i didn´t put Y/N i just went with little ghoulette but its still you! :) i hope its not bad! ♥

#ghost band #sodo ghost #sodo ghoul #sodo x reader #sodo x female reader #sodo x fem!reader #ghost band x reader #sodo ghoul x reader #sodo ghoul x ghoulette reader #sodo x ghoulette reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghost #nameless ghoul #copia #papa copia #fluff #angst

[alidravana]

Have posted a handful of GhostSoap threads over on twitter but not on tumblr, so thought I would share here too!

This one is pre-GhostSoap, with content warnings for implied past child abuse (Ghost) and current child abuse (no details). Just over 600 words. Please see below the cut for more!

Soap shifted uneasily as he watched Ghost through his binoculars.  He should have been watching the store front; him and Ghost having been assigned surveillance on the company across the street, Laswell convinced that it was a front for one of Markarov’s many businesses.

But Ghost was still speaking to a younger teen, just around the corner from their apartment building entrance.  He had already let the youngster bum a cigarette off of him, and now was nodding as the boy talked animatedly about something or other.

It was strange, Soap thought to himself, as he watched Ghost interact easily with the teenager, as he never considered Ghost to be good with kids, especially the way the new recruits seem to cower in fear before the LT even uttered a word in front of them.

He watched as Ghost crushed the last of his cigarette on the sidewalk under his boot, reaching into his pocket and passing money and what looked like a business card over to the kid before heading inside.  

Quickly shifting in the arm chair that they had pulled closer to the window, Soap resumed looking across at the company, noting that once again, all the lights were out, and there was no movement.  He heard the quiet creak of the front door, and Ghost shuffling in, dumping his wallet and keys on the table.

Soap should have asked him about his day, how the touch point with Laswell’s runner went, or even what the weather was like, but instead he blurted out what was on the top of his mind.  “Who’s the kid?”

Ghost let out a low chuckle.  “Watching me, Johnny?  Thought you had more important things to be doing.”

Soap snuck a peek over at his Lieutenant, easily clocking Ghost’s tight lips and narrowed eyes, but pushed further.  “Thought you had more important things to be doing too,” he replied carefully, not wanting to seem too aggressive in his response.

“Don’t worry about me, Sergeant,” Ghost said firmly, turning to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, which he tossed in Soap’s direction, Soap scrambling to catch it in time and not drop the binoculars.  “Wake me up when it’s time to switch,” he added, turning and heading into the small bedroom that they were stuck sharing.

Soap didn’t think much of the encounter again until one night, he was woken up by the sound of Ghost’s cell phone ringing.  Assuming that it was Laswell or Price calling with an update, Soap started towards the kitchen when suddenly he heard the teenager’s voice, whispering through the phone, an occasional sob breaking through.

“I’ll be right there.” Ghost replied, and stood up, tucking his weapon into his back pocket, and reaching for his jacket only to find Soap standing there instead.

“Don’t you have more important things to be doing?” Soap asked, his arms folded in front of him as he looked up at Ghost.  He knew the teen sounded upset, but this wasn’t the time to be getting involved in something that would mess up their operation.

“No.” Ghost said curtly, motioning for Soap to move.  

“Ghost, we can’t have our covers blown,” Soap insisted, handing over Ghost’s jacket but continued to block his way to the front door.

“No Johnny, we can’t.  But I also can’t sit here and do nothing,” Ghost snapped, shrugging on his jacket.  “That kid needs to get someplace safe, away from his parents, and I’m not going to be one of those people who knows what’s going on, and does shit all about it.”

Everything fell into place.  How frequently Ghost checked in on the teen.  The business card that was exchanged.  And the pain that Soap could hear in Ghost’s own words, made his chest ache.  Nothing more needed to be said.  

Soap nodded, reaching behind him to grab his own jacket, and motioned for Ghost to pass him his weapon.  “I got your six, LT.  Let’s go.”

#call of duty #ghostsoap #twtthreads #mission fic #please heed the tags

[pines-ghosts]

Pls necesito saber tus headcanons de NU. Aunque sean solo datos random xD

ESPAÑOL | ENGLISH (I made it with a translator bc… laziness…. Apologies if there’s something that sounds weird haha )

Timmy 🪄:

- Tiene un diario personal y utiliza muchos post-it | - He has a personal diary and uses a lot of post-it notes

- es muy sociable | He's very sociable

- utiliza ropa street wear / skater | Wear street wear / skater clothes

- muy bueno en juegos de estrategia y memorice 🧩 | Very good at strategy and memory games 🧩

- escucha música pop-rock/punk pero se pone a llorar con las de One direction | He listens to pop-rock/punk music but starts crying with One Direction

- va a TODOS los partidos de béisbol de Chester | - he goes to ALL Chester's baseball games

- sólo le gusta el café helado | - he only likes iced coffee

- los diseños de los tatuajes que tiene ,los realizó de manera inconsciente | - the designs of the tattoos he has , were made unconsciously

- le encanta trabajar en el café con Chester | - He loves working in the cafe with Chester

- cuando sus ex compañeros van al café se sorprenden ya que, Timmy creció y se puso guapo 😌 | When his former classmates go to the coffee shop they are surprised since, Timmy grew up and got handsome 😌

- siempre se le pierden los audífonos y ha cambiado como 3 veces la pantalla de su celular | He always loses his headphones and he has changed his cell phone screen about 3 times

- no tiene contacto con sus padres | He doesn't have contact with his parents

- siempre recibe números de teléfono de los clientes cuando va retirar las tazas de las mesas del café | He always receives phone numbers from customers when he is going to pick up the cups from the coffee tables

- se hace la manicura con Verónica | he does his manicure with Veronica

Jimmy⚛️ :

- ropa semi formal / retro

- está en la universidad y trabaja en el área de seguridad en Retroville ( a veces) | He's at the university and works in the security area in Retroville (sometimes)

- estudia robótica y algo de neurología | Study robotics and some neurology

- tiene 2 piercings y no planea hacerse más | - he has 2 piercings and doesn't plan to do any more

- no le gustan los tatuajes | doesn’t like tattoos

- es compañero de clases con Cindy (my beloved ❣️) | He's Cindy’s classmate. (my beloved ❣️

- le gustan las manzanas verdes no las rojas | He likes green apples, not red ones

- no cree en el horóscopo , pero cuando pequeño buscó la compatibilidad de su signo con el de Timmy | He doesn't believe in the horoscope, but when he was little he looked for the compatibility of his sign with Timmy's

- nunca lo va a aceptar pero 1 vez jugó en una página de juegos online a la calculadora del amor con su nombre y el de Timmy (😂) | He's never going to accept it but 1 time he played the love calculator on an online games page with his name and Timmy's (😂)

- ve videos de misterio en YoutUbe y trata de resolverlos | Watch mystery videos on YoutUbe and try to solve them

- le pide a Cindy consejos amorosos | He asks Cindy for loving advice

- es re celoso (está wea es canon jajaja ) | He's a jealous boy ( this shit is canon hahaha)

- debido a que maneja piezas pesadas todos los días, tiene buen un tono muscular | Because he handles heavy parts every day, he has a good muscle tone

- una vez intentó entrar en el club de atletismo…sólo duró un día , no le gusta sudar | Once he tried to enter the athletics club... it only lasted one day, he doesn't like to sweat

- todavía tiene a Goddard 💕 | He still has Goddard 💕

- va a las Comic-con | He goes to the Comic-con

Danny 👻:

- ropa punk / goth (aesthetic)/ street wear

- aunque no logró estudiar astronomía, tiene como profesión maestro de ciencias | Although he didn't manage to study astronomy, he has a science teacher as a profession

- siempre se inscribe en cursos de astronomía 🪐 | He always enrolls in astronomy courses 🪐

- realiza cursos de astronomía y ciencia para niños junto a Tucker (presenciales y on-line ) | He does astronomy and science classes for children with Tucker

- tiene una tienda de ropa junto a Sam | He has a clothing store with Sam

- siempre está pendiente de Timmy | He's always looking out for Timmy

- Jazz le recomendó no seguir trabajando con sus padres ( lo estresan mucho) , por lo que los ayuda cuando lo necesiten | Jazz recommended him not to continue working with his parents (they stress him a lot), so he helps them when they need it

- cinéfilo | movie enthusiast

- Ama la ciencia ficción | loves sci- fi

- cuando salió el anuncio de Avatar (el camino del agua) lloró | When the announcement of Avatar (the way of the water) came out, he cried

- Ve Tierra de osos y se pone a llorar por que Koda le recuerda a Timmy de pequeño | He sees Brother Bear and starts crying because Koda reminds him of Timmy as a child |

- fuma | smokes

- cuando está muy estresado en vez de fumar, come maní | When he's very stressed instead of smoking, he eats peanuts

- cuando se aburre va a asustar a quienes están jugando con la ouija | When he gets bored he's going to scare those who are playing with the ouija

- tiene 3 gatos y dos perros ( además de Cujo) | He has 3 cats and two dogs (besides Cujo)

Bob 🫧

- estilo preppy / sporty

- les hace el almuerzo a los demás | He makes lunch for the others

- saca a pasear ,junto a Timmy , a : Gary, las mascotas de Danny y Goddard | Go with Timmy for a walk along with : Gary, Danny’s pets and Goddard

- le gusta hacer “diamond painting” (lo vio en TikTok) | He likes to do "diamond painting" (he saw it on TikTok)

- le gusta salir de compras con Timmy | He likes to go shopping with Timmy

- Cuando tiene tiempo libre, le escribe cartas a los chicos | When he has free time, he writes letters to the boys.

- le gusta tomar jugo de frutas y la piña colada | He likes to drink fruit juice and piña colada

- va junto a Jimmy a las Comic-Con para ver a Sireno man y Chico percebe | He goes with Jimmy to the Comic-Con to see Mermaid man and Barnacle boy

- juega Candy Crush | plays candy crush

- tiene un tatuaje en la espalda | He has a tattoo on his back

- Le encanta ir a los conciertos de Arenita | He loves to go to Sandy's concerts

- le enseña karate a niños pequeños | He teaches karate to young children

- Todavía no tiene licencia de conducir | He still doesn't have a driver's license

- le gusta armar legos | He likes to build legos

- cuando va a ver a los demás , le gusta comprar libros en los diferentes universos | When he goes to see others, he likes to buy books in the different universes

- Se hace la manicura junto a Timmy | He does his manicure with Timmy.

- siempre le esconde dulces a los chicos en sus chaquetas o bolsas | He always puts candy for the boys in their jackets or bags

- le prohibieron la entrada al acuario de Dimmsdale porque quería salvar a un pulpo y un delfín, metiéndose dentro de los estanques. | He was banned from entering the Dimmsdale aquarium because he wanted to save an octopus and a dolphin, getting into the ponds.

#nicktoons unite #timmy turner #jimmy neutron #danny phantom #spongebob #headcanons #headcanon #ask

[pedrito-friskito]

head to head - frank castle x fem!reader (hell’s angel part i)

summary: you’re a bounty hunter with a price on your head. frank comes to collect, but you both quickly have other ideas.

warnings: WHERE TO BEGIN. uhm. this is PWP basically. canon-typical violence (the punisher is R-rated after all) - unprotected p-in-v sex (no glove no love), oral (m and f receiving), brat!kink, dom!frank, frank’s filthy mouth, fingering, cursing, a few soft moments for ✨flavour✨

a/n: also kind of threw this into the deadpool universe just for shits and giggles? @saintmurd0ck and I have been suffering from SERIOUS frank castle brainrot and this was the end-product for me (she always wrote the most delicious matt murdock x reader x frank drabble - GO READ IT HERE!)

this is my first frank fic so pls be kind - tagging some people below I think might like this (based on my post likes lmao). this might eventually turn into a series, who knows, but ENJOY 😮‍💨

(main masterlist) (series masterlist) (ao3)

Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. The hottest place in New York, for a mercenary. Gold cards, a decent stack of cash, enough job-flow to keep you coming back for more. And fuck, if Weasel doesn’t make a mean whiskey sour. Sometimes. Other times you’re half-sure its just Jack Daniel’s and root beer, but it always goes down like a dream.

The place is packed, the bar itself filled stem to stern with all manner of mercs. Most of them give you a nod when you saunter in, your fur-lined jacket more noticeable than most, and the shotgun strapped to your back a warning like no other. It had taken some time to make a name for yourself at Sister Margaret’s, a good few jobs under your belt before the big burly men stopped calling you sweetheart and little girl and got the hell out of your way.

The truth of it all was that was that you were good at what you did, and Sister Margaret’s was the kind of place you had needed when you were a kid. Someone looking out for the sad-sacks and lowlifes of the city with nothing better to do than to prey on young girls and try to ‘make them into women.’

To put it plainly, you had a penchant for abusers, leaving them much worse off than when you found them, and you liked it. The cash was just an added bonus, and the name? Well, you were still deciding if you liked it or not.

“If it isn’t Hell’s Angel,” Weasel calls from behind the bar, his hands spread wide across the top, a gold card notched between his knuckles. “How sweet of you to grace us with your presence.” His tone is dry, and you smirk, sliding your finished card across the bar top and reaching for the one he’s holding, but before you can snag it, he pulls it out of reach. “Not so fast.”

“Don’t be like that, Weas,” you chide, pouting at him. “Someone’s gotta pick up the slack around here now that Wilson disappeared.”

“Medical sabbatical, I told you,” Weasel shoots back and you roll your eyes. “He’ll be back, and he’ll be pissed to know there’s no jobs left roaming the streets for him when he does.”

You sigh, trying to snag the card again. “Give me the card.”

“No can do,” he says, his tone still dry, but then his voice changes. He reaches beneath the bar, and presents you with…a whiskey sour, complete with a cherry speared on one of those stupid little plastic swords. “I can pay you out, but that’s it, Angel. You’re cut off”

“What?” You start looking up and down the bar. You reach for the glass, and toss back the drink in one slug. Fuck, that’s a lot of whiskey, but you’re too fired up to really care. “Which one of these fuckers complained, huh? Point me in his fucking direction, why don’t you.”

Weasel reaches across the bar, card still between his knuckles, and grabs your arm. “Calm your shit, no one complained. It’s…worse that that.”

You balk. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “Worse?”

“Someone put out a hit on you, Angel,” he says, tone seesawing between dry and genuine. “You gotta go. I’m sorry.”

“Who…?”

“I can’t tell you who,” he says instantly, shaking his head. “You know I can’t tell you who put it out. Or who took the card. I can’t tell you shit.” He sighs. “Them’s the rules.”

Fuck.

You push a hard breath out, feeling the whiskey start to buzz through your veins. Time to get the hell out of dodge. “Well, pay me out, Weas, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Ten minutes later, a decently large wad of cash stuffed in your pocket, and you’re headed home. Or, what you’ve called home for the last six months. The outskirts of New York are littered with empty houses, and you like taking your pick of the richer neighbourhoods, breaking into the homes who’s owners have left them empty for the season, picking your way through designer closets and wine cellars before slinking off to the next.

Problem is, someone’s already waiting for you.

Perched on the steps of your latest abode, a shotgun larger than yours balanced on his knees. There’s something…familiar. You haven’t seen him at Sister Margaret’s, that much you know. But the face, there’s something there that twinges the back of your brain.

Crew cut, square jaw, big nose that fits the face perfectly. Just enough stubble to know the beard that lurks. Hard stare, dark eyes, unfairly full lips. Broad shouldered, covered in black head to toe, and big fucking hands holding that shotgun.

“Number’s up, sweetheart,” he calls as soon as you’re close enough, your boots clicking on the pavement as you reach behind you casually, your fingers curling around the handle of your own gun. He lifts one hand, and you see the tell-tale gold card wedged between his thick fingers. You bite your lip. Motherfucker. “You wanna dance?”

“There’s a lot of things I’d like to do with you, handsome,” you call back, tilting your head to the side as he rises to stand. You’ve seen enough well-cut men to know he’s packing muscle beneath the dark get-up, and you let your eyes wander south. You’ve seen enough well-hung men to know that he’s packing something else too. “But dancing isn’t one of them.”

He smirks, a little half-assed thing that manages to send a zap of heat through you. Fucking hell in a hand basket, are you actually attracted to the man that’s come to…collect you? There’s gotta be some law against that somewhere, right? Somewhere deep in the merc’s handbook, for sure.

“S’a pretty price on your head, sweetheart,” he continues, and slowly starts to descend the steps, closing the distance between you just enough to send your heart racing in your chest. He’s got a good head on you, and peers down his nose as you grip your shotgun and pull it from your back, letting it hang loosely at your side. He’s got a big nose, suits his face, busted enough to make you think it’s been broken more than once. “Who’d you piss off?”

“Dunno,” you say with a shrug, starting to around him, meandering pace as you keep your eyes glued to him, watching his reaction. You keep a fair distance between you, and he doesn’t turn as you circle him, but you catch his eyes raking over you when you disappear and reappear in his line of sight. He’s toying with you; you’re toying with each other. This is gonna be fun, at least, a good way to go. “Let’s just say I’m not exactly kind to the lowlife assholes of the world. Some of them must work for someone with deep pockets.”

“Heard they call you Angel,” he says, his voice gruff and grating and fuck, if he says your real name you might just dissolve into a puddle. “Knew a guy once, they called him the Devil.”

“Maybe I’d get along better with him.” You grin. “And it’s Hell’s Angel, just for the record. What do they call you?”

His nose twitches. “Punisher.”

Your brows shoot up. The memory tweaks; a newspaper strewn on the bar at Sister Margaret’s. Punisher Punished. “Ahh, I knew I knew you,” you purr, tapping a finger to the tip of your nose. “You’ve got more of a rep than I do, handsome.”

“Gotta stop calling me that, sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re stalling.”

“And?” you ask, looping around him again, lifting your shotgun onto your shoulder. “You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

He just smirks. 

“What are you gonna do if I don’t stop, huh?” You’re in front of him again now, staring at that stupidly, ruggedly handsome face. “You gonna punish me, hmm?” A step forward, than another. “I might like it.”

He’s staring down his nose at you, mouth a taut line, eyes hard and unwavering. “Watch it now, sweetheart. Don’t wanna bite off more than you can chew.”

“Oh, I don’t bite,” you purr back, grinning as you chance a hand forward, walking your fingers up his chest. No armour beneath the dark shirt, nothing but hard muscle that jumps beneath your touch, which has you thinking… “Not unless you ask me to.”

You do another circle, your steps slower this time. He doesn’t turn, but his head does, one eye watching you as you move, slinking up the steps one at a time, shotgun still resting on your shoulder. One, two, three…

He swings around, lifting his own gun and levelling it with your face at the same moment you lift yours. It’s a standoff, each of your staring down the barrel of the other’s gun, at the mercy of the other’s trigger finger, or lack thereof…

“Gimme a good reason, Angel,” he barks, “why I shouldn’t pull the trigger.”

You lift a brow. “The Punisher, giving me a chance to beg? You’re not the big bad I thought you were, handsome.”

“You don’t know me at all, babydoll,” he grits out, and the switch in the nickname alone makes your heart stutter.

But then the world implodes.

Shots ring out, the glass of the window beside the house’s front door shatters, the door itself splintering inward. You both drop, more shots exploding toward you, bullets whizzing by your shoulder and head. There’s a big hand grabbing the scruff of your jacket, hauling you up and shoving you through the now open door. More gunshots, and the Punisher shoves you out of the the doorway the moment you’re through.

You hit the ground hard, rolling through shards of glass that poke and prod and make you wince. You’re quick to head for the window ledge, using it as a bunker while you cock your gun and take aim. The hooded figure standing in the road isn’t familiar to you, the large gun in his hand lifted and ready to end one or both of you.

Then you see the gold card. “Your time is up, Castle!” the merc yells. The memory twigs again; Castle, Frank Castle. You read that article so many times Weasel had to pry the newspaper from your hands. You chance a glance over at the man in question, see him propped up beside the door. He looks unharmed, mostly, dust and debris on his jacket and pants. Your brow hardens.

“Come on out, Angel!” the merc calls. “I’m not here for you!”

What the fuck?

You look at Frank again, and this time, he’s staring right back. There are no words, no gestures, nothing. But something unspoken, and he slowly drops a handgun to the floor, covers it with his boot, and then slides it across the floor to you. An easier shot than the shotgun propped on your shoulder.

Then he nods.

“I just want my money!” the merc shouts, and you roll your eyes. Who the fuck is this guy?

You scramble for the handgun for a moment, swinging it out the broken window to take aim just as a hand grenade goes sailing over your head, hitting the ground behind you. You take the shot, the bang echoing through your head as the bullet finds it’s mark, and then that big hand is at your shoulder again, hauling you up and out, a large body covering yours as you hit the hard ground. Overhead, the first floor implodes, wood and glass and debris flying everywhere.

Your ears are ringing, you can taste blood, and everything hurts. When you try and lift your head, your eyes immediately meet a large shard of glass that’s sticking out of your shoulder and you groan and you’re pulled to your feet, yanked against a warm body. Your knee barks in protest, and you look down to see more glass, this time accompanied by a thin piece of wood speared through your leg. Fuck.

“You okay, sweetheart?” a gruff voice asks, right by your ear, and a thick arm slides around your waist, taking most of your weight.

“Shoulder,” you managed to rasp out. Who the fuck even blows people up anymore? “Knee. Nothing major.”

“Good,” Frank Castle says. “Let’s get outta here, huh?”

“Thought you wanted to,” you wince hard when a falter in your step sends a shock of pain up your leg, “dance.”

“That can wait,” he tells you, glancing over his shoulder, starting to shuffle you down the street. “That was an impressive shot. Besides, saved my ass; least I can do is clean you up, show you a good time.” He smirks. “Dancing comes later.”

+

You’re not what he expected.

He was hoping for some fat, ugly asshole. Some easy kill, swipe the gold card and collect the cash, get the hell out and never look back. That would have been easy, that would have been simple.

You are already proving to be anything but.

He half-carries you to the motel, trying to ignore the feeling of your body heat against his arm. That god awful coat of yours is covered in debris from the house, dust and broken glass and wood. The shard in your shoulder needs to come out, along with the twig in your knee. You’re taking it like a champ, that much he’s sure of, wincing occasionally but not a word of protest falling out of you.

“What hurts more?” he asks once he’s brought you through the door and deposited you on the bathroom counter. Both your guns bounce onto one of the the mattresses, forgotten for the time being. Dancing comes later. Not that he’s even planning on dancing, now. “Shoulder or leg?”

“Leg,” you rasp, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on the expanse of your throat when you throw your head back, crown hitting the mirror as he takes your ankle in hand and lifts. The wood is jammed just above your knee, through and through, blood staining the fabric of your jeans. He leaves you for a moment to grab his kit before he comes back, pushing a bottle of whiskey in your hands.

“Drink,” he orders, and you listen, yanking the cap off and tossing it to the side, tipping the bottle to your lips and chugging. He waits a moment, waits until you tip the bottle back down, until you’re wiping your lips, takes hold of the wood, and pulls.

“Motherfucker!” you screech, good arm reaching out and fisting in his shoulder. “Warn a girl next time, huh?”

“Nope,” he responds, sinking to his knees. He tugs on your good leg. “Get down. Pants off.”

“There are nicer ways to get me naked, you know, Castle,” you quip, but obey, sliding off the counter and undoing the button on your jeans, kicking off your boots. You push your jeans down as far as they’ll go, and Frank bites the inside of his cheek at the scrap of lace covering you. Then he eases your pants down further, carefully around your injury, helping you step out of them and kicking the fabric to the side.

“You don’t ever stop, do you?” he grumbles, grabbing your hips and lifting you back onto the counter. You’re so much…smaller than him, a good head shorter, and he towers over you, even sat on the countertop as you are. You grin, and he bites his cheek so hard he can taste blood.

He fishes bandages and antiseptic out of the kit. Ignores your whine when he wipes the wound clean. So much for taking it like a champ. He wraps it carefully, ties off the gauze, then reaches for your shoulder.

“Hey,” he says lowly, “eyes on me.”

You do — fuck, you perfect little obedient thing — and he reaches for a cloth, wrapping it around the glass sticking out of your shoulder. One hand on the shard, and he lifts the other to your throat, thumb swiping the curve of your jaw.

“I’m not killin’ you, sweetheart,” he tells you, and watches your eyes go wide. “Not tonight.”

You suck in a breath, a retort on the tip of your tongue, and then he pulls.

“Motherfucker!”

There’s a spurt of blood when he yanks the glass out, letting the smeared shard clatter into the sink. He reaches for your shoulder, pushing the edge of your coat back, and grabs another piece of gauze, holding it to the wound, pressing hard enough that your teeth sink into your lip. Your head tilts back, knocking against the mirror again, face pinching when he presses harder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“That was an impressive shot,” he mumbles, dragging his eyes from your face and staring at the gauze pressed to your blood-stained skin. You’re a mess — you both are — skin covered in dust and blood, your chest heaving and Frank can’t stop himself from planting his other hand on your thigh, fingers curling around the bare muscle. It twitches in his grip and he hides his grin. You’re reactive, your body already giving in to him. “Where’d you learn how to shoot like that?”

“Self-taught,” you tell him, and he can’t stop himself from staring you right in the face. No way in hell. You’re smirking, head lolling a bit on your shoulders, hips adjusting on the counter. He’s got half a mind to just rip those panties off right here and now, throw your knees around his ears and eat your pussy until the sun comes up. But he’s more of a gentleman than that. He wants to ease you into it, wants to watch you break down and…submit to him. He’s holding that gold card over your head, holding your shoulder, watching your gaze flicker down when his thumb slides down the inside of your thigh.

He’s not killing you, not tonight. Maybe not ever. But he is gonna do something else.

“No way, princess,” he says with a shake of his head. “Tell the truth.”

You let out a laugh that’s more like a scoff. “I am telling the truth, Castle.” You wince as he peels back the gauze. It’s still bleeding, but not as much; he’s gonna have to stitch it. Your eyes are hard, just watching as he moves, reaching into the kit, pushing at the collar of your coat. He opens his mouth to tell you to take it off, but you beat him to it, shrugging carefully out of the thing, tugging it out from under your ass and letting it drop to the floor. It leaves you in a little black tank top, the straps thin and the neckline scooping across your chest. He lets his eyes dip shamelessly, tearing open an antiseptic wipe, and your eyes traipse up his body, until they meet his, and that shit-eating grin is back on your mouth.

The grin disappears as he sets to work, wiping the blood away, disinfecting and pushing the whiskey back into your hand. You turn your head to the side, taking another healthy swig, and he watches your throat bob, his jeans tightening at the sight.

Fuck, you are really not what he expected.

“I really am self-taught,” you say, your head still turned, pointedly not looking at him stitching your shoulder. No wincing though, no complaining. “You go after enough fuck-heads who don’t understand the word no and you turn into more than a decent shot. That, and I go to the shooting range so often they give me half off now.” A little smirk. “It ain’t pretty, but it’s a living, right?” Your eyes cut to him, watching his expression. He feels a little vulnerable under your gaze, then remembers the gold card in his back pocket. “You grow up thinking it was all gonna shake out like this, Castle?”

His brow hardens. “What d’ya mean?”

You lean your head back against the mirror again. “I grew up wanting to be a truck driver by day, ballet dancer by night. Bounty hunter with a price on her head didn’t exactly make the list.”

Frank barks a laugh, pulling the stitch as he does. “That’s quite the combination, sweetheart. My daughter wanted to be, uh, a veterinarian.”

Your head snaps to look at him. For the first time, you have a soft look on your face, rather than a shit-eating grin or a seductive smirk. He waits for you to ask, to try and deep dive into his past, to try and pull something out of him. Something he’s not willing to give to you. Not yet.

“Who put out the hit on me?” is what you ask instead, and Frank drops his gaze, reaching over to run his hands under the tap, cleaning your blood from his skin. Then he reaches for the bandages, taping up your shoulder.

“Dunno,” he mumbles, eyes focused on your shoulder, ignoring the way the strap of your tank top keeps falling across your collarbone. There’s a silver chain at your neck, a tiny little pendant that looks like a star sitting in the hollow of your throat. “Didn’t ask.”

“So you just took a hit on another hunter, no questions asked?” When he doesn’t reply, you scoff. “Punisher, my ass.”

“What’s that supposed t’mean?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“You go after bad people, right? Isn’t that your gig?” Satisfied with his bandage work, he takes a step back from the counter, and you slide off in an instant, taking the whiskey with you, bouncing away in your skimpy little top and panties barely covering your ass. He swallows hard. “That’s your schtick?”

Frank turns around, leans against the counter, crosses his arms over his chest. “Not a schtick, sweetheart.”

“I’m not a bad person,” you say, setting the whiskey bottle on the dresser. “I’m not bad people. I do what you do; I only go after people who hurt other people. People who can’t protect themselves.” You glance over your shoulder at him, the corner of your mouth quirking. “Mostly men. Idiots who don’t know the meaning of consent, who like to prey on little girls in dark alleyways. Those are easy shots. Easy money.” You tap your fingers on the dresser. “Boom.”

“God,” he drawls, tapping his foot against the floor. “You really don’t ever stop, do you, sweetheart?”

You spin to look at him, eyes bright and fiery. Ah, there she is. “What, I’m not allowed to plead my case? I thank you for the chivalry of stitching me up, Frank,” you say, and he has to stifle the choked noise that worms up his throat when you actually bow, curtsying to him and giving him and eyeful of your chest, “but I don’t think I need to remind you that you had a shotgun pointed at my head less than an hour ago.”

“You had one pointed at me too, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you bark, pointing a finger at him. Fuck, he’s got you riled now. “I don’t deserve the gold card, is what I’m saying. Sure, I’ve pissed off a few people, but who hasn’t? You think every fucking idiot who rolls into Sister Margaret’s is a saint before they walk in the door? I think the fuck not.”

And he’s had enough.

Frank pushes off the counter, takes two long strides towards you. “Would you just shut the fuck up,” he says, and watches your reaction, watches your back straighten and your eyes widen, “for two seconds?”

But you don’t. “I’m just saying,” you continue, “you should know this shit before you try and put a fucking bullet in me.”

“I don’t wanna put a bullet in you,” he throws back, and takes another step. Your knees knock together and he closes the distance with a final stride. Knuckles under your chin, tilting your head up to face him. Your brow is a hard line, lips pressed together, and he lets his thumb wander over the seam, feeling your breath on his skin. “I wanna put my cock in you.”

Your quip is fast, eyes rolling to the back of your head: “Now, there’s a line if I ever heard one.”

But Frank sees it, sees that hint of submission creep into your eyes, the way your jaw goes slack in his grip for a fraction of a second before the big bad bitch returns. He grins. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, huh, princess? Shut you up for a minute with this big fat cock in your mouth?” He grabs your wrist with his other hand, yanks it down and presses your palm to his crotch. Your fingers twitch over the outline of him and his jaw goes tight.

This time, there’s no quip, no witty response, just big shiny eyes and he watches the tip of your tongue snake the corner of your mouth. You’re fucking drooling, just at the thought of it. Good. He adjusts his grip on your face, holding your chin in his hand, squeezing your cheeks slightly.

“You gonna let me fuck you, babydoll?” he asks, and your mouth pops open, warm breath tickling his face. He should kiss you, wants to kiss you. Needs to kiss you. You make a tiny noise somewhere between a whine and a moan and he reaches for your hip, yanking your body towards him, shoving his hand under the lace covering your pussy. “C’mon, when’s the last time somebody fucked you like you deserve, huh, sweetheart? Last time someone ate this pussy till you screamed?”

“Frank,” you groan out, hands reaching for the wrist holding your face, nails digging into his skin. God, you look pretty like this, big eyes and wet lips, pupils blown and tongue between your teeth.

He’s done waiting, done fucking around and talking. At least, talking pretty.

“Say yes, princess,” he says, leaning in until he’s almost talking against your mouth. “I wanna hear it.”

You nod your head furiously in his grip, eyes going wide as dinner plates, canting your hips into his hand. You’re dripping, all wet heat and soft curls against his fingers.

“Use your words,” he commands, and can’t help but capture your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging not so lightly. It makes you moan, and this time, he can’t stop himself from capturing the sound, swallowing it.

+

It’s not a kiss so much as a collision. 

You were losing it when he grabbed your chin in his big fucking hand. More so when he bit your lip. And now? Absolutely gone. His fingers working between your legs, calloused pads scraping your clit in a way that makes you want to scream in pleasure.

He’s been pulling you apart since you walked into this motel room. Piece by piece, brick by brick, stitching you up just so he could tear you apart in a different way. You think you could drown in that voice, fall apart in those big hands, get down on your knees and worship the big cock that jumps towards your palm when you reach for his crotch again.

He growls into your mouth, tongue spearing against yours, tasting of black coffee and something else so violently delicious your knees start to quake. You’re so far gone now, between the pet names and the big hands and the I wanna put my cock in you. You’re out of witty responses and daring quips.

When’s the last time somebody fucked you like you deserve, huh, sweetheart?

The answer? Far too fucking long.

He pulls his hand from between your legs abruptly. You almost whimper, but the noise is cut off when he releases your face, reaches both hands down to cup your ass, gripping your cheeks in an iron vice before they slip lower, grabbing your thighs and lifting you up and against him. Your hands scrabble for his shoulders, clawing at his t-shirt, pulling at the tight fabric. He’s wearing too many clothes; you need to explore what lies beneath.

Frank kisses like he’s trying to eat you alive, and you love it. You only come up for air when he drags his teeth along your jaw, nips at your earlobe, drags his stubbly cheek across your neck. “C’mon, princess,” he grumbles against your skin, and then he drops you, your back hitting the bed, body bouncing slightly on the mattress. His eyes rake across you, and he reaches for your knees, fingers curling around the backs and yanking you towards him, spreading your legs wide. “Words.”

His hands move down your thighs, thumbs pressing in deep as he goes, moving towards the heat pooling between your legs. You’re absolutely losing it. “Yes,” you finally moan out, chewing your lip furiously as he reaches the hinge of your thigh, lets one thumb reach out and swipe over your drenched core.

“Yes, what?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, you think, wanting to roll your eyes, to yell at him to just fuck you already. But you know this game, and judging from the twitching bulge in his pants, it’s a game Frank likes to play. “Yes, I want you to fuck me.”

His mouth splits into a grin and he rewards you for the admission, moving his whole hand to your pussy, dragging his fingers up and down, up and down. You keen into the touch, back arching off the mattress. “Mmm, yeah, good girl,” he grits out, and you feel him reach for the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin. “Gonna make you feel really fucking good, sweetheart. Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.” He snaps the band again and again, and you lift your hips, feeling him tear the scrap of fabric down your thighs.

Before you can even react, he’s on his knees, big hands curling around your hips and yanking you to the edge of the bed. There’s little ceremony, no build up, just his mouth sealing over your pussy, that big fucking nose grinding into your clit, lips sucking and tasting and sending white sparks across your vision. You reach down, grab his head in your hands, lock your fingers in the longer hair on top of his head. He groans against you when you pull hard, thrusting your hips up against his face and it sends a wave of vibrations rippling through you, your back arching harder.

That busted nose of his feels like heaven against your clit, the stubble on his chin grating just enough to bring you higher and higher, and he’s holding your hips so tight you’re sure you’ll have bruises shaped like his hands come morning, but you don’t fucking care. As long as he doesn’t fucking stop.

He’s rutting into the bed, eating your pussy with such vigour and enthusiasm that he’s moving you up the mattress, further and further until he’s half on it with you, knees pressing into the duvet while he pulls you up towards his mouth, your knees bent over his shoulders. He adjusts his grip, locking his arms around you completely, holding you to him.

When his tongue dips into your dripping heat, prodding the deepest parts of you, that’s when you lose it.

You try to shout as you cum, try to drawl his name, but no sound falls out of you. Especially when one of his arms comes loose around you, holding you in place with one bulging bicep, and his hand closes around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to notice, not enough to cut off your air. You can feel the strength that he’s withholding, what he’s using to hold your pussy to his face, but what he’s not wielding on you like a weapon.

I’m not killin’ you, sweetheart. Not tonight.

Can you die from the most intense orgasm of your life?

As soon as he pulls his tongue from you, he jams two fingers in, slamming your hips back onto the bed and covering your body with his own. His knees bracket your hips and then his mouth is on yours again, free hand curling around the side of your face, peering down between you as he thrusts his fingers in and out, thumb pressing hard on your clit. Still, you don’t have words, only heaving breaths and gasped moans that only climb higher when he finds that spongy spot deep inside, caressing it softly before he twists his wrist, scissoring his fingers wide.

“Where’s that smart mouth now, huh, baby girl?” he whispers, his mouth right by your ear. You can only moan, digging your hands into his shoulders as hard as you can, grabbing onto him like a lifeline. “Can’t talk, huh? That good?” He continues to move his fingers, rough and then soft, the quick changes nearly giving you whiplash. “Gotta warm you up first, sweetheart, so you can take this big fucking cock.”

You push your face into his thick neck as you cum a second time, the first one barely bled away before the second takes over. Your fingers and toes are static, limbs taut and limp at the same time, and you hook your arm around his neck, something between a moan and a sob bouncing off his skin. He curls his fingers up, pressing against that devastating spot, drawing the orgasm out longer, making you gush around his knuckles.

“Tha’s a good girl,” he grunts, turning his head to kiss your temple, the action softer than you’re expecting as he drags his fingers out of you. You watch, hazy-eyed, as he shoves his fingers between his lips one at a time, sucking the taste of you from them, and then he’s grabbing your face again, kissing you rough and passionate, his mouth tasting of your release, fingers spanning your jaw and cheek. 

He pulls back, eyes boring into yours, searching your face. Your chest heaves with breaths, eyes rolling back as he lowers his weight onto you more, making a home for himself between your thighs. Your can feel how hard he is, even behind his jeans, the rough material pressing against your sensitive core, making your hips stutter against him. 

“This what you needed, huh?” he asks, grinding into you slightly. “Baby needed somebody to shut her up, is that it? Somebody to give her what she needed.”

Somehow, you find it in you to nod, gripping him tighter, lifting yourself against him to chase his mouth, to kiss him as hard as he kissed you. He grunts, rolling over until he’s on his back and you’re astride him, hips still on his, knees pressing into he mattress. You can feel his cock straining against his zipper, jolting when you grind down on him, sensitive but still desperate for more.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, sliding your hands underneath. His muscles jump at your touch, and you can feel his eyes on your face, but yours are too busy watching the slow ride of his shirt up his stomach, caught on your wrists as you move higher and higher. You can feel the ridges of scars and the curves of muscle, dips and valleys you want to drag your tongue along. You push the shirt up his chest as high as the position will allow, and then drop your head, your mouth at his sternum.

You’ve never seen this much muscle on one man, thickly packed onto his body, a wild landscape for you to explore. And he’s so fucking broad, shoulders nearly twice as wide as your own, tapering down to well-cut hips, deep adonis lines that disappear beneath his belt, making your mouth water just thinking about what lurks below.

You can feel his heartbeat hammering against your lips, and one of his hands lifts to your head, running his fingers through your hair, pushing it back from your face. “What ya gonna do now, pretty baby?” he asks, his tone low and music to your ears. “Huh?”

Moving your hips back, you move your hands from his chest, lifting your head and dragging your mouth right down the middle of his body. He makes a pleased noise, letting your hair sift through his fingers until you’re out of reach. You sit up straight, hands reaching for his belt buckle, and you can feel those dark eyes still watching you, gaze hard and lust-blown, mouth twitching with a grin.

You shuffle back further, letting your feet hit the ground and planting your hands on his knees when yours threaten to give out. He’s just watching, reaching up to fold his hands behind his head. You reach for the button on his jeans, and his brow lifts. “Yeah? You want my cock, huh?”

Nodding, your pinch the zipper, pulling slowly, feeling the jump of his length towards your hand. Your hands are shaking, but you’re more sure of your footing now, and, surprising even yourself, grab the waist of his jeans and pull down hard, lifting his hips up and pulling his jeans and briefs down all in one shot. He grunts as you do, one hand flying for your shoulder, and then you drop your mouth to his stomach again, dragging your tongue along the ridge of his abs, unable to hold back the moan in your throat when his bare cock lifts against your chest, tip hitting your breasts, a smear of precum across your skin.

You go to move your head lower, to take him between your lips, but before you can, there’s a big hand around your jaw, jerking your head up, forcing your eyes on his. “You gotta ask nicely, babydoll,” he says, and swipes his thumb over your lips, dipping his fingertip between them for a moment. “I told ya, use your words.”

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. You can’t help the slightly bratty tone, but it gives way to desperation quicker than you mean to, dragging your hands down his sides, squeezing his hips and then his thighs. “Please, Frank.”

He smirks, giving you a slight nod. “Show me what you got, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and the way he tucks your hair behind your ear makes your stomach lurch, his hands settling at his sides, tapping softly against the duvet. A happy little moan escape you, and you lower your head again, uninterrupted this time.

He’s thick. Thicker than you imagined, a prominent vein running down the side, precum still beading at the tip. Neatly trimmed hair at the base, those deep-cut lines at his hips truly trailing to something magnificent. You knew he was packing the moment you laid eyes on him, but even you couldn’t have imagined this.

A sharp inhale reaches your ears as you close your lips around his tip, sucking lightly, experimentally. His palm lands at the crown of your head, fingers working along your scalp, and you do it again, waiting for the hitch in his breath.

It doesn’t come, and instead, he works most of your hair into his fist, tugging hard until your head lifts again. “Don’t wanna be teased, baby,” he grunts, eyes glued to the way your lips aren’t around his cock, but its resting against your mouth. “Not tonight.”

Frank keeps your hair in his fist, but the grip is more lax, giving you more room to move.

There’d been little ceremony or build-up before he’d buried his face in your pussy, and he said no teasing. So, you dive right in.

He groans loudly when you take him all the way, cock sliding past your lips and across your tongue, hitting the roof of your mouth while your hollow your cheeks and suck hard. The sound he makes is deep and guttural, sending a shock of heat through you as it bounces off the walls of the motel room. Part of you wonders if the neighbours can hear, a bigger part of you doesn’t care.

You curl your fingers around the base of him, bobbing your head, working against your gag reflex as best as you can. There’s a sliver of a tear in your eye, but you ignore it, swallowing him down, dragging your tongue along that thick vein. His hips jump when you do that, cock thrusting deeper, hitting the back of your throat and he groans again.

Then he starts talking.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he says, and it makes your eyes roll back, feeling his other hand move to your hair, both locking in your hair now. You let out a little moan around his cock, gripping his hip tightly in your free hand, digging your nails into his skin. You’re moving faster now, spurred on by his gravelly voice in your ears. “S’right, babydoll, you suck that cock so good, huh? That’s what you needed, big dick in your mouth to shut you up, make you feel good.” He sits up a little, getting a better grip on your head, stomach jumping against your forehead. “Does that turn you on, baby, huh? You like sucking that dick?”

With one hand still wrapped around him, your other drags down his leg, squeezing his knee before you’re slipping it between your legs, toying with your clit and moaning around his cock again. You go harder, faster, moving your head as fast as your muscles will allow, sucking him deep while the salty taste paints your tongue.

“Fuck me,” he grits. “Sweet little thing, sucking my cock like a champ.” One hand moves under your chin, and he pulls you off of him slowly, leaving you gasping for air, a string of spit connecting you to him. “Shit. C’mere.” He hauls you up, pulling you back onto the bed and into his lap, still gripping your chin, swiping this thumb through the spit on your lips before bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking his thumb clean. It makes everything in you clench. 

He grabs your face again, this time with both hands, and pulls your mouth to his. His tongue invades your mouth, licking into it, gathering you closer and closer until your chest is pressed against his. He gathers your hair into his fist again, mouth still on yours, and pulls at the neckline of your tank top, yanking it down, curving his fingers around the swell of your breast. You moan into his mouth, teeth knocking together before he moves his face to your chest, lips closing around your nipple, tongue dancing over it until its a hard peak.

Frank pulls back after a moment, looking up at you. “Gonna make me cum if you keep sucking me off like that,” he whispers, hands reaching for the hem of your tank top, pulling it up and over your head. Then he reaches for your wrists, moving your hands between the two of you. “Put my cock in you, baby. Want you to ride me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You nod, almost frantic, reaching down and curling your fingers around him again. His hands settle on your hips, angling you up. You whimper when his tip notches at your opening, and he lifts his head to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip. Then you sink down, slowly, slowly, slowly.

Even with your two wild orgasms and how worked up you are from sucking his cock, the stretch still burns. It rides that thin line between pleasure and pain, your jaw dropping open as you lower yourself, head dropping forward onto his shoulder. “Frank,” you manage to moan out, and his arms slide around you tight, holding you to him, keeping your hips pressed to his. Your clit is captive against the hard ridge of his stomach, and with every breath he takes, there’s a shock of pleasure through your system.

After a moment, the pain gives way completely to the pleasure, the stretch nothing more than blissful and you start to move. He adjusts his grip on you, one palm flat between your shoulder blades, other arm hooking around your waist. “That’s it,” he whispers as you start to roll your hips. “Good girl, baby.”

You wrap one arm around his neck, the other skimming the back of his head, the short hairs at his nape tickling your palm. He turns his head, kisses your cheek, drags his tongue up the side of your neck. He chases your hips with his own, fucking up into you, and the tip of his cock manages to find that spot, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your whole body, making you shake.

You must get tighter around him, because Frank groans, fingers scraping against your spine. “You gonna cum again, baby?” he croons, voice right at your ear, whispered but just as husky. “You gonna cum on this cock, huh?”

You go to groan out a yes, jaw hinging open, but before you can say anything, he’s tipping you back, wrenching himself out of you and tilting you sideways, laying you out on the bed. You whimper at the loss, but it’s not gone for long, Frank knocking your legs wide with his hand and covering your body with his own again, taking his cock in hand and guiding himself back into you. You keen up into his touch, sighing as he plants his elbows beside your head, caging you in.

“Wanna see your face, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down and just dragging his mouth over yours, capturing every little noise your make. “Wanna watch you lose it again.”

He starts to move again, and this way, this position, the pace is unrelenting, heavy and hard, filling the room with the sound of his skin hitting yours, the wet glide of his cock, and the quiet way he shushes you, moving one hand to cup your chin again, gripping tight enough to make you clench around him.

“Frank,” you moan again, and he just nods, that big nose dragging along yours, mouth dropping to capture your lips in a biting kiss.

It doesn’t take much more than that. A few more snaps of his hips, his hand moving from your chin to your throat, the muscle of his stomach catching on your clit, and you’re gone. It’s blinding, numbing, tingling, all of the above.

You’re somewhere in the clouds, your body completely in his control. He bites at your collarbone, his hips starting to stutter, and you know he’s close. You see his face go hard, brow pinching, and he pushes his head into your chest, biting at your breast as he keeps fucking into you, hands in your hair, sweetheart moaned into your skin.

He fucks into you hard, one final thrust that has your body sliding up the bed, legs locking around his to keep him close, keep him deep inside. You can feel the white-hot heat of him painting your insides, spurting out of him while his face stays buried in your chest. He pulls one hand from your hair, slams his fist against the mattress, as his chest starts to heave, deep breaths pushing his muscled torso against yours. You can feel every ridge and line of him, his cock twitching inside you, muscles jumping against your skin.

You’re expecting him to disappear, to roll off of you and hit the shower, leave you to clean up the mess he’s turned you into. But he doesn’t. He stays right where he is, between your legs, and after a moment, pulls his head up, adjust himself slightly, kisses you softly.

His hand reaches for your jaw again, but this time his grip is feather-light. His thumb drags across your chin, again and again, following the curve of your lower lip while his eyes trace over your face. “You really are something, sweetheart,” he whispers, and it puts a grin on your face, “you know that?”

“I do,” you throw back, smiling at him, reaching your hand to drag fingers up and down his back.

“Smart ass.”

+

Frank wakes the next morning to an empty motel room. Any and all trace of you is gone, your shotgun missing from the other bed, your mess of a coat picked up off the floor. You even cleaned your blood off the countertop.

But the sheets still smell like you, and if he thinks hard, he can feel the outline of you pressed against him, limbs tangled in his. He doesn’t have to think hard to remember how you felt underneath him, however, that obedient little thing he managed to turn you into, so good and so pretty and so perfect.

It makes his cock jump between his legs just thinking about it. About you.

He gets up slowly, gathers his things. Finds the gold card somewhere between his boots and his jeans, the stupid thing cracked down the middle. He picks it up, snaps it in two, tosses the pieces in the trash. 

When he goes to pack his kit, that’s when he sees it.

A cellphone, one of those cheap burner things you can buy at the gas station. It’s got one of those stupid dangly charms attached to it, cheap plastic shaped to look like angel’s wings. He smirks. Hell’s Angel.

And, hastily scrawled on shitty motel stationary, the pen ink barely legible, is a note from you.

hiya frank,

I can’t stay in new york, not with gold cards floating around with my name on ‘em.

hope you understand. last night was…bliss.

give me a call if you end up in chicago and you’re looking for round two

sweetheart xoxo

Frank just grins, shakes his head, and jams the phone into his pocket.

————

tagging: @saintmurd0ck @thesongof-thestars @moonlarking @grippingbeskar @itwasthereaminuteago

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle au #jon bernthal #the punisher #the punisher smut #my fics #head to head #the punisher au #sort of

[inversionimpulse]

On the subject of when Legends Z-A is set:

The previous Legends game was set firmly somewhere in the 19th century (this is still a point of confusion for people who don't know the real history that it's drawing from, but there is no real case for any other possibility), and 19th century Paris did undergo a significant urban renewal, so it's natural to assume that it's set then. The "document" part of the trailer fits with this aesthetic; a common trait of current futurism is the absence of paper.

On the other hand, the "simulation" portion of the trailer leans heavily on futuristic aesthetics. It also opens on one of those "zoom in to logo with arbitrary patterns in the background" sequences that are super common for fictional OS boot screens. The "document" part of the trailer does not contradict this; we have not stopped using paper and I doubt it'll happen soon.

I went through the trailer looking for anything distinctively belonging the past, present, or future and found nothing. Nothing that shouldn't have continued being in use to the modern day and nothing that clearly can't exist even in a loose fantasy version of the 19th century.

Two things stuck out to me, but they're not conclusive.

The minimalist, highlighted-contours aesthetic of the "simulation" makes it difficult to tell what kind of sign this is. The contours of the writing being outlined indicates that the writing sticks out from the sign in some way, which makes it read as a neon sign to me, but could as easily just be some fancier than normal woodwork.

This person appears to be weaing a baseball cap. Early baseball caps existed in the 19th century, but cursory research suggests that they weren't even popular among baseball players, much less the average person on the street. This person may just be an outlier, though, or I could be wrong, or Game Freak could simply be taking liberties.

Personally, ever since it was brought up by some now very discredited leakers, I've been attached to the idea of a Legends game set in the future, so I'm hopeful it's going for that angle, but I don't think I expect it.

#pokemon #pokemon legends #pokemon legends z-a #pokemon z-a #a queue in the dark beguiles me

[carrionsymptom]

Stalker!grabber just watching reader? Maybe in his pov?

TW: Stalking, The Grabber is his own warning

AN: I started writing a fic before I got this request in The Grabber’s POV and I need to finish it because I wasn’t sure if it was really something people were interested in haha. Soundabouts (what we now call Walkmans) technically came to America in 1980 but you know creative liberties.

GN reader, no physical descriptions

What they say about feeling eyes watching you? It’s not true. Take it from me, the unsettling crawl you get is mere coincidence. After all, I’m sure you would have noticed by now how often I like to watch you if the saying were true. I notice all the little things, of course, but that doesn’t mean you do.

It’s a blessing how oblivious people can be these days. Your sneakers are battered and frayed, your jeans are just out of fashion, but the headphones over your ears and the little box are brand new. You have that cute little cassette player that came out this year, the Soundabout I think. It’s dangerous. You have those headphones over your ears all the time, what if some creep came up behind you? You’d be none the wiser, blasting whatever top 50 tape is popular at the moment. The comfort of your favorite bands outweigh the fear of walking around alone. I’d warn you of the dangers, but of course that would make my little hobby more difficult. 

So I let you go about your quaint little life, strolling down the street so unaware, living your life unconcerned about your safety. You bike to work at Ellison Grab-N-Go, serving the brats that frequent the store with a smile. I can’t fathom how you can tolerate them. That boy, Vincent, was a frequent customer there. I saw you tack up a missing poster in the window (the only one hung up at all); you’re caring, I’ll give you that. Where others assumed Vincent had skipped town, you knew that he wasn’t that kind of boy. It’s heartbreaking, really, the irony of it all. I almost wanted to go in there and tell you the bad news that he wouldn’t be found any time soon, but of course I couldn’t let you know my secret.

By the time your shift ends, it’s dark out. I don’t have the time to watch you nonstop, but I always make the trip to see you back to your home. Who knows what kind of monster is lurking in the dark? You bike home too, and I follow you from a distance in my van. The rumble of the engine, and the squeak of the wheels are unheard as you continue to blast your music in your ears.

Sometimes I think about what you would do if you did notice me. Would you confront me? No, that’s not likely. You’re too good for that. You’d probably run to the nearest house to dial up the police immediately, eyes wide and staring into mine. You wouldn’t be able to break eye contact, too scared to blink as if I’d manifest even closer in the milliseconds you can’t see me. 

And what would I do? Run, probably, but the idea of approaching makes goosebumps pimple my arms. I’d try to coax you down from your panic. See? I’m harmless. I wouldn’t hurt you, no. Don’t worry. Convince you not to run, gentle, gentle. I’d tell you my name, as plain as it is, and you’d tell me yours and then you’d forget all about phoning the police because what would you tell them? I’m harmless, what’s the point?

It’s one of those nights. Ellison is open 24/7, but you only work day shifts Tuesday through Saturday. I know it’s nearing the end of your shift, just a quick half-hour to go and you’ll be out, but I’m here on business, not on pleasure. Normally I’d head over to an actual grocery store to do my food shopping, but for something as simple as a case of beer Ellison’ll work great.

The fluorescent open sign hums amidst the silent night, bright and colorful. I can already see you standing at the register, stocking up on gum or cigarettes behind you. A metal bell chimes above my head, and you twist to greet me and I know for sure then that you have absolutely no idea how much I know of you. If you did you wouldn’t wear that big, bright smile for old me. Your headphones hang lazily around your neck and I can hear the music blasting from them. You shouldn’t play it that loud, you’ll burst an eardrum. I don’t say that, of course, only parsing my lips in a half smile-half grimace as I make my way to the refrigerators lining the far wall. 

I don’t really care what I pick up; any old six pack will do, it’s not like either Max or I give a real shit what we put into our bodies, and before you know it I’m hauling the bottles up to the counter. 

You glance at the bottles, then up to me, then you fucking ask to see my ID. I guffaw loud, because Jesus, I know I don’t look under 21. You flush, and stammer to apologize all “I’m sorry sir. It’s a habit sir.” And I let you, crossing my arms and basking in your embarrassment. 

“It’s fine,” I tell you. “Get it all the time.” I wink and slide my ID and cash across the counter, if just to tease you a little more. 1928. You stutter even more and it’s so fucking cute, but I wave you off. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

You hand me my change, and murmur: “Sorry again, Mr. Shaw.”

#the grabber x reader #the black phone #the grabber #the black phone x reader

[talesofourworlds]

@ofstarsandskies The wheel of fate chose... Magilou for your starter!

Another day, another round of taking on the Abbey in the name of Velvet's revenge. Magilou was used to how things worked by then. After all, she had her own reasons for sticking around the one the people had begun calling a Lord of Calamity. She already had Bienfu back, and was making sure the little Normin knew his place all over again, but the chance to deal with Melchior was oh too pleasing to pass up.

Their return to Loegres for the day, unfortunately, had naught to do with her own personal gain. It just happened to be the easiest city to access in the name of resupplying before hitting the open ocean again. All in the name of therion hunting, she supposed. However, after the last therion they had tracked down had turned out to be a bust in the form of a cursed urn from the ocean, she wasn't sure what they were hoping to gain. Laphicet seemed certain their next goal was somewhere in the direction of Taliesin, though. The sooner they headed there, the sooner things could get interesting again. Or so Magilou thought, anyway. Since everyone else was occupied with gathering supplies, she took to the streets.

Truth be told, she thought things seemed much more quiet in town than they ought to have. For a place that was essentially Abbey headquarters, she would have thought they would be on more of a high alert. Or was it, perhaps, that they were otherwise occupied in trying to get their other therions up to snuff? They were trying to awaken Innominat, after all. Busy stuff, right there.

"Shouldn't we be sticking closer to the others, Miss Magilou?" Bienfu's voice brought Magilou out of her thoughts. She shook her head.

"Nah. Velvet's a big girl. She can handle herself without little old me hanging around while she shops. Besides!" Magilou twirled as she walked. "Anything's better than hanging around while Rokurou tries to haggle for better wea-"

Crash! Magilou backed right into a man in his twenties without even realizing. She let out a yell of surprise before tumbling to the ground.

"Ow!"

"What in the world just happened?? How could this happen to the great witch Magilou?" Magilou didn't expect an answer, but she did look up to see who she'd actually rammed into. A man who couldn't have been all that much older than Velvet, she realized, with white hair. A rather unique individual. A local of Loegres? She wondered.

And what would he have to say for himself in response to colliding with her?

#ic #ofstarsandskies #Following Our Paths #SLAM DUNKS INTO YOUR BERSERIA VERSE #A Witch Never Reveals Her Secrets (Magilou)

[traveleroffarawayplaces]

My LU incorrect quotes part 1!

Main navigation center

Part 2

Linked Universe (LU)/other LU inspired things:

Post-Lu Wind in War of Eras

Wind can't play chess

Four is not a kid!

Wind's gliding with a leaf

Four during Sunset pt 7-9 & 11.

Dink better not have killed Twilight, Wild's mad!

(Also four swords adventures, or fsa) Four should of left Shadow on the street

The Swear outline of the LU cast.

Wild you should know better then to trust Hyrule

Wild and Hyrule learn about the source of life

Uh oh! Wild broke another sword!

Sky and Four isn't pleased the master sword's broken Wild...

What is Legend allergic to?

Hyrule is wondering why life’s difficult Legend!

(Modern au) Its a true or false question!!

When Wild has the braincell

Yeah, seriously Wind, HOW did you even walk?!

Legend is after you Hylia. You’re next…

Yeah thats fair Wild.

Legend, Ravio is sorry for the intrusion…

Seriously, what is 5 x 2 ??

Wild, we know fire is fascinating, but come on!

Legend can’t take a break in Hyrule!

Twilight’s so proud of you Four!!

Yeah we’ve had worse.

Time and Four, chaos gremlins. Oh and Hyrule, the smart man.

Wild will always come up with crazier plans Four.

Modern au: You can get water.

Modern au: When will Ted.. finally appear?

Sky just wanted you guys to take him up later!!

Don’t insult Four’s height.

How are you so positive??? We’re being sacrificed!

Now thats unpeelable!

Legend, philosophy isn’t a wea- oop that sword definitely is a weapon!

(Kind of modern au) This is how little Legend cares

Red and Wild woke up and chose violence

(Modern au) Legend, don't say that to the customers!

(Modern au) Prepare yourselves McDonalds.

That’s hypothermia Warriors.

DANG IT WILD- sorry habit…

(Kinda modern au)You take that back Legend-

#navigation #My incorrect quotes -Kit #correctn't quotes of kit #lu incorrect quotes #linked universe #lu #linked universe incorrect quotes

[fate-motif]

listen i know. i know. it’s because i’m an adult and i know about gay history and to perfectly ordinary straight people, when jankom pog has a holoprogram where he beats up leather-weaing tellarite biker hunks in an alley it’s just street fighter references

but are we just gonna gloss over the fact that in his spare time jankom pog beats up and gets beat up by leather-wearing tellarite biker hunks in an alley and am i the only one picking up implications from what they put down

#star trek #pro #pro spoilers #star trek prodigy #jankom pog #fandom #i understand why people queercode when they do #but GOD i hate queercoding precisely because it’s so easy to disavow when convenient #this despite the fact that it’s important that it be easy to disavow!!! #otherwise consequences come down!!! #BUT ALSO

[maswartz]

Rebirth of the Ninja Turtles

My concept for a new TMNT cartoon taking pieces from various continuities. Plot: Long ago in Japan a ninja and his children are about to be executed by their enemy when the man vows that even if it takes lifetimes this day will be avenged. Centuries later in New York a truck carrying a strange mutagenic compound crashes into a pet store spilling the chemical on the animals within as well as many others near by. Mutated by the substance a rat and six turtles flee into the sewers as memories of their past lives return. Teaching his children the art of ninja once more the rat, now calling himself Splinter names them after various artists. Years later they learn the man who ordered their execution has been reborn as the Shredder, leader of the Foot Clan of ninja. Splinter makes it their mission to stop him and complete the vow he made centuries ago. Heroes: Splinter- Once the ninja known as Hamato Yoshi he has been reborn as a rat. He is initially horrified at his new form but takes it as a lesson to remain humble as he remembers his past arrogance. In time he must decide what matters most, the love of his children or his desire for revenge. He represents the element of wood and uses a staff or a katana in battle. Leonardo- The eldest turtle and the one who takes after their father the most. He is strict and serious in combat and training but relaxed and friendly outside of it. He is the most dedicated to their mission of stopping the Shredder. He is skilled at numerous weapons. He represents the element of air and is armed with twin ninjaken, a smaller dagger and a bow and arrow. He wears a blue bandana. Raphael- Physically the strongest of the Turtles he hates to see people bullied by those stronger than them. He’ll often go out on his own and look for trouble. During one of these solo trips he met Casey Jones and the two became friends, after beating the stuffing out of each other first. He is skilled at demolition and the use of explosives. He represents the element of fire and is armed with twin sai, tonfa and a series of small bombs. He wears a red bandana. Artemisia- Out of all of the Turtles she is the most bitter about having to remain hidden from humanity, questioning why they protect people who would turn on them if they knew the truth. She is the most brutal in battle often seeking to end a threat permanently only for her brothers to talk her out of it. She represents the element of metal and is armed with twin arm claws and a set of kunai. She wears a yellow bandana. Donatello- The smartest of the Turtles he adapted the fastest to modern technology. He builds all the gear for the Turtles including multiple modified vehicles and numerous weapons. He is skilled at gathering information electronically without a trace. He represents the element of earth and is armed with a metallic bo staff with a hidden blade inside. He wears a purple bandana. Venus- The most spiritual of the Turtles she is a pacifist who studies chi. She uses her knowledge to provide medical assistance to her siblings when needed. If she is forced to fight she can use her knowledge of pressure points to take down foes without harming them. She represents the element of lightning and when she must join the fight she is armed with a rope dart. She wears a light green bandana. Michelangelo- The youngest of the Turtles he is the most joyful and friendly of the Turtles. He also questions their mission the most wondering why they can’t just enjoy the new life they were given instead of being forced to follow a vow they themselves didn’t make. He is skilled in the art of disguise and can disguise himself so well even his own brothers cannot tell though his sisters can see right through them. He uses this to blend in with groups and gather information from the streets as well as establish a group of friends and contacts. He represents the element of water and is armed with twin nunjacku, a grappling hook and a manriki-gusari. He wears an orange bandana. Allies: April O’Neil- When young she witnessed the truck crash into the pet store and even saw the Turtles and Splinter through the smoke. However nobody believed her and the incident was covered up. She dedicated her life since then to proving the truth of that day and has tracked down stories of mutants with her friend Irma. Eventually she is rescued by the Turtles and befriends them, becoming their strongest link to the outside world. Casey Jones- Formerly a cop Casey quit the force after witnessing one too many cops get away with abusing their power. He becomes a vigilante who protects those the law ignores. He uses sports equipment in combat. He met Raphael and became quick friends with the Turtle after a fight. He often backs up the Turtles on missions when he isn’t busy protecting the homeless. His favorite weapon is a baseball bat. Porkchop- A butcher mutated by the chemical into a pig man. He runs an underground kitchen to feed the homeless and vulnerable. Though he loathes violence he will not hesitate to protect those within his kitchen. Hippo Houdini- A street magician mutated by the chemicals into a hippo man. He entertains people by pretending to be in a costume. When he was revealed as a mutant he surprisingly gained more attention and set out to use the spotlight to highlight mutant rights.

Leatherhead- A kind fisher who was mutated into a humanoid alligator. He uses his newfound strength to defend people while trying to make a living selling the fish he catches.

Mondo Gecko- A street artist mutated into a lizard man. He is friends with Mikey and uses his art to leave messages for his bro.

Alopex- A mutated fox woman who often joins forces with Raph to stop those who would exploit mutants. Nightowl- A night watchman mutated into an owl man. He keeps an eye on trouble at night and acts as a contact for the Turtles. Todd- A therapist mutated into a capybara who helps the Turtles after particularly stressful missions. Chamoleon- A mutated chameleon who operates a social media site for mutants to contact each other. She reaches out to Donnie to respond to any calls for help she finds. Rahzar and Tokka- A mutated wolf and snapping turtle respectively. They protect an area in Central Park from all those who would do the innocent harm. And others... Enemies: Shredder- The ancient ninja reborn. In this lifetime he took control of the Foot Clan by force and turned it into an international crime syndicate. When he finds out Splinter and his children have returned he makes it his mission to kill them once more. Bebop and Rocksteady- A pair of goons mutated by Shredder to act as enforcers. Dogpound and Fishface- A washed up martial artist and a hitman mutated by Shredder to add to his forces. Mama Long Legs- A woman who runs an underground fighting ring, mutated into a spider woman she now forces mutants to fight for the amusement of others while keeping her own mutation hidden. Groundchuck and Dirtbag- A pair of bank robbers who accidentally steal some mutagen and expose themselves while hiding on a farm. Crabgrass- An environmentalist mutated into a crab plant hybrid who seeks to claim the world for plants.  Old Hob- Leader of a mutant mob who run a protection racket. Aided by his right hand man Repo Mantis Tora- A bounty hunter who mutated himself into a tiger man to gain enhanced strength and senses. SpiderBitez- A shock jock mutated into a spider. He'll stop at nothing to regain his fame even if it means capturing audiences to force them to listen to his show. Baxter Stockman- A scientist who believes in human superiority. Will do whatever it takes to rid the world of “genetic abominations” And others... Other: Karai- A mysterious ninja of unknown loyalty. She accuses both Splinter and Shredder of violating the honor of the Foot Clan and wages war on them both. She is joined by Koya, a mutated falcon and Zodi a mutated scorpion. Rak- A mutated racoon who acts as a master thief with his own set of rules. Sometimes he’ll aid the Turtles if he can spin it to his advantage otherwise he’s content to take what he’s after and leave.

Slash- A mutated turtle who was found by some criminals who tricked him into using his strength to help commit crimes. Outraged when he learned of the betrayal he grew bitter towards all mankind and seeks to be left alone. Shard- A mutated cat who sometimes aids the Turtles from the shadows. The reincarnation of Splinter’s wife and the Turtle’s mother.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles

[urbanthreads]

Style guide for streetwear vs casual wear.

#streetwear #street wear #hip hop style #hiphop fashion #casualwear #casual wear #Style guide #hip hop fashion

[oh-lacy]

ALL TOO WELLLL OMG SPEECH ?????? SPEAK NOW TV WHEN ????? YOU INVENTED RED MS TAYLOR OFC WE KNOW WHAT UR TALKING ABOUT !! WAIT IS SHE GONNA PLAY NOTHING NEW? probably not lmao SHE SO CUTE I WALKED THROUGH THE DOOOORRRR WITH YOUUUUUTHE AIR WAS WCOLD BUT SOMETHING BOUT IT FELT LIKE HOME SOMEHWO AND III LEFT MY SCARF THER SISTERHOUS AND YOUVEEE STILL GOT ITT IN YOUR DRAWE EVEN NOWW OMG SLAY INSTRUMENTALS SLAYY OH YOUR SWEET SDIPSOITION AN DMHY WIDE YED GAYS GETIGN LOSUPSTATE AUTUMN LEAVES FLALING ODWN AFTER ALL THESE DAYS CAUSE THERE WEA GAIN ON THE THAT LITTL EOTWN STREET WIND IN MY HIAR ALL TOO WELLLLLL AND YOU WERE TOSSING MY THE CAR KEYS !!!!!! FUCK THE PATRIARCHY !!!!!!