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badgerbl00d · 8 months

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captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days.

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now. A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient.

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians.

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head. An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.”

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back.

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off.

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright.

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well.

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards.

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message.

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?”

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath.

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance.

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never.

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped.

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love.

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned.

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough.

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks.

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said.

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

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thejujvtsupost · 4 months

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Collar Crimes -> Torn Knuckles

So we’re back with some more mob Geto, this was heavily requested but I never got around to adding more to the series. So to everyone who requested it: ta-da!

Notes: F!reader, yakuza!Geto, casual violence, blood, Geto has tattoos, fluffy, pet names - bunny, reader is a sleepy type of gf & soft girl- think Sanrio/hello kitty aesthetic? Wound care and first aid.

The sound of Geto’s fist connecting with its target echoed through the warehouse. “I don’t take half of anything, I take what belongs to me. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Hiro was a nuisance, interacting with him just wasn’t worth the trouble any longer. The fact that he was called to the warehouse in the first place had him pissed off. The exchange between Hiro and his men was supposed to be a smooth one, yet he was required to handle things himself. Apparently Hiro thought attempting to kill one of his men for leverage was a good idea.

“I’m just asking for 15%, no 20% and I’ll carry out the rest of the deal for you!” Suguru couldn’t deny that he had balls, Hiro was already beaten bloody, missing a few teeth and still trying to negotiate. Shouldn’t the broken ribs be enough to shut him up?

Suguru’s expression and tone screamed danger when he bent to Hiro’s level to get in his face. “You have three seconds to get out of my sight or I’ll kill you. Pull any funny shit again, if you even breathe wrong; I’ll kill you. Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness or tolerance.” His hand was starting to throb from where his fist made contact with the idiot’s face. He sighed and didn’t bother to hide his irritation.

Hiro let out a whimper and scurried away, leaving Geto with Yuta and Choso. “Clean up the blood, I’m going home.” He left no room to argue- not that they’d try.

You had just gotten in the warm tub when you heard Suguru call your name. College was taxing and today was especially rough with your double lecture. Soaking in the giant tub with a bath bomb and bubbles was a good way to relax.

“In here!”

Suguru entered and greeted you with a smile before leaning over to kiss you. “Hi bunny.”

You felt sad upon seeing his hand on the edge of the tub, “You’re hurt?”

“It’s nothin’ to worry about, got room for me in there?” He stripped his suit off and briefly washed his hands despite the sting against his wounds.

You hummed and slid forward to create space, “I’ll take a look at it once we’re done.” He kissed your nape and pulled you back against his chest when he was settled.

“How was my girl’s day? You seem stressed.” It’d be dumb to think he didn’t notice your mood right away. He paid genuine attention to you, your feelings and your needs. Suguru knew you better than anyone. Everyone.

You groaned and leaned your head back to rest on him, “I had my double biology lecture today with my professor that never takes late work. I submitted my paper a minute past midnight the other day and I swear he was glaring at me. It was ONE minute, what difference does it make? He already took five points off automatically for the late submission so why am I getting the stink eye? I’ve already been penalized! He’s a hard grader too, there’s stuff I thought I understood but got wrong on the midterm and now I’m not up to my standard grade.”

The temptation to take care of, in one way or another, the professor giving you trouble was strong, but his absence of teaching would probably stress you out more. “I’m sorry bun, only a few weeks left and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders for extra comfort.

“It just sucks, I hate being a disappointment.”

“You’re never a disappointment, never. The guy obviously has a stick up his ass and takes it out on his students. You’re such a smarty pants, your grades are excellent. One professor in the grand scheme of things won’t matter.”

You didn’t realize how tired and tense you were until he reassured you. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes, thank you.” You turned your head and kissed him softly.

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

You shook your head and he frowned, it was pretty late and you hadn’t eaten. “Was waiting for you, and I couldn’t decide. I wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

“How about we get something delivered? You need to eat whether I’m home or not, it’s important.”

You curled in on yourself the slightest bit, “I know… I just really miss you sometimes and I like when we eat together. Can we have curry?”

“Curry it is then. C’mon let me get out first.”

Suguru stood up, got out of the tub and dried off before he assisted you and toweled you off himself. Your soft and fluffy robe was held out for you, which he also took the liberty of tying.

“Let me see your hand, your knuckles are all torn up.” Your face clearly showed your concern. He loved that about you, how you had your heart on your sleeve.

It only took a few minutes, but you took care in applying ointment and wrapping his knuckles so they would heal. You finished your job with a kiss over his hand and he’d never admit it but the action made him blush. He had no choice but to hug you immediately in thanks so you wouldn’t notice.

(You noticed. You thought it was cute.)

“Thank you bunny, you’re always a great little nurse. So, curry?”

“Yes please.” You nodded your head and followed him into the living room.

He called you the nurse but in your eyes, he took care of you way better than you could take care of him.

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#collar crimes series #yakuza! Geto #reader insert #no use of y/n #f reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk fluff #mob Geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #send an ask for requests

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colubrina · 11 months

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what does querying mean

Ah! OK. I forget that normal people don't know what this process entails.

So, if you want to be "trad" published (which basically means the kind of published that gets your book into bookstores) you will probably need a literary agent. Some small presses do not require that writers submit books for consideration through an agent, but pretty much every book you've ever heard of went through both a literary agent and a publisher that requires authors use them. So, how do you get a literary agent? You send a very specialized letter called a 'query letter', often with the first few pages of your novel, for them to read and decide if they want to 'represent' it, which means try to sell it for you in exchange for a 15% commission. The query letter I used for the 6th book I queried was this...

Dear [agent],

NO GOOD WITCHES is a 90,000-word YA speculative that will appeal to readers of A Deadly Education and Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It’s a ‘girl goes evil and gets shit done while awe-stuck boy holds her purse so she can do the murders’ kind of book with popular tropes including found family, female friendship, dark academia, morally grey characters, power corrupts, and a romance where the boy is bad but the girl is worse (you could save him, I could make him worse; we are not the same).

Seventeen-year-old Calla watches the witch burnings on television along with everyone else in the United States. Witches can move things with their minds. They know what people are thinking. They’re terrifying, and dangerous, and the shows are a nationwide reminder that witches will not be tolerated. Her friends have never suspected Calla is one, and she needs to keep it that way. But when she answers a question before it’s asked in a history class, her future goes up in flames. She can read minds. She’s evil. Game over.

Caught and terrified, Calla is surprised when she isn’t dragged to a pyre, but to a hospital where she’s poked and prodded to find out how powerful she is. Turns out, good witches—compliant witches—don’t get sent to the stake. They get trained in hidden schools and sharpened into weapons. Their ability to manipulate matter powers the electrical plants and their mindreading gets used by the diplomatic corp. Calla doesn’t feel like getting burned alive, so she learns everything she can.

Including how she—and her new witch friends—can burn the system down rather than let powerful men exploit their magic.

By the time she’s done, there won’t be a single good witch left.

I was mentored in both the Pitch Wars and Author Mentor Match programs, and I was previously represented but my agent and I have amicably parted ways and this manuscript has never been on submission. I live in Connecticut with cats, my family, and some unhappy plants. I am not a witch.

Thank you,

Collie

I sent 69 versions of this query out, 2 of which were referrals (meaning a current client of the agent recommended me)

17 times the agent ghosted my query.

43 times the agent rejected at the query stage

7 times the agent requested more materials. (This is about a 10% request rate and is not great but not terrible either.)

2 times the agent ghosted the requested materials

3 times the agent rejected the additional materials

Once the agent offered me what's called a "revise and resubmit" where she sent some detailed edits I could do and then she would reconsider whether she wanted to rep it. I disagreed pretty strenuously with one of her suggestions (she wanted me to cut the romance) and so I didn't pursue it.

The whole process is tedious and unfun and pretty much necessary if you want your book to be in, say, Barnes and Noble. I do not enjoy it. I am going to do it for the seventh time starting this fall. Maybe I'll do a 'querying diary' the way I do a log of what I've written. That would be fun.

Ask me anything about querying. I am a bona fide expert on this.

#querying #500

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

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Teach me, Mommy

Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Warnings: Jealousy.

Smut: Subby Nat. Mommy (R), Good Girl/Baby (N), “BJ,” Strap (N), Choking, Punishment (Spanking).

18+ | Minors DNI

The echo of heels clicking against the polished linoleum of the large lecture hall caused your gaze to lift from the paperwork on your desk, giving you a chance to ogle your professor as she made her way over to the desk at the front.

The woman looked positively delectable in her red v neck blouse, layered beneath a form fit black suit jacket, and tucked into the front of her matching pencil skirt that fell at her knees.

——

Professor Romanoff, was a gorgeous force to be reckoned with, and when she dressed like this—for you, truth be told, you so wanted to play.

The need to control in her daily life made sense, she was a women leading the science department at a fairly prestigious university. In public she needed to commandeer respect, and she surely did just that, the men she worked over seemed to hold a healthy fear of her.

Once you saw her publicly putting Mr. Stark in his place, you got to see the usually smug man turn as pale as a ghost, so stunned in fact that Mr. Banner had to drag him away from the she devil stood in those calf defining black stilettos. The way she smirked as she turned around is what initially drew you to her. Because beneath those eyes dripping with power you saw the precious angel ready to be taken care of.

Everyone else on campus was afraid of her too. She held her head high, and ran a tight ship. Lessons started at 8am, her doors were locked the moment the digital clock hit said time. The homework was tedious, and unlike your other courses it actually required critical thinking. Quizzes took place every Friday, based off study guides that left your brain scrambling.

Even with the heavy workload, she didn't have the same hold over you that she did others. Natasha, as you know her, loved the way she could command a room's attention, but what she loved even more was having all of yours.

Natasha has always been in control, ever since she was little, and had to help raise Yelena. Fighting with just about anyone who got in her way of ensuring her sisters safety and future, so it makes sense that would bleed into her now.

But it didn't reflect her deep desires though.

The truth was she lived to be dominated, to be put in her place when she's stepped out of line, and with you she found herself submitting with ease. Handing you her body without any fight, and she plans to do so for as long as forever.

Natasha could feel your eyes on her, just as she wanted it, as she set up the board for the quiz on genetics. She drew a mock punnet square, because even with as strict as she was, she was not above offering the occasional cheat code.

When she spun around she offered the class a tight lipped smile that fell away when she saw one of your classmates hands on your bicep. "Miss Maximoff, if you don't mind, we have a quiz to start and that requires you be seated."

"Sorry Miss Romanoff," Wanda skittishly rushed away to her desk in the back and you quirked your brow at the professor who only met your gaze with one that dripped danger.

Natasha wasn't one to share, and she wasn't about to start today. As she walked around the class passing out the quizzes she made sure to sway her hips just as she passed by your desk. You quietly chuckled at her show of possession, as if she had anything to worry about, you already claimed her as yours years ago, it's why she had your initials tattooed on her wrist besides a heart made with the intricate grooves of your thumbs. You're hers too, the mark of her soft lips on your ribcage your chosen tie.

The exam was honestly a breeze for you, but for the sake of your cover remaining intact you'd pretended to struggle so you could be the last one seated as students slowly filed on out.

"Y/N, you're my best student, stop pretending that you're still working," Natasha challenged from her desk, the last student left fifteen minutes ago, clearly you were just taunting her.

"I don't know Miss. Romanoff, this exam is really hard," you relayed with a feigned sense of concern, "I sure hope I don't fail and have to retake this course, that would be a bummer."

Natasha rolled her eyes as you placed your test down on her desk, which she realized was a bad idea as you gripped her chin and tilted her head backwards until she was looking at you. "Careful with the attitude pretty girl, you don't want to go pissing mommy off now, do you?"

Natasha shook her head, "I'm sorry mommy," she latched on to your thumb, her tongue ran over the ridges of your skin, then she began to lightly suck as she gazed up at you sweetly. You smirked before looking up at the ticking clock, "You have just enough time to suck me off."

Natasha hummed around your thumb, you could see the way her eyes genuinely lit up at the prospect, and you chuckled as she danced then shimmied out of her seat to her knees. While maintaining eye contact you slipped your digit from her mouth and with the pad of your thumb you spread saliva all over her lips to assist her in her plans to suck you off.

The redhead looked up at you, she sat prettily, and the restraint you witnessed her showing was endearing. She knew better than to touch without guidance, "Good girl," you coo'd as you slid your shorts down to your ankles, then went your boxers and out popped your black strap.

"Follow me baby," you said as you stepped around her to take your place in her chair, you settled a hand on your strap and began to stroke the silicone as Natasha crawled over, "Hurry up baby, your next class starts in fifteen minutes, and I'm not leaving until I cum."

Natasha slackened her jaw, leaving her mouth agape so you could do as you pleased with her. After a few teasing moments of hovering over her you finally pushed the tip beyond her lips. The eager woman took initiative from there and began to bob her head aggressively while her hand applied dizzying pressure to the base.

"There you go baby," you softly growled as the pleasure started to flow throughout your body, your hand now tangled into her hair as you aided her in taking even more of you down her throat to the point that she was gagging.

"Mm, mm, fuck Tash, you're just so good for me," your hips were now thrusting wildly, "Mommy's good girl, fuck, take it all baby."

Natasha's nose met your stomach, the fact that she'd managed to take all of you is what threw you over the edge, the coil within you snapped, and in a controlled manner you moaned out her well deserved praises, "Good girl."

Natasha stared in relative awe as your slick dripped down the front of her desk chair as you stood up. You weren't opposed to chasing your own pleasure, but truth be told you preferred to make the redhead cry out for you, so after a moment tailored for you you tended to brush passed it, so it wasn't a shock you'd already redressed before her breath was back in sync.

"I'll see you in a few hours Miss. Romanoff," you said as you collected her ungraded papers, along with her office keys, "Five minutes," you added with a wink before you were gone.

"Ty budesh' moyey smert'yu," Natasha cursed under her breath, then as per usual, she was up and in order before the students traipsed on in.

(You will be the death of me.)

—

Natasha groaned in relief as the bell rang, you left her in quite the state, and unfortunately she had to sit through two more lectures before there was any promise of relief. Which is why she was on the verge of tears when she entered her office to find only stacks of graded papers.

"For fucks sake," she huffed with her face now in her hands, her bag that was haphazardly thrown in a moment of frustration hit the ground loud enough to conceal your entrance.

"Now, now," you pressed your body into hers from behind, your smirk wide as she tensed, "Tell me baby, is that how a respected woman speaks when she doesn't get what she wants?"

"No m-mommy, but I," she went to defend herself, but you stopped her with a finger to her lips that slid down until you were wrapping your hand around her throat. Natasha was actually grateful, because she had no excuse.

"It's inexcusable Natalia," you reminded her, "Just because you're needy doesn't mean you get to be bitchy," you sneered as you reached forward to clear her desk of her belongings.

You spun her around so she could face you as you spoke, "I was trying to do something nice for you," with a slow, calculated thrust you let the redhead feel the bulge in your shorts, it was sizably bigger than the one she sucked earlier, her eyes widened, and so did your cocky grin.

"I-is that?" Natasha gulped when you nodded, feeling her throat pulse beneath your palm was an incredibly arousing feeling, "What a shame too, mommy was gonna breed her special girl, so I left to change, but now I'm not so sure..."

"No, please, I'm sorry mommy," you cut her off before she could continue pleading, with your tight grip on her throat you tugged her forward until your lips were only millimeters apart, she could taste your breath and instinctually she tried to close the gap, but you stepped back and softly tsk'd as she whined, "Who's in charge?"

"Mommy is..."

"Exactly baby, so if you want something you..." you looked to her with so much confidence that she felt like this was almost a mirror to the lie of who she outwardly is to the world, "Ask."

"Can I have a kiss please?" Natasha whispered, she felt a brief moment of embarrassment, but then all she felt was warmth as you smiled at her, when she felt your hands firmly back on her hips she felt safe, and with your lips finally on hers she truly felt whole. "There she is."

The deceivingly soft kiss melded into a heady entanglement in only a matter of seconds. Natasha melted into you, becoming a pliant body for you to mold to your every whim, you didn't act right away though, you loved to keep her in this constant state of neediness, one she had never felt before with another person.

As your tongue slid over hers, and your hands roamed her body she was becoming quite the whimpering mess that you needed to tend to. Her hips canted against the air with a violent need, so you reluctantly pulled away, and even if she wanted more, part of her didn't want the kiss to end so she gripped your shirt collar.

"Baby," you warned softly, "If you want mommy to help with the mess in your panties then you need to bend over for me, but if you want to kiss then we can do that instead..."

Natasha relinquished her hold instantly, "No," you smiled and pecked her lips, "Over the desk then baby, give mommy her prettiest view."

Once the redhead settled her front against her hardwood desk, with her skirt perfectly bunched up at her hips she sighed dreamily. The poor girl thought she was going to just get a pass to what she wanted with no need for a punishment for her behavior, but as your hand began to knead the flesh of her ass she knew.

"Hmm, how many we thinking baby?"

"Five," she offered and you cackled, "Hilarious, how about 20? One for each question on your chapter 'quiz' since you are just so reasonable."

"Heyyyy, I'm just trying to give everyone a well rounded—," she was cut off with a shriek as your hand made brutal contact with her skin, “Your excuses are null and void, quiet down.”

Natasha took her punishment like a champ, every slap against her increasingly reddening cheeks a reminder that you're always watching. The only thing that taints this was she was a bit of an adrenaline junkie so she pushed back into your hand near the end, "Harder mommy..."

So, for her unconscious disobedience you added five more without a word, each one was surprisingly harsher than the other, and for the last one you rerouted to her cunt, so by the end the woman was sobbing, as she should be.

"What do we say?" You asked as you softly massaged her backside, "Thank you mommy."

"You're welcome," you leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, then you awkwardly tilted her head up, you pressed another to her lips as you slid your strap into her slicked hole. The redhead appreciated the way you muffled her screams, she was always very vocal whenever you entered her, so you knew what to do. You always did, she loved your considerate nature.

As you pounded into her you realized that she needed help with the noise, "Quiet now, don't wanna send Banner home with an erection," you whispered through gritted teeth, your hand on her hip squeezed tighter at the mention of her ex, their relationship was tumultuous, and you knew that, but you still hate knowing he has had her in ways you've yet to be able to.

Taking her classes made you exempt from the university fraternization rule, but since you had to be more major focused moving forward you were excited for the prospect of taking her out on the town and showing her off as yours.

"Tell me baby, who fucks you better?" Your free hand roamed between her legs just as she went to answer, you pinched her neglected clit and she shrieked your title into the skin of her palm in an attempt to not broadcast your activities, but you knew that no matter what he heard. There was a vent behind the desk that linked their offices, it's how she found him cheating.

It's how you knew your secret was safe...

Natasha began to quiet down, something about nearing the edge always seemed to cause her to go silent, it was an anomaly to you, you think it was her usual need for control seeping through the cracks, but you nonetheless found it sweet. Endearing really, that you could fuck the well known hard ass professor into a state of zen.

This time however she shocked you, her soft voice came out in a needy whimper, "I'm so close mommy, wanna feel you inside first, please, fill me up, I need it so bad, need you."

“Yeah?” You grunted as you reached down to grip the pump, “You want mommy’s seed? Want me to fill you up until your pregnant?”

Natasha shrieked yes as your words, coupled with the tip of your strap slamming into her inner most sensitive spot, sent her reeling. With a quick squeeze followed by a deep thrust you filled her pussy up with your faux cum, the sensation made her back arch her body into the desk, her head raised up as she screamed into your strategically placed mouth, and you were soon forcefully stilled by her fluttering walls.

Natasha moaned unendingly into your mouth as you managed to fuck her cunt through the resistance. It drove you wild, the sound of the mixed arousals as you drove the strap into her. Eventually the adrenaline from her orgasm faded and she lost the strength to hold her body up all of a sudden to maintain the kiss.

You chuckled as she slumped into the desk, and with a soft movement you pulled out. While she rested her hot skin against the chilled wood you reached into your file cabinet and pulled out a rag so you could clean her up. Then you did just that before you grabbed her pair of emergency sweats from the drawer, which were really just ones she stole from you.

After Natasha was cleaned, and redressed in comfy clothes you pulled her into your body, and settled the both of you into her desk chair. Natasha smushed her face against your chest, she was exhausted from her long day, and if you’d let her she would sleep here tonight.

“Natasha,” you softly called out to her and she groaned, knowing now that you wouldn’t, “Liho has been home alone with Alpine all day, that poor little guy is probably just as nervous as his dad is when around women at the bar.”

“Stupid Bucky,” Natasha grumbled in a muffled voice against you, “He ruins everything good.”

“He’s literally on an emergency military tour,” you cackled in a shocked tone, “Y/N, that was just code for Steve’s finally back in the states.”

Natasha was his childhood best friend, so of course she knew this, but you were slightly offended that she would think you didn’t.

“Yeah, I know Nat, but he’s far too modest to ask us to cat sit so he could fuck his boyfriend,” you smiled as she giggled unabashedly, “Still, he’s a good guy, the least we could do is watch the sweet little feline while he gets to do it.”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, “Yeah, I get it, I couldn’t even imagine going a year without being fucked by you,” you snorted, “You can’t even go a few days Nat, you’d likely shrivel up.”

The elder woman slapped your shoulder in a futile protest, the truth was clear as day when you take note of your fresh marks layered over and around the fading ones from other days.

“Carry me to the car?” You shook your head in amusement that she’d risk such exposure, but when noting how late it was you deemed it safe, and when all you saw was a bright red Bruce as you exited into the connected parking garage you were happy to have agreed to this.

—

As you two settled into bed you could feel the exhaustion wash over you instantaneously. Natasha couldn't sleep though, she was playing with your limp hand as her thoughts ran wild.

"Malysh?"

You hummed groggily, "Yes baby?"

"How long until you graduate again?"

"Three semesters left, why?"

"We should get married next fall then, so your degree matches your name," she genuinely relayed, her voice was level, but you could hear the subtle insecurities, "Oh, interesting. Why is it that you're not taking my last name, hmm?"

"Because I'm well established in my career as a Romanoff,” she scoffed playfully, “Plus, you need the additive so people remember who you belong to..." her grip on your hand tightened, and you know she was transported back to when Wanda’s hand laid atop your shoulder.

You pulled her body closer, hand interlocking with hers to cut off all of her nervous fiddling, “Hmm, I always thought the one who spends most nights writhing beneath the other took the last name of the champion atop of them,” but your words were nothing short of teasing.

Natasha retracted her hand from yours to slap it away, “Go sleep on the couch Y/N,” she tried to shuffle away in a show of anger, but much to her genuine delight you wouldn’t let her go, “Baby, I'm just kidding, of course I'll become a Romanoff,” you kissed her cheek softly, “Now everyone on campus will know you’re mine.”

Natasha turned to face you, her hand gently settled atop your cheek, “Irrevocably so detka,” she kissed your lips tenderly, then she buried her face into the crook of your neck, “G’nite.”

“Goodnight Natty,” you chuckled softly as she was already snoring, “I love you sweet girl.”

——

3,358 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 💋

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

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bitterkarella · 2 months

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Midnight Pals: Bluebeard

Anna Biller: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of bluebeard's castle Biller: it's about a woman trapped at a secluded castle under the thumb of a mysterious and dangerous nobleman with dark family secerts Biller: but with a feminist twist Biller: the twist is gender essentialism

Angela Carter: that's hardly feminist, anna Carter: now, when i retold bluebeard- Biller: oh you say that now angela Biller: but i got a secret weapon no woman can resist Biller: detailed lists of luxury fashion brands

Biller: did i mention this lady has a prada hat, a valentino dress, and dior boots? Biller: chanel, armani, versace Biller: those names won't mean anything to you men Biller: but to us ladies Biller: oh damn phewww is it hot in here or is it just me?

Biller: in fact, girls, i feel the sudden need... Biller: to go SHOPPING!!! Tabitha King: shopping!!!?! Sonia Greene: eeeee!! shopping!??!! Angela Carter: shopping!?!? Biller: we're all going to the mall!!!!

Patricia Highsmith: ugh pass Biller: what's the matter, patricia? no interest in a girls night out? Biller: i think Biller: someone needs a make-over!!!

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Shelley: what's this, you tellin a gothic story? Biller: what? it's not gothic! Biller: it's simply a novel that makes use of class story telling techniques of brooding fear, isolation, and dark secrets Biller: and if you think that makes it gothic Biller: well i just don't know WHAT to tell you

Shelley: so it's not a gothic story? Biller: no it simply makes use of classic techniques Shelley: is this like how the love witch wasn't a pastiche Biller: IT'S NOT A FUCKIN PASTICHE Shelley: it's a pastiche Biller: SHUT UP!! Biller: whatever happened to sister solidarity!?

Biller: now my work asks, why do women stay with abusive men? Angela Carter: interesting Biller: could it be because it's kinda hot? Carter: Carter: uhhh

Angela Carter: but anna! what about feminism?! Biller: don't criticize me! Biller: i did it for YOU, all for you!! Biller: sure, your guilty feminist conscience may force you to dote on sensitive new age guys but you know deep down you secretly long for a hot-tempered he-man to slap you around, pull your hair, and rule you like a king!!!

Edward Lee: bro Lee: bro Lee: i'm gonna tame this filly Barker: yeah good luck with that Lee: naw naw it's cool Lee: i like em spicy

Lee: yeah babe i getcha, i hear the love witch was a pastiche Biller: IT'S NOT A PASTICHE Lee: yeah it's a pastiche Biller: IT'S NOT A FUCKIN PASTICHE!!! Lee: [to Barker] this is called negging, bro, works every time

Biller: UGH YOU MEN Biller: you're all the same!! Biller: arrogant! bull-headed! Biller: god why can't i quit you?!?

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #clive barker #mary shelley #patricia highsmith #anna biller #angela carter #sonia greene #tabitha king #edward lee

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strawbeerossi · 10 months

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Soulless

Pairing: Unsub!fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a femme fatale killer rises in the Greater Quantico area, it sends the BAU in a tailspin trying to figure out who this mystery woman is. What Spencer didn’t realize was that his sweet and doting girlfriend is the one committing the dark and sinful acts haunting the city and the team.

Content Warnings: Criminal Minds case matter, alcohol consumption, suggestive thoughts,some coarse language.

Word Count: 2.6K

Part one || Part two || Part three

Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist || Request

Alright! This is a three part series. I’ll upload part two tomorrow and part three on Sunday. If you remember, Soulless and Heartless were two fics I posted very early on in my account and I decided to make some modifications and come up with a third (and final) part.

A femme fatale killer exudes an intoxicating allure, her every move a calculated seduction. With a glance, she ensnares her victims, drawing them into her web of deceit and danger. Behind her enigmatic eyes lies a deadly combination of beauty, charm, and an insatiable thirst for power and control, typically things she never got before. The description was what they’d seen before.

Cat Adams and Megan Kane being perfect examples. Women who yearned for the power that men before them had taken away. It was reclaiming what was theirs in any means necessary, even if relatively innocent men were murdered for the sake of their thirst.

A femme fatale killer leaves behind a trail of bodies, each one a meticulously planned masterpiece of seduction and demise. Her victims succumb to her intoxicating charms, unaware of the danger lurking behind her captivating façade until it's too late.

Her level of sultry charm would allow her to convince them to be tied up in either a chair or to a bed, submitting to her every move before their life was abruptly ended by a razor sharp blade slitting their throats in cold blood.

This woman had erupted from nowhere within the past three months, wreaking absolute havoc on Quantico. With six bodies under her belt, the BAU was working their hardest to prevent any more. It was like this woman was yearning for power, control. She’d use her hypersexuality to her advantage.

They suspected she’d been scouting out bars or clubs, places where she would only have to flirt and entice men to come home or to some random hotel with her. It was meticulously planned. She picked the shadiest hotels meant for the likes of prostitutes, the type of people who took cash and didn’t ask questions, not having cameras or any of the like.

Nobody could ever get a description of her, any faint recollection being that she had brunette hair and a charming smile. It could’ve been any fucking woman in Quantico, there not being anything distinctive about being a brunette with a beautiful smile.

All they knew was: her personality was a lethal concoction of allure, seduction, and calculated manipulation, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Her voice, a smoky velvet caress, carried an irresistible allure that leaves a lingering imprint on the hearts and minds of those who hear it.

The type of woman who was capable of dangerous things, maybe even being able to convince the strongest willed of men that they were well deserving of her love, her care.

The whole BAU was stumped, unsure of where to start. There was no way that they’d easily find her, so that plunged the attentive team into months and months of investigation. Even in other cases, they would always manage to fall back on the woman who was terrifying the city where they resided in when they had even a second of free time.

Garcia was doing her best to dig up the information that she needed, however with a woman who can cover her tracks, she was very careful. There was never a weapon left behind, not even single strands of hair or other DNA they could pick up on.

It was a Saturday evening whenever Spencer was being taken away from the file in his hand when he could hear a knock against his front door, only letting out a frustrated sigh due to the fact that he felt so fucking helpless. His brain normally could piece this shit together by now but whoever this woman was, she had even the greatest mind on the team stumped.

After closing the file that he’d put together himself full of his own personal research back in its spot on the shelf, he was heading over to open the door to his apartment.

He offered a warm smile seeing Y/N on the other side, holding up a bag containing some takeout along while a cup holder holding two drinks for them. “I figured you were delving into work related stuff again when you didn’t call back.” She wrinkled her nose with a smile, the woman calling at least three times while he was engrossed with the file on her. He didn’t know that quite yet, although she really did hope he wouldn’t end up figuring it out. She really did like this one, not wanting to slit his throat from the smallest interactions.

It started out as a thing where she knew she’d have to slowly attack the team personally, which she wasn’t expecting to actually fall in love with the loving, sometimes awkward genius.

“Buy a girl a drink?” Her voice, like a melodic symphony, gracefully cuts through the calm atmosphere of the bar, captivating the patron beside her with his undivided attention. “Consider it done.” The man chuckled, holding up a moment to catch the bartender’s attention when he got a moment.

He had a tall and lean physique, wearing a signature tailored suit, which accentuated his refined and intellectual demeanor. His light brown hair was styled in a tousled manner, his curly hair falling to his shoulders yet still brushed back from out of his face. His expressive hazel eyes conveyed both a hint of brilliance and deep empathy, catching the essence of his good natured soul.

His voice could’ve been described as a soft-spoken and articulate tone, often filled with a hint of curiosity and genuine enthusiasm. His voice carries a unique blend of intelligence, empathy, and a touch of vulnerability, drawing anyone who listens to him in. He was a man who could get anyone’s attention. “What’re you drinking?” He asked, his eyebrow raising as he offered a slight smile.

“A cherry vodka sour.” Y/N answered, her chin resting against the palm of her hand as she was mesmerized by Spencer’s captivating features. He had hair that she wouldn’t mind pulling by roughly while she was focused on getting herself off, her hips rocking back and forth on top of him in an effort to get herself off and worry about him later, eyes that she could already see being glossed over with tears from begging for his own release that she wouldn’t grant until she was damn good and ready.

Once her drink was brought out to her, the woman was letting her fingertips slowly trace over the rim of the glass, her gaze still laser focused. “You got a name, stranger?” She asked, reaching in her drink for the cherry that had been dropped in. “You don’t look like the type who has to sit alone at a bar at the end of the night.” She began, her tone dropping to a more flirty one. “I’d think you have a wife you need to get home to, ready to greet you at the door.” She continued on, her eyes fixed on the luscious red cherry resting atop its stem. She brought the fruit to her lips, parting them ever so slightly. She captured the cherry between her teeth, savoring the tartness that exploded upon her tongue.

At this point, her gaze was locked with the man beside her as she pulled the stem from the cherry with a tantalizing slowness, her lips glistening with a hint of juice. As the fruit disappeared into her mouth, her tongue danced, relishing in the flavor. With each sensuous bite, her movements became a seductive display of pleasure. As she noticed those beautiful hazel irises disappearing because of blown out pupils, she knew she had him reeled in.

“Sp-Spencer Reid.” The man’s voice stuttered, leaning against the bar while his gaze was fixated on the captivating and down right sinful looking woman beside him. “And no, no wife at home.” He chuckled at the thought. After Maeve, he didn’t see himself settling down if he were honest. Max was someone who he was seeing for a while, although things just didn’t seem to work out between them. Dating a man who had a non-stop busy life was hard, he recognised that. He didn’t blame her when she let him down gently.

“That’s too bad.” Y/N tutted, her tongue collecting the cherry juice that was shining on her lips. “A man like you deserves to have a lady to take care of him.” She was now slowly moving to the edge of the bar stool in an effort to get closer. To her joy, Spencer didn’t even move the more she got closer. “Maybe I can show you just how you deserve to be treated, wouldn’t you like that, Spencer?” She had a glint of mischief in her eyes, her hand coming out to rest on his upper arm.

The mere touch sent electricity through Spencer’s whole body, falling right into the potential trap of a murderous woman who he was hunting, who he had long forgotten about as the conversation with Y/N began. She was captivating, a succubus who was slowly luring him in with her intoxicating charm, already starting an addiction that Spencer feared he wouldn’t be able to get over, knowing that once he’d gotten even the smallest taste of the mischievous and beautiful creature beside him, he’d be a goner.

The night went on from there, the woman straying far from her usual routine and ending up at Spencer’s apartment instead, where the two spent all night having delicious, toe curling sex that was enough to make the woman want to marry him and give him everything he ever needed right on the spot. It was late, nearing four in the morning and five orgasms later when the two were finally collapsing on the king sized bed, ending up with Spencer grabbing her by the waist and pulling her frame up against his, the male whispering about how he wanted her to stay overnight with him and allow him to hold her, rather than throwing her out or calling a cab.

That led to an obsession. An obsession that had taken over Y/N’s life. She continued to kill in brutal ways but then she’d go over to her boyfriend’s place and spend the rest of the night with him afterwards. That was always the thing she needed after a killing. Her boyfriend. She knew that the plan of destroying the behavioral analysis unit had been foiled, due to the sheer fact that Spencer loved all of them like family. Last thing she’d ever do was take his family from him.

“How is the case going?” Y/N asked as she had already gotten their food distributed on their own plates, however she knew there would be a point where Spencer or herself would swipe something from each other’s plates. “It’s exhausting.” Spencer answered honestly. He was frustrated, angry. This should’ve been something he’d have figured out by now, there could be another body or two discovered by the end of the week and he wouldn’t have any idea where to look.

“I’m sorry, baby..” Her eyebrows furrowed as her hand was reaching over the table to take his much larger one in her hand, giving it a loving squeeze. “You’re gonna drive yourself crazy thinking about it. Why don’t you take the night off?” She asked, knowing that Spencer had his own obsession with solving the puzzle. He was forcing the pieces together, so it was no shock he hadn’t had any leads yet. “I can’t take a night off, Y/N. This bitch isn’t gonna take a night off.”

Ouch.

“I can understand that but losing your mind isn’t gonna help anyone.. It’s okay to step back from a case.” Y/N argued, a frown washing over her previously calm features. “Just trust me, okay?” She spoke, a soft smile on her face while she was walking around the table, sitting herself in her boyfriend’s lap. He was tense, presumably from every ounce of stress that was winding him up. Grabbing his fork from the table, she was getting a forkful of rice before holding it up to his mouth, just contently feeding Spencer while he was still overly wound. “I’ll make you feel much better. Promise.”

She knew she was the reason he was getting too lost in his job, sometimes neglecting food and sleep just to try and get answers. She’d have to take a break from all of this, just so she could take care of Spencer and bring his stress levels down. She’d pick back up whenever he wasn’t at a near stroke level of stress.

Dinner went by quite smoothly, the woman lovingly shushing her boyfriend when he’d try and bring up his frustrations with the case, just calmly cutting him off so she could talk about lighter topics. She asked about Henry and Michael, watching that frown on Spencer’s face falter while he was happy to talk about both of his godsons, who Y/N hadn’t met just yet. It was still a little too early on, she thought so anyway. There was a lot that came with meeting the team. She wasn’t afraid of being found out, mainly because she had Spencer infatuated with her, it wouldn’t be hard to get the rest of the team to adore her. JJ would be easy, so would Penelope, Luke and David. The trickiest one would more than likely be Emily from what she had heard about her.

As Y/N focused on washing a few dishes and silverware used with dinner, she was sending Spencer off to the couch, giving him strict instructions to relax and to leave the damn file alone. However, she shouldn’t have been surprised the moment that she exited the kitchen to see the file open, Spencer leaning back on the couch with his legs spread as he was trying to get comfortable. With a shake of her head, Y/N was heading over to the couch.

“What did I say?” Her voice was sweet, though the way she took the papers from his hand was purely out of frustration, practically snatching them. “Baby. You need to take a step back.” She sighed while moving to climb in her boyfriend’s lap again, a soft smile on her face while she could see just how tired he was the closer she got. Her hands were slowly resting against his cheeks, thumbs caressing over his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. “You’re worrying me..” She whispered, worry laced in her voice. “I don’t want you to lose your sanity over this.” She expressed her concerns like she’d done about two million times in the past, moving to lay her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder as she was holding him. The good news was, he seemed to let his body relax while he was being squeezed by the loving embrace of Y/N.

Things would be okay. He’d be okay and she’d be okay.

There were a few moments of comfortable silence, until the sound of Spencer’s phone was taking them out of tranquility. Now Y/N knew this meant that Spencer would more than likely be pulled away on a case, so she braced herself. At least she knew that she didn’t do anything this time, so it wouldn’t be about the bitch Spencer mentioned earlier.

Her gaze was fixated on his face, reading his every emotion as her tired boyfriend was picking up the phone. “Yeah, Emily?” He asked, his lips in a thin line at first. Y/N was pressing a sweet kiss over them with a reassuring smile, her hands rubbing over his chest. However, all of her hopes of it being a normal call were wiped away whenever she noticed Spencer’s face contort into one of agitation, anger. “Are you serious? Okay, okay. Yeah I’m on my way. I may bring someone with me because if it’s who we think it is, there’s gonna be trouble. I can’t risk anything.”

As soon as the phone was hung up, Y/N was looking at him in curiosity, her eyebrows raising as she waited for an explanation of why she had to go with him to the office. “The killer struck again, this time close to my apartment.”

What the actual fuck?

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hadesxpercy-events · 4 months

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Percy Jackson/Hades Fest 2024

Link to the ao3 collection is here.

Plain text, links and tag list below.

...

SFW (safe for work) Prompts.

One. “Ask me for sanctuary. I’ll protect you.”

Two. “Would you like pomegranate juice?”

Three. Hades pining after Percy.

Four. Free Day.

Five. Royalty (canon or AU)

Six. “I glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades’… I wished Queen Persephone were here.”

Seven. “He was the third god I’d met, but the first who really struck me as godlike.”

...

NSFW (not safe for work) Prompts.

One. “The sea does not like to be restrained.”

Two. “I was tempted to take a nap at Hades’ feet. Curl up here and sleep forever.”

Three. Percy as the stereotype: “Daddy issues made me a whore for older men.”

Four. Free Day.

Five. “I immediately felt like he should be giving the orders… He should be my master.”

Six. Hades and/or Persephone read TLT written by adult Percy and find out that Percy thinks Hades is attractive.

Seven. “He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful and dangerous as a panther.”

...

Timeline.

January 30th, 2024: Prompts are posted. The AO3 collection opens.

January 30th - May 26th, 2024: Creation Period.

May 26th, 2024: AO3 Collection works are revealed.

May 26th – June 1st, 2024: Posting period.

June 1st – June 15th, 2024: Submit event feedback. Join the Hall of Fame.

June 15th, 2024: AO3 Collection closes and the Hall of Fame is posted.

...

Rules.

-Creators can make any kind of media: fanfiction, fanart, mood boards, playlists, etc.

-You don’t have to complete all the prompts – however many you want is fine.

-There are no alternate prompts listed, so if you don’t like a prompt in the SFW list you can steal one from the NSFW list and write it in a SFW rated fic, and vice reversa.

-No underage. If there’s sexual content between 2+ characters, both should be 18+. Feel free to age characters up as needed.

-No inc*st. Since this is Greek myths, this will be defined as no sibling x sibling or parent x child where one or both characters are mortal.

-Feel free to add Persephone to as many (or as little) of the prompts as you want! In fact, if you want to make fanwork centering around Percy x Persephone with Hades in the background, that’s fine.

...

Posting.

-I would love to reblog your entries for this event! Please make sure that:

1. Any NSFW content is tagged/labelled

2. You tag the Tumblr blog in the post (@hadesxpercy)

-Please feel free to add your work to the ao3 event collection. The link is posted below the images.

-The ao3 collection name is Hadercy Fest 2024

-The ao3 collection tag is hadercy_2024.

...

Taglist, as requested in the google form survey:

@takaraphoenix @writingisgone @til-f @stackofstories @what-in-gaeas-realm @willothecrisps @incompleteth0ts @animefan22446688 @ifeelsosigma @rhaeblack66

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verily-veve · 5 months

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@hprecfest I wanted to do this and made my first rec list :)

1. A favorite fic under 5k: Still Life (Drarry, E, 3k)

No summary given.

2. A comfort fic : Orange Blossoms @danpuff-ao3 (Snarry, T, 4k)

These are foolish times to have hope, and more foolish still to be in love.

3. A podfic : Deadheading the Odd Dahlia @cailynwrites (Drarry, T, 1.5 hours)

Harry is content to spend his days at Draco’s flower stall at the farmers market, burying his true feelings in artisanal coffee and rose bouquets. When forced to find new lodgings, he accepts Draco’s offer to live in a cottage at Malfoy Manor, and his long-hidden crush blossoms out of control. Turns out, proximity makes the heart grow fonder.

4. A fic with art: The Curse of Anteros @danpuff-ao3 @mrviran (Snarry, E, 53k)

When Harry is cursed, he seeks out Severus Snape. They have a long history behind them, after all, and they've always had so much between them. Who else would he go to?

5. A non-AO3 fic : If You Are Prepared (Snarry, E, 193k)

A task he can't refuse. A boy he doesn't want to refuse.

6. An unreliable narrator fic : Heartbeat by @phantomato (Tomarrymort, Harry/Orion, E, 23k)

Harry, dumped into the past, communes with dangerous men.

7. A canon-compliant fic : Rapture by @mia-ugly (Snarry, E, 48k)

Snape sees the man, for the first time, on his twenty-fifth birthday.

8. A canon-divergence fic : Certain Dark Things by @liladiurne (Snarry, E, 50k)

In which Severus takes a trip to Italy, thinking he'll have a quiet time at the Malfoys' villa, but Harry has other plans.

9. A rare pair fic (less than 2000 fics on AO3) : The Sword of Gryffindor (Sneville, E, 58k)

“Do you feel strong hitting me?” Neville spits out. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry before, but there’s something else too. He wants to feel it again, the pain, wants to control it like he did last time. This isn’t like Amycus Carrow driving his wand into his shoulder blades while whispering about his parents, this isn’t sitting scared in a school bench while his sister rants about muggles with a crazy glint in her eye. A choice. He’s in control here, he can take it. “Do it again you fucking coward.”

10. A fest fic : Not All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (Drarry, E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot. But before long he finds himself with a thriving business, a nice flat, some actual (albeit irritatingly Gryffindor) friends, and a very satisfying sex life. What’s more, no-one is hexing him in the street. And Harry Potter is single, and gorgeous, and giving Draco decidedly interested looks. Stop taking the Felix? You must be joking…

11. A dark fic : Frigid by @mrviran (Harrymort, E, 3k)

In which one of Voldemort's Horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

12. A WIP you’re following : Pacify by @chickenpets (Snarry, E, ongoing)

Pacify: 1. To allay the anger or agitation of 2. To reduce to a submissive state He would do his duty. He would save Draco, if he could. He would protect the students, if and when the school fell to the Deatheaters. And Potter. As far as he was concerned, Potter could have whatever he wanted, now. What was the point of trying to tell him no if he was going to be sacrificed on the pyre of the greater good? If Potter wanted to learn, Severus would be his teacher. If he wanted a master, then Severus would make him submit. And if he wanted a lover... well. Severus would love him. And that was it. Anything else was a waste of time. And there was so little of that.

13. A fic with over 100k words : Another Mask Behind You (Drarry, E, 116k)

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

14. A favorite series : Love Your Enemy by @danpuff-ao3 (Snarry, E, 50k)

Love...hate...Harry and Severus definitely hate each other (if only because they love each other so much.)

15. The most recent fic you bookmarked : Everything We Dream Can be Real by @vdoshu (Tomarry, E, 51k)

Harry had a life after Voldemort. He had a family. He had a career. And then one day it was all ripped away when he woke up at Number 4 Privet Drive. Or: Where Harry doesn’t exactly get that chance to do it over again. And things are Not Okay.

16. A fic that made you laughed: Harry Potter and the Problem with Potions (Harry & Snape, T, 184k)

Once upon a time, Harry Potter hid for two hours from Dudley in a chemistry classroom, while a nice graduate student explained about the scientific method and interesting facts about acids. A pebble thrown into the water causes ripples. Contains, in no particular order: magic candymaking, Harry falling in love with a house, evil kitten Draco Malfoy, and Hermione attempting to apply logic to the wizarding world.

17. A fic that made you cry: Epitaphs in Autographs by @vukovich (Drarry, E, 7k)

A series of works surrounding death, imperfect relationships, flawed coping, and humanity.

18. A fairy-tale inspired fic : Two Lockets (Snarry, E, 57k)

Harry, Snape, and the grim old house that keeps its secrets.

19. Fic with the hottest smut: Ruin by @chickenpets (Snarry, E, 12k)

Severus didn’t even want to contemplate how quickly he’d crumbled, or how incredibly satisfying it felt to have Potter immobilized and powerless that way. Because the boy he had under his fist right then was not the same one that had barged into his lab demanding attention and slinging insults. This boy was… different. He was silent, and wide-eyed. Flushed, and panting, and very, very still. It was almost like alchemy. The Golden Brat of Hogwarts - the Chosen One - transformed instantly into this new apparition. He’d gotten what he wanted, Severus supposed. Brutality.

20. A fic rated G: The Son by @perverse-idyll (Regulus, G, 5k)

First there were two sons. Then there was one.

21. A thought-provoking fic : The Things We Need by @kbrick (Drarry, E, 25k)

Three hundred and fifty-three days out of the year, Harry is in a monogamous, fufilling relationship with Draco Malfoy. Then there are the other twelve days.

22. An unfinished fic (hasn’t updated in 10 years or author stated it been abandoned) : The Marriage Stone (Snarry, E, 382k)

To avoid the machinations of the Ministry, Harry must marry a reluctant Severus Snape. But marriage to Snape is only the beginning of Harry's problems. Voldemort has returned, and before too long Harry's marriage may determine the world's fate.

23. A soulmate fic : The Left Words (Harrymort, M, 234k)

Harry has some weird words on his left wrist. That must be one of those strange things that Aunt Petunia hates so much. But it's okay! He likes them. Then, it all turns even weirder. Hogwarts, magic, a Headmaster and a Dark Lord await Harry - he would prefer if they all just left him alone, thank you very much. But when has it ever mattered what Harry wants?

24. A holiday fic: All I Want for Christmas (is for You to Stop Talking) by @femmequixotic and noeon (Drarry, E, 162k)

The Niffler's Garden is the most prestigious wizarding nursery school in England and has been for the last century or more. Harry Potter's boys are both enrolled as pupils at the Garden. When he volunteers to assist with the Yule pageant, he has no idea that he'll be working closely with another parent, Draco Malfoy. Although they haven't seen each other much since their own school days, Harry faults Malfoy for not being a hands-on dad to little Scorpius. Will the intense weeks of preparation fan the fires of enmity or something else entirely?

25. A fic rated T: Altered Course by @crowcrowcrowthing (Tomarry, T, 12k)

Tom Riddle has a problem. He has so many plans, so many things to learn and accomplish during his time at Hogwarts, but one professor—one charming, talented, maddeningly handsome professor—is determined to get in his way. How does Professor Potter seem to anticipate Tom's every move? How does he always manage to stay several steps ahead, knowing secrets about Tom he has no right knowing? It’s simply unacceptable, and Tom needs to do something about it before everything is ruined.

26. A fic with an ending you can’t stop thinking about : Nocturne by @necromanticnoir (Snarry, E, 54k)

A Gothic Snarry version of ‘Beauty and the Beast’, inspired by the dark and sensual tale from the Czech film version, ‘Panna a Netvor’. I follow some of the plot, but then diverge and do my own thing. Got to make it even weirder, right? An eerie, erotic, brooding, bloody, batty, haunting fairytale. ‘Underneath my skin there’s a human. Buried deep within there’s a human. Despite everything, I’m still human.’ - ‘Human’ by Daughter

27. A Muggle-AU fic : with great outbursts and lightnings by @liladiurne (Snarry, E, 148k)

They stand there for a moment, just looking at each other. Harry has developed smoking to an art form that fascinates Severus. Everyone smokes in Paris, but he’s never taken up the habit himself. Watching Harry smoke, however, is strangely erotic. It feels like watching something that ought to be done in private. He wants to say something, anything, but he’s speechless. He’s a bloody poet, and here he is, standing speechless in front of a nineteen-year-old boy. March, 2013. In which Severus is a semi-famous poet with writer's block who moves back to London after the death of his lover and meets Harry, a prodigy struggling with his own demons.

28. An under-rated fic : An Eye for an Eye (Drapery, E, 42k)

Harry owes Draco a Life Debt.

29. A post-canon fic : Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm (Drarry, E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

30. A pre-canon fic : He's just a Little Fixer-Upper (Snilch, E, 10k)

After Voldemort's first defeat, Snape's grief and guilt are overwhelming, and he starts thinking about ending it all. But there's someone in the castle who's been watching Snape since he was a child, someone determined to put him back together again.

31. A fav amongst favs: for this I have 1 for my 3 favorite ships :)

Wild (Drarry, E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

When the Rose and the Fire Are One by @perverse-idyll (Snarry, E, 81k)

Harry's haunted by guilt. Snape's warded by roses. Each must free the other in order to free himself.

Either must die at the hand of the other by @metalomagnetic (Harrymort, E, 260k)

Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts because Harry Potter had not been the one to kill him, as the prophecy demands.

#hprecfest2023 #snarry fics #drarry fics #tomarrymort fics #rare pair fics

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jaynovz · 10 months

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Silverflint “In Peril” Fic Rec List

Hi guys! I got an anon a few weeks ago requesting Silverflint recs with the prompt: “one of them being in danger/peril/kidnapped (or anything akin to that) and the other going just above and beyond to save him. something with the vibe, if you hurt him i'll kill you.”

There were hmmm not as many as I thought with the EXACT getting rescued parameter but I compiled some similar ones as well. Enjoy.

Affinity by Magnetism_bind

Summary: Silver spends his time while captured by Hands thinking of Flint and ignoring his feelings for the man.

It's a little harder to do so after Flint rescues him.

Notes: Oneshot, 4.6k, definitely the best and most faithful example of the prompt as submitted. Silver is held hostage and brutalized by Israel Hands and Flint rescues him.

Another Way by x_etoile_x

Summary: Silver doesn’t get the chance to turn back and attack the Spanish soldiers when he and Flint are captured on the warship, so he needs to come up with a different plan. Things get out of control. A retelling of their time on the warship at the beginning of S2, in the aftermath of this.

Notes: Long fic, 29k. Fantastic story on many levels. For the list, first chapter has a direct fulfillment of the prompt--Flint is in danger, Silver goes above and beyond to save him.

Fifteen Men in September by ballantine

Summary: Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

A Black Sails origin story for the song.

Notes: Long fic, 34k, just a fantastic read. There is a pivotal scene where Silver kills a man on Flint’s behalf and then further scenes of both of them in peril, Silver gravely ill. Very much the “going above and beyond” and “if you him I’ll kill you” vibe.

we were never meant to survive (but what if we did) by explosiontimothy, inwardphae

Summary: Since you still haven’t told me your name, I shall call you Jonah. You are so obsessed with sea and water that you’d make a home out of the belly of a whale if only it meant not to touch foot on solid land ever again. What if you get stuck there? I’d be forced to make my way to you and drag you out, cut the whale’s skin with my knife like a shark with its teeth and carve my shape out of it. And yours. There are two fighters, on opposite sides of the time war. They have never met but they know each other's names. But names are powerful, untamed things when they are spoken out loud. So they don’t call each other by their names, ever. Until, one day, they do. The Silverflint Time-Travel AU no one asked for, but you're all getting anyway.

Notes: Long fic, 46k, big concept sweeping crossover with the book This is How You Lose the Time War. Without spoiling, this story very much embodies “going above and beyond to save him.” Top tier.

darkness in his fingertips, eyes just the same by Jaynovz

Summary: A desperate fear is welling up in Silver. Flint, injured? How grievous a wound must it be to keep Flint from a battle? To prevent him from heading up the rescue party? Flint, who Silver had seen take a warship with a shot shoulder, Flint, who shrugged off injuries from raids with an annoyed grimace as if they were minor inconveniences. Silver’s heartbeat is too fast and too slow at the same time, ice creeps around him from all sides at the stark reminder that Flint is mortal. The man who would sneer at God, who would sail straight into a tempest, who seemed to control reality with his demons… Silver has seen Captain Flint bleed, yes, but it’s never mattered like this, never truly hampered him.

And on the heels of this fear is something far less enfeebling, something Silver embraces: a dark vortex of rage.

Notes: Oneshot, 4.3k. A reaction to in peril. An alt canon take of early s4 where Billy injures Flint at the Underhill Plantation. After Silver returns, he murders Billy for the insult. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you” exactly.

frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat

Summary: “I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

Notes: Long fic, 21k. A very excellent story overall, and for this list specifically, it features Flint taking a sword to protect Silver in battle and Silver murdering the man responsible.

how we could be brought here by love by mapped

Summary: A 4x03 AU where Flint receives a minor injury in the battle of Nassau Town and Silver is very shaken by it.

Notes: Oneshot, 3.7k. Not a rescue so much as Silver’s intense reaction to Flint being hurt. I think it fits the vibe.

in over our heads by Jaynovz

Summary: Set at the end of 2.1.

The remaining Walrus crew want Silver flogged.

The experience creates some altogether unexpected outcomes.

Notes: Mid-size fic, 13k. Silver is flogged, Flint is very affected by that, takes care of him after, and they both learn a lot about each other ahem. “If you hurt him I’ll kill you” vibes definitely feature.

please do not let me go by natlet

Summary: Vulnerability, it turns out, is a blade that cuts both ways.

Notes: Series, 5 stories, 39k words total. An overall excellent series of Silverflint fics, however the one I’m thinking of for this list is the fourth, all pale and panting, where Flint is gravely ill and Silver goes above and beyond to take care of him.

As always, let me know if you have a suggestion for an inclusion and I’ll give it a look. Thanks.

#black sails #fic recs #black sails fic recs #silverflint fic recs #jay's esoteric rec lists #silverflint #john silver #james flint #my writing #silverflint fanfiction #long post #anon #request

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lovra974 · 1 year

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Another Barbarian Bakugo... [part 1?]

Not exactly a reverse because Bakugo is a Barbarian too. Barbarian Bakugo x Dragonrider reader. Dragonshifter Kirishima. Enjoy !

The Bakugo clan is a powerful one. It rules over most clans and tribes in the East. They are known for their firmness. The queen and king, Mitsuki and Masaru are respected and feared by others tribes. Their army is the biggest in the East. Mitsuki wrath is something bard wrote about and sang to keep other from bothering.

They strived thanks to the numerous pillages the Prince Katsuki Bakugo do. He's knowed to be one of the best warrior on the continent. His friends group was a scary bunch of warriors. They were vicious, skilled in their discipline, they respected their leader and in exchange he didn't hesitate to put his life in their hands.

The Bakugo clan worked with a strict moral code and hierarchy. You respect the veterans, you don't kill the children, what's not yours can be taken, if taken then it's yours.

However, the clan feared their golden age came to an end. In the North, the King Enji Todoroki was restless. He linked his bloodline to witches captured in the West, giving his people godslike abilities.

The battles were nightmarish. Katsuki lost half of his soldiers and almost die twice. The war was expensive in golds and people.

The Queen Mitsuki have to find a solution. Bowing to Enji was out of the equation. She rather kill all her family than submit to this arrogant ostrich.

She glared at the map where the Phoenix of the Todoroki family stood proudly in the North. It was slowly nibbling at the East territory.

Her advisors were throwing hypothesis on how to force the North King to commit an error. All ideas were shut by the Prince Bakugo while he was getting healed by a servant.

"The ostrich is too fucking smart to confront us directly! They have boats! He's gonna circle us by the sea and trapped us like idiotic bunnies!"

"We don't have boat, no tribe as ever rode the sea in our history." lamented an advisor.

"Then I'll be the first!" Snarled Bakugo.

"Don't say things like that, it makes you look even stupider." Glared his mother.

While the Prince kept shouting he could defeat Enji, the Queen looked at the river Jaham. It begun in their territory and descended straight South. She blinked.

"I need someone to take a message to the L/N Realm."

"Your friendship with them was a long time ago my Queen, they may not respond to your call..."

"They will. For I have a proposition they can't say no."

The L/N Realm, what a mysterious country. The South was a dense tropical forest. The high mountains made the traveling hard. The forest was dangerous even for the one who know their way. The rains were heavy and brutal, storms shook the ground like drums.

Some says this land was mystic. Witches whispered that rocks and earth had their own voice. Some says nobody lived there or that the land was a graveyard for past civilisations. The wise just smiled, conscious of the secret kept by the land and the people.

Mitsuki waited. She waited a response to her message with apprehension. Nobody but her husband knew what deal she made with the Southerns. The Prince didn't care, he was busy repelling the attacks from the North.

And one morning, a watcher run to the Queen telling that a group was riding from the South toward them.

Arrived to the Bakugo's Capital five people on horses' back. One of them was you, Y/N L/N futur sovereign of the L/N Realm. In front of the throne, you bowed respectfully.

"Royals Bakugo, I came from the Mishae plains, far in the South. The Royals of my country received your missive, we are here to help your people to fight the King of the North. We remember our common past and we will fight with you until there is no more ash for the Phoenix to come back."

Mitsuki smiled, pleased. She glanced at Masaru, expressing just a second all the relief she felt.

Katsuki, on her left, eyed the men around L/N. Tan skin, battle scars, tribal tattoos that make him remember old tales he heard when he was young. But one of them was different from the others.

He was tall like a coloss, all in muscles, red hair and pointy teeth. He standed behind you, eyes far away, like he was perceiving things from somewhere else.

"We are honored for your arrival, Heir L/N. Can I know how much warriors are we waiting?"

"You won't be needing more than us five, your Hightness."

Everybody was waiting for the fall of the pun but only silence was met. Mitsuki's eyelid jump, tensing her youthful face.

"How that? "

"My people possessed forces that can easily compete with Todoroki's magic."

"What forces?"

You didn't respond straight away.

"You'll need to wait the next battle to watch."

"Is it magic?"

Murmurs broke in the room. Panic whispers or disdain shoots.

You grimaced. A growled was emitted from somewhere shutting everybody in the room.

Before anybody could ask about the animal sound you responded. "We don't really like this word, for us magic is a force extorior that a human called. What I talk about is something from the inside of us. But I guess you can call it some form of magic."

The Queen tapped her fingers on the armrest of her throne, her face was stern.

"I don't really trust... magic, whatever form yours take. If your part of the deal is not kept I won't kept mine."

Your gaze slowly turned to the Prince. Your eyes roamed on his form making him tense.

"Of course" you said turning back to the Queen.

"You are guests to my court." She declared with a strong voice. "Your quarters will be ready for you and your men."

A week passed until Todoroki's naval force strike. Until then, you took your time to visit the capital. It was surreal how much goods this country had.

Your land was less prosperous, difficult to grow vegetables in the mountains with the capricious weather. But you knew riches are not only counted in golds. Your people where better artisans, they had to when they built the same house for the nth time.

Through your inspection you were more and more sure you took the right decision.

"What's that?" asked Kirishima.

"Orange, you wanna try it?"

You paid the fruit and gave it to your best friend. His sharp teeth pierced the fruit and let the juice pour on his shin. He growled of content from the taste like a child, making you laugh.

"Why is the food so good here? I promise Y/N, I'm not sure I will want to leave after."

"If everything goes to plan, we won't be gone for long. And you will be able to fill your big belly until it explodes."

He offered you a grin, all fangs out. You kept walking along the street.

"For how much time do we need pretend we don't know he is following us?" Asked Kirishima again.

It was Katsuki Bakugo who was following you. You had said that five men could defeat Enji while so much of his men perished. It was insulting, he was furious about it. When he demended explanations from his parents he was shooed out. WHO THE LIVING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE??? Fooling him like that. You couldn't be better than him.

For your week there he observed you. You were either strolling the city or eating your heart out. The coloss, he learned was named Kirishima Eijiro, always followed you. You didn't look that strong. He sure could defeat you.

That's what he intended one afternoon, while you were in the gardens, he challenged you.

You gazed at him again, roaming your eyes on every crook of his body. He didn't know if you were admiring him or looking for his weak spots, were he was already injured.

You smiled, pleased apparently by his demand. "You are exactly like they told me, I accept your challenge."

He threw you a sword and begin to attack. The match went on for an hour. It ended with him on the ground, both swords on his throat. He blinked, world shattered before his eyes.

He rejected your hand when you gave him yours to stand. He stomped to the castle, wounded in his ego.

It was the first time you destroyed his world and how he thought it worked.

The second time was when Enji attacks. Mitsuki called you on the sea borders, thirty ships gliding toward the capital.

"I'll take care of it." you said, firmely.

You walked to the beach below, Kirishima following you. You watched the man you saw as your brother sinking in the sea.

Everybody waited with shaking heart, for you to do something. You did not.

It was the red head, who disappeared and left for a gigantic red scaled dragon. You climb on his back and flew towards the boats. You and the dragon burned down the fleet in a few minutes. Blood, flames and corpses decorated the sea. Screams slowly died.

You landed and Kirishima reappeared. Bakugo was shaking. His body sweating profusely. You stopped in front to them and decided to destroy his world again, for the third time.

"I guess our deal still stand, your Highness."

"It does Heir L/N. We will begin the wedding preparations, as promised."

"What? A wedding?" repeated Katsuki. "Why are we preparing a wedding?"

To this, you smiled darkly.

"Our wedding, dear bethroted."

You grounded your eyes in his, paralyzing his body. Him? Getting fucking married? To you?

"I'll be back in a month. And when I do, I'll put the Phoenix's crown on your head."

Kirishima laughed in the back. Katsuki felt too much. He felt trapped. He felt scarred. He felt stupid. You were covered in ashes, smiling knowing he couldn't say no.

At the beginning, he thought you were a opportunist liar. But you were very thoughtful, you calculated everything in that little head of yours, you had plans. And you were not a liar, because you were fucking determined to put this damn crown on his head like you promised.

He felt something else, burning down, but he rather drown himself than acknowledge it.

Part 2?

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugo x reader #barbarian bakugo x reader #barbarian bakugou

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 1 year

Text

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for May 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ in this world, it's just us by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry returns home from the Brits with his 4 awards happy and very drunk. Louis is super proud and extremely in love with his boy and more than happy to show it in any way he can.

＊ Bound by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [G, 619 words, Zayn/Liam]

Months should pass like hours for a vampire, but to Zayn they’ve felt endless. Now, finally, it has come.

The day he takes his consort.

＊ Bloom by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [T, 28k, Liam/Louis]

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne. Payne is both the bane of his existence and, uh... dangerous. Very dangerous. His eyes, that is. His lips. The way he stands.

A story of rain and cobblestones, cigarettes, and repression. And the sunshine after the storm.

＊ Digits for Daddy by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Harry is back to being cheeky on stage, and this time he’s teasing his fans with his hands. He loves working the crowd, and he can’t help but watch as the cameraman shows his fingers on the big screen. Louis, however, is less than amused.

＊ Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt [G, 3k, Harry/Louis]

“Little dove,” Louis crooned, making Harry shiver a little, affected, “you’re shaking. Do you want to bite?” Harry stilled. He knew what Louis was asking. He knew Louis probably could sense how in dire need of comfort he was. He knew Louis was offering. And yet- “No,” he whispered, even as he felt the strong urge to let his lips trace the well-known path to the spot he usually bit into, “I could hurt you.” “Harry, my darling, you haven’t hurt me once in the numerous times you’ve needed to bite. Today will be no different. You know it’ll do you good.” Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, torn. In the end, it was an offer he was too weak to resist. “So…do you want to? Little taste?” “Yeah,” Harry rasped out, “please.”

Or, Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.

＊ June by @neondiamond [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis and Harry pick a paint colour for their new daughter’s room.

＊ Blow the Banana by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

The last leg of Harry’s tour has started up, and he has kicked things off with a bang and a banana that someone threw on stage. He wasn’t planning on unpeeling it and giving the fans a cheeky show, but when they chanted that he should eat it, he couldn’t resist his sensual ways. Louis, of course, needed to punish him for it later.

＊ Hold Me How the Deep Night Has by @crochetsunsets [E, 48k, Harry/Louis]

Louis Tomlinson needs a change. Stuck in a cycle of going to the job he hates, spending time with his friends, and avoiding the one man he hates most in this world, Louis' in desperate need of something new. So when he discovers an abandoned notebook on the way to work, the decision is easy to take it for himself and begin a journal amidst the empty pages. What can't be expected are the words that appear overnight directly beside his own, written on the same day 400 years in the past. What are the consequences of a magical connection between two men of different centuries? And who, among it all, is the mysterious E who only exists on the other side of Louis' journal?

or What happens when love transcends time itself.

＊ That's The Way Love Goes by red_PANdaaa28 / @red-pandaaa [M, 8k, Louis/Harry]

For the last eleven months, there had been someone missing though. As Louis stared at the empty spot usually reserved for Liam, he realised it had almost been a year since they had been all five together.“Hey.” Harry nudged him gently in the ribs. As always, he was on the same wavelength as Louis; instantly knowing where his mind had wandered to. “He’ll come around eventually.” Louis nodded, taking a deep breath and plastered on a smile.

OR Liam is going through a break up. Louis remembers.

＊ seven, seven by @nouies [NR, 1k, Harry/Louis]

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

＊ (now I realize that the world outside) it's bigger than me by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 3k, Louis+Liam friendship fic]

It starts with a phone call from Liam.

“Lou,” it sounds urgent, the way that Liam gets when he’s worried, and Louis sits up straighter, conditioned to that tone even when he had hated it the first few years in the band.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brain immediately trying to play catch up, wondering where his keys are and if he can get away with leaving the house without a shower, because it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, it doesn’t matter how much physical distance there is between them, if any of his boys call and need him he’ll be there in a heartbeat. Or as soon as he can, at least.

“Did you mean to post that to your public account?”

Or: Louis accidentally comes out

＊ When it's good it's really something by @enchantedlandcoffee [E, ~1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis managed to lose himself in the sensation, his casual strokes quickening with purpose as his other hand clenched the duvet with his fist. He tried to muffle his groans slightly, still listening out for movement from downstairs. As his eyes flicked over to the clock, the bedroom door was pushed open to reveal a sweaty Harry, joggers riding even lower on his hips and two bottles of water in his hands. Harry’s eyes raked down Louis’ body, lingering on Louis’ hand and obvious erection. “You started without me?!” A pout formed on the younger boy’s face as he placed the drinks on the dresser, his eyes never leaving Louis’ body. “Took too long,” Louis breathed, throwing his head back with a soft moan as his hand quickened its pace.

Series Part 2 of Can We Please Get Back To Lovin'?

＊ If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 6k, Harry/Louis]

"Is Harry with you?" Louis blurted out, his free hand tapping anxiously against his knee. "Louis?" "Yeah. Is Harry with you?" On any other occasion, Louis knew Niall would have yelled at him for calling in the middle of the night. But Niall must've sensed the urgency in his tone, his voice immediately taking on a lighter touch. "Yeah. Yeah, he's been staying in the spare room. Why? Do you want me to get him for you?" "No!" Louis panicked. "Just- check on him please? Make sure he's breathing and everything?"

＊ i still wanna dance with you by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 6k, Louis/Harry]

The first time Louis Tomlinson sees Harry Styles, he thinks Harry is the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Long brown curls cascade past gently curved shoulders; big green eyes with long lashes blink up at him above a full, pink mouth. There’s a pile of clover in Harry’s lap where he’s plaiting a flower crown, and it’s not till Harry speaks, smiling shyly, that Louis realizes his mistake.

＊ Come All Ye by @justanothershadeofblue [E, 6k, Harry/Louis]

Come all ye rolling minstrels And together, we will try To rouse the spirit of the earth And move the rolling sky

It's the summer of 1971, and Louis just wants to get out of town for a minute or a day. When his buddy Zayn says they should head down south and check out this radical new music festival, Louis is only too happy to agree.

＊ Flowers in the Window by @justanothershadeofblue [M, 33k, Louis/Harry]

He’d fought with Harry; one last, angry, drag-out fight. Harry’d called him provincial and afraid; he’d shouted back that Harry was self-centered and ambitious. They hadn’t come to blows, but it had been a near thing - Harry had stormed out of the pub, barely remembering his guitar and forgetting his hat. Louis had gritted his teeth and finished his pint before striding out into the damp and windy night, letting the wet breeze hide the frustration that seeped down his cheeks. Now he lies listening to the voices in the wind as it howls in the space between his own house and Harry’s. The narrow gap that had always seemed non-existent throughout their childhoods now feels like a chasm in the darkness of the night, something opening between them too far to be bridged, too deep to be forded. Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.

Series Part 2 of ocean tides you home

＊ Hard to Handle by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Harry can't resist the chance to make a good joke, especially on stage in front of his fans. It just so happens that this one was dirty, the words “hard and fast” falling from his lips with a cheeky grin. It’s not until he gets to his dressing room that his dom Louis reminds him just how hard and fast things can get.

＊ Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13 [E, 4k, Harry/Louis]

“How the fuck does this always happen to you?” Louis huffed, pulling Harry's limp body into the half fallen apart car he'd borrowed for this. Well, he didn't intend to give it back, really, but insurance covered theft, did it not? And this thing was basically held together with duct tape and good faith, so really, the former owners should thank him for taking it off their hands.

It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.

＊ Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2 [NR, 15k, Louis/Harry]

“Right,” Niall started, finally getting the opportunity to unleash his horrible plan. “Well, as you both know, I’m an excellent matchmaker. A human Cupid.The best of the best at finding one's mate. And I’ve decided it’s time to make money doing it.”

“Oh, God no,” Louis groaned, picking up his empty plate and placing it in the sink. He needed to escape as quickly as possible.

Or the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

＊ Tip of the Tongue by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Harry can’t control what his fans do while he’s on stage, so when some of them started spraying water on him, he did the only logical thing and stuck his arms and tongue out, embracing the impromptu shower. The person who doesn’t embrace the action is Louis, who decides to give Harry a few showers of his own and remind the boy what is tongue is good for.

＊ Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings [M, 29k, Harry/Louis]

Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rouge ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

＊ take me back, take me back by eynap / @panye [E, 32k, Niall/Shawn Mendes]

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Niall says. He puts his head between his hands. “How is this happening?”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Harry says. “I wanted you to figure it out on your own.”

“You think I like Shawn, too?” Niall asks and he’s shocked. “If anyone is supposed to tell me that I’m gay it’s supposed to be my gay best friend!”

Or, Niall invites his new friend Shawn to Zayn and Liam's three-day wedding in Napa Valley, California. He gets way more than he expected.

＊ Five Zero Five by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

“So,” says Harry, and his fingers trail on Louis’ jaw, over his exposed neck. “I heard your cover tonight. Arctic Monkeys, really nice.” His fingers linger on Louis’ neck, stroke the Adam’s apple.

(Or, they told us all they have a choking kink.)

＊ Shame the Schlong by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Harry was forced to behave on stage when his mom was in the audience of one of his shows. Because of his this, he was sure that he hadn’t given his dom Louis a reason to punish him after the concert. A cheeky photo taken before Harry goes back to the hotel, however, has him in for a surprise.

#28th appreciation #hllibrary #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource

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usafphantom2 · 7 months

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During the Cold War, high-altitude surveillance flights of the A-12 Oxcart, the YF-12, and SR-71 Blackbird their crews were veiled in secrecy to make their existence deniable. 50 blackbirds were built 20 Blackbirds crashed.

MODEL #BUILT #LOST

A-12 13 5

M-21 2 1

YF-12 3 2

SR-71A 29 11

SR-71B 2 1

SR-71C 1 0

50 built 20 Crashed or lost

The list of A-12, SR-71, and YF-12 losses speaks volumes of just how dangerous the Cold War was.

CIA A-12 Project Pilot Ken Collins. This was the second A-12 to fly but the first to crash. On 24 May 1963, CIA pilot Ken Collins was flying an inertial navigation system test mission. After entering clouds, frozen water fouled the pilot-static boom and prevented correct information from reaching the standby flight instruments and the Triple Display Indicator. The aircraft subsequently entered a stall and control was lost completely followed by the onset of an inverted flat spin. Ken ejected safely and the wreckage was recovered in two days. Persons at the scene were identified and requested to sign secrecy agreements

“ I got troubles.” Ken Collins said calmly to his radio that Jack Weeks was listening to. (I was privileged to know Ken, his wife, Jane and their four children. Ken did not get shook up about anything) on May 24, 1964 using the call sign Dutch 26. Ken continued talking.’’ I think my air speed is fouled up.” in fact he is A-12 was decelerating into a dangerous corner of the flight envelope. Collins then entered a cloud deck losing all outside visual references. His A-12 pitched up flipped over and crashed. Thankfully before that happened he was able to Eject and walk away from the plane crash.

He was way out in the middle of nowhere when three men in a pick up truck came to pick him up. Ken asked them to take him to the nearest highway patrol station, he was then able to use the sheriff's radio to call a memorized number to tell the CIA his condition and location.

I am reading the book “Dreamland” by Peter Merlin, and I was surprised to read that Ken Collins was found at fault for this accident.

Ken had submitted to intense interrogation while under the influence of sodium AMYTAL. He submitted it to the interrogation shortly after he was safely ejected from the A-12. Initially, an inadequate PITOT tube was found at fault. The tube allowed moisture to seep in and freeze blocking the pressure port and resulting in erroneous readings

Col. Ledford found that it was not a material failure but a pilot error!

He believed Ken should have aborted the test and climbed above the cloud then he would’ve avoided the accident.

I’m not sure how Ken felt about Col. Ledford‘s findings but we must remember that the A-12 was in production until June 1964. The pilot error findings was a way to keep production of the A-12s rolling. This is just my thought..

After the crash, there was a search for an envelope that had fallen out of Ken Collins flight suit. It contains some top-secret papers and $1000 in cash. $1000 was a lot of money in 1963 after searching for a few days it was found a mile and a half from the crash site.

Over the years my father Butch Sheffield told me that he carried a sealed envelope while flying the SR-71 he was to give it to anyone, who might need some encouragement to help him. He never knew what was in the sealed envelope. Maybe I know now what it was?

Written by Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

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oddmawd · 2 months

Note

AAH I've been meaning to send this sooner but sometimes my brain stops working 😩this is in regards to the 'details about your oc' post: For Yamato: 🎶🐉

For Saffron: 💔🧐 please and thank you😇

OMG I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD SUBMIT SOMETHING FOR THE DETAILS ABOUT OCs ASK MEME AND THIS ABSOLUTELY MADE MY DAY OMG THANK YOUUUUU!!!!

i will begin proper grammar and punctuation now for legibility, ty ily <3

Yamato Rei

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Shocking precisely no one, Rei loves a good club banger. She loves music with a beat to which she can shake her goddamn ass (because she has a nice one, and she likes showing it off). Music is her preferred gym partner and running buddy, so anything to which she can time her workouts is a favorite of hers. But as one would expect of this former ballroom dancing champion who used to roll with a burlesque crew, Rei is NOT a one trick pony when it comes to music. Her preferences are incredibly wide ranging thanks to exposure to basically any style of music you care to name. Rock, pop, R&B, folk, jazz, Latin beats, rap, synth, techno, classical music, she can find something to love in any style, and she's probably danced to something from every single one of those genres over the years. Her Spotify is a MESS and no algorithm can pin down her eclectic taste.

🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?

Rei has a soft spot for the classic mermaid with a lovely singing voice (and stylish shell bikini; Rei loves a good accessory). She likes that they're close cousins and/or a pretty version of the siren, both dangerous and beautiful. Singing cool tunes and luring men to their deaths in a clamshell bra? Sign her up!

Isabella Saffron

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

Oh, my poor baby Saffron... Saffron is a fearful creature. Fearful of the past repeating, fearful of the unknown, fearful of being seen. Fearful of pain. Fearful of hunger. Fearful of suffering. Her fraught history informs these fears. They stem from legitimate sources, but she would do well to take more chances and risks and step out of her comfort zone. Someone may take advantage of that fear someday. Saffron is incredibly selfish. This doesn't manifest in the most commonly identifiable ways, however, so people don't realize it at a glance. But because of her fearful nature, she puts her own self-preservation first. She is kind, yes, but her kindness will play second fiddle if she herself comes under threat. We will see more of this from her in time. Last but not least, Saffron is greedy. Her greed is informed by her fear and her selfishness, and at times her fear tampers her greed, making her hesitant to reach out a hand and take...but underneath it all, and as Doflamingo called out early into their relationship, Saffron is an avaricious woman with a voracious appetite. Once again, these appetites are informed by her hungry, destitute past. If she can take a second helping, keen on staving off hunger despite being full right now, she will. And this will get her intro trouble soon enough. Her greed is a response to trauma, but that doesn't make it right.

🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional?

Saffron will swear logic rules her. She is an engineer. An inventor. A tradesman with a meticulous record log and keen organizational skills. Her work requires a logical mind and rigorous attention to detail. But Saffron in this claim, would be lying both to you, and to herself. And her inability to realize this is all the proof you need to know emotion drives her every move.

#one piece #yu yu hakusho #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #yyh #yyh fanfic #yyh fanfiction #yamato rei #isabella saffron #the grasp of gilded strings #the sight unseen #oddmawd fanfic #mawd's fanfics #yu yu hakusho oc #one piece oc #details about ocs ask meme

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penig · 2 years

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I have to be an optimist to get out of bed every morning, so I had been telling myself that maybe my memory of wanting to choke the men in Dracula and bang all their heads together was exaggerated and the situation would be better than I recall.

Nope. No it isn’t. It’s actually slightly worse than I remember. Sigh.

Primarily, this is Stoker’s fault. He wants to ramp up the tension again by threatening Mina, so he makes the characters stupider than they need to be and than they have been shown to be before now.

We can also blame the Patriarchy for conditioning them all, including Mina, who tries to convince herself that it’s okay for men to be protective and that this is all this is. Protecting women and children is basically what men are for, after all - women and children are where society is actually happening and men are supposed to free them up to do the growing and further-life-making and such. The notion that enforcing ignorance is part of protection, and that knowing the worst is somehow worse than lying awake at night imagining the worst in a vacuum is an assumption still made today - and is just as destructive and dangerous today as it was then. Mina and Jonathan, at least, really should know better.

I can actually find a psychological justification for Jonathan cooperating in the silence, on the grounds that he is keeping from Mina what he wishes to avoid himself. His voice in his diary is calm - a little too calm - he has walked again into Dracula’s keep and is refusing to examine his own feelings on the matter, presumably because if he does he’ll be risking a full-blown panic attack and he certainly doesn’t want to do that in this setting at this time. What he feels he can’t hold back from doing he can at least not re-experience by telling Mina, which is a very bad decision and deep down I think he knows it.

I can cut Seward some slack on not letting Renfield out, too. The man is dangerous and slippery and has had sudden reverses of temperament before. If he would just speak a little more clearly (there’s that theme of clear communication again) maybe they’d realize that the sane human part of him is making a last-ditch effort to keep the life-greedy insane part of him from inviting Dracula into the asylum. But he doesn’t speak more clearly, Seward has demonstrated his inability to synthesize data of this kind, and nobody else does here, either. The reader can clearly see that accepting the offer to let him go with attendants - letting him go and following him - would be the best solution, but from the characters’ point of view the irregularity of letting a homicidal maniac check himself out in the wee hours of the morning, with no obvious place to go, must seem like an impossibility.

I actually feel bad for Renfield here. He doesn’t know what Seward et al know about Dracula and presumably what he himself knows about Dracula and the opposition mounted against him stems mostly from overheard snippets of asylum gossip and Dracula himself. If Seward doesn’t know about vampires, telling him the truth - a man made of mist and bats is promising me life eternal if I’ll let him in and I think accepting the offer would go very badly for everyone but me, but I can’t resist the offer forever - is the one sure way to never get out.

One thing that occurs to me now, which didn’t when I first read it, is that Mina might be pregnant. Van Helsing hinted at the idea - in an oblique way that a modern reader inexperienced in reading Victorians can be excused for overlooking. (I have scanned for it but can’t find the line to quote it, and can’t remember exactly when it happened. It should be in one of Seward’s entries of the last three days.) I thought he was referring only to the possibility being one that is unavoidable in married women in a time without reliable birth control, but today from the way everyone is treating her and the way she submits to the silent treatment and is so much more emotional than usual, I think she is showing early signs that everyone is too delicate to mention openly even in their journals. This is a time when women were using codes and coy euphemisms to track their cycles and record their own and their friends reproductive status in the diaries they never expected anyone else to read, after all. Trying not to discuss agitating subjects in front of the pregnant lady is, on the face of it, simply manners - in most situations. That it’s counterproductive here doesn’t change anybody’s reflexive behavior.

If she is, I wonder if Dracula can smell it on her? Because she’s a tempting enough target as a revenge strike; as a pregnant woman bursting with life in addition, she would be irresistible.

I suppose, at a stretch, even without that I can even excuse Mina’s not relating her experiences with disordered sleep directly as the result of sleep deprivation and post-hypnotic suggestion. Still, Mina is smart enough to recognize the threat and the similarity to Lucy’s experience, and it’s frustrating that she doesn’t.

Arthur and Quincy are simply falling into their lord-of-the-manor and macho-Texan patriarchal roles, and I could kick them for it. (Quincy shooting at the bat in the middle of London is the sort of thing that only a Texan abroad could get away with - he couldn’t do it at home, and he couldn’t do it if he were an Englishman, but a Texan in England can get away with anything if he drawls about it with a straight face afterward and yeah, as a Texan, I approve. Incidentally it must be a very torpid bat to get shot, or an impossibly lucky sharpshooter to shoot a bat out of the air, so it’s no wonder he missed)

Mostly, however, Stoker is going the idiot plot route and I blame him soundly for it.

#dracula daily #patriarchy #idiot plot #Mina #the silent treatment

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