lacucarachapisser

[lacucarachapisser]

at any given moment

[lacucarachapisser]

Thinking you could live without me...

fluff? wtv, but you and colin broke off your relationship of almost a year.

It was nothing new when you and Colin argued over silly things, but the last few months were just exhausting...or maybe just for him, because for you? honestly no. If it were up to you, you would simply fight for the relationship, but it seems like Colin just wanted an excuse to break things off with you.

And the worst of all? You and he worked in the same place with separate offices but constant glances in all the rooms of the station.

And yes, you helped him get a better position than the one he was in, and he paid you back by giving in? By giving in? I mean, you didn't expect anything more than real love between the two of you, and you didn't force him either... but he seemed to feel nothing anymore and that had really made you sad. You cried at night when you heard the music that reminded you of him, or even saw the photos of the two of you that you still kept in your photo gallery.

Did he feel the same way? No idea, you just knew that when you turned to look at him he would just ignore you or avoid looking at you, creating a big lump in your throat and making you cry in secret from the women's bathroom at the station; thank goodness no one knew.

This time, everyone was called to a meeting because the December holidays were approaching and the expected thing was to finish everything and have that time free. The chief entered almost last with Colin following behind, you tried to avoid looking at him but the horrible thing was feeling his aroma enter your nostrils... your stomach simply twisted. And it was that, even though you wanted to avoid looking at him, he sat right in front of you, and his gaze could have looked somewhere else, but as if he knew how you felt... he looked at you.

His dark brown eyes directly scanned your face and then looked at the chief trying to pay attention but then looked back at you, and you couldn't take it, you just looked at him the same, he shook his head and looked at the chief...again ignoring you.

was it so hard for him to keep eye contact with you? all you wanted was to... go back in time to when he would tell you to sit next to him, and you would hold hands and look at each other whispering stupid things and not paying attention to the meetings.

but he looked so good without you, that you even doubted that he would ever be with you.

...

Everyone was leaving the meeting room and you were the last to leave. Colin was standing in the hallway using his phone, and instead of continuing on your way, you simply walked up to him, clearing your throat to get his attention. What did he do? He just looked up at you and then at his phone.

"avoiding me?" You asked, sighing a little and looking around until it was just the two of you there, Colin shook his head and frowned.

"No, I've just been busy, you know. Working," he said, still using his phone.

"can you...put down your phone?" You said trying to at least have a conversation without technology around, but he annoyed lowered his phone and put it in his pants pocket.

"Listen y/n, we don't have to talk 24/7, okay? We broke up two months ago. Get over it" he told you, and you knew something was wrong, why would he talk to you like that? you two never had a bad relationship.

"Colin- you avoid me... you avoid what we had for almost a year, I can't believe you're so cold" you said confused and got closer to him but he backed away.

"It's not being cold, y/n, it's being mature" he said and raised his eyebrows. "You're nice, and I honestly loved being with you...but, can't we, you know? We don't have time and I lost interest a while ago."

"Colin you're being completely immature right now, ignoring me, not even looking at me! Tell me... did I do something wrong or-" but before you said anything he interrupted you.

"No! Just leave me alone okay? She texted me again" he told you pausing at the end, and you felt your body cold.

oh wow, so his ex fiancée came back.

You just looked at him and took a step back, he sighed and leaned his head against the wall, then looked at you.

"I'm sorry. But... I don't know, she drives me crazy." he said looking at you hoping that wasn't hard for you, but shit it was, what did he expect?

You couldn't cry, no, not now, and besides, you didn't feel like it, maybe it was just the anger you felt now.

"I literally helped you get to where you are right now! Otherwise you'd be just some damn detective, you used me!?" You yelled at him but he frowned at you.

"no" he shook his head making you chuckle bitterly.

"yeah, right"

You nodded and looked away, then at the ground and your lips trembled.

He noticed how you felt and that made him feel bad in the end, but his reasons? Yes, they were different.

No, his ex didn't text him again, he just said that so you wouldn't ask any more questions. Did he miss you? Yes, Did he used you? Never.

The reason was that he was threatened during one of his investigations, and he not only distanced himself from you, but also from his family... he only wanted to protect them. Protect you. And the worst part? He had bought you an engagement ring and he couldn't give it to you until he solved the damn case... and if he didn't, he would see you with someone else.

but he couldn't let you know because you wouldn't give a shit and you would want to be with him, but you came first...before him.

"Leave my house keys in my office. I have to go."

That's what he told you, and you sniffed, looking away so as not to look at him, your eyes red, he couldn't see you like that, that's why he preferred to leave right now.

He raised his hand a little, wanting to touch you, but he promised himself something...something that would hurt you more than him: if he didn't touch you, it would hurt him less not to be able to be with you now.

He backed off and left you alone, with your emotions melting your heart, you hated him, you hated the lie he told you...and because of that, now you hated his ex more.

[lacucarachapisser]

what do you think each of the evan’s wear to bed?

(i was trying to imagine what JPM would wear to bed and was stumped lmao)

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… sleepwear .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march‧ kai anderson ‧ rory monahan ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel

a/n: ty for the req !! so fun to write tbh

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate’s sleepwear is very 90s boy-next-door. half the time, he’s in those vintage-looking striped tees—horizontal stripes in muted colors, the kind that might seem kinda baby-ish now but somehow work on him. baby boy. the rest of the time, it’s a band tee, nirvana or the smashing pumpkins. for bottoms, he’ll either grab his track & field shorts (you know, the short ones that look kinda fruity) or a pair of boxers. if it’s hot, he’ll ditch the shirt completely. on colder days, he’s in one of those sweaters paired with green checkered pyjama pants.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

kit’s all about practicality. hot weather? briefs. nothing else. he’s not into anything restrictive or fancy when he’s sleeping. when it’s colder, he might throw on some soft flannel pajama pants and a white undershirt, but only if it’s freezing.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle’s sleepwear usually includes an old college club tee—something from a campus event or charity run—or a nerdy sci-fi shirt with marvel, star wars, or star trek designs. for bottoms, it’s always something cozy, like well-worn sweatpants or flannel pyjama bottoms, usually in neutral or plaid patterns. his clothes always smell nice because he’s that guy who uses fabric softener religiously and actually knows how to do laundry properly.

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

wife-beater and boxers, no questions asked. he’s the type to sleep in just his boxers most of the year because he doesn’t see the point in layering up unless it’s absolutely freezing. when the weather does turn colder, he’ll trade the tank for a plain button-down.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james wouldn’t dare wear anything less than a matching set of black silk pajamas, tailored to fit him perfectly. the initials “J.P.M.” are embroidered in silver thread on the pocket because, of course, he’s that extra. to complete the look, he has a matching silk robe—also black, with a silver trim. probably has a nightcap too.

⟢ 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐍.

“actor off-duty” typa fit. his go-to is a plain, perfectly-fitted t-shirt (you’d think it’s basic, but it’s actually some high-end brand like james perse) paired with plain sweatpants. if it’s getting chilly, he’d swap the tee for a well-worn hoodie, but even that’s designer, probably with a well-hidden logo no one notices unless they know fashion. cashmere socks because his feet get cold in winter. rory’s all about comfort, but it’s the kind of comfort only a celeb with a fat paycheck can pull off.

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would 100% sleep shirtless, wearing those loose, low-slung grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips, showing off that delicious v-line because. he a whore. when it’s cold, though, he’s layering up with a sweater or plain hoodie—the kind a tech bro would wear without a second thought. or black thermal shirt paired with fleece joggers.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin’s sleepwear is all about luxury. he’d wear a high-end silk robe, probably from something like tom ford or balenciaga, in sleek b & w pinstripes or a classy paisley print. It’s the kind of robe that looks expensive without being flashy—tasteful, refined, and just a little bit sexy. he’d leave it slightly open at the chest, showing off just a sliver of his pale skin (scandalous! what a slut!). he’s also got matching slippers, and an eye mask for when he needs to block out sunlight.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌��𝐅𝐅.

he’s got a collection of band tees that double as sleepwear, (pink floyd or rush). then, of course, there are those absurdly dorky graphic tees that are so bad they’re good—like the “nacho average guy” with a cartoon taco or a random graphic of a turtle. peter’s pyjama bottoms are often cartoony and childish. think patterns like cartoon superheroes, or those old-school looney tunes characters. they’re soft and comfy, of course.

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

simple and comfy. he’d throw on a plain cotton shirt and wear boxers. when it’s warmer, he’s in boxers, but when the temperature drops, he’s switching to a long-sleeve thermal shirt to stay warm. his pajama bottoms are a staple—those brown, white, and black checkered plaid ones, they’re slightly worn in from frequent use, but he looooves that soft, lived-in feeling.

[lacucarachapisser]

You guys want to play a game? REBLOG and put in the tags why you follow this person

[lacucarachapisser]

[lacucarachapisser]

yall istg they’re the same person

[lacucarachapisser]

𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙛 (𝙡𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Luke tries to cheer you up on a bad day. Spoiler: it’s clumsy, annoying, and oddly sweet.

tags n warnings: fluff, brief bullying, (legal) age gap, and lil mommy kink. word count: 1.1k

Your day started horribly. Scratch that, it was the absolute worst.

It all began because your alarm didn’t go off on time, and being late was practically the cardinal sin in your office. Worse, this was the third time. The first? Your motorcycle broke down. The second? The bus was late. And now? You were already 15 minutes behind and would be walking into the office a whole 40 minutes late.

Why was that such a big deal? Because Michael Scott always made it his mission to embarrass you with some over-the-top joke—often with Dwight’s enthusiastic assistance. Yep, it was shaping up to be one of those days.

Throwing on a jacket, you rushed out the door, snagging a quick snack to eat on the bus. As you downed the last sip of coffee, the universe delivered its cruelest blow: the bus broke down just two blocks from the office. "Thank God I wore sneakers today," you muttered before taking off at a jog.

“Guess who’s late again!” Michael’s voice rang out the moment you stepped through the doors. His arms spread wide like he was announcing a guest on The Price is Right. “Our very own cheerleader for Team ‘Laters.’ Get it? Like Lakers, but...you know, late!”

“I get it,” you puffed, forcing a smile and trying to steady your breath. “Can I sit down now?”

“Sure, but—”

“No,” Dwight cut in, standing up with his hands on his hips like a sheriff in an old western. “Also, I’m out of paper.”

“Then go get some,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Oh no, that’s a job for the laters, isn’t it, Michael?” Dwight arched an eyebrow at his boss.

“Uh…yeah?” Michael hesitated, then shrugged. “The paper’s in the—”

“I know where it is,” you cut him off, trying to stay polite but firm.

As you walked past Pam, she mouthed an apologetic “sorry.” You gave her a small smile and whispered, “It’s fine,” even though it wasn’t. After dropping your bag and coat at your desk with a heavy sigh, you barely had time to collect yourself before Jim leaned over with a shy smile, a pen balanced between his teeth.

“Need a hand?” he whispered. “Pam can keep Dwight busy, and I’ve been itching to try something new on him.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” you whispered back, smiling at the thoughtfulness. “Besides, I could use some quiet time…away from, you know, them.”

Jim nodded with mock solemnity. “Fair point. Good luck in the trenches.”

The annex was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the vending machine. As you poured a fresh cup of coffee, you heard the door creak open. Turning, you were met with Luke Cooper’s familiar smirk. Just great—Michael’s lazy, bratty nephew. Exactly who you didn’t need to see right now.

“Hey,” Luke greeted, shoving his hands into his pockets as he strolled over.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “What do you want, Luke? I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Ouch.” He feigned a hurt expression, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye remained. “I just wanted to say hi. No need to get all feisty.”

“What do you want, Luke?” you asked, not even turning around. “Just say it, goddamn.”

“Oh, somebody woke up grumpy,” he teased, sidling up next to you.

You took a slow sip of coffee, willing yourself not to strangle him. “Luke, I swear, if you’re about to pull one of your stupid pranks—"

“Me? A prank? Never.” His smirk widened.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a box of paper and started toward the door. Of course, Luke trailed behind like a particularly annoying shadow.

“Why are you following me?” you demanded.

“Because I’m bored,” he replied simply. “Angela’s desk was a dead end. No dirt. You’re way more entertaining.”

“Why don’t you help me with these boxes?” you suggested, gesturing to the heavy stacks.

He gave them a glance and made a face, sticking out his bottom lip in an adorable irritating pout. “And what do I get in return?”

“Uhm… I dunno, what about nothing?,” you snapped, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe the satisfaction of actually working for once?”

Luke let out a mock gasp. “Wow. You sound just like my mom.”

Your patience snapped. “Listen, kid, I bust my ass every day in this place. I squeeze onto overcrowded buses, deal with your uncle’s antics, and somehow manage not to lose it. The least you could do is—”

“Whoa, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he teased, stepping closer with that infuriating grin. “But, hey…you’re kinda cute when you’re mad, wanna go out? I know just the place to lit you up, mommy.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now? Mommy?”

“Very, mommy.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself, throwing a tempting wink at you. 

That was the last straw. Throwing your hands in the air, you turned back to the boxes. “You know what? Forget it."

Before you could grab one, Luke caught your wrist gently, pulling you to face him. His tone shifted. “Hey, hey. Don’t be like that. I was just messing with you.”

“Well, congrats,” you snapped, yanking your hand away. “You succeeded in making me mad.”

For the first time, his smirk faltered. He stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…you seemed down. I thought I could...you know, cheer you up. Guess I’m not great at that.”

His words made you pause. You sighed, guilt settling in. “It’s not that, Luke. I’m just…having a terrible day.”

Without a word, he bent down and grabbed a box, hoisting it easily onto his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmured, surprised.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice softer.“Seriously, don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, and for the first time all day, it wasn’t forced. “And sorry for snapping. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Luke shrugged, his usual confidence returning. “No big deal. I’m used to being everyone’s punching bag.”

“Hey,” you said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not just some kid to push around.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “Thanks. But, uh…you kinda sound like a grandma right now.”

You chuckled, finally relaxing. “Well, I am older than you.”

“I like older women,” he quipped, winking. “Mommy kink, you notice? Very sexy.” 

Rolling your eyes, you pinched his cheek. “Brat. Now come on, let’s get this over with before your uncle finds a new way to torment me.”

As you walked back to the main office, Luke’s voice trailed behind you. “Hey, if I survive irritating Michael, will you go out with me?”

You smirked, not looking back. “7 PM. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wait, seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you laugh as you walk ahead. 

From behind you, you could hear him muttering, “Best day ever.” The sound of him tripping over his own feet made you laugh for the first time all day. Luke wasn't the reason for your anger, but he knew damn well how to dissipate it. 

[lacucarachapisser]

the feminine urge to succumb to the darkness. the feminine urge to let him in.

[lacucarachapisser]

[lacucarachapisser]

you will live and you will say the wrong things and make mistakes and people will love you anyways.

[lacucarachapisser]

Five more minutes..

Collin Zabel x Reader

Tags: New Year’s Eve, late night work, officer!reader, Zabel’s partner at work, fluff, sleepy Colin, pretty short

A/n: I only had a one person read this and it might be a little shit but idk I thought it was cute even if it’s a little rushed

You’d been on the steak out for fifteen hours and Collin was getting restless. Being away from his house for so long tended to drive him crazy and you knew just how weird he could get. “How come they keep getting away?” He was reviewing the file again, and again, you couldn’t take it anymore. His instant rambles about this detail or the other, but it was all that had been soothing him. “Let me…” he reread the address again, and his face went pale. His eyes stiffly turned to you, followed by his head, “What was the address you said we were supposed to watch, again?”

You huffed, frustrated by his asking, “Why? Questioning my reading skills, detective?” Your face pulled into a sour frown, “East St. Queen’s street, 13986.” Your eyes met his and you went pale too. “….why.. are you questioning my reading skills…” your faces turned awkward.

“Yes. Yes I am … questioning your reading skills.” He grit his teeth as he spoke and dragged his finger up to the address on file. Your eyes followed his finger as it landed just below West st. Queen’s street. “You are very lucky you’re so pretty.” He pinched between his eyes and took a deep breath, picking up his radio and dialing into the station’s frequency, “this is Detective Zabel,” …. “Yeah.. yeah. We’re on the other side of town. Give this case to someone else, I’m going home.” He sighed, putting his radio down and stretching. He put the car into reverse and pulled out of the abandoned lot you had been waiting in, headed down to the high way and back to the precinct to get into his own car.

As you pulled onto the highway and into the bustling traffic, he put a hand on your thigh, rubbing circles onto your skin through your uniform. “I’m sorry, Co- detective..” you took hold of his hand and intertwined your fingers gently, “it was a foolish mistake, it won’t happen again.” Colin sighed, thumb still tracing as he drove silently down the highway.

Once back at the precinct Colin opened your door and you both went back inside, he plopped the keys to the borrowed car back into his locker and returned the case file to his boss before clocking out. You followed in suit, clocking out and changing back into your civilian clothes, Colin blushed when he saw your outfit. It was his favorite, and the colors brought attention to your eyes in a way he always fell for. “Wow..” he whispered it, as if anything louder would cause you to disappear, “you look.. astonishing..” he took your hand and the two of you left for home.

“I can’t believe it’s almost New Year.” Your attention was on the road but your mind was elsewhere, thinking about what was going to be made, who’s family you’d see, and so on, “just four hours til 2025” you waited for a response, turning to look at him when you finally came to a stop light. He was asleep, eyes fluttering and mouth slightly open, he looked peaceful. Almost angelic in the dim sunlight shinning through the windshield. “You’re a goof..” you sighed out, and sat the rest of the car ride home in silence.

You gently shook Colin after pulling into the driveway of your abode, he groaned with every shake eyes squeezing shut as he fought you to just sleep in the car. “Stop, lemme..” his words were slurred and lazy, the hours straight staring at the same building must have worn him out. “Mmnnhh..” his eyes opened slightly as he slumped up, “okay..” he yawned, “I’m going..” you helped him up the steps to your bedroom and before you could even suggest taking off his shoes, he flopped down and fell right back asleep.

You chuckled, untying his shoes and placing them at the door before getting yourself into pajamas and climbing into bed with him. “Honey… “he trailed off, wrapping an arm around your waist as you settled against the bed frame, “..milk..” you turned the TV on, flicking until you landed on the last two hours of the Law and Order marathon before the channels switched over and the count down started. Colin was tossing in his sleep, grabbing at you with a twisted look on his face as he grumbled and relaxed; you pet his hair, smoothing and combing the knots and fly aways as you cooed and hushed him.

The hours passed quickly with each episode until 11:59 was painted the TV screen and your crime show became the bustling streets of New York. You shook at Colin for the second time that night, and his eyes opened lazily as he recognized the time on the television. He looked slightly horrified as he stared at the counting numbers 11:59:23, he shot up, scrambling out of the bed and dashing to the kitchen. 11:59:35 “shit!” He exclaimed, you could hear his pounding feet searching the apartment. You giggled at his frustration, 11:59:45, he came back into the bedroom. He was exasperated and tore through his bedside dresser. 10! The tv called out, “Baby.” he was sweaty, out of breath, 9! You turned to him, down on one knee on his side of the bed, your eyes widened. 8!

“Colin..” your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest. 7! The tv called out, “what’s .. what’re you doing?” He just smiled at you, knowingly. 6! His eyes were soft and expectant , 5! “Colin I’m serious.” You smiled too, heart and stomach awake with butterflies.

4! “Will you, please,” 3! He chuckled, “make me the happiest man in the world..” 2! His eyes met yours, “and marry me?” 1! The tv was ablaze with light as the ball fell, fireworks outside startled you into reality as Colin pulled out and popped open a small box.

You smiled, tears filling your eyes, “Yes!! Of course I will.”

——-

My bad guys this probably sucks but I wanted to put something out for new years and this was all I could think of!!

[lacucarachapisser]

New Year's Eve

James Patrick March x fem!reader

requested by @envy-of-greed Warnings: implied harassment, murder, smut

The ballroom echoed with laughter as guests mingled, the champagne flowing like water as everyone toasted to a successful year at the Hotel Cortez. Among the sea of smiling faces, you stood out - your radiant smile captivating even James March, the infamous owner of the hotel himself.

While James Patrick March had been around for centuries, there was something about your innocence and sweet nature that drew him in. He cherished your naivety, finding it a refreshing change from the cynicism that often accompanied those of his own kind.

But his love was tempered with caution, a consideration for your purity and innocence. He had always been patient, allowing the relationship to grow slowly, never wanting to rush you into anything you weren’t comfortable with.

As you danced together, James's arms encircling your waist, you couldn't help but notice the way the dim lighting accentuated his chiseled features and those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you. Despite your own innocence, there was something undeniably sensual about him, a quiet confidence that exuded power.

“I’ll go get us more drinks” James murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sliding his arms off you and walking away.

You decide to use the moment to go to the ladies room. After taking one last look in the mirror you exit the restroom, jolting when you see a man right by the doorway.

James has grabbed two champagne glasses and is now walking around, searching for his infatuation. He can’t find you in the ballroom so he walks out into the hall. When he spots you, he drops the champagne, glass shattering onto the floor.

The creepy man is now dead, laying on his back and bleeding out from his chest.

James stood behind her, watching in awe as she turned towards him, her eyes wide, the shock of what she had just done still fresh on her face. For the first time, he saw her as more than just a pretty face; he saw strength, resilience, and courage. That realization sparked something within him, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing moment. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, whispering words of reassurance and pride.

“I… I..”

“Shh, it’s alright darling” James whispers into your ear. He slowly places sensual kisses down your neck. “We’ll get this mess taken care of”

Once the body’s been dealt with, James eagerly takes you to his suite. Shutting the door, he slams your back onto it and hungrily kisses your neck. “You… are absolutely… ravishing”

“J- James” you say breathlessly, closing your eyes.

James grabs your waist and you hop, wrapping your legs around his torso. Without removing his mouth from your neck, he turns around and walks to the king bed. Slowly lowering you onto the mattress, he finally pulls away and starts sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

His hand, strong and confident, reached out to grasp your knee, spreading your leg apart and opening you to his gaze.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear. "I've never loved anyone like I love you."

You blush, your eyes fluttering closed as you feel his hand slide beneath the hem of your dress, his fingers tracing the outline of your thighs. "I love you too," you whisper back, your voice trembling with desire.

As he worked his way upwards, his touch became more deliberate, his fingers probing and teasing, seeking out the soft folds of your cunt. Your legs spread wider, granting him access as he delved deeper, finding the sensitive bud nestled within your folds.

He hums in satisfaction, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. He rips off your dress and with a gentle tug, pulls you to your hands and knees, positioning you to face the mirror. His gaze, still piercing, remained locked on yours through the reflection, drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh.

"You look stunning," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. "So beautiful, so perfect."

Your blush deepens, your nipples hardening as you feel his warm breath caress your neck. His mouth followed suit, leaving trails of fire across your skin as he claims your throat, his tongue darting out to taste your pulse point.

And then, without warning, he quickly unzips his pants and pulls down his underwear before plunging into you, his thick length stretching your velvety walls wide as he begins to pump furiously, driving you toward release. Your screams echo through the room, mingling with his grunts of effort as he loses himself in the rhythm of their lovemaking.

When finally he stilled, collapsing besides you, panting heavily, you opened your eyes to find him staring intently at you once again. "That was splendid," he breathed, his voice hoarse with exertion.

"More?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat.

A wicked smile creeps across his face. "Oh yes."

@marchsfreakshow @misscherrys-world @theswanqu22n @evanpetersbf @milkdahmer @strawb3rrystar @dearlizzies @cameronwillow @serialkilluh-1996 @tiffysdeath @oneandonlyizabelle @violetsghosts @american-horror-whore @mistysconcilium @bohnerrific69 @icedheartss @jamesthetrans @strangegirl2007 @taintandviolent @mybowesandarrows @evanpeterswifeyyy @vizjpmdose @temporarywelcome @missjadesficsreblog @missjadesfics @lacucarachapisser @tatelangdonsweater

dividers by @strangergraphics

[lacucarachapisser]

The Other Type Of Drug [Warren Lipka]

Angst / fluff

You met Warren once in a 7/11, but you couldn't find him anywhere after that evening, no matter how hard you tried to search.

Reference to Heathers :3

Everyone pray to Ke$ha for being a lyrical genius. Because aaarrghh<33 (I'm so self indulgent in this I'm sorry)

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"you gonna get a coke or something?" He asked.

"Mm...No, but if you're nice I'll let you buy me a slushie." You chuckled, looking over your shoulder to immediately flirt with the stranger by your side.

"Ah, Heathers. Right?"

"A man of taste." You spun on a heel to look at him. Fuck. He was definitely your type. You could probably get lost and dizzy in those eyes if you weren't careful. Like you were ever careful in the first place. "It's my favourite movie."

He hummed and just nodded. The both of you hung on a slightly awkward silence before he nodded towards the slushie machine. "Let's get you that slushie yeah?"

You couldn't find the stranger after that evening. He got your name. "Y'know, you're the only person I've met who's name fits them to a T." So confident and cocky. It had your stomach and heart fluttering. He said it like he had met loads of other people with your name before. Honestly? The way he talked, he could've. Spoke in a well travelled voice, looked like it. His clothes were, well they were probably thrift store. A cute parka and a well fitting Hawaiian shirt. Oh you had plenty of those hidden away somewhere. Maybe you had the same.

Maybe you could've worn it one day, walk down the street and spot him in the same shirt. You start a conversation over it. Become friends, watch movies. Get high and place your hands over his- woah! Let's slow down there. You only spoke to him for about 5 minutes, then he got in his car and drove away. Leaving you with questions you wish you could've asked him.

"...No I don't." Your roommate answered. In a bout of neediness and missing the stranger, you asked around, seeing if anyone knew him.

"Nah he doesn't sound familiar." A classmate answered.

"hm, doesn't sound like anyone I know." A barista at the coffee shop in the college campus answered.

"...Yea I do. He's Warren. Been my friend since like forever." Another classmate answered. You barely knew Spencer, but you regularly asked eachother questions and occasionally saw him at parties. There. Warren. Warren Lipka. "Why do you ask?"

"Saw him at a 7/11 near my place. We, flirted a little. Bought me a slushie." A little shrug of your shoulders as you reminiscenced of the evening you and Warren had butted heads for a good 10 minutes. Spencer just had a small smile on his face, knowing exactly what Warren was doing and his friend's type. "So, can I take his number from you?"

Spencer looked slightly surprised at you for a second, before his eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, sure?" His confusion just made you smile. "You talk about him like you're addicted to him or something."

Oh. Shit. Well, that wouldn't be how you described it. Sure you liked him but there was no way you could've been addicted after about 10 minutes of conversation in a quiet 7/11. You just couldn't stop thinking about his face, and the way his curls laid against his neck, and the way his eyes were almost always half lidded, and...yeah okay that's bad. "Well..." You trailed off, nibbling on the corner of your lip. It was sort of the truth, but you weren't fully ready to accept that fact to yourself.

Spencer just huffed a smirk and found a spare bit of paper in his notebook, scribbling Warren's number along with his full name. "Thanks Spencer."

"Course."

You could've sworn you saw Warren multiple times around campus. But it always someone else. Someone who looked like Warren, wearing clothes similar to the ones he wore that one evening. God, what was this stranger doing to you? At what point do you call it a freak obsession and try to leave it alone? Obviously, you attempted to do that. After pussying out multiple times, you still couldn't find the confidence to shoot Warren a text or a call. What would you even say?

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. His face was starting to get hazy in your mind when you went over the memories. For the past 10 minutes you had been staring at your phone, wondering what to text Warren. A random pick up line? Nah that's too cheesy. This was infuriating! Why couldn't you just say hello to the man? He's human too! A completely regular huma-

Spence gave me ur #

And u r?

Warren. That guy from the 711

Oh. Fuck. Okay. This was fine. Completely fine. You got this. Fuck what do you say now?? Well he brought it up first...

Ah, yea. Hi. <3

The two of you texted for about 5 minutes before he stopped replying to you. Desperation took over again and you wanted to call. Dick whipped for a man you hadn't even kissed. Too pussy to call a man you wanted to see atleast once again. This feeling was insane, and god you wanted more of that high. Some kind of never ending chase where Warren knew you wanted him. Not even in a sexual way. You just wanted his presence. His smell and his eyes. Fuck.

It had been a week, and Warren still hadn't texted you back. Had you called him yet? Fuck no! What if he picked up and forgot you? Told you off for annoying him because he didn't know you. God...you felt..no you were starved. Throwing yourself into college work and a hook up here, and there. Boys who only slightly looked like Warren and smoked some weed with you once they came on your chest. Damn. Who were you? Lunging at people who looked like a guy you'd probably never see again.

You were thinking about it, a forgotten joint against your lips, a shitty romcom on the TV. Then the door went. Groggily, you got up and headed to the door, sleep wavering in the corners of your eyes. Opening the door, you blinked. "Hey Heather." He joked.

Your response was obvious as Warren stepped into your small apartment. "Hey JD."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @cameronwillow / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @marchs-hummingbird @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser @saintlucretia / @milkdahmer / @xrag-dollx / @evansroses

[lacucarachapisser]

What is a random headcanons you have of Kai? Like the type of headcanons that would make him seem really human and not like he's constantly a murderer or psychopathic.

KAI ANDERSON // headcanons

a/n: here goes.. but i fear he’s just as fucked up bc i was trying to be realistic ya know

judges people by their handshakes. a weak grip disgusts him, and he’ll never respect someone with gross clammy hands.

watches old footage of leaders like hitler, stalin, or jfk to study their body language, hand movements. kai practices in front of a mirror until it feels natural. every gesture he makes while speaking is rehearsed. the way he waves his hands, points, or clenches his fists is meant to manipulate emotions.

practices subtle gestures (touching someone’s shoulder, making intense eye contact) to make people subconsciously trust him.

enjoys watching true crime documentaries and infodumps about jonestown or heaven’s gate.

remembers oddly specific details about people but weaponises them later in arguments.

thrives on debates, especially when he can dominate someone intellectually. he’ll derail conversations just to win, even if it’s about the dumbest shit like the best way to eat a subway sandwich.

has entire passages of nietzsche and shakespeare memorized, knows random latin phrases and sprinkles them into conversations to seem cultured.

hates losing at anything—he’ll rage quit a game of monopoly if it’s not going his way.

when fixated on something—a person, an idea, or a goal—he becomes consumed by it. spends hours researching or strategising, often at the expense of his health.

has casually invested in bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies. checks his coinbase and binance accounts obsessively. has strong opinions about dogecoin being a joke.

occasionally reads self-help books.

his library consists mostly of power-centric books. his favourites include the prince by machiavelli, the 48 laws of power by robert greene, the art of war by sun tzu, and nietzsche’s thus spoke zarathustra. also delves into russian literature like dostoevsky’s notes from underground and tolstoy’s war and peace.

collects super offensive internet memes in a private folder. posts pepe memes on 4chan ironically but secretly thinks they’re funny.

leaves people on read for hours, just because.

desensitised himself to gore.

swings between grandiosity (believing he’s destined for greatness) and crippling self-doubt (thinking he’s fundamentally unlovable)

loves gta, rdr2 and civilization VI. played cod religiously in his incel days.

follows elon musk on x (formerly known as twitter) and admires him as a disruptor of society. or maybe it’s a tech bro thing idk. retweets his memes but also calls him a sellout for pandering to the masses.

loathes andrew tate for his shallow and illogical takes but agrees with 10% of his misogynistic rhetoric.

posts inflammatory tweets that toe the line between radicalism and satire, carefully wording them to avoid getting banned.

an avid user of letterboxd. some of his reviews are super scathing—but for some reason, they always blow up. he’d open the app to find that his hate review on la la land got 7.2k likes. screenshot compilations circulate on reddit and instagram.

his letterboxd favourites are: american psycho, fight club, the social network and the matrix (all 5 star ratings)—but claims he likes them for their philosophical depth.

his favourite show is mr. robot, saying elliot alderson is “the closest thing to a genius on tv.” he also likes the twilight zone and breaking bad.

obsessed with eminem—he’s been a fan ever since d-12. the marshall mathers lp are his go-to rage anthems. thinks lose yourself is the pinnacle of motivational music.

thinks kanye west is a misunderstood genius and frequently defends him online.

uses dark mode on every device.

apple loyalist. owns a macbook, iphone, and airpods because he appreciates their sleek and minimalistic design. calls android users “peasants.”

never charges his phone until it has like 2% left.

brilliant with tech—can hack into nearly anything. knows how to code in several languages, always staying on top of the latest tech trends and occasionally contributes to dark web forums.

builds custom pcs for fun. dabbles in coding and hacking. knows how to create computer viruses.

used to spend wayyy too much time on forums like 4chan, r/RedPill, r/foreveralone and r/incels, though he’s mostly active on subreddits like r/iamverybadass, and r/unpopularopinion. also lurks r/atheism just to mock people with religion.

frequently visits r/AmITheAsshole to judge people, always siding with the “bad guy.” bro has the potential to be a criminal defense lawyer that the DA despises.

lowkey obsessed with angelina jolie, specifically from her tomb raider days. probably has a pinup poster stashed somewhere in his room.

uses arctic fox’s poseidon blue hair dye.

firmly believes in the efficiency of 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo, and conditioner.

wears dior sauvage because it’s “masculine but sophisticated.” probably bought it after seeing johnny depp in an ad.

when he’s in a mood, kai loves sneaking up on people to startle them. he’s perfected the art of standing silently in doorways until someone notices.

prefers dogs because they’re trainable, loyal, and trusting on their owner. in other words they are easy to manipulate and control.

constantly rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. it’s both a habit and a way to intimidate people.

his lust for power stems from feeling powerless in his youth, particularly after witnessing his father’s abuse to his mother and the lack of control he had over the situation.

struggles to process complex emotions like guilt, shame, or empathy. often suppresses them or redirects them into rage.

finds it almost impossible to open up emotionally unless it’s to manipulate someone.

criticism, even minor, eats away at him. he’ll stew over it for days, replaying it in his head while devising ways to “prove them wrong.”

gets uneasy if someone expresses affection without clear reason—suspects ulterior motives.

goes online to stalk whoever winter’s dating at the time. sends cryptic, vaguely threatening texts from a burner number or straight up dox them. half of it is for shits and giggles, the other half is rooted in jealousy.

he’s attracted to girls who are intelligent and opinionated. independent but emotionally vulnerable, so he can swoop in and “save” them (he has a saviour complex). loyalty is non-negotiable, and she has to make him feel like her top priority.

anyone resembling winter is immediately his type, but he’d never admit it.

freakishly good at darts and chess.

knows how to pick locks and also, how to build a perfect pipe bomb.

his clown mask is inspired by satan in dante’s divine comedy (based on this convo with @porcelainlipgloss)

alternates between ice-cold showers and scalding hot ones depending on his mood.

drums his fingers or shakes his leg while sitting. can spin a pen around his fingers like a pro. learned it during boring college lectures and now does it absentmindedly.

can’t stand slow walkers, or when someone scrapes a fork on their teeth. his reactions to these are disproportionate and borderline hostile.

prone to road rage.

has read elliot rodger’s manifesto once, mostly out of curiosity and boredom, but ended up getting weirdly immersed in it. he disagreed with the bravado and entitlement, though—he finds it pathetic and would mock it, but still, he couldn’t put it down. deep down, he understands the mindset too well, which makes him uncomfortable.

selectively polite. says “please” and “thank you” when it benefits him but will completely ignore social etiquette in other situations, like cutting lines or taking the last slice of pizza.

his workout playlist consists of nine inch nails, rammstein. aggressive rap like eminem (“till i collapse” is a staple) and dmx. sometimes mixes in orchestral movie scores (the dark knight rises soundtrack pumps him up)

brushes his teeth aggressively, so his toothbrushes always wear out quickly.

loves gas station beef jerky and bags of plain popcorn with way too much salt.

doesn’t drink often, claiming alcohol dulls the mind. but when he does, it’s always something hardcore like everclear or absinthe. has a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance.

can literally live off black coffee or monster zero ultra (white can). claims he doesn’t need caffeine, but drinks it constantly because he “likes the bitterness.”

his handwriting is pretty neat, but only when he’s focused—otherwise, it’s chicken scratch.

loves the smell of gasoline and sharpies.

can’t sit his ass down during phone conversations—kai paces back and forth like a caged animal.

rarely gets more than four hours of sleep.

and when he does sleep, he sleeps on his stomach with one arm dangling off the bed.

sleep talks under extreme stress.

secretly likes it when someone takes care of him. whether it’s bandaging a cut or insisting he eats when he’s been working too hard, he fucking melts. he’ll complain about being babied, but it’s a front.

[lacucarachapisser]

I wish all my writers a happy new year. May all your stories finally be written, sentences be completed, emotions be evoked with beautifully crafted words, readers be moved to tears, the urge to create be satisfied.

[lacucarachapisser]

oops!… I did it again ♡

─ colin zabel ੭୧ clumsy assistant!user

BOT LINK . . .

one steaming hot cup of what it’s like to be disliked by the usually unflappable detective, coming right up! ((two bots released in the same month too!! is this even real life???

The greeting message:

divider credits: @/v6que

[lacucarachapisser]

Domesticity

Fluff

Dwdw he's divorced in this one. Lmao. Tiny imagine bcs I hate him and Off To The Races by Lana. (Happy new year<3)

"Are you sure you don't want to watch the fireworks?"

"I'm sure. The movie is better in my opinion."

"I can drive us out to a little spo-" you cut your boyfriend off with your finger on his lips. He just smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips instead, which just made you smirk.

"No, sweetheart. I just want to watch the movie." As you went to get comfortable on the sofa, blanket over your lap, Stan got up and found a new wine bottle. One you hadn't opened yet. It was perfect. The muffled sloshing of the liquid was heard as you set up the movie. Not a very romantic movie mind you; Labyrinth. But what could you say? You had a soft spot for David Bowie.

Stan placed a wine glass on the table as you pressed play on the VHS. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, bringing you close as David Bowie's voice started the movie. A shared blanket over your lap, wine glass in your hand, one in Stan's hand. Your head snuggled closely on his shoulder.

Far away sounds of fireworks went off and you both glanced over at the window. They were barely visible, but you were glad you could at least hear them. "Seems it's the new year." Stan muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Mm...seems so."

"I love you...I'm glad it's you I'm with rather than anyone else."

"I'm glad too. I only want my new years to be with you."

A small shared kiss as the fireworks continued to burst in the city, and as the movie played in front of your eyes.