#I wrote for this psychopathic fuck

[starr-finn]

It's Your Fault: Yandere (ish) Kai Anderson x Reader

Warnings: Kai Anderson, Cringy fanfic, Mental abuse, just abuse in general it's Kai Anderson, Death, manipulation, Kai calls reader a bitch once or twice, Kai and Adderall, good god, shotty writing, slightly abrupt ending, a ton of mental back and forth. Kai killed a man and just fucked his world up, non-descriptive mention of a body, maybe a bit OOC.

You stood there, staring at the door of the house Kai had called you to. You recognized the house; It was one of your coworkers, a coworker you had gotten really close to lately. You sighed and walked in the door. You certainly weren’t expecting it to be good.

You weren’t epecting how bad it really was.

Your blood ran cold as you looked around. Blood covered the floors and walls, hand prints and obvious drag marks everywhere. You stopped, tears rolling down your cheeks when you saw the body of your coworker. You closed the door behind you. You stared at the bloody body before you were grabbed by someone. You screamed and started trying to fight back.

“Stop struggling, You’re only gonna hurt yourself.”

Kai. Kai fucking Anderson. Your psychotic cult leader boyfriend. You turned around and looked at him. He was covered in blood. He looked hot, sure, but holy shit he just killed your best friend from work.

“Do you like seeing me like this? Covered in the blood of a man you made me kill?” He says coldly. His usually weirdly innocent brown eyes were so cold, he glared over your shoulder at the body of the man he killed. You shake your head, stepping back from Kai.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Kai grabbed your arm and yanked you back, pinning you to the blood-stained walls behind you. You felt sick for liking this. Being shoved around and yelled at by the psychopath you called your boyfriend, the same man who just killed your best friend. Kai had his arm pressed into your neck, keeping you pinned to the wall. 

“It’s clear why you’re doing this, if you wanted my attention you could have just asked. Nobody needed to die, especially not this bitch.” He says coldly, motioning back to the body.

You take a breath, looking up into his chocolate brown eyes, tears rolling down your cheek still. He smirked and grabbed your shirt, dragging you to the body.

“Look at him. None of this would have happened if you weren’t an attention-hungry bitch.”

His words would have pissed you off if it weren’t him, but you let so much slide for Kai. You looked down at the body, your shoulders tense and tears in your eyes.

Had he really manipulated you to this point? Where you’d let him treat you like this after killing your friend?

He growled and forced you closer to the body, “look at what you made me do, he’d still be alive if not for you. What is his family going to think?”

You felt more tears spill from your eyes. He was being so much more cruel today, what ever he was feeling, he was mad and taking it out on you. He stood there shouting at you, but you just tuned him out, just staring at your friend’s body before you turned around and buried your face into his chest. Why? Why were you still letting him hold you? He just killed your best friend!

He sighed and hugged you, rubbing your back, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, darling…you know I don’t like hurting you…” 

Liar.

“Why did you kill him..?”

Kai sighs, “Our love comes first, everyone else is worthless to me, and should be worthless to you too…You made me do this.”

That was about as “rational” as Kai could get now, which wasn’t rational at all. You figured that would be close to his response, Kai was getting closer to fully snapping recently. He had been kind of ok until he started taking more of his adderall, but fuck, you were too scared to do anything about it. He’d been slowly slipping since. Now you were stuck, he killed your friend and was trying to convince you it was your fault. He was fully convinced it was your fault.

Fuck

@fear-is-truth I did it, hope you like this even slightly bestie!

[rise-my-angel]

.

[harlotofandraste]

boss went to the office sick last week, on a call she joked about how "she's gonna give it to all of us haha" now i am sick, most likely from her and joke's on her if I don't feel well tomorrow morning then I'll not work as is my legal right and she will have to deal with me not being there

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[ahsxual]

Could we maybe have a smut with doug like maybe he billys the reader but decides to fuck her and leave her alone after

Dark Fear & Pleasure

Pairing: Doug Van Housen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI +18!!, rough sex, extremely mean Doug, fear play, pain kink, reader gets bullied, CNC, cumming inside w/o permission, heavy degradation/humiliation, name-calling (verbal abuse), mentions of stalking, cursing, mean!Dom!Doug x sub!Fem!Reader, possessive!Doug, spanking, dacryphilia, fingering, p in v (w/o protection)

Genre:(Heavy) Smut

Word Count: 2,2k

PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS FIC HAS DARK THEMES, IF YOU'RE AGAINST ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THE WARNINGS, DO NOT READ IT!!!

A/N: This is definitely the darkest and nastiest fic I've ever written... I was absolutely drooling over this request!! Doug turns me on sm and that's so alarming, but Idc. Please, be aware that this fic contains extremely heavy themes! Anyway, I hope I wrote Doug right and that you guys enjoy this 🤭😈 tagging: @aliceblxck @twelvelevens @unidentifiablesubject <3

"Leave me alone, you freak!" you couldn't take it anymore. You'd had enough. Ever since Doug laid his eyes on you, he wouldn't stop stalking you and humiliating you in front of his group, reveling in the fear and vulnerability you showed towards him. It made him feel powerful, like he could control you like a small, fragile bunny whenever he wanted to or felt bored.

This time, he crossed all your limits, invading your house while your parents were away. And this time he came alone, not bringing his friends to join in his "fun" with you, as he call it. How could he know you were home alone? Why was he so obsessed with you to the point of knowing your routine and discovering that your parents were going to spend the weekend away, leaving you unsafe for any creep who wanted to assault you? And now there you were, trapped between a pair of a psychopath's arms against the wall of your bedroom, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. His grin was filled with malice, like a venomous snake analyzing its prey, ready to strike at any moment.

"And what fun would that be? I like tormenting you way too much, little bunny. You're so easy to scare... It actually turns me on." then you felt a warm tongue lick your wet tears running from your chin, while he moaned at the taste of fear in them.

You felt disgusted once you felt him get hard against you, so you impulsively spit on his face. You immediately regretted your bold action the moment you saw his blue irises darken so much until you could no longer see its color anymore. You'd never seen him so furious, as his jaw clenched so hard so as not to fall into the temptation of killing you right there.

"That's enough! You need to learn some manners and not disrespect who's in charge of you, you pathetic bitch!" you then felt his strong hands throw you harshly onto your bed, making you groan in pain. You were simply relieved that he hadn't thrown you to the rigid floor.

"Please Doug, what do you want from me...!?" you were feeling desperate by now, your fresh tears blurring your vision from the man who was about to destroy you.

"What do I want from you?" he chuckled, clearly mocking you like he always did. "I wanna be the one who's responsible for corrupting that cunt of yours. I bet you're not as innocent as you look... I bet you're tighter and wetter than any girl I've fucked before. And I'm gonna turn you into my sex slave for whenever I feel my balls full and want to warm up my cock. Are you more clear about my intentions with you now, huh?" he grunted before he forcefully grabbed your hair, forcing you to look at him as you winced in pain.

"No Doug, please don't... anything but that!!" you would be lying if you said that his words didn't make your panties wet and empty pussy clench around nothing, but you would never admit it to the man who's been tormenting you for months.

"Do you really think you can make a decision here?" he laughed at you. "Unfortunately, neither mommy or daddy are going to be here to help their sweet daughter from getting fucked by someone who just wants to abuse her slutty cunt. What a shame..." he slapped you across the face, purposely causing your cheek to burn and sting in pain. "You're so pathetic... and it makes my cock so hard." he said confidently, with pure danger evident in his words, before licking the top of your sternum all the way up to your chin with his long tongue.

"Why are you doing this...?" it was barely a whisper, but Doug could hear you perfectly. You looked away from him while he was pinning your wrists, restraining you with the weight of his body, while his free hand gripped your breasts and nipples roughly. He was way stronger and intimating then he looked, and the thought of being at his mercy absolutely terrified you.

"If you're a good girl for me and don't fight much, maybe I'll have pity on you..." he laughed as he said those words, making you believe he was lying with every tooth he had in his mouth. "But on second thought, I'd actually like to see you fight back." was all he said, before turning you over and shoving your face into your pillow to prevent you from breathing properly as he unbuckled his belt.

"Nooo, Doug!!" You screamed and tried to push him off you as you begged for his mercy, but that only seemed to turn him on even more, since it was completely useless. In one abrupt movement, you felt him pull your shorts and panties off, as he stared at your glistening pussy.

"Holy fuck, look at this... You're enjoying this as much as I am, you freaky slut. I knew I could corrupt you... This cunt is my fucking property now, you understand me?" you felt a hard slap on your ass, leaving a red handprint from his big hand. It hurt like hell, yet you couldn't ignore the pleasure that ran through your spine until it reached your core.

He kept spanking you until your ass was all red and sore. Once he got bored of it, he decided to check one more time if his actions turned you on even more, soon realizing that his suspicions were absolutely correct.

"You're even wetter now, little bunny... you should be ashamed of yourself for enjoying this. You do realize now that I'm not gonna stop ruining this pussy whenever I want to, right?" you moaned as you felt two long fingers enter you without any care and fuck you hard as if it were his dick.

"Stop it Doug, please, it hurts! It's too much!!" you whimpered loudly, no longer able to distinguish pleasure from pain. You'd never been intimate with a guy with hands as big as Doug's, and it hurt so good.

"Good." was all he said before speeding up his pace. He grabbed your hair so you could breath, and when he pushed you back against your pillow, you came and screamed from the intensity of your orgasm.

"Look at that... after all the bitch likes me to humiliate and hurt her." he whispered with a clear smirk on his face, as he looked down at his cum-covered fingers, before grabbing you by the hair to make eye contact with you.

"Open. Now." not wanting to test him any further, you opened your mouth hesitantly as he shoved two fingers in forcefully, making you gag around them.

"You better suck my fingers clean or I swear I'll make you choke on them until you pass out, you slut." you did as he said, afraid to face the consequences of his promises. When you finished, he took his fingers out of your mouth and put them in his own while staring deeply into your eyes.

"Doug, please..." you no longer knew what you were pleading for: for him to let you go or for him fuck you like the wild animal he was. You began to feel your body, especially your pussy, craving his cock and touch, making you feel slightly dizzy from the adrenaline and pleasure coursing through your blood.

"It'll feel better if you want it too, trust me. You're wet enough not to hurt your pretty pussy too much, so don't worry. I'll be gentle with you." he promised with blatant lies and fake enthusiasm as he brushed the pieces of hair from your face that were sticky with sweat, before laughing and mocking your face.

He then pushed you down hard so that you were lying on your back, while he ripped off your top to expose your tits and erect nipples, leaving you completely naked and vulnerable for him and his hungry eyes.

"No bra, huh? You're making this so much easier for me, little bunny. Now... don't even think about fighting back, because I promise you it will hurt." you couldn't stop crying, yet you couldn't stop craving him either.

You'd probably just discovered a new kink of yours that was unknown to you until then, or you'd only noticed that moment how profoundly attractive you were to Doug, even though he bullied you and made fun of you almost every day. It was extremely bizarre, however your dynamic was something you felt very addicted to, like a sweet poison that you couldn't stop drinking no matter how deadly and poisonous it was.

He was still fully clothed, which made you feel even more humiliated about the whole situation you were in. But as soon as he pulled down his black pants and boxers... you wished you could still see him fully dressed and not come face to face with the monster he was hiding between his legs.

"Holy shit..." you cursed wide-eyed, praying that you could take him all without being ripped apart from the inside out. You saw his proud, wide grin reappear, making you realize that he enjoyed watching your fear and horror at taking him inside you way too much.

"Scared? I'll make it all fit no matter what, so you better be."

The moment he penetrated you, it was as if the entire world had collapsed on you. You felt like you'd been drugged, since you could no longer think or see straight. To your surprise, it didn't hurt like you thought it would, your wetness and lust for him causing your pussy to immediately adjust to his huge size. However, it did hurt when he started pounding into you, his long cock slamming into your cervix at a fast, rough pace. Your screams were mistaken for moans of real pleasure, making him groan too at the feeling of your tight, welcoming cunt. When he changed position to fuck you deeper, you grabbed the bit of skin of his back that wasn't covered and dug your nails in until he grunted in pain.

"Fuck, I've wanted to destroy this fucking pussy for so long..." he whispered to himself with his eyes closed, loud enough for you to hear him. His confession made you clench around him as you came on his cock, since he was hitting your g-stop over and over again.

"No no, you're gonna look into my fucking eyes as you cum and ask for my fucking permission!" he shouted at you with an angry face, before slapping you as reminder not to dare desobey him. He didn't stop until he made you cum a second time with his cock, this time doing as he told you, which deepened the intensity of your last orgasm of the night.

"That's it little bunny, that's how I like my girl... Obedient to her owner like a well behaved whore."

"P-please, don't cum inside me! I'm begging you, please!!" you implored him the moment you felt him reach his orgasm, but as you expected, he did exactly the opposite of what you wished for.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I'll cum wherever I want and you'll thank me for that, you ungrateful slut." these were his last words, before cumming deep inside you, his thick sperm coating your walls so deliciously.

When he pulled his cock out of you, still half hard, he stared at you with pride. You were looking like a mess: naked and covered in dark hickeys, your sweaty hair all messed up, your face covered in black mascara while your eyelids were half shut from exhaustion and your chest heaving rapidly from your deep breathing. When you felt some of your energy slowly being replenished, you covered your naked body with your arms and knees as you looked out of the window, while reliving what had just happened in your mind.

"Hey, you came three times with my fingers and my cock. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it too. In fact, I did you a favor, so be grateful. I bet no other guy will fuck you this good." he said while buttoning his pants.

Before climbing out of your window, he stopped halfway and looked back at you, lying in a fetal position while you clutched your legs to your chest. He slowly approached you and knelt down to your level, watching you carefully before one of his hands tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I promise I'll leave you alone from now on, my little bunny... But I can't promise I won't come back to taste that sweet pussy of yours again." he chuckled darkly, as you felt him kiss your forehead firmly, before getting up and leaving your bedroom through your window.

And just like that, he disappeared in the middle of the night, as if the devil himself had paid you a visit to remind you who you belong to.

[zorrasucia]

look at how well you take me. even though it's been so long.

for carmy x reader PLEASE

Hello Anon! 💜

Gladly! I wrote this as a loose sequel to this, though it's only relevant in that Reader is Chef Terry's goddaughter and they met back in Copenhagen. I hope you like it! 😊

Carmy burst through the door of your hiding spot, making you jump in shock.

"Fuck!" he cursed. "Sorry, thought this was empty."

He was about to leave without even looking at you and you reached for him.

"Carmy?" you held his wrist.

He finally saw your face. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed and immediately enveloped you in a tight hug.

You hadn't seen each other in literal years but even so, his hold felt a little too intense and desperate.

"You okay?" you whispered.

"Um, I don't- I don't know," his voice broke and you could hear the tears he was holding back.

"It's okay, Carm," you squeezed him, putting more of your weight into the hug. "I'm right here."

You stayed there, running your fingers soothingly on his shoulders and the nape of his neck.

He sniffled. "You're here," he repeated. After a pause he mumbled: "Why are you here?"

"I came for the funeral," you replied quietly. You thought it would be obvious, given that you were both inside the cloakroom of Aunt Terry's restaurant but Carmy seemed very disoriented. "I couldn't miss it. It's Ever."

"It's Ever," Carmy hummed in agreement. "Uh, I meant what are you doing here in the cloakroom."

"I'm not made for networking," you sighed. "I needed a break. And, well, I don't smoke - so the cloakroom seemed a good idea."

"I'm trying to quit smoking. Maybe you're right and this is a good spot," he said gently.

He took a step back, a little more collected, even if his eyes still looked teary in the halflit room.

You smiled. "It's good to see you, Carm. I thought you were still in New York," you said and it felt a little too formal for the way you were holding each other just seconds ago.

"No, I've been, uh, been in Chicago the last few months... Two years now, shit..." it seemed like he was realizing it just as he was saying it.

"Is it nice? Being home?" you asked, tilting your head, studying his reaction.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I opened a restaurant that might close next week if we don't get a good review but, uh, you know," he said flatly.

You reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles.

"Is that why you're upset?"

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Just now? Like I get how it would be upsetting to attend a funeral when your own restaurant might-" you explained your reasoning.

"Oh! No, it's not-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I, uh, ran into my asshole boss. From New York. He's- He messed me up real bad," he was still avoiding your gaze but he let you cup his face, comforting him. "So I, I confronted him and he, uh, he thinks he did me a favor. Like, shit, I knew he was a fucking psychopath but he doesn't even care. He doesn't-"

His voice broke again and you brought him back into your arms, his face tucked to the side of your neck, tears wetting your skin.

"It's okay. You're okay," you caressed his hair. "I'm right here, Carmy."

He nodded, unable to speak for a while. He squeezed you, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

"Missed you too," you soothed.

Slowly, his head turned and he started leaving kisses up the side of your neck, to your jaw, the side of your face, the corner of your mouth...

"This okay?" he asked, tracing the same sensual path on the other side of your neck.

"You're not thinking straight, Carm," you hummed, not making any effort to move away from his reach, carding your hands through his hair and bringing him closer instead. "You're angry. And sad."

It was so easy to forget that a few years had passed and this wasn't the Carmy you knew and cared for back in Copenhagen, not anymore.

"I'm tired of fucking thinking," he slurred, running his hands over your sides hungrily. "I want things to go quiet just for a while."

You melted, his hands breaking down whatever small resolve you had.

"Okay," you agreed, dragging him by the neck to press your lips against his.

Carmy gave you desperate kisses as he cornered you against the wall. He cupped your breasts over your dress, humming appreciatively at the low neckline.

"You look so fucking nice," he growled.

His left hand bunched up the side of your dress, trying to caress your leg. You giggled.

"Don't remember you being ticklish" he remarked, cocking his head.

"I'm not," you guided his right hand up your opposite thigh, to the high slit of your dress, giving him plenty of access without bunching up the dress.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned, his calloused hands quickly finding the edge of your lace panties. "Can I -?"

You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and looking at the new tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Please. I need your fingers," you whined.

Carmy didn't make you wait, pushing your underwear down your legs, caressing your pussy, already wet for him. He kissed your collarbone and the tops of your breasts while tracing lines between your folds, a low squelching sound coming from underneath your dress as he inserted two digits at once.

"Shit."

"My clit," you begged, angling your hips so his thumb pressed the exact spot.

He started moving, a quick and unforgiving rhythm making you melt in his arms, rolling your hips and moaning, holding tight to his shoulders to stand upright.

"Close?" he rasped.

"So fucking close."

"Will you let me fuck you against the wall after you cum?" he asked low.

It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly your pussy was fluttering around his fingers. He covered your mouth with his free hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, Carmy," you panted, holding the wall for support while he unbuckled his belt.

"Shit," he stopped in his tracks and started going through the coats and jackets that were hanging on the opposite wall.

"Carm? What are you doing?"

"Just a sec," he mumbled. Once he found an informal leather jacket, he started going through its many pockets. "Come on, Richie," he whispered, then smiled in triumph as he took out a condom from the inside pocket.

"Should I ask?" you grinned, entertained watching Carmy unbutton his trousers, pump himself and roll the condom on.

"Better not," he stood in front of you, one of your arms rounded his shoulders, your free hand held his cock.

"You've always been a handful," you said - the flirtatious play on words taking you back years ago, to Copenhagen, and the first time he fucked you.

"Hmm," he closed his eyes in pleasure, completely at your mercy as you lined him up to your pussy.

He pushed lightly, an inch, then another. You whined at the stretch. "You okay?"

"It's good, so good," you managed, holding on to his shoulders, "just go slow."

Carmy nodded, the gentle movement of his hips like the swaying boat where you so often had shared a bed. You were letting out needy sounds and muffling them into your hand, as he got deeper and deeper. You encouraged him, bringing him closer by squeezing his ass, scratching at his pale skin until he was buried inside you to the hilt.

"Carm..."

He stayed still for a moment, kissing you tenderly.

"Need this," he mumbled against your lips. "Need you."

"Yeah?" you teased, circling your hips, making him moan. "How much?"

"A lot," he said, hips moving backwards slowly, his cock almost all the way out. Then, he drove back into you, quick, hard. You bit your lip to silence a high pitched moan. "A lot - a lot."

He grabbed your thighs, pressing you against the wall, lifting you.

"Fast and hard?" you suggested. You usually liked to take your time but fucking inside a closet - albeit a fancy one - asked for practicality and speed. And Carmy needed to blow off some steam.

He nodded, speechless as he started building a quick pace, driving into you like his life depended on it. You held him close, resorting to bite on the shoulder pad of his suit jacket to stay quiet.

"Wait," Carmy moved slightly, enough to press his forehead to yours and look down, hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared inside your pussy. Carmy's eyes widened, pupils blown and mouth half open. "Look at how well you take me. Even though it's been so long," he mumbled and you knew deep inside that it wasn't a line. He was truly dazed and euphoric that this was happening.

"Carm," you pleaded. "Let go for me, baby. I know you need it."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mhmm," he agreed, panting. "'m close."

You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching with satisfaction as that simple effort made him lose control, rutting messily, soft grunts leaving his lips as he came hard.

"Shit," he cursed, his lips on the side of your face.

You exhaled, content, as he let you down, landing on one foot then the other. Your heels were on the floor, somewhere, lost while your legs shook around Carmy's waist. "Better? Stopped thinking for a bit?" you inquired a little cockily.

"Not sure where we are right now, to be honest," he drawled.

"Good."

[warping-realities]

Part of the Family

Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.

Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.

“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.

“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.

“Alexander, you made it!”

“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.

“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”

Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.

“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.

“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.

“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.

“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.

“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.

“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.

“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.

“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”

“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.

“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.

“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”

“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.

“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”

“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.

“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.

“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.

“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”

“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”

“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”

“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.

“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”

“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.

“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”

The audacity of that hick!

“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.

“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”

Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.

“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.

“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.

“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.

“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”

“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.

“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.

…..

Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.

“The kid’s shitting himself.”

“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”

“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”

“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”

“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”

“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”

“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”

“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”

“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”

“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”

“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.

“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”

“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”

“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”

“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”

“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”

“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”

“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”

“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.

“Let’s have some fun.”

….

“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.

“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”

“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”

“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”

He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.

“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.

“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.

“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, officer.”

“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”

Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.

“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”

“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”

“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”

“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”

Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.

“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”

At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?

“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”

“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.

He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.

“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”

“I just want to find Abby.”

“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”

“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”

Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.

“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”

Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.

“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”

“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.

“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”

“I already told you my name…”

“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.

“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”

Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?

“What… what?”

“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.

“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom’s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.

“Hmmm…”

“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”

“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.

“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”

“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”

“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”

“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”

And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.

“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.

“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”

Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.

“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”

“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”

“Without control, our society falls apart.”

“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”

“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”

“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.

“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”

“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.

“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.

A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.

“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”

For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.

“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”

Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.

“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.

“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.

“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”

“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.

“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”

“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”

“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”

“Abby’s here? Fuck!”

“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”

“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”

“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”

“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”

“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”

Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.

“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.

“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.

“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.

“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.

“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.

“That was a good one, bro.”

“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”

…..

“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.

“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”

“I... I…”

“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”

“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”

“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”

“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”

“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”

In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.

“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.

“You have no idea what that feels like!”

“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.

“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.

“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”

….

After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.

“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.

“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”

"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."

"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."

“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”

“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.

“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”

“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”

“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.

[arayeee]

Why do you think Lena and Kara are the perfect match?

Alright kids, buckle up.

Lena and Kara are the perfect match. they both come from families that expect SO much from them. They're both trying to be more than their family name. Lena comes from a broken home. Her birth mom died, she's adopted into the Luthor family only to later find out Lionel was her birth father. Her brother who was someone she trusted growing up turned into a psychopathic xenophobe homicidal maniac. Lillian was a narcissistic emotionally abusive woman up until the later seasons. She has trauma galore. Then you have Kara, who came from an oddball messed up family, if we're being honest.. I mean, her aunt and mother fought about Kryptons well-being, her parents sent her off into a pod during the collapse of her world to babysit Kal, only for her pod to be knocked off course, trapping her frozen for years on end. Then when she comes to earth Kal is grown up and doesn't take her in himself, so she doesn't really have anyone to teach her about her powers while growing up with the Danvers (SHE'S ALSO ADOPTED).

Besides those factors, watch them interact. I mean, the first meeting. Immediate heart eyes from both of them, the longing stare. Then they become friends and Lena has such a safe feeling with Kara right off the bat she allows her access to her and her office anytime. The FLOWERS filling Kara's office, simply because Kara wrote a nice piece on her. BUYING CATCO "Well un-quit, I literally can't do this without you". YOUR HONOR LOVE. NOT TO MENTION when Lena was on that plane and it snapped, she risked the whole city telling Lena to climb when she was already struggling holding both sides of the plane.

The bond they have throughout the show. I mean, Kara is Lena's biggest cheerleader. Lena can do no wrong in her eyes. She defended her every single time. And yeah, okay. During their "breakup" she told Lena "If you continue to work with Lex, if you continue with whatever it is you two are planning, I will do everything in my power to stop you. Like I would any other villain." She said that after trying to change the timeline, and in every version of her and Lena, something happened to one or both of them. There was never a good time for her to come out to Lena. But when she called Lena a villain, she felt defeated, she felt lost, she was fighting a losing game at the time. BUT. You know Kara never stopped believing in her. And eventually Lena came around. I mean, they were both devastated during that time and equally lost. Staring at the same photo and have their own separate denial and heartbreak.

When Alex and Kara's dad dies. Lena breaks her no contact faze to tell Kara she was sorry, to give her condolences AND GIVE HER A GRIEF BOOK. Lena's heart was still in it, she never stopped wanting to be there for Kara.

AND WHEN THEY CAME BACK TOGETHER. FIREWORKS. It's like their whole relationship rebooted and sparks flew. The undeniable chemistry from the previous seasons just tripled, the unwavering belief in the other skyrocketed. "Do you really not believe in magic?" I Believe in YOU", Not if it means losing who WE are in the process, then we're no better than she is" "I know you are still processing the fact that you can use magic. I know that I have been pushing you out of your comfort zone, but that's only because I believe in YOU". PLEASE DO YOU SEE THIS.

They've both come from the fucking trenches, fought tooth and nail to get to where they are. Together and separately. But together, they're an unstoppable force. The way they look at each other with the utmost understanding and vulnerability. Lena never doubts Kara, never puts her down. Kara lifts Lena when she is going down a self deprecating road and holds her when she's breaking.

It's written in the god damn stars. The ending of the era, when Lena talks Kara down from her panic about the thought of coming out as Supergirl. "You can't always be our Savior Kara. You shine your light and inspire others to shine theirs. YOUR words, not mine. If somebody does come, if they try to mess with THIS family, then WE will take them on TOGETHER. El Mayarah." ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

They've been a match since day one. Whether you believe it as a solid friendship or more. They were made for each other, to grow together, to love together, to become more than their families.

[barrackspredator]

Run for Your Life

Bowers Gang x Reader

Summary: fem!reader is being hunted down after discovering who’s been making the kids in town go missing

TW: Murder, blood, implied rape, violence, weapons, death, some small gore I suck at writing. Don't expect this to be amazing. note: as I finish writing this I realize how much I despise dark themes. oh well, I already wrote it. Also, yeah the title is stupid. It's okay.

“: ̗̀➛did you really think we would just let you off the hook so easily?‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ”

Seeing them shove that body into the quarry was the beginning of the end.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been if you had simply made a break for it as soon as you saw it, but how could you? Seeing the mutilated body of Chase Foreman was quite the sight to see, a sight so mesmerizing that your feet had cemented themselves to the ground. Any will to run or scream was paralyzed as your mind screamed at you to escape.

It was only after Belch Huggins had thrown Chase’s body off the edge of the cliff that you found the strength to turn around. But when you did, you were immediately slammed to the ground by Patrick Hockstetter’s hard chest.

"Didn't your parents teach you it's rude to spy?"

Patrick's sarcastic, shrill laughter of joy rang through your ears as he kneeled down beside your body, his knee pressing between your thighs. A large rotting Cheshire grin was on display before your very eyes, the smell of cigarettes assaulting your senses.

Your mouth opened pathetically, ready to sputter out any excuse to spare your life as tears threatened to spill out. Patrick, however, wordlessly put his fingers to your lips, softly shushing you in an oddly soothing way—as soothing as someone like him could sound.

"Don't fret, little bitch. I'll make sure to finish you off quickly. But what's the harm in a little fun?"

His dimly lit face turned up, looking behind her. The moonlight revealed the dirt and blood smeared across his face, casting a sinister glow on the deranged psychopath. Panicked footsteps crunched against dirt and gravel. A shadow came over Patrick and his grin vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Just make this quick, Hockstetter." It was Belch Huggins' worried voice coming from behind her. The crunching of dirt and gravel signaled a third presence.

"What's the fun in making this one quick?" Victor Criss mused as he knelt down behind you. He leaned over your shoulder before abruptly gripping your neck, pulling you back into his chest as he observed your face. A choked sob escaped your lips as you gasped for air, while his fingers tightened around you. "She's a looker. Got a pretty mouth too..." Victor trailed off, his tone filled with dark intent. Another shrill giggle came from Patrick as he climbed on top of your body, watching your eyes roll back into your skull.

"I like the way you're thinking, Vic." Patrick suddenly tore Victor's hand off of you, making the blonde grunt in irritation "But if I'm gonna fuck her, I want her to be awake." He looked down at you with that same grin, grabbing your jaw as you pathetically gasped for air. "Isn't that right, little bitch? You better look me in my eyes when I'm inside you."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Henry stood over the boys, watching with disinterest as Patrick eye-fucked the witness to their crime.

"Yeah, yeah." Patrick brushed off Henry's comment. "You're one to talk, Bowers. All high mighty 'cause you never stick it into our girls, huh?"

Henry's eyes trained on Patrick as his nostrils flared. His hands jutted out, lifting Patrick off of you by his collar. "Don't fucking talk to me that way, you goddamn pervert. One more word and I'm making you the next kid on a poster."

Patrick only grinned at Henry's empty threats. "You wouldn't dare get your pretty little hands dirty. That's my job." He had made it a point to get in Henry's face, enjoying how Henry's eyebrow would twitch in irritation. If there was one thing Patrick was good at, it was getting under Henry's skin. His comments had challenged Henry's masculinity, and for this crime, Patrick would pay the price.

It had all happened in mere seconds. Patrick’s body was slammed down, his head violently bouncing off the ground before hitting cold earth. Gasping sharply, he tried to recover the breath Henry had knocked out of him. Henry loomed over Patrick, straddling him with clenched fists. Patrick’s defiant laughter rang in the tense silence, his breath ragged as he laughed at Henry’s pathetic attempt.

Without hesitation, Belch lunged forward, ripping Henry off, while Victor rushed to Patrick’s side. Despite their lack of genuine concern for each other, the gang all understood their unspoken rule: no turning on each other.

Henry kicked and flailed like an enraged toddler as Belch manhandled him. "Get off of me! I ain't gonna hurt 'em!" He shouted, shoving Belch away and kicking dirt in Patrick's direction. The dirt hit Victor in the face, causing the blonde to sputter, spitting out any dirt that got into his mouth.

"What the fuck?" Victor complained, wiping his mouth repeatedly. The blood on his long-sleeve had now smeared across his lips, a stark contrast between his pale skin and the crimson streaks. Henry's rage had moved from Patrick to Victor, sneering at the smaller blonde.

On that cold earth, you laid there motionless, watching the boys through your peripherals. You felt a strange sense of joy when Patrick was thrown to the floor, and an even greater relief washed over you when the boys left you behind to break up the cat-fight. Your body was flooded with fear and adrenaline, and your mind went into overdrive, thrust into a survival mode you had never felt before.

Without a second thought, you pushed yourself off the ground, sprinting into the woods surrounding the quarry. Your absence hadn't gone unnoticed, and as soon as you made it into the woods, shouting ensued. Twigs and leaves crunched under your feet, drowning out the sounds of the boys chasing after you.

The boys you had known since childhood—whom you watched grow up as you went from playing with toys together to wanting to play together—were now hounding you like rabid wolves.

As you ran, a gunshot went off. You flinched violently, causing the bullet to only graze your flesh. Instinctively, your hand shot up to grasp your barely bleeding cheek in shock. "What the fuck!?" you screamed, your legs pumping faster.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed the distance in between you and the boys widened, giving you the advantage momentarily. Ducking under thick foliage, you followed a mini trail that would lead you to the barrens. With limited light, you ran blindly through dense woods. Branches and logs snapped against your face, pulling at your clothes, and threatening to trip you as you raced forward.

The shouting continued to follow you, except now it had split. Wicked voices bellowed at you from the surrounding trees, and with the dim light you could hardly tell what was coming from where. Your head tilted up, trying to gauge the sky from the trees, but it was entirely pitch black aside from the twinkling of stars and a melancholy moon.

"I'm coming to get you, little bitch!"

This time the voice was right beside you. Whipping your head to the right, you saw Patrick Hockstetter running, a wild grin on his face as he tried to swoop in closer, weaving through trees to get on your path. You swerved to the left, only to be greeted once more.

"You can't run forever, slut!"

It was Victor Criss this time, his baggy clothing whipping through the wind as he grasped a knife tightly in his right hand. He was weaving in towards you, both boys working together to trap you in between them. Your legs were aching and sweat drenched every inch of your body, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

Victor swiped his knife at you, nicking you in the stomach. A gut-wrenching scream followed as you felt the blade run across your tender flesh. Your hand immediately pressed itself against the bleeding wound, trying to stem the flow. Patrick's laughter drowned out your screams, his voice filled with eagerness as he closed in on you. His arms reached out, desperately trying to latch on.

“Fucking grab her already!” Henry’s voice roared from behind Patrick, filled with a frenzied intensity. His eyes locked onto you like a mad bull. He drew the pistol from his belt, aiming it in your direction. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, your cramping legs pushed harder, desperately propelling you forward.

The bullet darted out, intent on killing. You instinctively shut your eyes but it never came. Victor's body collapsed on your left, abandoned as the group continued the chase.

"Fuck!" Belch wailed, maneuvering past Victor's corpse.

"Nice aim, moron!" Patrick taunted Henry with another shrill giggle. Henry only roared out in frustration. Your eyes were wide, body racked with fear and oddly enough, guilt. But you kept on going anyway, better Victor than you.

With ringing ears, you weaved through dense foliage and never-ending trees, feeling as though you were in a relentless loop. The constant barrage of Patrick’s taunts and Henry’s angry roars only added to your despair. You wanted to give up. To just collapse like Victor had on the cold earth and rest. God, death just seemed so tempting.

Something you feared for years suddenly seemed so desirable. And wrapped up in these thoughts of sweet death, you had hardly taken notice that Belch Huggins had swung his axe at you, lodging itself into your shoulder blade.

"Fuck!" You bellowed as the blade was pulled back. Your left arm dangled pathetically, blood oozing out as tendons strung your arm to your body. Immense pain took over and you collapsed, screaming as you cradled your arm.

The three boys stalked towards you, watching you intensely. Your sobs echoed through the trees, birds scattering out of trees hearing your screams of agony.

"Fuck, just kill me already!" You pleaded, tears streaming down your face. Belch solemnly crouched down beside you, a look of guilt on his face.

"Don’t take this personally…" he mumbled, glancing down at your bloody arm. Your eyes locked onto his, and you whimpered softly. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but remember Belch’s kindness from long ago—how he had always been a big sweetheart, even back in kindergarten when you’d share a nap blanket. What happened to that kind soul?

Your eyes lowered to your arm, bile creeping up your throat until you couldn't help but pathetically keel over and vomit. Henry scowled, letting out an annoyed scoff while he panted heavily.

"Good going, tubby." Patrick sneered at Belch. "I can't enjoy her rockin' body when her arm is all fucked up. That's why we wait to cut them up after I've already dumped my load." The psychopath scoffed at this inconvenience, disregarding your dying body as just another dumpsite.

"Shut the fuck up," Belch mumbled, shooting a glare at Patrick. His attention moved back towards you, noticing how you were starting to fade away. He removed his flannel, gingerly put it over your body. He especially was trying to cover your arm. "I really didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered as he covered you.

Henry scoffed, "Don't tell me you're sweet on a dying girl."

Patrick snickered, nudging Belch. "The guilt getting you again, big guy?" His taunting laughter filled your ears.

Your eyes slowly rolled up to stare at the burly axe-wielding bully. With a small scoff, you groaned softly again. "Just fucking kill me..."

"If it's what you want," Henry grumbled, beyond annoyed that he had to run for so long. "Fuck, that's what we've been trying to do this entire time. Dumb bitch." He cocked his gun, aiming it at your head.

"Any last words?" Patrick cooed, his eyes glinting with a twisted excitement. His gaze darted back and forth between you and the gun, a dark smile stretching across his face. The anticipation in his voice was almost palpable.

You forced a sneer, even as your vision blurred to white.

"Yeah, fuck you," you rasped, your voice trembling.

The gunshot rang out, its echo a brutal punctuation to the silence that followed.

[rainecreatesstuff]

So I Wrote Loser, Baby - Reprise, and This Is How It Turned Out

ANGEL DUST:

So things look bad,

And your back’s against the wall

HUSK:

(Spoken) Angel, don’t.

ANGEL DUST:

Your whole existence feels like bullshit

HUSK:

(Spoken) This ain’t gonna help!

ANGEL DUST:

Ya feelin’ filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall,

Look ‘round and see,

That’s the least of it.

ANGEL DUST:

You’ve lost your way,

Ya feel like givin’ in,

Then throw it all right in the bin!

HUSK:

(Spoken) Quit while you’re ahead, kid.

ANGEL DUST:

You’re,

A,

Loser, baby,

We’re losers, goddamn baby,

We’re both,

Fucked up little asshole pricks,

You’re a loser just like me!

We’re both screws-loose boozers,

Two missin’-all-of-our-cues-ers,

Join this power bottom at rock bottom!

Come be my company.

HUSK:

(Spoken) Fuck my life.

ANGEL DUST:

There was a time I thought that no one could relate,

To the fucked up ways in which I’m broken,

But a wise guy told me shit like this can set you straight!

Gotta let your whole self breathe and let some hope in.

-music fades out, ANGEL DUST breathes heavily-

ANGEL DUST:

(Spoken) C’mon, humour me, Whiskers.

-HUSK sighs loudly, music slowly fades back in-

HUSK:

My whole life’s bein’ wrecked,

By a psychopathic freak.

ANGEL DUST:

Hah! A life with no shit ain’t complete!

ANGEL DUST

(Spoken) Sing with me Husky.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, baby,

We’re losers, it’s okay to be a-

HUSK:

Washed-up, old gamblin’ dick?

ANGEL DUST:

Ya know that’s fine by me.

BOTH:

We’re both losers, honey,

Short-fusers, yeah, two dummies,

But at least we know we’re not alone.

You’re a loser,

Just,

Like,

Me.

[3liza]

Do you write? Where can I read something you wrote? :)

I'm really bad at updating my CV so I'm forgetting a lot of stuff but I wrote for most of the main "gaming news and journalism" websites during the 2000s and also worked on Unhallowed Metropolis the TTRPG in a bunch of roles, including a chapter in the soucebook. one of the more recent ones was Headcase which was an anthology by Oxford Press, which was an honor, i think it was about queer mental health? also my book Problem Glyphs has an essay in it, that's sold by Strix (publisher). I had some stuff in Thick As Thieves in Seattle that I was proud of but fuck that paper it was run by a psychopath. uhhhh I unfortunately started a short fiction series with Warren Ellis way before all the reports about him came out, called Deep Map Pilots, I think some of that is on this blog and searchable. Cafe Racer Anthology about Dune called Dune, I'm not sure if it's searchable or purchasable. I was in Lightspeed Magazine's special issue (or maybe it was another anthology) called Queers Destroy Science Fiction. Short story in Conclave Journal's 2010 or 2011 issue.

i'm a shit promoter of my writing honestly it's not really something I have been actively pursuing recently because it pays peanuts and I just haven't felt like writing as much as pursuing other stuff. i really only publish when someone asks me specifically or contacts my business manager lol. I've been thinking about trying to find a publisher for a poetry chapbook I've already completed and formatted but the poetry market is...well it's exactly what you would expect. borderline impossible to publish, much less sell, unless you have some sort of brand name going in, which I do not, at least in a way that would help sell poetry.

i started a short story I really liked based on the Clarksworld published list of "most common words used in titles of stories submitted to Clarksworld Magazine" more as a joke than anything but I've been thinking about cleaning it up and submitting it. it was kind of an exercise in "how do I take these extremely worn out title words and do something I think is fresh with them" and sort of as a little joke to submit to them. i think it's probably something they would maybe consider printing if the issue was right for it, I'm not sure though.

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[kopilot-pop]

[New Jeans x Bodyguard!Fem!Reader]

- imagine.

Summary: You have been a bodyguard for several celebrities for some time now. Due to your job being quite dangerous, it’s easy for your girlfriend to worry from time to time. So, what will happen when one day she gets a call from the hospital saying you were taken to the ER after a crazy fan attacked you…

Warnings: blood/injuries, hospital(?), slight angst, fluff, crazy fans, stronk y/n, Danielle kinda cries, etc.

a/n: This is mostly a fluff imagine so don’t get scared by the tags, lmao. You’re not a personal bodyguard for NJ, just a normal, for-hire person working with a security team. Oh, and for Hyein I wrote it as like an ‘best friend’ reader.

———————————————————————

KIM MINJI

She got the call during dance practice, so everybody learned what was going on.

Due to a very nosey Hanni (and the fact that you were friends with everybody) she told them you were in the ER and that she had to leave early.

Probably the calmest out of everybody.

“Calm down Dani! It’s MY girlfriend, why are YOU crying???”

But she was probably the most panicked on the inside.

The moment her manager dropped her off, she quite literally zoomed to find you.

Stayed with you the whole time until you woke up.

Thankfully no serious damage, but she was probably really concerned after you were cleared to go home.

“You should stay a few days more… y’know… just in case…” >> says this like every minute you were packing things up to go home

Begged the company to let her stay at your house for a while… (she did contemplate bringing you to the dorm, but the first scenario that popped into her head was the girls pouncing on you with questions and your stitches ripping open so..)

so fucking gentle

cleaned your stitched wound (crazy fan threw something at you- turned out it was a broken shard of something, you have no idea why the bitch even had that) and changed your gauze every day.

she’s very strict about your care tho

that apprently means you can’t hug your girlfriend until you take the stitches out :D

“I’M FINE MINJI! JUST GIVE ME A GODDAMN HUG-”

“NO!”

“MY LIPS ARE FINE- I WAS JUST STABBED IN THE BACK NOT THE FACE! JUST GIVE ME A KISS WOMAN”

“SIT DOWN!”

Don’t worry tho. You’re still stronger even when injured, so you just trapped her in a cuddle. (c’mon, you’re a guard for a reason)

———————————————————————

Pham Hanni

She was just lying around at your house when she got a call from one of your friends.

Poor girl was so confused because your friend was rambling, but the moment she understood that you were in the ER, she ran to the hospital.

Apparently some crazy man was trying to get close to the actress you were assigned to protect, and threw boiling hot coffee at you for blocking his view.

Your whole (bodyguard)team of grown men struggled to stop Hanni from going to the police station to beat the psychopath’s ass.

They struggled until you finally woke up and told her to calm down.

Poor girl’s never leaving your side again.

several- and i mean SEVERAL kisses to the left side of your face (your right side is like.. blistering.. and shit…)

Very soft with you. I mean she was already an absolute sweetheart before you got burnt like a chicken nugget, but now she’s so SOFT.

Kissing your scars, helping you put ointment on them… just the sweetest… goddammit this girl has your heart in a chokehold :(

“I look like shit.” “You look very pretty baby, so shut up.” (we love aggressive affection)

She also tried to put the ‘coffee man’ in a chokehold, but thankfully you caught her before she left for the police station.

Oh, and also she’s a great cook. That means she’s making meals for you everyday after work.

“Hanni… Sweetheart… Nobody chopped my arms off, I can cook..”

“Nope! You’re not allowed in the kitchen from now on!”

“…It’s my house…?”

She freaked out one time because you made coffee for her in the morning.

“Sweetheart… it’s was an electric pot… I’m not gonna die..”

She’s still unhappy about it, so expect her staring into your soul while sipping her latte.

———————————————————————

DANIELLE MARSH

An absolute mess - I can say that for sure.

You were supposed to be visiting Dani after escorting a popular solo artist to their company building. That meant it was an easy job, involving just you, another guard and the artist.

It was supposed to be a 20 minute walk

But apparently a crazed fan had different ideas..

mf ran up to the three of you, and managed to smash you against a brick wall.

You passed out immediately and the other guard managed to call the ambulance and take care of the situation.

Meanwhile, after hours of waiting Dani finally decided to call you. Only to have a nurse pick up the phone.

She ran toward the hospital ignoring her members worried looks.

Cries the moment she sees you on the hospital bed.

and like, I mean SOB-

She already has a soft heart, and thanks to you it was shattered :D (technically it’s the fan’s fault but whatever)

Doesn’t want to hurt you so she quietly holds your hand until you wake up.

Listens to the nurse explaining that you have a concussion with wide, teary eyes. (The nurse almost fell in love with your gf ngl)

She cries again when you wake up, and even with the concussion you automatically pull her into a hug.

“Wh…what… where am I… huh… DANI?! WHY ARE YOU CRYING-”

Please remind her that you’re okay like a 100 times - that’s the only way to calm her down.

Even weeks after being cleared to go, Dani still gently holds your head from time to time and checks if you’re alright.

She always knew your job had the dangers.

You were pushed around alot, and had bruises from time to time (Dani sees them whenever you’re getting changed)

But this was the first time (after dating) that you were taken to the hospital

So please reassure her everyday :(

Kisses are very effective too fyi

“I was just so worried… you had bandages on your head.. and.. and… there was blood.. and…”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry baby..”

———————————————————————

KANG HAERIN

A very threatening (and worried) cat.

She was just practicing in the dance room when Minji barged in to tell her you were in the hospital

You were tasked to escort a problematic celebrity to a show (you had no choice) when a pissed off man decided to attack.

That resulted in you having a full on wrestling match with a dude. You won ofc, but because you were bleeding everywhere your captain took you to the ER just in case.

“You should call your girlfriend.”

“But-”

“Call your girlfriend.”

“I’m fine, sir…”

“Fine then. Since she’s in your emergency contacts I’ll be calling to let her know you were taken to the emergency roo-”

“FINE, fine…”

You’re probably kind of scared of her lmao

She doesn’t hate your job (she actually thinks it’s cool), but she always has this stare whenever you come home with a bruise or two.

She doesn’t say anything, but just… stares..

It makes you sweat so you always keep non-serious injuries a secret

So rather than Haerin, you decided to call your friend Minji

“Are you calling me because you’re scared Haerin’s gonna be pissed?”

“Glad you know.”

Haerin barges into your hospital booth after a few minutes.

She doesn’t saying anything but grabs your face and scrunches up when she sees all the cuts.

“I.. I can explain.”

“…”

“I was just doing my job! And… and this dude just… Please look at me..?”

She turns away and gives you the silent treatment for the whole week :D

Haerin is very protective over people she cares about (family, members, friends.. you…) so she absolutely hated seeing you all battered up like that.

So it’s you sweating for a whole week until Haerin finally decides to talk to you.

Just pops up randomly at night and snuggles into you as soon as you open the front door.

You just hold her until she starts silently crying into your chest.

“I was so worried….”

Please hold her like that for the rest of your life, thank you.

———————————————————————

LEE HYEIN

(you’re the same age as her btw)

You guys were neighbors, and since your parents were friends y’all became friends too.

She left to train in her company, but the two of you still kept in contact.

Anyways, fast forward to 2023

You are her best friend since childhood, so she knew how much training you did for your dream- she knew you were terrifyingly strong for your age.

You even send her pics of you at the gym (to brag)

So imagine her surprise when she gets a text from you saying you were in the hospital.

You were at school when a bunch of boys in your class were talking shit about Hyein’s group, and you just lost your cool.

You don’t tell her that ofc

“Aren’t you supposed to protect people?”

“I was actually.”

“You broke one of their bones Y/n.”

“Shh… Nobody has to know…”

You did confess why you fought like months after though.

You guys were hanging out during one of her breaks, and you just randomly blurted out that you beat up people for her

She felt touched of course, but found it funnier than sweet LMAO

She has a habit of slapping you when laughing so you were probably more injured by her laughing her ass off.

“THAT’S THE STUPIDEST REASON Y/N”

“LEARN TO BE FUCKING GRATEFUL- AND STOP SLAPPING ME WOMAN!“

Even though she does laugh at you, she was still worried

You’re one of the most important people to her, so her heart did stop for a second when she saw your text the first time

Even after a few years, and you start working with an actual security team she does get worried from time to time

Helps you deal with bruises and muscle pain by just buying you a bunch of medicine

Just calling her every month like:

“Hyein, is this from you again..?”

“Huh?”

“What is this..? Bruise cream?”

“Oh yeah, I saw a video of you getting pushed on the internet. It’s my phone wallpaper now btw, luv u byeee~”

“LEE HYEIN!”

———————————————————————

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: ก่อนดอกไม้…บาน / 花开有时颓靡无声 / Meet You at the Blossom

Meet You at the Blossom is a 2024 joint Thai/Chinese adaptation of a Chinese danmei novel. Marketing itself as an "uncensored BL," it tells the love story of the world's dumbest boy and the absolute psychopath he has the (mis)fortune to fall for.

Note that "uncensored" doesn't mean you're going to see somebody's little blossom or anything like that. It just means that the love story is textual and canonical. These boys declare their love for one another. They hold hands. They smooch. They have soft, unfocused scenes where one of them climbs on top of the other and then everything fades to black. They are two boys and they are in love ... and sure, one of them thinks the other is a girl for longer than is probably reasonable, but what relationship doesn't have its share of misunderstandings?

This twelve-episode drama is a bodice-ripping melodrama with a bottom-barrel Harlequin novel plot. It is the most soap opera I've seen something that isn't a soap opera be. If you are the kind of person who enjoys this sort of thing, you are absolutely going to enjoy this sort of thing. If you're not ... well, it might still hook you anyway. Here's five reasons I think you should watch it.

1. Perfect toxic yaoi sludge

Do you only consume media about healthy relationships between consenting equals, where people have conversations and are always honest about their feelings? Great. Turn this off immediately.

Meet You at the Blossom is the show for people who yearn for the days of Kizuna. People who still think longingly about Zetsuai 1989. People who will not be convinced that Tokyo Babylon is anything but peak romance. People who have seen Gravitation more than once and of their own volition. People who have looked the trashiest yaoi out there dead in the eye and shouted BRING ME MORE.

I keep using the word "yaoi" because that's what it is. It's a gay relationship begun under false premises, consummated under sketchy circumstances, longed for despite serious reasons to stay broken up, and then all somehow worked out in the end. I have described the main pairing as, what if Wen Kexing fell in love with a labradoodle? Carried out to its logical conclusion, this relationship would be good for neither Wen Kexing nor the labradoodle. But for the purposes of a catastrophically badly paced twelve-episode series, it's all the dramatic fuel you need.

Nothing about their relationship is ever reliably safe, sane, or consensual -- and that's the fun of it! Look, the first time they fuck (in episode two!) is under the influence of sex pollen, and they come out the other side of it awkward but definitely not traumatized. I've seen people say they wish the show had treated the noncon bits with more gravity, which ... look, there's no noncon here. Actual noncon-wanters would be sorely disappointed by what this show offers. There's some impaired judgment and overblown irrational jealousy and aggressively pinning one's very drunk partner to the bed, but it's that kind of perfectly okay force fantasy that works in fiction, because in fiction everyone's okay with it. You know they're okay with it. The writer wrote it so they're okay with it. Everybody is getting exactly what they want.

This is a drama about people having Big Feelings that would be terrifying in real life, but are fun as hell onscreen. So you are promising me right now that if you watch this, you will not overthink it, because overthinking this show is like being that raccoon that failed at washing a piece of cotton candy. Don't try to clean up this delicate sugary mess. Eat it dirty.

2. Some fascinating faces

This is going to sound like such a backhanded compliment, but I swear it's not: There are some really interesting-looking people in this show! I can't swear this is because of the Thai production elements, but I have to assume that the different cultural beauty standards at work at least somewhat influenced the casting choices.

A thing about c-dramas is, the majority of the under-40 male actors look like their base model came off of one of the dozen or so approved production lines at the Pretty Boy Factory. While I enjoy these production lines, combine it with my natural touch of faceblindness, and I've had some hilarious moments where I have been certain two characters were played the same person, when they were in fact very much not.

This show is full of a bunch of actors you'd be hard-pressed to mistake for anyone else. There's like one guy who's conventionally c-drama handsome, while everyone else brings a lot more variety to the table than you tend to find in productions like this.

Li Le, when he's all done up as Zongzheng Huaien, is strikingly beautiful in a way that reminds me of old film starlets who maybe should've stopped about one nose job ago. I've seen pictures of him when he's dressed like a regular modern boy, and he's lovely, sure. But with the hair and the outfits and the constant haughty ice-cold stares he's leveling at people, the final look is stunning. And then he smiles and it's just the cutest goofy grin! Anyway, there's a whole big deal about Huaien's parentage, when the obvious answer is that the fey folk dropped him off and said, good luck with this one.

Meanwhile, Wang Yunkai, who plays Jin Xiaobao, has perfectly plump, kissable lips and a wide, soft nose that together with his giant eyes give him the perfect air of an innocent bisexual dumbass currently in the process of figuring out the whole "bisexual" part. He's so cute and cuddleable that you feel extra-bad when you see him in pain, which works for the show, because he spends a lot of the back half of the series being in both emotional and physical pain, as per conventions of the genre.

As for the rest of the cast, there's...

store-brand Huang Youming!

pouty Thai princess!

slimy kite dude and his terrible 'stache!

these precious dipshits!

...and a couple guys I just straight-up can't find pictures of, even though they're important named characters, because this may be the first thing they've been in? Look, this is not a show of well-known names, nor is it something that's probably to launch any careers to prominence. I'm not even going to say this is a show where everybody looks like everyday average people, because no! They obviously do not! They are very attractive people! They are just attractive according to a set of criteria you do not often see on Chinese television, and I think that's great.

3. You don't have to say NO HOMO every time you touch another dude

Really, truly, the greatest thing about an overtly BL property is how touchy men can be -- and not even the romantic pairings! Loyal servants get to hug their masters! Coworkers get to fall asleep in a two-man puppy pile! Childhood besties get to wrap comforting arms around one another! Brothers in arms get to catch their fallen comrades! Friends get to tearfully bid farewell to one another before leaving on journeys! Cousins get to embrace to the point one of the cousins really wishes they would stop!

Mostly it's that once you've removed the fear that gay shit might get your show censored, you can have your male characters engage in a perfectly regular amount of human physical contact.

Like, one of my favorite funny things about c-dramas is the amount of wrist-gripping that happens, as though dragging someone else along by their wrist is a real-life thing that happens often, or even at all. It's the perfect example of how paranoia about depicting physical intimacy leads to substitutes that are just bizarre. We can't possibly have these two people hold hands! So let's make up another gesture and pretend it's a thing people do voluntarily and (more importantly) heterosexually!

But when you've already outright put the YEP, IT'S GAY sign on your production, that paranoia vanishes. What are the censors going to do, get mad at the part where two friends are sleeping tangled up with one another? Three minutes ago there was a scene where one guy kissed another on the mouth! Let those boys snooze!

Alas that the scenes that are supposed to be sexy come across as mostly awkward -- largely because those two leads don't really seem all that keen on sticking their tongues down each other's throats, which, you know, I get; it'd be weird if I had to kiss my coworkers. But what they are good at is snuggling. I almost wish -- and keep in mind this is me saying this -- they'd cut the scenes that were trying to be horny and leaned more into the tender, playful moments they get together. Those are the ones that made me squeal happily and kick my little feet.

I have to mention this one: There is a little cheek kiss that I absolutely love. (I can't find a screencap of it, and my own attempts at screenshotting it were hilariously unproductive, but it gets played as part of gay flashbacks pretty much once an episode, so you can't miss it.) Huaien is being menacing in an attempt to be offputting, and Xiaobao is stubbornly refusing to be anything but charmed by it, and as soon as Huaien turns his head, Xiaobao takes advantage of the moment and plants a quick little mwah! on Huaien's cheek.

And it's SO GOOD. I said out loud, in that moment, do you know how many shows would be improved if one guy could just give another guy a little kissie on his cheek? It should be like how getting a PG-13 rating allows your movie one "fuck," but instead every c-drama gets one moment where a guy gives another guy a little peck. Not even on the lips! Like how Aragorn gets to give Boromir a farewell forehead kiss. Sometimes a scene just calls for a little kissie! Sometimes everything would be better if a guy could just kiss the homies!

You're thinking now of all the places you'd use your single little kissie in various dramas, aren't you? Yeah, so am I.

4. side pairs side pairs side pairs~

Yeah, main couple, true love, happily ever after, whatever. SIDE PAIRS SIDE PAIRS SIDE PAIRS [banging rhythmically on table]

You know the genre, so you know there's always going to be That One Guy that threatens to steal the pure-hearted one away from the psycho by being handsome, rich, well-intentioned, and generally emotionally stable. You also know it's not going to work, because no matter how much healthier that relationship would be, it's not the tasty toxic flavor we're going for here. Anyway, sorry, Su Yin, but you never left the childhoodbestfriendzone.

That bratty prince wants to fuck his cousin so bad. His cousin is not going to fuck him, not because of cousin status, but because the bratty prince needs to be tossed out the nearest window and not let back in until he can legally drink.

I was ready to ship Jin Xiaobao's two little guard buddies -- but no! The littler of the two guard buddies has his own love interest who shows up later in the show, and I'm so upset that there's not more of these two, because that's an unexpectedly hot setup. I'll say no more; you should enjoy this one as it happens.

Now, do not presume that this is a Kinnporsche deal, where fiction has created a magical world in which every man is at least a Kinsey 2. There are still straight men in this show (and a few men who clearly think they're straight but have not yet gotten the memo) who experience varying degrees of befuddlement about the homo drama happening around them. Most characters are at least casually anti-gay, but in sort of the same way you might expect a big cattle-ranching family to react if their son started dating a vegan -- it's not unthinkable or illegal, but, like, why?

There needs to be a word for a gentler state than homophobia. Something like homobefuddlement, a social condition where falling in love with another guy is about on the level of getting a face tattoo or naming your child Optimus Prime. There's nothing stopping you, but you know somebody's roasting your ass on Ancient Chinese Fantasy Reddit.

5. A budget of three dollars and a ham sandwich

I am firmly on record as being charmed by productions that make do with skimpy resources, and Meet You at the Blossom's resources are skimpy as heck. I highly suspect this is one of those situations where if they'd known it was going get the attention that it has, they might've put more money into it from the start -- but they didn't, so they didn't.

I keep coming back to "soap opera" as a description, because that's about the production level you should be picturing here. If you played this on a TV with motion smoothing enabled, the effect would be complete. Everything is done to the cheapest possible degree. Characters legitimately toss smoke bombs and disappear like they're anime ninjas, probably because renting a fog machine has got to be way less expensive than the rigs for wirework. That's the type of shoestring budget we're talking here.

The greenscreen is Not Good, my friends. I mean, not that you expected it to be, but however far you've lowered your expectations already, lower them more.

They got to borrow a brothel set for like half an hour. It's the most people you see in a single room at the same time, and it represents drunkenness by spraying raspberry soda over all the lights.

If I had a nickel for every time Huaien is in some terrible predicament that seems impossible for him to get out of, and then he shows up somewhere else like two scenes later, and we never find out exactly how he got out of that terrible predicament, I would have multiple nickels in my pocket, is all I'm saying.

You know, if my wigs/beards and wig/beard glue were that bad, I would simply refrain from frequent, intense close-ups of the parts where people's fake hair joins to their faces. And if my actors all had that much foundation caked on them, I would probably refrain from close-ups, period. But that's just me.

Actually, no, there's something else about the wigs: They're styled so badly that it actually wraps around (ha ha) to being charming. I'm used to wig situations where the topknots are combed tight and oiled into place within an inch of their lives. But here, everybody who has an updo has kind of a messy one? Especially little Jinbao, where you can see the ends of his ponytail stick out the back in a scruffy fashion, giving him the vibe of a little ragamuffin who's never learned how to do up his hair quite right.

There's a plot, sort of. It's basically the thinnest possible series of excuses for the action in the show to happen, told in occasional five-minute bursts of exposition given by characters you forgot about between now and the last time they appeared. Don't worry if you can't keep track of which prince is which, or who is whose dad. Man, there's even a "curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" near the end that's played up as some big shock, and I was like, have we met this dude before? I think pretty much every time the grownups started talking, we stopped paying attention. Look, I know this is based on a novel I haven't read, and I'm sure the plot comes off better when it's all packed together in a couple of pages of dialogue you can skip without consequence on your way to the boy-kissing, but in the show it just comes off as perfunctory and clunky. From what I've seen, people who've read the book tend to be way more into the intricacies of the narrative, but I haven't, so I'm not.

(Wait, in the novel, Jin Xiaobao is supposed to be fat? Well, now I feel I've been robbed! ...Eh, it's fine, I'm not sad to skip a sequence where the side benefit of trauma is that you get skinny.)

All this, to me, is charming. If you demand higher production values from your entertainment, this will not be what you want. If cozying up with some low-budget tomfooloery with a big heart feels like comfort food to you, you are among friends here.

And speaking of friends, let me strongly recommend that you watch this with some, if you can, because there are parts that are just begging to get riffed on. I would not have had a tenth as much fun watching it alone as I did goofing my way through it with my wife. It is a show that is only improved by the jokes you make about it along the way. It has no dignity, nor are you obligated to treat it as though it does. Cuddle up with your buddies, grab your favorite snacks, and sharpen your shadiest claws.

Want to meet this show somewhere?

It's conveniently up in a lot of places! Pick your poison:

GagaOOLala

WeTV

iQIYI

Viki

YouTube

Look, I'm going to say it one more time for the people in the back row: This is not a serious, thoughtful portrayal of healthy relationship dynamics. If you expect it to be, you will be sorely disappointed. It is a tale of a bunch of dudes (and, like, two women) whose emotional volume knobs are stuck at eleven and emotional intelligence doesn't go above a two. Go into it knowing what you're getting into, and you might just have yourself a pretty good time.

Get that little kissie!

[ceruleanstargaze]

A while back, me and one of my friends were walking about how hamsters can die in the stupidest ways...

So wrote a little thing about if MC gave the brothers hamsters, how they would die

TW: animal death, of hamsters, it's not graphic or anything just simple sentences -- oh and swearing.... Idk if anyone cares abt that

Lucifer

He probably would try to teach it something like a trick but it would be too dumb to understand and bite his finger. He would just let it sit on his desk in its cage before it could die in one of 3 ways

1. Paperwork got piled up on his desk and covered the hamsters cage, it died from neglect and Lucifer's forgetfulness of it

2. He sneezed or made a loud sound and gave it a heart attack so it died

3. It chewed through its cage and before Lucifer could stop it, the hamster drank his pen ink and fucking died...

Mammon

He probably didn't last long with it because he yelled too loud.

OR, it chewed on his credit card (Goldie) so he shook his card to get it off in a panic and the hamster died from him too vigorously shaking Goldie. The damn hamster died before it even hit the floor.

Leviathan

We know Levi has pets already, so I feel like it would be pretty long lasting. I mean longer than ANYONE could ever in the house because he would remember to tend to it.

Until it either:

1. ran away

2. fell into Henry 2.0's fish tank (or any of the various tanks in his room) and DROWNED.

Satan

He wouldn't have it for that long. Like, at all.

He would probably try to make the hamster and the cat get along and the cat would kill the hamster. Like how cats kill mice and give them to their owners as gifts.

Asmodeus

Asmo would have his for some time, he would definitely decorate its cage and give it like some pretty shit before the hamster started eating the decorations.

Little did Asmo know, what he decorated the cage with could kill the hamster of it ate it. So it died from that.

Beelzebub

Ate it.

No other words. Was it on purpose? Was it on accident? No one knows.

Belphegor

One of two ways this could go, he crushed it or intentionally killed it

1. While Belphie was sleeping the hamster basically chewed through it's cage, got to where Belphie was sleeping and he rolled over crushing the hamster and killing it.

2. It would be like some "how to tell if my son is a psychopath" and one of the things is like torturing small animals. Yeah, that bitch is a murderer and he killed it from just "playing" with it.

So, the order of who's hamster would die first?

1. Beelzebub

2. Belphegor

3. Satan

4. Mammon

5. Asmodeus

6. Lucifer

7. Leviathan

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity, descriptions of dead bodies, bugs

A/N: Enjoy part 2 babes!!!!

Part 1

The worst part about a crime scene was not seeing the dead bodies, it was smelling them as soon as you entered the house. However, seeing them was not exactly great either. 

This would have been much better advice than Derek telling you seeing a dead body for the first time can be a bit freaky. 

You don’t really know why you agreed to go to the crime scene, but God did you fucking regret it now. Your eyes were starting to water and your hands were ever so slightly shaking. It was clear to you that all the profilers around you knew what you felt. Even if you were hard to read, they would have known just by the way you stopped talking. 

Hotch gently put his hand on your arm, causing you to jump slightly and give him a small smile. He led you both to the kitchen to sit down for a moment, giving you a moment away from the whole scene. 

Looking at the pictures was so different than seeing it in person. Someone actually dipped their hand in the neck of someone else and wrote on the wall in their blood. And they were cold and calculated enough to put gloves on first so there was no DNA left behind. Fucking psychopath. 

“Y/n?” 

You looked up from your hands and let out a curt laugh when a tear fell down your cheek. “Shit. Sorry.” Quickly wiping it away, you looked back down at your hands. “Sorry, I just….”

“It’s a lot.” 

“Why–why do you need me here Hotch.”

He nodded and looked back at the living room. “Because we have a feeling the way he’s positioning the bodies might help us figure something else out, and you are our resident expert.” 

“Don’t let Reid hear you say that. He might just have an aneurysm.” You muttered, a small smile on your face. 

It got Hotch to smile in response. “He knows that you know more about this than him. Don’t worry. Can you get back in there or would you like us to take pictures and send them to you?” 

You shook your head and stood up. “I’m fine. Just an initial shock I guess. Thank you, Hotch.” 

The two of you walked back into the living room, and you were still grateful that you decided to forgo lunch, not giving your stomach any ammo in case it decided to evacuate your body. 

The scene was gruesome. The wife’s body was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace arms above her head as if she was lifting something. Her blonde hair had been stained red, almost purposefully with blood, and braided into two long braids that came down the front of her chest. The only indication of any blood on her body, besides the gaping wound on her neck, was that the palms of her hands were coated in now-dried blood. 

“It’s um.” You closed your eyes for a second. “It’s John Singer Sargent.” 

“The famous painter?” Spencer turned to look at you from across the room where he had been talking to Prentiss. 

You nodded. “His, uh. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, where she um, lifts the crown onto her head…It’s massive, like seven feet tall, four feet wide, at the Tate Britain in London.” 

“What does this have to do with her.” Derek gestured to the corpse on the floor. Spencer, who noted that you really couldn’t take your eyes off of the body, pulled out his phone and quickly found the painting you were referencing. 

“Oh wow,” Morgan muttered. “He even dressed her in the same shade of green…”

“It’s one of the most famous portrayals of Lady Macbeth out there. Her dress was decorated with….” Your eyes widened. 

“With what.” Hotch walked over to you and looked between you and the body, and then over to Spencer. “What was her dress decorated with.” 

Spencer quickly made his way over to you and kneeled next to the wife. “Oh my god.” 

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Derek crossed his arms, unamused by the lack of information being spread around. 

“Beetles. Ellen Terry’s dress was decorated with the wings of beetles.” You spoke up.  _________________________________________________________

Spencer had volunteered to drive you back to the station so that you could look at the actual bodies of the previous victims to see if you could find more details that they had missed. 

“This one, Spencer, she’s uh…” You bit your lip, looking at the first set of victims. “This was the Romeo and Juliet one right? Because she’s draped on top of him like every production and painting of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen. If we have to go specifics then I would say probably “The Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets” by Leighton. And the um…” You placed that image down and hunted for another one. 

“And this one is the Hamlet one since she’s positioned exactly like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Milais’ painting. The Pre-Raphelite one with all the flowers. Look at the sheet the unsub placed her on, it’s completely floral, and did the autopsy come back saying she had drowned, or was drowned and then resuscitated or something?” 

Spencer nodded. He was honestly in awe of you. The way you reset your head when you left the crime scene. The urgency you had developed. The sheer breadth of knowledge you possessed just continued to make him fall head first for you. Not that he could ever do anything about it since you lived in London half of the time, and he was always traveling around the US with no sort of set schedule. 

“And…uh, where is it.” 

“What are you looking for?” 

“The one with the, uh, um. What the fuck was that guy’s name?” 

Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you talking about Caesar?” 

“YES. God. I always forget his name. Portia. She swallowed hot coals to kill herself right? But in the picture…” You pulled the photo out of the depths of the pile. “There’s a wound on the wife’s leg. Her cause of death was bleeding out, right? With the way she’s draped on the bed, and her husband is in the other room, it’s not the show. I think it’s the baroque piece of Portia by, uh, um…oh shit what was her name….” 

Watching you work literally made Spencer’s heart want to bleed. He would actually propose to you on the spot if it wasn’t an extremely insensitive time to do so, and also you weren’t even dating. It was baffling to him that he had only known you for three days.

“Elisabetta Sirani!” You pulled out your phone and looked up the picture, and lo and behold, it matched the body. 

“I think that it’s an art student, or someone heavily involved in art. Some of these are famous paintings, sure, but others? There’s a history there Spence. I only know these paintings because of my Ph.D. Sirani is not as common an artist as she should be.”

He sputtered at the nickname but quickly recovered. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.” 

You smiled at him and he smiled right back at you. 

There was too long of a pause. It shouldn’t have happened at all really. But the sheriff knocked on the door, misinterpreting the stare for something more aggressive. “I don’t mean to break up whatever yelling session is about to happen, but the autopsy report came back…those were real wings.”

You looked back over at Spencer. “Tell him to get the team back. You guys need to give the profile.”  _____________________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand where someone even gets that many beetle wings. It’s not like you can order them online and have them shipped to your house.” 

“That tells you how premeditated this was then.” 

“Woman, where have you been all our lives.” 

You laughed and Derek smiled over at you. 

“No, seriously Y/n. I never thought Art history could be so…”

“Violent?” You guessed, smirking slightly and shaking her head. “There’s a painting I think yo should look up Derek. Well a few of them—Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya is a favorite of mine, and then Judith Beheading Holofernes by Virmiglio has a shit ton of blood in it…or if you want some heartbreak, I am personally fond of Caleron’s Broken Vows, or anything portraying the Kiss of Franchesca and Paulo.” 

“I just don’t get how you can store all of this in your head.” Derek pulled up to the college campus and flashed his badge at the campus security, who let him through the gate. 

“Well, I don’t know how to take apart a gun, and then put it back together, let alone fire it. We all have our different skills.” 

This caused Derek to laugh. “Touche.” 

The two of you pulled up to the building with the offices of the Art History faculty and looked around the campus. “This is a massive campus, Derek. I’m pretty sure they have an MA and a Ph.D. in Art History beyond undergrad…”

“Believe it or not, this is not our first murderous college student case.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Great. It’s good to know the youth of America are doing alright.” 

That caused Derek to crack a smile. “Well. Let’s go find this professor and see what we can find out.”  

The trek across campus brought you back to your college days. It was kind of nice to see that kids still hung out on the lawns and with one another, not just staring at their phones and laptops all of the time. 

The both of you made your way up to the stairs of this slightly blocky building. It felt a bit like a museum with the amount of artifacts that they kept on the first and second floors, but as you walked through the fifth floor offices, your face started to fall. 

“Derek what was the name of the professor we were supposed to talk to?” You whispered, slowly moving to a stop. 

He turned and looked at you. “uh…Doctor Kolek, why?” 

You pointed to the door you stopped in front of. 

It was slightly ajar and looked as if the lock had been busted. Morgan quickly, pulled out his gun and shoved you behind him, calling out the woman’s name as you both held your breath. 

When there was no response, Derek slowly pushed the door open. Her office was a wreck, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Papers were scattered, there were frames on the floor, and a dent in the wall as if someone had tried to throw something at someone. You called out the woman’s name again, only to gasp. Derek turned and faced the same way you were looking. 

Doctor Kolek was face down on the floor. There was no blood around her, and the room didn’t smell like death, so that was a good sign, but she was clearly unconscious. Derek quickly rolled her over and checked for her vitals. 

“She’s still breathing. Call a medic.” 

You scrambled to pull out your phone, dialing 911.