#SHE WAS STILL SPITTIN

[bogor-o]

i forgot to upload these here OOPS thinking about my goat(every pronoun) lately and how they're just such a nuisance to ovidia 😌 goat doesnt hate ovidia by any means, theres a sense of respect in being two people who have killed to become god. but they just dont like that shes not tried to utilize her position as the one true god of her world to control everything by force, especially since it's so obvious too them how shes wasting time by manipulating others with false kindness "Give them reason to know your word is honest. If they truly believe in you then they will accept when you must be cruel. No one can uncover secrets that do not exist." ovidia doesnt like the goat but sometiiiimes... they're not spittin too much nonsense............ still hates how their bones are basically just suggestions

[oreo-creampies]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Light gun play, begging, edging, squirting, Daddy/mama (toji’s) thumb in the ass, degradation/praise, gangbang, double penetration/triple penetration, satoru has three clones and you have three holes, suguru and satoru jerk each other off watching you, edging, hentai monster cock double dick logic you shouldn’t question, size kink, huge true form sukuna, very lightly bratty!reader (Sukuna’s), queen of succubus!reader (Sukuna’s), light pain kink, threesome, accidentally cumming, overstimulation, creative use of Satoru’s clones

Oreo: couldn’t get this thought outta my head 🫠 / @zoyakuna is holding me hostage till I post it 💀

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Toji’s fat head tugging on your tight, sloppy wet cunt. “Flithy whores like you gotta earn the right to cum. Beg let me hear how badly you need my cock.” The gun clicks when he cocks it. Clenching his fat cock head when the cool steel touches the side of your head.

He slaps your ass, slamming his cock in when you cry, twisting the sound into a loud moan. “Fuck fuck fuck that feels so good! Please split me open with your fat cock I need to cum on your cock!” You’re getting off on the puffiness of his veins, the softness of his skin constrasting how hard he is.

He grabs a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, spitting. Smearing it with his finger on your tight hole with his thick thumb. “Please daddy! Please please! I wanna cum! Wanna cum! Only you can make me cum so hard I forget my name. Please.” Toji slowly pushes his thick thumb into your tight ass.

You look so beautiful taking his fat cock with your sweet little cunt. Clenching him painfully tight. “You feel so fuckinm good! Nnn mama that’s it take Daddy’s cock in your throbbing little cunt. Squeeze me like that.” Your cunt is squeching, toes curling, thighs trembling, gripping the sheets tighter.

Pushing your hips back he stops moving. “Wanna use my cock like a toy? Fuck me mama fuck your tight little cunt into a gapping mess on Daddy’s fat cock.” Backing your ass up, taking Toji’s cock in quick, long strokes.

Having a cock inside you never felt so good before. The weight of his heavy cock, his head nudging your cervix is perfectly too much. “Nn fuck me Toji. How can you reach that deep! Nnn you have such a big cock don't wanna stop! Want you to break my cunt, fill me full of cum.” Looking back at him, he’s beautiful with flushed cheeks, dark hair hanging into passionate forest green eyes. “Please lemme cum! Please daddy!”

Clenching Toji’s thick cock, bounce your hips faster. He squeezing your hips, his jaw dropping, “Nnn daddy got a big cock huh? I'm stretching your soft little wet cunt out?” Taking his fat cock into your squechling cunt faster.

Getting off on how you’re riding Toji’s cock, backing your ass up on him moaning like a whore. “Ya feel too good! Nnn wanna feel you cum! Lemme feel your beautiful slutty tight cunt gush on my cock.” The gun trembles in his hand, pulling it away from your head.

Trailing the tip of the barrel along your spine. Squeezing your cheek, his thumb still buried in ass, Toji pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts. You’re gushing thick warm cum on his fat, being cock, soaking his balls.

Your mind blank, jaw slacked, body trembling, pussy clenching, spasming. Toji doesn't stop, smacking your ass with the side of the gun, then dropping it on the bed. Propping his foot up in the edge, grabbing your hair yanking your head back fucking his big cock into your faster.

“Wanna fuck! Wanna! Please! Daddy! Wanna keep taking your fat cock nnn ahh nnn fuck I can feel your veins pulsing! You’re cum is gonna be so warm in my cunt. Wanna feel your hot cum! Please cum in me!” His large balls are slapping your cunt.

“Think cummin’ is gonna stop me? Nah lil mama ya begged to cum, I'm not stopping till I'm sure she’s broken and won’t cum for me anymore.” Letting go of your hair, gliding his thumb out of your ass, spitting on your tight hole. You can take it can't ya?” He glides a thick finger into your ass.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 & 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Satoru and Suguru jerk each other off watching Satoru’s clones fuck every one of your sloppy wet holes. Thick cum is covering your beautiful tits, smeared along your soft thighs.

The clone beneath you spreading your thighs apart for the one above. Your wrist pinned to the bed by the clone fucking your mouth. Unable to move, you’re a needy slut getting fucked for their entertainment.

Satoru moans, enjoying watching his clones make a wreck of his friend. “This is so much better than watching porn. Fuck look at our new pathetic little slut.” Satoru swirls his hand along Suguru’s thicker cock. Jerking his hips when Suguru speeds his hand up, forcing on pumping right below Satoru’s head, getting him so close to cumming he’s about to bust on Suguru’s fist.

“I think we broke her already and she hasn't even cummed.” Satoru glides his cock out with a pop, giving his cock a couple of quick pumps cumming on your face. Smearing it by setting his large balls on your face, pinch your nipple, tugging on it.

Whining, trying to catch your breath. The clone vanishes, the cum remaining on your face, with your hands free from the clone kneeling on them. “Gonna take more than that, I wanna cum. Please!” Satoru bottoms out of your needy cunt, the clone beneath him steadily fucking your ass.

His long being cock is the perfect thickness for your ass. You’re so needy, too worked up, despite the lack of attention to your cunt in couple more strokes you might cum from getting your ass fucked. Then Satoru stops, leaving your wanting with your ass stuffed full of cock.

He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. Standing up, holding your legs apart. You’re watching them jerk each other off, they’re two beautiful muscular men sitting beside each other, stroking each other's veiny hard cocks. Suguru’s is heavy enough he droops when Satoru’s hand reaches the bottom of Suguru’s thick cock.

“Rub your cocks together inside me. Please I soak your cocks with my cum.” Suguru glances down at Satoru’s messy cock. His head getting redder the longer he keeps from cumming. Suguru stops cupping Satoru’s pale balls, watching his cock twitch, lightly bouncing up. The veins pulsing, he was closer than you when Satoru’s clone bottomed out of your cunt.

The clone sits down and vanishes, you hit the bed. Suguru looks at you with a cocky, hungry smirk, letting go of Satoru’s balls. Satoru rubs his thumb over Suguru’s cock head, swiping off his pre cum. Leaning over and kissing Suguru’s cheek.

Satoru sets his attention back onto you. You spread your legs, showing your sloppy wet cunt, sinking a finger into your hot cunt. It’s not enough, after being stuffed full and covered in cum. “Please lemme cum, I don't think I take it anymore. My clit ‘s throbbing please!” Suguru crooks his finger, standing up, your knees buckle, and before you can hit the floor Satoru grabs your neck.

Bending down, holding you in place by your neck, he grabs your thigh, lifting your up. Stepping away from the bed to give Suguru space to get behind you. He grabs Satoru’s cock lining him up, Satoru slams you down on his cock.

Smiling, moaning “Please please wanna cum, nnn feeling your head so deep. I can’y believe I got your cock inside me, nnn I feel like a whore.” Wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders slipping your fingers into Satoru’s soft fluffy hair.

Suguru grabs your hair, lining his cock up with your stuffed cunt, nudging his thicker head in. Your eyes widen, your cunt struggling to take him. “Nnn fuck you’re makin’ her sloppy wet cunt tighter.” Satoru slowly glides his cock, moaning, spitting on your cum covered face. Grabbing your jaw, smearing his along your cheek.

“You’re nothing but a cum covered needy little whore whose greatest weakness is getting how badly she needs to get her little cunt stuffed. That’s why you almost got hurt isn't it? You were too busy checking Suguru and I out thinking about our cock while you were supposed to be working.” His head rubbing your sweet spot causing the sweet burning ache from getting stretched to wide to quickly fade away.

“Yes!!! You sat on their face it wasn't fair! Suguru’s shirt got ripped and my cunt was dripping. I couldn't think straight.” They time their pace, stroking each other cocks inside of your. Pounding your tight, sloppy wet cunt into a mess.

Satoru nudges your lips with his thumb, you can taste Suguru’s pre cum. “I don't think she deserve to cum after how worried she got us. Ya could have told us what a whore you are for us. We could have taken care of this needy cunt of your’s before work.” Suguru lets go of your hair, leaning to kiss Satoru, pressing your face into Satoru’s hard pecs.

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Digging your nails into Sukuna’s thick pecs, clenching nothing when he glides his cock out. Your clit twitches from the lack of intense stimulation. You’re too empty needing his thick cocks splitting you open.

Crying in frustration, “Nnn stop teasin’ make me cum with your fat cocks!” Sukuna grabs your neck cutting off your needy whines. Gliding off his fat, veiny cocks sliding out with a soft wet pop.

Narrowing his hungry, beautiful crimson eyes. “What was that?” Tilting his head to the side, his cocky smirk making your cunt throb. Fuck Sukuna’s so beautiful looking down at you. The dark ink  accentuates his angular jawline.

“You think you’re in a position to demand shit from me?” He slaps your cunt, jerking your legs shut from the sharp sting. He yanks your legs back open. “Should’ve been a good cock sleeve moan and take my cock like a good whore.” Another harsh slap, his hands bites your thighs.

Failing to squirm, Sukuna’s grasp getting tighter, teeth sinking in deeper. The sweet pain pooling in your needy cunt, clenching around nothing wishing you were stuffed full again. “You slutty little cunt would’ve cummed eventually. My cocks are too good for you not too.” You would cry if not for his large hand crushing your neck.

Lowering you onto his monstrously thick cock. You can’t get over how his head fat enough to cover your whole sloppy cunt. Sukuna rubs your soft lips and sensitive clit with gentle swipes.

You love how enormous Sukuna is in his true form. He’s a ten feet tall, well sculpted beautiful muscular monster with two cocks he’s obsessed with stuffing in your cunt. With a lust that tastes sweet n’ spicy. Y

The mouths on his hands suck their aching bites. Gliding his hands to your hips, biting down, sinking his fingers into the soft squishy crease of your hips.

Holding both cocks together, nudging your soft, sloppy wet cunt. “Nn fuck you got the tightest sloppiest cunt, ‘sooo fuckin’ good too bad you can’t cum tonight.” Licking your clit with the thick tongue from his stomach.

Loosening his grasp on your neck, grabbing your hair, yanking your head back. Bouncing you faster faster, his fat head rubs your sweet spot with every quick, rough strokes. Flicking your clit faster, you’re getting so close too quickly, it build up alone is becoming too much.

Spasming around him, your eyes watering. “I really wanna cum! I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to sound like I was demanding. You’re cocks always feel good n’ you always make me cum the hardest! Please! Please! I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’ll be good!” He glides you off his cocks, pulling his tongue away from your clit.

Crying, “I’m sorry my king, I’ll take whatever punishment you see fit. Nnn!” Turning you around, holding you to his chest by a firm grasp on your neck. Barely letting you breath, your body becoming heavy and tingly from the restriction of air.

It didn’t matter if you could move, Sukuna could fuck you on his cock like a flesh light.

Looking into the mirror, your small in the grasp of a insatiable King of hell. Reaching up, he leans down letting you grab his thick black horn twisting out of his dark hair. “That it, just for that if make it till sunrise I’ll let you squirt on my face. If your subjects saw their great Queen now. A pathetic whore who begs for my cocks.” Your eyes widen as your small hole takes Sukuna’s veiny, fat cocks.

You’re face painted with a beautiful expression of ecstasy. You’re so worked up, too sensitive. Holding a hand over your clit, stroking it with a warm tongue. Tightening your grasp on his horn Sukuna moans, his hips shuttering.

Whining, “Gonnnnnaaaa!” You’re squirting before either of you can realize how close you are. “Couldn’t handle! You’re cocks! Too! Too! Too! Good! Sorry! I’m sorry!” He doesn’t bother stopping, fucking you roughly through your intense high as punishment.

Your body trembling, eyes rolling back, toes curling and cunt squelching. “Stupid fuckin’ whore, I didn’t tell you to cum.” Pinching your sensitive clit, ruining the intense high from cumming so hard. “Look like I’ll have to take my time breaking you.”

Oreo’s m.list

[gweelczz]

“Roots and Remedies”

Elias “Stack” Moore x Honey (OC)

Genre: Fluff with slight violence

Summary: Somebody tries Stack’s woman and Stack ain’t fucking with it

The sun was low and hot, spitting fire across the cracked concrete outside Roots & Remedies. Honey was standin’ on a stepstool inside, fixin’ a jar of bay leaves onto a shelf when she heard the ruckus — a voice, loud and ugly, barkin’ out over the quiet hum of the evening.

“Witchcraft! Devil’s work!” the man hollered, spittin’ onto the sidewalk like the ground itself owed him somethin’.

Honey set the jar down slow, wiped her hands on her skirt, and stepped outside. The man was a wiry little thing, face already turnin’ beet red, sweatin’ through his cheap button-up.

Her deep cognac eyes narrowed. “Ain’t nobody botherin’ you, sir,” she said, voice smooth but firm, her thick 4c coils tucked away in a pretty deep-purple headwrap that caught the light. “You best go on ’bout your business.”

“Business?” the man barked, takin’ a step toward her. “This ain’t business, it’s blasphemy! You sellin’ evil! Cursin’ folks!” He jabbed a finger toward the sign painted on the window — Herbs, Remedies, Roots.

A few folks lingered at the curb, watchin’.

Honey didn’t flinch. “Ain’t no curses here,” she said coolly. “Just folks tryna heal a little. You don’t like it, you can move along.”

The man puffed up, lookin’ like a rooster about to pop a vein. “You better shut this place down ’fore somebody shuts it down for you!”

Before Honey could open her mouth again, she heard it — that low, heavy scrape of boots on pavement. She didn’t even need to turn around.

Stack.

He moved like a storm rollin’ in — tall, broad, dressed in a suit with a red tie and hat accompanied by a cigar. Smoke flanked him dressed in a tweed suit with blue, cigarette in hand that Stack had rolled for him, cut from the same rough cloth.

Stack stopped right between her and the fool, thumb hooked lazy in his belt loop, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

“You heard the lady,” Stack said, voice a slow southern drawl, gritty like gravel. “Get the hell on.”

The man sneered, takin’ in Stack and then Smoke, eyes bouncin’ back and forth.

“Y’all supposed to be twins?” he asked, snickering like he thought he was clever.

Stack smirked his voice low and laced humor. He tilts his head down a bit, grills showing, “Nah we cousins.”

The fool laughed — a nervous, ugly sound — and shoved Stack right in the chest.

That was it.

Stack’s fist cracked into his jaw before the man could even blink, knockin’ him flat on his back. He let out a pitiful grunt, lyin’ there, stunned.

Smoke stepped up, starin’ down at him, his gold tooth flashin’ when he gave a cold, sharp laugh. “Told you, you dumbass.”

Honey watched it all with her arms crossed, lips pursed, but there was a little curl of pride under it too.

Stack turned back to her, brown eyes softer now when he looked at her. He reached out, thumb brushing lightly over her jawline.

“You alright, baby girl?” he drawled, low and rough like molasses.

“I’m good, sugar,” she said, voice just as slow, just as thick. Her hand slipped up to lightly squeeze his wrist — strong, calloused, warm.

He dipped his head a little, like he might kiss her right there if there weren’t still folks watchin’. Instead, he tucked her close under his arm, leadin’ her back toward the shop.

Smoke lingered just long enough to nudge the groanin’ man with the toe of his boot, makin’ sure he stayed down.

The door to Roots & Remedies swung shut behind them, the bell jinglin’ soft-like. Outside, the street buzzed with whispers and side-eyes, but inside, it was just them — the sharp scent of dried herbs, the creak of old wood under their boots, and the feelin’ that, no matter what foolishness tried to stir up outside, this was Honey’s ground.

And Stack?

He’d fight the devil himself before he let anybody take it from her.

⸻

Inside Roots & Remedies, the air was heavy with the scent of cedar and lavender, the last light of the sun stretchin’ long across the wooden floors.

Stack let the door fall shut behind him, the little bell jinglin’ once, then nothin’ but the sound of their boots against the worn floorboards.

Honey pulled away just enough to turn and look at him — her thick lashes low, cognac eyes glintin’ warm but wary. She untied her headwrap slow, lettin’ some of her thick black coils tumble free down her back, a habit she always did when she needed to breathe deep.

“You ain’t had to do all that, Stack,” she said soft, but the way she was lookin’ at him said she wasn’t mad about it neither.

Stack shrugged like it was nothin’, shoulders rollin’ slow under his tank, tattoos catchin’ the low light.

“You know I ain’t gon’ let no man talk crazy to you,” he said, voice thick, drawlin’ rough around the edges. “Ain’t gon’ happen, not while I’m breathin’.”

Honey leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed, watchin’ him like she was tryin’ to see right down into his soul.

“You always been hardheaded like that,” she teased, but there was a tremble in her voice. One she couldn’t hide.

Stack stepped closer, boots heavy on the old wood, until there weren’t no space left between ‘em. His hands found her waist easy, rough palms slidin’ over the soft curve of her sides, holdin’ her like he was afraid she’d slip away.

He dipped his head low, forehead nearly brushin’ hers. His breath was hot against her lips.

“I gotta ride out soon,” he muttered, voice grittier than gravel. “Handle somethin’.”

Honey’s heart kicked up hard. She knew Stack’s somethin’ was never clean. Never easy.

Her fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, holdin’ on tight. “Stack, don’t you—”

“I ain’t makin’ no promises I can’t keep,” he cut in, his thumb strokin’ slow over her hip. “But I’m tellin’ you right now… when I get back?” He pulled her closer, voice low like a prayer.

“I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You gon’ be mine, Honey. Whole town gonna know it.”

Honey blinked up at him, heart slammin’ against her ribs, tears burnin’ the backs of her eyes — but she didn’t let ’em fall. Not yet.

“You betta come back to me,” she whispered, voice breakin’ just a little.

Stack gave her a half-smile, all sharp teeth and reckless heart. He kissed her forehead slow — a kiss that felt like it was settin’ a mark only she could see.

But before he could step away, Honey caught his hand, holdin’ him still.

“Wait,” she said, voice steady now.

She moved behind the counter quick, grabbin’ a small velvet pouch and two tiny bottles filled with oil. She handed one pouch and one bottle to Stack, the other set into Smoke’s calloused hand.

“Keep these on you,” Honey said, voice low, almost sacred. “I blessed ‘em myself. For protection. For strength. For comin’ home.”

Stack looked down at the little pouch in his hand, then back up at her — somethin’ hot and tender flashin’ in his eyes that he didn’t dare speak on.

Honey stepped even closer, pressin’ her palm flat against Stack’s chest, right over his heart. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, her voice thick with old words passed down from her grandmama and the women before her — words stitched with faith, strength, and stubborn hope.

When she finished, she pressed one last kiss to his knuckles, the ones already bruisin’ from the earlier fight.

Then she let him go.

Stack headed for the door without lookin’ back, pushin’ it open so hard the bell above it jangled wild, like it knew somethin’ was comin’.

Honey stood there, chest tight, clutchin’ the edge of the counter, watchin’ him disappear into the blood-red dusk — feelin’ in her bones that whatever Stack was walkin’ into, it might not let him come back easy.

If he came back at all.

Next chapter

[oceantornadoo]

okay but best frien johnny who gets in your last nerve when you’re pms-ing or ovulating. and he absolutely knows what he’s doing bc he tracks ur cycle

“johnny, just stop! god, it’s like you’re a little boy.” you get up in a huff, leaving a bewildered gaz and johnny in the common room. johnny’s still loosely gripping the remote you were fighting over, stuck doing mental math as he watches your retreating figure stomp down the hall and out of sight.

gaz breaks the tension by snatching the remote out of johnny’s hand, a murmured “sorry, mate” as he picks the first action movie he sees, just to have some background noise. it doesn’t drown out the buzzing in johnny’s head or the concerned look gaz is shooting his way, that ever-present cap doing little to hide his questioning eyes. “‘s fine. the lass isn’t feelin’ her best. gonna go check up on her.” he jerks his body off the couch, not waiting for an ok by gaz as johnny makes his way to your room.

you’d been snappy at him all week. critiquing his messy room (he preferred the term eclectic), his handsiness (was never an issue before), even his smell (he knew you liked his musk though). suddenly, he had an inkling to check that app on his phone, the one hooked up to your period tracker, and lo and behold, he had his answer. now it was a matter of getting on the right side of your hormones.

johnny stopped in front of your door, fishing out the copy of your key he made, unlocking it without announcing himself. he walked in on you changing, hand on your back to unhook your bra as you slipped out of your day clothes. you didn't acknowledge him, instead slipping on your pajama shirt (one of his old ones) and taking off your underwear, kicking it towards your laundry bag as you pulled on sleep shorts. "now who's bein' messy?" johnny muttered, ignoring your scoff as he picked up your discarded underwear and placed it in your laundry hamper. "you here to apologize?" you spit out, refusing to make eye contact as you looked in your mirror, pulling your shirt this way and that. johnny stalked over to where you were standing, settling behind you as he met your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head. "yer period's comin' soon, bonnie. 's why yer all mean an' spittin'."

your mouth dropped at the insinuation, taking a step forward to get out of his atmosphere. unfortunately, he followed you, taking two steps until your back was flush against his chest. one hairy paw reached out to cup your breast over your shirt, his fingers ignoring your pointed nipples as he squeezed you to his liking. "tender?" all you could do was nod and bite back the pain he was sending your way, hormonal nerves shouting at you to stop him. his hand traveled to your stomach, rolling your pudge between his fingers. "bloated?" you nodded again, his motions giving you no relief from your pms symptoms. he didn't seem to care, focusing more on your body reactions. "skin's hot. temp's goin' up, hm?" so that's why you woke up in a sweat last night. which you didn't even tell him about...

"you're being weird, johnny. how do you know all this?" he shrugged, his hand on your stomach traveling again to cup your pussy, his other hand sliding against your spine to reach the back of your neck. "what are best friends for? i know she's all sensitive." he squeezed your cunt for emphasis. "think i should kiss her an' make it all better, mo leannen?" you nodded silently. he pulled down your shorts and got to his knees, turning so he was eye-to-cunt with your sensitive pussy. he gave her a sniff, then a kiss on your clit. another for emphasis, tongue flicking in like he was trying to make out with her. the angle was all bad, the pleasure minimal, which he knew. it was for pure emphasis - to stake his claim that he knew you better than you knew yourself. after another kiss, he rose back up, righting your shorts. "c'mon, need yer sleep before the blood comes." it would be impossible to sleep with him, an absolute human furnace, but you went along anyways, your best friend johnny leading the way.

more best friend!johnny here!

[chukys-mouthguard]

good graces

you do something suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

featuring -> william nylander x female reader

genre -> angst/fluff

word count -> 1.35k

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

“Have you seen Willy on Spittin’ Chiclets yet?”

Your friend called to you from the kitchen as she started on making drinks while you were taking a bit longer on your makeup than you would’ve liked.

“Fuck I forgot, let me pull it up.”

You and William had been seeing each other for almost nine months now, though not putting a label on it things were pretty serious. Having taken numerous trips together, William constantly spoiling you, all while telling you he couldn’t imagine his life not getting to be your guy.

He’d gotten invited onto the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast and you were excited to watch. It was one of your favorite shows, but you also were anticipating them to ask William some hilarious questions.

“Okay so, we gotta ask. You’re a young guy here in Toronto, dare I say you’re a stud! What’s the dating scene like here in Toronto? You tied down by a lucky lady, what do you have going on?”

William chuckled as you quickly flashed your eyes to the screen of your cell phone, seeing the way he blushed at them asking the question. While you knew this podcast had been filmed several weeks ago, you were still aware of what his answer should be, at least from your perspective. But as he hesitated, and stumbled over his words you could feel your grip on your eyeliner tightening.

“Yeah um, I’m definitely here for a good time. Not really tied down, just enjoying my time here for sure with whoever comes into my life. But, I like to think I do alright for myself.”

Pausing the video you emerged from the bathroom to find your friend with the same look of shock on her face as you currently had on your own.

“Are you joking?”

“He’s fucking dead. Not really tied down? Is he stupid?”

You couldn’t believe William had actually said those words, not really tied down. Had the last nine months been something casual and meant nothing to him? Here you were ready to go out to dinner with him and some friends, but now all you could repeat through your brain was that interview.

“What are you gonna do?”

You headed over to the bar cart, grabbing a shot glass and the tequila. Throwing back a shot before you hurried back to finish your makeup.

“I can’t bail, but he’s going to see a side of me he won’t like if he doesn’t acknowledge it, that's for sure.”

You’d arrived at the restaurant, the few tequila shots you’d tossed back calming your frustrations a bit, though you were still upset with William. Not wanting to ruin the night you figured the least you could do was power through a dinner and not give away any sign you were unhappy with him.

But as the dinner unfolded, it was as if anything William did was coming across as suspect. The way he smiled at the waitress, calling her sweetheart anytime she’d checked in or brought him something. The way he would place his hand atop hers anytime she’d stop by the table and ask if he needed anything. Your anger only building as you thought back to his comments on the podcast, rolling your eyes thinking that everything with him was just a casual fling to him. Despite how much he’d meant to you.

He caught you staring at him from across the table, you’d opted to sit across from him versus next to him so you could give yourself a bit of space to try and give him the opportunity to notice your mood. But he didn’t necessarily catch on, acting as if things were normal other than where you’d chosen to sit.

With dinner wrapping up, you’d all chosen to go to one of the bars down the street. William now noticed how you were walking arm in arm with your friend rather than by his side. He called out to you, simply getting the cold shoulder as you elected to keep walking as if you hadn’t heard him. Your mind focused on getting to the bar and getting some more drinks in your system, needing to channel your frustrations through alcohol and dancing.

William opted to sit with the group, watching you dancing on the floor with your friend. Figuring that he’d done something to piss you off, but he didn’t know what. Usually the two of you could talk through things, but it was clear you had no desire to talk to him tonight. And he knew better than to push you or force anything on you, simply giving you the space you wanted.

His eyes followed you as you made your way to the bar, a guy soon approaching you as you ordered a drink. William fully expected you to kindly dismiss the man, but instead he saw you laughing and smiling. Your hand resting on the man’s forearm as you were clearly enjoying yourself. He tossed back his drink in frustration as he stood up, making his way to the bar to step in before you’d do anything further to really anger him.

“Hey, everything okay?”

William smiled down at you as he rested a hand at your lower back, flashing his eyes to the gentleman with a bit of a glare. Only to be met with a smile as the man had recognized the blonde haired Maple Leaf that stood before him.

“Yeah, William, you know Joey. Joey Loperfido, outfield for the Blue Jays. He’s actually a really big Leafs fan!”

“How are you man? I’m a big fan of yours as well! I was actually at the game last week, great win!”

The two of them shook hands, though Joey sensed some tension and kindly excused himself.

“Really Willy? I was making friends.”

“Friends? Is that what you called that? I saw from a mile away you were flirting with the guy!”

He scoffed as he rolled his eyes, taking the spot in front of you at the bar as he signaled the bartender for another drink.

“Like you care? This is just enjoying time with whoever comes into your life, remember?”

William looked at you confused, unsure as to what you were talking about. Making you laugh as you sipped your drink, rolling your eyes as you found it hilarious he was trying to play dumb.

“I heard you on the Spittin’ Chiclets podcast, don’t play dumb! Has the last nine months meant nothing to you? I mean, you tell me all the time how much you love being my guy, but could’ve fooled me with the answer you gave Biz and Whit.”

William immediately brought a hand to his face, groaning as he realized now what you were referring to.

“Y/n, baby, look at me.”

He brought his hands to your face, despite your trying to push him away. A smile on his face as he looked at you.

“The Spittin’ Chiclets podcast is the last place I would ever want to confirm or announce you as my girlfriend.”

Your eyes went wide hearing him call you his girlfriend, the title not being something he’d ever used before. And while you wanted to be mad at him for what he said, it was hard hearing how amazing it felt hearing him finally call you his girlfriend.

“Wait, like, we are official now? I’m your girlfriend?”

“If you’ll have me as your boyfriend? Though after tonight I’m not so sure.”

Quickly you pulled his lips to yours, feeling amazing to kiss him after being distant from him all night. He smiled into the kiss, assuming that was your answer. And it was a good enough answer for him.

“But so help me god William Nylander, if you ever say some dumb shit like that again, you do not want to bring out my mean side.”

He chuckled at your scolding as he stole another kiss from you.

“Oh trust me babe, tonight I got a taste of it tonight and I’m staying in your good graces if it’s the last thing I do!”

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - A Survivor's Story - Forward But Never Forget/XOXO

Sevika spittin' facts...

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"I hear you thinking," Sevika warns, without opening her eyes.

"Thinking?"

"About how to get Jinx away from him."

Despite reflex, Vi doesn't ball her hands into fists. She's getting better at concealment. Not a pro like Sevika. Not a savant like Silco. But she's learning. These past five months, she's learnt enough to last a lifetime. Yet she has so much left to know.

"He's not a monster," Vi says. "I thought he was. Now I understand he's just a fucked-up asshole. But that doesn't mean he's not dangerous."

"He's got his reasons."

"I'm tired of you defending him, Sevika."

"I'm defending—"

"—Zaun?" Vi's jaw grates. "Yeah. That's your big religion. The cause you've given everything to. And he's the messiah. You worship him. The rest of us have to believe too, or be cast out." Her eyes seize Sevika's, daring her to contradict. "It's easy to believe in him, too. I'd like to say otherwise. But I've seen him work in real-time. He's got a mojo. A pull, and he pulls who he wants. But that's not faith, Sevika. That's smokescreen to hide the rot inside. And someone like that, they learn all sorts of strategies to hide it. All that smooth talk, all that drive and charisma—they aren't Silco. They're the bracing that hides the sickness." 

"Look—"

"I have looked," Vi snaps, then takes a stabilizing breath. "I get it, okay? If he hadn't fought for Zaun, we'd still be under Piltover. If he hadn't done awful things, the Fissurefolk would be suffering worse. I understand that. He—Jinx—changed the city in ways no one else could've done. You can't scare monsters unless you're the scarier monster." She shakes her head. "Maybe he's the leader the Undercity—Zaun—needs right now. But what about ten years down the line? Twenty? What kind of shape will our home be if it's just a game of whack-a-villain every minute of every day? How do we take care of each other, if we're at each other's throats? How will Jinx take care of herself as she gets older? She doesn't need more monsters in her life, Sevika. She's got enough. She needs to feel safe. To know that her own city won't chew her up and spit her out if she slips up. To know her own home is behind her and not just a snakepit."

Sevika's features hold a deliberate smoothness. She says nothing.

"What people do isn't always who they are," Vi goes on. "Vander always told me that. I think it's true. For you. For a lot of folks who fought for Silco's cause. It's not true for Silco. Living means changing. Someone who can't change isn't really alive. Silco isn't." She swallows. "Not since Vander drowned him." 

Sevika takes a swallow of her beer. When she's finished, there's a half-smile on her face. Too old a smile, too knowing.

"You're right," she says. "He isn't alive."

Vi stares.

House odds were that Sevika would argue. That she'd shrug off Vi's outburst. Not that she'd pay it off with plainspoken fact.

"He's not alive," she repeats, "because he's forgotten how to be."

"Forgotten?"

"He's not you, Vi." Sevika's tone holds a weird stoicism. "If he was, he'd have had a different story. Not everyone's so lucky."

"Lucky?" Resentment creeps under Vi's skin. "I grew up in the Lanes. Same as you and Silco. I lost my family. My sister was stolen. I spent six years in Stillwater."

"A hard-knock life."

"What's that mean?"

Sevika shrugs. No sarcasm. Just blunt fact. "People in the Lanes—hell, people all over—go through all kinds of shit. They survive wars and famines. They get sold to slavers. They wake up one morning and a crazy Mage burns their village down. Or Noxus rolls in and salts all their fields. It's disaster after disaster. A life of hardship. Some learn early on how to cope. How to deal with pain. Others... it's like they just stop. Stop in time. Stop living completely." Her eyes go heavy-lidded. "Nobody has a perfect childhood. But some kids learn how to be happy, or at least float on when things aren't happy. A lot of it's down to nature. The rest? That's how you grow up. Who teaches you to be strong, and smart, and resilient. For you, it was Vander and your folks. Whoever gave you hope and kept you sane. For me..."

Belatedly, Vi understands.

"It was your sister."

Sevika doesn't flinch. Withdrawing a cigarillo from her pocket, she lights up perfunctorily. Brightleaf drifts in Vi's airspace.

"Don't recall mentioning Nandi to you," Sevika says.

"Silco did." Vi's eyelids droop. She feels tired all of a sudden. Torpid with the humidity; the slanting sunrays. With the surreal passage of time and the inexorable weight of history. "So did Vander, when I was a kid. She was the Priestess at Janna's Temple. Mom liked her." She looks away. "Mom was a believer in the old gods. Said they were a part of us, same as blood. She'd always visit the Temple for the Priestess' prayers. She'd stay for her stories. I remember those stories. I didn't understand 'em much, but I liked listening to her voice. I just never connected..."

That you two were family.

That you lost someone, same as me.

Vi's eyes are dry. But she feels the emotion lodged inside: half-processed.

"I didn't connect the dots," she repeats. "I'm sorry."

A plume of smoke rises pensively from Sevika's lips.

"She was a good woman," she says at length "Better one than me. I've made a career out of breaking bones. Nandi made a calling out of binding them back together.  But it was just a different kind of faith, y'know? She had faith in the divine. I had faith in me and mine. So I took care of her. She took care of me. We were family."

"Like me and Powder."

Sevika says nothing. She tips her chin back, staring at the sun-spangled sky.

"After she passed," Vi says, more tentatively, "you took up with Silco?"

The orientation of Sevika's body shifts.  "Don't recall mentioning that either."

"I—I saw you two."

"Saw us?" 

"Last night." Vi’s tongue burns as the confession slips past. " At the penthouse."

The cigarillo smolders in Sevika's prosthetic fingers: spark and flint. Smoke drifts over her face. Her hair's tied in a high tail today. There's nothing to conceal her expression. Not that there's an expression to conceal. Her eyes, meeting Vi's, reflect nothing in the metalhazy glints.

She is a monolith, and monoliths don't flinch.

Neither does Vi. This isn't a place for shame. They've known each other too long and too bitterly for that.

"I know," Vi mutters. "I know it wasn't my business."

"Then why make it your business?"

"Because—" It's an effort to match Sevika's stare "Because you and him... it's like you're stuck. Stuck on him. Stuck to him. He's bad news, Sevika. Not just for you, but everyone." She takes a shuddery breath, trying to keep the kneejerk anger out. "Whatever you're getting out of it, you can get better elsewhere."

"You offering, Vi?"

The near-flinch becomes a flush. "That's not what I—"

Except Sevika's not challenging her. Her demeanor's the same as when she and Vi used to spar: calm, level, blunt.

The bond between them doesn't go deep. Can't—given their convoluted history. Yet territorial as Sevika is, she takes care of her turf. Looks out for her own. Since Vi's return to the Lanes, she's treated her... not as an ally, but as a fellow Trencher.

They've both known hardship and come out stronger. They both understand that when disaster hits, it can make enemies out of friends—and friends out of enemies. 

Vi and Sevika are neither. They inhabit a shadowy zone in between. But that zone has its own language, and it's a clean one. No deadweight. No dredged-up debts.

Just the give-and-take of hard-hitting truth.

"It's funny," Sevika says. "The way folks throw that word around. Better. They're always thinking of what-ifs. What could be, instead of what is. Me, I like the facts. What's real, not what may come to pass."

"What's real is he's using you," Vi snaps. "Same as he uses everybody. He doesn't love you, Sevika."

"Love." Sevika's lip curls up at one corner. "What’s love got to do with it, little girl?"

"I—what?"

"You say Zaun's my big religion? Well, let me tell you. Love's yours. And it's got you—you, Jinx, Silco—so twisted up in knots, you're a fucking mess."

"I'm not a—"

"A fucking mess," Sevika repeats, and the tone brooks no argument. "All of you. That's the problem. You've got no perspective. No sense of self. No clue what's what. Everything's love, and you tote that word around like junkies with a fix. As if it's the answer to everything. The cure-all. Well, let me break it to you: it's not. Not even close."

"But—" Vi is stunned. "Then what's it for? What's the point?"

"There is no point," Sevika snaps. "Love's not a solution. It's not even a problem. It's just an emotion. And it's not the only one. There's rage. There's grief. There's hate. And they're just as real. Just another part of living." Her jaw hardens. "I loved my sister, Vi. Loved her enough that I'd strangle anybody who'd put a hand on her. Not because she was the best woman in the world—and she was—but because she was the best part of me. She was my family, same way Jinx is yours. When I lost her, I went to war. Didn't care if it was Enforcers, or Topside, or the whole goddamn world. I was ready to tear the planet down. Because I'd already been torn apart. I didn't have anything left."

"Sevika," Vi says, but doesn't finish.

She's been where Sevika has. She understands.

"I was broken," Sevika goes on. "I thought, without love, I'd stay broken. I was wrong. There's a whole lot more to life than that. And Silco..."

Her cadence doesn't waver. But there's a different undercurrent. Something raw, and blisteringly real.

"We had a thing, once," she says. "A shortlived thing. But that's the least of our history, Vi. It's not why I follow him. And it's not why I was with him last night."

"Why, then?" Vi's throat is tight. "Why stay with him?"

"Because… when I was broken, he knew what to do with the brokenness. He didn't ask me to be someone else. Didn't try to put me back together. He took me as I was. Because he understood that grief doesn't just end. It can't. There's no escaping it. But you can't let it end you, either. People have it worse; they have less. Me? I had more. When I had Nandi, I had everything. When I lost her, I lost it all. And what's left was an empty space, and filling it with something. Something that'd last the distance." She lets off a breath. A single strand of smoke uncurls. "Silco gave me that. He put his life in my hands. He laid his cause at my feet. He had faith in me. And that faith meant something."

"A way to go on," Vi says.

"That's the best anyone can ask for." Sevika smiles, and her hard face fills with soft lines. "Love's a fine thing, Vi. But it can't protect your family. It can't keep them safe. You gotta fight for that. And when you've fought as long as I have—taken more lives than you've seen years—it's not about the love. It's about what's left. About doing your part to keep it standing."

"Even if it means dying?"

Sevika doesn't miss a beat. "It's never about dying, Vi. It's about the life you choose before that."

"Silco can't give you a life."

"I know." Sevika's smile dwindles. The softness and hardness don't. "But he's given me everything else. The rest? I'll make do. My sister taught me how."

Vi says nothing. She's run out of arguments. Run, too, out of anger.

They sit in silence, watching the afternoon unfold.

[lush-escape]

INDIGO

Part 5

Southern!Jason Todd

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 ||

Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 ||

Part 11 || Part 12 || Epilogue ||

You fold your arms and rest your chin on top of them. "Yeah, she was good like that." Your response is quiet, looking down at the worn tile of the kitchen floor.

You tilt your head so your cheek was on top of your folded arms.

"Can't believe you got arrested." You try to imagine Jason handcuffed and thrown in the small town jail, it's a hard picture to conjure up.

Jason sighs, a mix of shame and humor on his face at the memory.

"Yeah, I'm just lucky I was young and all the arrests were for minor offenses. Never had to go to prison or nothin' like that."

He looks at you and tries to lighten the mood with a smirk. "Although, I gotta say, I looked pretty good in handcuffs."

"Shut up, you're stupid." You respond with a smile. A small huff of amusement leaves my nose.

And suddenly you're both fourteen again, trying to do your homework at the kitchen table, hurling insults back and forth at one another.

The nostalgia sits heavy in your stomach, makes you smile. Soft but sad.

"I bet you looked real stupid gettin' arrested." You quip back.

Jason laughs, the sound booming in the kitchen. It's a sound you haven't heard in years, and it's music to your ears.

"Oh, I did. I mean, I was a complete mess. Yellin', spittin', tryin' to fight anyone who came within ten feet of me."

He shakes his head, a small amused smirk on his face. "I was a god damn menace, darlin'. No denying that."

Jason's recount of the memory is funny, and it helps lighten the heavy mood a bit. But there's still a hint of melancholy in your chest, a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia.

You try to shake it away, but it sticks to you like molasses. You shift on the floor and look at Jason.

"How'd you end up at the Wayne Ranch? Last I'd heard, you were all about sticking it to the man." You ask curiously. Jason chuckles again, amused by your question.

"That I was, darlin'. I hated pretty much anything that was deemed establishment. Didn't hold any respect for authority or those with power." He rubs the back of his neck, a small smirk on his face.

"But... Mr. Wayne gave me a chance. An opportunity. He saw something in me, when I was at my worst. Gave me a job, and..." He pauses, his expression growing more serious.

"And a purpose."

There's a pause as Jason collects his thoughts. "Mr. Wayne isn't like other rich folks lookin' to make a quick buck. He actually cares about making a difference. He's... a decent man."

Jason meets your gaze again, this time with a vulnerability you wouldn't have expected years ago.

"He saved me, darlin'. In more ways than one."

The emotion in Jason's voice is palpable, his vulnerability and sincerity are plain on his face. There's something about the way he speaks about Bruce Wayne that strikes a chord. It's as if Bruce isn't just a boss or an employer, but a mentor and a friend.

You reach out and gently rest your hand on his arm, a subtle gesture of comfort.

"I'm glad you found him," You tell him soft and sincere, like you're kids at a sleep over keeping secrets.

Jason's gaze stays locked on yours, and he feels his heart thrum as your hand rests on his arm. Your touch is warm and gentle, mire than what he's grown used to over the years. He's not used to anyone touching him like this and it feels both foreign and familiar.

"I am too," he says, his voice quiet.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should say what he wants to say next. But then he takes a deep breath and dives in.

"I missed you." The words hang in the air between you two. Jason's expression is guarded, like he's expecting you to laugh or dismiss him.

But you don't. You would never.

You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the honesty in his words. For a moment, he's not the cocky, confident Jason that you remember. He's raw and real, and it makes your heart ache.

"I missed you, too." You whisper.

His gaze never leaves yours, and he feels like he could drown in your eyes.

"Why... why didn't you ever call?" His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

"I just..." You sigh, looking away with a small frown. "I got so caught up in school. I wanted to call, I did. I was just swamped all the time." You answer. It feels like a shitty answer even if it is the truth.

"I asked my mom about you whenever I talked to her." You try to offer.

Jason's expression softens a little at your explanation, and he can see the guilt etched across your face.

"I know you were busy," he responds, his voice still quiet but understanding. "I get it. Life gets in the way, sometimes."

He lets out a soft chuckle. "Your mama was always quick to remind me how well you were doing in school. She was proud as hell of you, you know. She loved talkin' 'bout ya."

A small smile graces your lips at the mention of your mom. It's easy to remember her words, her encouragement, her support. How she had believed in you, even when you doubted yourself.

"She always had a way of making me believe I could do anything," the words come out soft but thick with emotion, it's obvious you're trying not to cry.

There's a beat of silence. "She was a tough lady," Jason agrees with a small smirk on his face. "But she was also the sweetest."

"I still miss her, you know."

You can hear the grief in his voice, and you feel a sharp sadness knowing that she's gone.

"So do I." You respond, my voice shaky. "Everyday."

_____

taglist: @lettucel0ver

[trashmouth-richie]

hi, ziggy! ahhh i missed hih ❤️ could you pretty please do something for jealous!eddie where maybe somebody flirts with tooty because she got that milf glow after she had the babies lmao ily ❤️

anon💕💕 thank you for the req! this took a little spin and has an open ending, but!!! the twins are in this and some other familiar faces ❤️ might get a part 2? who knows!

a night out without the kids. almost an unheard of event. but tonight corroded coffin were performing their annual concert the night before halloween.

sissy & oz toted their overnight bags up the paved sidewalk to grandma and grandpa’s house— the same house you had once called home when the wheeler’s took you in as a teen.

reaching the front door eddie squats to eye level with the twin three year olds. “okay you two,” he says in his fatherly tone, “last time you stayed the night grandpa said you terrorized the cat.”

“i no do it daddy,” sissy speaks her little voice high pitched and tattling, “ows chaseded hims.”

a frown spreads on her brothers face his brown eyes pleading, “i did not! sissy made tinky swim in the potty!”

eddie bites his lip to hide a laugh and you take a deep breath, “that’s another thing, the cat’s name is bruce, not stinky.”

“but mama,” sissy complains, head held high in a defiant pose— one eddie recognizes as a mini version of his wife, “boose 's hard to say.”

eddie ruffles her hair and stands up, talking out of the side of his mouth, “always arguing like someone else i know,”

his large hand slides down the curve of your ass pinching the leather fabric snug on your skin, giving it a tight little squeeze.

“eddie!” you scold, swatting his hand away, “not in front of the babies.”

he grabs your waist and pulls you back into him before you can rap your knuckles on the front door. his mouth is hot in your ear, “sorry mama,” he purrs, dancing his tongue on the shell of your ear, “you just look so fucking hot tonight.”

sissy and oz are both slapping the door with both palms as it swings inward. “who’s makin’ all that racket?!”

“gwampa! it’s us!”

“issy and ows!”

wayne smiles as big as he always did when his grandbabies visited, “are you sure y’all ain’t no robbers are ya?”

“gwampa’s silly, daddy!” oz squeaks, squeezing wayne tight around his leg.

eddie grins and chuckles, “aww nah buddy that word is ‘senile’”

you smack eddie in the chest and usher the kids inside to play with their cousin, alex. “thanks for watching them tonight, we really appreciate it,” you say to wayne reaching through the threshold and giving him a hug.

“ah, ain’t no problem,” wayne says flipping eddie the bird behind your back, “karen and i love these little turds.”

“u too oh two be good for grandpa and grandma okay? eddie hollers, “be nice to the cat, sissy… i’m talkin’ to you.”

her little nose wrinkles into a pout and her brows furrow together.

“swear to christ himself, that kid is the spittin’ image of you, tooty.”

“god help me.” eddie pouts, “i’m gonna go gray before i’m forty.”

—

you kiss the kids goodbye and wave from the windows of your jeep before heading to the hideout. eddie looked particularly good tonight, leather pants, a cut off shirt, he even let you smear some eyeliner on his eyelids before tonight’s gig.

“nervous?” you ask, carrying some cords from eddie’s old van that now belonged to big d.

gareth walks past you with an amp, “not really, the hideouts like home away from home, makes me feel 18 again.”

you smile and ruffle his still thick curls, “will coming tonight?”

a sad look replaces his smile, “haven’t talked to him in a week… last i heard from jonathan he was staying with joyce and hopper.”

“he’ll come around man,” eddie says coming through the back door, “he loves you.”

“yeah, i hope.”

—

the boys— men now— rocked a killer show, fans still screaming for the band even though half of them were married and the lead singer had two kids.

you were front in center, in your designated spot that you always stood after the first show where eddie sang ‘lady evil’ just for you.

now you were sporting a new homemade shirt, ‘sitter’ crossed out with ‘mama’ his old leather jacket on your shoulders.

a hand sits on your lower back you giggle, “jeez nance, how drunk are you?”

only it wasn’t nancy, but a random guy. burly and tall, a thick beard on his face matching the short hair on his head, balancing a cowboy. you didn’t recognize him from anywhere and you pull back with a shocked face,

he smiles and you can smell liquor on his breath as he leans in real close, “been watchin’ you all night little darlin’ looks like you need a drink.”

you scowl and turn away from him, looking for jonathan and nancy but they’re nowhere to be found.

“hey,” he blunders stumbling towards you, “you like cowboys?”

you don’t want to give him the time of day or even the satisfaction of a tasteful retort so you do your best to ignore him, looking at eddie as he turns to thrash the guitar riff with jeff.

eddie turns back around to continue the song and shoots you a wink, the same time a big sloppy pair of lips press on your cheek, hard and unwelcoming.

you didn’t see eddie’s eyes turn to black or the way he dropped the neck of his guitar hands balled into fist, you were seeing your own scarlet red, turning and slapping the face of the drunk asphalt “cowboy”.

eddie cuts the band and grabs the mic, “hey fucker!” he pushes his lips in a smooch and whistles like a dog, “here boy, up here.. yeah you— the guy who just got slapped.”

cowboy slap face looked up to the band, “what?”

“you must be new to town, huh? a drifter maybe?”

he lifts his head and spits on the ground, “what’s it to you?”

eddie laughs a little crazy-like, “… that,” he says pointing to you, “is my wife… and i’m sure you don’t know this or maybe your marbles are a little rattled up there with the cobwebs, but..” he jumps from the stage in a dramatic flare, wet hair bouncing behind him, skin slicked in sweat.

he tossing the mic behind him, standing tall and flicking the brim of the guys hat, toe to toe. “i’m not afraid to kill a man.”

“you’re bluffin’,”

“wouldn’t be my first, and for her,” he says moving you behind him, “won’t be my last,”

….

[raging-bisexual76]

i’m begging you to speak more abt bachira & isagi w a loser!reader

!! Nonnie I'm so glad you asked fr it's gonna be kinda long just tell me to stfu if u need

also they're a lot meaner with reader than their yan counterparts

TW/CW; dubcon/noncon (to be safe), bullying, mention of spitting (sexual style fingerguns), gentle mention of impact play, hard mention of non-consensual picture sharing and can be implied that the pictures were taken without consent

So it's like a college au kinda but also like not? And I'm gonna do it fem reader coded I'm sorry I was trying to stay gn but then my brain was like mmm no

Now obviously the boys are still on the soccer team still and are more than likely popular because they've gotten the team to it's current standing.

Then we have our sweet lil loser reader :) who could do no wrong except standing up against the bullies. She's probably in an unpopular group/club but I'm not entirely sure what one

But reader's all red in the face and jabbing their finger into the boys chest, asking when will it be enough for them and that they're sick of seeing and hearing it. That they should be ashamed, thinking they're big shots when they do stuff like this. And while she's popping off, the boys are just like "holy shit who the fuck does she think she is??"

So as I said, they start moving their bullying efforts to the reader after that. It starts small with them stealing her stuff, tugging her hair, turning her friends against her and spreading rumors, etc.

But the first time they trip her?? And get a lil glimpse of her panties??? Fuuck. Especially as she sits up with tears in her eyes, giving them the nastiest look she can muster as she tells them to fuck off and just leave her alone.

After that though, it gets worse for our dear reader. Instead of just tugging little stands, they grab fist fulls of her hair and pull, just to hear what noises she makes. They'll dump water out a window, or push her into the fountain just to see what's underneath her shirt and flip up her skirt to see her panties. The boys will go out of their way to kick a soccer ball so it hits her, just to see her cry. Pinching her and leaving little bruises on her sides and thighs, groping at her through her clothes as they press themselves against her. They'll start pulling her off to secluded places by her hair or arm to make her give them a blowjob, or get a quick fuck in.

I can see any pictures they have of her in compromising positions probably being shared with the rest of the soccer team. She can't prove it, but the stares from the team say more than enough.

One of the teams favorites is where the reader is on their knees, looking up at the camera with tears and cum running down her face, both Yoichi and Meguru's dicks pressing against her face. Another is a video of reader laying on her back, covering her face with her forearm in embarrassment. She's barely clothed, boobs almost spilling out of her bra with each of Bachira's thrusts. Isagi has her right hand in his as he wraps them around his cock, and with his other he pulls her tits out to abuse her nipples (pinchin, spittin, biting, slappin n suckin my god he'd do everything). And after she thinks they're done, she goes to sit up to gather her things only to be flipped over and pushed back down. Yoichi has the camera now as he steps behind her, running his tip up and down her leaking entrance. Bachira just clicks his tongue with a pout, "You didn't think we were done yet, right, [name]-chan? Yoichi-kun hasn't gotten his turn yet, and I'm still a little dirty. So, clean it." He slides in front of her, lifting her head up by the hair as he presses himself against her mouth.

(m tryin to not think abt if they ((the team)) have seen reader and the boys go at it in the locker room and the showers (((they have))) )

.

.

Idk this isn't all the ideas and I'm all over the place with this,, but it's in the making yk? I feel like yan them doesn't want any harm to come to darling, but bully them? They want to see you bruised, broken and hurting, they want to see the look hatred in your eyes and for you to be uncomfortable around them

[mjonthetrack]

real

Samara waited until she heard the car door shut behind Zion. Then she turned back into the room, facing all three of them. Her hoodie was still pulled low, but now that Zion wasn’t looking, she let her hand lift up to dab at her lip real quick — just to make sure it wasn’t bleeding again.

“I can take a hit,” she said quietly, like it was just fact. Her eyes met Jey’s first. “I’m not a bitch.”

The silence that dropped? Heavy as hell.

Jimmy blinked, but didn’t say a word.

Sefa shifted, arms crossed, jaw flexed.

But Jey? Jey looked like somebody just dug nails straight into his spine.

Samara kept talking, voice steady even though her fingers were trembling. “He ran up on me this morning… talkin’ wild. Said I had cops looking for him 'cause they snatched me up when he ran like a lil punk. Started spittin’ all this mess about how I ‘tried him’ and embarrassed him on the block.”

She shook her head slowly, lips twitching bitter. “I told him to step from ‘round my store. I turned to walk off. Thought that was that.”

Then she paused. Just for a second. Then added, even quieter: “He laughed. Turned back. Came up and smacked me from behind.”

Her thumb brushed over her split lip.

“His ring caught me right here,” she muttered. “Woulda swung back, but the cops been heavy all week. I ain’t tryna catch another charge.”

For a full ten seconds, nobody said a thing.

Then Jey stepped forward once — just one step, but it felt like the floor shook beneath him. His face was stone. His fists? Already balled, like his hands had made the decision for him.

“...He put hands on you again?”

Samara met his eyes, but she didn’t flinch. “He caught me slippin’. That’s it. Ain’t gon’ happen again.”

Jey’s voice came out low, thick, and murderous. “Tell me where he at.”

Jimmy spoke up quick, trying to cut through the heat before it exploded, “Yo—yo, chill. We gotta think. She said cops all around the block, remember? They watching.”

“I don’t give a fuck if the National Guard outside,” Jey snapped. “He touched her face. Made my son watch her lie about it to keep him from worrying. He think this some game?”

Sefa looked between the two, sighing hard, tension in his shoulders. “Bro… I ain’t sayin’ don’t handle it. But you gotta move smart. If they already got eyes on the shop and the area? You go out wildin’? That’s it for you.”

Samara rolled her eyes, dragging her hoodie tighter around herself. “Don’t do me no favors. I ain’t some damsel, Jey.”

He stared at her, voice colder than the air outside.

“You his damsel now?”

That one landed. Dead in the center of her chest.

She didn’t respond. Just turned and walked toward the door.

“Watch yourself,” Jey said, one last time. Not a request. Not a warning. A damn declaration.

“I always do,” she muttered, and stepped out.

Chapter Eighteen: “Don’t Play With Mine”

Sun was beaming heavy over the park. The usual vibe: cousins on the court, music bumpin’ low from a Bluetooth speaker, and the smell of barbecue somewhere nearby. Jimmy was posted with Sefa on the bleachers, shooting the shit. Jey was chillin' off to the side, eyes shaded behind his Locs, watching Zion shoot hoops earlier with Zilla and Jacob. It had been a decent day for once.

Until it wasn’t.

That black lowrider crept up on 'em like a storm.

Slow.

Intentional.

Chrome gleaming, engine grumbling with that cocky-ass purr like it owned the whole street.

Jey’s jaw clenched.

His body shifted, barely—but enough for Jimmy to notice.

“Ayo,” Jey said low, straightening up. “That look like that lowrider Zion was talkin’ about?”

Sefa squinted. “Shit... yeah. Might be.”

That’s when the car came to a dead stop at the curb. Door popped open—and Zion jumped out fast, looking all kinds of rattled.

“Z!” Jey called, already moving.

Zion saw him and damn near ran toward the group, wide-eyed. “Why he come get me?! Ma said she was pickin’ me up from school!” he yelled, breath hitching, voice crackin' like he was on the edge of tears. “I ain’t know who he was at first—he just pulled up and said she sent him!”

The car door slammed again. Montez leaned out, sunglasses on, that same smug-ass smirk on his face.

“I thought I’d do the favor,” he said, voice smooth and loud, like he wanted every man there to hear it. “Business with his pops. Figured I’d help out, see what type of daddy was out here in the streets.”

Jey’s entire soul went ice cold.

Sefa took one step forward. “Yo—nah, this ain’t it—”

Montez kept going, cocky as hell. “Better stay out our area, lil island boys. Next time I pick him up? Won’t be nothin’ sweet.” He grinned, tongue flicking against his tooth. “Oh, and don’t trip. She ain’t know I got him. Keep it that way.”

He revved the engine once. Loud.

“Fifth Street runnin' things now,” he finished, then peeled off laughing—tires screeching, bass booming, taillights flashing like this was some kind of twisted flex.

Jey didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

Zion was standing there, fists balled at his sides, confused, scared, embarrassed.

Jimmy’s voice was tight. “Jey…”

Jey’s eyes stayed locked in the direction that car just dipped.

“He touched my son,” Jey said, voice flat.

“He ain’t touch him,” Sefa jumped in quick. “He just picked him up—”

“He touched my son,” Jey repeated, louder this time. “Snatched him up from school. Lied to his mama. Had him ridin' round in some hood shit without no warning. And you tellin’ me that ain’t touchin’ him?”

Sefa went quiet.

Jey turned and walked straight to his car, jaw locked so tight the vein in his neck was damn near bulging. But before he got in, he looked at Zion—softening just for a second.

“You good, Z?”

Zion nodded slowly. “I ain’t say nothin’ to him.”

“I know. You straight now.”

Then he looked at his brothers again.

“Call Sam,” Jey said. “Tell her he picked Zion up. And tell her if she see him again? Tell her don’t handle it.”

He got in his car, slamming the door so hard the mirror shook.

Jimmy exhaled. “Where he goin’?”

Sefa rubbed his temple. “Where you think?”

Chapter Nineteen: “Lines Were Crossed”

Zion was still trying to breathe normal again when they heard screeching tires and the roar of a familiar engine.

Samara’s SUV.

She damn near swung it into park before the whole thing even stopped rolling. Her door flung open, and she jumped out with her keys still swinging in the ignition, eyes scanning like a mama lion that just sniffed blood in the air.

“ZION!”

He barely had time to look before she ran full-speed across the park and snatched him into her arms. Her voice cracked as she held his head to her chest, rocking them both like it was just them in the world.

“What the fuck?!” she screamed, not even trying to hold it in. Her eyes shot wild toward the rest of the crew—Sefa, Jimmy, Jacob, Zilla—all frozen.

She looked right past them, arms still wrapped around Zion, eyes darting like radar locked on a signal.

“WHERE HE AT?!” she screamed again, louder, sharper.

Zion was crying now, trembling against her hoodie. “Mama I ain’t know—I swear he said you sent him—”

“I didn’t,” she said, kissing his temple over and over, hands shaking. “I didn’t, baby. I didn’t know. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Z.”

She looked up again. “WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!”

Nobody had to ask who “he” was.

Just then, Jey came storming back from down the block, steps heavy, eyes dark. He ain’t find Montez, but every vein in his neck said he was ready to go through hell to track him down.

The second he saw Samara on her knees holding Zion—saw the split lip, saw the bruise still raw and now tears streaking her cheek—his whole body pulled tight like a bowstring.

She looked up at him as he approached.

“Why didn’t y’all call me?!” she snapped, voice hoarse from panic. “He picked our son up from school! He got him in his fuckin’ car—he brought him here like it’s a game, like this some kinda message to you?!”

Jey didn’t answer right away.

He just stared at her, then Zion, then back toward the street like he was waiting on Montez to reverse back into the war zone.

“I ain’t know,” he finally said, quiet but deadly. “But I know now.”

Jimmy stepped up, trying to keep things from exploding even worse. “Jey—we all just found out. Kid said he thought she sent him—none of us knew it was Montez till he popped out runnin’ his mouth.”

Sefa nodded, still guilt heavy on his face. “He pulled off before anyone could even reach him. But it ain’t gonna happen again.”

Samara slowly stood up, one arm still tight around Zion.

“You’re fuckin’ right it’s not,” she hissed. “He had the nerve to pick him up? Without my word, without nobody’s say-so? What if he drove him to the fucking set or somewhere hot?! What if cops stopped them?! What if he—”

Her voice cracked again and she stopped, pressing her lips together to keep from breaking all the way down.

Jey stepped forward finally, closer, eyes locked on hers.

“I’m takin’ care of it,” he said.

She laughed bitter. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me that. Don’t.”

“Sam—”

“No. Don’t. You should’ve handled this the second he came around! Now he out here makin’ threats, snatchin’ our son up like it’s a warning shot?”

Zion’s voice cracked behind her. “Mama, I was scared…”

She turned instantly, arms wrapping around him again. “I know, baby. You safe now. You safe.”

Then she looked over her shoulder at Jey.

“This your problem. This some shit from your side of the street. So fix it. Or next time he show his face? I’m not swinging. I’m shooting.”

She ain’t wait for a response.

She guided Zion gently into the SUV, wiping his cheeks, climbing into the driver’s seat.

And before she slammed her door shut, she gave Jey one last look—tired, furious, eyes red from crying, voice low:

“And don’t bother calling me. I blocked you for a reason.”

Then she peeled off.

Gone.

The park was quiet again.

But it wasn’t peaceful.

It felt like the calm before an even bigger storm.

Jey stared after the SUV for a long moment, jaw ticking.

Then Jimmy muttered beside him, “You gonna do it?”

Jey didn’t look away.

“...He threatened my son. Put hands on his mama. He made it personal.”

He cracked his neck once.

“So yeah.”

He started walking again.

“I’m doin’ it.”

Chapter Twenty: “Wrong Territory”

It was barely noon but the sun was already mean, beating down on the cracked pavement like it was mad too. Jey was leaned against Jimmy’s Impala, jaw tight, hoodie on even though the heat ain’t care. His fists were balled in the pocket like they was tryna hold back the storm brewing in him.

Sefa paced a few feet away, still running the morning over in his head. Zion’s face. Samara’s split lip. That lowrider. That smug-ass grin.

Nah. Nah, today wasn’t the day to test none of them.

Outta nowhere, a young runner came jogging up the block—skinny, about sixteen, with a sling bag across his chest and nerves all in his eyes.

“Yo! Unc!” he called out to Jimmy, breathless. “Aye—y’all was tryna figure out who been droppin’ work over by the nail spot, right?”

All three of them locked in immediately.

The kid nodded, swallowing. “We figured it out.”

Jey pushed off the car, eyes narrowing.

“Talk.”

The runner shifted, clearly uneasy. “It’s that crew from Fifth Street. The little side cell. They been postin’ up not too far off the back alley by the salon. Quiet, but steady—real lowkey, pushin’ dimes and twenty bags like they flyers.”

Jimmy’s face darkened. “You sure?”

“Caught one of ‘em servin’ behind the liquor store by the beauty supply. Said they movin’ through ‘Montez’s blessing.’” The runner scratched his neck. “Called it ‘layin’ foundation for a new corner.’”

Sefa’s whole body tensed. “New corner?”

Jey’s face twisted, low voice sharp like a knife: “That bitch think he settin’ up shop on my land?”

“He playin’ chess like he ain’t gon get knocked off the board,” Jimmy muttered, shaking his head.

The runner added, “One of the dudes they got out there? Youngblood with a tat near his ear? He was the one picked Zion up. School cam got his face plain as day.”

That was all Jey needed.

The switch in him flipped.

No more talking. No more waiting. No more guessing.

He looked at Sefa and Jimmy, voice calm but cold:

“Aight. He wanna play? We gon' show him who run the game. Call Zilla. Jacob too. Tonight, we clearin’ house.”

Jimmy nodded slowly. “You sure you don’t wanna give Sam a heads up?”

Jey looked him dead in the eye. “This? Ain’t her weight to carry. This me.”

He took a breath, eyes low and dangerous. “He crossed a line. Touched what’s mine. Now it’s war.”

The runner swallowed and slowly backed off.

And the brothers?

They already moved in sync, silent as smoke, dangerous as fire.

'Cause if Montez thought Fifth Street could post up in Uso territory and threaten Zion like it was sweet?

He was about to learn the hard way—

Ain’t nothing sweet out here but the retribution.

Chapter Twenty-One: “Mama's Safehouse, Daddy's Warpath”

Samara’s POV

Samara kept it light, even though everything in her body was tight with nerves. Her lip still throbbed with every word, but she smiled through it—big hoops in, laid edges, like she wasn’t feelin’ like the world was spiraling underneath her heels.

“Z, you want strawberry or mango?” she called from the kitchen, cutting fruit with a sharp-ass knife like the mango was Montez’s damn face.

Zion looked up from the couch, curled up with his Switch. “Strawberry.”

“Gotchu.” Her voice was steady, gentle, even though her mind was screaming.

She blended the smoothie with extra care, added whipped cream like she always did for him, slid it over. “Feet up on the table and you cleanin’ my whole front window with your shirt,” she joked, tapping his knee.

He smiled just a little. “Sorry, ma.”

She kissed his forehead, lips brushing the curls that needed retwisting. Her heart ached.

He was just twelve. Just a kid.

A kid who had some grown-ass man grab him out of school and flex like it was a game. And now he was sitting here drinking smoothies while his uncles… and his daddy…

Samara sighed, walking back to the kitchen. She checked her phone. No messages. No calls. Still blocked. Like Jey deserved that luxury right now.

She looked out the window.

“Handle it, Josh. Handle it right.”

Jey’s POV

It was dark by the time they slid through, SUV gliding like a panther through Fifth Street’s side of town. No headlights, music low, windows halfway down.

Jey sat in the passenger seat, jaw clenched, eyes on the block.

Jimmy was driving. Zilla and Jacob were in the back, fully masked up. Sefa was trailing behind them in another car, ready with the rest of the hitters if shit got loud.

“That's him,” Jacob muttered, pointing.

Sure enough—corner store, side alley, just like the runner said. Two dudes. One of them with that tattoo near the ear.

“Yo,” Jey muttered. “Get closer.”

They pulled up slow. Smooth.

Jey hopped out first, hoodie over his head, but it ain’t take long for the dealers to clock what was up. One of 'em froze. The other tried to backstep.

“Where the fuck Montez at?” Jey said low, walking forward.

Tat-face tried to front. “Yo I don’t even know no—”

POP!

Zilla hit the side wall with a warning shot.

“Try again,” Jey said, voice ice cold.

They started stammering. One of them spilled instantly. “He been using the alley behind that boarded-up beauty school on Flint—stash house, couple guys, we just the front!”

“Cool,” Jey nodded.

Then?

CRACK! Jey pistol-whipped him hard enough to drop him.

Jacob and Jimmy moved in, clearing pockets, flipping product, stomping on every bag they found.

Jey leaned over the second guy. “You see that lil boy in that lowrider again? Say anything slick? You gon' meet God quicker than your mama ever prayed for.”

The dude was trembling.

“Tell Montez this shit ain’t chess. It’s war. And we play dirty.”

They left ‘em bleeding, but breathing—just enough to carry the message back.

Jey climbed back in the whip, face stone cold. Jimmy looked over at him, still breathing hard.

“This ain’t the end.”

“Nah,” Jey said, wiping blood off his hand with an old rag. “But it’s the beginning of me ending him.”

[goodnightoilcountry]

jo's carolina canes fic rec list !

fic rec masterlist: jo's nhl fic rec list !

like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!

ANDREI SVECHNIKOV

9PM in Vancouver by @ thewintersoldierdisaster summary: on a mini trip to vancouver to watch andrei play, you suffer the worst loss of your life. andrei is your rock throughout the ordeal word count: 7k

sunkissed pt1 + p2 + p3 by @ sydnikov summary: you’ve been in love with Andrei for as long as you can remember. when you first got hired to work in the social media department and met some of the members of the team, just one look at the hockey star’s brilliant smile and you were in deep. your heart truly broke though when he introduced his girlfriend after a game and you had to pretend you were happy for him. now you had to watch as they became happily engaged, knowing you'd never be the light in Andrei's life like he was for you. word count: 16.9k total

fleeting by @ sydnikov summary: every moment with Andrei is fleeting. word count: 17.5k

the one by @ holy-pucks summary: the reader is andrei's favorite girl, but she isn't his only. for awhile, the arrangement was comfortable. he'd show up whenever he was in town, they'd fuck, and then he'd leave. rinse and repeat. so how will andrei react when their routine comes to a screeching halt? word count: 8k

eye on you by @ behoright summary: andrei is oh so drunk, and he needs you to pick him up from the bar. word count: 4.5k

PYOTR KOTCHEKOV

all the pretty girls by @ unluckyhoneybee summary: where Pyotr never cared when girls preferred Andrei until it was you.

SEBASTIAN AHO

this is how it ends by @ silverstonesainz-archive summary: not every chapter ends in happily every after word count: 6.4k

i could love you with my eyes closed by @ matthewtkachuk summary: Sebastian doesn't like your boyfriend - he's forgetful, stands you up, and doesn't know a thing about you. when will you see that he's the right guy to figure you out? word count: 4k

finish line by @ silverstonesainz-archive summary: a resolution where all parties are happy. word count: 4.1k

the olympics are overrated by @ sydnikov summary: Sebastian Aho x reader where the reader is an olympic athlete and the canes are in off season but Seb is staying in raleigh this summer and not going back to finland and all he wants to do is spend time with the reader but she’s super busy with training so he gets super clingy. word count: 5.1k

SETH JARVIS

lover boy by @ sydnikov summary: hockey is a violent sport, one based on luck yet also talent, and most never escape unscathed. you learned that lesson too early, and haven't quite been the same ever since. then Seth Jarvis comes along, tearing down your hardened walls with ease, and, suddenly… You don't feel so alone anymore. word count: 9.7k

being bold by @ sydnikov summary: Seth has a crush on you. a bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances. word count: 7.4k

if they woke up, somebody better be dying by @ stormsplurge summary: inspired by the interview he just did for spittin chiclets where he talks about how he usually wont fall asleep until 3am word count: 0.7k

jacket by @ prettytoxicrevolver summary: jarvy sees you in the wags playoff jacket for the first time word count: 1.6k

our wedding by @ hockeyboistrash word count: 0.7k

traded by @ pennylanefics word count: 2k

TYSON JOST

i should've fought harder by @ butgilinsky summary: what happens when you both find out that your messy breakup was the biggest mistake of all? word count: 5.5k

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Observation Funny tags: One Piece Multi-Caracter and Miscellaneous tags

Due to character limits the funny tags post has had to be broken up into multiple parts

This section includes tags involving multiple characters that only made sense in context and miscellaneous tags that I thought were funny. Now, here's your warning. It's extremely long

Multi-character

“I know mihawk is like tumblr sexy man but shanks is daddy” “shanks hes the perfect amount of scummy mihawk is perfect though” “live action Shanks is hotter to me than anime shanks and live action mihawk is a beautiful human but I'm such a sucker for scruffy vs cursive.” “zeff lovers come ON we dont fuck with Marines who stand by while [Marineford spoilers for those who havent read the manga or watched the anime]” “zeff is wonderful but garp’s looks and accent absolutely kill me” “yes i'll fuck an old man(it's garp)(sorry zeff i rly like you but garp's actor's voice is just. well)” “taz. hands down mackenyu you are very pretty but taz’s sanji is pretty and charming and funny and hotheaded and has an accent and” “the live action completly flipped my taste like what you mean I find sanji attractive and more than zoro” “i want Zoro to pin me to the wall and Sanji to be on his knees at my feet two very good boys but i want dif things from them for Smash” “temperature wise it's probably Akainu aesthetically it's king” “I personally simp for Marco but let's face it King is fucking fineeee” “once upon a time I would have boted Ace but I've gotten older and maannnn King is so fine~!” “”cmon are really gonna let the cop beat the line cook?”I….I'd rather not say….🐱 funniest thing tho is that ive called all of these men ugly (lovingly in Law's case) except Wolfwood but that's not who I voted for the one that I voted for I once wrote like 7 tweets in a row calling him ugly too and unlike Law it wasn't lovingly. I meant that shit and I was spittin and I was right and I'm still right” “I mean ace is hot but like croc's demeanor and everything else is just too tempting for my daddy issues LOL” “as a noted marinefucker….. idk honestly. too hard to choose gruff guy smoker? girlfriend shaped tashigi? girlboss hina? mommy doll? gilfs garp and tsuru? handsome boy coby? who knows (we all know. my answer is smoker)” “smoker….ive given up on convincing the rest of you whatever. more hunk daddy for me valid that people are voting robin yamato and shanks zoro ehhhhh law is NOT valid that man has erectile dysfunction nami…. lesbians i will give this one to you also why does hina have so few votes… my girlfriend…..” “i need robin and smoker in ways that are concerning to feminism” “I’m sorry Law and Zoro gotta add to that wonderful smokersweep 👀✌️✨”

“listen buggy was sexy but one look at mihawk my ovaries exploded i suddenly had a fever my body was in a harlequin novel i think i whispered dear god anyway dracule mihawk destroy me sir” “catty gay mihawk imo live action zoro is TOO pretty he looks like an idol zoro should look kind of fucked up like a little TOO beefy weirdly proportioned crooked face SOMETHING anyway catty gay mihawk i love you” “as a noted marinefucker….. idk honestly. too hard to choose gruff guy smoker? girlfriend shaped tashigi? girlboss hina? mommy doll? gilfs garp and tsuru? handsome boy coby? who knows (we all know. my answer is smoker)” “smoker….ive given up on convincing the rest of you whatever. more hunk daddy for me valid that people are voting robin yamato and shanks zoro ehhhhh law is NOT valid that man has erectile dysfunction nami…. lesbians i will give this one to you also why does hina have so few votes… my girlfriend…..” “i need robin and smoker in ways that are concerning to feminism” “I know he had the bigger tits but I am sorry Zoro Robin just does it different also she washes her ass so take that how you will”

“robin because she has beauty and brains and weird woman swag <3 zoro is hot in a stinky homicidal buff gym rat way (affectionate)(my bi ass can't decide lol)” “people are gonna come after me…BUT i think zoro is only hot post timeskip….wano specifically was a gift to everyone but robin? she has been slaying since 1999” “Why would you do this to me specifically?…………..Robin Look I love her She's so smart and gorgeous And she bathes regularly Which is a thing that Zoro does not” “for once I have OPINIONS and yes zoro deserves the win muscly idiot with a heart of gold? oh hell yeah that being said… I do think aces freckles add something” “its honestly a toss up between croc and buggy but with one of them you’re not getting sand up your ass” “i almost voted Smoker but i saw Ace and knew what i had to do sorry Smoker babe but Ace isnt a cop and thats your one flaw </3” “yall really gonna make me pick between ace and zoro??? the inhumanity of it all” “ah… the gender™ i love how izou is a feminine man in contrast w kiku being transgender like yes these are diff concepts as u can see in these siblings yamatos hot as hell tho. need more big titty trans dudes in my life” “love shanks but yamato is just like me fr so im gonna give myself some confidence and vote yamato tboys gotta stick together” “kurehas pure unhinged old young woman energy vs tsuru MOMMY” “ How in the literal hell that is this site is Buggy beating out Rayleigh? And Roger to boot?! I mean, c'mon! It's Buggy!” “exploding everyone right now buggy should at be 0%. im disappointed like fuckin over ROGER? Tragic.”

“How am I supposed to choose when their types of hotness is so different? Shanks is so daddy and Kid is so unhinged maniac that lives next door? They give me different things!” “shanks destroy kid again (I don't hate kid I just think Shanks looked hot while doing what he did)” “GALETTE OVER PRALINE AND AMANDE???? YOU PEOPLE NEED HELP.” “Galette is gorgeous but Amande is my gal shout out to Brulee and Chiffon love them ooh praline's on their too! probably my second favourite after amande” “Black Maria sorry king this was a hard one. but consider: Giant Woman” “look see the thing is right im honour bound to vote drake because thats just who i am as a person yes im ashamed of it but it is the truth objectively though? easily king. maria and ulti have arguments as well here and honestly sasaki is cute but idk anything about him but drake. Drake my sweetie” “bennshanks hotter still……… sorry killer my hot wife” “BENNSHANKS SWEEP LMFAOOOOOOOO kidkiller ily but truly. bennshnanks. just look at em im glad the people on this site still know how to appreciate some good dilfs” “Rayleigh and Koby have special places in my heart… But for the love of all that is holy… What I'd do for SMOKER 🚬 would get me admitted to hospital repeatedly” “WHO submitted this. what the hell. mannnn mannn almost tempted to vote for my 2nd pick (killer) cause i cant decide between beck and smoker if not for the fact that i know killer prob has more votes than both of them beck is gonna be underrepresented here so i'll vote him also im going to RIOT if bepo is not last”

“Kiku obviously but Tashigi is so underrated (can you tell i like women with swords) Shakky would be hotter if she looked like the milf she is. iirc she's like 55 why doesn't her design reflect that? Boa Hancock's sisters are hotter than her imo. Boa Sandersonia my beloved 🥰🥰🥰the hottest woman in OP is Robin but i understand why she isn't in this poll. she'd win too easily” “as much as i would also like reiju to win i cant go against kiku” “dont know anyrhing abt one piece BUT yamato or king wildfire and the rest arent even CLOSE to touching them” “My heart says Shanks, but my dad-joke-brain says either Sabo or Ace” “if the big fight for the win ends up being yamato ace and crocodile irs gonna be The Battle of The Transmascs” “Ben’s got my vote on this one then smoker rayleigh. Marco but I can see the appeal in all” “WGHAT! WHY IS JINBE SO LOW!!!!! CRIMINAL!!!!!!! HES SO HOT!!!! sigh it was tempting between Jinbe and Rayleigh tho twas a difficult choice bc i do indeed wanna fuck that old man but! [donkey kong ☝️.png] BUT. i wanna fuck that fat fishman even more. get w the program ppl” “#KID LOSING TO BUGGY IS NOT SOMETHING IM WILLING TO TOLERATE” “Shanks is my glorious red haired Prince but King just blows away the competition in terms of being beautiful he’s also like 22 feet tall that’s fucking hot and does things to my gay brain” “this poll is very unfair i would bang ALL of them except kid cause i still dgaf about him everyone ELSE though”

“Cowards Give us modern big mom or may saint charlos win” “can you believe 'worst pic of zoro ive evr seen' 'anime woman w big booba' and 'blonde thing' are winning over the meiji eras hottest gilf” “Smoker. IS. DADDY. Koby is just adorable.” “choosing between smoker tashigi and hina is criminal” “I have 3 blorbos in this poll and now I have to choose which is hotter? Physically? It's a pity Aramaki wasn't on the poll, that would have made the choice easier. Smokestack, Volcano Man, or Borsi Baby. I wonder who I'll vote for…” “why is sakazuki higher than kuzan” “m so mad im s o mad every single one of these guys save like marco i guess is hotter to me than zoro imsorry theyre all pretty sexy ngl. but. Man” “that was such a hard and difficult decision my heart beats for Katakuri Lucci and Killer!! king is also delicious 🙈but in the end my heart was loyal to my pasta husbando Killer sorry katchan and lulu…✌️😔” “king and katakuri should tie. with zoro in second. let’s be real if u vote for marco ur actually insane” “this is unfair bc zoro is og hot but king is the pinacle of ''oh no he's hot!'' spongebob meme and rayleigh is old man hot” “'ll keep hoping Kid beats Shanks one day as he should”

“BENN "FINE FUCKING VINTAGE" BECKMAN. I will continue screaming this until people start agreeing with me in these damn polls. Though the young lady that is Dr. Kureha should be a solid second place.” “THIS ONE'S IMPOSSIBLE#LIKE I THOUGHT CORA VS BUGGY WAS HARD#BUT HERE I MIGHT AS WELL EAT MY OWN ORGANS” “liiiiisten I love him to bits but I firmly maintain that Cora is only handsome if you tilt your head sideways and squint he’s a giant horrible combat muppet bell mere is a beautiful dyke mom and that’s final I firmly believed they were friends tho” “I HAVE TO CHOOSE BETWEEN SMOOTHIE AND KIKU?????????????#SHIIIIIIIIT i am gods worst squirrel tho how can i CHOOSE fuuuuuuuuuck i'd let both of them stab me mannnn kinda want smoothie to juice me and serve the juice to stussy like she did w that giraffe sorry. i dont know why i said that. actually i do know. sorry nonetheless but kiku is literally my wife i sweaaaar i fell in love w her during wano………SHIT” “Kiku I adore you but Smoothie oh my god smoothie” “Guys please the joke is right there. I know Yamato is fine but please 🙏 Ace is made of fire I'm begging you” “objectively? Shanks who is the love of my life i would pick anyway? my meow meow? Sanji.” “who the FUCK are voting law and zoro's ugly asses” “In regards to doflamingo and crocodile Okay, hear me out. I think they're hot because I just have a feeling they have a bit of a misogyny streak, and I think I could peg it out of them. Don't worry. I have a plan which involves seastone cuffs. I'm also aware one's like 10 ft tall and the other's like 8'4 I still think I could take them. I also think someone needs to peg the fuckboy out of Shanks, but that's another story and a different issue. Haki is more complicated to deal with”

“The hottest you say? Akainu and Ace… yeah I'm voting them just cuz of this joke” “I was slightly disappointed akainu/ace wasn't submitted I mean clearly they had some interaction and Akainu even penetrated Ace on screen… but it's funny I'll see myself out for using that word 🙈” “WHO THE FUCK SENT IN AKAINU X ACE WHAT THE HEEEELLLLLL its so bad….oh my god theyre all so bad… jesus fuck… i thtought it couldnt get any worse than charlos and trebol….fuck….” “omg one piece polls im gonna say it: roger/figarland would be a genuinely interesting fic lol” “I’m gonna have to go with sanji because usually when I get weird about fictional characters it’s not in a sexual way like my Zoro obsession has nothing to do with me being attracted to him and everything to do with his intense devotion to his captain but sanji is different I saw sanji wear a dress once and now I want him carnally and I’m like mostly asexual so that’s saying a lot” “So evil for making me choose between Ace and Rayleigh btw 😭😭 (sorry Ace)” “zosan nation im rooting for yall divorced dads shanks n mihawk arent winning this one i fear so i gotta cast my vote for yall at least beat geto and gojo theyre just greyscaled zosan”

“how dare you pit giant trans wife against giant trans husband how very dare” “caesar 'babygirl' clown babyyyyy…is losing 😭y'all don't know anything corazon is in the lead tho… okay that's fair” “i think you people have some sort of stockholm syndrome w rosi bc this guy right here i love him with my whole heart right you all know that but let's face it he's ugly as hell i'm so sorry he does NOT compare to my beloved queen monet who is beautiful and gorgujsu and should be winning by the way 5.1% people voting caesar fucking clown who ARE you. what are your revendications. what is wrong with yous” “i knew rosi would win which is fair enough i do like the guy however my bisexual brain has forced me to choose baby 5 my deranged wife i love her” “I'm sorry Buggy gotta go with King the one guy who might have more beuatiful hair than you” “my 3 neurons are fighting eachother like king's got the face mihawk's got the style shanks's got the personality FUUUUUUUCK” “it’s ace but man. luffy in wano… esp in the wano prison” “Folks in the tags saying they both suck. Both are evil but Caesar has babygirl energy while Judge has exactly 0% babygirl energy.” “ceaser clown has been shown to be a pathetic meow meow and I'm living for it judge can kiss my ass” “ace is really hot unfortunately marco is the ugliest mf in one piece so i cannot vote for them”

“the fact that marco and ace have the least votes when they're literally the fire boys” “it's shanks and mihawk and whoever thinks otherwise need to get tested for covid” “drunk dilf and goth dilf for me” “FUCK YOU GUYS NO ACTUALLY SMOTASH MY ALL TIME FAVES FCUK YOU GUYS TGHIS IS SO AWFUL literally messaged my friend the other day “It's insane because smoker is my type in men and tashigi is my type in women. If they weren't so in love i would ask to get between them” i cant BELIEVE THISSSS ur asking me to let go of the smoke daddy and sword mommy? id rather kill myself thanks” “titties vs feral creatures vs old man yaoi vs brainrot” “look. LOOK. ur choosing fucking guy that bathes once a week and a misogynist (sorry sanji i do love you) OVER BENN BECKMAN SEX GOD (CANONICAL) AND SHANKS. A YONKO ARE YOU SERIOUS? fucking WORST POLL RESULTS IVE EVER SEEN the ONLY pair i would vote over bennshanks is kidkiller simply exquisite tits so understandable BUT FUCKING ZOSAN? im done with this bias. fuck you guys” “ok I love zosan and honestly all of these but no one can ever beat Marco/Ace for me cringfail feral greasy twunk w/ daddy issues and his emotional support grumpy old man doomed to die vs doomed to live but they’re making out abt it also Marco being a birb vs Ace raising himself in the jungle feral disaster couple that bite each other in public to show affection like it’s no big thing” “shanks and beckmann I suffer from terminal fuck that old man disease” “you guys have no taste (<- wants to be smothered in Kid's and Killer's enormous tits)”

“ZORO AND SANJIII 💚💛💚💛💚💛💚💛they are the most beautiful men ever <3” “cruelest dual poll yet I'm mostly torn between narco-fineapple and drunken smoke signals I love Zoro but I'm not that into Sanji likewise I love Kid but not that into Killer physically Killer is an awesome character but he just doesn't do it for me” “who the fuck is voting hawkins here hes a pretty-ish twink i guess but LOOK AT KILLER his arms are the size of my head (and i hope his arms crush my head)” “Appreciate both, they're both old and tall. O'Tsuru (Wano) is 55 years old and 6'3", while Tsuru (Marine) is 76 years old and 6'8".” “oh no this is so hard i love older women and bellemere is so butch (for op) standards but rosinante is soooo!!!! hes a freak a skinny quiet and deadly clown faces freak with a heart of gold i love him” “#Uaaaaaaaaah VIOLAAAAAAAA#i fucking love her my dancing queen 💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃Vivi is more cute to me than anything… She is pretty but I wouldn't consider her a hot or sexy woman It's just that she'll forever be the cute and cheerful princess I've come to know when i was a kid Reiju was sooooooo hawt but she lacked something I dunno what it is but i feel like in an arc with so many characters she got overshadowed and put aside Aside from that she's in my top 10 hottest girls in all of OP” “objective viola#subjective vivi will always have my heart”

“One thing about Nami and Robin. They're going to have each other's backs 💁🏾‍♂️” "haha. here i come i do like basil hawkins im ngl he is a Would for me but at the end of the day hes just a british twink isnt he now drake. drake on the other hand. this man is SO HOT !!!! (as in i would like 2 make him cry.) anyways he has like the repressed himbo nerd vibe on lock…..he would modern au wear a turtleneck that stretches over his FAT TITS and work as a fuckin like. librarian. astrophysics nerd (i find this very endearing) and old ladies would call him a handsome young man and he would blush from his ears 2 his chest…. so cute…………ugh hes so adorable actually very bad at going undercover. law clocked him immediately and he wont fess up LMFAO im tbh i cant actually put most of the tags i want to on here cause they are nsfw his fuckass sideburns…. so adorable and his backstory. WAHHH. i hate his dad and hes a dinosaur… cmon…. the dck possibilities…..also his dub voice is so hot very masculine very good also he fucking passes out at the barest hint of skin like a victorian man adorable the beast pirates fit also… ough. leather pants do smth 2 my brain thick thighs save lives ! in conclusion vote drake” “Silvers Rayleigh erasure WHY was Sengoku chosen???” “im upset that daifuku is already winning give my boy Peros some love!! WHAT THAT TONGUE DO they're both freaks but Peros is a bigger freak with a COOLER DEVIL FRUIT POWER YEAH I SAID IT who doesn't like candy? what does daifuku got going for him? his head tiny on his big muscly body Perospero's style is fancy LOOK AT THE FLOOF ON HIS HAT it took prozd to take him down which is funny I LOVE THAT FREAKY OLD MAN I COULD MAKE HIM WORSE I COULD BREAK HIM I WILL BREAK HIM GDI FUCK fuckin evil willy wonka child snatcher from chitty chitty bang bang-looking motherfucker i want to destroy him :)” “distressed gay noises*how am i supposed to piiiick yamato's t-boy swag and sick hair versus king's 'hitting all my standards'” “

Miscellaneous

“I need to evaluate each man intimately puts them in a yaoi situation and I am in the cuck chair “One is Daddy and the other is Baby Girl” “Oh you came straight for my soul with that one huh impossible to choose” “can't I just have two traumatized catholic orphans carrying around an oversized weapon as a treat?” “im being attacked!” “incredibly cruel post” “u put 5 of my husbands on here The pained no i let out was crazy ngl” “how am i supposed to choose on this one 😨” “These notes are like a test of patience on whether the average Tumblr user has eyes” “cant answer this is like asking which flavor is better than the other” “thirsting is half the fun” “YOU MADE ME CHOOSE??? HOW DARE YOU” “please do not make me choose this is a hate crime” “FOURSOME cough cough who said that” “Damn choosing between them is harder than my exams…” “oh now THIS is a poll aaaand you’re all wrong again. do better” “op really starting a war with this poll” “ "u put 5 of my husbands on here The pained no i let out was crazy ngl” “there are correct answers here and a lot of y'all are not picking them” “I'm not choosing!!!” “how am i supposed to choose on this one 😨” “I know its about preferences but there IS a correct answer to this one”

“please do not make me choose this is a hate crime” “i feel it needs to be more specific. hotter as in raw sex appeal? as in who'd you fuck in fmk? or the general hotness of all things combined?” “'m judging some of you hard” ““They are both hot and can't compete. Too different kinds of hot. I would prefer to see them both in my bed. For sleep over cuddles. Pretty please? 👉👈🥺” “this is incredibly biphobic where is the threesome option?” “oh no oh no… oh nonononono bisexual panic” “nope sorry can't do this one😭😭” “LMFAOOOOOOOOOO TRUTHFULLY WASNT EXPECTING THAT ONE good for him tho even more eldest daughter coded I think” “why fight like this when they can kiss” “they are in love!!!!! why did it have to be specifically them against each other 😭😭” “this is going like their actual fight in the anime” “Dilf or Brat?” “

some of these flags are the height of a skyscaper and some of them are handkerchiefs” “old men …. (says the lesbian)” “It's nice to think one piece fans will be less unhinged after an exorcism but I'm not sure that will help” “ITS 3:30AM AND I JUST TEXTED MY BROTHER OVER THIS POLL how dare you” “oh TO SEE TWO HOTTIES PITTED AGAINST EACH OTHER a dilemma! a shame! a TOTAL (other words for sad) but of course i voted and then regretted and then kissed them both on their foreheads and said 'you are both equally hot' smooch!!” “both are responsible intimidating adults with a soft spot for kids! how can you choose!!” “battle of the UILFs…..” “i could take em both :)” “I don't see it tbh but y'all live your dreams” “why are most of these guys old men what yall trying to say here” “oh gods These people are all a mess” “so fucking torn . you cant do this to me women when they are womaning” “they’re all so fine tho” “im down bad for one piece men” “Horny today, aren’t we?” “my dad would cry if I showed him this poll I think (He loves most of these characters)” “why would you do this to me like four of my husbands are in this 😭 I can’t decide I’m sorry I can’t 😂I just can’t two of them I’d be a widow” “frick you”

“THEY DON'T PLAY IN THE SAME CATEGORIES AT ALL YOU CAN4T MIX DIFFERENT SUBSPICIEZ LIKE THAT IT4S GONNA FUCK UP YOUR RESULTS” “this is the FIRST one that makes me physically ill holy crap theyre all soooooo (im a lesbian lmao wtf)” “never been so conflicted” “old man fucker website my ass!” “i will happily stand with my fellow 2%” “who are all these beefy identical looking literal clowns these aren’t all the same guy?? and I’m losing it over them all being jacked gimme some twinks anyways uhhh second to last guy? first guy? Idfk” “one piece husband” “this was designed to torture me specifically i s w e a r 😭😭😭😭good job op you chose violence with this one” “😭 crying in hot guysI mean I gotta pick my baby but there are so many really hot guys here it's hard” “not enough dilfs tbh” “Asking me to choose should be a crime 😭” “I'M NOT PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH YOU” “i have a collection of dilfs i swear i dont have daddy issues-”

“tumblr when they lie about being old men fuckers” “How do expect me to pick between the hot dilfs of one piece??? impossible 😩” “don't go here but i have mutuals who do” “so. here's a poll i can't vote in but have at it guys it should be a 9 way tie” “making me choose from so many is a crime and then i fucking misclicked…..” “I'm glad we all have same three brain cells” “i decided to vote for the MOST cursed imo lol i’m so glad it’s cursed bc i saw this and didn’t see that initially and was like OK maybe i need to read more of those defend your blorbo posts bc one piece fans i do not get it” “all the Gender characters in one place” “making the brothers fight … goddamn …” “cursed poll i refuse to vote can i have a no option? please” “I'm abstaining they both suck each as unattractive as the last they can make out with each other tho they deserve it” “reblogging because I want to see people fight” “penis poll activate” “that has to be the most stacked poll so far this is insane nuclear bomb vs nuclear bomb bs nuclear wtf” “Wife or wife 😭 that's evil” “Who cares, let them make out with each other i typed that comment and then was assaulted by a vague memory of submitting this match myself i am brilliant” “

[messitydepressity]

Fic Prompt Request. Joel & Tommy meet Tess! (This is canon verse, not a no-outbreak AU)

Please, and thank you so much!

Of course!

I did not expect to love this as much I did, lowkey might become a two parter.

This is in Joel’s POV, and I think I’d like to explore Tess’s.

Also keeping it under 1k was a lie I told myself lmao.

Anywho, I hope this is good enough 🫣

—

“What the fuck, Tommy?” Coated in gore and fucking livid, he could ring that dumb fuckers neck for the shit he just pulled.

They’d just spent the better part of five fucking days scoping this place out and sleeping in the icy rain.

And his brother had just pissed it away.

“She came out of nowhere, it ain’t my fault that she got in the way!” Tommy’s hissin’ and spittin’ in his face like a wet cat.

It only serves to make Joel’s anger ratchet higher.

“So you take her the fuck out. We’ve been over this, it’s us or them.” Throwing the broken chunk of wood he’d used to bludgeon the last clicker at Tommy’s feet in a fit, he presses the butt of his hands into his eyes.

There was enough medicine in that urgent care to set them up for a goddamn season.

Winter is getting ready to truly set in and the threadbare tent they’ve been staying in just over the border of Connecticut isn’t going to fucking cut it.

They’d needed that stash to bribe their way into a decent shelter within Boston QZ before the snow started to stick.

It’s bad enough that it’ll take another few weeks of hard walking to get there.

“I ain’t killing just for the hell of it, I’m still human. If you want to slaughter everything with a pulse, have at it.” He leaves Joel alone and seething, after throwing his hands up in exasperation and disgust.

Fine by him, he’ll let the drama queen take his walk and circle back to the medical center by himself.

One of them has to make sure they don’t die from exposure.

The place is still crawling with the half-rotted fungus heads, more stalkers than anything, but the stray click can still be heard leeching out of the building.

Fuck it, he’s going to die at some point.

Dropping in through the same section of collapsed roof as he and Tommy had used earlier, he holds still in his squat and listens for any sign of impending death.

Easing to his feet, he clicks his flashlight on and crosses it over his gun hand.

If that woman from earlier is still here, he won’t hesitate.

Glass cracks and splinters softly under his measured steps, the small examination rooms he passes already well and truly pilfered.

There’s a small locked storage closet with an old digital keep pad in the center of the building that’s rumored to house a fuck ton of medicine.

From antibiotics to Oxy.

It’s old, and not as potent, but it’s still worth a fair amount.

The raiders he and Tommy had taken out last week had been bragging about their plans to clear the place and claim the stash.

His brother hadn’t bitched when they’d slit their throats in the middle of the night and took their map.

A loud whack and a bellow have him spinning on his heel in the waiting room.

He’d expected more infected, not more men.

There are three of them crowding in a smaller figure behind the receptionist's desk and one of them is nursing a busted nose and spitting blood.

A second man hits his knees clutching himself, but the third gets his hands around the neck of the same woman who’d alerted a fucking horde earlier.

Jesus. Maybe Tommy was right to leave her be.

Later, he’ll tell himself that he had intervened because he saw the low-slung duffel overflowing with the very same shit he’d come for, that he’d only wrapped his arms around the slimy fuckers neck out of his and Tommy’s need to get off the road.

It was most definitely not because he could see the hand that slithered under the waistband of her jeans once she’d started to black out.

He’s not good enough of a person for that, not anymore.

And yet, as he slings that duffel overflowing his shoulder, he stays.

Crouched next to her as she gasps in gulping breaths while rolling onto all fours from where she’d hit the floor like a damn rag doll, he waits until her green eyes cut to him before standing.

He’s no stranger to the malice that rolls in her gaze.

“You alright?” He asks backing up a few steps and sliding his pistol out of its holster.

She’s eyeing the bag that rests against the back of his hip with a calculating gaze, no doubt trying to figure out how to get her hands on it.

Not fucking likely.

“I’d be better if you weren’t taking my shit.” She spits, voice lined with venom. Cocking a brow at her, he takes her in.

She’s probably five or so years younger than him, maybe Tommy’s age and the way she glares at him says that she ain’t one to back down from a fight.

As if the three beat-up men he’d taken out weren’t evidence enough.

Broken nose might have walked away, but the one she’d kneed in the nuts was bleeding like a stuck pig before Joel had plunged a knife into the soft spot of his temple.

“Finders keeper and whatnot, darlin’” she bristles at the saccharine sweet lull of the pet name before reaching behind her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Sparing his brother a glance as he comes around the corner with his gun trained at her head, he’s more than a little miffed to find him gore-free, blood-free, and dirt-free.

Somehow, Joel always comes out smelling like shit while Tommy sparkles like a goddamn rose.

And shows up after the hard shit is done.

“You boys even know what to do with all of that?” Now that Tommy’s covering his ass, he drops back into a squat to sit level with her.

“I’m assuming you want to barter with FEDRA, nobody else is willing to deal in anything bigger than a pill bottle or two, and a whole duffel is a fucking target.” She’s smart, and a fucking threat of she’s reading him that easy.

“What are we doin’ Joel.” He hasn’t known what the fuck he was doing since they’d left Texas, and this is no exception.

They’ve been winging it and hoping like hell it continues to work out.

“That what you were plan’n? There ain’t a QZ ‘round here, and travelin’ soldiers are more likely to shoot you before hear’n you out.” Shifting into a half crouch of her own, she studies him.

They’re two predators mentally circling each other while they look for weaknesses.

“I have a connection waiting for me.” Her jaw clenches and her chin juts out as her hands flex in the moldy carpet beneath them. “I’ll take you there, but only if we split it.” She could be bluffing, could be waiting until they’re out of this death trap to try to snatch the bag and run.

But they’d been banking on finding the sketchiest looking FEDRA soldier once they made it into Massachusetts, and hoping like hell that offering to trade contraband wouldn’t get them shot.

If she’s got a hookup, they need her.

Fuck.

“If you so much as think about fucking us over, I’m putting a bullet in your head.” Lips peeling back in a sneer, she nods.

Good enough for now.

Reluctantly holding his hand out to the woman he’d ripped Tommy a new one for not killing earlier, he introduces himself.

“I’m Joel, this is my brother Tommy.” Her hand clamps around his in a vicious grip as he pulls her up.

Shouldering past him, she pauses by the door that Tommy’s still hovering by.

“Tess, now let’s get the fuck out of here.” Ma’am, yes ma’am. He thinks sarcastically as she leads the way out like she’s the head of their group, and not the one with the shit end of this deal.

Trouble, he’s just invited trouble into his life, he just knows it.

—

Tysm for the prompt!🖤

@bumblepony

[luke-hughes43]

chicklets interview | will and dani

i ended up down a rabbit hole, especially with the idea of maybe having dani and will start dating a couple months earlier. like the night he gets back from world juniors is when i'm thinking. which is a few days before his interview with spittin chicklets.

i'm including some parts of it, but also adding my own thing with it!

~

will's pov

i'm meeting up with biz and whit over zoom for their podcast. we were supposed to meet in nashville at the draft but the plan changed. after winning the world juniors, it made sense to finally get it going.

i finally made it official with dani, the night i got back. only took me two years. she came home with me for the weekend, just to get some us time before school, and she's currently napping.

one thing i've learned about dani, is that she struggles sleeping so when she gets the chance to sleep, she'll take it. so she's sleeping in my bed while i'm doing this.

i jump on and start talking with the guys. a little way into us talking, biz asks about school, "so with leonard blowing kisses to the sweden fans, did he ever do something like at school? like who had the nastiest student section?"

"maine was tough. they were saying whatever they wanted up there. they said some absurd stuff to our goalie."

whit chimes in, "that's because they don't have any teeth."

i laugh and then add, "well so they were like throwing condoms and they were landing on my mom underneath."

"she was probably saying 'grab one will please!' the whole time." whit says. i'm laughing but i'm also extremely glad that dani is asleep and can't hear this. she'd kill me, would not be a good start to our relationship.

"wait, used ones? or were they new?" biz asks. whit dies and i cannot believe he just said that. i shake my head, "i hope they were new."

"well i don't know i never went to college." biz tries defending himself. i'm still laughing about it. RA ends up asking, "outside of hockey, how was your first semester of college?"

"it was I mean coming from the program. so it was obviously online now so it's completely different from uh when whit was there when you guys were at school, but um so it's we do school at the rink. so now going to class it was a little bit different of making sure you get there on time."

"so you're saying that you didn't have to go class and now your having to attend the classes?" biz clarifies. i nod, "yeah."

biz asks again, "how much sleeping is going on in class? because when i was taking classes during my time in the ohl, within 5 minutes of being there i was asleep."

"some days are tougher than others. to get to class." i explain without going into detail. i know they know what i'm talking about. we go on talking about my major and theater class with the boys.

we go on into my birthday with st. patrick's day being in boston and then playing for junior eagles and then knowing lenny for a while. we also talked a little bit of taking summers off and not skating year round. biz says, "i wanna go back to the classes, did you have any funny interactions with students? like have has anyone maybe sent over a note to you like I don't know?"

"um, sometimes. I mean sometimes we'll like be walking from class to class in the hallways and then a kid for his one other class would ask to interview the line we do an interview in between classes with another student for his class" i explain a little bit. it has happened and it was weird. me, lenny, and gabe agreed immediately that it was weird. biz comments, "ok that's kinda silly."

i'm thinking of a few times where i'm just running into dani in the halls as i explain it and whit catches me. he says, "he was blushing a little at the beginning biz. I think he's leaving out some certain females that might have reached out these guys."

"that's what i mean though. bc hockey is more well known than bc football am i wrong?" biz asks. whit, RA, and grinnell agree and say that he's right. he continues, "so like bc hockey is like the thing you must be just getting hounded in the halls here."

i chose my words carefully, "well we have some friends that help us out with work if we need to or study groups and stuff like that."

"the fuck does that mean? am i missing something here?" biz says.

whit stars laughing and trolls me, "he's got a tutor. he's got a few different tutors." biz interrupts, "you have a tutor?"

i more or less don't respond and whit starts listing of girls names, "ashley and jasmine and maggie." RA adds laughing, "charity."

the boys are laughing. i chuckle and say, "ok, i have a girlfriend."

"oh shit. smitty is locked down huh?" biz comments. whit adds, "you must be mr romantic huh? i'm sure your mom is begging for you to grab those condoms now."

i laugh and say, "it's new so relax. but yea, i'm dating someone, so no study groups. actually, she is my tutor. she helps me out when i ask for it." which is true, dani does tutor me and is helping me with my classes when i ask her.

whit laughs, "is that how you met her and locked it down?"

"no. i've known her for almost 3 years. and that's all i'm saying." i say and shut it down. i'm not telling people who my girlfriend is. me and dani haven't even been on campus as a couple yet so the chicklets boys don't get to know about it yet.

we go back to talking about the program. and then whit starts asking about sebs and the jump to the program and making the teams. biz starts talking about me being a morgan wallen guy and i'm nodding along. him and whit sing the chorus of last night and then whit says, "i saw him at fenway last summer. did you go to one of those?"

"yea i went friday night." i say. whit says how he was there that night too. we start talking about music and country music and then who in the room at world juniors had the aux cord. i say, "brindley has the aux cord."

"that's a big job." biz says.

"he brought the michigan music to our team which was good." i say. biz pipes up, "grinnell always talks about this big booty mix is that what's going on pregame or does he actually shuffle up his own thing?" i start laughing because i do jam to a good big booty mix every now and then. and brindley did throw one on in the room. he asks, "why are you laughing? you a big big booty mix guy?"

"i mean sometimes." i start to answer but whit cuts me off, "that's his tutor. i'm sorry girlfriend."

i toss my head back to laugh. i'm so glad that she's asleep right now. biz says, "what else besides morgan wallen? i know we're digging deep on the music stuff here."

"what about tate mcrae? heard your a big tate mcrae fan." grinnell asks. that asshole. he's tryna get me in trouble with dani. biz gets excited talking about her album. i stay quiet while he talks. grinnell asks again, 'you ever send her a dm?"

"no, he wouldn't do that. cut another players grass like that." biz defends me. i say, "i might've."

"no way."

i immediately say, "ok, lets set a few things straight here. when i sent her the dm, i didn't know she got cheated on by another hockey player, and i was not dating my girlfriend at the time. this was before school, so me and my girlfriend were not anywhere close to dating."

"look at you tryna cover your tracks." whit says and laughs. i say, "she's gonna kill me. i mean she knows i sent it. ryan told her as a joke so she knows but still. i'm not tryna get in trouble."

"good man." RA says with a laugh.

we talk about sydney sweeney and her movie a little bit. and about will smith the rapper. i'm getting fidgety, i don't normally sit still like this for long so i'm moving around in my chair. and i guess i moved too far and dani sleeping got in the shot. whit asks, "is that your girlfriend sleeping in the background?"

i smile, "yeah. it's her nap time. she doesn't sleep much at night so she normally naps in the afternoon when she has the time. since we're on break still, she's taking her nap and it just so happened that i'm doing this at the same time as her nap."

"well that's nice. how new are we talking?"

"i finally made things like official with her when i landed after world juniors, but i've been working on it for months. she's here for the weekend with me before we're heading back to school. funny enough, she was in the same theater class as me, lenny, and gabe." i say. i'm trying not to give away too much.

"oh so she really was your tutor?" whit jokes.

i shake my head, "not really. she's a political science major but needed to take theater to fill a credit and it just so happened that she sat in front of us. but we've known her for a few years. i've been trying for months to take her out and she let me take her out, two days before we left for world juniors and i knew i had to make it official when i got back. but again, i've known her for a while."

"good man. but political science major, she must have a brain on her?" whit says. i nod with a smile, "yea, she's wicked smart. she has her eyes set on law school, but she's also an athlete here so she understands the grind of everything. she's honestly amazing though and one of the best people i know."

"aw smitty's in love." biz comments. everyone laughs and i blush. whit says, "now that you told us about your girlfriend, we're gonna grill you on her now."

"i'm not giving everything away." i say.

they nod and then whit asks, "so how does a political science pre law student take theatre class with 3 top NHL prospects?"

"well you have to take a certain amount of non major credits. like your gen eds, and she needed like an art one or something like that and she wanted something lowkey to off set her poly sci classes and be relaxed and she settled on theatre i guess. i think if she knew that me, gabe, and ryan were in that class and would be sitting behind her all semester, she would've picked a different class." i explain joking.

"i don't blame her. is she close with them too?" whit asks. i nod, "oh yeah. i mean she's known us since the program, so she knows gabe and ryan well. and her best friend is cutter's girlfriend, so she's close with some of the boys."

"that's good i guess. what about ryan and gabe, they locked down?" whit continues hounding me on my dating life. i nod, "they have girlfriends too. my girlfriend is pretty close with both of their girls so we have a good group going right now. i'm not telling you her name, i don't need your crazy fans finding her and hounding her dms."

"fair enough. you telling us off the record?" biz asks. i shrug, "maybe. both of her brothers play hockey so if i say her name, she's gonna get found. and i'm not doing that to her. she's got enough going on. her pre season starts next week."

"what sport does she play?"

"lacrosse. she's like amazing. i would watch her play last year and she is so good. i'm excited to get to see her play in person this year. she's an outstanding athlete, probably better than me." i say smiling.

"look at this geeking out over his girlfriend. such a good guy. and your even giving her that after dusting me at the locker room tour." grinnell says. i chuckle and say, "hey, be glad she wasn't there. she'd dust both of us. it takes a different kind of athleticism to play lacrosse compared to hockey. i've worked out with her in the summer before having mutual friends and stuff and she kills some us in the weight room. she's just so good."

"and good looking i'm assuming?" biz comments. whit says, "relax biz. these kids are 18, chill out."

"she's 19 but yea, she's beautiful. maybe i'm a little biased because she's my girl but probably one of if not the most beautiful girl i've ever seen. she's so pretty." i say smiling. i love dani and there's no doubt about it. i have no issue saying that to someone. RA says, "what a good boyfriend you are. pumping her tires."

i shrug and whit asks, "can you like text me her name? i promise i won't say it but i wanna see what she looks like and who she is. i promise not to announce it on the pod."

i nod and quickly send him her name and instagram. he pulls his phone out and looks her up. he says, "holy shit dude, she's beautiful. and now seeing who her brothers are, that makes sense keeping her name private. and with where he brothers play, that could go crazy real fast."

"yea. i think besides like our friends, her sister, my sister, and my mom are the only ones who actually know we're together. like her brothers don't even know yet. i've been working on this for years guys. and she knows that but it's been 2 years in the making. it's finally happened and i couldn't be happier."

"so if i shot ryan leonard a text right now, he'll confirm that you've been trying for years to get your girl?" whit asks. i nod and i see him typing on his phone. about a minute later he says, "no shit you weren't lying. i guess you really were playing the long game."

i shrug with a smirk and then say, "no more about my girlfriend. i've said enough. anything you guys got for me?"

"nope. you got anything for us smitty?" whit asks. biz says, "nothing for the ladies man RA?"

"i'm good." i say. we've been at this for like 45 minutes so dani will be awake soon. biz says, "have we talked about us blowing you off in nashville?

"grinnell and i talked about during the locker room tour." i explain. RA says, "not publicly so let's talk about it."

biz says,

"it's my fault because I'd gone four and a half months sober and then they they kind of put all this work on me at the draft where I had to do something at the awards and I hadn't had a drink and then Merles put this fucking margarita in front of me right before we were supposed to go back and you know 10 a.m margs at at this restaurant Nashville and I said you know what I don't give a flying fuck about any more work it's time to crank it so my apologies but there was a reason it got backed up it's because we knew we were going to win a gold medal and come on and get to talk about that in the bean pot brother so congrats on all your success your first half at college and keep kicking ass man keep kicking it.

i smile, "thank you guys for having me."

RA asks, "well what time did they did they call you and bail out at what time did they did they let you know they were bailing out at?"

"I think it was in the morning. because we were supposed to meet at like 1." i say and grinnell says, "yeah Biz gave me the whole grenell cancel everything today."

whit comments, "then didn't go to sleep for like three days after" biz adds, "then I went on then I went on a bender. then I went on my college visit as they call them I'll be all right. well thanks so much buddy. have a great rest of the season pal you're a legend"

"thanks guys." i say and log off. i shut my computer and put my headphones away. i climb into bed with dani and she cuddles right into me and wakes up. she mumbles, "hi will."

"hey baby. have a good nap?" i ask and kiss the top of her head. she nods, 'yea. how was the podcast with chicklets?"

"good. i didn't wake you did i?" i ask while rubbing her back. she says quietly, "no. what'd you guys talk about?"

"little bit of everything. school, world juniors, the program. i talked abotu a little bit."

"me?"

"yea. nothing crazy and i didn't name drop but it got mentioned about dating and girls and stuff in college so i said i have a girlfriend and they asked a bunch of questions but i didn't say too much. is that ok? i can have them take it out."

"no it's ok. as long as my name wasn't said."

"it wasn't, i made sure not to. we're not there yet." i say. she nods in agreement and we just stay like that for a bit. she's not big into being touched so i'm surprised she's cuddling with me right now but i'm not gonna say anything. i love having her in my arms.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 7

About: Genji faces the pressure of a comeback, standing on the precipice of something new yet familiar. As the music fills the studio room, her connection with her craft (and a certain quiet intensity with Eminem) becomes undeniable, sparking a creative energy that neither of them can resist. The tension of a past that's not quite finished with her lingers, but so does the electricity between them; there might be more at stake than just the track.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21 | Verse 22 | Verse 23 | Verse 24 | Verse 25 | Verse 26 | Verse 27

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

Genji stood outside the recording booth, staring through the glass at the mic. It loomed like a mountaintop, distant but inevitable, as if daring her to reach it. Her hands were steady, but her breath was anything but. The sleek mic, haloed in dim studio light, seemed inviting and intimidating. It had been two years since her last album, and even longer since she'd felt this kind of pressure: a mix of expectation, ambition, and the quiet fear of falling short. This wasn't her first rodeo, but tonight carried weight, the kind that made her wonder if she’d left her best verses in the past.

"You good?" Dre's voice broke through her thoughts, warm and steady.

She turned to find him seated at the console, his calm demeanour a reassuring presence. His eyes held that quiet confidence she'd come to depend on, like a lighthouse in a storm. Beside him, Snoop sprawled out on the couch, lanky legs stretched out, a half-smoked joint balanced between his fingers. The room smelled faintly of weed and creativity, a strange but familiar cocktail.

"Don't tell me our Lil Ghost still get cold feet," the latter teased, his grin as smooth as the drawl in his voice. "You been spittin' bars longer than some of these kids been alive."

Genji rolled her eyes, but the nickname coaxed a small smile from her. "It's not nerves," she countered, folding her arms. "It's more like wanting it to be perfect. The last album was two years ago. That's forever in this game."

Dre leaned back, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, I get it. But remember, Gen — the game doesn't wait for nobody. We've got to drop something that speaks now, not something that's stuck in the past or overpolished. You feel me? The last album's two years ago, yeah, but it hit because you put in the time to make it authentic, not because you tried to force it."

The words landed softly but carried the weight of years of wisdom. Genji takes a deep breath, her gaze momentarily distant as if gathering her thoughts. "You're right," she says softly, her voice carrying conviction. She straightened up, her eyes now focused and determined. "Let's do this."

As she stepped toward the recording booth, Snoop leaned back casually in his chair, flashing her a laid-back grin. "Aight, time to show us what you got. Ain't nobody bringin' that fire like you. Just let it flow, y'know I'm sayin'?"

Dre gave her a firm nod of approval. "You got this, Gen. Remember, it ain't about chasing the perfect take. It's about making them feel something. Bring that energy, that soul. We're right here if you need anything."

The said woman paused just before the door, looking back at them with a small, grateful smile. Their words clearly bolstered her confidence. Snoop raised his hand, throwing her a peace sign. "We ridin' with ya all the way, girl."

Dre added with a smirk, "And if you mess up, we'll just fix it in post. No pressure."

The playful reassurance drew a light chuckle from Genji. She stepped inside the booth, her fingers brushed against the metal door handle, cool under her touch before the door clicked shut. The soundproof walls cocooned her, the world outside fading into muffled nothingness. She slipped on her headphones and adjusted them. She glanced up, seeing Dre and Snoop watching her expectantly, and gave them a thumbs up.

The beat slithered through her headphones, haunting with a minimalist melody that spiralled in the background like smoke curling through a dimly lit alley. Beneath it, the bass rumbled, low and relentless, like the hum of distant thunder. Percussion snapped and stuttered over the track, sharp and unpredictable, building tension with every snare hit. The rhythm shifted unexpectedly, weaving in and out of syncopation like it was alive, daring her to find her footing.

Genji took a breath, feeling the pulse of the beat sync with her own. Then, she began.

Ay, 時が経つたび何かが変わる (Toki ga tatsu tabi nanika ga kawaru) (Every time the days go by, something's changing) 見失ってた道、今掴む (Miushinatteta michi, ima tsukamu) (Lost the path before, now it's what you're claiming) 昔のような輝き戻す (Mukashi no yōna kagayaki modosu) (Bringing back the shine you used to see) 遠い記憶さえも抱き起こす (Tōi kioku sae mo dakiokosu) (Even distant memories are holding you)

Her eyes blazed as the next line poured out of her, her body moving instinctively to the beat. She swayed with every syllable, her hands slicing through the air to emphasise her words. Her flow was relentless, the rhythm a part of her now. Her voice lifted, raw emotion surging like an unstoppable wave. She wasn't just performing. She was living the track, pouring her soul into every bar.

ステージの上、あの日の顔 (Sutēji no ue, ano hi no kao) (On the stage, that face we used to know) ���じゃ影だけ、薄れた色 (Ima ja kage dake, usureta iro) (Now it's just a shadow, colours fade so slowly) 音の中迷い込むけど (Oto no naka mayoikomukedo) (Lost within the music, searching where to go) 響かない声、もう届かないよ (Hibikanai-goe, mō todokanai yo) (But no sound echoes; it doesn't flow)

Her head dipped low as she spat the next lines, her intensity building with every bar. Her delivery was relentless, voice snapping like the crack of a whip, the booth practically vibrating with her energy. She felt nothing but the beat, the words, and her own determination.

You used to be on top, Now the game's stopped. どこ行った？孤独なスポット (Dokoitta? Kodokuna supotto) (Where'd you go? Alone in a cold spot) 名前も過去も、霧の中ロスト (Namae mo kako mo, kiri no naka rosuto) (Your name's forgotten, lost in the fog) 心で叫べ、だけど虚しい (Kokoro de sakebe, dakedo munashī) (Screaming from your heart, but it feels so wrong) 誰も耳を貸さない冷たいシーン (Dare mo mimiwokasanai tsumetai shīn) (No one's here to listen; the scene's too cold)

Her movements were fierce, almost primal, as if she was carving her place into the beat itself. She didn't see Snoop bobbing his head harder now, his hand tapping the rhythm on his knee; not even Eminem who'd returned to the studio now watching her with his head slightly, crossing his arms, as the smirk grew just a little wider.

So go ahead, act like you're still the king, でも現実見れば痛い sting (Demo genjitsu mireba itai sting) (But reality hits with a painful sting) どこ行った？忘れられたリズム (Dokoitta? Wasure rareta rizumu) (Where’d you go? A rhythm left behind) その声、もう響かない beat and system (Sono-goe, mō hibikanai beat and system) (Your voice, no longer echoing in time)

The last word hung in the air like smoke, thick and electric. Genji finally stepped back, chest heaving as she removed the headphones. For the first time, she noticed the looks on their faces.

Snoop let out a sharp laugh, clapping his hands. "Yo, you murdered that! Straight-up fire."

Dre stood, his grin rare and genuine. "That's what I'm talking about. You didn't just rap; you owned it."

Eminem walked forward slowly, his eyes fixed on her. He extended a hand, his voice calm but cutting through the room like a drum hit. "You're a beast. That was raw. Respect."

Genji stared for a moment, then broke into a wide grin as their hands clasped. "Thanks. Means a lot coming from you."

As the buzz of excitement lingered in the air, Dre clapped his hands together, commanding attention. "Alright, we got work to do." He turned toward the soundboard, already slipping into his producer's mindset. "Snoop, stay and vibe with me. Gen, you're headin' next door. Eminem, take her through another track."

The latter's smirk deepened as he gestured toward the adjacent studio room. "Let's see if you've got more of that fire."

She blinked, still riding the high of her last performance. "We're writing another one from scratch?"

He nodded, already heading for the door. "We are. Let's go."

The room was smaller and more intimate, dimly lit with a warm amber glow from the wall lights. A keyboard and a couple of guitars leaned against the wall, and a whiteboard stood in the corner, markers scattered on its tray. The hum of equipment filled the silence as he adjusted his snapback. A couple of notebooks were scattered on the desk, some pages filled with his signature scribbles. He leaned back in his chair, his expression casual but focused.

"Alright," he said, glancing at Genji. "Show me what you got. No pressure, though. Just remember, I'm kinda a big deal."

Genji chuckled, opening her laptop. "Yeah, yeah. Don't let the ego trip you on the way out."

He chuckled; a short, sharp sound. "Fair enough. Let's hear it."

She clicked on a track, and the speakers crackled to life, unleashing a raw, layered beat. The driving bassline pulsed beneath haunting keys, while a syncopated snare hit gave the rhythm a restless energy. Faint vocal samples floated in and out, adding an almost otherworldly texture. It wasn't aggressive. It simmered like it was restrained, leaving space for something more.

As Eminem listened, his head bobbing to the beat and his face scrunching up slightly, Genji grabbed her pen, letting the melody loop as she absorbed it. Music dictated her words, not the other way around. The eerie tone of the track made her think of resilience and struggle, themes she couldn't seem to shake lately.

"Okay," he finally muttered, mostly to himself. "This ain't bad. It's got mood."

"Good mood or bad mood?" Genji teased.

He shot her a look, deadpan. "I'm Eminem. Ain't no such thing as a good mood."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Aight, let's see what that 'bad mood' can do."

She watched him grab a pen and start scribbling, the sharp scratch of the pencil lead against paper mixing with the beat. His lips moved silently as he tested lines, piecing together the right flow. When he finally looked up, he leaned into the mic and delivered the verse with a low, biting tone:

I'm a ghost in the flesh, watch me haunt this stage, Built my name outta pain, now I'm trapped in a cage. Every smile's a disguise, every laugh's a blade, Cut so deep, I'm bleedin' out the mess I made.

Genji nodded slowly, absorbing the words. "That works," she said, her pen already moving. She took a deep breath, her pen moving quickly. The beat seemed to pull the words from her, shaping them before she even realised what she wanted to say.

After a moment, she looked up and let her verse flow:

傷ついた夢、消えない記憶 (Kizutsuita yume, kienai kioku) (Scarred dreams, memories that won't fade) この孤独、抱えて進む道 (Kono kodoku, kakaete susumu michi) (Carrying this loneliness, the path ahead is steep) I'm breakin' through the static, breakin' what they made, 'Cause even in the dark, I know the dawn won't wait.

Eminem raised his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. "Okay, okay," he said, leaning back. "You're not bad. That was clean."

"Not bad?" she echoed, pretending to be offended. "I thought I was supposed to be 'good'."

He smirked. "Relax, you're holding your own. But don't let it go to your head. I still run circles around most people."

She rolled her eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Eminem Slim Marshall."

He chuckled, picking up his pencil again. "Aight, let's build on this. You're all introspective and poetic; I'll bring the heat."

The two of them fell into a rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other, refining lines, and tweaking the track as they went. His verses hit hard, sharp and unapologetic, while her words added layers of emotion and introspection. The contrast was a conversation, raw and real.

After an hour, the track was coming together. Eminem leaned back, his arms crossed, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "You know," he said. "This might actually be something."

Genji raised an eyebrow. "Only 'might'?"

He laughed. "Aight, fine. It's dope. Happy?"

She grinned. "Yes, very much. I'll take that."

He shook his head, still smiling. "Don't get used to it." Then, after a pause, he added, almost as an afterthought. "You're good, though. For real. Most people try to impress, but you just do you. I respect that."

She blinked, caught off guard. "Thanks," she said softly.

"Don't mention it," he said, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "Now let's finish this before we both start getting all sentimental."

"Wouldn't want that," she remarked with a small laugh.

Eminem nodded, a ghost of a grin still on his face as he turned back to the beat.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Homecoming

Back with another Lancer story, feat. My OCs Booker and Mac. This one's a hurt/comfort, and I hyperfixated on it so hard I wrote it during work. I fell asleep thinking of this idea and remembered it this morning, that's how bad the writing brainrot was.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy. And if you do, please like and reblog! It gets my work out there and encourages me to keep writing.

(TW: Blood)

---------------------------

“Well? How's it lookin’?”

Mac nearly banged his head against the open chest piece as he stood up, swerving out of the way just in time.

“Phil, I gotta ask you something.” He wiped his forehead, leaving a smear of black as he accepted a jar of tea. It sweated nearly as much as he did, the ice quickly melting in the summer heat.

The old man tilted his head. The toothpick sticking out of his mouth was nearly tar-black, his face more wrinkles than features, his white tuft of hair reminiscent of a piece of cotton fluff. “Yeah?”

Mac took a swallow. The tea made his teeth ache, barely cooling him at all. “Where you spit your chewing tobacco?”

Thick brows came down into a furrow. “What’d’ya mean? Straight in, o’course. The core on Miss Maisy here cooks it straight up so the missus don't go gettin’ mad at me for spittin’ in the fields.”

“Ah,” Mac said in response. “Well, start carrying a cup, old timer. Maisy’s getting on in years, and any more of your spitting and she'll be more tobacco than mech.”

Phil squinted at him. “Y’sure?”

Setting the jar by his equipment, Mac sighed. It was a futile effort to wipe his hands clean, yet he tried all the same. “Phil, she ain't no fancy Lancer mech. Maisy's got some good years on her, and if you treat her right, she'll run for longer than you or I will be kicking. Treat her like your wife, don't spit on her, listen to her when she grumbles, bring her to me when she's sick, and she'll be right as rain.”

There was a wicked glint in the old man’s eye. “Well, about that spittin'-”

“Hey. I don't need to know what you and your wife get up to. Just stop putting your tobacco leavings in Maisy. I'll be by with Rosie in a bit to haul her back to mine. She's gonna need a bit of loving before I can send her home to you.”

“Y’ gonna finish yer tea?” Phil asked.

Mac looked at him sidelong, picking up the jar. “Yeah. Why?”

“Need the jar.”

With a smirk, Mac raised it. “Attaboy.” He downed the contents, handing it back.

As the truly disgusting sound of Phil clearing his chewing tobacco filled the air, Mac sighed, staring across the rolling fields.

His mind was still on the news reels off the Omninet, blaring headlines screaming “Death to the Mercenary Queen”.

It had been days.

No response from Booker. From any of his old CORSAIR buddies.

A slap on the back set him stumbling.

“Aw, don't y’ worry that head o’ yers, Ricky. I'm sure yer husband's dandy.”

A rumbling sound cut off his reply.

Phil squinted. “Ain't that one of them fancy vehicles from the military landin’ port nearby?”

Instantly, Mac felt his heart squeeze. Flying down the road, the vehicle came to an abrupt stop, backing up until it was stopped in front of the two men.

“Mac!” Dupont yelled. “Get in!”

Mac looked at Phil, who shrugged. “Seems important. The ol’ girl and I can wait.”

Slapping the old man on the back in thanks, Mac grabbed his tools and ran for the vehicle. The open top allowed him to jump in, slinging his legs over the doors as it immediately took off.

Floyd grinned at him lazily, aviators glinting in the sunlight. “Heya boss,” he drawled. “Fancy seein’ you in these parts.”

“Fuck you, Floyd,” Mac said breathlessly. “What the fuck are you two doing on my planet?”

“Merde. Your fucking planet. You've gotten worse since we've seen you last.” Dupont took a drag of his cigarette, the red tip barely hanging on in the whipping wind. He pressed on the gas, steering one handed as the countryside flew by.

“Just answer the question.” He grabbed Floyd’s ear, twisting it just enough to make the man squirm. “Talk, Presley.”

“Agh! Fuck, fine! Booker and Mira are set to land soon.” Floyd frantically tried to escape Mac’s seeking fingers. “Karson and a few other mechanics are seeking refuge too. Commodore’s dead, half the staff were killed or arrested, and the Requiem’s a shitshow.”

Mac’s hand fell as he stared in shock. “S-send them to my place,” he said faintly. “Who started this?”

“She's not to blame, Macguyver,” Dupont called out over his shoulder. “Morse did her best. She's the reason so many of us lived. You weren't there, you didn't see how Commodore was. She was…” he shook his head. “It was worse than we could have imagined.”

“Morse?” Mac asked.

Floyd waved him off. “Past your time. I hear she's one of the handlers that genuinely cares. Bleeding heart and all that.”

The wind whipped around Mac’s ears, the military base quickly coming into view. “And my husband? Mira? They injured?”

“A little worse for wear, but they'll live,” Dupont replied. “Identification out, gentlemen. We're coming up on the security post.”

-

As soon as Mac’s feet hit the asphalt, he was back in Corsair. Memories rushed all around him as he sprinted to the mech hangar, the shouts of his friends drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears.

People moved out of the way. They saw the toolbox before the man, and assumed he belonged.

Rightly so. He hadn't run a team of mechanics for nothing.

Oil and grease filled his nose, the smell of chemicals sharp in the air. A humming sensation rippled throughout the hangar, setting his teeth on edge and buzzing in his nose.

Absentmindedly, Mac noted that it was a touch too low, meaning the Empress would need to be recalibrated.

The mech landed, and for a second, it was not red, but blue.

Robin’s egg blue.

Scratched up with silver shining through, the cockpit gutted and hanging empty, with more blood than any one human could live through soaking the gears.

He blinked away the memory. His father was long gone, but the fear remained.

It always remained.

Mechanics rushed to and fro, yelling as they secured the Crimson Empress in place.

She'd seen better days. Mac wanted to kill the person who scratched her paint, lovingly polished by his husband every chance he got.

The hatch clicked and hissed as it opened.

His heart stuttered.

A head appeared, then another, a broad frame filling out his hardsuit as he took the helmet off.

A flash of golden blonde hair.

At this distance, it was too far to make out Booker’s trademark grimace. The man permanently scowled, something Mac liked to tease him about in their private moments together.

He remembered the moment he'd been a goner.

Dozing off at the side of a hospital bed, heart twisted up as he tried to figure out why he cared so much. Booker and Mac had fallen in bed together again and again, never talking about it, until then.

Until a hand sunk into his hair, the sound of the heart monitor picking up, and Booker’s whispered, “Fuck. Why did it have to be you?”

And his mental response had instantly been -

Because I love you.

Here, in the present, Booker hopped out of the cockpit. He bickered with the other figure as they descended, Mira’s helmet coming off to reveal a tired face, covered in little bandages.

Behind him, Mac felt Floyd and Dupont stop.

Booker hit the ground level, making eye contact with Mac.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Corsair, not Daisy or the Empress, not even their friends.

The world narrowed down to the two of them, two tiny specks in a vast, cold universe, forever orbiting around each other.

Booker made the first move.

He strode forward with purpose, tucking his helmet under one arm as he reached for his husband.

Mac was helpless to comply. He fell into Booker’s tight embrace, inhaling the sweat and medicinal salve with a shuddering breath.

Booker pulled away just enough to stare at Mac, huffing. Whether it was in frustration or relief wasn't clear.

“Sorry. Some stragglers bitched about needing a ride.”

Mac laughed wetly, a sob breaking the sound. “Fuck you, Adrian.” He yanked his husband down into a kiss.

Around them, their friends whooped in delight, cheering all sorts of awful obscenities.

Mac didn't care.

His husband was home.