#YOU DO NOT GET TO LAUGH AT A MAN CRYING INTO THE DIRT AND RUNNING AROUND AN ACTUAL GRAVEYARD AT NIGHT FOR FREE. HE DOES NOT DESERVE THAT.

[doors-worstenemy]

one video has completely turned my view of night mind around. I'm not a huge fan of night mind, I'm a fan of horror and mystery. but I'm not smart, so i watch explanation videos so I'm sure I understood 100% of the plot. Night Mind did a great job of this- mostly- with Marble Hornets, EverymanHYBRID, and things like this house has ppl in it, so I've started looking into his videos for more. Things like Chainmail Chasers, POSTcontent, Rapid Eyes, they were all fine videos from him, treated fair and explained well- praise and criticism where it was due. But it's videos like his "case file" or whatever he calls it on the series "JustAcquaintances" that pisses me off. When he started laughing at them in part 2 I couldn't keep watching. It's rude, it's pointless, it's mockery. No explanation or defense at the end of the video can make up for that. JustAcquaintances is what most arg/found footage fans want to be. A fun homemade series with friends, something made with passion and genuine interest- not professional and trained. Marble Hornets is good found footage because it's professional, they knew what they were doing and planned every step months or years ahead. If I'm not wrong, some members of Marble Hornets were in school working on film/acting. Either way, it's professional. JustAcquaintances is an example of well preformed fanwork in the best way possible. Their acting is amazing, a bunch of stupid guys looking for trouble end up in deep shit with the paranormal and a cult. The police, real or fake, time and time again leave them in either deeper shit or the same as before. Now people are dying, being kidnapped, stalking, beating, torturing our protagonist. It's good. It's a good series. It's what I want every found footage fan to create, i want a dozen million fans to go out with their ideas and do this. Because I don't expect every series to be another EverymanHYBRID. I don't want another Marble Hornets. I want raw passion of creativity woven from horrific inspiration. And I've seen the Slenderverse/yt horror community. They are critics, expecting the best, expecting all of the creators effort into these series'. But these are free. They are on Youtube, somewhere that's very famous for not giving creative- esp horror related- projects the attention and monetization they deserve. These are projects filmed by humans for the sake of letting their dark little project out of their heads and onto your screen. They deserve praise, they deserve your attention, they deserve your patience, and they deserve your criticism NICELY. THEY DON'T GET PAID ENOUGH BY THESE VIDEOS FOR YOUR SPONSERED, MONITETIZED, WELL RECEAVED VIDEO TO LAUGH AT THEM. THEY DESERVE TO BE PRAISED FOR THAT SCEEN REALLY, IT LOOKS AND SOUNDS LIKE HE'S REALLY BEING BEATEN BY A BAT, THEY AREN'T HITTING HIM IN THE HEAD OR SPINE, THEY AREN'T HITTING ALL TO HARD, THEY'RE BEATING HIM FOR THE SAKE OF BEATING HIM. AND IT'S WELL PREFORMED. HE'S CONFUSED, HE'S TRYING TO PROTECT HIMSELF AGAINST SOMEONE HE KNOWS KIDNAPPED AND HURT HIS BROTHER. HE'S SCARED. HE ISN'T FIGHTING BACK BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE'S ALONE, DEFENSLESS. HE DOESN'T DESERVE YOUR LAUGHTER. Even if poorly acted, he is on the floor, rolling in dirt, with bugs and germs in a public area, crying and whining, all for your entertainment. Not for money, for you- a supposed fan of found footage- to enjoy his act. He's willing to roll and scream in public, in the dirt, for you to laugh at him. It seems unfair, to do all this and expect nothing in return. JustAcquaintances is a good series, it's not hollywood, it's not professional, but it's exactly the passion I want to see every artist put into their work. It's what I want from anybody that's been inspired by horror or found footage, it's art and I wouldn't ever want them to change it. I'd want them to learn from it. Take what they've created and keep creating- just for the sake of creation. Criticism is necessary for art to prosper, but criticism isn't an hour and a half of copy and pasted footage occasionally interrupted by laughter or high expectations.

[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 307,284 others

landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[heartfullofleeches]

Maybe a better idea..... Farmer Flemish giant rabbit Yan catches Foxboy reader, but gives reader the choice that if he becomes the yans malewife he can live.

(That was the plan to some extent in the long run, but the chase is fun, no? Regardless, here's a blurb of the two lovebirds)

Male Flemish Rabbit Yan + Foxboy Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, kidnapping. Reader's pronouns are not mentioned, but they are thought of as male. The term Wife is used.

-

That bastard....

"Let me out! Let. Me. Out!"

Rearing your legs as far back as the tight space would grant, your knees bump into your chest as you kick out. Metal grates dig at your arms with every slight turn and jostle of your body. Dirt and moulted feathers mat your fur, yet there isn't any poultry in sight for you to feast and console yourself upon.

Damn it... You knew it was too good to be true. That farmer was a fool, but a watchful and cautious one at that. He'd never leave the door to his pens open unless he was sick or injured. Maybe part of you had prayed that he was. Wrong as it may be to wish ill on someone making a living for himself, you were just trying to survive too.

"Let me out.... please.." Your voice wavers as the pains of hunger and stress exhaust what little strength you have left. Your balled fists slap pathetically against the metal cages as tears well in your eyes, daring to spill. You won't let them. You won't let him win.

"I said...GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

The gravel outside your wooden prison shifts.

"In due time, Love. We've got a deal to make first."

Dread consumes the emptiness in your stomach, pinning your limbs to the dirt covered floor as he at sinks to his knees. Your knees curl into your chest once more, body and mind subconsciously making yourself smaller as his larger figure draws into view - blocking your sight of the forest beyond his land. Your home. You don't even realize your crying till his fingers brush the wetness from your cheek. You have half a mind to bite them off as they get stuck between the grates.

You snarl- "If you wanted me gone you could've asked..."

The farmer presses a strong hand to his mouth, suppressing a laugh. "If I wanted ya gone, I would'a taken the sheriff's generous offer of a shotgun the last time I had him over. You know how he is about outsiders."

The bite in your stare remains - still, your legs quiver at the mention. "You aren't going to turn me over to him, are you?

He can't. The farmer is lenient towards your crimes, but that man.. That rabbit... He'll have you hanging from the town hall by nightfall.

"Please... I'll...I'll do anything...I'll work off my debt day and night, I-"

"Sweetheart...." The farmer rest a hand on the steel wall of the coop, gently petting its bars as he would your fuzzy little head once you agreed to be his. "It's okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you or make you do any hard labor."

"Then-" Your cracked tongue wets your splitting lips. "What do you want from me?"

The farmer cranes his head, meeting you eye to eye. The bags beneath his eyes seemed heavier than usual. How long had been out here waiting for you to return?"

"Cute little fox like yourself shouldn't be out here scrounging around for scraps or the occasional unattended hen. You should have a roof over your head, a comfy bed, all the food you could ever want."

What's he going on about? Another trap?... "If I'm not going to work for it... How does this deal benefit you?"

"I want you to be my wife."

"Wha?!- Ouch!-" Your head shoots up, ramming into the low hanging support beams. "Are you crazy?"

The farmer lets a chuckle slip. "Heh, I'd have to have lost my mind not falling for ya. Think about it this way, Sweetheart. You come home with me and I fill that belly of yours full of food. Or I call up the sheriff and he fills it with lead. Your choice."

Your howling stomach betrays any fight you have remaining. You don't have many options in this scenario. Push come to shove, you could possibly make your escape in the dead of night when he least expects it - taking as many of his hens as your arms could carry.

"Okay... I'll.. be your wife."

"Smart fox." The farmer stands - rounding the corner to the front of the henhouse. He lifts the wooden board that had fallen into place as you crawling inside hours ago. Your legs are too cramped and spent from all that kicking to fight him as he pulls you out by your tail and into his well built arms. The farmer presses his nose to your face, nuzzling your cheek as he walks off towards his home - carrying you bridal style.

"Welcome home, Hun."

[alvojake]

Destructive Nature | S.JY

「prompt」 : self-destruction 「pairing」 : jake x fem!reader 「word count」 : 0.8k

「synopsis」 : everything was going great with jake; he was nothing like your past boyfriends. he was sweet, caring, attentive, a gentleman… and that’s what you hated most because there was no way anyone was like that all of the time. so you did the only thing you knew… ruin it before it ruins you.

「genre」 : angst

「warnings」 : cussing, self-destructive tendencies, argument, crying, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : okay, so this sucks ass, like severely... but I wrote it last minute and completely lost where I was initially going with this one; day four will be better, I promise

masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list

You don’t know why you always picked fights with Jake; you had absolutely no reason to do so. Jake had been a fantastic boyfriend to you for the past year or so. However, it was starting to feel a little too comfortable for you.

There was always the nagging voice in the back of your head that would always tell you that something bad was going to happen or that Jake was only really with you because he felt bad. You had always managed to push those thoughts away and live with Jake happily.

Then it all went crashing downhill.

First, it was the little things; you started to suspect that he was cheating when he was gone for just a little too long at night. To, you started to pick fights about the smallest things, the laundry not folded the way you wanted, the dishes in the sink, small messes in the living room that Jake would forget about when he was gaming, anything that you could possibly fight over. Then you started to give Jake the cold shoulder, especially when he would ask you to go out with him, always claiming that you were ‘too tired’.

You wanted to bash yourself over the head for doing all of this because you loved Jake so much. However, when you started to see that he wasn’t going to turn out like your exes you wanted to run, you didn’t think that this was real. That it was all just merely a dream, a farce.

So you started doing what you did best… destroying it all. 

Including yourself.

“Y/n, I don’t understand what’s happening with you here lately.” Jake huffed, running his fingers through his hair, trying his best to keep his voice steady even if you were making it nearly impossible.

“Oh, so I have an issue now?” You scoffed, turning your body as a small laugh escaped your lips.

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, “No. That’s not–”

“Save it, Jake, actually…” All of the hairs on your body as you realized what you were getting ready to say, and you screamed at yourself internally to not say it, but it didn’t stand a fighting chance. “This isn’t working anymore.”

Jake felt his heart stop as those few words fell from your parted lips, his eyes boring into yours, trying to find any semblance that you were just messing around, as cruel as it may be. But you weren’t, and he could tell.

“What? No, y/n, you can’t just say that! We can talk this out, okay?” He started to walk towards you but stopped short when you shot him a glare, “Y/n… we love each other, we can figure–”

“I don’t.” Those words fell from your lips before you could even get the chance to stop them, causing your heart to sink. The pain that fell over Jake’s face made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in the dirt. It was an expression that you wished you never would have to see, but you knew it was inevitable.

This wasn’t ever meant to last, no matter how much either of you wanted it to.

After a beat of silence, Jake spoke up, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, “What?”

Swallowing thickly, you tried your best to keep the tears at bay and maintain a neutral expression: “I’ve lost feelings for you, Jake.” 

It was then that you could have sworn that you had utterly broken a man who deserved not even an ounce of it. You wanted so badly to just take all of what you had said back and apologize to him, promising him that it would never happen again. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t swallow your pride or even try to fix things because you needed to ruin this before it eventually ruined you.

“What?” Jake repeated the same word like a broken record, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks like waterfalls.

You knew that if you stood there any longer, you would cave, and that couldn’t happen, so you started to walk away. You didn’t get very far before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, gently tugging you until you turned to face him.

“Please tell me this is just some sick joke, y/n. That this past year meant nothing to you.” His voice cracked, eyes endlessly searching for a sign that this was just a stupid nightmare,

“I’m sorry, Jake.” 

But it wasn’t a nightmare, at least not one that you have while you sleep and that disappears the moment you wake up. No, this was one that, no matter how much you wish you could wake up, you just couldn’t.

With a heavy heart, you slip out of his grasp and flee the apartment, leaving Jake to stare at the spot where you once were standing. Wondering how everything went wrong in such a short amount of time.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[alexa-fika]

If your requests are open, how would you feel about child reader being found by Garp, Helmeppo, and Koby?

(Maybe their crew thought they were on the ship and accidentally forgot them on an island or something idk, I just want grandpa Garp with his new grandbaby)

New Apprentice (Koby, Helmeppo x gn!Child!reader x Garp)

A/N YA’LL I COOKED HERE, highkey worried that they are ooc here but other than that I LIKE, proud of how this one turn out, let me know what you think of it. Big brother Koby and Helmeppo 🥹, guys am I the only one picturing that being one of the most wholesome things?

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Koby, are you even listening?!”

“Haha, I am Helmeppo”

“Seriously, you have got to start….

Koby let out a nervous laugh as Helmeppo began going on a tangent, scolding him as he focused on the path ahead of him, paying little attention to his partner’s rambles, only giving out the occasional quip here and there to keep him appeased, which did, until he spotted something in the path that got his attention.

He frowned, kneeling down to look at the object, catching the attention of Helmeppo, who watched over his shoulder.

“Huh, is that a stuffed toy?” He asked, looking at the dirt-covered wolf as Koby picked it up, wincing at the red splashes matting its fur

“Yeah…has blood on it.”

“Maybe it’s from someone who left it long ago, maybe from a kid who tripped?” The blond suggested

“No, it’s way too much to be from a scrape, and look,” he said, pointing at the path.

Helmeppo frowned as he spotted the small tracks that cut through the path leading out into the small forest that surrounded it. 

“It rained earlier today, so these had to happen recently, and the blood is fresh, too,” he muttered.

“Let’s go,” The pinkenette announced, following the direction of the tracts, letting himself be guided by the disturbed soil, broken branches, and the occasional drops of red that colored the ground.

“Hey do you thi- Hey! What the hell, Koby?”

“Wha-? What’s wrong Helmeppo-san?”

“Don’t give me that you just chucked a stone at me!”

“What are you talking about Helmeppo-san?” Koby asked, confused as he stood up from his kneeling position as he looked at the tracks

“If it wasn’t you, then wh-OW.”

“I -I will hurt you, s-so go away!” A small voice cried, chucking a rock at the marine

Koby let out a hiss, rubbing his head and turning to the voice, easily finding the culprit standing in one of the tree’s lower branches, a small child holding a handful of stones in their hands.

“Hey, how about we put those down?”

“No!” They cried, throwing yet more rocks at both of them

They squeaked as Helmeppo pulled out his swords and easily cut through the stones set his way. What most caught them off guard, however, was Koby’s sudden disappearance. They stared at the spot he had stood at confused, looking around to see where the man had went with no success.

The child released a surprised gasp as they soon found out the man had appeared beside them on the branch.

Koby enveloped the child in a tight but gentle embrace and jumped off the tree; before he had a chance to address the kid, he found himself stepping back, a shocked look on his face as the child pulled a small knife, trying to stab him.

He frowned, watching as the kid took the opportunity to run behind the tree.

“Koby, wait,” Helmeppo called, putting his arm on his partner’s shoulder to prevent him from pursuing the child.

“Helmeppo-san? We should get the knife from them; they could hurt themselves or hurt someone.”

“I think we should try a different way, look,” he said, gesturing to the crying child peeking out of the tree.

“They aren’t trying to hurt someone; I think they are just scared.”

“Ah, I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you; I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Koby cried, taking in the child’s state, letting another cry as the kid ducked behind the tree when he reached out to them.

“Ah, I must have scared you, right? I didn’t mean it; I really am sorry for that,” he apologized, a nervous smile on his face as he sat down. Helmeppo followed suit and sat next to him.

Dokucha popped their head out again, watching as the men sat cross-legged, ways away from the tree.

“Umm, we found this earlier,” Koby tried, showing them the wolf plush.

“Ah! Mr.Okami!” they exclaimed, stepping away from the tree and trying to reach for the stuffed toy, only to realize their actions and quickly step back.

“It’s okay; you can have it back if you’d like; how about we trade?” Helmeppo suggested, pointing to the knife

They seemed to think about it, glancing at the knife in their arms and Helmeppo’s awaiting hand to the stuffed toy Koby was offering to them. Finally, as they slowly made their way to them, they placed the knife on Helmeppo’s hand. The former gave them a small smile as they then walked in front of Koby and grabbed the stuffed toy, hugging the toy tightly as they sat in front of them.

“H-hey, you’re bleeding!” Koby exclaimed, apologizing when they flinched at his tone

Koby glanced at Helmeppo, wondering how they should approach the situation.

“Hey, how about another trade? Your wolf looks like he needs a wash, right?” Helmeppo asks, glancing at their plush

Koby catches on quickly and looks at them with a smile.

“How about we wash him for you, and you let us look at your wound?”

“Y-you’ll keep him safe?”

“The safest,” Koby reassures with a smile.

“Okay”

“Hey, Mister Koby?”

“Yeah?”

“How..umm…how did you disappear before?” They question, looking away as he glanced up at them from his bandaging work

“Disappear?”

“Yeah, when I umm, when I threw a stone at you, you disappeared.”

“Oh, that? It’s a fighting technique; I didn’t disappear; I just moved really fast. It’s called Soru,” he explained with a grin, his attention back on the bandages being applied.

“I uh- I think it was really awesome.”

“Haha, It was nothing; many marines can do it; Helmeppo can do It too,” he brushed off.

“You’re being too modest, Koby,” Helmeppo sighed from his place at the sink, trying to wash the grime and blood off the stuffed toy.

“It’s going to have to soak for a while to make him all clean,” he called, drying his hands off and walking closer to the pair. Seeing the look on the child’s face, he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to them.

“Here, you can take care of our Den-den Mushi for now.”

“It looks different,” they muttered.

“What do you mean?” Koby asked as he clipped the bandage and stepped back

“It looked different in the ship; it was black and white.”

Koby and Helmeppo pause, glancing at each other at the kid’s comment

“Ship?” questioned Helmeppo

“Y-Yeah”

“What did you do at the ship?”

“T-they made me clean the ship, but sometimes they would make me fight o-others or test things for them.”

Those words were all the pair needed to grasp where the child might have come from and what their job at the ship could have been.

“Is that how you got that?” Helmeppo said, pointing to their now bandaged wound

They shook their head at that but made no move to explain themselves.

“Could you tell us about it?” Koby prompted

Once again, they received all but a shake of their head.

“Why?” questioned the blond marine, a frown on his face

“I don’t w-want them to hurt me.”

“They won’t,” Koby answered with a grin.

“We’ll protect you,” Helmeppo confirmed with a slight smile.

“Pinky promise?” they asked, holding out their pinkies.

The two let out a small laugh but nodded and interlocked their fingers with theirs, their pinkies enveloping the child’s much smaller ones.

After sealing the promise, Dokucha proceeded to tell them what had occurred. It seemed like the man who they worked under was dark and twisted, enjoying the creation of painful and deadly viruses and, even more, testing it on the child, letting them reach the verge of death before finally giving them the antidote.

Despite this treatment, it was this same man’s love for pitting his subordinates against each other in a deathmatch that caused them their current wound. As they had refused to hurt the other subordinates, they had found themselves being punished for insubordination by the man.

Koby and Helmeppo listened intently to the child’s story, horrified at the treatment they had endured, and drove the two to tears and sniffles as they embraced them and repeated their promise.

Dokucha’s lip trembled as they sat on Koby’s lap, Helmeppo sitting next to them, an older man sitting in front of them listening as his subordinates filled him on what had happened and why they had returned with a child.

“Wahahaha! Another one?!” he laughed, his booming laugh echoing around the small office

“What about you, you little brat? Do you want to be a marine? Or do you want to be a pirate and have me beat that out of you?”

“Uh, Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t thin-

“Eek! I- umm- ah-

“Spit it out!”

“Umm, I- I’m not very good at fighting, and I don’t like it either, but I want to be with Koby and Helmeppo!” They exclaimed, apologizing and returning to their timid state once they had realized their outburst

“Wahahaha! That’s a good answer, you squirt. I think I’m going to like you! In that case, you will train under them.”

“T-Train?! Vice-Admiral Garp, I don’t think we are ready to train someone.”

“Don’t worry, Koby! You and Helmeppo will turn them into a fine marine!” He exclaimed with a booming laugh

"How about it, kid?!”

“…” They stayed quiet, unaware of the sudden shift of attention, quiet with a strained smile on their trembling face, eyes blown wide at the interaction

“Uh, Dokucha?” Helmeppo asked, leaning closer to the kid, trying to get their attention

“He was asking you,” he explained

“Yes!”

Koby let out a laugh at their rushed answer as he, too, leaned toward them

“He asked if you would like to train with us, to be a marine.”

“I can be with Koby and Helmeppo?”

“Yes, you would stay with us.”

“I - I really would like that,” they answered bashfully

“Good, I‘ll come by from time to time to check on you and give you some private lessons,” he grinned, smashing his fist against his open palm

“No!!” They screamed as they hightailed it out of the office

“Ah, wait, Dokucha, come back!”

okay I really struggled with the Garp part and the timeskip leading up to him, so do let me know if you liked it. I really struggled him adding him so hopefully it checked the box of Garp and Grandbaby interaction 😂

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[charmedreincarnation]

Success story (not the void)

Maya, as I promised you, I'm writing you my success story. It's quite a wild one, so please bear with me.

My journey started during the Angel era, when I was struggling with the void state. I tried everything I could think of to get out of it - every method, every meditation technique, affirming, intention, lucid dreaming, and even coaching from various LoA experts, including those not so well-known. I was desperate for a breakthrough, a key to unlock the life I deserved. I would have done anything, even ate dirt if that was what it took.

At that time, my family was going through a rough patch. My abusive father, a police officer, divorced my mother and left us with nothing. We were homeless, living out of our car, while my dad was living a comfortable life. He had a new girlfriend, a younger woman, and continued to be respected in his job. Meanwhile, my mom, who was a victim of his abuse, was labeled a liar and lost everything. I was filled with rage, towards him, towards the world, towards the jury that declared him innocent. I wasn’t safe in this world especially being homeless, women and children are the most vulnerable to sexual and physical assault. I was scared, unsafe, and had nothing aside my mother and siblings.

I wanted to enter the void, not just for myself, but to give my family a better life and to bring justice to those who had wronged us. I was at a point where I was harming myself, but I couldn't give up because my family needed me. I remember messaging you, Maya, pouring out my story, begging you to help me enter the void. Despite your initial hesitation, you responded with kindness, sharing some personal experiences, and reassuring me that I wasn't alone.

Your words gave me hope. You made me realize that many people who find the law have gone through, or are still going through difficulties. If they could overcome their struggles, so could I.

So, I decided to let go of the void. Not because I didn't believe in it, but because I had elevated it to a status akin to a genie that would magically solve all my problems. When non-dualism and other loa concepts were introduced, everything finally clicked. I realized I didn't have to be angry, or try to be someone manifesting master, or do all these fake methods. I have always known that my family and I were meant to be happy.

For a month, I went through a process of shedding my ego. It was uncomfortable, and there were times I found myself fighting my own thoughts, telling them to shut up. I was separating my ego from myself. You, Maya, had once said that this process was similar to withdrawal symptoms of someone quitting drugs. This thought comforted me. I was becoming someone new, my old thoughts weren't there anymore.

Living in my car, I began to see it as my mansion. My mom's crying turned into laughter, my siblings' whine for food turned into jokes. We pretended that we were living our dream life, and after a while, my siblings joined me in this game. We would come "home" from school and yell at each other, pretending that the house was so big that we needed walkie-talkies to communicate.whenever I needed to steal food it was because we owned the place and can take whatever we want, not because I had to.

One day, we parked at a field, and I started imagining my life. I tried to become the clouds by thinking I am and accepting that my consciousness could be whatever it wanted. I got my siblings to do the same. We became the flowers, then the sun, then the stars at night. Even though physically I was still in the car, mentally and emotionally, I was living my dream life.

When I woke up, I was in a large room. It was decorated to perfection. I heard my siblings running around, throwing toys, and my mother laughing with a man, who's laugh alone sounded like gold. I explored the house, and it was beautiful. There was no yelling, no violence, only laughter and love. My mom introduced me to her boyfriend, and he was holding a newspaper that read that my father had been arrested for domestic crimes and fraud. He was losing everything.

At that moment, I realized that I had done it. My mom was happy, beautiful, and loved. My siblings had plenty of toys and clothes, and our house was filled with love. My family and I were finally living our dream life.

I have been living my life for about a month and now, and it has been blissful to say the least. I go to a well known private school and I am the top student. I am apart of many clubs, and also spend a lot of time volunteering at domestic shelters, and speaking to victims of intrapersonal abuse. I have made friends of people who volunteer with me, so it’s nice to have people who care about the same thing I do.

I am also apart of my writing club, and found comfort in reading and writing and have decided I want to be an author once I graduate. I have always wanted to be a writer but they don’t make enough money often. But now not only do I know I will be successful but my family has enough money to last us multiple generations plus some more. My Bio father had gotten much to what is coming to him and he will be going to jail. I hope he drops the soap but I have let go of my anger with that barbaric fool. So has my mother who has also recently gotten engaged and I get to be her maid of honor. She has a friend group of mothers from school and I have never seen her happier. My now father treats her like a goddess and treats everyone like that. He spoils my mom and us with gifts and luxurious trips. He also spoils the help such as the maids and cooks and never treats them below us. He does not expect anything from my mother except for her to be happy and spend time with us. He is kind selfless loving and respectful. the real definition of a man. I adore him so much and I’m so happy to call him my father.

I find great joy in the little stuff. I love cleaning my room. My bio dad was a hoarder and the house was always a mess because my mom was the sole provider though my “bio dad” made much more. He instead used it on hookers, alcohol, and drugs. Pathetic excuse for a man I know. I love going shopping, as I don’t have to look at the price tag. It feels normal, there was no shift. This is just life constantly changing. I have 5 pets and spend great time with all of them, and they are all so loving and adore me. I love school, and doing my homework, taking tests, assemblies etc. i love talking to my teacher about my ideas and how I can improve. They’re always so encouraging and kind, and I have never experienced that. I also loveeeee having crushes hehe. I never had time nor the “looks” for that prior to these past few months, but I receive a good amount of attention from a lot of sweet man and the “what if” aspect of having crushes is fun. I just love being a teenage girl, something I was not always able to say. I love the world and the people in it, the creations I bring and make, and all I did to make it what it is. I never worry what happened to my old self or life. It died, it doesn’t exist I am here right now with them and the old story is gone. Like an author erasing a part of a story she doesn’t like and never producing it, I did the same. My one true reality and I am so blessed.

Also big thanks to bloggers like @awarenessis @starbursts777 @consciousnessbaddie for introducing this concepts to Tumblr in a simple and kind way. Love to everyone in this devoted app.

Congratulations on your astounding success story 🥹 Your journey is a testament to the power of the human spirit, and it's an honor to hear about your transformation. This is beautiful wild tale, but it's your reality, and it's absolutely beautiful.

Your story is a powerful reminder that we have the power to shape our reality, no matter how dire our circumstances may be. It's a testament to the power of belief, determination, and the human spirit. I'm incredibly proud of you and wish you and your family all the happiness in the world.

[tarjapearce]

Now I’m curious of how wife!reader and Miguel meets again 😭 and how they started dating. Do they meet again at a different hosted party and Miguel asks her for a dance this time ((and her name 💀))

🤭🤭 Actually

Pt. 3

The whistling from the referee echoed through as the men on the field began playing. Jessica, once more, had kidnapped you after finding you were in a blue mood after you got ditched in a date.

"Never going through Tinder again." you had mumbled as she offered you tissues.

But of course, partially the reason why you had came was

1. Shirtless men playing

2. Jessica and another red headed woman and you, were in charge of the water and refreshing drinks.

You found out that Mary Jane Watson was her name, or MJ for shorts was dating Peter, the guy that had hosted the carneada. She was pretty easygoing. However, the familiar hulking figure running through the field stood out like a sore thumb.

"Hey" You name was called by Jessica that followed your eyes and smirked

"Oh, that's Miguel."

"I know. Met him at the party remember?"

"Heard he has a girlfriend. But doubt it. "

You shrugged.

"Okay? He just helped me out a little."

"Hmm."

A little disappointment settled in your chest.

In any case, your attention was snapped back to the field and the little ruckus on the field. Miguel was held by Peter and another man called Ben, as the rival player kept provoking him. Gabriel pulled him back.

"Oh, Drácula is pissed"

"You kidding? They're playing dirty." MJ spoke, concern plastered all over her face as Peter tried to calm the situation.

You watched from the water station, eyes following the ball, but they couldn't help but to land on Miguel. Shirt soaked in sweat, hair down, some strands sticking to his forehead, and neck, pouty mouth panting and cursing.

"Pasámela, pendejo!" (Pass it, you dumbass! )

A giggle escaped from you as he pinched his nose bridge with one hand. He moved but the crowd gasped. One minute he was walking away and the next he was on the floor, cursing and limping. His knee was scrapped and it bled. The good thing was that the guy that had injured him, got a red card.

"Do you happen to have any first aid kit by any chance?" Peter approached as Jess and MJ shook their heads.

"I think I have one in my car. I'll get it."

Peter smiled and went back to Miguel, mahogany eyes immediately following your form.

When you approached him, he had removed his shirt to dry the sweat off his forehead, to then slick his hair back. Eyes staring at you with a little smirk.

"Pitufina, eres tú?" (Smurfette is that you?)

"In the flesh, Gargamel."

You both chuckled as you sat before him, he was about to wipe the caked blood and dirt with his sweaty shirt. Your hand slapped his away

"¿Estás loco? Se te va a infectar!" (You're crazy? It'll get infected)

"It's just a scrap"

"Cállate. God, your girlfriend must be a saint to put up with you."

A swab of cotton was soaked in alcohol, he quirked an eyebrow at your words and chuckled.

"No tengo-" (I don't have-)

He hissed as your hand wiped the blood first. The chemical stung on his raw skin, but seeing you focused, a little furrow on your pretty face made the sting to slowly fade . You then grabbed a gauze and wiped gently the excess of fluid.

You looked up at him and pursed your lips

"So I can..."

"Sorry, Out of game for now." You laughed at his words and shook your head.

"Who said I wanted to?" He chuckled at yours

"No, I was meaning to do this without remorse." You sprayed him some antiseptic and he batted your hands away with a mild panic expression, as the initial burn was a bit too much.

"Hija de la chin-" (Son of a-)

You laughed. as he fanned the scrap

"Esa mierda arde!" (That shit burns!)

"Ay, no estés de llorón. It's just a scrap remember? " (Don't be a cry baby)

"Not fucking funny" He grumbled as you gave him a bottle of water and a towel. His fingers brushed against yours, the touch lingering for a bit longer than it should.

"For me it is. I'll put a gauze on it okay?

"Déjalo así" (Leave it like that)

"No. It's too fresh for you to keep it exposed"

He was about to bat yout hands away when you loomed the antiseptic spray directly on his wound. He stopped and frowned, a finger trying to threaten you.

"Cuidadito" (Careful)

"Haz caso entonces." (Do as you're told, then)

You just glared at eachother.

"Get a room already." Gabriel casually mumbled as he picked another bottle of water. The rest just looked your way with silent mirth. They had been watching cautiously the interaction between the two of you.

The comment instantly made you pout, a soft flush on your cheeks. Gabriel left.

"Ese pendejo..." (That dumbass)

He grumbled and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Anyways..." You sighed and applied some vaseline at the wound. Your hands were gentle, caring and soft.

"Pitufina"

You grumbled your name as you finished covering his wound.

"Right." He nodded with a tiny smile

Silence.

You were putting the things back in the kit. Eyes following your every motion, you were nervous. He smirked

"Wanna go... and get some food later? My treat"

He blinked at your sudden question. All smugness vanishing from him.

"After you've taken a shower and changed of course" You giggled and looked up at him.

His heart beat a bit faster and he gulped almost imperceptibly.

"Si quieres, claro" (If you want to, that is)

You smirked with a shrug. His mouth gaped softly

"¿Es un si? " (Is that a yes?)

He just nodded, still a little shaken from what just happened.

"Bueno, Adiós Drácula." (Well, see you)

You left after patting his thigh gently, His ears went a little pink.

He didn't see that coming at all. He smiled inwardly. Yeah, he'd better step his game up. He was rusted, but you'd definitely worth the shot.

[kit-williams]

The black rut

Thank you @thelostprimarch for infecting me with this idea as well as @yestheantichrist for helping more with this idea aka planting the idea of a poor guardsman

tw: NSFW; dubious at best; most likely noncon; female reader

You broke from the line or rather what remained of the line after the astartes ran in. Your unit was decimated so at times with how spread out you were it felt like you were alone with the astartes and that made you feel blessed but also terrified. Like this moment now as the other Blood Angel had told you to run when his brother started acting funny. You curled up into a ball covering your mouth with your scarf and your hands as you try to calm down... nothing in the primer told you how to deal with this.

Your hearts seized as you could hear the snarling... pretty green eyes had turned red as his helm was just a partial one... leaving his eyes and the top of his head exposed. Short chocolate locks that curled at the ends... you think his laugh was melodic... you don't think you've ever seen anyone so beautiful, living, dead, even in paintings... You curled in on yourself as you could hear him slowly get closer.

You didn't understand what was going on... understand how fortuitous for this brother angel that the rage had turned into a rut... you didn't know that his brothers had allowed him to chase you down to help clear his head. The snarling sounded so close you slowly peaked up and there was blessedly nothing there... no he rushed you down from your left. The scream never had a chance to leave your throat as nearly a ton of geneforged muscle and ceremite was upon you and you were doing your best to keep your limbs in tact.

Your armor crumpled like wet paper in his hands as he ripped it free. You feel something break, you think, as his hand wrenches your lazgun away. You feel yourself curl in on yourself as you whimper to the Emperor as your trousers are torn away. It doesn't even register to you what is going on till the thud from his codpiece hitting the dirt and the bulge in his body glove just grinding hard between your legs. You hiccup as those heavy tears roll down your cheeks you think about screaming but you see the glazed look in his eyes as he just grinds against you... you're so afraid to make him mad...

You close your eyes just trying to not trigger the suddenly monstrous space marine. The material of his body glove and the heat causes you to feel something... the shame of being turned on by this... you wince as you remember your crushed armor and now missing weapon... you doubt the commissar is going to believe this. Your so caught up in your thoughts you dont feel or see for that matter, given how your eyes are closed, him pull himself out of his body glove. His cock throbbing with the pulse of a twin heartbeat.

The pain is what makes you thrash and kick as he forces himself into you deeply. You can't stop the screaming and the crying as you try and of course fail to stop him from moving. He's thick, not the thickest you've had but it still hurts for a man his size to move that deep inside of you. Your hair is grabbed, when did you lose your helmet, and your forced to look him in his eyes. You're staring at an animal and you can't help but cry.

It feels far too quickly... both merciful and shamefully quick for you to hear the wet fapping noise of your cunt swallowing his cock. The weeping turning into panting from you as you close your eyes to not look at the intense gaze from him. But that doesn't help you for when you feel him cum in you something goes wrong and you feel your sense of balance goes away... am I dying?

You learn latter after waking up on the battle barge that he had knocked you out... but isn't this how your life had always been? Never having say in anything. He tried his best to soothe you when you were told what was going on... no one caring that he was the cause of your distress and you had to swallow the fear and just accept the gentle arms now holding you as for what anyone knew... you were dead and you now served the lords angels. How grand.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 20

Part 1 Part 19

Steve’s shirt is wet where Eddie’s face is pushed into it, and Will’s hand is clutching his arm tight enough to hurt. Steve wants to sink into it. But the door's still open, and Wayne’s shotgun is lost in the woods somewhere. He hopes the man won't be too mad.

"Okay, okay," Steve says, taking two shuffling steps forward. "Let go of me."

The arms encircling his waist drop him instantly. His own weight settles back into his heels at the same instant the vertigo hits. A small hand clutches his elbow, keeping him upright with a grunt of strain.

"Shit, Harrington, sorry," Eddie says, voice warbling. "What do you need? What do I do?"

"Just–" he closes his eyes, listing sideways. He's so tired. "The door, Eddie."

The door closes with a quiet creak, lock sliding home with a metallic snick!

It's a tissue paper door, Steve knows it's a tissue paper door, but his legs go out anyway, finally safe enough to drop. Eddie catches him, hands clutching hips as he practically drags him to the couch.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nods. His forehead lances with pain every time he grimaces, and his cheek throbs. The wound on his shoulder has definitely reopened, and something unpleasant had happened to his ribs when he'd fallen in the woods. But he’s fine.

Will interrupts the conversation by dumping the remains of the Munson's medicine cabinet on the coffee table.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"Shit, right," Eddie replies, rifling through the contents. It's slim pickings, but Eddie plucks up a few bandages and gets to work.

His mouth is a moue of concentration as he combs Steve's hair off his forehead and puts bandages across the entirety of the laceration before blessedly leaving it alone once he reaches the hairline.

Eddie's prodding the bruise on Steve's cheek hard enough to feel the bone, when Will asks, "My Mom?"

"She's fine, Byers." He tries to smile, but loses the will halfway through, closing his eyes.

Will bursts into tears. "Thank you," he says.

Steve flops his hand forward. Will takes it. Steve doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are until Will’s warmth starts leeching into him.

"Your Mom's a badass, baby Byers," Eddie says. "She was always going to be fine."

Steve hums his agreement, too tired to vocalize. There, sitting up on Eddie's ratty couch, covered in dirt and blood, Steve falls asleep with Eddie's palm cupping his cheek and Will’s hand in his.

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he awakens, Eddie's sitting with his back to the couch. His hair's plastered to his head with grease and grime, and he's starting to smell a little. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him.

"Eddie?" he asks.

Eddie turns to him, a finger to his lips as he gestures his head toward where Will's sleeping in the recliner across the room.

"Back with me, big boy?" Eddie whispers.

Steve nods. "Did you guys make it out okay?"

Eddie scoffs. "We were fine, man." His eyes well, a few tears running down his cheeks. He swipes them away impatiently. "We thought you were dead."

Steve feels small, his voice comes out even smaller. "I'm sorry."

Eddie turns back around, back pressing into the couch, eyes trained on the door. Steve reaches his fingers out, rubbing back and forth slowly, consolingly. "Thanks for coming back."

Steve's breath hitches. It wasn't a sure thing. The line between Steve coming back and Eddie finding Steve's body decomposing in the Byers' driveway was razor thin. He should know - it's painted along his forehead in claw marks, painted in the way his vision is still a little red with the blood that had dripped into his eyes.

"Anytime," Steve says. Does it count as a lie when he really wants to mean it?

"Good, because we're like, out of water, dude," Eddie laughs. "The kid's the only one smart enough not to forget his backpack.”

"Fuck!" Steve says, a little too loudly. Will stirs, then settles. "Not the quarry again."

Eddie laughs, but not like he thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, man. I’m with ya, but there’s the kid to think about now.”

They both look over at Will. His face is smushed into the back of the chair, knees curled up to his chest beneath the blanket Eddie must’ve given him, like even in sleep, he’s doing everything he can to make himself a smaller target. Something unfamiliar in Steve’s gut wrenches.

He doesn’t want to go back there, maybe ever, but especially not right now. Right now, the thought of crossing the threshold out into the wider world makes ants crawl under his skin.

The Demogorgon’s claws are still parting his skin like butter every time he moves wrong. They’d moved through him as easily as Steve’s Father’s knife had while he’d skinned the deer, Steve standing beside him as he tries his best not to cry.

Steve doesn’t want to be the deer. But the shotgun is gone, and so the hunter must become the hunted.

“I lost the gun,” Steve says.

Eddie’s shoulder slump, Steve’s hand falls, settling in the crack between the couch and the middle of his back, stuck there when Eddie leans back into it. “I figured,” he sighs, sounding disappointed, like maybe there’d still been a glimmer of hope that Steve had just snuffed out.

Silence descends. It feels like the force of gravity kicked up a notch, the way the quiet fogs over him and pushes him down down down. The silence drowns, let’s the Demogorgon prowl through his mind. Eddie Munson throws him a brick disguised as a life preserver.

“I saw your shoulder,” he says, barely audible.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks, turning around completely, back to the door. His eyes are wide. Steve can’t read his face at all.

“What’s there to do?”

Eddie sighs. “Nothing, maybe,” he says, spinning his rings on his fingers nervously. “I cleaned it up as best I could, but that’s bad, man. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Steve’s eyes flit over to where Will’s still sleeping, but Eddie’s eyes stay planted firmly on his face. He doesn’t answer, what’s there to say? There’s no way out of here.

“Let’s just get water so we can stay alive, just a little bit longer,” Eddie says when it becomes clear that Steve has nothing left to say.

Steve nods, asking, “should we bring the kid?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but Will beats him to it. “I’m not a kid,” he says, clearly still half a sleep with the way his words are slurring together. “I’m coming.”

“He’s right,” Eddie says. “I mean, not about the kid thing, he’s definitely an infant, but we can’t leave him unprotected.”

“Hey,” Will mumbles, burrowing into the chair further and falling back asleep, clearly reassured that he won’t be left behind.

“We can’t keep him safe,” Steve whispers.

Eddie reaches out, pats his knee. Steve misses the warmth when he pulls it back.

“We’ll do what we can.”

Steve doesn’t want to go back out there. They’re safe in here, hidden away. But he will. Because Eddie asked, and Will needs him. That’s more than he’s had in a while.

He hopes it’s enough.

Part 21

[peoplesgraves]

Yandere Beetlejuice X Reader X Yandere Lydia Headcanons

•Beetlejuice is so so stupid. He is old as dirt and is still just dumb as a rock, absolute clown baby. You might think it's mostly weaponozed incompetence, and he definetih wings you to think that but it is a ruse from a very dumb man.

•Chances are you like Beetlejuice/are nicer. more so than Lydia even if by a tiny margin so of course he clings to you as his 'favorite spouse' (yes it's true but also he wants to makes Lydia jealous which of course doesn't work.) he 100% expects to be babied by you and of course as a witness/participant to his mischief and schemes. Every time Lydia is mean to him he comes crying to you, he would never be mean to either of you but he will force everyone to head about it for the next 10 business days.

•Lydia is kinda borderline yandere. If she didn't have Beetlejuice around, juicin the place up then she would've had a normal relationship with you. She's still super lucid and feels bad about it and is very tame but she finds herself letting Beetlejuice run wild 'behind her back' more and more. Plus she likes comforting you after one of his rampages.

•So many coordinated outfits. Lydia doesn’t have the patience to do it for you guys but she does appreciate Beetlejuices, reverently picked outfit choices. Though maybe less so when he ‘forgets’ to give you pants.

•They probably throw balls mixed with a disco. Something goth and moody and then just a side room with a disco ball and rainbow lights. Can’t decide if they’d do it just for the three of you, for some strange humans or for other spirits but either way, Beetlejuice will be doing the cha cha slide and losing his head. Please laugh at him, he’s trying so hard!

•If you started to get really ornery and tried to leave them then I think Lydia would find a way to bind you to the town model. Beetlejuice would hate it because he remembers how it was but Lydia convinced him it’s fine because you’re not alone in there, you have them.

•You have to marry both of them. Lydia actually doesn’t carry about marriage and thinks it’s kind of a dumb construct but she refuses to just be your girlfriend while Beetlejuice gets to be your husband. Beetlejuice would marry both of you but ya know…just know Beetlejuice will lie, scheme and haunt to marry you so hopefully you have enough wedding plans for two!

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 7

Hey, guys, I think the not labeling this has got it to see more people and that is fucking depressing as shit. So I will warn in the notes and tags but won't be putting community labels on going forward.

In this we have Wayne come into town and hit off with Steve, things get serious, and Steve explains why Robin and he left their last job.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

Getting Wayne settled into the spare bedroom was like taking a shower after working hard all day. When that first splash hit, it was painful but as you got used to the temperature your body would relax and all the dirt and stress would just melt away.

Eddie hated that he had to have his uncle come down at all, but he needed the help and Wayne had run that club for twenty years before giving it to Eddie. He would know what to do.

“You want to come and meet Robin and Steve?” Eddie asked, shyly hiding his face behind his hair.

Wayne paused from where he was putting away his clothes in the drawer.

“Could do I suppose. You talk more about the girl then you do the boy, and I have a pretty good guess as to why.”

Eddie blushed dark red. “I am but a horny man and yet, despite my job being about selling sex I have not gotten laid in awhile. So I am very weak and he is very pretty.”

Wayne snorted and rolled his eyes. He went back to unpacking his things. “I can stay for as long as you need me, Ed. Doris is fine to look after my plants, I’m retired, I don’t need to go rushing off nowhere.”

Eddie sat down hard on the bed and put his hands in his lap. “I don’t know if I’m built for owning a club. I’m burning the candle at both ends and there are times the only reason I know the day of the is by the fucking color theme when I walk in.”

Wayne sat down on the bed next to him and pulled him in for a hug. Eddie let out a shuddering breath and then suddenly he was crying. He didn’t know where all this was coming from. He thought he had a handle on the club. On his dancers. But he felt like he was falling apart at the seams.

“You’re just tired, son,” Wayne murmured. “But that’s why I’m here. This is partly my fault. I should have eased you into it, given you a couple of years of running it with me as your second then you wouldn’t be in this position. But I’m here now.”

Eddie wanted to refute that claim, but the more he sat there and stewed in that thought, the more it made sense. He nodded.

They sat like that for a moment. Eddie just soaking up the attention and support that he only ever got from Wayne.

He raised his head and wiped his eyes. “Thanks. I think you’ll really like the new show.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “You really need a social life.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said with a grin. “Is that what Doris is? A social life?”

Wayne pushed him off the bed and Eddie landed on the floor with a thump and a startled laugh. “Don’t put out if you can’t take it, old man.”

“Shut your pie hole,” Wayne groused. He stood up and held out his hand to him. “Let’s go meet this pretty boy of yours.”

~

When Wayne walked into the club, he was impressed on how clean it was. He knew Eddie hired people to clean up, break down, and setup for the next day. But it was clearly worth the effort.

The club was made up in a dark sea of blues. But it wasn’t silky, everything was soft and well... lazy. Perfect for Sloth. Up on the stage the dancers were practicing their numbers. They were all dressed up in various stages of warm up gear. Shorts, tank tops, leotards, tights, some barefoot, others with the balls of their feet tapped, others still in soft soled shoes. No point in wearing heels and twisting something they shouldn’t.

They were currently practicing one the burlesque numbers that they did for the dinner crowd, but it didn’t take a genius or even someone who knew the rest of the dancers to know which one was Steve.

He was the one that lit up like a fucking Christmas tree the moment Eddie walked in and called out his nephew’s name like it was a god damned prayer.

“Hey, Stevie!” Eddie cried back and Wayne refrained from shaking his head fondly. He didn’t know who Ed thought he was fooling, but he was close to head over hills with this boy.

Steve jumped off the stage and came bounding up to the two of them. “Who’s this handsome devil? I’m Steve.”

“I like this one.” Wayne grinned shaking Steve’s hand.

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. “This is the OG devil. My Uncle Wayne.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Steve said with his megawatt smile, “but the Kitty Cat Titty Club was a horrible name! “

Wayne threw his head back and laughed. “I thought it sound great right up until I had to put it on business cards. It didn’t sound so great after that.”

Eddie went starry-eyed at Wayne and Steve getting along so well so fast. Pretty soon the only thing standing in the way of him just bending the dancer over his desk and fucking him will be his own god damned stupid rule.

God, kill him now.

But, alas there was no lightning strike and they were being surrounded by the other dancers greeting Wayne and welcoming him back.

“You coming back for good?” Stella asked Wayne, giving Steve the side eye.

Eddie and Steve immediately bristled at the implication that Eddie couldn’t hack it. Eddie was just a little burned out and needed help, not to be replaced.

“Stella Mubarak,” Wayne greeted with a warm smile. “It’s been awhile. We’ll talk later over coffee, but everyone needs to know this right off the bat. I’m here as Eddie’s guest. I’m not here to look at the books, or change dancers, or any of that other nonsense. I’m just here for a couple of weeks because I haven’t seen much of Eddie and since he’s the one running this place, I came to him. The only changes I intend to make is my underwear.”

Steve and Eddie glanced at each other and hid a smirk.That was certainly one way to put any rumors to bed.

“All right, guys!” Eddie called out, “Enough with mugging my uncle. Give him time to breath for fuck sake. He just got into town and will be staying awhile. You can visit with him on your days off. In fact I know he’d like that. But shoo, back to doing what you do best and that’s looking pretty.”

Wayne chuckled as he watched Steve blush at the compliment even though it was directed at everyone.

They all wandered back to the stage, Steve lingering for a moment longer before following suit. Eddie led the way to the office and flopped down at his desk. He tilted head back and sighed dramatically.

Wayne sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “When you said there was drama, I was thinking the usual backstabbing and jealously that comes from being a dancer. But Stella asking me outright if I was gonna replace you right in front of the whole fucking troupe was ridiculous. The absolute balls on that one.”

Eddie raised his head and looked him in the eye. “She thinks that Steve changing the show a little is the end of times and won’t accept change. She was also one of the more vocal members telling me I shouldn’t have fired Billy. Which I really fucking should have a hell of a lot sooner.”

Wayne hummed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Billy’s always been something a dark horse even when I ran the show, but I always thought it was bravado and not actual malice. I hate to say that I was that wrong about a person.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “I don’t want to fire Stella too, but I think things are going to get worse before they get better.”

“Always a possibility, unfortunately.”

Eddie got up and went to the filing cabinets. He pulled out two files and handed them to Wayne. “I know you’re not here for this, but look at the numbers from when Billy was in his heyday and the last two weeks with Steve.”

Wayne took them from him pulling out the spreadsheet from a couple of years ago first. The numbers were good, and pretty even across the board. Then he pulled out the spreadsheet for the current month. Steve’s numbers were at least thirty percent higher.

“That’s impressive,” Wayne said with raised eyebrows. “I know he’s only in his first couple of weeks and could dip a little, but I doubt it would be much considering the sheer charisma coming off of him in waves.”

Eddie nodded sitting on the corner of the desk. “He’s an even better dancer. Holy fuck, Uncle Wayne, when I first saw him dance I could feel the emotion radiating off him.”

“Sounds like Stella is jealous at the sudden attention he’s getting,” Wayne said thoughtfully. “I would normally say to just wait it out and see what happens when the dust settles, but–”

There was a large crash and suddenly Eddie and Wayne were on their feet, dashing out the door back to the front of the club.

When they arrived they saw that Steve was at the base of the stage, looking like he’d fallen off of it.

Eddie rushed to his side. “What the hell happened?”

Steve looked at him and then back at the stage. He just shook his head. Snitches got stitches apparently. And hooboy was Eddie pissed. Steve may have not had any desire to rat the person out, but Eddie was going to show his wrath.

He stood up slowly. “Wayne, go check the security recordings.” He raised his head slowly. “And if he finds that anyone pushed him off, will not only be fired, but I will make sure to press charges of assault.

Steve closed his eyes and laid back on the floor with a groan. Eddie looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.

Steve indicated to the office with a jerk of his head. Eddie nodded.

“Hey, Jeff,” he said, “can you get some ice for Stevie here? I’m going to take him to my office to make sure he’s okay.”

“On it!” Jeff replied heading for the kitchen.

Eddie helped Steve to his feet and whispered, “Limp, make a show of it.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, but without so much as a nod to acknowledge what had been said, suddenly Eddie was carrying most of Steve’s weight. His head lulled to the side and he had the most pained expression on his face.

If he hadn’t seen the change in demeanor himself, he would have been really concerned.

They made it to the office and the change in Steve was instantaneous. He straightened up and closed the door quickly behind them.

“All right,” Eddie huffed. “What’s going on? Because the usual reaction to being told that being assaulted was going to be reported to the cops certainly isn’t frustration.”

Steve sat in the same chair that Wayne had just vacated with a flump. “This can’t go any further than this because it’s an active court case and letting you know only stretches the law, not break it.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to repeat that?”

Steve buried his head in hands for a moment and then slowly raised his head. This Steve looked worn down and defeated. Something Eddie didn’t know how to deal with. The man was usually bright and sunny.

“When I talked to Robin about coming out to the dancers she didn’t want to,” Steve began. “And if Chrissy wasn’t gay and you weren’t bisexual, she wouldn’t have done. Probably would have convinced me not to as well, Chrissy’s comfort be damned.”

“That’s pretty harsh.”

It also didn’t sound like the Robin he had known these past couple of weeks either. The girl was empathetic to the nth degree.

Steve picked at his nails for a moment before spoke again. “You know I worked as a pole dancing instructor for the rec center, did you know Robin was a cleaner there?”

Eddie nodded. He did all the hiring for the club, not just the dancers.

“Her manager was a real piece of work,” Steve said softly. “Racist, misogynistic, and worse; homophobic. He was really bad.”

“So why hadn’t he had been fired?” Eddie asked tilting his head to the side.

“We didn’t know then,” Steve explained, “but we found out after that his uncle was the man who provided the funds for the center to be built. His uncle’s name was on the god damned building.”

Good ole fashion nepotism was the absolute worst. He said as if he didn’t get where he was because his uncle was the previous owner.

“So what happened?”

“He over heard her talking about a hot actress she liked.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly. “Oh shit.”

Steve nodded. “There was no doubt it wasn’t just admiration. He cornered her a storage closet about a week later and started beating her,” he muttered. “If I hadn’t been running late to my class I wouldn’t have her heard her. I managed to pull him off of her and called cops.”

“Did he...” Eddie trailed off. The normal reaction from these types wasn’t just abuse.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know if I got there before he started or if he just meant to beat her, but no... Thank god!”

Eddie huffed out a sigh of relief.

“Then what happened?” he asked.

“He got arrested,” Steve said darkly, “and we got fired. Her for being gay, though they never said that out loud, and me because I called the cops.”

And then it hit him.

“That’s why the two of needed your days off to align!” Eddie cried. “Shit man, if you had said something I could have made arrangements, especially since it wouldn’t have been a permanent change. “

Steve smile softly. “She didn’t want anyone to know.”

“That’s fair.”

Wayne slipped into the room with Jeff behind him with an ice pack. Jeff handed it to Steve who immediately put it on his elbow.

“I looked at the recordings,” Wayne said. “But there were too many people around Steve to see who pushed him.”

“Shit.”

~

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

[aliceinborderlandscrolls]

Dream Of Me

Chishiya Shuntarō x reader

Your last night in the Borderlands

Fluff / Angst

“Have you seen Chishiya?” I heard Kuina ask.

My eyes lit up as I slid in beside her, all of us crouched down and hiding behind cars.

“Shuntarō? You’ve seen him?” I asked as my eyes began to quickly look at my surroundings, “Where?”

“A couple blocks that way.” Arise admitted, but began to panick as I stood up, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go find him.” I stated, but before I could run off Usagi grabbed my arm.

“We need you here to help take down the King of Spades.” She spoke calmly.

“But…” I trailed off.

My eyes held worry for the man that has always been within arms reach since the start of the games. I couldn’t help the knowing anxiety that has flooded my chest since we got separated by the very King of Spades who means to end my life now.

I shook my head, “Chishi could be hurt. I’m not going to lose him to this stupid game-” I stated as began to move.

“He’s fine!” Arisu assured me, his voice sharp and panicked, “He’s safer where he is than here with us.”

I felt torn as too much turmoil struggled inside me.

“We need you.” An said seriously.

After a moment of heavy debate, I relented my mission with a sigh. I knelt to the ground, keeping a look out for any chance of the King of Spades seeing us.

“If you say he’s alright Arisu then… What do I need to do?” I asked.

“We need to draw him away from the other players.” An suggested.

“Alright.” I nodded, “Fine, but as soon as we beat this guy, I’m going to go find Shuntarō.”

“Ah, to be young and in love.” Kuina teased.

I gave her a look, “You’re younger than me?”

“Only by two months.” She muttered.

I raised my eyes before returning my attention back to our friend, “Let’s do this.”

…

I couldn’t feel the concrete underneath my body as I coughed up dirt and blood. My mind felt fuzzy and my breath labored as I listened to the King of Spades chase after Arisu.

I hope he will be alright.

I knew I needed to get a hold of myself and fast. I was loosing too much blood from the two bullet wounds I bore in my stomach. Not to mention the few cracked ribs I received from the ruthless beating. At least I was able to break a few of his fingers… I humored myself with the thought.

I wiggled my own fingers to see if I would be able to get up and felt relieve in the small movement.

I grunted in pain as I slowly sat up. I lifted my arms to take off my torn shirt and use it as a gauge to wrap around my stomach. Once I felt it was secured enough, I grabbed on to a railing beside me and heaved myself up with a frustrated cry.

The sound of my name stopped me from taking anymore steps out of this cursed alleyway.

“Kuina… An.” I breathed out, “Are you alright?”

“Could be better.” An hummed.

“I agree, this hurts like a bitch.” Kuina grunted in pain the moment she laughed.

Worry flashed over my face at the two, “What can I do?”

An shook her head, “There is nothing you can do.”

The sound of the blimp exploding shoved us signaled that Arisu had won and the King of Spades was no more.

An continued, “Only Arisu can save us now. Soon this hell will be over…”

“I need to…” My face trailed off as I gripped the railing, a new found urge to get to Chishiya taking over my heart.

“I know.” Kuina smiled, “Say hi to him for me.”

I nodded with a small smile before beginning my journey in the direction Arisu had pointed towards earlier. I could only hope that he was still somewhere over there… I wasn’t exactly sure on how much time I had left.

It was night by the time I reached a large opening filled with multiple abandoned cars. The blood from my wound was beginning to seep through my shirt from the exertion. I was worried that it wasn’t a clean shot through and that the bullet could still my inside. It sure felt like it was.

“Shunta?” I called out his name again, it coming out as a cry as I struggled to keep myself standing.

I was beginning to lose faith from the thought of never see him again. Never hear his condescending gravely voice or his beautiful patronizing eyes. Would never be able to see his intelligent mind work or the way he would look like a cute chipmunk when he ate. Or feel his lips against mine that he poured every ounce of feelings and love he had for me.

“Please…” I tried to wipe the tears from my eyes to no avail.

I was beginning to lose hope… Until…

“Over here.” He said and it was then that I saw his outline.

He was on the ground, leaning against a car and it was when I stumbled closer that I could make out dark patches in his jacket. He held his side protectively, but his face looked as calm as a clear sky.

“Oh Chishi.” I cried out, stumbling to the ground beside him.

My hands shook over his wounds, unable to do anything as I gazed teary eyed at him, “What happened?”

“Niragi.” He lightly shrugged, “My conscience decided to get the best of me today I suppose.” He gestured to my lack of clothing, “Though I didn’t realize you’d have your shirt off.”

I shook my head with a short laugh, wincing at the pain as I fell into him, careful not to touch his side. My head fell onto his uninjured shoulder as I allowed myself to cry.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” I spoke as well, “I wish I would’ve jumped out of that car that day.”

“You would have been killed, easily.” Chishiya spoke simply.

I scoffed at the blunt honesty, immediately regretted it afterwards as I held onto my side.

Chishiya ignored me. “I need to check your wound.”

“My fate is up to Arisu and winning against the Queen of Hearts.” I stated, “What happened to Niragi then? Did he…”

“Still hear.” I heard his voice a little bit away.

“If I was able to get up right now, I would-”

“You’d kill me. I know.” Niragi’s voice was sarcastic and I swear I could see his eyes roll.

Chishiya brought my attention back to him, “I need to remove your shirt.”

“This isn’t the time for that.” I tried to joke, but I could see the glare in his eyes, “It’s nothing, really.”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing, I can tell it’s a bullet wound from the blood seeping through your poorly wrapped excuse of a bandage.” Chishiya sat up a bit with a grunt, “At least you made it this without dying. Means that the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”

“Such kind words for a dying person.” I rolled my eyes.

Chishiya only raised his eyebrow, “Do you want to know if the bullet is still lodged in there or do you want to die?”

After a pause he did something I never thought he would do…

“Please.” Chishiya pleaded, something very unlike him.

I saw the worry held in his eyes a relented with a soft nod, “Okay.” I turned away, my face hearing up as his fingers gently grazed my skin.

He gently untied my shirt and peered closely to see an exit wound, “You’ll live.”

“Thanks doctor.” I muttered.

I could hear him grunt as he tore a piece of his shirt off and properly bandaged my wound.

“I’m… Glad that you didn’t… That I got to see you one last time.” He spoke softly.

Tears filled my eyes, “Me too Chishi…”

I leaned back against him, taking in the cool night air.

“Do you think he’ll do it?” I wondered.

“It’s Arisu.” Chishiya stated plainly.

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, “I don’t mind dying like this…”

Chishiya didn’t say a word opting to secure his arm around my side. Minutes seemed to turn into an hour. My eyelids felt heavy as I began to doze off.

A gentle nudge prompted me awake, “Seems like he had it in him.” Chishiya said as a voice echoed above us.

“Choose to remain here as a citizen or leave the game.”

“What will it be?” Chishiya asked as if the answer of our fates belonged to me.

I already knew my answer, I just hope that we would still be together regardless of the outcome.

“I… I would like to leave.” I admitted.

“Then it would seem that I would like to leave as well.” Chishiya gave his final answer.

My grip tightened around his jacket and I couldn’t stop the overwhelming flow of tears, sorrow, and relief.

His hand brushed gently over my side, “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t…” I sobbed, “What if we forget about this place? I don’t want to forget you. Please tell me we won’t forget each other.” My words were grasping on pleading as I clutched onto him.

“I can’t tell you that.” Chishiya answered truthfully causing my heart to break.

I buried my face further into his neck and cried.

“I can tell you this.” He said and my ears picked up on the sound of his calm voice, “Nothing will keep me from finding you.”

“Promise?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“On Niragi’s life.” Chishiya chuckled, earning a scoff from afar.

Seemed Niragi was still alive as he spoke his wish of wanting to leave.

“Chishi…” I whined.

“I promise.” He stated truthfully.

I say up so I could look him in the eyes as I said, “Then all I ask of you until then is to dream of me.”

He nodded as our foreheads touched. His lips softly brushed against mine before my eyelids began to grow heavy once more.

“See you soon my heart.” Chishiya whispered.

…

Chishiya opened his eyes being faced with a bright light. Everything felt soar and numb all the same. He released a sigh before looking around the hospital room. His roommate for the next couple weeks had been sleeping and so he rang for a nurse to fill him in on his condition.

It wasn’t too long before he heard rustling beside him. Chishiya glanced over to his roommate without the faintest recognization.

“Why are you staring? Do you want something from me?” The stranger asked.

“Apparently, your heart stopped too.” Chishiya stated.

He stared up at the ceiling as he asked, “How the hell do you know that?”

“It seemed to have happened to me as well.” Chishiya answered.

He chuckled, “What a fucking coincidence.” The burned man glanced at his roommate, “I’m Niragi.” He introduced himself.

“Chishiya.” He returned.

It was silent for a minute before Chishiya spoke again.

“Since… you almost died Niragi.” Chishiya tilted his head towards him, “Do you feel like something has changed to you?”

“I’m not entirely sure… I guess I looked a lot flashier before the incident.” Niragi mused, “How about you? Do you feel different?”

“I have wasted my life until this moment. From now on I think I will live a more useful life.” Chishiya hummed.

Niragi took a breath, “You were a good for nothing jerk too then, huh?”

Chishiya stared at the wall ahead of him, “Yeah.”

“You also mutter in your sleep.” Niragi continued, “I couldn’t make out anything except the word, promise.”

“It’s strange, I don’t remember what the dream was about.” Chishiya answered his brows furrowed slightly, “But it felt important.”

[lesinquietes]

Bandit!All Smite is a hulking, muscular man. His biceps are the size of a human skull, and his physical force in combat is spoken of vastly across the land — he is wanted for murder, after all. Hearsay dictates that thick blonde tresses remain slicked back on his head at all times. He bears a sly grin that seldom falters. He can be identified from miles away, yet he’s confident he’ll never be caught. Factually, there isn’t a jailhouse in the country that can secure him. He’s been running rampant for decades.

When he isn’t spending time dodging the authorities he has a favourite bar. He doesn’t go there too often, but he steps in whenever he can. It’s a rundown little shithole, offering drinks that taste like piss and girls with smeared makeup. But it has something he’s had his evil eyes on for a while, now: a woman like you. He’s been lonely; to alleviate that ache, he’s willing to sacrifice a bit of hard earned cash and dignity.

You’re a harlot. He doesn’t know what circumstances brought this sorry life upon you, though it’s evident you’ve grown used to your profession. You do your work with a simper. Your pimp — the grimy bar owner — calls you and the rest of his flock ladies of the night. There are a host of rooms upstairs that customers can rent, provided they buy one of his fallen angels for the evening. Bandit!All Smite is happy to choose you every single time. The precise moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he was going to get hooked.

It’s good to see you, my beautiful girl… come here.

You’re incredibly obedient. He asks you to take everything slow. When you open your mouth wide, to pop the shell of his cock past your glossy lips, you do so at a gradual pace. It makes him harder when he finally feels your soft tongue against his shaft, hugging him with a passion that’s rooted in financial gain. He tips extra if you cause him to bust a nut more than three times in a night. You don’t fail to earn your dollars.

For months, he keeps biweekly contact with you. Nothing much changes, save for the pining in his chest when you’re absent. It’s strange; you’re nothing more than a whore, and still, he finds himself wanting you all to himself. He denies his attachment. He denies, and denies, and denies; until finally, his possessiveness is exemplified when he enters your establishment and asks for you. Your pimp says you’re entertaining another man. Worse yet, it’s the fucking sheriff. He laughs humorlessly.

You’ll be lucky if I don’t shoot you, too.

He kicks in the door of your bedroom and catches you, about to strip for the bastard waiting on your soiled mattress. Your bra is already in a mess at your heeled feet. The villain grits his teeth, ruled by a vicious form of jealousy. He doesn’t waste a second. He draws his pistol and shoots. The bullet makes contact with the officer’s forehead, puncturing through his brain. Blood covers your face and torso. A scream rips from your throat, as he yanks you into his grasp and flings you over his shoulder. You’re kicking and crying and cursing at him to let you go. He snickers in retort. You’re adorable when you’re upset. He’ll let your tantrum run its course for the time being. He knows how uncomfortable it is to be filthy with blood. He’ll ensure he gets you back to his hideout so you can shower, pronto.

Shhh… quiet down, sweetheart.

The other girls — your former colleagues — scurry around and stumble out of his path. No one tries to stop him from leaving the bar. Your pimp cowers in horror behind the counter, peeping over the taps to get a glimpse of the villain making off with one of his money makers. You were the hidden treasure of this cesspool of dirt. Bandit!All Smite is glad he found you before someone else could taint you.

He pats your bare ass as he carries you towards his horse. All you’re wearing is a skimpy bra and thong. He mounts the steed with some effort, keeping your exhausted figure secure. With a devious smirk, he shifts your panties to the side and dips two of his meaty fingers into your damp hole. You gasp and wriggle, complaining about his intrusion. Ah, pretending you’re scared of him when you’re truly wet and aroused — that’s a silly game he won’t tolerate from a grown woman.

He keeps his digits screwed inside you as he embarks on the lengthy excursion to his hideout. Every jerk and bump of the horse causes his fingers to rub and caress parts of you that make your cunt pulse. Your eyes roll back. This probably has something to do with that aphrodisiac your pimp slipped into your water this morning, in prep for a busy day of clients. He only told you afterwards, when you had no say in the matter; now, his exploitation is coming to back bite you. Regardless of the source of your arousal, it makes Bandit!All Smite pleased with the image of slamming you down on his bed and claiming you once and for all. His grin — dark and sinister in the twisted throes of his lust — noticeably widens.

Next l

𝔉𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲

[simpstantruther]

Hungry Heart ch. 2 | (Mullet) Stanley Pines x Reader

Summary: Stan needs to go to Oregon. You need to get to California. Stan has a car. You have a cunt. (Can I make it any more obvious~)

(TW: Dated Language and ideas of sex and consent)

Tags: 80s Americana Roadtrip Partners-in-Crime Stan x Reader fic. Smut. You can fix him, but you're worse.

Preview:

Lee watches you with amusement over his coffee. He looks different when he’s well lit. Older. More worn. Especially with his hair slicked out of his face, so you can see how deep the bags under his eyes are. You prefer it messy.

He's a good time. Funny, but stupid. You didn’t know it was possible to fit a sausage link up one’s nose. It shouldn’t be, it was fucking gross. You stick your tongue out in playful disgust when he eats it anyways. He laughs like a boy.

Read on AO3.

The street light buzzing is so loud you can’t hear yourself think.

You can feel it between your shoulder blades, tense as the dry night air hits the sweat pooling down your back. The light casts a dark shadow beneath your feet as you stroll through the middle of the street trying to keep your feet on the faded yellow divider lines. You don’t. 

You’re still in Dallas. You think. 

You had a bed to sleep in tonight. Or maybe a couch, with the guy passed out across the covers like he did. You had already cleared out his pockets, peeked through a few drawers. 

You found a tiny gun. Fit right in the palm of your hand. Like it was left in that drawer just for you.

Then the poor fucker’s wife came home. 

When you heard the shotgun cock into place, you started running and didn’t stop, pockets considerably heavier. In the chaos, you forgot you nabbed the gun.

You’re glad you nabbed the gun. 

Now you don’t know where you are. As if you ever really knew anymore. Back streets like this all kind of blended together, no matter where in the U.S. you were dragging your sorry ass around. 

Empty dirt lot with a single bench, a sun shade and a bus stop to the left. Shit-hole liquor store, piss stained parking lot to the right. Food. Shelter. Pisser.  All one could ever need.

If only you had actual cash instead of valuables you needed to pawn.

You have a small gun now.

Stupid looking little revolver. Three in the chamber. Poor fucker couldn’t be assed to fill the thing? No wonder his wife wanted to kill him.

Your stomach growls. It wants to kill you.

Do you have it in you to stick up a place just to get something to eat?

You stop. 

Under the brilliant neon Open sign of the liquor store, in bright yellow, peeled-paint glory stands a pay phone. Handset intact. You suppress a cry of joy. You would fall to your knees in praise if you didn’t think you’d catch a disease on the rusted bolts holding it to the cracked concrete. One of the bolts is loose. It wants to leave too.

You feel in the change slot for a spare quarter, sticking your tongue out through the side of your mouth. Your fingertips brush against the ridged edge.

Holy shit.

If you’re not careful, you’ll use all your luck up in one night.

The miraculous quarter slips into the slot. You wait for the dial tone to buzz into your ear, white-knuckle-gripping the handset. 

Shit.

Who the fuck are you supposed to call in Dallas? A taxi? They don’t take gold chains. A shelter? They’re all closed. Did you want to get robbed?

You still couldn’t get to one even if you wanted to.

You hit the return button. Clink. At least you can pocket the quarter. 

As you slip it into your rear pocket, you feel the fuzzy, frayed edge of a business card. Why would you keep a business—

The Loveshack it says.

Why did you have a business card for The Loveshack? What even is The Loveshack?

You don’t know what possesses you, but you sniff the card. It smells unholy. Like beer, and sweat, and man-stink and— you need to sniff it again.

Why are you thinking of a mullet? 

It smells so familiar. Why does it smell familiar? And you feel like gagging, you hate tequila. 

Oh.

You slip the coin into the slot again, bouncing your heel as you wait for the other line to pick up.

“Front desk.” Crackles through the shitty speaker in the handset.

“Hi! G-Good evening—” Your old hostess voice possesses you. High and clipped and waiting to be reprimanded. An old reflex. You haven’t had a regular job in at least a year. You remember no greasy, stinking manager is breathing down your neck to sound pretty when you pick up the phone, so it returns to it’s deep natural state. 

“Hello?” The voice on the speaker croaks again.

“Patch me through to a room, please?”

“Which room?”

Shit. Which fucking room? You turn the card over. Nothing written anywhere. You don’t even remember the guy’s name. Maybe he didn’t know how to write. Honestly, all you remember is Bruce Springsteen and a mullet and thinking that his beefy hands might fit nice around your—

“Hello? Miss? Which room?”

“Uhhhh— don’t remember. He’s a guy, you know?” Of course they know, are you stupid? “Tall, big shoulders, shitty mullet—“ You motion to the top of your head as if the operator can see you.

“Patching you through.” 

The line goes quiet. You’re too anxious to bounce your heel anymore so you stand frozen, hunched over the pay phone box.

You hear heavy breathing on the line. Then a woman’s name, in a vaguely familiar, gruff Jersey accent.

“Who?” You question, confused.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” 

Oh. You gave him a fake name, you remember.

“It’s Lee.”

“I know! Lee!” You draw out his name overly-affectionately. “How the hell are ya?”

“You called.” 

“I did!” 

“...I didn’t think you would call.”

“I said I would call, didn’t I?” You shrug your shoulders, tucking the phone beneath your chin and leaning back against the phone box. 

You hear him scoff. “I don’t think you did.”

He’s probably right, it doesn’t sound like you to promise something like that.

“ 'S fine. I wanted you to call. I’m glad you did.”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s quiet on the line too, drowned out by the white noise. The plastic static of the handset against your ear makes you shiver even though it’s pushing 85.

“Look, Lee… I’m sorry to call you like this, but I’m in a bit of a bad way—“

“What’s wrong?” He asks quickly. His concern is cute. He doesn’t know you. If he knew you he’d know something’s always wrong. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You aren’t. There’s a pit growing in your stomach because you remember the last time you said those words to a semi-concerned party over the phone. About a year ago. You weren’t fine then, either. “You don’t have a car by chance, do ya? Or maybe just cab fare?”

“Where are you?” 

“Uh—“ You look around. The sign on the liquor store is missing letters. It's in a language you don't recognize. You aren't as worldly as you think.

“I got wheels. I’ll pick you up right now, sweetheart. Where are you?”

You silently cheer. You crane your neck and narrow your eyes to read a street sign, murmuring it into the receiver. You cross your fingers, bite your lip raw, and pray he heard you right. You can barely understand him through the crackling line.

“Give me twenty minutes, toots. An hour, tops. Don’t go nowhere.”

“I’ll be here!” You have nowhere else to go.

The line goes dead.

The hook is broken. You leave the handset on top of the box, swallow back your false cheerfulness and sit on the curb.

The street light buzzes above you, a spotlight on your failed state. You cannot hear yourself think. You are grateful.

You don’t have a watch. Giant, tacky bracelets hide your wrists well enough. So who knows how long it’s been once cars start pulling over and hollering at you to hop in. 

Cutting your jeans into daisy dukes seemed like a good idea once you got south of Memphis and the nights regularly cracked 90. It felt less so now, while rough concrete and gravel dug into your seat, sticking to your skin from sweat. 

You ready an empty glass bottle, aiming to launch it at the dark red convertible that slows beside you next.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Watch where you throw that thing. Can’t afford to replace the window again.”

You stand up so you can see past the half-rolled window.

“Lee?” You peer inside. 

It is Lee. He greets you with a wide smile, sliding out his door and moving in to hug you until he sees you flinch back. He blinks and freezes before nodding his head to himself and crossing behind the car. 

“After you, Angelface.” He cracks open the passenger door for you.

“What a gentleman.” You wheedle for him, grateful for the cushioned seat. You keep your eyes on him as he slams your door shut and gets back inside. A bit of caution was healthy. You shouldn’t trust him. He definitely shouldn’t trust you.

The front seat is clean. Vaguely. There’s a couple full trash bags sitting in the back seat. And a few beat up boxes of some bright blue towel thing, dye seeping everywhere it touches, and other assorted brand new junk headed straight for a landfill. It was like he raided the world’s shittiest truck load of useless crap. Why was he lugging around all this stuff?

It still reeks like cheap cigarettes. But at least it didn’t smell like tequila. You crack open your window anyways. 

“Where to?” Lee asks, smiling nervously as he shifts the car into gear, hand staying on the shifter knob between you. 

God, his arms. He’s punishing the thread around the sleeves, rolling them up like that. He put on a clean shirt for the occasion. And gas-station cologne. How sweet.

He shaved, too. You’re a little disappointed, though his jaw is nothing to be ashamed of. You wanna run your hand over his skin, mourn his five o’clock shadow. For the love of god, the man has dimples. Is he Catholic? Would he smack you if you use the lord’s name in vain? You kind of hope he does. Maybe you'll let him borrow one of the rings you 'found'.

You know you look like shit. You can see the outline of your tangled, frizzed hair in the dark in passenger side mirror. You’re never teasing your hair again.

If you pass by a street light, you know you’ll see the rest of yourself in the dirty yellow glow, looking haunting as ever. You angle the mirror away. No need for another reason to bum yourself out before your— whatever this is— with Lee.

You sigh and relax back into the seat, closing your eyes with relief as the rough road jostles you. Almost rocks you to sleep, right there in the passenger seat. 

He says your fake name again as you’re drifting off. 

“Sorry.” You yawn and smack your lips.

He waits for your answer. He can't go nowhere, after all.

You sigh.

“I’m gonna be honest, Lee. I got no idea where to go.”

He nods as he drives with his eyes forward. You already caught him glancing down at your chest after a particularly bad pot hole. He was on his best behavior now. You get to study his silhouette.

“Ain’t you stayin’ anywhere?”

“Nah. Got kicked out of my room this morning. Had a place lined up, but it fell through.” 

You hope he doesn’t ask more. He doesn’t. Good man.

Your stomach grumbles and you hunch over, desperate to subdue the sound. You were used to that by now.

“How about we get you somethin’ to eat, huh? That sound alright?”

“You sure?” You look up at him, your hand cradling your empty stomach.

“Hell yeah. Been dyin’ to take you out since you first glared at me. Dressed up for the occasion—thanks for noticin’.”

“Is that so?” You huff out a laugh. “Color me flattered. You clean up nice. But you’re full of it. I wasn’t glarin’ at nothin’.”

“Oh yeah? ‘Cos I liked it, you know. I thought you were makin’ eyes at me. I like when pretty girls make eyes at me.”

“You’re blind, bud.”

“Nahhh. ” He grins wider. “You like me. Think I’m handsome.” 

You neither confirm nor deny, but you smile as he turns away. You see him blinking and narrowing his eyes at the road signs as he drives. He’s probably blinder than you are. Maybe he regrets telling you to call him, now with your mess close enough to see.

“Pretty girls must be in short supply if you’re settling for me.” You mutter under your breath and lay back again. If he heard you, he doesn’t reply.

He pulls into a 24-hour diner. 

It’s like he read your mind. You could kill a breakfast combo right now. And however many coffees you can drink before they kick you out for not paying, unless Lee is more liquid than he looks.

You doubt it.

You spin around on your plastic-y little dinner stool, your busted heels hanging off your toes as you kick your feet around. The coffee is good . You would have preferred a booth for privacy, but this is fun too. 

Lee watches you with amusement over his coffee. He looks different when he’s well lit. Older. More worn. Especially with his hair slicked out of his face, so you can see how deep the bags under his eyes are. You prefer it messy.

He's a good time. Funny, but stupid. You didn’t know it was possible to fit a sausage link up one’s nose. It shouldn’t be, it was fucking gross. You stick your tongue out in playful disgust when he eats it anyways. He laughs like a boy.

He’s got nice teeth. Mom would be happy, if that kind of thing mattered now. You wonder if he’s Catholic. You don’t think you are anymore.

He makes you laugh ugly. It makes your cheeks hurt, the kind where you have to massage them for a while after. It feels good to laugh ugly.

He doesn’t ask about anything that matters. You like that.

You both check out the same waitress. You ask her for sugar free sugar, the real kind (whatever that means), and you both watch as she stands on a stool to look at the top shelf, her teeny uniform not covering much of anything. She’s probably eighteen. Doesn’t know any better.

Now you’ve been on both sides. It’s a rite of passage.

He tells you you’re prettier than her, but you pretend not to hear, flicking a folded up napkin towards the trash can behind the counter. Daddy always said you were a pretty girl. You used to hear that a lot more often. You’d believe Lee if it were a couple days ago, when you were within twelve hours of a hot shower. 

The napkin misses the trash can. You meet his eyes. He smirks.

You have an unspoken agreement with Lee.

You chew your soggy, jellied toast silently and without alarm while he pockets another customer’s tip.

He shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth and doesn’t mention anything as your fingers slip into the lady beside you’s pocket book. 

God bless 24-hour diners.

Combined, you probably have enough to pay for your food. You’re still a little short, not that the waitress would notice until you left, if she could count at all. But why leave it to chance? 

You both stand up at the same time, offering compliments to the chef, the lovely waitress—

“Where do you think you two are going?” A grimy hand wraps around your arm. It’s the cook. Or else he just smells like bacon grease. You feel less satisfied with how the food sits in your stomach, suddenly. “You ain’t paid yet.”

“Alright, keep your paws to yourself, pal—“ Lee knots his hand in the cook’s greasy shirt. Meaty fucking hand. God, the size of those fingers.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey—“ You hold your hands up in surrender. “We’re cool. No need to freak out. We’re cool, aren’t we?” 

“Still gotta pay for your fuckin’ food.” 

You have a small gun now. Your fingers itch to hold it again, to squeeze the grip made for your small hand.

You glance at the laminated menu another customer ducks their head behind. Quickly you stand beside Lee, pressing your chest against his side with your hand on his sternum. He’s warm. Solid, beneath the softness. It’s nice when he’s not damp with beer sweat. You try not to think about it. 

“Are you serious ? You—you think Mr. Denny pays at his own restaurants?” You motion to Lee with your hand. 

The cook balks at both of you, and Lee puffs out his chest. You try not to laugh.

“Bullshit you’re Mr. Denny. He’s gotta be like eighty or something.”

“J-Junior! Mr. Denny junior, obviously!” You take Lee’s jaw between your thumb and forefinger and aim his face at the cook. You’re suddenly grateful Lee combed his hair back. And that he knows when to keep his mouth shut. “See this? Spitting image!”

The cook glances at a blown up photograph hanging on the wall. White hair, beady eyes, the kind of jaw that recedes back into a neck. About the only thing similar to Lee was that they were both human. Maybe. 

Damn. You almost made it, too.

A giggle bubbles out of Lee’s throat as he catches sight of the photograph and the cook’s face goes red, burn-calloused hand reaching for Lee’s throat. A busboy with a tray full of dishes passes by at the wrong moment and you swing your hand up and knock the entire tray back against the cook. 

You leave behind a calamity of broken porcelain and gasps in your wake as you pull Lee by his hand out of the diner. He throws down a few chairs on his way to muddle the path to follow you both as you run. 

Even in busted heels, you’re faster than Lee. 

His huffing, red face would be entertaining if he wasn’t the one with the keys. 

“Drive, drive, drive!” You hollar, grin plastered to your cheeks as you smoosh your face and hands against the passenger window, watching in amusement as the cook and the waitress scramble outside and look around for you.

Lee’s braying laugh fills your ears as his car pulls out of the parking lot. You’re laughing too, content with wherever he sees fit to take you. You feel safe. You shouldn’t, but you do.

You have a small gun now.

Previous chapter.

Next chapter.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Farmboy

I hate grocery shopping. Usually I make whatever dumb chick I'm seeing do that crap, but I'm between hoes right now. Hopefully the cashier is hot enough to flirt with.

Dragging the cart down the aisle, I almost run into a giant oaf studying a rows of cans. The guy is tall, fat, and severely sunburnt. I can tell he's got some impressive muscle beneath his chub; probably from all the labor he does on his farm. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, he's essentially a walking cliche.

"Hey move it, redneck," I snap.

"You have a problem with me, son?" he slowly turns and peers out from his dirty beard.

"Not you," I answer annoyedly, "Just your fat ass. Move it."

This guy has to be slow because he just doesn't seem to get it. Instead of getting out of my way, he takes lumbering steps towards me and grabs my cart with his meaty paws.

"Try again, son."

"Man, let me through already!" I roll my eyes, "Are you dumb or something? All I want to do is pass! Then you can get back to shoveling crap and humping cows, ok?"

The hulking farmer staggers towards me until his fat stomach almost bumps me over.

"You think I shovel crap and hump cows all day?" he quietly growls down at me.

"Sure. You probably sleep with the pigs too big guy," I add.

"That sounds more like something you would do, kid," he slowly retorts.

"Man, look at me," I cry, "Do I look like a filthy redneck?"

"Actually you do."

His response catches me off guard. I'd just wanted to get the shopping done, but now this guy is straight up lying to my face. No one could ever mistake me for a country bumpkin with my stylish hair and $300 sneakers.

"You look exactly like a farmboy," he continues to grumble, "Just take a look at your hands, kid. See how worn they are; how filthy they are. That's the sign of hard work right there."

I can't help but hold my hands out in front of me.

That can't be right! Just like he said, dirt and dust cover my palms all the way up my arms. They're somehow riddled with callouses even though I rarely used my hands for anything.

"What'd you-"

"And look at what you're wearing, kid," he keeps talking, "You've been tracking dirt all through the store with those boots."

"I have $300 sneakers..." I nervously glance down.

I almost scream when I don't see my favorite kicks. My shoes have somehow been replaced with big rubber boots. I don't even own a pair of these, and yet they cover my feet all the way up my shins. Like the farmer had said, they were caked with mud, and it looks like I had created a messy trail of footprints across the store.

"Stop," I beg quietly.

"Stop?" he laughs and each bellow echoes through the store, "I'm just getting started, kid. You haven't even looked in the mirror yet. You've got the same bib overalls I got on!"

I shudder and turn away, abandoning my cart to run through the store in my awkwardly huge boots. I need to find the nearest bathroom and fast. I can already feel my clothes changing and a pair of straps pulling at my shoulders.

Bursting into the restroom I stare at my reflection.

I'm wearing the same redneck outfit as that farmer freak! Before I start ripping the clothes off, the door slams open and the giant farmer lumbers in.

"Stop whatever it is you're doing to me!" I scream, "Give me my clothes back!"

"Why would I do that, kid," he asks, "You love this getup. You don't want those fancy city clothes anyway."

I cringe as the tall boots suddenly feel very comfortable on my feet. The straps of the overalls on my shoulders are all the sudden very comforting to me. God this thing stinks, but I feel a new kind of pride in that stench. It is after all my own smell. There's nothing wrong with reeking of hard work, right?

"That's it, kid," the big redneck pats my head with his dirty hand, "There's nothing you'd rather do than work on my farm, right?"

God, he's right. All that land, the animals, and solitude sound perfect. I would be happy to work on his farm.

"Alright farmboy, come with me."

I follow behind the giant as he marches out of the grocery store. I notice that the cashier is exceptionally cute when we pass, but a pretty girl like that has no interest in me. She cringes at my smell. Girl probably can't handle the smell of a real man.

Back at the farmer's ranch, he leads me to the barn, and shows me inside.

"You'll live in here with the animals, kid," he explains, "I'll teach you the routine of feeding all them, but I have other chores for you to do right now."

The farmer hands me a shovel and bucket. Both things are covered in mud and who knows what else, but I don't mind. I already can guess what my job is.

"Picking up crap and humping cows, huh," he chuckles, remembering words I said a lifetime ago, "Well you can get started by shovelling all the crap. We'll see about the cows later."

"Awesome," I smile, happy he's already trusting me with his animals.

I get right to work, shovelling up the piles of dung. I can't help but smile with joy. This work just makes me so happy. I should probably keep my mouth closed though if I don't want any flies buzzing in, but I just can't help myself. Boy, am I glad I ran into the guy.

[libby-for-life]

A Dragon's Tale part 3! I would read parts 1 and 2 first before you read this. Enjoy! For @inubaki

I hope you like it!

Adam grinned as he flew down into the trenches of Hell. He waited for months for Extermination Day to happen. He had been training with his girls for this particular day and he finally found a way to release all the pent-up anger and pain he was experiencing from hiding his celestial form for so long without reprive.

He shot another Sinner with holy light and grinned as they exploded across the cracked pavement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a demon running into an alley. Smirking, he followed the filth and cornered them to the wall.

"Please....I'm sorry...." The Sinner begged and Adam faltered.

"Dad...I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

Adam looked into the eyes of his prey and saw the fear and hopelessness in his blue orbs. How he was crying and begging for Adam, an angel, to spare his life. He should have ignored him. He should have killed him instead of listening to the begging of the forsaken.

The Sinner didn't look like anything remotely human but whenever he looked into those eyes...all he could see was—

Cain.

Adam felt like he's going to be sick and it doesn't help when Lute flies in front of him and stabs the Sinner in his throat. He gurgled and sputtered but the light eventually left his eyes and he slumped onto the floor dead for good this time.

"It's mercy, Adam. They're living a life of debauchery. Sin and pain. The kindest thing is to end it for them. Quickly of course." Sera had said when she gave him his weapon to use in battle. "This is for Heaven. You are protecting your home."

"Sir? Are you okay?" Lute asked as she cleaned her blade. Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. "Y-yeah...let's just get this day over with."

XxX

Adam was feeling completely lost. He found himself pacing back and forth across the wooden floors of his dimly lit apartment. It had been nearly three hours since he had last moved from the same spot. The urge to spread his dragon wings and take flight had been building up inside him for what felt like an eternity. Adam felt like he was going stir-crazy, having to hide his true nature for months on end. He couldn't help but let out a frustrated growl, trying to shake off the feeling of being trapped. As much as he tried to push through it, he couldn't escape the fact that he had been holding back for too long. He had endured longer periods without embracing his true form, but this time it felt different.

"Come on, Adam. Be a man," He growled out, but it came out as more of a whimper. "You can do this! You just had Extermination Day." He had the chance to do something that Heaven had all but begged him to do since he got here into Heaven, going into Hell to take care of the Sinners, and Adam had thought that would be the time to get all his restlessness taken care of. He was wrong.

Adam's restless energy surged within him, his celestial form straining against his human-like facade. As a surge of discomfort prickled his skin, he clenched his jaw and bit his lip to stifle the sensation. Unable to endure another moment in the confines of Heaven, Adam hastily conjured a portal and stepped through, his urgency overriding any caution. Emerging on the other side, he found himself standing in a vast, unfamiliar field within the realm of Wrath. With a deep breath, he closed the portal behind him and relinquished his human guise, allowing his true celestial form to emerge.

Adam let out a choked laugh as his wings burst through his back and his form grew until he was the celestial dragon he was made to be. Adam flew in the air, rolling in the fields as he stretched his limbs. So far, no annoying other dragon had—his thoughts were cut off when he was tackled to the dirt.

Adam's frustration boiled over as he realized that the creature had returned much sooner than he had hoped. "I'm really not up for this right now," he muttered through gritted teeth. In a surge of anger, he seized the dragon by the neck, drawing it close without concern for its feathers. "I've had a really rough day, and I won't let you spoil it. Got it?"

The dragon tilted his head and licked his snout. Adam blinked and looked at the dragon and its boldness. "What the fuck?!" He finally sputtered out.

He throws the dragon away as far as he could and he could feel everything finally spill over. "I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" He yelled as tears fell down his cheeks and he curled into a ball of mixed emotions. Choked sobs left him and he growled every few seconds.

He expected the dragon to fight him; he did just throw a wild animal away or even abandoned him like everyone else did. Just like Heaven had done.

More tears fell off his snout and curled tighter into his protective ball when he heard that damned dragon come closer again. Couldn't that fucking animal take a hint?! Instead of tackling him, or trying to wrestle again, he does something unexpected.

The dragon slowly leaned its head down and gently laid it on top of him. Its long, slender tongue poked out and it softly licked his head in a comforting manner that Adam found completely unfamiliar. As Adam opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of piercing red eyes—eyes that exuded an intelligence far beyond that of any mere animal.

As Adam murmured, "Who are you?" all he received in response was a comforting lick on the cheek. In that moment, Adam was too overwhelmed to question what was happening, and he simply allowed the dragon to provide him with comfort. He felt the dragon's warm, protective presence surrounding him, which caused him to release a sigh of contentment as the dragon shifted to lie on its back. Adam couldn't help but notice that the dragon seemed larger than before, and this made him feel smaller in comparison, but not in a negative way. In fact, it made him feel protected.

"Sorry I, um,....sorry," Adam struggled to find the right words, feeling a sense of unfamiliarity as he attempted to apologize. It was a stark contrast to his previous existence, where apologies were a rarity. The irony of the situation struck him - in Heaven, he never had to apologize for anything, yet here he was, expressing remorse in Hell. As he nervously spoke, the dragon exhaled heavily, and although its tongue grazed his cheek once more, Adam took it as a sign of forgiveness.

Adam fell asleep once more and Lucifer looked down at Adam’s sleeping form. "Hmm...to think there would be a day where you would apologize...and to me, a dragon, of all people." He said with a smirk.

He gently licked once more, savoring the unique taste of Adam, and chuckled. "I guess anything can happen." He had no idea what happened but Adam was clearly in distress, crying of all things as he yelled at Lucifer to leave.

Lucifer had known he needed to be careful. Anything could happen when Adam was that volatile. So, he had gently comforted him, hoping that would make him stop crying. He was lucky it worked. Lilith used to do that.

She seemed to have lost interest in everything, and Lucifer longed for the days when their relationship was more fulfilling. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were growing apart, and her words had become colder and more hurtful. It appeared that nothing he did could please her anymore. Despite this, he was determined to find a way to mend their relationship.

Lucifer fell into a shaky sleep, the only thing making it better was that he wasn't alone.