#and then passes it on to ziggy or whatever

[johnwickb1tsch]

🌻Small Town Girl🌻 ~ Part 2

Tex Johnson thought he was just passing through…until he set his eyes on you. 

Part 2 of a little Tex x Reader fic for my beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff. ILYSM!😘

Warnings: mentions of past spousal abuse, mentions of animal abuse, religious trauma...you know, the usual social problems of depressed rural america... I can say that because I live here. divider by saradika part 1

2. 

You’re a heavy sleeper, but this takes the cake.

When you stagger into your kitchen and look out the window Tex’s Chevelle is parked half in your gravel driveway, half in your yard. And tethered to your fence post munching green grass to his heart’s content is a certain miniature equine who you’d tried to acquire with cold hard cash the night before.

Fuck.

You march outside in your threadbare nightgown and your bare feet, finding Tex asleep in the driver’s seat. How the hell did he even get this horse here with that car?

If he put Ziggy in the trunk you are going to murder him.

You pound on the window, and he wakes with a violent start. “Popsicles!”

“What?”

He looks around, before fixing on you, and seems to relax a hair. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

“What. The fuck. Did you do?”

“Uh…funny story…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? Didn’t you want this horse?”

“Yeah, but…” You pull at your hair, feeling a migraine coming on already. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

You turn in the dew-wet grass to go check on Ziggy. You hear Tex exiting the car behind you. “Don’t be mad, baby.”

“I’m not mad,” you answer sadly, running your fingers through the little horse’s coarse blond mane. “I’m scared.”

Ziggy nibbles at your fingers with his meaty lips, wanting the treats he associates you with. He was going to need a whole lot more than molasses cookies though. You could already tell how your day was going to go.

“Don’t be scared either, darlin’,” Tex says behind you.

“Easy for you to say. You realize this is the first place Dale is gonna come look? And he’ll probably bring Donnie too.”

Nevermind the restraining order you have. It won’t stop him. He’s friends with half the sheriff’s deputies anyway. The Barksdales are damn near untouchable. You learned that the oh so hard way.

“Honey, I’m not going to let them hurt you.” 

For the sake of the horse you keep your temper in check, moderating your voice when all you want to do is yell. “What are you going to do? Watch over me every minute of the day?” He lifts his brows like he likes that idea–you do too, which is batshit insane, because you don’t actually know a goddamn thing about this man.

“Hold on. How did you even know where I live?”

He shrugs. “Not hard to find out, if you know where to look.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all.”

You guess all he’d have to do is ask at the gas station–your family’s been here long enough that it’s basically common knowledge.

You stand there in your faded floral muumuu and your bare feet, toe to toe with this tall dark man and if you had any sense you would be afraid…but you’re not. You’re not because you just don’t think he’ll hurt you. You feel it in your bones and you haven’t had that certainty about any man in so long you can’t remember, and it’s driving you a little wild inside.

“I need my boots,” you sigh, and brush past him to go back to the house.

***

You put Ziggy in the farthest back stall of your barn, where he’ll be out of sight should anyone come looking. With a flake of hay and some grains in his bucket, he seems perfectly content, the sweet sound of him munching filling the old oak building. You lean on a rough sawn post and watch him with a storm in your heart, wondering how long its been since he’d been able to eat his fill.

There will be a price to pay for this little horse’s well being, and you decide whatever it is will be worth it, even if you are afraid. Tex’s presence might deter vengeance for a little while, but he won’t be here forever. You know he won’t, no matter how nice it is to think it, so you’d better be ready.

You were going to have to think on this.

But first, you were going to have to call the ferrier. Luckily you had a friend who wouldn’t rat you out to the Barksdales. Angela was tough as nails and didn’t kowtow to their bullshit. 

It occurs to you that maybe the best thing for Ziggy, and the best thing for you, might be to get this horse far away from here. You wouldn’t put it past Dale or Donnie or one of his other heartless relatives to sneak into your barn in the dead of night and do something awful. There wouldn’t be a whole lot you could do about it either.

You’ve had this horse for about 5 seconds, and the thought of giving him up already breaks your heart.

Tex has been standing silently beside you. You feel his eyes on you, but in what you suspect is a rare occurrence, he’s not running his mouth, giving you space to think. But when you give a heavy sigh he finally breaks. “Come on, darlin’, I thought this would make you happy. It kills me to see you sad.” He opens his arms to you, but you eye them warily. It’s too tempting by far. The way this man is dangerous to you, is that you could get too used to his company too quick.

“You want breakfast?” you deflect.

He nods, those dark eyes taking the measure of you, looking through you, you’re afraid, right into your soul. “Sure.” But he doesn’t move, still just looking at you. 

“What?” you grouse.

Your annoyance only makes him grin.

“Did I mention you’re the cutest little thing in a muumuu and muck boots this side of the Mississippi?”

You roll your eyes, not believing him for a minute. Your hair is still in its bird’s nest of a sleeping braid and you haven’t had your coffee yet. With hands on your hips you look him over too. He’s still wearing the same shirt as last night, and his eyes are a little bloodshot.

“Did you tie one on last night and steal that horse?”

He scrubs at the back of his neck, looking all the while like a guilty schoolboy. “Well…about that…”

This is the thing that finally breaks through your black mood, lifting your sorrow like a blanket. The thought of this man committing grand theft pony–dare you think it, for you–brings a small smile to your lips, and a whole lot of sunshine to your heart.

“Tell me in the house. I’m hungry.” When he doesn’t immediately budge you turn him by the shoulders and give him a shove. Without really thinking about it, you smack his ass for good measure. That tight little behind is round, and firm, and you bite your lip without meaning to, wishing it was something else.

He makes a show of jumping with surprise, smirking at you knowingly over his shoulder. “Watch it, baby girl, or I’mma get myself a handful next,” he warns you with a wicked glint in his eye that makes your insides churn. 

You don’t know what insane notion possesses you, when you stick out your tongue at him– and run. 

You're smarter than this. You know you don't run from a predator. You face them down and smack them on the nose. 

His laughter from right behind you makes an electric thrill zip from your heart to your toes. Dear Lord. No man should be this much fun. 

He really is like a drug, and you don’t know what you were thinking running from him, because you are not fast, and you are clumsy, but somehow it’s him behind you who lets out a surprised yell.

You turn to find Tex with his foot in a hole up to his calf. “Oh my god. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He extricates himself, and you both peer down into a tunnel running under the aisle of your dirt floor barn. You look at the direction, and follow it to an unoccupied stall. Throwing open the door, you find mounds and mounds of freshly disturbed earth.

“Motherfucker. That groundhog is back.”

Tex looks at the impressive damage with eyebrows raised high. “Goddam. You sure it ain’t a bear? Or a rogue bulldozer?”

“Yes. I can’t deal with this now. Come on.” You take his hand, pulling him towards the house, and he happily follows.

You pause at the front door. “Umm…it’s going to be chaos for a minute. Fair warning.” Then you lead him into the fray.

Chichi is a tiny black and tan tornado at your feet, yipping and screaming. You shake a treat can and hand one to Tex. “Give this to him if you want to live.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tex complies, crouching down to the little dog’s level to offer the morsel. Chichi gobbles it and quiets down, switching to sniffing and licking as Tex scratches his side. His hand is almost as big as your dog, and it touches your heart, how sweet he is to the little creature. Satisfied, Chichi runs back to you for a snuggle.

“We good now?” you ask the little chihuahua. He licks you fervently, and you laugh, setting him back down on the floor. Your bulldog reacts in the exact opposite manner, not even getting out of her bed, only deigning to open one eye to regard your visitor. Your conure has joined in the cacophony, and will not quiet until you give him a piece of apple.

“I hope you like fresh eggs and bacon, it’s all I got.”

“Alright.” He seems amused by you, and the happy mayhem of your home, looking around with a sparkle in his eye. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” You point him in the right direction and go to the kitchen, lighting a burner under your cast iron skillet. You busy yourself with frying bacon and cracking eggs and filling the kettle for coffee. You are so concentrated on your task that it takes you a moment to notice Tex leaning on the door jam–sans shirt.

You blink, and nearly put your hand in the hot pan. “You forget something?” you ask, trying like hell not to stare at the broad expanse of muscled torso before you. Jesus fucking christ, that’s not fair.

“My clean shirts are back at the motel,” he defends. 

His hair is slightly damp from washing up, looking unfairly edible.

He sidles closer, and you notice the top button of his jeans is undone. A long scar runs down the center of his abdomen, leading your eye to a dark patch of hair that disappears into his waistband. 

Evil. This man is pure evil–and you want to taste every inch of him.

“My eyes are up here, darlin’,” he says with a smirk. 

“You are a menace,” you grouse, holding up a spatula in defense as he just keeps getting closer. He smirks, looking down at the implement.

“You gonna spank me, sweetheart?”

“I would, but I’m afraid you’d like it.”

You are warm all over, and it has nothing to do with slaving over a hot stove.

“Can I help?”

Like he hasn’t helped enough.

“Sure. Pour that hot water into that carafe.”

He looks between the french press, the kettle, and you. “Ever heard of a Mr. Coffee?”

“We don’t tolerate weak coffee in this house.”

He grins at you, doing as he’s told. He even knows to stir it with a wooden spoon, which makes you think he was just pulling your leg.

While you are flipping bacon you feel him zero in behind you, the line of warmth from his body like a heat lamp at your back. “Smells wonderful,” he says, daring to touch your waist.

“It’s meat candy, what do you expect?” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the bacon, or him. 

“Hmm.” His chuckle is a low rumble behind you. You feel it reverberate in your bones. The tips of his fingers press into your sides as he grips fistfuls of your nightgown–and you–as he nuzzles your hair. The sound you make as you wiggle in his arms is almost cartoonish. He takes no mercy, laughing and holding you closer. The warm, solid line of his body behind you is divine, so wonderful you can hardly stand it.

“You are going to make me burn the bacon!” you screech in an attempt at self-defense.

“That’s alright, I’ll just eat you for breakfast,” he tells you in that low growl that makes your knees weak, ducking to nibble at your ear. It’s possible you give in for a few seconds, your head rocking back against his shoulder as he holds you. Why does it have to feel like you fit together so well? When his long fingers bunch in your skirt, pulling it up as his other hand reaches for your breast you think you might combust. In a panic you smack his hand with the spatula with a little scream, trying not to giggle. 

“Go sit down!”

With a wicked chuckle he skips out of reach before you can smack him again, collapsing into one of the old wooden kitchen chairs. His smoldering gaze meets yours, and you feel unsettled. 

This man. Lord save you.

Or not. Maybe…you don’t want to be saved.

“I don’t know how you do things in Texas, but here you don’t get to feel a girl up just because you rustled a horse for her.”

He grins, baring his teeth like he means to eat you.

“Sorry, darlin’, blame the muumuu.”

You try to keep a straight face, but in the end you fail utterly. 

“You gonna tell me how all this happened?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“No, but I should.”

“Hmm. Well, after the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met abandoned me at the fair–”

“Oh save it, Mr. L.A. stuntman.”

He grins but goes on, “I had to do something to nurse my broken heart. So I went to the aforementioned TJ’s by the creek…”

“Ok, this is starting to make sense.”

You start setting dishes of food and plates on the table. Eggs, bacon, toast, butter and jam, and of course, coffee. “And I only had one drink, because I’m a cautious sort of fellow…”

“Yes, that has been made glaringly apparent in the short time I've known you.”

He nods in agreement with a fey glint in his eye all the while. “And who walks in, but our friend Dale…”

“Oh god. You didn’t pick a fight with him, did you?”

“I did not. I went out to the parking lot, to find his horse trailer still full of petting zoo employees conveniently two cars away from mine.”

You cover your mouth, so he can’t see the absolutely feral grin forming on your lips. “You didn’t.”

“I so did. Let the goats out to disperse in the woods there, and wouldn’t you know Ziggy fit right in my passenger seat?”

You are picturing this big tough man in his muscle car peeling out down the road with that cute little horse as a co-pilot. That must be the point when you officially lose your sanity, because you crawl into his lap, planting a big kiss right on his mouth. He lets out a low moan of appreciation, cupping your rear end in his two big hands.

“Tex?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“You’re a goddamned hero.”

“I know! I’ve been trying to tell you,” he says with a grin, stealing another kiss.

You try to extricate yourself to go sit in the opposite chair, but he will not let you. You eat breakfast together, sitting in his lap, his big warm hand on your thigh while you giggle and feed each other morsels and talk, and you can’t help but feel like things might turn out afterall.

***

Tex is helping you do the dishes, or maybe distracting you from doing the dishes, because he keeps plying you with toe curling kisses, when the two of you watch a battered red Chevy pickup pull down your driveway.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing it immediately.

“Here we go. Later than I expected.”

You look up at him open mouthed, an involuntary fear response coursing through your veins, turning your limbs ice cold. “You expected?”

“It’s alright, darlin’. Stay inside.” He kisses your forehead, cradling your cheek with a sweet assurance that you want to believe in, more than anything. It would be too good to be true, to have a man who could really protect you. Someone you could just…depend on. You want it with every fiber of your being, and rather than get your shotgun and run out to the porch on bare feet, you stand there in the kitchen and watch Tex go out the door, pulling a white t-shirt down over a blocky black object tucked into the back of his jeans.

Oh Lord. 

Predictably, Dale is driving, and your blood turns to ice as your piece-of-shit ex spills out of the passenger seat. And even though you know the very Devil is standing there in your driveway, your first thought, as ever when seeing Donnie Barksdale, is damn he looks good. 

There really is something wrong with you. 

He’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves cut off and his usual trucker hat advertising some manner of farm implement (as if he’s ever worked that hard). As always, the sight of Donnie feels like a sharp knife shoved up between your ribs. No matter what he did to you, a part of you will always love that man, or at least, the boy he was when he was your friend, your first love, before he became so hell bent on destroying you. To this day, you do not understand what you ever did to that man, to make him turn on you so violently. You offered him all the love in your heart, and in turn he made you feel worthless. For a time, you actually believed it was true. Now you know better, but it’s been a long, hard road.

“Who the hell are you?” barks Donnie up at the self-assured man standing sentry on your front porch. 

“That’s not what you should be worryin’ about right now,” answers Tex, leaning on the post. 

“That a fact?” 

“Yep. The thing you should be worryin’ about is that you’re trespassin’.” 

Dale exits his truck, leaning on the dented hood. “That’s the fucker that hit me last night, Donnie.” 

Donnie nods, sizing Tex up. The thing about Donnie is…he doesn’t like to get into a fight he doesn’t know he’s going to win. And Tex is a helluva wildcard. It’s possible your no-good wife-beatin’ ex finally met his match. 

“He’s leaving out the bit about askin’ for it. Is beatin’ on y/n y/l/n just a universal pastime in this county for you boys when you run outta pigs to fuck, or what?” drawls Tex, picking at his fingernails. 

Donnie bristles at this, taking a step forward. “Motherfucker–” 

“That’s as far as you go, son,” warns Tex, producing the object from the back of his jeans. You knew it was a gun. You did not know it was that big of a gun. Donnie is wearing his usual inscrutable aviators, but Dale’s eyes go wide. 

“We’re just here to get my stolen horse, mister,” says Dale, holding his hands up. 

“Aww, you boys missin’ your lil’ pony? Better check the lost and found then. It ain’t here.” 

“We’ll have a look for ourselves,” spits Donnie, stepping towards the barn. 

Boom!

The report of the pistol is deafening, and the bullet sends up an explosion of gravel right in front of Donnie’s feet. The dogs and the bird go crazy, starting up and barking and screeching. Donnie jumps backwards three feet, his glasses falling off into the dirt. The expression of fear on his face is as rare as it is priceless. 

“You crazy asshole!”

You scoop up Chichi, trying to comfort him. The little dog trembles like a leaf in your arms. You murmur nonsense to it, but your eyes are glued to the confrontation outside, adrenaline rolling through your veins like flash flood water. You realize you’re shaking almost as badly as the dog. 

“Guilty. Ever seen a Desert Eagle? Shoots a big fuckin’ bullet. A .50 caliber round will explode your kneecap like an apple.” Tex whistles with appreciation, and you’re pretty sure Donnie goes pale. “Wanna test my aim today? I might miss and hit you in the balls.” 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this the way you are, but God did that man have it coming. 

 “We should call the Sheriff on you!” 

“Please do. This is a ‘stand your ground’ state. We can tell him about how you’re trespassing, and I’m pretty sure you ain’t supposed to be within 300 yards of that pretty little thing watchin’ us from the kitchen.” 

Donnie’s attention zeroes in on the window, and you sense it like a laser sight fixed upon you. You hate it, how just that hateful look makes you flinch. 

“Y/n!” Donnie calls. “Come out here!” 

“She don’t need to come out here,” says Tex. “She ain’t gonna save you.” 

Donnie seems actually surprised, when you do not obey him, staying put in your spot in the kitchen. 

When the two men just stand there in the driveway, frozen and speechless, Tex cocks the pistol for show. “You need another demonstration? Git!”

“This ain’t over, fucker!” spits Donnie, pointing menacingly–from a safe distance. 

“You better hope it is. Don’t come back, and if either one of you ever touches her again I’ll kill you. That’s a promise. Now get the fuck out of here!” 

Spoiling for a fight but clearly outgunned, the two men back towards the truck, slowly climbing in. “There you go. See ya, bronies!” 

Tex waves the pistol in their direction, and you hear Donnie yell at Dale, “Fuck! Drive! Drive!”

Dale peels out, leaving ruts in your gravel and a dust cloud as they go.

Tex stays on the porch watching until their truck is good and gone. When he finally makes it back into the house you are a teary-eyed little mess. When he sees you the flint in his eyes immediately softens. “Aw, don’t cry honey, c’mere.” You do, and with your head resting on the solid warm wall that is this man’s chest you start to lose it. 

“You actually did it.” 

“Course I did. I told you I would,” he says, stroking your hair as he holds you.

“But…you actually did it,” you say again, because you still cannot believe what just happened. No man has managed to stand up to Donnie Barksdale since your Grandpa, at 80 years old, who stood between you and Donnie in the very same spot on the porch, with the same 12 gauge you still keep behind the hutch, and threatened to cut your then-husband in half if he took another step closer. 

It was the last night Donnie beat on you, and broke your orbital bone, two of your teeth, and your arm. You’d escaped into the dark woods that night, and even though you are not stealthy or fast you managed by some miracle to make it through the brush and thorns and barbed wire fences the two miles to your grandparents’ farm house. It was the last straw, and you finally set the wheel in motion to divorce him the next day. 

You are not a pretty crier, but Tex lets you soak his shirt with tears and snot, holding you and murmuring sweet nonsense. “That’s right, honey, get it out. It’s ok.”

For once, it doesn’t sound like an empty placation. Donnie seemed genuinely scared of Tex, and Dale is an even bigger coward than Donnie. Maybe…they really will just leave you alone. 

Stranger things have happened. 

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, trying to pull away to get a tissue. “I’m a mess.” 

But Tex pulls you back, not seeming to care one bit, and when his lips touch yours it really does seem like everything in the world has turned right. 

Amusingly, Chichi has been sandwiched between all this in your arms, and only just begins to put up a grumble of protest. “Oh hush, lil buddy,” says Tex, not unkindly, scratching the little dog under the chin. He does nearly the same thing to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “You alright?”

You nod and offer a watery smile, setting the dog down on the ground. It’s not what Chichi wants, but he’ll live. “Yes. Thank you.” 

If Donnie believed what Tex said…you do too. There is something dangerous about this man. A wildness that makes his threat feel like a promise. You guess that when the law fails you, what you truly need is an outlaw who keeps his word. Yet you truly believe he’s not a danger to you. You feel safe with him, and maybe that’s the biggest miracle of all. 

“As silly as this sounds after the morning we’ve had…I really do have to go to work.” 

“Alright. I’ll drive you.” A part of you wants to say it’s not necessary. But the other half of you? Just wants to bask in this new found feeling of security while it lasts. You can’t expect Tex to stick around forever to babysit you. But for right now…god, it feels good, to not have to carry this weight all on your own shoulders. 

You kiss him again, and it is warm, and sweet as sugar cookies fresh from the oven. You melt into him, and with his strong arms around your waist, then lower, it is very hard to get up the motivation to go clean up and put on your uniform. 

“Honey, you keep kissin’ me like that and we’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

It’s embarrassing, but you know the sound you make in answer is something like a cat in heat, your fingers curling in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You feel his words inside you–in the rhythm of your heart, and the throb of your loins. It’s damn near unbearable, this sudden restlessness you feel inside.

You don’t have anyone else to depend on, so you always have to do the responsible thing. Go to work. Get the money. Pay the bills. No one escapes the bullshit death march of Capitalism, except the fuckers who are running the game.

And yet. Maybe…just this once…you could call in sick. 

You stand on tiptoe to kiss him again, grabbing fistfuls of the fluffy waves of his now dried hair. “Tex?” 

“Yeah, baby.” His voice is pure honey dripping golden in the sun. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” His big hands flex against the soft curves of your hips, grabbing fistfuls of nightgown like he’s thinking about tearing it off of you. Incredibly, he says nothing glib, just nods. But when he looks down at you for a long, heated moment–you think he could burn down the world, with the fire in that dark gaze. 

“Lead the way, darlin’.” 

You take his big, beautiful hands in yours, and pull him towards the stairs.

[spaceagebachelormann]

richie tozier & mike wheeler bday hcs por favor 🙏🙏

richie tozier & mike wheeler birthday hcs !

✧ warnings: none !

✧ ziggys notes: this is late i’m sorry ml :( i hope u like it though cause i’m kinda bad at writing for these 2 <3

✧ m.list — nav.

✿ richie tozier !

ugh this whore

he either goes all out for ur bday or gets u one little thing (it’s still meaningful though)

or halfway through the day he’ll randomly dissapear and come back like “omg hey!! i got u more things!”

he acts all cool when he gives u ur gifts but like the week before he was struggling to find something he knew u like and complained to eddie non stop abt it

“u don’t know what to get ur own s/o?..” -eddie probs

he does help though

would (try) to bake ur cake he cannot bake so he gets someone else to do it but he DOES decorate it !!

ur birthday party is probably with the losers club and it’s so chaotic

they all wanna eat that cake so bad but u legally have to take the first place (they understand but they’re disappointed)

y’all don’t know who baked the cake (jk it was prob eddie) but holy shit it’s amazing

ngl richie decorated it kinda shitty but he tried!!! and really nobody cares as long as it tastes good

on his birthday after he eats the cake and opens presents and shit all he wants to do is sit in his room with u

y’all prob makeout i’m ngl but after that he js wants a sleepover and to watch movies and then pass out on the bed

also u think he’s asleep and then hhe says something ridiculous

✿ mike wheeler !

he’s like richie but he goes even more insane for ur bday

he did a FUCK ton of chores months before and spent all the money on anything sight he thought u might like

when u wake up hes already at ur house talking to ur parents waiting for u to get up so he can give u ur stuff

he will watch and do literally whatever u want the whole day even if it’s a movie he want or letting u put pig tails in his hair

however he genuinely despises his own birthday

he woke up on his 11th birthday and decided he hates that whole day (same)

he sleeps until the afternoon to make it over quicker

he’ll spend it with u but he mightttt be a little grumpy

and ur lucky if u can get him up before 3pm

[thatoneyanderewriter]

Love or Obsession?

pairing(s): young!yandere!nick goode x shadysider!reader, platonic!ziggy berman x reader.

summary: after seeing you with tommy, nick’s not sure what he feels for you is love or obsession. but one thing’s for sure, you’re his.

warnings: toxicity, gore, blood, murder(?), manipulation, obsession, yandere, tommy becomes possessed lol, possession, mentions of sacrificing, mature language.

i wasn’t sure if I should add a spoiler warning considering the three movies have been out for some time now so I didn’t add one. sorry! but enjoy. and don’t really worry it doesn’t go by the plot of the movies anyway(mostly).

You were a camper. And he was a counselor. Okay, you weren’t that young. Only two years younger than he was. You wouldn’t deny having a small attraction for Nick Goode, Sheriff Goode’s son and the king of Sunnyvale.

Though he didn’t have a huge ego like you had expected. In fact, he was down to earth and kind, and kind of introverted. You shared similar hobbies. But you were a shadysider and sunnyvalers didn’t particularly get along with Shadysiders.

It was an normal day, well, a normal Sunny day. You definitely liked nature, but was worn out from the hiking and activities.

“Worn out? Tommy teased. “Kind of yeah, you chuckle. He wasn’t that much older than you yet a counselor. You didn’t even plan on becoming one anyway.

Yeah, you liked helping out with children but wanted a better job and focus on studies at the same time. “Hey, it’s fine, he assured you.”some of these kids never run out of energy.”

“I know right? You chuckle. Neither of you noticed that Nick had been glaring daggers right into Tommy’s skull. He was pissed. More so jealous. That you were the one Tommy was interested in. Everyone knew that.

Including him. And he needed to do something about it. He felt something for you, that he knew for sure. But wasn’t sure on what. Love or Obsession? Could it be both.

It had been passed down from family to family. Sacrifices. Possessions. And it was Nick’s turn. He already had a name in mind. At that moment, he decided Tommy would be the perfect candidate for possession. And kill all. Then you wouldn’t be so interested in him now would you?

Shadyside wasn’t a shithole for no reason. And as everyone suspected, it was a curse. Placed by Solomon Goode all those years ago back in 1666.

You suddenly trip, but Tommy caught you before you fell. You laughed. "You're a life saver. I swear." He blushed. "It's no big deal, Y/n."

You smile. "Well, I mean, i think so. You're so sweet. You know, helping everyone." "That's what a counselor does... He smiles, before rushing over to help with the next activity.

You didn't know then, that would be the final time you would see Tommy before hell broke loose. You grew tired so eventually you fell asleep quite early. Normally, You were up and ready.

When suddenly, You hear screams. You leave your cabin quick. "Y/N! Ziggy yells. "Ziggy! What's happening? You exclaim. "The witch... she possessed Tommy... Ziggy said.

"No... You frown."Not him. Why him?" Ziggy replies,”I don’t know we just have to go! I don’t want you to die!”

“I won’t, just promise me you won’t, and you’ll live, You say, standing close by your best friend. “I promise, she replies.

You both ran for your lives. You always believed that witch shit even though you shouldn’t. Because last summer, you found something you shouldn’t.

Back then you were a skeptical of the Sarah Fier Legend. A curse on Shadyside, Really? You knew the town had bad luck but a curse was out of reach.

Then you found a ritual. someone who worshipped satan or whatever had a place to go for that. And look what you found. The names of each shadyside killer carved into rocks no human could’ve done with their bare hands.

And it seemed quite obvious that Sarah fier was behind it. After all, she wanted revenge. But that was before Tommy’s name had been put into it. Which explained why Nurse Lane attacked him.

You didn’t want to admit it but she should’ve. It would’ve prevented a huge massacre. But you adored tommy. Though oblivious to his obvious feelings for you.

You two ran for a while until you screamed,”Tommy!” He was right in front of you and was about to strike but turned his attention to Ziggy.

“No! You yell and as he was about to you move her out of the way, both of you unharmed. “Y/N, you could’ve died! I can’t lose you! She said.

“Look, we’re both okay? And it was odd, he didn’t even… try to kill me, You say. “I know, maybe his feelings for you were why, ziggy blurted.

“What? You say. “Oh, She said. "You didn’t know? It was so obvious he was in love with you.” “I thought he was into Cindy�� You say. “No, she’s into Alice and everyone also knows that, Ziggy said.

"Whatever, we need to hide! He killed Jeremy, Jesse, Stacey and More kids! You yell, sobbing but tried not to. Ziggy nods. You grew up with her, if you lost her, you wouldn't know how to live.

You run with her, her hand in yours, you didn't want to let go. "Hey look! I found somewhere we could hide... Ziggy begins."Fuck, Cindy! Where is she?"

"Where did you see her last? You asked. "I-I don’t remember, we just should find her, Ziggy said. "Also, I locked Sheila in the bathroom." "Good one, You said. "But she could be killed. Plus, I heard something about Cindy and Alice going somewhere involving Sarah Fier."

"Okay, come on! Ziggy said, you run to the bathroom but now you were growing exhausted. "Sheila? You say. "Fucking Shadysider Bitch! Sheila replied. "Did you lock me in here?"

"Y/n didn't, I did... But come on, Ziggy entering the bathroom before Sheila began attacking her. You pulled her off of Ziggy. ”Calm down. there’s a killer and you have to leave or-“

“Of course it’s always a shadysider huh? Sheila said. "I mean, you’re the reason this shit is happening.” “Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what’s going on first of all, You say, laced with venom in your voice. "Second, I think we can all agree none of us want to die so-“

“Hello! Cindy said, and you could hear her voice. "Can anybody hear us?” Ziggy realized like you that it was Cindy and follows the voice. Only to see them under the bathroom.

“What are you guys doing there? You say. “Oh thank fucking god, Alice said. “It’s a long story but… can you help us out? Cindy said.

“Yeah of course, You reply. Ziggy come help me.” “No hesitation, Ziggy said, relief that her sister was okay. You help them up. Apparently Tommy was possessed first there. He killed Alice's stoner friend, Arnie.

"Wow, You said, hearing everything. "I mean, i knew of the whole ritual stuff. But-" "You knew he would be possessed? Ziggy asked. You shook your head."No, But i knew then this witch shit was real."

"Oh."

"In order to stop this, we need to reunite her hand with her body, Cindy said. You nodded. You noticed how she held onto Alice's hand. You hadn't seen Nick, Will, Joan or Kurt in a while. Which made you wonder if they were murdered too.

Nick was acting kind of lately, you didn't know why. But either way, you had to find out. "Well, where is her body? I don't think she had been buried anywhere near here, You point out.

"Y/n's right, Ziggy agreed. "Look, she is, Alice said, moving the book in front of you. You read and looked it over. "Holy shit she is, You exclaimed.

"Fuck, Ziggy said. "Which is why we could bury her hand with her body, we know where her hand is too, Cindy explained. You nodded. "Then what are we waiting for? We could end this curse now."

"Okay, Cindy said. "Come on." Sarah Fier's hand was in the front on fhe table. It soon made sense why she had been buried under the tree where she had been hung. But when you accidentally touched her skeletal hand, you saw everything. You wiped your bloody nose. "I saw the witch. She was pissed. So we we should hurry up."

You grabbed any weapons you could. Even if you didn't know if you could kill or hurt anybody. But before Alice could even kill, Tommy killed her. Cindy angrily lunged at him, and so did you.

Your eyes were filled with tears but you didn't let them fall. "Alice, don't die on us, You said softly. "Please." However, she took her last breath and became another victim. But everyone couldn't mourn for long.

Everyone heard someone singing. "Ruby Lane, You said. "Come on, we have to go." Cindy was naturally reluctant but agreed. Somehow, you got lost from Cindy and Ziggy, who you figured were digging.

As you walked, hoping you could find your way back, you bumped into Nick. "Nick! You're okay! You said, sighing of relief. "Y/N, where were you.. He said, his voice filled with concern. "I... think we could end this curse, You said."

"Y/n, come on, this witch stuff isn't real, he just went crazy, Nick said. "No, Nick, I saw her, She's pissed, I saw the fucking witch! You exclaim. Tommy, the sweet guy you knew, didn't just go crazy. Neither did Nurse Lane. She was right. Of course she had been.

"Hey, this will all be over, Nick assures you, suddenly hugging you, pulling you close while you cried on his shoulder, not seeing the smirk on his face.

Everything was going according to plan.

[charlott2n]

charlotte what are your favorite concept albums :] i'm trying to listen to music more and i like concepts

hope by klaatu is my ultimate favorite concept album!! its prog rock from 1977 about space and an alien war and a lighthouse keeper and stuff :) so many amazing songs im actually getting chills all over my body just thinking about So Said The Lighthouse Keeper. VERY IMPORTANT there exists a song called Epilogue its 40 seconds long its not on the album but you HAVE to listen to it between lighthouse keeper and the title track im begging you its so pretty and i think sets up the title track perfectly. its such a shame they didnt put it on the album for whatever reason.

other faves are eldorado (another album i could write a Paragraph about) and time by elo, ziggy stardust and diamond dogs by david bowie, songs for the deaf by qotsa, deltron 3030, plastic beach by gorillaz, were only in it for the money by frank zappa, wywh by pink floyd, days of future passed by the moody blues, thick as a brick by jethro tull, circus by argent, paradise theatre by styx, preservation act 2 by the kinks, and master of brutality by church of misery :)

[kimberlyannharts]

LAST TIME ON RANGER ACADEMY - Dark Specter has taken over the school! And we can't use this as an excuse for free vacation time because if he gets out he'll take over the universe or whatever. Have we seen this before?

Hope comes in the form of Zilan's anti-Dark Specter machine, but a corrupted Mathis has sabotaged it in a fun little prank. That's probably not as funny as they thought it was.

It's Ranger Academy #12!

= Another instance in how Ranger Academy handled the whole Dark Specter corruption plot than Darkest Hour - dear god I wish Aisha had gotten even a tenth of this much emotion when she saw Rocky and Adam were corrupted

= Well sounds a lot easier than going to a Zeo Crystal Planet in another dimension

= Nika's kind of hilarious btw he's only just gotten back in contact with his old friend and they're trying to save the universe from a Dark Specter takeover and he won't stop flirting with that friend who's still grieving his dead boyfriend. He's been waiting to shoot his shot for over ten years

= Rhianth legitimately looks like he got barbecued here but it's fine. He's too hot to die

= Don't get me wrong Lindy/Sage is superior but Sage/Kartyr is also good if I had to pick a het ship. Pink/Green always gets me, man

= My friends and I saw you across the bar and we're coming to kick your ass (we're all underage)

= I still can't believe THIS book gave us Dark Specter's classic design for his final stand rather than the 2016 series. With very passing day I hate the Evil Radiant Red design more and more

= Also him saying "it's allowed me to become more concentrated" kind of supports my theory that Dark Specter existing here is due to him reforming in some kind of regenerative cycle, and he's still in his "early stage"

= Sage: you think you're so evil? We all have MENTAL ILLNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

= That staff becoming a bow is a good twist

= also yeah yeah Dark Specter got taken out too easily whatever, it's still better than the main series

= Headmaster you truly did nothing for me ever. Nothing for anyone, really

= so as I said in my notes, I think this is supposed to answer that the face we saw in the Green tube were most likely Zilan and Tashi's spirits, but not fully-formed. I guess it was just a little confusing due to them appearing as a big head, and Sage saying "is that me??" - I feel that would have made more sense if Sage and Zilan were legitimately brother and sister and you could connect the dots that they looked alike because of that relation (they already look super similar, so why not just take that extra leap. It would also explain why Sage's parents were there and why Zilan was THAT protective of her)

= also live Sage reaction

= Unfortunately now you're gonna have to listen to Green Ranger teachers, and do you KNOW how crazy those guys are???? Ziggy one day and Riley the next. Major whiplash

= GAY PEOPLE ARE SO ANNOYINGGGGGG

= also "maybe it's time I retired!" Nika, you're like.....thirty. Actually wait, I totally understand him

= I'm kind of mourning the fact that we'll never see Nugget Zord come to pass

= But anyway, the end!!!! Goodbye, Ranger Academy. Video review to come....soon

[lowkeyrobin]

hello, ziggy katz x transmasc reader. Ples 😋😋

- 🗡️

okay I can try 😔😔 ; thank you for requesting 🗡, hope you enjoy! ; also this is just kinda a hc thing idk man I tried LMFAOOAOAO

ZIGGY KATZ ; trans-something

summary ; being trans and also ziggys partner is something else

warnings ; language, slight transphobia / ignorance & misgendering

word count ; 409

masterlist

he lowkey doesn't understand at all

like.... okay??

he doesn't rlly care he still finds you hot/cute

he's supportive

but he doesn't rlly know what to do for you to make you comfortable so you're gonna have to have that talk

he's kind of ignorant tbh so don't expect him to be the nicest about it

like he wants to tell ppl himself and out you to his friends or random ppl and it's like wtf stop

lowkey misgenders you on accident

he grows a pair and stops whatever he's doing once u talk about it but like bro

he's always been ignorant / weird in a not good way but gang 💀 u wanna slap him upside the head sometimes

again he does grow a pair and releases "oh that's not very swaggy of me"

he talks like a 2020 dsmp kid, fight me

he often asks about if you're wearing your binder properly and keeping up with your T shots if you take them

he often sends you tiktoks ab trans ppl talking about their experience w being trans and asking "is this what u feel like??" and "damn I never knew it was this deep"

he was definitely one of those kids who needed the lgbtq+ explanation with the game consoles iykwim

like it wasn't that hard to understand but go off ig

he also sends you the occasional cringe "be who you are" video to make you smile

if you write any poetry about being trans, he's stealing it /hj

gotta keep the audience engaged

if it means speculation about him being trans then it's fine

a few weeks later he'll actually credit you and ppl r like "....does this count as queerbait?"

LMFAOOO

lowkey i hc him as transmasc too

so for any transmasc ziggy truthers this one is for you

transmasc boyfriends goes crazy btw

you're so much tighter now

he's a bit ignorant when it comes to accidentally outing you / accidentally misgendering you but tbf it's very new to him and he doesn't mean it purposefully

he never really feared anything when he came out so like.. he thought you'd be the same ??

he shares clothes with you as well

he genuinely passes as cis super well so if you need any help on passing he's here

he's lowkey kind of a bitch ab u not returning clothes tho

they're his not urs... it's called borrowing for a reason

[trixie-troubleby]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, consider: Sportacus needs to get up to his ship, but for plot reasons, the ladder isn't available/working. The solution? Clearly, Robbie must fire him out of a cannon.

Hi yes sorry, yeah! I’m always taking fic requests. This was pretty fun!!! Thanks for sending the request in, I hope you like it!

It had been Trixie’s idea. And well, it wasn’t a great idea per se but the kids all agreed it was and Sportacus had figured out that if they put their minds to some it was easier not to disagree.

Which meant oddly enough, Robbie was the voice of reason.

“You want what?” Robbie demanded through the speakers by his door.

“Please Robbie! Sportacus can’t get back home.” Ziggy whined.

“We just need to borrow your cannon for like twenty minutes!” Pixel added.

“And we’ll take real good care of it!” Stephanie said brightly.

“I– oh my god.” Robbie groaned. “I’ll be right up.”

“With the cannon?” Stingy asked.

“No, not with the–“ Robbie exclaimed. “You f–“

“Language, please.” Sportacus sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Language, please.” Robbie mocked. Moments later he appeared from the pipe down to his lair. “I’m not letting you shoot Sportaloon out of a cannon.” He said as soon as his feet touched the ground. The kids booed him.

“You try to shoot him out of a cannon all the time!” Trixie complained.

“Yeah and it’s not like it’ll hurt Sportacus! He’s a super hero!” Ziggy insisted.

Sportacus cringed slightly. “Slightly above average–“ He murmured under his breath. Robbie caught his eye. The villain looked somewhat smug.

“You just don’t wanna help!” Stephanie huffed.

Robbie examined his nails. “Listen kid, if he can’t get into his ship then that means we’re stuck with him and that’s the last thing I want. But I’m not gonna let a buncha eight year olds loose on the town with a cannon.”

“We’re not all eight!” Stephanie glared at him.

Robbie pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “I’m done arguing with children.” He looked up to Sportacus. “You.” He pointed. “Do you really want me to shoot you from a cannon?”

Sportacus hesitated, feeling the eyes of the kids on him. “Do you have any other ideas?” He finally asked. The kids all booed.

“C’mon, I’ve got an industrial grade platform lift.” Robbie nodded. The kids furrowed their brows as they tried to figure out what that was. Sportacus knew what it was but couldn’t think of how to describe it.

Robbie sighed. “It’s a machine that stretches up while holding a platform.” Robbie responded. “C’mon.”

They got the platform out of Robbie’s shed, driving it through the town until finally the got to the place where Sportacus called his airship to. With the airship’s platform lowered as far as it could go, Sportacus stepped onto Robbie’s machine. He looked hesitantly at the controls, then looked down at Robbie pleadingly.

Robbie groaned. He climbed onto the platform and pulled the lever that it made it start rising. It was slow going. Robbie didn’t look at him.

“Thank you for helping me today.” Sportacus smiled slightly.

Robbie shrugged. “Whatever.” He examined his nails closely. “I had the feeling they wouldn’t leave me alone until I did.”

Sportacus snorted. “You know they like you, Robbie. They look up to you in certain ways.”

“They… look up to me?” Robbie blinked at the hero.

“Your… ingenuity, creativity, things like that.” Sportacus nodded.

“Huh.” Robbie hummed.

They approached the airship without another word passed between them. As the platform lift reached its max height, Sportacus leapt onto the railing and jumped up to his ship. He waved to Robbie and the kids as he disappeared into the ship.

Robbie stared at the ship for a moment too long after Sportacus was gone. “Thanks.” He mumbled at the ship before he finally started the descent back down.

[vitaliskravtsov]

For Spotify wrapped - #88 and nurseydex or patater! :)

okay ngl this is a bit of a toughie bc this one is instrumental but i did my best!!!!!!!

88) the thrombey estate - knives out soundtrack

patater!!

Alexei is kind of absolutely bone-tired from the drive and he’s even more tired from camp, and more than anything, he wants to just pass out on his sofa. 

Unfortunately, it’s like 3pm and any passing out will just mean that he’ll wake up at about 2am, starving and unable to go back to sleep, so he has to tough it out.

That’s what he uses to explain why he’s seeing another person in his house, his brand-new house (okay, it’s an apartment), and doesn’t question it. 

The realtor had told him the house had history in the community, whatever that meant, but the plumbing was good and there was no water damage, so he’d taken it without interrogating that statement too deeply.

Now, though, he’s staring down a five-foot-seven blonde kid who looks like he’s straight out of an eighties sports mag.

“Mmh,” he grunts, and throws his stuff at the floor. 

The boy stares at him.

“That’ll dent,” he says, vowels lilting just a little. Weird accent.

“Mmh,” Alexei says again.

“Eat,” the boy says, and then stalks off.

Eventually, Alexei does get up and get a protein shake going. He pours it over a bowl of pasta, immediately regrets the decision, and eats the whole thing anyway.

He’s not as concerned as he should be, but by the time he goes to bed, the boy is gone, so it’s probably fine.

Over the next couple of weeks, he keeps appearing in Alexei’s house, staring at Alexei’s Russian books or petting Alexei’s sticks or leaving little notes about the decor (or the dishes, or the cooking situation, which is maybe a little more abysmal than it should be after two and a half years on his own).

He’s pretty, in an ethereal, incomprehensible, untouchable way.

He’s kind of horribly, awfully, exactly, Alexei’s type.

As the season progresses, he starts leaving hockey-related notes, but also commentary on Alexei’s music selection and on Alexei’s nutrition -- notably different from the cooking-based notes in that these have to do with macronutrients and vitamins and some things Alexei’s not entirely sure how to pronounce, at least in English -- and Alexei discovers that the boy likes Ziggy Stardust and Metallica and Aretha Franklin and Queen, and he stars putting that on more when he knows they’re both around the house.

The hockey notes are good, too, if focused on kind of old-school stuff, but Alexei doesn’t mind; he’s always down to try new stuff in his play, and he does start producing more, so. It’s a win in his book.

He learns, eventually, that the boy is called Kent and that he’s from the hellhole of a city that Alexei cannot begin to imagine why anyone would choose to live in if they weren’t here for hockey.

He starts watching movies with Alexei, too, and in that, their tastes are more similar. Kent is kind of game for anything, including Disney movies, and Alexei’s desire for Russian subtitles or dubs at the end of a long day is very on board with that.

It’s -- it’s nice, to cohabitate with someone who never generates any dishes (or if he does, meticulously puts them away totally clean) and never makes a mess, and who seems to instinctively understand when Alexei needs to be alone.

It’s really fucking nice.

Alexei blames that on the wire-crossing that happens one night when he gets home from a game and sees Kent on the couch, sprawled out all warm and inviting, and his brain, the little part of his brain that still misses the piece of shit who dumped him when he realised Alexei would never be a millionaire, says kiss your boyfriend, and Alexei does, no hesitation.

Or, well, he tries to, because his lips go straight through Kent’s forehead and he lands face first in the arm of the couch, confused and hurt, lips and nose smarting.

When he lifts his head, Kent is gone.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Taron Egerton: Coffee Daydream.

Note: This is to tide you over for a few days while I work on the others and get them scheduled for you.

I hope that you enjoy but please remember that this is unedited and there are mistakes etc. Also note that the reader does have a name in this but you can change it to your name when you read this.

Enjoy!

===

It had been more than a few bloody weeks since Taron and Cherrie had moved into their new house and the wi-fi had been disconnected (so that it could be connected at their new place) and there was nothing to do. I mean, there was stuff to do but nothing that sounded appealing to Cherrie. She had tried to unpack, tried to read the books she needed to for her classes, but they weren’t capturing her attention, making it hard for her to get into. She had also tried to make some fun meals but that only resulted in the food getting burnt and the house almost catching fire. Nothing was going her way and it was beyond irritating at this point.

The only thing that managed to keep her somewhat sane was the currently grumpy pain in the ass male in the upstairs bedroom catching up on his beauty sleep as he had just come back from a work trip to L.A.

“Right, I’ve had it. Time for a walk Ziggy.” Cherrie said as she wandered over to where the pup’s leash was kept, as well as the shoes and coats.

Ziggy trotted after her and sat down at her feet, waiting to be hooked up to his leash and of course waiting for Cherrie to put her shoes etc. on ready for their outing. It was Ziggy’s favorite as he got to sniff around and make a new friend or two at the dog park. It was great fun.

Cherrie on the other hand, used it as a chance to clear her mind and as a chance to get fresh air. It was cathartic for her and so was the singing she did as she passed the other town dwellers. She didn’t care who heard her or what she sounded like. It was a good escape for her, and it brought her so much joy. The cutest thing about it is that every time she did this with Ziggy by her side, it almost looked like the pup was dancing along as he trotted beside her. His head would move side to side and his body would appear as though it was bopping along to whatever tune Cherrie was singing. They were perfect companion duo.

=

45 minutes, one missing tennis ball, two sticks collected and one large coffee later, Cherrie and Ziggy returned home. They had seen and done so much, and they were both feeling tired and were ready to warm up. Of course Ziggy was looking forward to getting cuddled up on the sofa whilst Cherrie worked on the puzzle she bought last year. She had wanted to complete it as soon as she got it but then her mind went to other things, and it got put into the game cupboard and hadn’t been touched since. Cherrie didn’t know how long her sanity would last with the puzzle, but she was determined to at least complete a good chunk of it so that she could leave the rest for the grumpy butt to complete while he was home and between jobs.

“Right Ziggy, come here.” Cherrie said as she got off her chair to charge it, before picking the damp dog up. She carried him inside and shut the door, locking it behind her.

“Oh good, you’re back.” Came a raspy voice.

“Yup but I’m tired and looking forward to a shower. It’s bloody cold out there and wet.” She replied as she placed Ziggy down. Big mistake. The pup decided that it would be a good time to shake out his fur and water went everywhere. On the walls of the entry way, on the rug and on Cherrie and on Taron as well.

“Oh well, thank you.” Taron grumbled as he wiped away a few droplets that had hit his face. Cherrie tried not to giggle as she too wiped droplets away.

“I’m going to make some coffee, want some?” Cherrie asked as she removed her coat and hung it on the peg.

“I suppose. I’m going for a shower.” Taron replied.

“Ok but first, can I have a kiss?” Cherrie asked, making Taron smile, as grumpy as he was.

Taron leaned forward and pecked her lips quickly. It would do for now.

“Thank you.” Cherrie said as Taron turned and bounded up the stairs.

=

Cherrie pottered around the kitchen as the coffee machine did it’s thing. She put together some sweets and baked goods on a plate so that she could enjoy them with her coffee and as she did her puzzle. It would give her energy and give her dopamine as well.

Once the treats were plated, Cherrie pulled out her phone to check and see if she had any Instagram messages. With no surprises, she didn’t have any messages but what she was met with was a very smoking hot picture of her boyfriend.

It was black and white, and he was sprawled out on a sofa wearing the softest looking cardigan and a pair of jeans. His hair was slightly disheveled and appeared to have curls in it….her favorite. This photo was drool worthy for sure.

Cheekily, she typed out a comment and posted it just as the coffee machine alerted her that the coffee was ready. She shut off her phone and set it on the counter, mentally fanning herself as she felt the familiar pulling in her lower belly every time she saw Taron in person or in hot picture form.

=

Meanwhile, Taron was drying off when he heard his phone buzz on the bedside table. He walked over to it and smirked when he saw it was the comment Cherrie left on his post. Boy was she going to get a surprise when she saw him wearing the cardigan and the jeans.

He had already asked the stylist while on set if he could have it as he knew Cherrie would love it. She had accepted and told him that she’d send it to him. He thanked her and while Cherrie was out on her walk this morning, it arrived. Taron had hurried to get it upstairs before Cherrie got home and thank goodness as well because she arrived home a couple minutes after he came downstairs from hiding it away in case.

Taron placed his phone back down and went back to drying off before he dressed himself and went to join Cherrie.

=

Walking downstairs as quietly as he could as to not disturb Cherrie, Taron saw her sitting at the table,  digging through the puzzle pieces as she tried to find another piece that would fit with the candle image she was currently attempting to build.

“Gotcha, you little fucker.” Cherrie shouted excitedly. She placed it in it’s proper spot and moved on.

Taron tried not to giggle at her outburst as he got into position on the sofa.

Ziggy yipped at Taron which made Cherrie grunt in annoyance.

“Ziggy, stop bar-“ She started as she turned to see Taron looking at her from the sofa.

Cherrie was at a loss for words. Her throat felt dry, and her body felt all warm and tingly.

“Well, are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to come and give me a kiss?” Taron said seductively.

Cherrie swallowed slowly. She was very turned on which made Taron smirk at her, which in turn made Cherrie blink slowly and bite her lower lip as she checked him out.

She moved from her chair and moved over to where he was and stood over him as he gently took her hand as he moved off the sofa to stand in front of her.

“Hello.” Cherrie muttered before her brain decided to join in on the party her body was feeling. She shook her head.

“I mean, oh my god.” She said as she let her fingers trail over the material of the brown cardigan. Of course that wasn’t all that she was feeling. She could feel the semi softness of his belly. Yes, he still had some muscle on his body but for the most part, he was back to his cuddly self at least for now.

Taron watched her through sultry eyes and sucked in a small breath as her hand grazed over his jean covered penis.

“This looks so good on you.” Cherrie whispered as their bodies drew closer together and their lips touched in a gentle yet hidden passion kiss. Their lips fitting together better than they remembered.

Taron’s hands went to both sides of Cherrie’s face as her hand gripped onto the cardigan as if she was afraid he’d disappear.

“But?” Taron mumbled against her lips. Cherrie pulled away enough to see his half open eyes.

“But it would look even better on the ground.” She replied.

Taron chuckled lightly and closed the gap between them again. One of his hands on her back pulling her in as his other hand tangled in her hair, keeping her in place.

Little by little, articles of clothing sat on the ground in a messy pile as the couple laid on the sofa. Cherrie under Taron as he kissed down her body. The scruff of his face tickling her skin in the best ways and the best part, the feeling of his bare erection rubbing against her inner most intimate parts.

“Feels so good.” Cherrie sighed out as she felt Taron’s right-hand travel down to her clit where it began to rub her tenderly.

Taron chuckled against her left breast as his tongue encircled her nipple, taking gentle nips here and there, making her back arch as a wave of ecstasy coursed through her veins.

“Stop teasing.” She whimpered. Taron moved from her chest to look up at her.

“I thought you liked being teased.” He said.

“I do but I just need to feel every inch of you in me.” She replied, making his body shudder at the image in his brain.

“You sure?” He asked and Cherrie nodded.

“Please.” She said breathily.

Taron removed his fingers from her clit and brought his hand up to his mouth so that he could lubricate his cock. Once he had the lubrication, he moved his fingers to wrap around himself. He stroked his penis a couple times before running the head of his penis against Cherrie, collecting her arousal before he slid into her.

Cherrie cried out as she felt him stretch her. It was a feeling that she would never get used to. It was like she was floating on air. It was sexy, magical, hot and passionate.

“Oh fuck.” She said as she felt him bottom out, his balls against her and the light smattering of his pubic hair rubbing against her as he took a few steady breaths.

“Ready?” He asked when he felt confident enough that he was going to cum.

“Hmmm.” Cherrie moaned, giving Taron the ‘all clear’.

Taron leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss as he began to pull out of her before steadily entering her again.

Soon enough he set a rhythm and both of them were moaning in tandem and Cherrie felt herself getting dangerously close to her orgasm.

“I’m so close.” She warned. Taron wasn’t having that, so he slowed right down, much to Cherrie’s dismay.

“Why did you do that?” She asked as he dragged out his movements.

“I’m not there yet.” He breathed out simply.

“Go back to that pace and you will be soon.” She said with a hint of mischief in her eye.

Instead of questioning her, he did as she said and just like she said, Taron quickly reached his climax at the same time as Cherrie, thanks to the fact that she delicately bit down on one of his nipples. It’s not something he ever thought he’d be into, but damn was it euphoric.

“Holy fuck.” Taron muttered as he buried his face in the crook of Cherrie’s neck.

“I couldn’t agree more. That was incredible.” She agreed.

“Give me a few minutes and we can go again.” Taron quipped making Cherrie giggle.

=

“You with me?” Layne asked as she sat on the other side of the computer screen during her and Cherrie’s daily call.

Cherrie shook her head.

“Yeah, sorry. My mind wandered there for a minute.” Cherrie replied.

“I could tell.” Layne chuckled, knowing exactly what Cherrie was thinking.

“It’s that bloody picture. It’s hot.” Cherrie told her friend.

Layne nodded.

“Tell me about it.” Layne said.

“The black and white doesn’t help either.” Cherrie said and Layne nodded again in agreement.

“Oh for sure. It really suites him.” Layne replied.

The friends talked for a little longer before Cherrie declared her need for a coffee. They hung up and Cherrie went to the kitchen to make her coffee and day dream some more.

 ===

Tag List: @geo-winchester @elizami11s​

[ziggyjustice]

In a messy bedroom, Ziggy leans forward, resting his head in his hands. Anxiety is throbbing through his veins, burning a hole in his chest. The same thoughts and feelings play on repeat, mounding in pressure on each pass through his mind. Blinking back tears, Ziggy’s hazel eyes are red and bleary. Tired. Searching, but seeing very little in the way of answers. Only more weight, more strain, and more complications.

Whatever he does, it will never be sufficient to fill the hole that was dug early in his life. Almost forty years of life have proven this point. Ziggy doesn't blame his father who dug that hole or his mother who stood by and watched it all happen. They did the best they could. Even after realizing all the damage they had done to Ziggy and his sister, and then working so hard to fix things; certain wounds just won’t heal. This hole was Ziggy's now, as strange as it is that the absence of something can be considered part of it.

So, on nights like tonight, he wrestles with the worthlessness inherent to his psyche. However, rationalizing the emotion and drawing a point to the source provides no comfort. Emotions don't follow rational lines nor are they predictable. It's not a choice he gets to make, whether to experience them or not. They simply happen, no matter how much effort he makes to overcome them. It will never be enough. More precisely, Ziggy will never be enough. No to himself.

That perhaps is the most difficult part. Pushing hard to make up for his inadequacy makes others think highly of him. But it’s impossible to share their opinion, no matter how many times nor how genuinely it is expressed. The inequity between their opinion of him and his own generates anxiety, nervousness, and eventually anguish. He lives like an impostor on the edge of being found out. ”When will this image collapse,” he thinks. “When will they see me as I see myself? As nothing. Nameless. Worthless.”

Ziggy knows it is irrational. He knows that he isn't any of those things. But despite the irrationality, the emotion doesn't change. Every path leads to the same pit. Piling on achievements and accolades accomplishes nothing. The darkness of the empty hole consumes all.

It isn't funny, but he laughs anyway. Soon he would get what he wanted. No one would think anything of him ever again. He closes his eyes and breathes slowly. Subconsciously, his hands close into fists. Ziggy's body feels light. Weightless. Almost ready to rise out of his chair. Gripping the edges of reality he pulls sharply and disappears, folding out of existence.

[walks-the-ages]

Okay so ANYWAYS.

Quantum Leap.

My "this was meant to be a funny shit post but now I'm taking it super seriously" prompt has officially been incorporated into my little daydream Quantum Leap AU+Rewrite+Post Canon Universe.

it's sometime after my rewrite of the whole mess that is Last Dance Before An Execution (through) Shock Theater. (LDBAE-ST)

4x01 just straight up goes off the rails because none of that made sense except for the parts I'm keeping for Future Sam to deal with.

Anyways. During the New Events that happen to replace The Leap Back, Sam starts having very strange dreams and hearing [more] voices-- and the calls not coming from inside the house either, he already checked with the others!

Nope. Instead, he suddenly has spirits communicating with him in his dreams, showing up every night throughout the Leap, trying to ask him something but he can never quite make out what they're saying.

His lack of proof (or actual, meaningful communication) leaves Al skeptical of his claims and tells him they just need to get more sleep in this Leap while they can still can.

The Leap continues in whatever plot I decide at the eventual-maybe time of writing, and it's not until the very end of the Leap, when Sam has been knocked unconscious by the antagonist, that he's able to fully understand the spirits who are reaching out to him.

Al in the outside world is frantically trying to wake Sam up so he can go like, rescue a man who's been cartoonishly tied to some train tracks or something, idk.

Anyways, Sam wakes up, saves the guy, fixes what went wrong, and Leaps.

Weeks go by, as they always do before Ziggy can locate Sam's temporal signature again.

But weeks turn into months.

And suddenly, it's New Years Eve at Project Quantum Leap, only no one feels like celebrating, because Sam is still missing in between Leaps. This is the longest he's ever been "in between" and everyone is starting to get worried.

Then, right as the clock strikes midnight, Ziggy sends out an alert--

She's found Dr. Sam Beckett.

Except his brain wave and vital signs are off the charts, and something is messing with her system and "Admiral, we need you in the Imaging Chamber NOW! We don't know what's happening to Sam but you're the only one who can tell us what's wrong!."

Al, of course, is already sprinting down the corridors to the Imaging Chamber, more than halfway there.

Al bursts into the Imaging Chamber and the new Leap materializes around him as the Chamber powers up and sprawled on a carpeted floor of a bedroom is a young woman, blankets tangled around her legs, pajama suit rumpled, and sobbing.

After the traumatic shit show that was LDBAE-ST, Al has had to take multiple sessions with Dr. Verbena Beeks himself to deal with the fallout of what *Sam* has gone through, (not to mention dealing with the shell shock from the war), so Al is fairly confident he'll be able to help guide his friend through whatever kind of panic or anxiety attack they're having and help them calm down , and usually seeing that Al is there at all is some kind of comfort so he circles around and starts reassuring them he's here --

Only to not get the reaction he was expecting.

"Syl? Sylvi? Veon! Syl vee, vee, veon!" The woman on the floor exclaims and tries to hug him, then looks embarrassed when that fails to work "Vee, sylvi, veon, Syl. Vee Sylve, onn vee Sylvi."

Al just stares, because clearly, this is Sam. But for the life of him, Al can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Sam tilts their head in confusion at Al's flabbergasted look, "Sylveon?" They finally enquire.

.

.

[aka Sam Leaps into Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Red Rescue Team / Rescue Team DX and lives out not only the entire main storyline but also all of the post game content until he finally passed of old age with his Partner at his side and only then did he Leap back into canon

but he spent more than a human lifetime there and doesn't realize he's speaking Pokespeak lolol.

Don't worry! It's fine! He still knows English he just has to jog his memory of how to speak it.

Oh, and how to walk on two legs again lol.

Also becoming a Pokemon is what unlocks his ability to Leap into earth animals later.

Anyways, Sam is an Eevee in Rescue Team Verse and so is his Partner!

Sam eventually evolves into Sylveon (aka the trans pride Eeveelution)

and his Partner, Eevee, because of Sam's presence in that world, evolves into [REDACTED].

[riley-macnally]

tag: @dianabrooks​ location: joel’s house

-

“Ay, big man... You here?” Riley calls out as he walks in, who knocked these days anyway. He hears Ziggy, or at least he thinks it’s Ziggy with her ‘sup fucker’ catch phrase, until a little blonde walks out the living room. “Lilypad? The fuck are you doing home?” Shocked to see her but pleased no less, he greets her with a warm hug. Their exchange is short and sweet as she has a friend waiting for her outside, a passing agreement to catch up at some point through the week. The information that Joel wasn’t here but Diana was now the only reason he wasn’t leaving the house with her. “Diana Brooks, get your hands off those chips. Or at least share the goods.” Leaning against the frame of the kitchen door, he smiles, the same way he had been smiling for the last few weeks, genuine, but always a little dead behind the eyes. “I can offer you one of your brothers drinks in exchange?” Chuckling, he moves to go help himself to whatever was in the fridge. 

[y0yage]

Day #Lalalalalla

I went to like a restaurant and was trying to figure out what to order but I was so conflicted so I kept staring at the menu and looking at the waiter and it had been like 15 mins so I was like whatever I’ll just call him over. And then he was helping me with my order but I didn’t have anything to order so I was really confused and like lagging and like smiling a bunch and it was so funny . And then I ordered like some drink and he’s like saying he doesn’t recommend it and I just looked at him and was like smirking LMAO … and he’s Likei. Really don’t recommend it three times and I was trying to process how to respond cuz I was like why is he acting like he’s the ceo of ordering… then I was like it’s okay… I’ll just order it.. and then I just finished ordering while laughing crazy in the midst of doing so

Then was on call w my friends and mr bellpeppa, he was making me laugh like crazy cuz he was talking about side eye sunny and black eye ziggy and hide eye bunny and the deer named cardi B but I actually came up w the deer name and 3 Hollis and 4 Hollis LOLOLOL omz..

Umm I forgot what else I was gonna say

Oh omfg LOL after eating I was sooo tired cuz I hadn’t slept since 10 pm and it was around 4, I planned to go to the library but I literally passed out at home… but before going home I went inside this like u know sex store to look at accessories but I felt so awkward cuz it’s conservative as here . Then when I went inside I was looking at costumes and the lady was telling me which ones to buy and was like , guys like it more when you take photos in these~~ 💀💀 help. Laday I’m not taking pictures for no man 😂😂

I was just like 😅😅 haha thank you…

But I bought like this rlly cute set I will post maybe in a few days yay ~ or probably never

Things I wanna do when I go to nyc:

Eat steak, eat everything in the world

[netflixonyourcouch]

The Wire Season 2, E1 - E5

Ah yes, The Wire Season 2. One of the more maligned seasons of The Wire - for no good damn reason, but maligned by the public nonetheless. As I sit here still binging Season 2 at the same speed that I binged Season 1 (maybe even faster?), I would love to give Season 2 the justice that it deserves. Spoilers from here on out since if you're reading this it's assumed you've seen the show. If you haven't, back away from this and watch it? What are you waiting for lol.

First of all, dammit, the biggest reason why this season still kicks ass is that there are a lot of different narrative threads that pulls your attention into several different directions and expects you to keep up.

There's this business with Barksdale and the animosity that he's facing with his jailtime, as well as showing again how corruption and dysfunction is the order of the day within the prison system. Avon devises a scheme that dirties up a CO by making him unwittingly distribute a bad batch of heroin. And then he delivers the CO to the warden or whatever. If this seems hella convenient, don't worry, the show itself comments on the fact that the prison leadership must know it's Avon who spiked the heroin, but they're so concerned with getting the mess off their plate, they go along with his plan anyway.

Then there is the new crew that we spend time with at the docks. Now, a bunch of people close-mindedly didn't like these characters because they were white and they just expected The Wire to be a gangster rap video for 5 seasons straight, even though it's so blatantly obvious that it's more than that. But our dock crew is supposed to be white, because there's lessons in that: namely, that poverty isn't just a black thing, and also to represent the "everyman" which - and I make no judgment her - is defaulted to be a white male. They represent the falsehood of the American dream through poor white America.

With the dock crew, Simon and co. give us two cases to chew on: The sham case against Sobotka from Valchek where his only crime is being more Catholic than Valchek, and also the business with the dead girls in the can.

With all of this going on simultaneously, you still have the drama within the police department and potential org chart changes with Burrell and Daniels incoming. Also, they continue to drill the point home about how the police just love to pass the buck and try to get out of working cases because "reasons"

My biggest gripe was and still is Ziggy Sobotka. He's sort of a tragic character I guess? But he's so damn stupid and annoying that it's hard to feel much sympathy for him. He's the Jar Jar Binks of The Wire for sure, lol.

[dilcne]

Lorna would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy that her night with Ziggy bothered Aeris. She knew his hatred for the man went much deeper than that, but that didn't mean she didn't selfishlessly like the jealously that he showed towards her and his old friend. Aer wasn't hers, and she wasn't his, but it damn sure felt like it sometimes.

She rolled her eyes, and then shot him a cold stare. "Yes, like Ziggy." She fired back sarcastically, but couldn't resist rubbing salt in the wound. What was he going to do? Walk away? Fat chance of that, due to their current situation.

It's when he started to blame her for their predicament, that she rose to her feet and took a step closer in his direction, with an accusatory finger pointing towards him.

"It's not my fault." She defended, however, her voice remained calm despite her actions. "You shouldn't have kicked her, you shouldn't have made her come down here. This is entirely all on you."

And she believed it, because they wouldn't have been in this mess if he hadn't have been such a brute.

"Maybe I'm your karma. You've got it twisted, maybe... someone up there - " She pointed to the dusty ceiling. " - has decided they've had enough of your shit, and you have to talk to me. And we both know how much you hate talking about feelings, I don't even think you have any." Her tone became snarkier with each passing word, as she remembered the last time they spoke. "Oh wait, unless you think I'm about to fuck someone you don't like. Then you seem to have a lot of feelings... it's almost like you're worried, Aer. Are you worried Ziggy would be a better fuck than you?"

Her head tilted as she pursed her lips. She'd never slept with Ziggy. As much as it killed her to ever admit it again, there was only one man she wanted in her bed. Not even to do with whatever feelings she'd tried to surpress... Aeris knew what she liked, where she wanted to be touched, where it felt good. The familiarity alone was enough to draw her back to him.

"Do you want me to answer that for you?" She took another step, and another. "You've got nowhere to run."

@aeris-flores

"What, you mean like ZIggy?"

It comes out faster than Aeris can filter that thought out, because venom is evident in his voice at the mere mention of his ex-best friend's name. He never did wear jealousy well.

Aeris freezes up for a few moments there, hoping it's let go as quickly as it had been said. Aeris knows better than to get into it when there doesn't seem to be any means of escape anytime soon. He tries to push the window open again, but it only creaks in disdain. Wonderful.

He wonders how much it would cost to replace if he were to just smash it...

Aeris huffs, stepping back and trying to work through to some solution. It's barely working, because all he can think about is being trapped, which alone is terrible, but Lornas off muttering something about strings and him being an asshole.

"You're ridiculous. It's no karmic retri-whatever, it's because you dragged me down in here when I could've pulled you out, and we would've been on our way. I shouldn't have even told you Maple ran down here."

He'll see to it the next time one of her precious cats gets into trouble he won't peep a word about it. Turn a blind eye and all. Not his cats, not his problem.

( It's a lie because Aeris has grown fond of them all - it's why his pantry has some cans of wet food stashed away for when any of them visit. )

"What if it's that I'm your karma for you being crazy about everything. Silent treatment and all and acting like I owed you something. That bad juju is coming back, and now you have to talk to me."

Aeris paces and then decides to settle up against the wall across from Lorna, his arms crossed and his eyes trained on the slivers of light coming through the window.

"If Maple pops out, just know, we're eating you before we both starve to death."

@dilcne

[meduseld]

Anyway my new headcanon is that Nurse Mary Lane took the book at the end of Fear Street, for non-nefarious purposes. 

Not only is it a nice parallel to the book being in “the Widow’s” possession but you know that when Ziggy brought her notebook, she realized no one got The Devil’s Dayplanner and the cops can’t be trusted even if Goode is gone and the lady knew her tunnels. 

Plus we don’t know if the book can be destroyed and no one had reason to suspect her anyway so it’s hidden away in her house under a mound of sweaters like a low budget version of the Warrens’ museum/vault of evil objects.