#as if i wasn’t gonna froth at the mouth when i see the

[majorbisexualpanic]

ME: *about to go to bed* ah yes i’m going to sleep early tonight and be fully rested for classes tomorrow.

DREAM: *the motherfucker that he is drops these photos unprompted*

ME: *eyes snap open* something just happened

[surielstea]

Words on Paper

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.

Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)

1k words

You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.

"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.

The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.

Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.

So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?

"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.

It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.

Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.

“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.

“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.

“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.

You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.

“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.

It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.

“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”

“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe

[thegaysinmyhead]

Obsession PT 2

Danny was freaking the fuck out. Considering he spent the last few weeks in a lab being picked, prodded, and vivisected, he feels like he deserves a little bit of a freakout. But trauma-related things aside, Danny was freaking out over this hot-as-hell baddie who saved him. Like, holy shit! This guy’s biceps were bigger than his head, and he would really really like to have his head placed between those thighs.

Holy fuck. His knight in shining red armor was going to fully kill him for how fucking sexy he was. That gruff voice? The tight muscle shirt? The beautiful cheekbones hidden slightly under his mask? Danny was going to die a second death and he wasn’t even going to complain, not if it was this guy doing it.

Danny was thirsting so hard he almost missed what the man was saying.

“–Red Hood. Answer my first question, why do the Pits react to you,”

Red Hood? The Red Hood? Ancients, Sam was going to froth at the mouth when he tells her that Red Hood saved him and was hot as fuck.

“I don’t know what ‘the Pits’ are, dude. The only thing that reacts like that to ectoplasm is more ectoplasm, and that’s the only thing that’s reacting to me. You’re like, constantly angry,” Danny grimaced at the fresh wave of hot rage.

Damn, he wishes there was more reacting to him.

“The Pits. Lazarus Water. The green shit you got all over the floor and my fucking hands when I carried you here,” The vigilante (crime lord?) growled.

Fuck that growl is hot. He wants Red Hood to growl like that in his ear, wants to know what he sounds like when those growls break into whimpers, wants to taste that growl–

“That’s ectoplasm, kinda makes up my whole body in this form so it’s not like I choose to bleed it. Trust me, I’d bleed regular blood if I could. Blood stains are so much easier to get out of my clothes,”

Danny could tell Red Hood was glaring at him underneath his domino, and he was gonna have a problem in his pants if the other man didn’t turn away soon. 

“Why. Do. The. Pits. React. To. You,” The vigilante growled out slowly, teeth clicking together in what sounded almost painful. Danny had no idea what he was supposed to say. The man in front of him had obviously died before and came back, but the ectoplasm felt more like a contaminated blob than a full ghost. He couldn’t even see the ghost core underneath all the gunk, even if he could feel it. Red Hood’s core felt…just as angry as when Danny felt it earlier.

How do you give Ghost Biology 101 to a pissed-off guy with a gun who probably had death-related trauma?

“So…I’m just gonna be as blunt as possible and hope you don’t shoot me,”

Red Hood glared harder, his core thrumming ANGER-CONFUSION-ANGER as Danny flipped to sit cross-legged above the couch. He pinched his face together to think about the best place to start, but realized the worst part should probably get put out of the way first. He did say he was going to be as blunt as possible.

“So, you died—” Almost as quick as he said it there was a bullet grazing through his shoulder and embedding into the wall behind him. Thank fuck for intangibility. The crime lord’s core thrummed louder, a garbled mimic of a ghost growl as green blinked behind red lenses.

“Yeah, I know how you feel man. Dying really, really sucks,” Danny murmured before lowering fully onto the couch. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“–But, that’s probably the start of what I need to tell you, unless you’ve come in contact with glowing green water beforehand?” 

The vigilante grit his teeth, but shook his head no.

“Right, so. You died–and I’m not gonna ask or make assumptions about it! I get it. But, when you got pulled from wherever you were before…you didn’t exactly…come back all the way,” He finished his sentence with a murmur, but the silence of the apartment made sure it was heard easily. A deep frown etched itself onto Red Hood’s face.

“Come back all the way? What kind of bullshit is that? You’re dead or you’re not, even I’ve met ghosts and shit that proves that,” 

Red Hood’s met ghosts? Hopefully none from the Ghost Zone, they’d probably tear him to pieces in a ghost brawl with how weak his ectoplasm is. Might make this explanation easier though.

Danny wrung his hands together before shrugging awkwardly, “Not…exactly? Death is more of a spectrum than a black-and-white kinda thing. You can lean towards one side or the other, sometimes being fully on one side, but it’s supposed to be impossible to sit on both at the same time. That’s…kinda where I come in?”

The halfa shifted while looking anywhere but the crime boss in front of him, lips tucked into a silent whistle as his core hummed anxiously. Danny could tell Red Hood was getting impatient, but he didn’t expect to have to show a solid 12/10 hot piece of ass his human form right after getting away from a GIW base! Sue him, he needs a minute!

With a groan, Danny flung himself into a stand. He rubbed a hand down his face while chanting “Please don’t be naked, please don’t be naked,”

A bright light filled the room before Red Hood could react or question the mumbling, and when the light finally faded he blinked rapidly to get rid of black spots. In the place Danny stood moments before was an individual with black hair, blue eyes, and very very tattered clothing. The cloth (if it could even be called that at this point) looked as if it used to be a NASA hoodie and black jeans, and duct-taped red sneakers sat on the new man’s feet. Blood stains were covering most of the fabric, and the man sheepishly scratched the back of his head. A bright red blush was spreading across his cheeks to slightly pointed ears.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot the last time I was in this form. At least I’m not naked?” The new man (Danny?) said with a small smile.

“Wait, wait, wait–” Jason raised his hands in a stopping motion with a shake of his head, “–what the fuck do you mean ‘this form’?”

(Supposedly) Danny just tilted his head before placing his hands on his hips. He tipped his head up and pursed his lips in thought, “Well, that was technically my ghost form before? This is my human form… and oh jeez, I feel like I skipped like a hundred slides of the Ghost Biology PowerPoint,” Danny mumbled while hiding his face between his hands.

Jason slid a still-clawed hand over his eyes, frustration building, but surprisingly no green was threatening his vision. Small mercies, “Ghost? So, you’re a ghost?” he questioned slowly.

“Only half ghost…”

Jason took a deep breath and deadpanned, “How the fuck can you be ‘half ghost’,”

Danny looked like he swallowed a lemon as he went silent. There seemed to be a silent debate going on in the man's head as the thing in Jason’s chest rumbled with RAGE-FRUSTRATION-WORRY. Danny seemed to come to a decision as he finally spoke.

“Well…same way you did? Kind of a Schrödinger cat situation. Do you really not notice anything ghostly that you do? Like–hiding better than you ever did before, shadows clinging to you in ways that seem unnatural, attacks on you not hitting their mark even though you know they should have?”

Jason paused, shoulders tightening with tension. He never really thought about it, but those words stirred something in his brain. Bullets that should’ve definitely hit him dead on were usually explained away with the distance between him and the gun shooting at him, but the times he was barely holding onto a hiding spot and wondering how the hell he wasn’t caught? The warm embrace of Gotham at night when shadows were everywhere and he was swinging and jumping through rooftops? Jumps no normal human would’ve been able to make unless they were a meta? 

He knew the Pit had changed him; his eyes glowed green when he felt emotions too strong, his body filled out with more muscle than he knew what to do with, and he was straining the edge between trained strength and superhuman. Now…now he isn’t really sure what the Pits did to him…

“–And if I say I have? Noticed… ‘ghostly’ things I do?”

The black-haired man just gave him a bright smile, “Well, then that probably just makes it easier to accept what comes next,”

“What comes next?” Jason blinked.

“Yeah. Because, again, sir, your ectoplasm is rancid. Disgustingly rancid. I’m filtering as much of it as I can, but you need a doctor like yesterday,”

Jason could feel the frustration growing again. This guy just did not know how to give good explanations, “What do you mean you’re ‘filtering’ it?” He said through gritted teeth. His jaw suddenly felt like it was too small for his molars, and his gums burned worse than when his wisdom teeth needed to get removed. Danny just waved off his building anger.

“Exactly that, dude. I’m pulling the toxic stuff into me and pushing the cleaner stuff back to you. It’s not pure ectoplasm, we’d probably need to go to the Ghost Zone for that, but you should feel a whole lot better than you did before,”

And Jason…Jason did actually feel a whole lot better. There wasn’t an angry voice whispering in the back of his mind that he needed to spill blood, and he wasn’t fighting off an indescribable rage with every ounce of his willpower. He felt better than the best days of dealing with the Pit and then some. But what the fuck was a ‘Ghost Zone’? Danny must’ve seen the confusion from his frown because he was speaking again.

“–Shit, I’m really bad at explaining things, sorry. The Ghost Zone is basically where most ghosts, or ‘ecto-plasmic beings’ depending on who you ask, live–and usually–stay. The atmosphere is pretty much pure ectoplasm because everything there is made of ectoplasm. Like how everything alive here is made of carbon,” Danny waved his arms around awkwardly as he spoke, back squished tightly against the cushions of the couch. His fists were clenched white with nerves.

Jason nodded. That made sense…kind of. He was still wrapping his head around the whole ‘half-ghost’ thing, honestly. He was also wondering how the fuck that was possible and why this guy thinks he’s one.

“You said I’m like you?” 

Danny nodded, before thinking for a moment and shrugging, “Not exactly. I can tell whatever you went through never let you finish forming a core, but if your core does fully develop you’ll end up with ghost powers, probably. You’d also be able to actually filter the ectoplasm in your system, which means you won’t have to deal with all that junk,” he said while waving a vague fully-encompassing hand motion at him.

Jason squinted his eyes at Danny from behind his mask, but he couldn’t detect a single lie from the man. After a long moment, he sighed and slumped back in the recliner. He covered his face with one of his hands and murmured, “–And what’s a core?”

Danny froze before blushing and looking away in embarrassment. Jason doesn’t know how he knows Danny’s embarrassed.

“I’m…I’m just gonna pull up the Ghost Biology presentation. You got a laptop?”

Pt 1, Pt 3

Masterpost

[sim0nril3y]

GIRL I LOVE YOUR WORK. YOU'RE AMAZING.

I love your series ghost x civilian and I wanted to see you writing about Simon getting jealous. Love the way you express words girl, you had me screaming, giggling and kicking my feet the whole series.

Note: You're so cuuuuuuuuuute! Thank you, thank you for your kind words ily and thank you for the wonderful request, I loooooove a jealous bigboy <3<3<3 Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, mentions of jealousy, mentions of oral (male receiving), one little spank, canon-typical swearing.

With the little regard and car that you put into your car it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise when it just stopped working. Simon had tried arguing that the damn thing was a money-pit, just sell it for scrap and get yourself something new and safe, with all the mod-cons. You, on the other hand, argued that it had sentimental value, so off it went to a local mechanic who you awaited a whopping bill from.

In the meantime, Simon was picking up the slack of driving you back and forth to all your appointments, sending back parcels, picking up food shopping or simply waking him up in the dead of night from a deep slumber for the whims of late night food cravings.

One evening in particular you had stepped into the lounge looking absolutely mouth-watering in a pair of form fitting gym leggings, the damn things hugged all of your curves in a way that had Simon gazing a little too intensely. “Si…” Your voice cut through, smirking as his dark eyes flit up from observing your hips and thighs to be gazing into your eyes instead, brows raised in surprise and asking. “What was that, love?” It made you simmer with pride as Simon wasn't typically someone who got distracted like that, but it seemed like you simply standing here had him practically frothing at the mouth.

“I said…” You drew out the words playfully. “Would you mind dropping me off at the gym? I have a session with my personal trainer.” This was something new that you had started, only a few sessions in but Simon was encouraging your interest. He thought that your body was perfect the way it but he liked to support your good habits. “Right…” When you had originally mentioned wanting to go to the gym Simon had thrown his hat into the ring, offering to help you but with the way he reacted to you dressed up in leggings it seemed you made the right choice to go elsewhere, what he had planned wasn’t particularly the workout that you had been thinking about. “Course, just let me get my jacket.”

With a little noise of effort Simon pulled himself up off the sofa, stepping past you and smirking to himself as his eyes lingered on your rear. “Oh and don’t forget-” Turning you caught his eyes flitting up again from his gaze and you smirked, quirking a brow at him. “Were you staring at my bum?” “I was admiring, babe…” He took a couple slow steps towards you, stopping when he was finally mere inches from you. “Y’look fuckin’ good…” Large hands captured your hips, winding down to cup your rear in his hands, gripping at it playfully. “I’ll be late~”

“I’ll be quick.” Simon groaned softly, yanking you up into his arms then, legs tied around his waist as you squeaked in surprise. “Simon~” You giggled uncontrollably as he lead you back towards the sofa, dropping you and watching you bounce against the cushions softly. “I can’t show up at the gym smelling of sex!” You giggled, watching him pushing down his jogging bottoms to his midthigh, smiling down at you, reaching a hand forward to stroke his thumb against your throat. “Pretty girl, they aren’t gonna know if I’ve been down your throat, will they…”

Dropping you outside the gym Simon watched with adoration as you rushed inside, blowing him a multitude of kisses in his direction before finally through the sliding doors. For a few moments Simon lingered, waiting until you were safely inside the building before beginning to drive away. A flash of a phone screen illuminated from the seat beside him and Simon glanced over to see your phone lingering there. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered; it wouldn’t be possible to call him later to pick you up if you didn’t have that.

A moment later he pulled into the gym car park, collecting your phone and entering the gym in search of you. It was fancy in there. It all smelt so new and fresh, the floors practically sparkling. All the machines looked barely used and they all seemed to work. This was nothing like the gym that Simon went to across town, that was a run-down old boxing gym, there he felt like he fit in but here Simon really felt like he stood out amongst all the pretty looking gym-goers.

Shrugging off his initial discomfort Simon began to walk onto the main gym floor in search of you. Eyes lingering over all the different people, stepping past all the doors that lead to the class rooms and private areas and finally looking through one window to see you inside, on the ground stretching diligently. There you were on all fours, arms and torso stretched out in front of you, knees spread wide with your bum raised up. Simon felt fury spread through him as he looked behind you and spotted a man knelt between your legs, hands on your hips and talking to you, adjusting your stance to put you into a deeper stretch.

A moment later Simon opened the door loudly and stepped into the room, your trainer looked up in surprise and then you followed. A delighted gasp found your lips as you scrambled to your feet and then wrapped your arms around him a moment later. His arms possessively wrapped around your frame, holding you tight to his strong body and setting a cold pair of eyes on the man who was slowly pulling himself to his feet. “Simon, what are you doing here?”

“Left your phone.” His voice was even as he placed it into your hands as you pulled away from the hug. “Thanks.” You grinned up at him before following his gaze over your shoulder. “Oh, babe… This is Andy, my personal trainer.” You announced, gesturing to the man who was awkwardly standing aside. “This is my boyfriend, Simon.”

Awkwardly the younger man nodded, holding out a hand in his direction for Simon to clasp into his own, using all his strength to shake it and causing Andy to tug away sharply from the pain, though Andy never said a word simply smiled tightly. “Weren’t sure you were real, mate; a lot of my girls tells me they have boyfriends and it turns out not to be true.” Andy shrugged and Simon hummed. “Mmm, probably don’t wanna be leered at whilst they are working out.” Then narrowing his dark eyes.

Sensing some type of tension, you glanced between them and blinked slowly before looking at Simon. “Maybe I’ll just call you when I’m done? Or they have a café... you could get a tea, if you like?” You suggested, rubbing his arm soothingly, trying to get his attention again. This was unusual. It wasn’t like Simon was the jealous type, he was certainly possessive when he wanted to be, but something about Andy must have really set him off because even though Simon didn’t particularly like affection in public his hands stayed tied tight around your waist.

“Maybe I could stay…” Simon shrugged off his hoody then, throwing it aside nearby your stuff. “If you don’t mind, mate?” He looked at Andy who frowned heavily and cleared his throat. “Well, you aren’t a member-” “I actually have some guest passes.” You quipped sweetly and then adding with a shrug. “We could pay for a double session, if it’s trouble having us both…”

Andy didn't seem to like the idea but the money finally made him agree. “Whatever. It’s your session.” Then turning on his heel. “Why don’t you continue your stretches. I’ll get us some equipment.” Stepping from the room and allowing the door to swing closed behind him.

When you two were finally alone you finally spoke. “What do you think you’re doing exactly?” Quirking a brow and resuming your stretches, Simon joined in half-heartedly. “What am I doing? What did he think he was doing? Putting his fuckin’ hands all over you.” Simon grumbled, feeling his shoulders tensing. “Lucky, I didn’t break his fuckin’ hand…” He commented under his breath and you fought a smile before looking over at him.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Quirking a brow at him causing him to look at you sharply. “Don’t be stupid, of course not.” He grumbled lowly. It cause you to giggle sweetly, sauntering towards him and wrapping your arms around his bulky frame. “There anything to be jealous of?” Then looking down at you intensely. “Of course not.” You giggled. “I’m surprise you even had to ask that question considering I had you cock down my throat an hour ago…”

You watched the way his lips twitched to fight a smile. “Shut up.” He grumbled, which caused a bright giggle to pull from your throat. Turning your back to him was a mistake because not a moment later Simon’s hand sharply found your rear, clapping a hand against your cheek and causing you to squeak and jump away from him. “You just wait until I get you home, good thing you streched considering the positions I'll be putting you in…”

Masterlist | Ask | 24-11-2023

[backtothefanfiction]

In Your Boss’s Office | Peter Parker Imagine

Summary: When your boyfriend comes to take you home after a late night at the office, he sees an opportunity to send your boss mad.

Warnings: smut, P in V, semi public sex, office sex, cum swallowing, oral (female receiving), dirty talk

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Okay so I have been trying to get this one finished for a while. This was supposed to be day 5 of Kinktober but we all know that went off the rails. I was gonna turn it into kink til Christmas but that isn’t gonna work out either. So this is me saying that the kink list is getting thrown out the window completely, but I will still write some of the stories as prompts and short imagines as there were a couple I was looking forward to but no idea when they’ll go up. Anyway, this was one of the ideas I was really looking forward to writing so I hope you enjoy!

You had been the only one in the office for at least an hour and a half, despite your boss leaving nearly 3 hours prior. It was dark outside, you were tired, you were missing your man but you knew that if you didn’t get this list for Jameson completed now, you’d all be really behind tomorrow.

There was a sudden ding as the elevator stopped on your floor. Given the time you fully expected it to be the janitor, coming by to give things a clean and empty the waste paper baskets, but you were surprised at the sight of your boyfriend walking towards your desk.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he asked, “I think the real question is what are you still doing here?”

You had met Peter around 6 months ago now, when you had first taken on the job as J. Jonah Jameson’s assistant after the last one quit on him. He had expected you to also follow suit, he wasn’t exactly known for being the nicest boss after all; but you gave as good as you got and the head of the Daily Bugle admired that. Peter was a freelance photographer, stopping by every now and again with a new batch of photos of Spider-man that always made your boss both froth at the mouth and get literal dollar signs in his eyes.

“What time is it?” you asked, but you already knew.

“It’s time to log off.” he softly chastised and encouraged you.

“Uhh, Pete, I really need to get this done.”

“Fine. You have until I finish putting these photos on his lordship’s desk.” He said, pulling out a manilla envelope full of new pictures of Spiderman.

“Peter, you can’t go in there.” you tried to interject as he began to reach for the door handle to the office.

“Just watch me.” He said, turning the knob, pushing the door open and going in.

“Peter.” you chastise as you get up to follow him and make sure he wasn’t going to touch anything he shouldn’t.

When you got in the room he was already sat behind the desk, lounging back in the large leather swivel chair, swaying side to side. “You know, I see why he likes this office so much now.” he says as his eyes glance over pieces of paper on the desk.

“Come on.” you try to encourage him, “We shouldn’t be in here.”

“Make me.” he challenges with a smirk on his face. You really don’t want to find out what that smirk means, you just want to finish your list of tasks and go home but he does look good sitting behind the desk. His eyes are watching your legs closely as you hesitate in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other in tiny motions. He leans forward placing both of his hands on the desk. “Close the door.” He instructs and you do. “Now come over here.” Your brain knows it’s a bad idea but you do.

He moves the chair back slightly as his hand reaches out to guide you round the back of the desk with him. When you are close enough he turns you and backs you into the desk. You hesitate at first but with further encouragement by his hands and the wicked look in his eye, you sit yourself on top of the desk. He hums slightly as his hands rest on your knees, pulling them open, then using his grip on them, pulls the wheelie chair closer to the desk, leaving you nowhere else to go.

“Peter, what are you doing?” You ask with a shaky breath as he starts to run his hands up your thighs and under your skirt.

“You work too hard for little reward.” He says as his fingertips reach to hook beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Peter!” You interject, trying to push him away but he holds you still.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He teases. “He’ll never know.”

“Yes he will.” You try to hold strong, but his fingers are drawing lazy circles on your thighs that are relaxing you and wearing you down.

“But isn’t that more fun. He won’t know it was us, he’ll just come in tomorrow and he’ll know something is off but he won’t be able to put his finger on it.”

“Pete… Pete.” You try to say but your resolve is fading with his touch and when he tries again to pull your underwear down, you don’t stop him.

“Just relax okay. I’ve got you.” He said as he pulled you closer to the end of the desk. “So pretty.” He cooed as he looked up at you.

He pushed your legs up, your feet resting on the arms of the large swivel chair he sat in, as he leant forward, his tongue teasing at your clit, making you squirm. His hands held tighter to your hips, holding you in place as he began to lick through your folds.

“For someone who was putting up a lot of protest, you seem to be awfully wet for me.” He teased with raised eyebrows as his fingers moved to circle at your entrance before slipping inside, his fingers working you open.

“Uhhh, Peter.” You began to pant, as the movement of his fingers pulls tiny whimpers from between your lips.

You watch as his other hand begins to fumble with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending another wave of arousal through you. He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, palming his length through his boxers.

Normally Peter would spend ages going down on you, making you cum and soaking his fingers with your slick before he even thought about fucking you, but you didn’t have time. Although it was late and no one else was in the office, the janitor could come up to this floor and walk in at any minute and Peter knew it was taking a lot for you to go through with this without pushing his luck.

“Come here baby.” He said, pulling his length out of his boxers and sliding the chair back slightly.

You happily moved to straddle his thighs. You slowly lowered yourself down on his length. You were so close and he was so deep in this position. It didn’t leave much room for movement, just subtle gyrating, your clit rubbing against the small patch of exposed skin between his jeans and shirt.

It made you so sensitive, your head nuzzling into his neck as you quietly whined and moaned.

“You naughty little thing. See I knew this was what you needed.” Peter said as he slowly thrusted his hips up inside you. It wasn’t his preferred pace but he knew you loved it. To be close to him. To have his cock rubbing against the most sensitive parts of you. To feel every little twitch you made around him. It was intimate. “You gonna come for me?” He asked. He could read your body like a book and knew from just the pitch of your moans alone you were close. “Come on baby. Cum for me.” He encouraged as he guided your hips up and down on his length harder and harder. “Cum for me baby and then I can turn you around and fuck you right over his desk. How does that sound?” You could only moan in response. His words always brought you closer to the edge. “Yeah?” He cooed. “Does that sound good for you? Come on baby. Come on… there it is.” He said as you began to shudder around him, your body collapsing against his chest. “That’s my girl.” He said, but he didn’t give you a moment of rest.

Just as promised he picked you up as he stood, before dropping your feet to the floor. He turned you around, his hand pushing firmly against your back, getting you to bend over your boss’s desk in front of you.

Your face and chest were pushed onto the desk top as Peter took your arms, folding them behind your back and holding them firmly in place with a single hand as he lined himself back up to your entrance with his other.

You let out a loud gasp as he slammed his hips into your ass as he bottomed out inside you. “Oh baby, you look so pretty like this.” He said as he began to snap his hips faster.

You almost completely forgot where you were as the feeling of his cock spearing you open sent shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Your gasps and moans grew louder and louder as you felt yet another climax quickly building inside you. “Fuck, FUCK! Oh my god! Peter.”

“Mmm baby, I love it when you say my name like that.” You could feel his thrusts growing sloppier. You knew he was close, only holding himself together so he could make you cum one last time.

He shifted you both back slightly between thrusts so he could reach his hand around between your legs and started rubbing quick circles around your clit, bringing you to your climax faster. He watched as you screwed up your eyes, your mouth hanging open in a silent oh for just a moment before your orgasm hit and you began to shudder around him once more, your voice finally ringing out into the air of the office.

“That’s it baby.” He said as he removed his hand from between your legs.

You felt him pump one, two, three more times before the removed himself from you, pulling you up off the desk with one arm and encouraging you to turn around and get on your knees in front of him, his other hand pumping his length.

You knelt before him, opening your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out waiting for him to cum. You closed your eyes in anticipation just in case as you listened to him grunt. Then you felt the tip of his cock on the flat of your tongue and his cum burst into your mouth. You shaped your tongue around his length trying to contain as much of it in your mouth as you could.

As you felt him still you opened your eyes to look up at him, giving his length and slit a lick for good measure and he twitched away from you at the sensitivity, You didn’t look away from his eyes as you swallowed his salty cum with a closed lipped smile.

“Fuck, your gorgeous.” He said as he took your face in his hands and bent over to kiss your lips. “Now come on. Pick your panties up off the floor, it’s time to go home.”

You didn’t argue with him. You both put yourselves back together before you left the office. You quickly closed down your computer and you left hand in hand.

When you went back to work the next day your boss’s face was a picture. You watched him closely when he came in. Stepping into his office, you hot on his heels with his morning coffee and a notepad ready to take down his orders for the morning, you saw him pause. His brow furrowed as he looked around the room.

“Everything okay sir?” You dutifully asked.

“Huh?! Yeah!” He suddenly barked not wanting to seem vulnerable. “Yeah.” He looked down at the papers on his desk confused again until he saw the Manila envelope. “When did these get here?” He asked as he sat himself down in his chair and began opening up the photos and scanning through them.

“Uh I think Mr Parker dropped them off last night.” You feigned innocence.

“Really?” Your boss pondered. He suddenly looked up at you as if finally remembering who you were and where he was. “Right. I want Anderson up here stat. I need him in here brainstorming headlines with me to get these out on the front page first thing!” He shouted at you, his hand slamming the photos on the desk as he leaned back and kicked his feet up.

“Yes, sir.”

“And make sure you get finance to send Parker over his money.” He commanded as he picked the photos back up and started looking through them again.

“Is that everything sir?”

“What!? Yes! Of course! Now get out of here!” He barked and you quickly hurried from the room.

As you sat back at your desk you smiled to yourself. Peter had been right, although he knew something was up, your boss didn’t have a clue what had really taken place in his office the night before.

[m4sonn]

DROP THE RAPPER!CURLY AND SCIENTIST!PONY LORE

Alright guys get ready this is gonna be fire

Ponyboy always wanted to be a writer, we all know that, but as he got older he realized being a writer was most likely not gonna pay the bills and he was honestly convinced curly (his bf) was gonna end up like… sleeping on a bench in a park… so he decided to go with another of his passions, science! It’s his favorite subject other than ELA. He ends up being like… super duper well known and makes a bunch of breakthroughs in his field, he managed to earn himself a Nobel peace prize!! Woohoo!! (He’s also pretty well known for his name and bc he actually publishes the outsiders (it’d be an autobiography in this au) and it’s definitely as famous, if not more famous, as it is in modern days) While pony was going to Harvard on a full science scholarship curly was flunking community college! Originally curly’s major was probably either music, business, or ethnic studies. Well… he flunked out and lived with pony in his apartment off campus. Well.. curly starts up a career in rapping, his raps aren’t about liek fucking bitches or wtv most of the time, usually they’re just about gang violence, growing up on the streets, and if anything his songs have more of a Kendrick Lamar or a redbone type vibe to them, if anything his music is kind of like mozzy. Well… curly definitely goes somewhere, a lot farther than pony thought, he ends up like mega famous. Like genuinely drake level (minus the pedophile stuff >o<). Well…… curly always had his hands in his pockets or he’s just like… slouched in an awkward position so you can’t see his hands, like during interviews he’s definitely just wearing some Nike slides, champion long socks, some non-name brand basketball shorts, a baggy black hoodie, and some beats which he doesn’t take off when people are talking to him. Even though he has money he still chooses to dress like a bum. But I digress. Curly and pony keep their personal life very private, curly honestly could care less but he just goes along with wtv pony wants so he doesn’t talk about pony in interviews or anything because pony’s a bit worried they’ll be less respected if they come out as being gay. Well, one day Curly’s getting interviewed by like… fucken’ Ellen DeGenerous or something I don’t fucking know, but anyways he’s getting interviewed and the woman’s like “so, when are you gonna tie the knot, lock is down with someone? Yknow? Have a family.” (Curly has talked about ‘fucking bitches’ and ‘fucking hoes’ only twice in his music career and when pony asked about it he responded with “Don’t worry babe, you’re the bitches and hoes, you’re the only one I be fucking.” Pony wasn’t sure how to respond to that.) and he was so utterly confused by this, he held up his hand, showing his wedding ring, “what? I’m literally married”. The interviewer was genuinely flabbergasted, “so… err… who’s the lucky lady…?” And he just looks even more confused (mind you this is the most emotion he has ever shown… like… ever in his whole career, curly is generally a very expressionless person.) “who said it was a girl??” The media was ALL OVER him after that, paparazzi and all that jazz. Well, after that, it became the biggest thing on the internet to try and track down who this mystery guy was. After a while the paparazzi found them eating at (I almost doxxed myself by putting a food place that only has one location which is in the city I live in but it’s the best fucking food ive ever had I’m literally frothing at the mouth thinking of their waffles rn.) some random breakfast spot together. Neither of them confirmed it until pony gave curly the ok to post something about it.

Bonuses!!:

Purly but curly makes drake type music and pony makes Lana del Rey type songs!!!

[blushing-ghost-stories]

Bo Sinclair X Reader

Reader heads down to the garage to flirt with Bo, but a misunderstanding nearly ruins their relationship before it can even begin.

WC: 2819

Genre: Hurt/Comfort?

Content Warning: toxic behaviour, abuse, violence, self destructive thoughts, Bo calls the reader Bitch and Whore, Bo Sinclair should be a warning in himself.

If I've missed something that should be warned about above in this piece, please let me know.

SFW but MDNI

“Well, well, well, looks like the lyin’ whore is finally showing ‘her true colours.” Bo’s eyes were filled with a cold fury, you could see his jaw tensing up and a vein in his neck pulsing. He wasn’t angry with you, no, he was furious.

You weren’t too sure where things had gone so wrong. Your day had started normally enough, you had woken up to the sound of Lester stomping around getting ready for his day, and you had gotten up too. You had got ready for the day and then you headed down into the kitchen to make coffee for Lester before starting on breakfast for you and Bo. Your interactions with both of them that morning had been cordial enough, being a ‘guest’ in Ambrose for the last 3 months you had started building more trust with them, and murder aside you truly enjoyed being in the town, it was the change of pace that you had needed.

After Bo and Lester had left for the day you had cleaned up a bit before you decided to do something stupid brave. You had been dancing around your feelings for Bo for quite a while, when you had first met him he was charming and you couldn’t deny how attractive you had found him. Things had changed a bit after the truth of Ambrose had come to light, the friends you had been traveling with were dead, and you didn’t explore the town much, even with the freedoms you were given, too afraid to walk into a building and seeing them staring back at you. So for the first month you had pushed down your attraction to Bo, after all, he was rude, and had a hair-trigger temper that you were still working on understanding. But then as time went on you began seeing more sides of the Sinclairs, you had seen how sweet and caring they could be underneath, you had seen how they truly cared for one another, and you desperately wanted that too, you wanted to be loved and cared for, and you knew that despite everything that had happened, you were still attracted to Bo, and you thought he might be interested in you.

And so, after psyching yourself up you decided you were going to go down to the garage and chat with Bo a bit, and maybe if you felt stupid brave enough, you’d flirt with him a bit, see if his attraction to you was real or if it was all in your head.

And that was what had led you to this point here, Bo gazing at you with barely restrained fury, looking like he might cross the garage and attack you at any second. 

“What?” You flinched backwards as he took a step towards you, barely finding your voice enough to squeak out a confused response. “I don’t understand”

“Don’t understand?” He crossed the shop faster than you had thought he was capable of, and in an instant he had your arm in a bruising grip, pulling you towards him as he got in your face, “What’s there to not understand darlin’? I was wonderin’ how long this lil act o’ yours was gonna go on for, and I guess now I know.”

“What act, I don’t - I don’t” You were finding it hard to find the words, it had been months since you had felt this amount of fear, you didn’t understand why he was so angry with you, coming down here had clearly been a mistake, now you just wanted to get away from him and get back to the house, back home, you could throw yourself into chores and avoid Bo for the rest of your life, yes, that seemed like a reasonable plan, you just needed him to let go of you, he just needed to let go. 

“Ya don’t, ya don’t what?” He was yelling so close to your face you could feel spit hitting your face as he practically frothed at the mouth in anger. 

When you didn’t immediately answer he shook you violently, nearly throwing you to the floor. That was when the dam broke, you started sobbing, unable to stop yourself, barely keeping yourself upright. You could only stand there, trembling and crying as he shook you, demanding an answer to a question you didn’t understand.

“I-I, I’m - I’m - I’m, s-” You couldn’t get the words out, barely being able to talk through the sobs wracking your body. You just wanted to get the words out, apologise for whatever you had done wrong and get out of here, but you just couldn’t.

In the back of your mind you could hear him mocking your sobbing stutter as you struggled to get the words out, he was getting angrier as time went on, you just needed to get the words out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” you nearly collapsed, his bruising grip on your arm practically the only thing keeping you upright, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He finally let you go, and you nearly dropped to the ground, luckily you were close enough to the counter that you were able to brace yourself against it to keep yourself upright. You wanted to put more space between the two of you but were scared that if you moved he’d come after you again, so you just stood there, trying to get control of your breathing, staring at the ground, trying to focus on anything other than Bo. 

“Yer damn straight you ain’t gonna try that fuckin’ shit again, ya got that.” He stepped back, giving you a bit of space, “Knew this little act of yours was too good to be true, comin' in here, thinking ya can flirt your way out of here. Well, I got news for ya, you're here for life, and that doesn’t have to be a long time darlin’ so think carefully on how ya wanna act.”

The pieces started to click into place, he had thought that you were only flirting with him to get out of Ambrose, but that wasn’t the case, maybe if you explained it to him, then he’d understand, and things would be okay.

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” you wiped your face, tears still streaming down, but not as badly as before, you were hopeful, you could make him understand and then it would be okay, “I don’t want to leave, I want to stay here, I just wanted to hang out with you, I like you.”

As it turned out, that had not been the correct thing to do, reasoning with Bo when he was this angry was near impossible, the smarter thing to do would have been to just shut up and accept what he had said, move on with the day and never bring it up again. But you had just had to try and fix things. The sudden stinging sensation across your face had your ears ringing and took your legs out from under you. You didn’t even realise that he had backhanded you until you were on the ground, hand on your cheek, looking up at him in confusion.

This was too much, you wanted to go home, he was even angrier now and you were truly scared for what was going to happen to you. And then the bell to the shop rang, and your saviour, Lester, arrived. 

“Wha- what’s goin’ on in ‘ere?” He was at your side in an instant, helping you up, bringing you away from Bo, towards the door, towards freedom. He stopped short though, letting you go and turning back to Bo after he said something, “What was that?”

“I said that lying whore is trying to leave,” Lester looked back at you in shock, you tried to shake your head, to tell him that it wasn’t true, but shaking your head hurt and made you dizzy, and you were scared to speak again. 

“Tha- that can’t be true, she likes it here,” he looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded as well as you could, “See Bo, whatever is going on it’s jus’ a lil misunderstanding, tha’s all, just a lil misunderstanding.”

“That bitch came in here, trying to flirt with me, thinkin' I’d let her go if she batted her lil eyelashes and looked cute.” Bo turned away, walking to the other side of the garage while Lester followed behind him, at a safe distance, trying to comfort his brother.

Lester turned back to you, a look of betrayal on his face, “You said you like it here, you said you was gonna stay with us,” the look on his face nearly broke your heart, it hurt so much to hear how little they actually trusted you, how quickly they’d turn on you, and that was enough to make you start crying again.

“I’m going home,” You barely managed to croak your declaration out through your renewed sobbing, “I’m going home.”

And with that you turned and ran, tears blurring your vision as you ran from the garage, toward safety, towards your home. You could hear Bo and Lester yelling after you, but they didn’t give chase. By the end of your race back to the house you were nearly out of breath, practically hyperventilating as you walked in through the door.

“You’re so stupid, why are you so stupid?” You were muttering to yourself, needing to voice the thoughts in your head, you were scared, but you were also angry, angry at yourself for being so stupid, “Why would you think anyone would ever care about you? You’re so useless, so fuckin pathetic.”

You broke down again, crying on the floor of the entryway. You were so caught up in your turmoil that you didn’t even notice Vincent sitting at the kitchen table, eating lunch silently. He didn’t know what was going on, but you looked like you needed someone. 

He quietly walked over to you, Jonsey trailing silently behind him, curious as to the disturbance. You were startled and a bit embarrassed when Vincent crouched down next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You leaned into the comforting touch, Vincent always seemed to be there for you when you were at your worst, a silent yet comforting presence. You looked up to him, giving him a weak, watery smile, trying to reassure him that you were okay.

Not wanting to be left out Jonsey quickly muscled her way in, shoving herself between you and Vincent, silently demanding attention, attention that you were more than happy to give her, sinking your fingers into her coat, giving her the pats she was demanding was a soothing experience, plus it gave you something to focus on, anchored you helping you begin to calm down.

The three of you sat in silence for a while, until you finally risked breaking it, shattering the tranquil moment.

“Why am I so stupid?” You weren’t quite sure if you were asking yourself or Vincent the question this time, but it was the only thing you could think of to ask.

Vincent just tilted his head in response, giving it a little shake, it was clear that he was confused at your question.

“I’m so stupid,” and with that, the tears came again, “I-I thought that he could like me, but that’s so stupid, so so stupid, why would he like someone as pathetic as me?”

Vincent looked even more confused, and gestured for you to wait a moment, and he quickly left you, taking off into the house looking for something. He returned with a pad of paper, he communicated with his brothers through sign language, and while you were still trying to learn you were having difficulties and couldn’t understand him most of the time, so when the two of you talked he would write for you instead.

“I don’t understand, why are you saying those things? Who upset you?”

“I told Bo I like him, it was a stupid thing to do, why would someone as great as him want to be with someone like me?”

You turned away from Vincent, almost ashamed for having said it aloud, that you liked his brother, what if he reacted like Bo and Lester, what if this was the end of your stay in Ambrose? You could hear him scribbling away on the pad, hastily writing a response to you.

“My brother is stupid, he’d be lucky to have you.”

You took your time reading his response, it confused you, why was he saying that?

“But even Lester agreed, when I said I liked Bo, when I flirted with him, they both acted like I was trying to run away, but I don’t want to leave, I love Ambrose, I love you guys, I don’t want to have to leave.”

Vincent gently rubbed your shoulder in a comforting gesture again, before doing something that completely took you off guard, he wrapped both arms around you, drawing you into a hug. The first hug you’d had since arriving in Ambrose, and it nearly made you break down in tears again, your emotions were just so frayed.

After a moment longer he gently released you, patting you on the back as he picked his paper back up, beginning to pen another response.

“A lot of tourists, especially women, try to flirt with us, with all of us, to try and get us to let down our guard, to let them go. I don’t think that’s what you were trying to do, but Bo probably did, and I know he likes you, he must’ve felt betrayed, that you were trying to manipulate him. It doesn’t excuse his overreaction, but he’s got a bad temper, let him settle himself down, and then you can talk to him later.”

You nodded at Vincent, “Okay, I’ll try that.”

Both of you were startled at the sound of the door crashing open. Turning around you saw Bo, still looking pissed as hell standing in the doorway.

“Well, well, ain’t this cozy,” He took a few quick strides towards you, ready to grab you again, only to be blocked by Vincent standing in his path. “Well, looky here, flirtin’ with me didn’t work so you ran right off to my brother, smart choice, he’s the better one, he’s the good twin, I’m just the monster.”

Vincent began signing something, you couldn’t understand what he was saying to Bo, but you could see Bo’s face going through a multitude of emotions.

“Whatever, you don’t know shit,” Vincent signed something else to him, Bo just scoffed in response before turning to you, “And you, the fuck ‘re you doin' here? Thought you wanted to go home, that's what you were shouting before.”

“I am home.” You hadn’t expected your simple words to affect Bo, you had expected more anger and derision, for him to storm out leaving you with Vincent, instead, you saw his features soften, just a bit, but enough to be noticeable. 

“Home, eh?” He smirked at you, walking around Vincent to kneel by you, bringing his hand up to cup your face, eyeing the bruise forming on your cheek, “That’s right, this is your home, and you’re not goin' anywhere right doll?”

Not trusting your voice you nodded, leaning into his touch, softly shutting your eyes. You had no idea how you were able to be so calm with him now after what happened not 30 minutes ago, but Bo had a knack for making you feel safe, though you were going to have to be more careful around his temper in the future.

“Did ya mean what you said then?” You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face, “You said you like me, is that true?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch even more, “I do, I like it here, I want to stay with you.” You looked over to Vincent and added, “With all of you.”

Bo shifted, sitting next to you on the floor, pulling you into him, into a somewhat awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless, and you felt yourself relaxing further into his embrace.

“‘M sorry, I know I got a bad temper,” He was speaking so softly, almost as though he didn’t want people to hear what he was saying, he sounded so soft, so vulnerable, it wasn’t something you thought you’d ever say about Bo, “I’ll work on it, promise.”

You knew it’d be a hard promise for him to keep, that temper of his was bad, but you’d never heard Bo apologise before or admit to any wrongdoing, normally just justifying his temper and reactions. But you wanted to trust him, to believe him when he said he’d work on it, you could help him, you could be happy with him, you were sure of it.

[bucknastysbabe]

WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN Sheriff Lee Bodecker WOOF WOOF BARK BARK ARF BARK GRRRR WOOF

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK GRRRRRR HERE YOU GO NONNIE I HOPE YOU ENJOY OUR SHERIFF

AU Bingo - Western - Lee Bodecker

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Surprise moment, non-con play, breeding kink, dirty talk, restraints, outlaw!reader, pnv!sex, PUSSY EATING LIKE A CHAMP, slight overstim, Lee is Possessive, confessions of love

A/N: I don’t beta we die like Lee in the woods😀

Well the gig was up. Maybe. Probably so.

You’d likely be hanging in the morning in front of an excited crowd of idiotic townspeople. Some bounty hunter by the name of Arwin dropped you right off into Knockemstiff’s sheriffs building. Here you sat in a minuscule jail cell, some crazy frothing at the mouth next to you and this freak catcalling from the right.

You were doing your own thing trying to get money for your gang when the bounty hunter surprised you in a damn trap. A trap? What were you, some sort of rookie? Peering out the tiny window you frowned. The gang was probably not going to get your ass. Left here to rot.

Clanging on the metal bars jerked your attention forward. A man with dark hair and rather intense blue eyes smirked at you. He tipped his hat, sheriff’s badge gleaming on his chest. You hissed, “What’chu want? Ya’ gonna hang me regardless. I know what I did.”

He cocked his head and hummed, “Nah. I don’t think you did sweetheart. Think we need to do some interrogatin’ down in the pit here.”

Your heart began to race. Something in his eyes told you this wasn’t a normal ‘interrogation’. The sheriff stalked forward, big body looming over your own, thick fingers coming to grip your chin. Chains rattled as your hands shook in your lap. He grinned, “Awe, lookit’chu, scared lil’ bunny now huh?”

You grimaced, cheeks flushing as you looked away.

“C’mon then,” he huffed, jerking you by your bonds. The sheriff practically hauled you with one arm, walking in that slow strut of his. You spat, “Fuck you, they’ll come get me and shoot your ass!”

“Sure they will, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!,” you barked as the man shoved you down the stairs, you stumbling and spurs clacking irritatingly. It was dark down in the ‘pit’. A table, a chair, and an ominous amount of weapons and torture devices. The sheriff crooned, “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna mess your pretty face up with none a’ that.”

Your cheeks darkened further in embarrassment. A big hand shoved you down in the chair, hooking your manacled wrists above your head with a clink. He drew closer, getting a good look, you could see his last name on the Badge. Bodecker.

“You can just call me Lee if ya’ like, little outlaw,” he pinched your thigh, “Or bunny. That’s whatcha’ are without that gang or yer’ guns.” You glared at him and spat, “Oh fuck off you pudgy sonnuva’ bitch! I oughta.”

You didn’t get to finish the sentence as two fingers slipped in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue roughly, drool leaking out. His handsome face split into a grin, cooing, “You oughta what bun? Kill me? Cuz’ it looks like I gotcha’ to myself.”

Whimpering helplessly and jerking in the bonds had him cooing again, snaking his other hand up your strong thigh. Lee sighed, “I thought you were jus’ the prettiest thing on all those bounty posters, wonderin’ how such a sweet face could be so, so bad?”

All you could do was drool around his fingers, lashes growing wet from tears. You willed away the growing slick between your thighs. This was wrong, so wrong. But you wanted the brunette to coo and stroke you more, down deep. Didn’t get much more than a rough fuck on the run.

He grinned with pretty teeth, grunting as he got down on his knees. Easing his fingers out of your now swollen lips the sheriff sucked on them, slurping with a low moan. Your cheeks burned with heat, pussy throbbing in time with your rising heartbeat.

“If you’re good ta’ me, maybe I’ll let you off,��� digits curled around your gunbelt, “Or maybe I’ll just keep ya’ locked up in my place.” You shook your head, wanting to growl but whimpered, “Please…no.”

The gunbelt was discarded and he began to unbutton your pants, peeling them down your thighs, roughened from all the time on horseback. You looked up and away, lips trembling as Lee lowly whistled, “Gorgeous little bunny, not so scary without those big guns huh?”

Big hands spread your thighs apart. You could feel his breath traveling up to your weeping cunt, pressing a couple of kisses along the way. With a strangled grunt you barked, “Q-quit playin’ around!” Bodecker slapped your inner thigh roughly, blue eyes blazing as he glared up at you, full cheeks puffy as he frowned.

Biting down on your lip the sheriff hoisted legs over broad shoulders and lapped a stripe up your pussy. Your wrists clacked in the restraints, mouth falling open with a moan. Bodecker squeezed and massaged your thighs as he licked and ate at you hungrily, moaning.

“Christ!,” you hollered, belly tightened.

The brunette moved to suckle and pointedly lick at your swollen pearl, making you squirm and shy away from the intense pleasure. You had nowhere to go— simply stuck whining and dripping for this horrid man. Bodecker shoved the same thick fingers from earlier into your pussy, stretching and curling maddeningly.

Arching your back you met his pleased expression, lips wet and red. Lee sucked on his teeth and laughed, “Bunny just lovin’ this huh? Yeah, I think m’gonna keep you to myself. Taste too sweet.” He dove back onto your clit before you could rack your muddled brain for an insult.

Involuntarily your thighs clamped tighter onto him as the man curled his wicked fingers faster into that soft spot, tongue flicking and flicking and flicking. Tears streamed down your cheeks now, head tossed back as you painfully arched. In a pitiful whine you said, “Oh, oh fuck Lee, don’t stop, m’so close!” He hummed around you, eyes rolling up as you gushed on his fingers and chin.

You thrashed and cried out, chains jingling at a fever pitch. All you could do was cry and howl his name as the pleasure ran through hot veins.

Eventually the pressure died down and you blinked slowly, legs still curled around his shoulders. Lee pressed a little kiss to your knee, smirking. He asked, “You okay? That was a different little game than we usually play.” You easily picked the lock to the manacles, hands coming to rest on Lee’s cute cheeks.

“Mhm, more than okay, that was fun.”

His blues eyed you grumpily, the man murmuring, “I don’t like playing the big bad guy with you, already do that in real life.” You slid your thighs off the crooked sheriff’s shoulders and into his lap, arms coming around him. Kissing him gently you shrugged, “S’fun to pretend, but we ain’t gotta do it anymore.”

Lee frowned, hands now at your waist. He rumbled, “When’s the rest of your crew rollin’ into town? Y’know I can’t stand Leroy.” Rolling your still slick cunt over your man’s cock had his breath hitching. You breathed, “Mmm, probably round sunset. We got all day with eachother.” You nipped at his ear with a small smile.

“Good,” he stated with a new intensity, “Y’gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy in this mudhole or back in my place?”

He was right, the bed was a much more viable option. Even if it was about to break as you rode him hard into the mattress. Lee gasped your name, meeting your bounces weakly. His cute tummy was soft underneath your groping hands.

The bed creaked in time with your fever pitch fucking, riding Lee’s thick cock with helpless moans and cries. He rambled, “Ah, bun, fuuuck, missed ya’.” Leaning down to kiss his eager lips you grinded down on that sweet spot again, whining against his lips, “M-missed you too baby!”

“You should stay with me all the time, ain’t gotta ride around like that, we can handle business round here,” he panted, groaning between words.

Your hips stilled a little as he purred, “C’mon bun, wouldn’t it be nice, I’ll put a ring on it and a babe in your belly.” The words sent a hot streak up your spine, another shrill whine from your lips. Lee grinned and flipped you into the bed, bigger and softer frame pressing you firmly down.

He fucked into you at a brutal pace, mouth lapping at your bouncing tits. The brunette grunted, “Know ya’ want it, being a mama, handling business and a babe. So damn perfect bun. Gonna let me fill you up this time?”

You wanted it. Wanted it real bad. Riding round all the time was tiring, and Lee was real good to you. Too good for how you ran around on him. Pulling him flush you mewled, “Please, do it, fuckin’ breed me! I love you!”

He mouthed wetly against your sensitive neck, belly and hips slapping roughly against your own. Lee growled, “Y’sure? You wanna’ be knocked up? Y’aint going nowhere, I’ll drag yer’ pretty ass up to the chapel with my cum drippin’ between your legs.” You wailed and clung tighter to him, begging for it like a two nickel whore.

“I love you too bunny,” the brunette groaned as he shoved his cock deep up inside you, flooding your cunt with his seed. The feeling sent you reeling, coming apart sniveling and sobbing, fluttering around him with each contraction of ecstasy. Oh…you really loved this.

Lee kissed your slobbery lips, promising darkly, “Relax now sugar, c’mon, I ain’t letting you out the bed until I’m sure it’s taken. The gang can wait n’the saloon.”

[marcobodtlives]

AoT Character Deaths and How They Made Me Cry:

Marco (Reiner/Bertholdt POV): 9/10 lost my fucking mind, frothing at the mouth, sobbing, angry tears. He didn’t deserve that. He just wanted to talk. Also cried when Jean saw him by the pyre and before deciding to side with the Scouts not Jaegerists. And when Jean kissed his hand before fighting the female titan. And when Jean led all the survivors to kill the turned government officials after the rumbling began because it reminded me of when Marco told him he would make a great leader. Also cried when he wasn’t in the smoke at the ending.

Armin: 10/10 tried so hard not to sob, throat had a large lump, head was throbbing, couldn’t breathe properly. Didn’t think he was gonna come back from it and considered if the show would still feel the same without him.

Ymir: 4/10 unfortunately overshadowed by the fact that I was still connecting a lot of plot points and my brain hurt. I did tear up as Historia read the love letter. Also teared up a little when Reiner sniffed the stupid letter at the very end of the show, because it reminded me of Ymir and her first letter.

Sasha: 7/10 saw it coming, knew it in my heart and bones, but ultimately understood why her character was killed (from a narrative perspective). Teared up but was mostly in shock. Thought I could handle it, then several episodes later I saw the shot of Gabi looking like Sasha from behind and didn’t feel the tears till my cheeks were soaked in them. Cried quite hard when she was in the smoke and saw the look on Connie and Jean’s faces as they watched her disappear.

Colt: 6/10 (I know it wasn’t a major death but come on) he just wanted his broTHER TO BE OKAY COME ON - pour some (tears) out for ‘em.

Floch: 4/10 first watch I won’t lie I thought ‘finally, jesus’ but on the second watch I considered it more and felt a bit bad for him as he said his last words to Jean. He died for a cause in his heart, even if it was a cause birthed by revenge. Felt sad when I saw the building collapse in on his body, knowing he died so far from home. I’m still mad about how he treated Armin and Jean though, so not many tears.

Hange: 10/10 music moved me so hard I’ve never needed more tissues in my life. Sobbed as Hange fell, but had a smile on my face as they looked at the colossals in wonderment. Proud of them, wished it didn’t have to end this way.

Jean and Connie (transformation): 100/10 not knowing they survived I absolutely lost the plot. I was furious and sobbing. They deserved to see a future where their lives weren’t threatened. Felt awful inside. Tears flowing down my cheeks and neck. Pained. Raw, open sobs. Even more tears when I realised they were okay.

Eren: 7/10 I knew it was coming. I knew it would happen from the moment he left the Scouts in Marley. I was already crying over Jean and Connie at this point so it’s hard to tell how many tears were for Eren, but I was mostly proud of Mikasa and those were the cause of the tears.

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 5

Art fair! sorry to the ghost truthers i just realised simon has brown eyes and not blue… i changed it in chapter three. idk how i got it in my head that his eyes are blue :’) ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

I Need You Here

Johnny has been looking for a job.

Simon knew this day would come, admittedly. Crafts from Hobby Lobby would only tide Johnny over for so long before his hands grew a mind, taking him away from the private little paradise they’ve built together.

Now, Johnny often sprawled over Simon’s laptop, searching for any hands-on job nearby. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come to Simon, asking questions about the workforce since all he’s ever known is the military. They talk about handyman jobs, which Johnny seems most attracted to, assisting artists at a nearby college or even teaching an art class at the college, which revolts Johnny.

“Ae don’t ken anythin’ about art, Si!” He protests when Simon taps into the job listing.

“Sure you do. Your sketchbooks, Johnny.”

“That’s nae college level!”

He does half of the application just to fuck with Johnny.

Johnny finds a listing at the clinic you work at for a janitor. He froths at the mouth while thinking about working in such proximity to you for four days a week, but the pay brings him back down to earth. While technically they’d be fine forever with their retirement money, having extra cash could never kill them. For twelve pounds an hour, Johnny decides he can do better.

Johnny calls it quits after a week of searching for jobs. Everything he found started too early or too late, had too many days or not enough. He was either overqualified or underqualified and he was beginning to think that maybe he should go back to the military and take a civilian job because nowhere else seemed to understand his need for flexible hours. He tells Simon as much.

“No, Johnny, you just need to find your thing,” Simon says, rubbing Johnny’s shoulders reassuringly as they curl up on the couch together, Riley asleep by their feet. “It feels discouraging now, yeah, but you just might not be looking at the right stuff, y’know?” Johnny huffs.

“I’m dyin’ of boredom here, Si,” he gripes.

“I wasn’t joking about teaching that art class, you know.” He says, quietly, after a second.

“There’s no way, Si. A’m not like that. I dinnae know value from shade.” He grumbles back.

“Well, it’s the twenty-first century, love. You can sell your work. Or teach an amateur class online.”

Johnny goes quiet for the rest of the movie. He’s quiet as he takes a shower, brushes his teeth and gives Riley her last walk of the day and quiet as he crawls into bed.

He spends the next day researching things about a platform called ‘Etsy’. He barely takes breaks to eat or drink and Simon has to manhandle him to wash his hair. He spends most of the night doing whatever the hell on Etsy and Simon gives up on forcing him into bed and just falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up at 1000, Johnny is slumped at his desk, the laptop dead in front of him and covered by some of Johnny’s old charcoal figures. He sighs and cleans up the mess on the desk before putting a pillow under Johnny’s head and throwing a blanket over him. Then he makes breakfast and puts a full plate underneath Johnny’s nose, to help him wake up.

He takes Riley for her morning walk after breakfast and they detour to your apartment to say hi. You’re chirpy, finally fully recovered from the breakup as it seems, and genuinely happy to see them. Riley loves up on your legs like usual while you idly chat.

“There’s another fair coming to town next week,” you bring up.

“But didn’t we just have the strawberry one?”

“Yeah. But the college nearby is opening a new museum so they’re hosting a tiny version of one of the exhibits in a fair and bringing a bunch of local artists in.”

“Really?” Simon says, mind already churning into high gear when you mention local artists. “Johnny’s gonna love that.”

“It sounds like it’ll be his speed.” You say.

Simon nods. He has something to chew on now and he says an abrupt goodbye before going back to the apartment, hanging up Riley’s leash. Johnny is quick to pounce on him, immediately yapping about the Etsy page he made and all of his old art he put up for sale and how he’s already sold five whole pieces and needs to go ship them out.

Simon praises him, because he’s done such a good job- because, well, he’s doing something to occupy himself without leaving the relative safety of their apartment and that alone is enough to soothe him.

He tells Johnny about the fair during dinner, and Johnny lights up like the sun.

“Oh, oh, Si, can we go wi’ the bon, please, Si?” He begged with his biggest puppy eyes.

“Nn. You’ll have to ask them yourself.” He says, which makes Johnny immediately jump up to go and do just that. He’s stopped, obviously, with a sharp tug on the neck of his shirt.

“It’s ten in the night, Johnny.” He says. “Eat your damn dinner.”

“But ye said-“

“I didn’t mean right now, you bloody maniac. Calm yourself.” He says. Johnny pouts and pokes at the rest of his mashed potatoes like a child.

When Johnny does get to ask you the next day, though, he looks fully prepared to guilt trip you into agreeing. You agree without resistance, only ever so gently coaxing Johnny into going on your off day next week as opposed to that very second. He agrees only because it’s you.

Needless to say, Johnny is nothing but unbearable during the wait; talking Simon’s ear off to the point where he thinks he’ll get a permanent migraine. Thank bloody hell he’s so easily distracted by shiny things- most of the time, he was able to redirect questions about you to a collection of cross-stitch sets he had bought years ago. That, and helping Johnny pack and mail the odd dozen or so artworks that he's sold for a good dollar help keep him occupied. The works are mostly charcoals on fancy mixed media paper, all of them vaguely an unmasked Simon or the dog. It doesn't seem to matter much to the people who're buying his stuff, though.

The day finally comes, though, and Johnny sniffs you out. It’s very bloodhound-esc. You don’t seem to mind all too much, looking content to be dragged around.

Johnny first takes the three of you to a little make-your-own painting stall hosted by an oil painter located a few hours out. Johnny is utterly concentrated, leaving Simon and you to foster a quiet conversation while you paint on the provided canvases. When Simon goes to pay, Johnny shows you his painting proudly; it’s a portrait of you and Simon hunched over your portraits while engaged in a conversation. He’s somehow captured the essence of the summer afternoon and you’re entranced by how he’s painted you; the sun is almost right behind you, in his painting, and it makes your hair glow and eyes shine, even as they’re downcast.

“Wow….” You murmur, and Johnny beams, proud. Suddenly the still life you had done of the stall is no longer impressive. Johnny still insists on seeing it, forcing you to show it to him. He might be a little too generous, but still. It seems as though he means it, so what else could you ask for?

Simon comes back and he nearly mirrors your response, but he doesn’t seem as surprised as you had been. Johnny also manhandles Simon into showing his painting, but Simon is a lot more resistant. It takes Johnny squirming under one burly, hoodie-clad forearm for Simon to relent and begrudgingly show him a heartfelt landscape of simple green grasslands. Johnny still seems earnestly honest, nattering about how natural the few flowers look.

Then you’re toted to a make-your-own pottery stall, which is a lot harder than it looks. Johnny (obviously) takes to it like a fish to water after one or two bad first attempts, but neither Simon nor you take to it as quickly or smoothly. You end up coaxing a few deep chuckles from Simon with your poor attempts, but you’re not afraid to laugh at him, too, when he doesn’t do any better. Johnny makes an elegant, tall vase and Simon manages a lumpy yet characteristic mug. Your bowl is cute and has a swirly design you're rather proud of. Again, Simon pays and registers the group to be notified when the pots (as poor as yours and Simon’s were) are finished with glaze and firing.

Lastly, since by this time it was beginning to get dark, you take photos in front of painted backdrops done by different artists. They're all unique and beautiful, each done in their own, unique style. Johnny takes twenty minutes to just appreciate the artistry before making you take photos in front of his favourite backdrops with him. It’s another twenty until you’re able to rope Simon into taking one photo.

Johnny looks so utterly inspired, clutching the tote bag that holds his and Simon's oil paintings with a starry-eyed look as he takes one more look around the fairgrounds. It's awfully adorable. He begs you to just peek into a few more stalls while you wait for Simon to go to the person who ran the little photo area and get the photos printed out for you, so when you inevitably parted ways at the doorways of your apartments, you had a small 3x6” souvenir- ready to be pinned up on your wall.

<- back next ->

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

frothing at the mouth pls give us the timlex

Okay youre getting my warrior cats au then. Im not sure i ever properly shared about it all. Im gonna be referring to the characters with their cats names, so here is that quick list of our main guys:

Alex Kralie- Hornetkit, Hornetpaw, Hornetstripe

Tim- Maskkit, Maskpaw, Masktuft

Jay- Jaykit, Jaypaw, Jaysight

Brian- Hawkkit, Hawkpaw, Hawkprowl

And heres my main ref for them :3

Okay now to talk

Theyre all a few moons apart, with Mask being the youngest, then Hawk, and then Jay a few days after Hornet.

When Hornetpaw is eight moons old, Maskpaw becomes an apprentice, and his mentor is Slendermange. Slendermange is one of the oldest warriors in the clan, even older than some elders, but he refuses to retire and since hes such a skilled fighter, he hasnt been forced to yet. Slendermange has always been interested in Maskkit, who was an orphaned kit the clan found and brought back to care for. Maskkit was skittish and quiet, but Slendermange seemed so focused on him that he was allowed to mentor him.

During their apprenticeship, the four cats become good friends. They were already friendly back in the nursery with the other kits, but now that they can start training and hunting and patrolling together, they become even better friends. Maskpaw always seems to be on the outskirts of their friendship though, always tugged away by his mentor when he seems to be getting more comfortable. Slendermange is very secretive of their training, and won’t allow the other apprentices to be around while he trains Maskpaw. Due to his training, Maskpaw is led to become a warrior early. Too early, if you asked the other apprentices. It wasn’t fair. He was the youngest of them, why should he get his warrior name first? Hornetpaw struggles to be happy for him when Masktuft get’s his name, and this drives a crack between their unsteady friendship.

When Hornetpaw is eleven moons old, tragedy strikes.

A fire starts in camp, and the clan loses everything. Their numbers are decimated. Hornetpaw’s mentor suffers severe burns, and is rendered unable to train Hornetpaw. Slendermange is killed in the fire, along with Hornetpaw’s parents and several other warriors and elders. Their leader loses more than one life trying to escape. And Masktuft’s body is never found. The worst is assumed.

Hawkpaw and Jaypaw become closer in their grief, losing friends and family. Hornetpaw however isn’t given that time to grieve, because soon, he starts having strange dreams. Slendermange appears to him in visions, a shadowy blood red forest surrounds them. He promises Hornetpaw that he can train him in place of Hornetpaw’s injured mentor, and says that he is a StarClan guide. Hornetpaw agrees, thinking this opportunity was too good to ever pass up.

He was wrong.

The lessons that Slendermange teaches him are cruel. To attack first and ask questions later. To avoid his friends, because they don’t understand the warrior code like the two of them do. He tells Hornetpaw how special he is, more special than Masktuft.

Then, their training starts to bleed into the day. Hornetpaw is exhausted all the time. He wakes up sore, with bites and scratches littering his pelt. He’s sluggish on patrols, and it’s enough that Jaypaw and Hawkpaw notice. They want to reach out, and see what’s wrong, but before they can, their relationship with Hornetpaw is ruined.

They graduate together. Given the names Jaysight and Hawkprowl, before the oldest of the group is even close to becoming a warrior.

The wedge that comes between them seems permanent. Hornetpaw won’t speak to them, won’t even look at them. He trains by himself, sneaks out of camp constantly, and as he sleeps in the apprentice den alone, it seems he has lost all connection to his clan. When his mentor dies from the burns, that is the nail in his coffin. Hornetpaw is entirely alone.

Except for Slendermange. Their training in the dark forest becomes more and more intense until, one day, during Hornetpaw’s training, Slendermange appears to him. Ghostly and dripping liquid shadow, this vision now follows him everywhere. Slendermange’s demonic presence is pressed to his pelt where ever he goes. Whispering nasty remarks about his former friends and clanmates, clawing at him when Hornetpaw doesn’t listen or behaves wrong. When Hornetpaw finally becomes Hornetstripe, Slendermange’s voice is the only one he can hear calling his name.

It’s only a matter of time before other cat’s start disappearing.

The already dismal numbers of the clan get even smaller, as cats are picked off one by one. Where are they going? Why is this happening? With only their leader, a young deputy, a handful of medicine cats and mediators sharing the workload together, and enough warriors to count on two hands, Hornetstripe is the last to vanish. Without a trace.

Its then that Jaysight and Hawkprowl independently decide to hunt him down and find him, Jaysight wanting to find his old friend and Hawkprowl having caught him in the act, blood staining Hornetstripe’s pelt and the lifeless body of another warrior at his paws.

Hornetstripe flees his clan, unaware that he’s being distantly tailed, and Slendermange still lurking in his peripheries. In his new life as a rogue, he encounters the assumed to be dead Masktuft. Masktuft had made a home for himself as a barn cat, and for some reason, allows Hornetstripe to stay with him. There was plenty of prey around to keep them fed, and a blossoming closeness begins to thread them together. Gradually, the shadows of Slendermange leave him. Hornetstripe’s pelt is scarred but soft now, and his tail no longer tucks between his legs.

One night, huddled together for warmth in the straw of the hayloft, Hornetstripe confesses everything he’s done. Shares what Slendermange did to him and made him do. Masktuft does not snap or hiss at him. He wraps his big, fluffy tail around Hornetstripe, and murmurs that he understands more than Hornetstripe could ever know. Satisfied with that, Hornetstripe curls closer, nosing into Masktuft’s fur and purring softly, for the first time in moons. Masktuft gives his pelt a few calming licks, and purrs that he’ll keep watch so that Hornetstripe can sleep safely.

I haven’t decided what happens if or when Hawkprowl and Jaysight find them. But I know it’ll have a happy ending, because I cannot emotionally handle sad endings in fanfiction lol

I hope you all enjoyed :3c

[sekhisadventures]

The Timelost Troll

Stranglethorn Vale, 200 years Before the Dark Portal Opened

The Jungles of Stranglethorn have endured since time immemorial. In ancient times they were the home to the Gurubashi Empire, but their day had long since ended. Their last emperor was centuries dead and the trolls had fallen from glory.

Two centuries before any orcs ever stood on Azeroth’s soil, the trolls had fractured into small villages, each vying for hunting grounds and good land to grow and forage on. Stranglethorn Vale however was a dangerous land, and those who lived there lived hard lives and had to do hard things to survive.

When times were lean, when there wasn’t enough food to go around, when they weren’t sure where their next meals were coming from… the trolls would fight, winner take all and Bwonsamdi take the rest.

… and some trolls fought dirty.

A Troll Village in Southern Stranglethorn Vale

Zul’zanza was a witch doctor, and a damn good one mon. Only the best witch doctors could claim the title of ‘Zul,’ which in trollish meant ‘Voodoo Master.’ He was tall and lanky (but then, he was a troll) with fiery red hair tied into a series of braids, his face hidden under a wooden mask and a long cloth with only his tusks showing.

He had protected his people for a long time with his magic, bargaining with the Loa of the land for their favor and their blessings, but one of their rival villages… well… he wasn’t using voodoo, but what he was using was rather effective indeed.

A troll lay before him, and he was clearly dead. It was pretty obvious, his eyes shouldn’t be that color and his mouth was covered in dried froth. Also he wasn’t breathing (definitely a clue.)

“Dey be findin’ him near de huntin’ grounds Zul’zanza. It gotta be dem bastards from de odda village! Dey be usin’ poison!” nodded another troll, this one bearing the high crested mohawk of a warrior.

“Ya mon, I be hearin’ o dis…” he frowned, narrowing his eyes… then raised his hand.

From the ceiling of his hut came a small creature, though the warrior troll immediately stepped away with his eyes wide as it landed on Zul’zanza’s outstretched hand. It had a sickly green body with eight spindly legs and a bulbous head and backside, as well as two pincers that, if they bit in the wrong spot, would kill a troll in seconds.

“Tell me, lil’ sistah… does ol’ Shadra know who be doin’ dis ta our hunters?” asked Zul’zanza, glancing towards the spider.

It didn’t seem to answer, but for a moment all six of its eyes seemed to glow like tiny candle flames, the light reflected in Zul’zanza’s eyes.

“I see… pass me tanks along ta yer momma lil’ sistah.” he nodded, sitting his hand down on the table as the spider crawled off and scurried away into the shadows.

The warrior swallowed, then bowed his head and whispered a quick prayer of thanks to the Loa before glancing at Zul’zanza, “… do ya be knowin’ who did dis?” he asked.

The witch doctor nodded, “Ya, I be knowin’… ‘n I be takin’ care o’ dis one.” he grinned. “Gonna be needin’ a few tings though, gotta make some nasty juju fer dis one mon.”

The warrior nodded, “Tell me what ya be needin’ witch doctor, tell me how we stop dis!”

Zul’zanza nodded slowly.

Two Nights Later

The witch doctor Zul’zanza knelt in his hut, holding a small wooden doll in the shape of a troll. It wore a tunic woven of fish scales and had the knucklebones of the slain hunter made into tusks on it as well.

He held it over a basin of water, the liquid having an unhealthy chemical sheen to it, as he lit the incense on either side and held the doll up above it.

“Hear me, mighty Loa… Gral o da Sea, fill me enemy’s lungs with brine ‘n salt so he can’t speak against us… Shadra, Venom Queen, poison dis mon so he know de pain he brought ta me people… Bwonsamdi, Loa o Graves… take dis one’s soul ‘n cast it inta de deepest pit ya can find, so he can’t come back fer revenge…” he intoned, breathing in the incense.

Around him, outside the hut, several other trolls beat out a rhythm of drums to call the Loa’s gaze towards Zul’zanza, several others dancing around it with torches raised to drive back the other tribe’s rival Loa who might try to interfere.

As the sounds from outside grew louder Zul’zanza raised the fetish higher, growling, “HEAR ME O MIGHTY LOA! I NAME DIS MON ENEMY! STRIKE HIM DOWN! MAKE HIM SUFFER! PROTECT ME TRIBE!” he called out, then he brought the effigy down into the basin and held it under, his thumb pressed into where it’s throat would be.

Across the vale, in another village, a troll alchemist had just finished bottling several new poisons for his tribemate’s arrows when suddenly he started coughing, clutching at his throat as he did.

The troll’s eyes bulged out, a burning spreading through his veins as his lungs felt as if they were filling with seawater! He fell to his knees and tried to cough up the salty liquid, but no matter how hard he heaved nothing came out. His heart began to beat erratically, his very blood feeling like it was boiling, and his vision was beginning to blur.

He crawled towards the exit to his hut, wanting to cry out for aid, to call their own witch doctor to protect him, but he couldn’t speak! He couldn’t even breathe!

With a final shudder he fell to the ground and felt as if bony hands were closing around his throat… and he saw over him the skeletal face and glowing eyes of the last face any troll ever sees.

Bwonsamdi, the Loa of Graves, had come for him.

Then he coughed one last time and saw no more.

Back across the vale Zul’zanza grinned behind his mask, standing up and shaking the venom laced water from his hands before heading to the entrance and throwing the curtains wide, holding up his fists in triumph. “IT BE DONE ME BRUDDAHS ‘N SISTAHS! De poisoner be with Bwonsamdi now!” he called out.

A cheer arose from the rest of the tribe. They had lost several hunters to this strange poison, but without the alchemist to make it they would lose no more. Maybe one or two, but poisons that potent would not stay potent for long. Within days, maybe a week, the poisons would be useless to their enemies.

Zul’zanza grinned behind his mask, and then he heard something…

The Loa were whispering to him. Something was coming for him, but they couldn’t stop it! They couldn’t even tell what it was!

Zul’zanza’s eyes widened as he felt a tremor go through his body, and then he saw sand falling off his hands and arms, pooling on the ground below. “W-what be dis?! EVERYBUDDY STAY BACK! SOMEONE BE WORKIN’ A HEX ON ME!” he warned, seeing the sands swirling about his form as he reached for his wand and spell foci, gripping them tightly as he tried to work out what was being done and stop it, but it was a magic he’d never felt before! It felt as if he was being pulled in a direction that shouldn’t exist!

He growled, sweat beading on his forehead, but the magic was one he couldn’t grasp at all… and just as suddenly it had a hold on him, and he was falling!

Falling!

Falling through an endless tide of sand!

All around him were shapes and voices he didn’t recognize, echoes of events he didn’t know of, sights he couldn’t understand!

A hole in reality with an army of huge green men charging through it into a swampland he had never seen before.

An army of the undead tearing across one of the human kingdoms to the north of his home.

A massive flying ship made of crystal, wreathed in fire, smashing into an island somewhere far away.

A glacier, a man in a black suit of armor sitting on a throne made of ice.

A giant black dragon raining death and destruction upon the world.

A sea turtle the size of an island with villages on it’s shell.

The portal he saw before, but now the giants had deep reddish brown skin and siege weapons, and the land was no longer a swamp.

A tear in the world, demons pouring out of the sky to lay siege to Azeroth.

The world stabbed by a giant the size of a planet, its glowing blood pouring out everywhere.

A hole in the sky itself, the dead attacking Azeroth en masse.

Dragons of all flights soaring through the skies above an island.

A face, an elf’s face, with eyes like pools of darkness, staring right at him.

Zul’zanza flailed his arms and screamed as he fell, he felt like he was going mad! None of this made sense! Was this a vision from his loa?! Was this a hex designed to drive him crazy?!

Suddenly there was a strange sound, a discordance around him. The world shifted and he landed in a pile of sand, the troll slowly rising and looking around.

“Uhhnnn… me head…” he grumbled, raising his gaze… and seeing a dwarven woman in white and gold armor kneeling before him surrounded by the strange sand as well, coughing out a cloud of dust.

“WOT DA FOOK?!” he shouted, jumping back and raising his wand as a swirl of shadows appeared around it.

The dwarf looked up, then swore and stumbled to her feet, unholstering her hammer and gripping it tight as the runes glowed with holy energy. “A troll?! Here?! Ye’ll not take a Steelhammer by surprise tusk face!” she spat in defiance.

Then they heard a third voice.

The two risked a glance to their side and saw another woman lying there, but one unlike either of them had ever seen. She looked to be some sort of bear-creature but dressed in fine red silks with a scarf of glossy pink material.

“What… happened…” she moaned, getting to her feet, looking around. “Jaie?! Mister Swiftpaw?!” she called out, then she spotted the dwarf and troll. “Oh! Uh… h-hello?” she tried.

Neither one of them lowered their weapons. “Who da fook are ya?” demanded Zul’zanza.

“WHAT th’ feck are ya?!” asked the dwarf woman, cocking her head at her in confusion. “Some sorta fancy furblog?”

The bear-woman looked rather taken aback at that, “What? Oh, come on! I may not have gotten off the Wandering Isle before, but I’m pretty sure most dwarves would know what a pandaren is by now…” she frowned, folding her arms over her chest.

“… pan-what?” asked the dwarf, looking even more confused.

Then they heard a loud gasp, and all their heads turned the other way.

Sitting dazed nearby was a woman who looked like some sort of great bipedal wolf, wearing scrap-metal armor with a ragged cloak and a spear holstered on her back, “… am I dreamin’?” she whispered, staring ahead of her as if she was seeing some sort of priceless treasure.

The three looked where she was staring.

The woman was looking directly at a tree. An ordinary healthy tree covered in green leaves.

“Uh… wot?” asked Zul’zanza, lowering his wand and fetish as he blinked slowly, then he looked around and realized something. “Wait a minute, dis ain’t Stranglethorn… where da fook we be?!”

“Stranglethorn? Th’ feck ya on about tusky? I was in th’ middle o’ Lordaeron City a moment ago!” retorted the dwarf.

“Hang on! Hang on!” shouted the pandaren, “I wasn’t in either of those places! I was on the Wandering Isle! What about you?” she asked as she looked over to the worgen.

The woman was on her hands and knees, feeling over the thick green carpet under her. “… grass. This is… grass…” she whispered.

“… um… w-well yes, it is. Lovely shade too but… if we all came from different places, where are we now?” asked the pandaren.

Zul’zanza narrowed his eyes, then slid his tools back onto his belt. “… gonna be honest wit ya girlie… I don’t know.” he replied, sensing that if nothing else the pandaren wasn’t going to attack him, the dwarf he wasn’t sure about.

The dwarf narrowed her eyes as well, as far as she knew trolls were enemies… but she was in unfamiliar territory, and she didn’t know if the troll was alone.

She had faith in the Light to protect her, but one of the first lessons her father had taught her that had been hard learned through the Second and Third wars was that faith was best when you had sturdy armor and several of your friends to back it up. Best not start a fight you weren’t sure you could finish unless you had to.

“Aye… somethin’ about it feels kinda familiar, but I’m sure I’ve never been here before in me life… How about ye?” she asked, putting her own weapon away and turning to look at the worgen.

The worgen was laying on her belly in the field, arms outstretched, hands gripping the blades of greenery all around her tightly, a look of pure delight on her face. “I. AM TOUCHING. GRASS!” she squealed.

The other three stared at her, then slowly Zul’zanza raised a hand and gave her a thumbs up. The other two looked at him and he shrugged, “Don’t be lookin’ at me! I dunno either!” he insisted.

Finally, the pandaren raised her hands in a placating gesture, “Look… wherever we are, maybe we can find some way back to our homes. Clearly there’s some sort of magic going on. Maybe if we find a mage or someone else who knows magic, they can figure out what happened to us and reverse it. Until then could we maybe… just… not fight each other?” she asked. She was trained in the art of swordplay, a family tradition, but she had only ever trained against wooden dummies before and, more to the point, she didn’t have a sword on her.

The dwarf glanced at the troll, narrowing her eyes, “… aye, fine… I’ll not start a fight if th’ troll won’t.” she nodded slowly.

Zul’zanza nodded back, “I be de same, ya be keepin’ yer weapons put away ‘n so do I.” he replied.

The worgen had her face pressed into the grass now, making small happy noises in the back of her throat.

“So… um…” the pandaren looked between them, “We should probably know each other’s names. I’m Xhu Pai Bao.” she nodded, giving a small bow as she did.

The dwarven woman shrugged but smiled at her. The pandaren at least seemed nice enough, whatever she was. “I be Yvain Steelhammer, daughter o’ Ironforge Mountain ‘n Knight o’ th’ Silver Hand.” she replied.

The troll shrugged, “Call me Zul’zanza…” he replied.

The three looked at the worgen again, then Yvain called out, “OI! PUPPY!”

The worgen snapped out of her reverie and sat up in the field as a raven flapped down next to her, a struggling insect in its beak. “Huh?” she grunted, cocking her head at them. As she did another animal appeared next to her, a large owl with antlers and pure white feathers.

“Yer name.” nodded the dwarf.

“Oh me? Er… huh… been a feckin’ age since I had anyone ta tell it to…” she chuckled awkwardly, then quickly got to her feet, “I’m Loren.” grinned the worgen, “Loren Fullmoon.”

Next Story (Coming Soon!)

Previous Story

[korixae]

nonononononono bcs that was SO GOOD like sooooo good bro you don’t understand i adore 14. i adoreeee him like i literally like him more than 10. he’s like if 10 wasn’t so sad and depressed yk?? like he said donna’s his best friend in the whole wide universe and her loves her (and even he acknowledges this is new for him to be saying) and he says he loves wilf and he’s so- he’s so sillyyy like yes 10 was silly but 14 is like if 10 was allowed to be happy. at the end when he runs around his new tardis (which i love sooosososo much btw like i’m obsessed with it i’m so glad it’s staying around for ncuti’s era i’m already dreading seeing it leave again) and him and donna do that cute little scream together like those stereotype teenage girls 🥹 oh i loved it i loved it i loved it AND! that’s not even talking about how “woke” (ugh hate that word) it was!! like it’s gonna piss sooo many people off omg i love it. him asking the meep’s pronouns? the whole binary-nonbinary-binary? the you wouldn’t understand bcs you’re a male-presenting we can just.. let it go? LOVE the representation had me frothing at the mouth i adoreeee. rtd <3 thank you <3 it was perfect <3 couldn’t have asked for more <3

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Have you watched Emesis Blue? What did you think of it?

(I LOVED IT)

I have! I’ve also written some stuff about it!

Cw: spoilers, obvious dark subject matter

Okay, I wanna talk about the beginning and how well they portrayed true relationship between Jeremy and Fritz. It’s clear they’ve got a mutual trust in one another and it hurts all the more when Fritz finds him dead. I’m still 100% devastated by the ugly ass smile Medic gives in the respawn. That hurts me so bad man. The way they portray Fritz’s mental state decaying is chilling but it sheds him in a light that this was bred from necessity. He clearly cares about Jeremy, there would be no reason for him to go to the slaughterhouse otherwise. And while plagued with these visions he doesn’t want to worry Jeremy with trivial detail.

The setup of all of it was amazing and the amount of Kubrick references absolutely had be absorbed. It’s nice to feel a story flesh out certain properties to something entirely it’s own. The looping sequences sent chills down my spine but my favorite mindfuck were the conaghers.

Zed has to be one of my favorite renditions of Engie because of how they portray him as an active threat rather than passive danger. While he appears cool and sadistic, that coolness is out the window the second he gets a chance to play with someone he deems a threat (ie) Fritz. The moment he said “I’da got you.” and starts giggling showed me just how fucked up he was if he wasn’t already. He’s got a childish ass outlook on this, and him stuck inside a place like Teufort is absolutely NOT GOOD. (Love Teufort but it’s the shittiest map. Also my favorite though.)

Maynards design had me frothing at the mouth, I’m just gonna say that straight up. He didn’t even do nothin outwardly he just kind of went along, which- yeah I guess let your creepy younger brother tourture that poor twink. He really does give off the vibe of a man disconnected, Medics whole bit about strangling him was out of left field but necessity. That scene in particular made me feral.

It showed us what I imagine to be an anomaly in the loop correcting itself, but therefore making the entity more aggressive, the entity in question Fritz. That whole scenes cinematography is brilliant.

Now I get on to my absolute favorite character ever.

Fucking soldier.

Never thought that someone could do such a damn good job emulating Rick may but FUCK did they. The lower, and more stark tone to the character made his wacky lines way funnier: it shows someone who seems incompetent being truly skilled at what they do. Surviving. While his methods are ridiculous it’s his leaps of faith that save him.

With bat out of fucking hell sniper he showed that he doesn’t like to give mercy. He shows a side that would make him antagonistic. But throughout the whole film he shows nothing aside from compassion, even towards the people he barley knows. That elevator scene says it all to me. He has reason to be suspicious but through that he chooses to be kind. It sunk my heart seeing the warfeild scene, it was quiet in a way. It was bleak and chaotic but he seemed perfectly fine to be there for just a moment.

Jane lost… a lot. In this film. He lost his coworker to the pits of an evil fucking loop. He lost a friend in Demo when Demo froze. (That scene broke me btw.) He lost dignity and connection and hope. And afterwards he looked so… dead? He won.

He escaped but what was the cost in the end? The loop continued on. His blank stare shared with medic and the attempt to blow him and the venue itself up over spies inaccurate details really shows his need for the truth. This film helped me out a lot with characterizing Solly in the future he’s honestly a darling.

On the topic of the loop and the way they constructed it holy shit. Those beginning shots were so so affective at building the atmosphere. I thought it’d be found footage till the end but NO, it just set up the mood and shit RAGGH

[spaceumbredoggos]

So Mych For Stardust Chapter Twenty

I woke up at noon, checking in on Dipper. He was passed out in his deer form, nuzzling my wing. I yawned, transforming back into human form and checking my phone. Finding nothing important, I nudged Dipper awake.

“Wah…” Dipper rose his head groggily as I tried to transform back into umbredpggo form. “What happened last night.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” But Dipper wasn’t buying it. His fur bristled and his ears swiveled back to the sides of his head. “Wait, I never was able to move my ears before.”

Shit. Dipper tried to stand up on two legs, but face planted with his antlers into the bed. “What happened to me? Why do I have antlers?”

“Remember that bite wound that’s on your torso when you’re a human.”

“You mean I’m not a human right now?” I shook my head calmly, trying to stroke Dipper to calm him down. “You have rabies. And you have a tendency to transform into a weredego. Werewolf Wendigo. This is why you look like a cross between a wolf and a deer right now. You’ll eventually be able to control this, but it’s important that you rest and don’t freak out.”

“Don’t freak out? How can I not freak out? I’m a monster.”

“Believe me. I’ve been there.” I took a deep breath, holding Dipper to calm him down. “You’re kinda cured of rabies, but you still go through rabid phases. That explains the gap in your memory, as well as the attacks.”

“Attacks?” I kept trying to stroke Dipper to prevent another rabid phase. “Easy. Any intense emotion can bring back another rabid phase. Calm down. Take a deep breath. In. And out. And in…” I noticed that Dipper was able to swallow his own saliva again, causing me to breathe a sigh of relief. “Because your throat can still spasm, you’re going to be on a liquid diet for a while.”

Dipper started whining and getting more agitated. “Easy. Easy.”

“Don’t ’easy easy’ me!!”

I rolled my eyes, noticing Dipper’s hackles raise. “Dipper. I know you’re scared and confused. But some day, you’ll be able to control this.”

Dipper snarled, his mouth starting to froth again. The kid’s gonna starve himself to death if he can’t learn to calm himself down on his own soon. I felt myself transform into my umbredoggo form, arching defensively and preparing for Dipper’s next attack. Dipper snarled as I fanned out my wings. “I see you. You’re agitated. You’re scared. You don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been there. Just calm down and I can get you something to drink. How about some choccy milk?”

Dipper charged, locking antlers with me. I stood still as stone, digging my claws into the floor. I stood there, letting Dipper tire himself out falling and trying to get his antlers unstuck. The froth disappeared from his mouth as he turned his head away. He growled once before bolting away. I dashed after him. “Where are you going?”

“Leave me alone!!”

“I can’t! If you bite someone, they’ll get rabies too. Unless they get a bunch of shots.”

“I thought I was cured!”

“You still carry the virus in your saliva. I’m immune, so I have to be around you at all times so that when you get that bitey urge, you bite me. And not Mabel or Stan or Ford or—“

Dipper tackled me against the wall. “You can fight me all you want on this, but it won’t help. You can fight against the virus. Even though it will always be in your system, it doesn’t have to control you.” I drooped my ears, flailing to get out of Dipper’s grasp.

I heard a knock on the door. “In a minute. I’m dealing with something.” But the door opened anyways. It was Eda. “Quick question.”

“Yeah?” Eda chuckled at the sight of me being pinned at the wall. “This isn’t some kinky shit. Dipper and I are frenemies. He’s got rabies and, can witches catch rabies?”

“No.” I turned around and tackled Dipper, trying to calm him down. “Is there a witchy way you can snap anyone out of rabies?” I panted, my ears drooping. “I want to help him. And I want him to be okay. I want him to not need me. I want him to be okay, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever have that. I want all these things because it tears me apart to see someone stripped of their autonomy due to circumstances outside their control like that.” I held the tears in as Dipper started to calm down. He noticed the tears welling in my eyes and nuzzled my chest. “Dipper. Your antlers are poking me.”

“Kenz.” Dipper’s eyes widened. I let him go and noticed him turn back human. I did the same and collapsed in exhaustion, panting and sweating. “Kenz Kenz Kenz!!!”

“Dipper, you’re gonna get exhausted a lot doing this.” He blushed as I accidentally leaned against him. “Kenz, you keep putting yourself through way too much abuse.”

“It’s not like you could’ve helped it at the time.” I tried to keep my resolve, but almost broke down remembering the trauma from when I used to lose control with my meltdowns when I was a kid. “You treat the symptoms as is with no hard feelings. I understand that you’re feeling off, and it terrified you that you just lost control like that. I’d act like a total jackass too. Because I’ve been there. I’ve scared myself with my own actions. But now I know it’s not me. Just like it’s not you.”

Dipper helped me up to the bed. “Eda, can you get a box of Choccy Milk from the fridge? I’d get it myself, but Dipper tore a hole in my leg with his antlers and I think he hit something that’s a little important given how dizzy I feel.” I leaned on Dipper as the room started spinning. “Kenz!!!” Dipper gazed at the wound on my leg. I noticed him immediately try to stop the bleeding with a bunch of towels. He took his shirt off and tied it around the towels as a makeshift tourniquet. “Dipper. Don’t take your shirt off. You’re not helping the romance allegations.”

Dipper blushed and patted my head. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle yourself—“

I bit his hand. “Fuck!!!” He burst out laughing as I let go. “Who’s the jackass now?”

“There’s nothing between us. We’re friends.”

“I see you blushing.”

“Oh, so you really want this, eh?” I pinned him down, glaring at him intimidatingly. He blushed and caressed my face. Well, there’s only one way to teach him this lesson. I pressed my lips against his, kissing him passionately. Dipper pinned me down and nibbled on my neck. I nuzzled him, purring.

I heard a knock on the door and Dipper and I immediately stopped what we were doing. “Nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” Dipper gazed into my eyes. Eda walked in with the choccy milk. “See Kenz? The cure to rabies isn’t venom. It’s love.”

“Shut the fuck up. We’re only friends.”

“Yeah!!! Just friends!!!” Dipper bashed me with his pillow as I burst out laughing. “I still hate your guts.”

“The feelings mutual.” I gazed into his brown eyes. “Kenz.”

“What?”

“You know your neck is full of hickeys and there’s a massive bite mark on Dipper’s neck.” Eda said in a matter of fact tone. I sat up, moving to the other side of the bed. Dipper laughed. “Pacifica’s gonna kill me.”

It was in that instant that my heart tore in half. “Dipper, about that…” I sighed, meeting him in the eye. “The virus, still being in your system, can be spread through semen and saliva. You could give Pacifica rabies. I already briefed her about the implications of this.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes. “Was this your plan all along? With your umbredoggo form?”

“Did you think I would seriously hit on you the moment I moved in?”

“But you were in heat.”

“I was with Bee the entire time.” I snarled, glaring at Dipper back. “So that’s what you are? A—“

I growled lowly. “Whatever. Spread your rabies to the entire house for all I care. You’re not having me to yourself.”

“I’d say the same to you if it wasn’t such a horrible way to die.”

“So you’re guilt tripping me?”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem is that you think that because you have this oh so dark and tragic past that you can—“

“Say it!!!” I started to fume, glaring at Dipper. He shook, then punched me in the jaw. I was knocked backwards into the floor. “You know what? Forget it. We’re both idiot teenagers who don’t know what the fuck to do with ourselves. Taken advantage of by biology and terrible circumstances. If you wanna shame me for that, then go ahead. But for the record. I wasn’t gonna fuck you. I never wanted to fuck you. You were the one who started this by tenderly touching my face. If there was anyone who wanted someone’s ass, it was you.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this.” Dipper snarled, causing me to lunge at him. I held back, but Dipper didn’t flinch. He glared at me as I held back the tears. “This isn’t you.” I sighed.

“Why do you keep saying that??”

“We never even had any romantic feelings toward each other before you got infected with rabies. You change from horny ass fucker to snapping Rottweiler in the blink of an eye. This isn’t you. Rabies just causes violent personality changes because the virus scrambles the brain.”

“You can keep telling yourself that to dodge the responsibility of your actions.”

“What actions?” For a second, I thought I saw Dipper’s eyes flash yellow. I froze in fear, almost seeing two Dippers. The second, more translucent Dipper was tearing up, just as shocked as I was. I shook and turned around. Of course this behavior is familiar. I curled up on the bed, flashing back to all the fights Bill and I went through. Then all the times him and I would make out or fuck to make up for it. I remembered all the times my dad and step mom would fight, then make the house shake making up. I turned and fled, tears streaming down my face. There’s gotta be another cure for this.

It was at that moment that Eda figured it out too. Her face was stricken with horror beyond comprehension. I bolted in my umbredoggo form towards the lake. I noticed a group of cats walking around. I paused, sniffing the air. There’s cat scent everywhere.

The group of cats from before noticed me. The head of the group, a battlescarred grey and white tabby she cat with ice blue eyes, flared her ragged pelt out and snarled. “ThunderClan! There’s a fox on our territory!!!”

“Fox?” I backed away slowly, sniffing around to find the border. Cats flanked me at all sides, snarling. “It talks?” A golden tabby tom with a lion’s mane and golden eyes flared out his pelt and tackled me, pinning me to the ground. He sounds like Stan.

“What kind of fox has antlers?”

“Look at the claws on this thing. And what’s those thorns on their wrists and tail?”

“And wings like a bat? Are you seeing this, Ivypool?”

The whole group erupted into chatter. I was pinned down by the golden tabby tom, his claws digging into my pelt. I panted as the grey and white she cat walked up to meet my gaze. “What is your name?”

I tried to play dumb, making a couple of fox noises. “We know you can talk. What is your name?”

Does being an umbredoggo mean I understand cats? I panted, drooping my ears to the sides of my head. “I-I’m Kenz. I’m just passing through. Usually, cats run away from me, because usually I’m a human.”

“Human? What in StarClan’s name is that?” The she cat bristled as I shrank down, demonstrating that I was indeed a human. “Twoleg.”

“A twoleg that can transform into a monster.”

“We have a shapeshifter in ThunderClan territory!!”

“ThunderClan, to me.” The grey and white she cat called her clanmates to her. “A strange twoleg has appeared on our territory. A twoleg that can understand us.” I backed away slowly, knowing not to run. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not in the mood to be mauled to death by cats thank you very much. Cats generally don’t want anything to do with twolegs unless they’re kittypets and—“

“How do you know Clanspeak?” There golden tabby bristled. “Look, there’s these books that depict how the clans live and I’m just making educated guesses based on what I’ve read.”

“Books? Read?”

“It doesn’t matter. Now Eda knows about the strange clans of cats that lived by the lake. I of course thought it was a coincidence that she mentioned that. She said they knew a lot about herbs that heal, and…”

“So more twolegs know about us?” The she cat snarled. I then remembered reading in Ford’s first journal that I had found a few weeks ago about his accounts of a group of cats that lived in a forest. The cats eerily resembled the Clan Cats in the Warrior cats books. The Warrior cats are real. And Ford knew about them. But how did he study them? Is this an alternate universe thing?

“I’ve heard enough. A twoleg that knows about clan life is too dangerous to let go. Especially one that can transform into a monster at will.”

“I mean you no harm. I was just having a meltdown induced run through the woods and I stumbled across your territory. Please let me go.”

“You’re coming with us to see Squirrelstar.” I backed away slowly, trying to turn around to run. Cats flanked me at every turn. I shook as I was knocked down by the golden tabby tom. The wind was knocked out of me as I gasped. Come on Kenz. You can’t lose a fight to cats.

I turned and faced the golden tabby tom. I squirmed out of his grip and started to run, but tripped on a root and knocked my head on a tree branch, passing out from the impact.

[sadboy-hours]

Like I’m trying to stay positive but this whole day shaping up to be hell ngl

I went in to update my academic plan (THAT THE COUNSELORS FUCKED UP) and when the counselor took me back I heard people still saying my name before the lady went “oh I have her!” And then her and her coworker argued about how she should have taken me off the list then and I didn’t know what the fuck to do I just fucking sat there and THEN this lady is like “you know, for these youre supposed to make an appointment, just so you know.” And LIKE WHY ARE WE SCOLDING ME?? I EXPECTED to make an appointment, i literally walked in ready to instead see y’all tomorrow but NO. The receptionist literally SAID “Ok go ahead and sit down” LIKE?? SHE LET ME??? WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?? DECLINE HER?? I wasn’t even ASKED if I could make an appointment. It was a straight “ok go sit”.

AND THIS IS AFTER THIS SAME FUCKING LADY WAS LIKE “I don’t have you down for this semester, are you sure you weren’t dropped from your classes?” CAUSING ME TO START FREAKING THE FUCK OUT BECAUSE ‘Oh my god it’s happening again I’m just not gonna be able to finish school’ AND I HAD TO COME OVER AND LOOK BEFORE SHE WAS LIKE “oh there you are! Haha, sorry for the spook!” AS IF I WASNT ABOUT TO DROP DEAD FROTHING AT THE MOUTH BECAUSE I WAS SO AFRAID THAT I WAS A FAILURE AND COULDNT TAKE MY COURSES

And I can’t even take my anxiety medications because they make me sleep so I just sit and tremble aggressively :)

Positive thoughts after I stop shaking, because right now my mind feels like a soup