#as long as you ain’t stealing and claiming it’s yours

[captin-azoth]

Going off of the post of my art being used for an AI Bot

While I don’t support AI and shizzz, my art has gotten stolen a handful of times, to the point where it honestly doesn’t bother me? It just makes me laugh HDGSHSHS, like some of my art has gotten reposted to Redbubble or other sites, low-key I don’t care to be honest, like—if you want to use my art for PFP, or something if that source, just give me credit of some sort, ya know?

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

In this chapter: slow build up! Smut! Love-making, Creampie, slight breeding kink

this chapter is VERY long!!!

Chapter one Chapter three

Chapter two

The sound of voices filled your home as the ladies chatted in your parlor.

“Oh honey is that peach cobbler? Why you would think it was Sunday with the spread you made.” Agnise said as you came from the kitchen with the dish and placed it on the dessert table, causing all the ladies to turn to you.

You had finger sandwiches filled with ham, beignets, one too many cakes, banana pudding, sweet tea and lemonade.

You were in a baking mood and since it was just high noon, you kept it lite for today’s meeting.

You let out a laugh “oh it was nothin’. Thought we deserved a treat since the last time we saw each other. We housewives deserve a little sugar sometimes.” The ladies giggled at your comment.

Grabbing a sandwich, you took a seat by Rosie, “Now what were y’all talking about while i was in the kitchen?”

”Abi was telling us the Smiths youngest was found in bed with that scrappy gent that worked down at the mill” Rosie said, sipping her tea. You gasped, hand over your heart “Ain’t that girl engaged to um oh what that boy’s name?” You snapped your fingers trying to think

”David Johnson” Abigail snickered “Just know Old smith threw a fit. I heard her mother went crying to the church shouting. Ooooh must have been real bad”

Agnise chimed in “Also Harriet told me that Elaine is expecting…and it ain’t her husband’s” shocked gasps filled the room. “Elaine? As in love the church, has three youngins Elaine? Oh that poor woman I don’t know how she do it” Rosie shuddered. Abigail smirked “Yeah poor Elaine, so who’s the father?”

Agnise chuckled “Take a guess”

Literally you, Rosie, and Abigail looked to each other puzzled.

”Pastor Brown from the next town over”  Agnise said.

squeals and laughs erupted from all of you.

You shook with laughter as you took a deep breathe. “Ok ok enough of that. How have y’all been?”

Rosie was running a boutique, New Orleans finest clothes and it was really taking off. She talked about how some cheap fabrics came in and she ain’t have a clue what to do with them.

Agnise happily chirped about how her two oldest had got accepted in some fancy school on the other of town.

Abigail complained that she thought the maid was stealing her clothes, claiming too many of her fine dresses were missing out of her closet.

”Oh dear how is that handsome husband of yours? I was hoping to the man when I was coming in.” Rosie said smiling. 

Rosie and Alastor were the closest besides Mimzy. He often dropped by to have her make your clothes and tailor some of his suits.

”Oh you know how Alastor is” you waved your hand, “he set out early this morning to the radio station. We’re suppose to down to Mimzy’s club tonight”

Agnise and Abigail looked at you shocked “That ol rigity joint? Oh darling no. That man makes good money, why y’all going down there?”

You had met Agnise and Abigail when you were in school.  They were a bit more Polish than Rosie who didn’t mind a good time.

”I think that lounge is rather charming. The music is good.” You defended.

”Well enjoy it now, I had a dream bout fishes and you know what that mean” Agnise said, giving you a knowing look.

You blinked, then blushed, taking a sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you feigned dumb.

She smirked, red lips curling “You’ve been hiding news from us haven’t you?”

Abigail looked at you, “Are you?”her honey eyes roamed over your figure.

”Ladies no! I’ve told y’all me and Alastor haven’t discussed children. We don’t have time for that” you said pouting at their accusations.

”What man don’t want his own running around? The two of you been married for a few years now, i had half expected at least something.” Agnise said.

”Alastor has just settled in good as radio host. What kind of wife would I be if I just randomly suggested having a little one running around? No I couldn’t.” You gripped your cup, looking down.

You and Alastor hadn’t really discussed children. You figured you would wait a few years to get settled into your marriage before thinking of children.

With alastor’s career taking off, you didn’t have it in you to just spring the notion on him.

You didn’t mind. It was quite nice not having to clean and look after a baby.

BUT 

You did want to potentially have children with Alastor.

The house would be a lot livier and you thought Alastor would make a great father.

”Y’all ain’t getting any younger dear!” Agnise said “i mean unless there’s a another woman invovled”

Rosie let out a hiss, glaring at the woman “Oh shush that! Alastor wouldn’t do that! He loves his wife too much to even look at another woman”

Agnise shrugged.

Abigail patted your hand “Honey don’t listen to her. I am sure you’ll have a whole litter running around afterwhile. Not having children ain’t all that grand.”

You pouted. That did not make you feel better.

Rosie seeemd to pick on up your down mood and interjected

”We came to discuss books! Enough of this husband and children talk! So we left off at Charles securing the mistress!”

The little gathering went on without a problem, but the comments and conversation still bounced in your head. 

Alastor wouldn’t seek out another woman just because I haven’t…right?

You and Alastor’s intimate life was fine to your knowledge.

 The man wasn’t the most affectionate, but he did try. 

He was loving and gave you anything you wanted.

THATS what any wife wanted right?

Not having children didn’t seem to make him any less doting with you.

But you still felt that nagging doubt as you tried to reassure yourself.

”Bye now! Tell Nathaniel I said hello and Abi please just see if the maid took your dress!”you hollered from your porch, waving the ladies as they smiled and walked down the street.

You sighed. Rosie had stayed behind and was cleaning up.

”oh Rosie you’re a guest please let me” you said grabbing the dirty dishes.

”I’ve been here so much this is practically my home girl please.”she laughed as she grabbed the tablecloth and put in in the hamper.

”Those two are certainly a handful. Don’t take what they said to heart. They are just bitter their husbands don’t love on them like yours” she chided.

You hummed. Rosie was right. What did it matter that you didn’t have kids? That didn’t change anything.

”I know Ro but I feel like I’m failing as a wife. But i promise I’m fine I swear” you quickly said as she gave you a look.

She looked at the clock “Oh my well look at the time! Do give Alastor my love dear”

You gave her a hug and walked her out, waving her goodbye as she waltzed down the road.

You were now alone.

The house was quiet and you had cleaned up everything so you wouldn’t have to look at the mess in the morning.

You rolled your shoulders, sighing at the tension and decided a quick nap wouldn’t hurt as you wait for Alastor to come home.

—————————————————————————————————

The sun began to slowly set through the trees as Alastor ran a bloody hand through his hair, the brown strands slicking back as he breathed deeply. The man had put up quite a fight, but luckily Alastor could quickly deal with his little problem. 

He had planned to take his wife out for tonight, but with the way he was feeling, he would rather be in your embrace and sleep.

He would stop and get you your favorite flowers as an apology and maybe cook for you instead. A soft smile appeared on his face as he imagined your face as he came in with flowers and kissed your soft lips as he propose hell cook for dinner.

Soft jazz would be playing and after the meal he would ask you to dance. Peppering your face in kisses as you laughed at him, thinking he was silly.

And maybe afterwards, he could indulge himself in you. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of your face contorted in pleasure. 

Oh yes he was sure you wouldn’t mind why he came home late

He hid away his shovel in an old storage house and changed clothes.

Getting in his car, he hummed along to the radio as he thought of what to make for dinner.

—————————————————————————————————-

Alastor softly closed the back door as he slowly set down the flowers and groceries. He peeked his head in the parlor and found you sleeping on the couch.

He quickly made his way upstairs, hid his clothes in the back of your closet, showered, and went back down stairs.

He grabbed the flowers and slowly slid beside you, pulling you into his lap.

You snuggled into his neck, eyebrows scrunching, waking up ”hmmm Alastor?” you groaned as he snickered. He pressed his lips to your plump cheek “Seems my darling wife had a very long day. Seems I got caught up at work and didn’t catch the time. But…” he pressed the flowers to your nose as you took a deep inhale of the flowers, smiling “I do hope you would forgive dear.”

Your heart fluttered at the man, standing to put the bouquet in a vase.

You caught sight of the time and gasped “oh no! I can’t believe I fell asleep for that long, lord on high I ain’t got a single thing out to cook.” You went to make your way to the kitchen, but Alastor was quick to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his lanky frame. “Don’t you worry about dinner darlin’ I got it. I had promised you a night out and forgot. So to pay for my offense Ill cook dinner and why don’t you go upstairs and put on something pretty  for me hmm?” He pressed a few soft kisses along the column of your neck, making your breath hitch slightly, before patting your ass to get you moving towards the stairs.

Once you made it back downstairs, the smell of dinner made your stomach growl.

Alastor was just setting th plates as you entered the kitchen. “Book club must have been something today, I see you baked a lot of goods today. Good thing I checked before thinking of making dessert” He turned to actually look at you.

Gorgeous is what he thought as he took you in.

You opted for a simple slip dress that fell just before your knees. How enticing.

 You accessorized with your pearls and even had your hair curled slightly.

He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bring a hand to his lips, kissing it as he looked at you with utter devotion.

”My my don’t you look lovely dear” he whistled, twirling you around slowly.

You blushed and looked towards the stove “Dinner smells great Al, what did you make?” He ushered you to the dining table and pulled you chair out for you to sit before fetching tonight’s dinner.

Shrimp and grits in one bowl and jambalaya.

For dessert he took a piece of butter cake that you made earlier and chilled sweet tea and lemonade.

You moaned in delight as the flavor of the jambalaya burned your mouth. “Oh Al! You added a bit more spice this time but it goes good with the grits. oh i love your jambalaya.” You praised him.

You practically danced in your seat as you ate causing Alastor to chuckle.

”I never tire of your praise for my mother’s recipe my dear. I must say this cake might just be my new favorite” he said.

You decided to fill him the latest gossip you heard today from the ladies

”Rosie sends her love by the way. Oh you would not believe what Agnise told us today…” you started.

Alastor had a lazy smile on his face as you talked animatedly about todays gossip. He nodded along and even gasped at the details you shared. You made him swear he wont repeat it anywhere, including on the radio.

You took a sip of lemonade ”Agnise made a comment that she was surprised we haven’t had kids yet. Can you believe that woman?” Alastor tilted his head “I wouldn’t put it pass that one. Well what did you say?”

Alastor asked taking in your reaction as you pouted, swirling your fork in your grits before stabbing a shrimp. You sighed “I told her that we just weren’t ready. I mean you just got settled in at the studio good. Then the nerve of that woman to say that you were probably seeing another because I wasn’t putting out.” You mumbled that part, feeling  pinges of doubt start to rise in you as you looked at him.

Alastor scoffed “darling I only ever had eyes for you” he reached across the table to grasp your hand, thumb fiddling with your wedding ring. “Nothing will make me look at you different. To me, you’re perfect. You are much more than I could ever deserve” he smiled at you. “Do you want children darlin?” He asked.

You blinked, a warm blush crept up your cheeks “I-I mean it might has crossed my mind once of twice, but I-I dont know” you looked away, feeling shy.

Alastor grinned “I think you would make a wonderful mother my dear. Through I will admit having to share you i dont know about that” he laughed “buuuuut if having children will make you happy, who am I to say no?” His voice dropped an octave as he smiled at you.

You were shocked. You hadn’t thought that Alastor would be open to having children. But you didn’t just want to have kids because of social pressure. You wanted it to be something you were sure of…

”Its a big responsibility if we have children Al”you whispered. He hummed, shrugging “Dear I make more than enough that our children will have comfortable upbringing, besides Ill be there the whole step of the way”

That reassurance made your heart swell.

You smiled, a soft laugh bubbling out of your chest “Then I guess well see what happens then huh?”

You finished dinner, Alastor leaving the dishes to soak and you giggled as he dragged you upstairs. “Alastor! Hahaha dont you have work tomorrow?” You entered your shared bedroom and squealed as he lavished your exposed shoulders in kisses.

He groaned in response as he unbuttoned his shirt as his hands gripped at your hips.

”what do that have to do with us delving into the throws of pleasures darlin? Its been quite some time since I’ve paid you proper attention.”

Your back hit the duvet as he situated himself between your thighs. Your dress bunched at your hips, exposing your lacy garter. His hand toyed with the fabric, lips curling in a smirk “Were you planing to seduce me dear?” You shook your head as you curled your arms around his neck, pulling his head to meet his lips.

”Hmmm lets keep the pearls and garter on” he grinned down at you.

”Nngh! Ah! Ah! Ha! Ah! Oh god!”you cried out as Alastor thrusted into you. Your fingers gripped at his hair as you moaned into his neck, kissing over the red bruises forming on his skin.

Fingers flexed on your thigh, keeping your leg pressed into your stomach. The only sound that filled the room were your sweet moans and his soft grunts and the slap slap of his dick burying into your cunt.

Alastor’s back muscles flexed as you raked a hand along his back, groaning as your nails left burning trails into his flesh.

”One more. You can give me one more can’t you darlin?” He asked huskily as he snapped his hips into yours.

Your body buzzed as your third orgasm approached. The pearl necklace that hung around your neck, bounced with your breasts as Alastor nipped at your neck. One of his hands crept up your chest to play with one of your nipples. Tugging and pinching the perk peak as your cunt clenched around him.

”I can’t wait to see you pregnant ma cher. All nice and round, carrying my child.”

A sharp pinch had you whining “These lovely tits of your full of milk god I can’t wait to taste it” his head shifted to your chest, his warm mouth taking the mound into his mouth. Teeth and tongue teased as his thrusts picked up pace.

”A-Al! Oh! Oh! P-Please!” You threw your head back in pleasure.

Alastor couldn’t help but let his twisted feelings take over, a hand wrapped around your throat, applying slight pressure as you whined.

He brought his face back to yours, nose brushing against yours as your swollen lips enticed him to suck and bite at them. He maneuvered both your thighs to be pressed against your stomach, giving him leverage to hammer into you soppy heat.

”You want me to give you a baby darlin? Hmm? Want me to fill the needy cunt of yours and spill my seed into you?”you moaned, eyes glazed with lust.

Alastor smirked “Use your words baby. C’mon” a harsh thrust made your toes curl.

”y-yes please please Alastor give me a baby!” You cried.

A wild look was in his eyes 

“Oh ill give you all the babies you want. I’ve wanted to see you swollen with my child since our wedding day. You’ll look so pretty baby. All filled with my cum and swollen. Yeeesss what a lovely sight you’ll make”

His thumb worked tight circles on your clit as your back arched into him as your orgasm ripped through you. Alastor slammed his lips on yours to swallow the loud moan that tried to spill from your lips.

He grunted as his hips shuddered. Chasing his orgasm as he rode yours out. With a hiss, his dick twitched and soon warm cream painted your gummy walls.

With a sigh, he coaxed his tongue against yours as he gave you a few more soft thrusts.

Panting and flushed, your legs fell limp as he pulled out and smirked at the mess he had made of you.  A white stream slowly pooling out of you.

Spent and feeling the blissful afterglow, you curled into the covers, wincing at the stickiness between your thighs. Alastor pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead “normally Ill clean you up, but since were trying no need.” He brushed a curl out of your face as you began to fall asleep

”Alastor?” You said tiredly.

He hummed, as he ran his hand up and down your arm, admiring the red bruises on your neck and shoulder

”I love you”

He grinned as you dozed off.

”I love you too dear”

———————————————————————

Soooo what did you guys think??? Bit of a slow burn yes? we got a peak into what Alastor was doing hehehee

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau  @karolinda007-blog @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000 @luzzbuzz @stygianoir @kiralaufeyson84 @for-hearthand-home @luzzbuzz

[ink-n-shadow]

being a buckle bunny for outlaw!141

BUCKLE BUNNY

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're the new pretty little thing at outlaw!141's camp

𝜗𝜚 pairing: outlaw!141 x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: briefest mention of smut (minors—DNI), mentions of oral (m!receiving), sleazy!141, they're all criminals, allusions to reader being "passed around", horribly unedited, bad ending

like they would find you in some podunk town out west, a pretty little thing born and raised on a farm and now trying to make ends meet working as a barmaid in a rundown saloon.

gang leader!price lays eyes on you first, noticing you as soon as he’s leading his boys inside the swinging saloon doors after a particularly successful heist. and he’s more than happy to hand over his gun belt to you once he claims his spot at the bar, barking out to the other boys to “listen to the kind lady, won’t ’cha?” he’s all “thank you, sugar” and “ain’t you a pretty lil thing” as you pour him glasses of whiskey, enough to kill a whole horse but not outlaw john price. he barely blinks as he drains his 3rd glass.

drifter!simon, who’s a long ways from his hometown and the life he used to live, is standing in the corner of the saloon, thick corded muscles nearly bulging out of the denim shirt he’s wearing as he keeps his arms crossed over his chest. he wears a thick black bandana around his face, up over his nose and completely concealing his face other than the honey brown eyes that peak out from his blond lashes. he has the hands of a man who has killed before, but his eyes are proof of the pretty face that lies beneath the mask.

gunsmith!johnny is roaming around with outlaw!kyle, one arm slung over kyle’s shoulders and the other gripping the mug of beer tight in his fist as they prowl the saloon for an easy target. it’s a usual routine for them: johnny distracts the target with his charisma and random weapon knowledge while kyle digs his sticky fingers into their pockets and robs them blind. and they usually get away with it, until price is tight scolding them from his spot at the bar and immediately turning back to you to apologize.

“m’sorry ‘bout them, sugar. been trying to train them, teach ‘em some manners—haven’t been very successful, have i?” gang leader!price would say over the rim of his whiskey, a wry smile plastered on his lips as his eyes rake over your body.

it would take some convincing from price and the other boys for you to follow them back out to their camp, promises of a little horse riding and a look at whatever knickknacks they had gotten (stolen) enough to have your arms wrapped around drifter!simon’s burly torso as his horse clops down the dirt roads and towards the woods.

and you just never left after arriving at their camp, comfortable being passed around and shared amongst the four men if it meant eating johnny’s hunted down and cooked deer meat and having price’s cock down your throat every night.

at least it's better than slaving your days away at the saloon day in and day out, right?

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[awkward-walking-potato]

request for jealous remy 👀 maybe some guy is flirting with reader at a bar and how he would react? maybe pietro has been flirting with reader a little to serious for the cajuns liking? definitely maybe some nsfw reaction 👀

The neon lights of the bar flickered in a hypnotic rhythm, casting a soft, colorful glow over the dimly lit room. It was a lively night—laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady beat of music filled the air, creating an atmosphere of easygoing revelry. I leaned against the counter, nursing my drink as I chatted with Pietro, who had been playfully flirting with me all evening.

Pietro was charming, in that quick-witted, cocky way of his. He’d been dropping compliments and teasing remarks, his silver hair catching the light every time he leaned in closer. Normally, I would’ve brushed off his flirtations as just his way of having fun, but tonight, something about it felt a bit…different. His words had a sharper edge, his gaze lingering a little too long.

I didn’t think much of it, though, until I felt a familiar presence at my side.

“Y’know, cher,” a deep, smooth voice drawled from behind me, dripping with a mix of Southern charm and something darker, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think Pietro here was tryin’ to steal somethin’ that don’t belong to him.”

I turned my head, heart skipping a beat as I met Remy LeBeau’s red-on-black gaze. He was leaning against the bar, casual as ever, but there was a tension in his stance, something simmering just beneath the surface. His smirk was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Pietro grinned, not missing a beat. “Hey, Remy. Just having a little fun, no harm done, right?” He flashed me a wink, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.

But Remy didn’t seem to share the sentiment. He stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between us. “Fun’s fun, Pietro, but you might be pushin’ your luck tonight.”

The playful tone in his voice couldn’t quite hide the edge of possessiveness, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was different. This wasn’t just Remy being his usual laid-back self—this was him staking a claim, making it clear that I was his, whether anyone else liked it or not.

Pietro’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between us, clearly sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial, LeBeau,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

With one last mischievous grin in my direction, Pietro zipped off, leaving me alone with Remy, who was now standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. “Remy, you didn’t have to—”

He cut me off, his hand reaching out to gently cup my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look into those burning red eyes. “Didn’t have to what, cher? Watch some speedster make eyes at my girl?”

His voice was low, dangerously smooth, and it sent a thrill through me. Remy was always so effortlessly charming, but this side of him—the side that was possessive, almost predatory—was something else entirely. It made my pulse race, a mix of anticipation and desire curling in my stomach.

“He was just being friendly,” I managed to say, though the words felt flimsy even to me.

Remy’s thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his gaze darkening. “Friendly, huh? That what you call it?” His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a whisper now. “Ain’t no one who gets to be ‘friendly’ with you like that. Not while I’m around.”

My breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You’re mine, cher,” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Ain’t gonna let anyone forget that. Especially not you.”

Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a fierce, possessive kiss that left no room for argument. His hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine with a hunger that made my knees weak.

I melted into him, my hands clutching at his jacket as I kissed him back just as fiercely, the rest of the bar fading away until there was nothing but the two of us. His other hand gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, the heat between us building with every passing second.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together. His eyes bore into mine, his voice a rough whisper. “Ain’t no one who’s ever gonna make you feel the way I do, cher. Don’t forget that.”

I didn’t think I could forget it if I tried. The intensity in his gaze, the way his body felt against mine—it was all-consuming, a fire that threatened to burn me alive, but one I had no desire to escape from.

“Remy…” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I felt for him.

But before I could say anything more, he was kissing me again, slower this time, but no less intense. His hands roamed over my body, claiming every inch of me as his own, and I couldn’t help but gasp as his lips trailed down my neck, leaving a searing path in their wake.

He pulled back just enough to whisper in my ear, his voice thick with desire. “Let’s get outta here, cher. I got plans for you tonight, and none of ’em involve sharing you with anyone else.”

A shiver of anticipation ran through me at his words, and I nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Remy’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he took my hand, leading me out of the bar and into the night, where the promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air between us.

As we left, I couldn’t help but glance back, catching sight of Pietro at the far end of the bar. He raised his glass in a silent toast, a knowing smirk on his face. But the moment passed, and then it was just Remy and me, the cool night air wrapping around us as we walked away.

The second we were outside, Remy pulled me close again, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was all-consuming. He didn’t stop, not even as he led me toward his motorcycle, the kiss only breaking when we reached it. He climbed on first, then pulled me on behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist as the engine roared to life.

As we sped off into the night, the wind whipping through my hair, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Remy’s possessiveness, his jealousy—it had only made me want him more, and the way he had reacted to Pietro’s flirting left no doubt in my mind about how much he wanted me.

And tonight, I was more than ready to show him just how much I wanted him too.

[ozarkthedog]

summary: despite your reluctance, joel wants to fill you up.

kinktober ii: cnc + breeding

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Joel Miller x afab!reader. consensual non consent. threat of breeding. rough sex. asphyxiation. slight mention of aftercare. no beta.

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: per this post and @thornsnvultures sliding into my DMs with this thot. probably not my best but i'm posting it anyways. 🤷‍♀️

𝐌𝐚𝐬���𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

He missed the power. The control. The brutality. 

The topic had been discussed only once but the point was clear. Joel did not want to raise a child in this new, horrific world.

Settling down in Jackson with you had been good for him. The boring monotony of day-to-day life. It wasn’t just surviving. It was making something out of nothing, growing together. Helping your fellow man; not just stealing from him (or worse).

Still, that unsettling need would return from time to time. It’d take root in the base of his skull like one of the countless bullets he’d left in his victims. The savagery beckoned him like a gnat scratching at the surface. The urge to claim sinking its fangs in once again.

Normally he’d go on a long hunt. Seek out unseemly folk and leave a path of destruction in his wake. This morning, however, a storm brewed outside. The windows glitter with a layer of frost as the wind howls through Jackson.

You flinch awake. Trepidation settling in your belly. You know this feeling. You’ve been here many times before. You’ll stay by Joel’s side until your last breath. So you do what you’ve both discussed; wait.

A brute hand forces you onto your front. A gasp falls from your lips as a heavy weight settles on your back. Your lungs seize under the pressure making blood pulse behind your eyes. 

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Joel sneers. He drags the hook of his nose up the side of your face, smiling as you struggle to suck a breath in. “Got you right where I want cha’, pretty girl.”

You jab an elbow back hoping to clip his jaw but he easily cages in it a steely grip. He yanks your left arm out from under your body with a dark chuckle and roughly secures your wrist in one of his large palms. 

“I like ‘em feisty.” he grits, dipping his head down and brushing his lips along the shell of your ear. “Gets my blood pumping” he drawls, a sick grin tugging at his lips. “and something else too.” 

He shifts his weight, lessening the pressure on your upper body, and grids his hard cock against your ass. You instinctively twist in his grip, bucking your hips and tugging on his hold. Joel hollers above you, “Yeah, that’s it. Show me how tough you are, sweet girl.” 

You whine, knowing there is no way out. He was much too strong. Still, it was part of the game.

“You know, it’ll be better for you if you just give in.” the warm, soothing words flutter into your brain calming your heart for just a brief moment. 

You know what he’s capable of. You’ve seen the brutality, the rage but you also know about the quiet side. The way he holds your hand when you walk into town. The soft eyes he gives you when you cuddle into his side. The way he’s so tender with you when he cradles your face in his hands.

“Wanna fill you up.” Joel murmurs. Pulling your right knee up to your chest before sliding a large hand along the apex of your sex. “That’s my pretty pussy.” he groans as he drags a lazy finger up the slice of you. “Can never get enough of it.” he coos into your hair before kissing the top of your spine. “Of you.”

“Joel- no, please.” you whimper, shaking your head. “You can’t.”

He “tsks” behind you. A brute hand catches the back of your neck and digs his digits into the tender column. Warm breath brushes the shell of your ear as he leans in close. “You think you’re in a position to call the shots? Stupid girl.”

A gasp catches in your throat when he taps the heavy tip of his cock on your barely wet opening. He notches the bulbous crown just past your folds before sliding in ever so slowly. He takes his time filling you up. He wants this to last. Doesn’t want to know where he begins and you end. 

Your core envelopes the weight and size of him. Molding around his thick length until you’re busting at the seams. “Thatta’ girl.” Joel grits through clenched teeth as your velvet walls make room for him. His cock brushes your cervix with a brazen kiss as he bottoms out making you wince.

His fingers dance cruelly on the crux of your mound, tugging on the hair that grows earning him a sharp cry before moving south. He circles your clit with expertise, knowing your body better than you did. A dense knot of unsavory pleasure forms in your belly, slowly growing tighter with every flick of his wrist. 

He finally rocks his hips and the air punches from your lungs. He sets a constant motion, sawing his length in and out. In and out. From his bulbous tip to the soaked base of his shaft, he takes. He defiles.  

Joel tugs your body close, wrapping his left arm around your font and splaying between your breasts effectively caging you against his broad form. “You feel so fuckin’ good, sweet girl.”

He grinds his cock deep after a weighty thrust, pushing his hips against the cushion of your ass. “Gonna fill you up.” he grunts, snapping his hips and pressing into the deepest part of you. “Make ya all round. Leave ya a drippin’ mess.” 

Joel’s hips snap hard. It forces the air from your lungs and shakes your bones. If it weren’t for his hold you would’ve rolled to the other side of the bed. 

A pathetic mewl tumbles from your lips, anxiety boiling over. “Joel, no!” you cry, praying he pulls out before it’s too late. 

Without thinking, you toss your head back and catch the top of his brow, bruising his eye socket with a curt blow.

The room goes eerily still. The man behind you is deathly silent as your heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from your chest.

A heavy hand circles your neck and tugs you backward. Your neck is instantly constricted, barely allowing any air to pass by under his palm. He pins your head against his shoulder forming his large, powerful frame against your shivering one. “Wrong fuckin’ move.”

Ice runs up your spine, chilling your insides to the bone as his fingers press on your veins, seeking out the one that makes you comply every time you try to revolt.

"Just for that, I'm gonna keep fuckin' ya after I fill you up." he sneers. "Make sure it sticks."

Blood pounds under your skin as the room spins. Your sight glazes over while he shoves his cock past your walls as they involuntarily clench around his girth from the rough treatment. 

His cock swells, bigger and bigger with every drive. “Shit.” he hisses, clutching your throat just a bit tighter as his hips stutter. A black mist slowly begins to crowd your sight, your eyes roll backward, mind and body go numb.

In a flash, he loosens his grip on your neck and pulls from your warmth, circling his shiny, soaked cock with a tight grip. He pumps his length, chasing his high before coming with a raspy moan and spilling hot ropes along the curve of your ass.

A heavy blanket of silence falls over the room while Joel catches his breath. He feels the rage melting away as his heart slowly beats to its usual rhythm. That all-consuming need has been stamped out. For now. 

In a moment, he’ll scoop you into his arms and leave a soft kiss on the crown of your head. He’ll hum words of love while you relax against his chest and eventually fall back to sleep. 

You close your eyes and wait like you always do.

running away now. 😅 feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

[atomicbland]

Just a Mirage Pt. 2

mmmm radioactive food... sorry this one is so short! I promise pt. 3 will be longer. And actually have some action...

Again thank you @ghoulphile for encouraging the brain worms!

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

Skinning and gutting the rabbits, despite how gruesome it could be was no problem for you. However, making sure Dogmeat kept her distance from the food was another problem. She kept shoving her head under your arms in a feeble attempt to steal a nibble of radioactive rabbit’s foot. Meanwhile, her owner lounged like a sack of tatos on the tattered sofa, huffing chems and humming a tune. 

Dogmeat whined next to you, pawing your arm. It would’ve been cute if it wasn’t for her long nails that scratched into you, almost breaking skin. Your patience with her was waning, resorting to gently yet firmly pushing her back so that you could finish butchering your meal. She stubbornly returns to your side pawing at your arm again, this time with more force, drawing blood. “Shit!” Seething at the sharp new feeling in your forearm. 

“Get your fucking dog out of my way!” You snap at the Ghoul. 

He nods his head in your direction, lazy and high. “She ain’t my dog.” 

Without breaking your glare from the rotten cowboy you cleave your knife down faster than he could process in his chem-fueled haze startling the trouble-making mutt, causing her to yelp. The Ghoul’s eyes grow wide in fear, his lips curl into a sneer at the thought of what just done- make dinner out of Dogmeat. A severed rabbit’s leg whizzes over his head landing somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Dogmeat bolts after it taking the straight shot lunging over the couch the Ghoul claimed. His look of anger turns into something else, perhaps respect as if you proved you weren’t one to fuck with. That’s the only acknowledgement you get and he returns his important task of emptying another Jet inhaler. Leaving you alone to skewer the carcasses and place them over the firepit to cook. 

You sigh and crack open the can of water, drinking it greedily as it soothes your dry throat, not paying attention to the rivulets that miss your mouth and find their way into your cleavage, mingling with the ever-present sweat. Despite your thirst you decide to save the rest of the water to help wash down your dinner, the radioactivity leaving a sour, bitter taste to anything it touches no matter how well seasoned. You opt to quench your remaining thirst with something else, producing the unlabeled bottle of booze from your bag. It uncorks with a pop, immediately gaining the Ghoul’s attention. He watches as you take a swig, the alcohol burns its way down to your stomach, and you shiver from the harsh taste. You hold it towards him in offering. “Found it in the kitchen. Taste’s like hell.” 

He stares lips in a tight frown at the thought of having to move anymore today. A gloved finger gestures for you to bring it to him.  

“I’m not your fucking dog. If you want it then get off your ass and get it.” You take another sip, slamming it next to you as you return to roasting the rabbits. The mix of the fire’s heat and the Ghoul’s abrasive attitude had you running hot. If you had known how much of a prick he was you would’ve hired someone else to be your escort. The geezer walked around like he was the hottest shit in the West. He gave zero fucks who he pissed off, friend or foe, captive or companion, all the same to him. But he was THE best, you knew it, and despite being warned before approaching him that The Ghoul was as rotten as he looked, you hired him. A sharpshooter with quick wit and charisma that got him out of the hottest shit and the biggest fucking asshole this side of the Wasteland.

“Well,” he huffed, the springs of the couch groaning under the shifting weight. “You ain’t my dog,” footsteps accented his words as you could hear him moving closer towards you. You felt fingers lace through your scalp and then a hard tug, forcing you to meet his eyes. “But you damn sure’s a bitch.” 

You lock eyes with him, a sick twisted smile puts his stained teeth on show. He made you so mad you could spit. Though you thought better of it, thinking he would’ve derived some sick pleasure from it. In a fluid motion, hand still firmly in your hair he scoops the booze up greedily finishing the bottle in one long drink, throwing the bottle aside. It’s not until he reaches for you can of water that you find your words.

“Fuck you! Let go of me!” Your nails dig into the leather of his jacket, desperately attempting to get him to release you from his grip. 

The man ignores you and takes a long slow drink, watching your eyes grow like saucers as he takes back the water he gave you. He laughs, a low gritty rumble. “Don’t feel too good when someone’s fuckin’ round with ya now does it, sweetheart?” 

The grip on your scalp tightens, and you can feel your unwelcomed arousal pooling between your thighs. You loathed how touch-starved you were, telling yourself that once you were settled at the Old World Wall you’d find a quick fuck to satisfy your needs. Though in your desperation early into the trip you had asked how many extra caps it would take for your escort to whore himself out to you, he laughed in your face. Since then he had been rougher with you, making a lude comment anytime he manhandled you and in the context of having your needs satisfied you wouldn’t have minded but the constant rough teasing was bordering on torture. 

You kept eye contact, trying hard to ignore the bulge that became outlined by the Ghoul’s pinstripe pants. His glare was hungry as his eyes followed the beads of nervous sweat that traveled down your neck and into the crevice of your breasts lingering at the soft dark skin for a touch too long for a man who had rejected you. The fire crackling and sizzling was the only thing keeping the room from being silent as he studied you.

“May I- May I please have my water back?” Your voice breaks whatever trance he is in.

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He tugged your head back, placing the can to your lips tilting it so that the water rushed down, forcing a stream down your throat. In your best efforts, you drink down what you can, the rest finds its way down your shirt dampening it, the fabric clinging to your form. 

The two of you eat dinner in silence, ignoring the tension growing between the two of you. You think to ask him for his name, where he came from, why he became a bounty hunter, so many questions swam in your head but the dumbest one is vocalized. “If she’s not your dog then who does she belong to?” You ask throwing a too-chewy piece of meat the dog’s way, she catches it in her mouth with surprising accuracy. 

“Dead man’s dog.” The Ghoul answers without looking at you, throwing Dogmeat the remains of his rabbit, large chunks of meat still on the bones. Ghouls didn’t need to eat much yet he insisted on a whole rabbit for himself. You try to hide your frustration in his wasteful attitude, that meat was smoked enough to pack away to have in the morning at the very least. He meets your glare, flashing you that damned smile. “Sorry sweetheart, big breakfast.” 

He kicks his legs back up on the sofa pulling a cigarette from his ragged leather jacket and placing it between his teeth. He reaches back into his pocket for his lighter confused to find it missing. While the Ghoul pats himself down in search of his lighter you rifle through your bag, tossing him the tattered book of emergency matches. He doesn't even thank you, striking a match across his pant leg, the small fire illuminating his hollowed face in amber light. 

  “Say, sweetheart,” he starts between puffs. “You ain’t happen to have ‘nother one of them bottles o’ moonshine in that bag of yours?” 

You dump the contents of your bag out, making it easier to find what you need in the flickering of the firelight, forgetting about your tin of mystery fruit as it clatters to the floor, lid falling open and dispersing what you’ve concluded were rather strange tomatoes. One rolls across the floor to the Ghoul, he picks it up before Dogmeat can grab it. as you clamor to scoop them up and return them to the container. He continues to examine it rolling it around in his fingers, you catch him staring at them fondly. 

“Any ideas what they are? Found ‘em in a glass house past the kitchen.” You find yourself sitting on the floor next to the Ghoul holding the now full container. Before you can take one for yourself he snatches it from you, ashing out his cigarette in the lid you still held  

  Ignoring your protests he took a bite. A soft crunch echoed through you as red flesh gave way to his teeth and you watched in awe as sweet juice dribbled down the marled skin of his chin. He sighed into another bite ravishing the sweet tenderness he hadn't felt in centuries.

You stared in awe, this grotesque figure relishing in something so small and insignificant in this harsh wasteland. This man’s favorite food was cigarettes and chems yet here he was about to polish of the tin of ugly tomatoes. You watched as he liked the sweet smelling juices from his glove- part of you wondered what his mouth felt like elsewhere. His tongue moved quickly and swiftly at the folds of leather mindful to not waste a drop. He had greedily finished off the small bushel of berries you had scavenged while you were distracted. He chuckled at your expression, you were thoroughly wet from watching him work his mouth.

"It's been a long, long time since I had somethin’ that sweet in my mouth," his voice is gravely and low. He smirks at you as he hands you the now empty container, "Would've saved you some but they ain't for girlies like you."

You huff in frustration, snatching the metal container from his hands. "That didn't answer my question." Your tone is more pouty than you intended and you just hope he doesn’t catch it.

"Strawberries." He huffs, springs squeaking as he settles further into the ragged couch reclining as he produces his inhaler and takes a long draw of Jet. The chem vapors curl and dance off his parted lips. "Like I said, they'll make a smooth skin like you sick." He settles pulling his hat over his face as a lazy hand brushes through the fur of Dogmeat who was happily snacking on the leafy discarded tops of the red berries.

A ball of nerves and mixed feelings swam in your stomach as you crawled on the floor back to your pile of stuff and shoved it back in your bag. You move to the spare couch across from your escort and make yourself comfortable, Dogmeat jumping into the seat to snuggle up with you. Your fingers dragged through her fur as you planned to return to the same place you found the "straw-berries" remembering the other seemingly edible plants that filled the glass house.

[weird-dere-writes]

Implied Latina reader <3

Imagining if Boothill began to have a rival of sorts 😏

Our Space Ranger is simply minding his business as he travels the galaxy trying to take down the IPC. He’s always on the hunt of course. He begins to notice though how more and more, a specific someone ends up going after the same bounties he does. It is purely by coincidence in actuality, but he begins to wonder if this is purposeful. If he’s being tracked or something.

It is of no threat to him, as he knows his way around gunshots and gallant conflict. But it does make him grind his teeth at times. Especially if the bounty is nabbed just before he gets the chance.

And who is it that torments our celestial cowboy so? He hasn’t yet learned her name or even an alias. But in what some would call a funny and he a bothersome turn of events, she would come to be called the Stellar Ranchera.

Sneaky little thing, she is. Always keeping things on the downlow until she’s on the heels of her bounty. Then… then is when everything becomes a show. She’s just as flashy and confident as he is, if not more in these moments. And those who catch wind of it, seem to snicker at the thought that Boothill finally begins to have a taste of what it is like to deal with him.

The first time the two come into contact, face to face, while going after the same bounty is quite interesting. When they realize who one another is, she smiles, and he pouts. They’re both running fast, jumping over obstacles, running against walls, doing flips and all as they try to out hunt the other, one phrase ringing in both of their minds.

‘The bounty is mine.’

‘The bounty is mine.’

As the chase goes on though, they start to focus more and more and each other rather than their target. The goal becomes to confront, outwit, and outperform one another.

The bounty is long forgotten as the two use a space to duke it out. Boothill is slinging his guns. The Ranchera, though she has a gun, prefers other tools. Her main weapon of choice is a whip. The other weapons she used were crossed in holsters on the back of her hips. Two machetes.

For a human, Boothill had to admit she was pretty adept at dodging bullets. Had his thoughts not been clouded with the want to defeat her, he would have said she did it beautifully.

The more the two went for each other, the more this battle seemed to be like a dance. Attacking and dodging strikes and blows in perfect sync. Twisting and turning and jumping and narrowly yet masterfully just missing one another. It’s quite the sight to behold. Though they seem to think identically, it almost seems she’s flawlessly antithetical him with every move. It didn’t help she seemed to be enjoying it more than anything; yelling these things he couldn’t understand. Something like… Bail? And… ‘hey so’. Or somethin’.

Amidst the fight, she manages to steal both his pistols using that handy whip.

“Not bad, for a southern boy.”

Boothill stops his pursuit momentarily and stares as she flips his gun around her hand like a true sharpshooter.

“And what am I t’ take that ta mean, Miss?”

She shrugs, “Oh it’s nothing against you, vaquero. ‘Sides, I’m kinda southern too. In another way.”

“Back-a-what?? Anyway, why’re you so intent on nabbin my bounties, nice lady?”

“I think I should be asking you that, actually. Not that you’d answer, pretty boy. Clearly these marks have my name on them.”

“Well,” he chuckles humorlessly, the pet name sliding right past his attention, “I’ll be forked. Didn’t know you could just claim whatever prize you wanted. It was my understandin’, that it ain’t yers ‘til ya catch it.”

“Maybe brush up on your knowledge then, eh?”

There’s only an annoyed chuckle as a response before he lunges at her. She again dodges as he grabs at her; gaining enough distacne for him to start using that built in gun in his arm. She only laughs as the onslaught continues. She fires a few rounds herself, from his guns she stole.

As fun as this was, she did have someone to catch that was still getting away. In an act that surprised him, she tossed his guns back to him. Landing somewhere with a smirk on her face. When he shakes off his stupor, that smirk of his appears on his face.

“Awwww, did you feel bad fer lil’ ol’ me?”

“Oh pobrecito, no, of course not,” she coos, clearly mocking him before a smirk returns to her face. His own smirk turned into an annoyed frown again.

“I just have things to do, is all. Until next time, I suppose.”

And with that, she runs off before he can stop her. He stands there for a few moments looking after her; thoughts that are confused, annoyed curious, and more filling his head.

He sighs as he holds one of his guns up to inspect it, “Darn target muncher…”

Where’d she have to be anyways?

It took a few moments for his own words to click in his head.

“Shoot! The bounty!!”

[moonlit-witches]

☾ Requiem — Chifuyu Matsuno

☾ Just to Die — Chifuyu Matsuno

❝you learn it ain’t fair by design/so you do what you can/when you’re born into life just to die❞

pairing: chifuyu matsuno x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you meet your new neighbor chifuyu matsuno for the first time

warnings: mentions of death (parental), language, violence, suggestive themes (nothing explicit), questionable morality, reader is lowkey a brat but ya know aren’t all preteens??, one (1) use of y/n, depressive themes (i be depressed so most of what i write is gonna b a lil depressing lol)

word count: 2.8k+

a/n: y'all i haven’t written fanfiction in years so please be mindful lmfao, this takes place right around/before chifuyu meets baji, so he’s his lil asshole self who thinks he rules the world, i have multiple parts to this planned so beware, let me know if you enjoyed! thanks homies!

now playing: [just to die — keshi]

part i

⋯⛩︎⋯

growing up with a single father definitely had its ups and downs. while you were on your own when it came to figuring out catty fights between jealous tweens who thought that words and hair pulling would affect your social standings, or why exactly there was a bright red stain inside of your underwear for a week straight when you were around eleven, your father stepped up in other aspects of your life. teaching you how to persevere against those that talked down on you with a sharp punch to the nose while avoiding retaliating fists, to making you feel as though you were princess of the universe when he’d walk you downtown late at night. he’d let you swing manically off one of his arms, while his other smoked a cigarette. you remembered glancing up and seeing a wide smile illuminating his face, as you giggled trying to kick at the walking pedestrians, causing him to have to flex and move his arm to avoid the collision.

you remember feeling like nothing and no one could touch you as long as your dad was next to you.

that was until you lost him too — moving into a bustling new city, with an unfamiliar aunt who claimed to be a relative of your long-gone mother and scolded you for the ways in which your dad taught you. one minute you were a happy child with confidence that shined through all aspects of your life including caring about schoolwork, helping your dad around the house, and being kind to those around you. the next, you were transported to the police station instead of walking back home alongside your father as he insisted on picking you up from school every day after work. you remember the flickering overhead lights as they said something along the lines of “you’re dad is in heaven now” to keep the conversation kid-friendly. you remember looking up the real story on the library computer late one night. some bitch stabbed your father and took his money.

your aunt suddenly had her hands full — although after losing both parents, was a wild child not what she was expecting to come out of this situation? especially a family member you had never heard of before your father’s untimely death. from violence, to sneaking out, or stealing anything your pockets could hold; you’d begun a search for any sort of feeling other than despair. cheap thrills seemed to be the best ticket.

you had punched your seatmate the first day of school for asking if you needed help purchasing pencils when she’d seen you chewing on a perfectly working pen. you were banned from the four closest convenience stores to your home, whom your aunt seemed to personally know the managers of as they’d ratted out your little heists to her. you’d even sneak out of your ground floor window to share half of your dinner with the city's stray cats as you couldn’t stomach much of an appetite once your solid footing on the universe had whisked out from under your feet. your middle school years seemed to be shaping into the bane of your existence. 

however, you learned just as quickly that simply because all of the lights had been shut off, it doesn’t stop soft, stubborn flames from flickering in long stale corners.

the apartment complex that you now resided in sat on a poorly lit corner, standing five floors high, and rang quietly with the sounds of mother’s scolding their ruly children while the dark alleys surrounding it smelled of tobacco and skunk, flitting behind the bodies of those that stopped to smoke. most days, following the lengthy and boring school days, you would stay out as late as you could, lying to your aunt that you’d been at cram school instead of running rampant along the streets of tokyo.

even after your father’s death, you’d feel him by your side, especially when you’d walk the streets after sunset with an unlit cigarette sitting between your tense teeth. the bustling streets weren’t as safe as they had been when he’d physically been here, but his somatic skills of protection that he’d ground into you as a child as a way to bound with the baby girl he’d had no intent of raising by himself before your mother had died six months after your birth in a fiery car accident, acted as a shield for your own wondering steps.

this night was no different. although, you’d receive stares from those passing as they searched for an adult figure in your vicinity to explain your late night strolling on this side of town, you ignored them, staring upwards at the crescent moon that followed you around. your lips played with the stick between your teeth, rolling it back and forth, slightly praying for a way out of the situation that is your life now. sometimes, you’d find a sick fuck who’d catcall you from a darkened alleyway, or find a stray cat being targeted by a group of unruly teenagers, which caused you to snap out of your almost unconscious state to beat them back into place.

those evenings, it was harder to convince your aunt that you’d been out at cram school, but eventually she’d tsk her tongue at you and retire back to her bedroom leaving you in the stillness of the living room as the street lights highlighted your bruised knuckles and sometimes brow bone. you’d often wonder in these moments how your dad would have reacted, daydreaming of his bright smiles and praise at his child standing their ground, asking all the right questions to rile you back up, your own smile mirroring his.

“oi!”

an unwelcoming yell alerted you to a group of half a dozen third-years milling about the alleyway beside you. their eyes were already on yours as you halted, tilting your head to allow the nuisance into your eyesight. your eyelids were heavy, your cheek twitching at the sudden interruption. you sighed slightly, removing the unlit cigarette from your teeth, moving it and your hands into your zip-up’s pockets.

“and what the hell is a young thing like you doing out this late?” the seeming leader of the group sneered, stuffing his own lit cigarette out on the ground under his foot. you stayed silent, uninterestedly sizing the growing boys up. they seemed to be dressed the same, in button up long sleeve shirts, with something embroidered on their left chests, although the kanji was too far away for you to read. they must report to someone with outfits like that, you think, righting your head finally and taking a few steps away from the well lit street into the alley.

after a pregnant pause, another spoke up harshly behind the first to speak, asking “you looking for some fun, little girl?” 

your hands removed themselves from your pockets, twitching against the school skirt you hadn’t changed out of since the final bells, slightly aggravated by the placename they’d given you. you were your dad’s “little girl” and now that he was gone, so too was that person. a slight rage beginning to boil under your skin as someone else addressed you as such.

“what’s it to you?” you spit back, rolling your shoulders to try and appear somewhat bigger.

this created a wave of reaction amongst the delinquents; laughter echoing against the damp, cracking brick walls surrounding them. you smirked slightly, somewhat glad that society had made everyone in it believe a small, young girl like you posed no threat to these older schoolboys, much less those that willingly participated in acts of violence such as brawls and beatings. 

once the fit of hysterics had quieted, the one that seemed to lead those behind him opened his mouth, seemingly, to reply to your rhetorical question. you decided now was as good a time as any. your feet carried you quickly forward, watching his face shift from that of amusement, to one of confusion, before your right foot came up to meet the side of his face. you pivoted on your toes, leg still in the air from coming down off his face, and used the momentum to slam the follower next to him square in the temple. taking a step, you brought your burning knuckles upwards, locking a solid hit on a third’s jaw, relishing in the sound of teeth clashing, before facing the one formerly standing next to his leader. you pulled your arm back, and felt your knuckles reverberate against his face as you smashed his nose in.

you turned on your heels this time, figuring you could take the remaining two third-years on at once, as usually those in the back weren’t as renowned in their skill as those between the object of victimization (you, in their hopeful case) and their leader, who laid moaning as blood ran from his ear that you’d smashed against his skull seconds earlier. your calculations weren’t usually wrong, but they seemed to be a bit off, as you watched the other two boys yell as they rushed you from either side.

you let out a small cry yourself, turning slightly to the bigger one, your fist meeting his chest, as he stormed into your personal space. the one behind you yanked the hood of your sweatshirt, choking you a bit as they pulled you downwards, back hitting the concrete with a jolt that had the remaining air leaving your lungs at an alarming pace. the position made you panic, grunting a bit as you held your fists forward, towards the remaining boy as he lunged on top of you. you sucked in a quick breath before his weight landed on you, causing an involuntary oof to escape your mouth. you had managed to get a knee between his chest and yours, as you let out another yell, and pushed with all your weight, forcing yourself back into the ground as the delinquent stuttered in his movements to catch your flailing hands. 

“get off,” you huffed angrily, as a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that maybe you weren’t as invincible as you’d perceived yourself to be. you shook the thought from your head, rearing a fist back to smash the skull of the one on top of you, when a strong vice gripped your wrist, smashing it back into the ground next to your head. you looked up with wide eyes and saw the one you’d punched in the chest catching his breath in pants, holding you down. you became frantic as his other hand wound its way around your other wrist, pulling it away from your chest and above your head as well. a harsh blow to your lower jaw brought you back to the present, as you heard your ears ring, and felt a sting from your upper lip being split by your tooth.

Shit, you thought, mind temporarily blanking, as your vision began to blur with frustration knowing that if you didn’t get out of this quickly, this night would be one of hurt and hell.

“if you wanted to have this much fun,” the one on top of you grunted, a smirk erupting along his ugly cheeks, “you could’ve just asked nicely.”

 you begin puffing, straining your taut muscles aiming to bring your other leg up along the other to force his stank breath out of your face, mind beginning to race at his implications. the one pinning your wrists above your head, struggling to move your wrists towards one another, and you spared a glance upwards, seeing a sadistic glint within his dark eyes as his own mouth formed a toothy grin.

suddenly, his face moved rapidly to his left, disappearing from your view followed by a sickening thunk as it echoed off the concrete next to you. you let a small gasp escape your already open mouth, averting your eyes back to the front of you, watching the third-year on top of you as his mouth transformed from a twisted smirk to a perfect ‘o’ before a fist smashed into his mouth, causing him to collapse face-first against your side.

the added weight made you anxious as you moved your body back, leaning on your elbows as you scrambled. before you’d even turned to see who had attacked the two, another hand was wrapping around your arm, this time yanking you up onto your feet, and pulling you towards the other side of the alley. your breath came back sporadically, sparing a glance behind you at the beaten group of teens who were beginning to rekindle their surroundings, before the grip on your arm yanked you to the right, causing you to trip over your own feet, struggling to keep up with the heightened pace.

after about a minute of combing through side streets, the grip loosened around your forearm, causing you to slow, leaning forward to catch your breath. you lifted your head slightly to see who it was running alongside you, and your eyebrows contorted at the sight of a boy your own age, maybe a year above you, with dyed blonde hair in a faux hawk, curling into itself. before you’d collected yourself to make an attempt at conversation, he was lowering his chest, towering into your face, face scrunched in frustration. “what the hell is wrong with you? don’t you know that they could’ve killed you — or worse?”

his eyebrows were angled inwards, half covering his green eyes, anger raiding from him and onto you, causing you to bristle, standing up straight to counteract his intimidating stance.

“i didn’t need your help,” you scoffed, wiping the side of your mouth, as he watched the blood smear from the corner of your lips and half disappear into the black sweatshirt sleeve.

for a minute he stared at you, disbelief surrounding the situation transforming into an unbelieved laugh. “then what the hell did i just fight those pricks for, huh?” he stared at you with wide eyes, finally turning away from you while shaking his head.

you frowned, crossing your arms. “it was just a small misjudgment on my part,” you muttered without looking at him. “nothing i couldn’t have handled.”

the last part came out breathy and if he hadn't been standing so close to you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

he gave you an inconceivable side-eye before stuffing his hands into his pockets, beginning to walk off — the same direction you needed to go to return home. you furrowed your own eyebrows in irritation realizing you couldn’t split off from the blonde just yet, and began to trail behind him. he sighed deeply before speaking, “you just moved downstairs, didn’t you?”

you gape in disbelief. how did he know that you’d just moved here?

he shot you a look over his shoulder, before facing forward and shrugging. “you and your mom sure know how to yap about you being out too late, you know?”

your mind reeled for a minute, coming to the conclusion that this boy must live in the same apartment complex you’d recently found yourself home in. and on top of that, he had to have heard the recurring arguments you’d gotten into with your aunt about your punctuality or violent tendencies. after shaking off the questioning thoughts from your mind, you grumbled, “she’s not my mom,” while fumbling for your crumbled cigarette in your pocket.

he turned to look at you, seeing the cigarette between your lips and it was his turn to gape as he asked, “whoa, what the hell are you smoking cigarettes for?”

his hand reached out, seemingly to remove it from your lips and you shifted sideways out of his grasp, humming, “i don’t. just reminds me of someone.”

his fingers returns to his side, nodding as if he understood, before saying, “i’m matsuno chifuyu.”

you huffed, wondering when the hell you’d even asked, before he stopped suddenly, causing your chest to collide with his back, creating a huff to escape you. he slyly looked over at you. “and this is where you tell me your name.”

you gave him a glare back, stepping around his figure to continue home. “(l/n y/n).”

he grinned slightly in satisfaction, matching his pace to yours as you approached the apartment building the two of you reside in. he pulled the glass door open after punching in his access code, awaiting your entry before following himself. you turned to the hallway entry on the right before moving your head to look at him as he moved towards the stairwell.

“thanks,” you said quietly, moving the cigarette to the side of your mouth.

he turned to look at you, giving you a cat-like grin, before you finished your sentence and entered the hallway before you. “by the way, your hair looks stupid.” you caught sight of the grin disappearing as his lips turned into a scowl, as you turned away to hide your own grin.

and thus began your unlikely and somewhat unwanted friendship with the delinquent upstairs.

⋯⛩︎⋯

[kayesfanfics]

Being Partners in Crime With Striker

A/N: Just watched all of Helluva Boss after some convincing, and I am coming out as a HB fan but mostly a Striker Simp. Also, takes place during the Harvest Moon episode

Warnings: Cursing obviously, some sexual innuendos and content but not straight up smut

You were born in Wrath as well, growing up poor was hard and your family turned to crime to make a living. You were a bounty hunter and mercenary, working hard to bring in money for your family and put food on the table for them. Your parents were getting old and tired, you and your siblings ran the family farm and did illegal work for extra cash as well

You met Striker when you were both hired by different people to go for the same target, not even realizing the other was there until your bullets collided when you both went to shoot your target

“Are ya crazy?! I was just about to kill em!” You’d both shout angrily, quickly realizing the situation. You would roll your eyes as Striker tried to tell you he could handle catching the target, and you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about it. You both took off running after the target, trying to grab them or kill them before the other could. You got the upper hand, tackling the target and killing them quickly with a neck break. Striker skidded to a halt, a sly smile on his face as he grinned, “Well, a wins a win, ain’t it? Nice catch, dollface. How about I treat ya to a drink?”

After getting drinks together and chatting for awhile, he became less and less of an asshole, turning his charm on and making you swoon (on the inside at least, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction). After drinks, you went your separate ways, but started seeing each other more often because of your lines of work

You’d start dating eventually after finally giving in and going to his motel room with him to bang his brains out. He’s def a top though, so you’d leave the morning after with some scratches on your back and HUGE hickeys on your neck that were impossible to hide without stealing his bandana and tying it around your neck. He’d def like to mark you up to claim you, warning other imps not to even think about even breathing near you wrong

Lots of horse rides on Bombproof, you’d sit behind Striker and he’d make his horse ride a little rougher just to make you hold on tighter to him to stay on. You’d feed Bombproof while Striker got a fire going to take a rest for the night in the middle of the desert. He’d cook up some random Hell Birds he shot out of the sky for the two of you, plucking the feathers and handing you a bird on a stick. Not exactly the most romantic dinner, but you were also used to this kind of food so it brought some homely comfort

Speaking of homely comfort, you’d take him home to your family farm to meet everyone after a few months of dating and riding around the Rings of Hell with him. Your younger siblings were impressed with his gun slinging skills and he’d flex his muscles and let them hang off his arms to show off his strength. He’d be kind to your folks, kissing your moms hand and shaking your dads, complimenting their pile of bricks and talking up their daughter to them, which of course charmed them both. He even went as far to cook dinner for the whole family with you, giving a great first impression and gaining their approval to date you

When it came to doing bounties and assassinations together, the two of your worked incredibly well together, with your brains and his brawn. Plus doing it together made life far less lonely, being able to sleep together after long days of undercover work or chasing targets through Hell. Neither of you worried too much about the others safety, seeing how the both of you could handle yourselves with ease

When the two of you took an undercover job on Rough n’ Tumbleweed Ranch to get closer to a target and investigate the case. You did hard farm work all day between snooping around the house, acting as a charming couple looking for honest work. The work was nice to do though, reminded you of being a kid on your farm before you went into the bounty business, and Striker looked good doing his work so there was no complaining from you-

When your targets associates finally arrived, you slapped a convincing smile on your face and charmed them as best you could with your boyfriend. You quickly tried to make friends with Millie, easily gaining her trust by agreeing with her about things and saying shit she would like. Like when her paw suggested the boys enter the Pain Games, you talked up Striker which made her talk up Moxxie, and talking up your S/O always helped brighten the mood. You’d playfully say Striker was better, and the two of you made a friendly bet of who would win. You’d later laugh about it with Striker, giggling that there was absolutely no competition and he’d compliment your bullshitting skills with a grin

You and Millie cheered your boys on at the games, and you’d flash her a smile when Striker easily beat Moxxie with not much effort at all. You’d also take the opportunity to genuinely cheer for your boyfriend, enjoying watching him wrangle other contestants and wrestle with Blitzø in the mud like the stupid boys they were. Millie started disliking you when you cheered for Striker as he sang on stage about how he beat her husband and how much better he was than him, and you slipped up and said “What? He is.” instead of bullshitting some sympathy to Moxxie

After the Pain Games were over, you started getting back on track for your mission: killing Prince Stolas for his wife. You stayed outside with the family to distract them while Striker followed Moxxie inside, but when Millie heard something break inside, she went back inside and you now followed her up to you and Strikers room, just in time to see that bitch stab your boyfriend in the back multiple times. You quickly grabbed her and tossed her against the wall, nearly knocking her out but keeping her down

“Thanks, pumpkin’.” Striker grinned, kissing you before grabbing both imps. You let him go off, before turning to make sure the blessed rifle the Princess gave you was okay. You grabbed it and polished that little imps smudgy fingerprints off of it, smiling when Striker came back and wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Ya know that gun’ll work the same with or without smudges, right darlin?”

“Yes, but it looks better without them.” You smiled, handing the gun to him to make the hit as you heard the Prince’s voice on the mic. But your plan was eventually foiled by Blitzø and Moxxie, and the both of you ran off to safety, grabbing what belongings you could before heading out to find a shitty motel to crash for the night

[quinloki]

I should be working, so of course I’m thinking about kisses from blorbos instead.

First kisses, mostly. In canon setting, or close enough to it.

This is all just off the cuff, so I’m putting it under a cut. I might do something more organized at a later date.

Shanks, Marco, Kid, Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo

Shanks - he’s so smooth you almost don’t realize what’s happening. There’s a warm hand on your cheek, brown eyes looking into yours. You don’t know when he got so close, but it’s not alarming, and you’re not uncomfortable. He was all jokes and laughs not even a few seconds ago, but now you aren’t even sure you’re still in the bar.

He makes a sound, a word maybe, something almost like a “yeah?” But you don’t really hear the word so much as the intent. Maybe you bite your lip, maybe you lean forward a little or give him a nod, but any motion of affirmation moves him forward. Fingers at the nape of your neck as he pulls you into a kiss that’s tastes sweeter than the rum he’s been drinking. You’re dizzy at the end of it, but maybe it’s a contact buzz, or maybe he really did just steal the air from your lungs and leave nothing but pleasure behind.

Marco - You’ve wanted to kiss those lips for days, if not longer. He’s not leading you on, he’s teasing you, delighting in ruffling your feathers. He likes to see you squirm, and you know those eyes have been watching your gaze shift to his lips every single time.

If you’re not brave enough to make demands, he’ll eventually lure you onto his lap - somewhere quiet and private, if he can test his own patience long enough to get away from the crew. He’ll pull you close slowly, giving you one last chance to decline. The first kiss will be brief, eyes watching you intently, and the slightest lean forward, the smallest gasp, and the following kiss will be heavy. A firm grip will hold you close a devour every moan he demands from you.

Eustass Kid - Subtle is for people afraid to hear the word no, and Kid ain’t afraid of anything. Just as likely to be bantering as he is to be arguing just before hand, the kiss will catch you off guard.

Somehow though, he’ll know that you wanted it. Whether you admit it with words or not, this cheeky bastard never misses the mark. Strong hands will have you pressed against the wall, squirming and squeaking and moaning as hot hungry lips steal air and sense from you.

By the times those painted lips are trailing down to your neck you’re probably already considering the logistics of fucking right where you are. Kid won’t force you to risk an audience, but he’s not wasting a drop of energy worrying about it on his own.

Sir Crocodile - you’re going to be the one to initiate the kiss with him. Probably sat up in his lap, or after you’ve already stripped yourself bare, and are laying underneath him. It’s the final affirmation for him, the last chance you have to deny him. He’s not kissing to test the waters or as a matter of course, he’s been considering you in the long term long before this moment. ( I feel like he’s a no kissing during casual sex kind of person.)

Once your lips are against his, there’s little control you’ll have after. He starts softly, gently, but firmly. More and more they become deeper and hungrier, dragging you under the heavy and inescapable desires of someone who doesn’t let go of what he’s claimed.

And certainly not when it’s wandered into his arms willingly.

Doflamingo - his first kiss is rough, greedy, if there’s acceptance on your part it’s more likely you were tricked into it. His hand will hold your face in place and his tongue will be deep in your mouth before you’ve even realized that you were being kissed.

Whether your sounds are protests or pleasures he’s not going to care. He wanted to kiss you, you were going to accept it. If he wants to use you further, he will. If you’re lucky he’ll have some kind of emotion toward you that isn’t just lust, and he may even decide to show you he can be considerate.

But you won’t find it in that first kiss.

[happilyringingbell]

Painting Those Who are Broken

Thank you to Witchren for asking this! I loved writing it! Also sorry it took me so long, I’ve been busy with writing other things! I have some projects I’m working on!

The scratching of the pencil swiping against the canvas is the most noise Curly has heard in recent days. He has mindlessly blocked out the footsteps, the beeping of the heart monitor, the coughing of patients that move past his room. To him, it was mostly silence.

The kind face of Anya curved around the canvas. Her gentle smile drew Curly’s attention. If he could smile, he would.

“Hey Curls, I’m almost done. Just hang on for another quick second, yeah?” Back around the canvas she went. Curly could only sigh. At least it was easier to breath-

“Hey Anya! I’m back with the colored pencils! How’s the art of Curly- woah! That’s beautiful! Curly! I ain’t ever seen you look better!” Daisuke laughed, eyes bright as he came through the door. The heavy metal shut behind him.

“Thank you, Daisuke! I told you I used to draw back in highschool.” Anya’s fluttery voice, Daisuke’s lovely expression, and the light air between the three brought life to Curly’s body. Something major he’d been missing ever since this happened to him. Ever since Jimmy betrayed him. That jerk.

“Yeah! I knew you did but wow! Curly you have got to see this!” Daisuke’s grin only seemed to grow. And Curly was getting more impatient with the amount of time that seemed to stretch on forever. He really wished he had his legs back so he could walk across the room and look at the drawing.

“Oh Daisuke! Just give me a second! I’m sorry Curly, one moment please.” Anya’s gentle smile switched something in Curly, and he relaxed into the bed, content to watch their movements and faces for the time being.

After what felt like a year, Anya finally pulled away. And Curly couldn’t help staring at her expression. It looked off. Like she was worried, but also confident. Weird.

“Okay! I’m done, ready to see it?” And the canvas was flipped. Curly was blown away.

A realistic picture of a red and white man stared back at Curly. Ruined and bandaged, he still looked beautiful.

It stirred something deep within Curly’s chest. And he couldn’t help the tears and gagging that tore from his throat. And in an instant, two sets of warm arms wrapped around his ruined body. Cradling them tightly as the two cooed and smiled at the broken man.

“Shh, Curly, it's alright. Do you not like the drawing? I can rid of it if you like-“

Curly batted Anya’s mouth with a stump. She paused, amused expression on her face. Her hands kept still on Curly’s body.

“Okay. I’ll leave it. Do you want me to hang it up? I’m sure the doctors would allow that.” Curly limply nodded. And Daisuke beamed, smushing his face against his friend’s shoulder. Curly continued to cry.

He truly had the best friends. Jimmy was a rat. But these two- these two were like angels.

I hope you enjoyed!

Do not steal my work or claim it as your own.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (46)

part 46 of ?? | 790 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Nothing can ruin Steve’s mood this week.  

46.

Nothing can ruin Steve’s mood this week. 

So they haven’t exactly defined their relationship yet, so what? It’s so easy to fall asleep in the safety of Eddie’s arms that Steve feels more rested than he has in years. He’s started wearing chapstick again to combat what all of their making out is doing to his lips, prompting Eddie to kiss him even more—to steal some, he always claims with a devil-may-care smirk. It’s becoming an inside joke. 

They have inside jokes. Steve feels giddy from it, from everything. He keeps expecting Eddie to tell him to slow down, that he’s too eager or needy, too much. But if anything Eddie acts like he’s waiting for Steve to tell him the same thing, which is. . . . It goes against every one of Steve’s knee-jerk expectations, but he’s trying to work on that, to accept that Eddie thinks how he thinks and not how Steve expects him to think.

Case in point: Eddie actually likes him, actually wants him, and they're about to run out of new things they can do without taking off more than their shirts. When other people are around they play it cool, not touching much at all, but Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes follow him. He does the same thing, and he’s glad that Robin hasn’t called him on it yet because on top of not wanting to lie to her, he’s bad at it. Omission is hard enough, and he’s kind of bursting to tell someone about what feels like the first great thing to happen to him in years.

-

Wayne stops him a few days in, right after Eddie has left to get groceries. “You settling in alright, Steve?”

A little surprised that Wayne is asking now, after he’s been living here for a while, Steve nods, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s going great. Thanks again for letting me live here, sir—I mean, Wayne.”

That gets him the usual amused snort that Wayne does whenever he defaults too formal, like it’s an inside joke against Richard and Linda Harrington that only Wayne gets to enjoy. Steve doesn’t know too much about that other than Wayne and his dad went to Hawkins High around the same time . . . which could mean a lot of things. 

He’s glad it’s nothing terrible enough for Wayne to not give him a chance in spite of who his parents are, though. 

Wayne nods, slow and thoughtful as always. “Good. That’s good. And Eddie’s taken care of the apologizin’ that needed doing?”

Steve goes still, unsure. Had Eddie actually . . . actually told someone? About the blackmail? That's the worst part, the real reason he's avoided pouring his heart out to Robin so far. “Uh. . . .”

“There ain’t much that boy can put past me for long,” Wayne says, interpreting his reaction either correctly or close to it. He leans back against the wall, arms crossed loose across his chest, and it’s such an Eddie move that it almost gives Steve vertigo. (It’s always a bit wild to him when people act like family, like in the movies. Totally outside of his personal experience.)

“I guess not,” Steve says. He doesn’t want to feel on edge around Wayne, mostly doesn’t anymore—but this feels so surreal, he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know where to put his feet so as to not step on the invisible vines running through the conversation that he knows instinctively must be there.

Don’t be stupid, he tells himself. It’s just Wayne. 

“We’re good now,” Steve tells him. “He’s apologized plenty. More than he needs to, even. It’s like, water under the bridge now, really.”

Wayne is still watching him thoughtfully. After a moment he inclines his head, another gesture that reminds Steve of his nephew. “You know, I heard a fair bit about you before this spring. God knows you probably had to unlearn a lot of shit your daddy pressed into you before getting to the point where you saved Eddie’s life. Do you still feel like you’re making up for any of that?”

Face heating up, Steve feels caught out. He nods. 

“Then, might I suggest,” Wayne says calmly, “you let him apologize all he feels he needs to, just the same?”

The words send Steve reeling into a different kind of vertigo. He’s still trying to process the sudden reorientation going on in his head as Wayne pushes off the wall, claps him on the shoulder. Says something about heading out to work and don’t let Eddie burn the meatloaf this time. 

“Steve?” Wayne adds before he goes. Steve manages to look up in time to catch a rare, understated smile on his weathered face. “You boys are good for each other. I’m glad you’re getting along, son.”

[evolutionsvoid]

Decades of paleontology, and yet no one has stopped to think of the obvious question. So many dig sites, so many supposed "finds," but they ignore what is right in front of them. They pull them from the ground, clean them, arrange them and then show them off to adoring crowds with grand applause, and still no one looks at it all and asks "why?" Well, we know why. Just try to ask one of them. Just try to stand up during a presentation and voice this legitimate question, see what happens. Denial, ridicule, outrageous claims and excuses! They look away from you like they can't stomach your presence, or cannot handle what they know to be true. They have you dragged out of symposiums, forcing the label of "lunatic" and "absolute nut bag" onto you for merely asking for an answer. They don't ask the question because they know the answer and it scares them. An answer that would bring everything we knew about prehistory crumbling down, invalidating decades of supposed "research" and "legitimate grants." But there are those not scared to face the truth, to finally pull back the veil and show the world what should be known. Those who stand before the fools and cowards to finally ask everyone who can hear: "Why do we only find dinosaur bones?" Where is the skin, the muscle, the organs? Millions of years and millions of dinosaurs and yet we cannot find a single heart or piece of hide? Just perfectly preserved bones?! Each time?! Every time?! Nothing but bones?! Of course, they call it a coincidence, and rail off a whole list of excuses. Time, decay and what not, while refusing to note their perfectly preserved state! All these bones, gathered in one perfect place? You dig up a T-Rex and all its bones are just there? That easily? All "bundled" together, would you say? All them clean and intact, as if almost "licked clean," hm? Now what process could do that? What could trap a whole dinosaur in one place then remove all the flesh, skin and organs from its body, while keeping the skeleton so perfectly intact? IT'S SPIDERS! SPIDERS I TELL YOU! GIANT PREHISTORIC SPIDERS STEALING AWAY DINOS AND SUCKING THEM DRY! DRY! THOSE BONES ARE WHAT REMAINS! THEY'RE THEIR MEALS! THE DINOSAURS WERE WIPED OUT FROM INSECTILE MIMICS AND THEY DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW- GET OFF OF ME! THEY DON'T WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW! HEY PUT THAT DOWN! THAT'S MY LIFE'S WORK! UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT! THE BONES ARE A WARNING! A WARNING I TELL YOU! THERE WAS NO ASTEROID, NO EXTINCTION! LET GO OF ME! THEY NEVER DIED OFF! I SAID LET GO OF ME! THE SPIDERS ARE STILL ALIVE, THEY'RE STILL HERE! THEY WALKING AMONG US NOW! OUCH! IT'S A COVER UP! HEY! I BETTER GET A REFUND FOR MY TICKET FOR THIS INSOLENCE! AND I BETTER GET THE FREE TOTE BAG TOO!   ---------------------------------------------------

“Spidosaurus”

It is honestly nutty how long people have been stumbling with this whole "spinosaurus" thing. Every day they be coming in here being like "no wait it looked like this!" and "hold on, it eats food like that!" On and on it goes! How foolish! You would think they would see the truth right in front of them, but no! I guess I have to do everything around here! Just had to take one look at it and it all came together! BAM! Just like that! With my masterwork complete, I can just lean back and wait to be showered in praise by the paleo people! "Sweet Sarcosuchus! They've cracked the code!" They shall say! "What a bunch of Stego Butt Brains we've been! The truth is so clear!" They shall lament! All while I sit back and enjoy my awards and billion dollar check. Golly, what a day!  

Oh wait, ain't a spidersman thingy come out recently?! So spider-sonas are a thing?! Oooo I pick this one! I pick this one! Yeah, totally meant for that to happen!

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 1 “Mint Soda and Cafe au Lait Float”♦️♣️ (3/3)

Once we are done with work, let’s head out to our favorite pub, “Crazy 8”~

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1530021332561170432?s=20&t=lLB3b2CH1n76STg9Xa0uNA

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Crazy 8 was a long-established pub located right next to the Old Maid branch of Pinochle Automobiles. Rumors had it that they had been in business for nearly 30 years.

The dimly lit interior was fully furnished with wood. The counter was gold-plated, reflecting the light. It gave off the atmosphere of an authentic Irish pub. Behind the counter, a neon lamp in the shape of the pub’s name glimmered.

“Yahoo, Master. I’ll have my usual ♪”

Chris rested his elbow on the counter, leaning forward as he called out to the manager of the pub on the opposite side. His name was Douglas.

“It’s you guys again.”

Douglas had a muscular build and cleanly shaved head, as well as an intimidating air about him.

“Even if you said that, Master, I’m sure that you’re happy to see us, your dear regulars, turning up often around here~ By the way, Finn, what are you having?”

“Beer.”

“You’re underage! Order something non-alcoholic!”

“Just kidding. I’ll have my usual soda.”

The bartender didn’t give a reply, but he immediately turned and walked away to start preparing our orders. Chris, who had picked a high stool to sit in, crossed his slender legs as he waited. I sat down next to him.

“Finn, are you hurt anywhere?”

“Oh. My fist hurt a bit from when I packed those punches, but it was no big deal. Shouldn’t I be asking about how you’re doing instead?”

“Not at all ♪ I don’t even need to eat my Fudgees.”

After a moment, two coasters were being slide out onto the counter. And then, a glass filled up to the brim was put on each of them.

“You guys should not come here in the first place if you’re not going to drink alcohol.”

That said, Douglas placed Chris’ favorite drink, the cafe au lait float, in front of the latter, before turning his back on Chris instantly and without courtesy.

“Master, even if you’re spitting such mean words, you’re always giving us freebies. For instance, the float is bigger than usual today. Isn’t it amazing that he never made a big deal out of these kind gestures~”

Chris put his thin lips against the straw and began sipping. “Hn~ you see, it is similar to Vietnamese coffee, in the sense that it has condensed milk poured in. Definitely rich in calories~”

“Ew, it’s like you’re piling something sweet on top of something even sweeter.”

I stuck my tongue out in digust, frowning. As I was about to sip on my own drink, it suddenly came to my attention. In the soda, there were a number of tiny leaves floating around. Furthermore, a slice of lime was stuck at the rim of the glass.

“What is this? Isn’t it different from what I asked for?”

“Mint, huh. Then it must be virgin mojito. This is another special service from the Master, so make sure to drink it gratefully.”

“Vir… what was that? But I, hate veggies. Including greeneries, leaves, and the like.”

“Mint is not a veggie, though.”

“I see. Fine, I’ll try to drink it, why not, I’ll try.”

I put the straw in my mouth while stealing a glance at Master. His back remained turned on us as he was wiping on a glass. It followed that he turned on the TV installed near the ceiling using a remote control.

“Mnn! Who could’ve guessed that this drink tastes absurdly good?! Thanks a bunch, Master!”

With his gaze fixed on the TV, Master resumed wiping on the glass using a towel. Meanwhile, I downed my whole glass of mint soda in one gulp, slurping it noisily up to its final drops.

“Seconds, please!”

“Keep your pace slow.”

“Bossy, ain’t ya? I can drink however much I want.”

“Gah, what an insolent brat. Well, whatever. Speaking of, you did a great job today. Even though you claimed that you were simply doing it as a hobby, I have to admit that you’ve got some skills in boxing.”

“Our opponents were just lacking. I could say the same about you, I mean, you were the one displaying that flashy combination of Muay Thai and god-knows what other martial art techniques.”

“I was somewhat forced to learn them after I joined Pinochle, that’s all there is to it. Afterall, I’d rather not become drenched in sweat.”

“Eh, but you should absolutely teach me sometime.”

“Did I hear that right, are you looking forward to get all sweaty with me?”

“You’re being creepy again.”

“Reporting from Gibbs Street, earlier this afternoon…”

Interrupting our conversation, the voice of a reporter blared out from the TV, dropping the name of a street which sounded familiar. It also seemed to grab Chris’ attention, as he immediately spun on his high stool to get a better view of the TV.

“An incident just occured in which a group of mafia were attacked by unknown assailants. According to the police who arrived at the scene, someone is believed to have intervened in a drug transaction between the mafia. The items were stolen from a museum, with the market price of—”

“…”

“…”

Chris and I stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Um, Chris……. isn’t this a bad sign? But we won’t be showing up on the headlines, will we?”

“High Card” was a secret organization operating under Pincochle Corporation. The true identities of its members must never be revealed to the general public, and anyone who’s not involved in the business was forbidden from knowing the existence of X-playing cards.

Tiredly, Chris laid his wrist across his forehead, sighing.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t expect that gem to possess such a high value.”

“I-I didn’t do anything, I swear! It’s their own fault!”

“Finn, we’re completely innocent. We don’t know anything. We didn’t do anything. Isn’t that so?”

True, true. I rapidly nodded in agreement.

“I will submit my report to jii-san and tell him that we were not involved in anything. And then I’ll call it a day and go home right away. It would take time, but this whole incident would get swept under the carpet, eventually. Uh, and, just for the record, do not ever let Leo catch a wind about this.”

“…Sounds like it’s gonna be a big pain in the ass.”

“I hope that would solve the problem. For now, fingers crossed…”

Chris raised his glass of cafe au lait float. I copied his movement with my own refilled glass of mint soda.

“Good work today…….”

When we clinked our glass together, both of our hands were still shaking so pathetically that a clattering sound could be heard.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: I’m in no way a professional translator so if you find any mistakes, please do not hesitate to inform me right away. I love the High Card gang and I found it very unfortunate that while it is meant to be a multimedia project, I can’t seem to find the translated versions of any materials (beside the anime) anywhere (if this is against copyright, I will take it down). Hopefully this small TL would help international viewers gain better understanding of HC universe and characters. The author of these SS himself said that he hoped fans would have their “so that’s what it is!” moments when they watch the anime after reading his short stories. So with that in mind, let’s enjoy High Card together~

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

May I please request a song minific (“Love Story” with Peter or Dagger please? I’d appreciate it a lot.

aaaaaa I did Peter! and since it's just a minific I picked only my favoritest part of the song <3

DISCLAIMER: This is a (mini) songfic to the song “Love Story” by Taylor Swift! I don’t own the song, don’t claim to, and am not profiting off this piece at all.

so I sneak out to the garden to see you we keep quiet, ‘cause we’re dead if they knew so close your eyes escape this town for a little while ‘cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter and my daddy said, “stay away from Juliet” but you were everything to me I was begging you, “please don’t go”

If anyone can blame you for falling in love with a man like PETER, you think they’re all mad. They must not be able to see what you see.

Even though your house is like a prison sometimes, you make sure that you have time enough to slip away from whatever everyone else wants of you, for at least a short while every day. Those are your stolen moments, when you sit in the garden with Peter amid a few full bushes that hide the two of you from sight.

You take care now, just like always, not to make much noise. Not that he gives you a lot of choice in the matter; he wants to hear you speak, to make sounds in response to whatever he’s doing, but he knows how important it is that you don’t. He ensures that you don’t have the opportunity, stealing your words and reactions with his lips on yours.

He knows what would happen if your family found out. You’ve urged him several times in the past to stay quiet, because if anyone catches you, he’ll be in more trouble than you’ll be. None of your family, (or the rest of society, or Peter himself sometimes), can understand why you would choose someone like him. Everyone thinks he must be forcing you into something, persuading you, corrupting you.

If that’s true, then you think perhaps you want to be corrupted.

“I’m always worried when I come round,” Peter mumbles as he sits in your lap, knelt in your skirts and hands on your legs. “Wot y’r father said before? That I ain’t no good? That ‘e’d make sure I go from ‘alf a man t’ a quarter of a man if ‘e finds out I been with y’ again?”

Your hands grip his waist, more fiercely than you’ve ever held anything. “Don’t think about what he says to you. You’re my whole world, Peter. You’re not going to leave me just because he thinks you’re no good, are you? What about what I think?”

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I’ll be waiting; all there’s left to do is run you’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess it’s a love story baby, just say yes

He lays his head on your chest, looking up at you with some expression that’s a mix of longing and desire and affection and fear. You can never truly tell what he’s thinking, except what he’s told you before: he loves listening to your heartbeat. That might as well be the beginning and end of the world, as far as he’s concerned.

“Y’ know, precious… someday we’re gonna leave. We’re gonna go t’gether.” His fists bunch up your skirts. “I’ll come ‘ere someday, ‘n’ I’m jus’ gonna steal y’ from all this pretty, ‘igh-class shite. We’re gonna run away t’gether, ‘n’ there ain’t a damn thing anyone’ll be able t’ do ‘bout it.”

You rest your cheek against the top of his head. You try to imagine what a life like that is going to be like. Perhaps not easy, not like your life is now. What else could you ever want, though, aside from someone who loves you so deeply he’d spirit you away from everything you’ve ever known? Who else could love you that much?

Your hands squeeze his waist. “You should do it sooner rather than later, my love. It feels like the longer I stay, the more everyone tries to push me toward other people. Everyone keeps telling me that I’m not in love with you, not really. I’d give anything to stop hearing people saying they know my heart better than I do.”

A low chuckle makes his whole body shake. “Bunch’a bloody idiots.” You can feel his desperate touch through every layer of fabric, as if he’s reaching straight through to your skin. “I should take y’ with me right now. Y’ wouldn’t ‘afta listen t’ anyone spoutin’ stupid nonsense ever again.”

“… You should take me.” You suddenly pull away, looking him dead in the eyes. It comes out so fast you don’t have time to overthink it, so real that you don’t think you’ve ever meant to say anything else more. “Why not tonight? I’m ready to leave. I don’t care if it’s going to be hard, I don’t care what anyone else thinks…”

You let your hands drift down to his. “I just want to be with you.”

He falls silent for a moment, then pushes himself up to press a kiss to your lips. He doesn’t draw back until you both are drowning in the need for air.

In between gasps of breath, he says, “T’night, then, precious. I’ll come get y’ t’night.”

Romeo, save me ― they’re trying to tell me how to feel this love is difficult, but it’s real don’t be afraid; we’ll make it out of this mess it’s a love story baby, just say yes.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

“fine, i get your cereal-soup argument, but there’s nothing you can say to convince me that a hot dog is a damn sandwich.” (from the midnight rambling writing prompts) for Henry and Finch? (does not need to be romantic)

Thanks for the prompt! :D hope you enjoy, this was so fun to write

The lodging house was quiet, and maybe Henry would’ve been asleep by now if Finch wasn’t so insistent on stealing the entirety of the thin blanket that was meant to be shared between the two of them.

In fact, it was a specific condition he’d made Finch promise to before allowing him to sleep at the foot of his bed at all. He’d volunteered, partly because he was a good friend, mostly because Finch’s own bed had been doused in jugs of water that morning and the mattress was still sopping wet. (Henry could sympathise, he needed his sleep. He also took that as a further indication to avoid getting on Albert’s bad side at all costs)

The lack of blankets was bad enough, but then Finch made it worse somehow.

“Hey, Henry.” He was at least attempting to whisper but his voice still felt all too loud amongst the snoring.

“What?”

“You ever think about how cereal is basically soup?”

Henry wanted to cry, actually. If he could’ve pulled the blanket up to cover his eyes he would’ve.

“No.” He said, pointedly, “Because it’s not.”

“It is though right? There’s liquid.” He paused. “With y’know, bits, in it.”

Maybe while Finch was distracted talking utter bullshit Henry could steal back his share of the blanket.

“N’ how would you feel if you went to Jacobi’s n’ ordered soup and got cereal?” He asked.

(God, Finch must've had a fist of steel gripping his end of the blanket.)

“I’d faint on the spot I think,” Finch said, making less of an effort to whisper now because apparently he didn’t have any regard for anyone else’s sleep. “I ain’t had cereal in years.”

“Oh. Your biased then.”

Finch dug his foot into his side. “Stop using big words you learnt from Davey.”

“Skittery actually.”

“Oh.”

“Think he got it from Dave though.”

Henry could practically feel Finch rolling his eyes, and grinned.

“Shut up. Anyway, I’m right.” Finch continued, and Henry began to consider that maybe Albert wasn’t being unreasonable when he decided to douse Finch’s bed in water. “Soup is liquid with bits in it. So’s cereal. So cereal is soup.”

Henry thought about it for a second and wondered what his Da would’ve done if Henry had ever tried to claim that; wondered whether or not he could’ve persuaded him to put it on the deli menu.

He could’t have, it took all of three seconds to conclude, but he knew his dad would’ve looked at him like he’d grown another head. Knew he would’ve ruffled Henry’s hair and turned around muttering about young boys and their ridiculous thoughts and continued kneading the dough for that day's bread.

The thought made him smile a little.

And then Finch made it worse. Again.

“And a hotdog is a sandwich.”

This time Henry sat up, the bed creaking underneath him. “What.”

“Bread. Meat. Bread. Sandwich.”

He stared down at Finch, who was still curled up, blanket pulled to his chin, eyes open staring at the underside of the bunk above him, looking to the world like he was deep in thought.

And Henry had to deal with it.

He flopped back down on his pillow, letting his body mimic the unconsciousness he so desperately wished for as he slammed into the mattress and privately thanked God for both the bed not breaking and the fact he didn’t land on Finch’s feet

“Fine. I get your cereal-soup argument, but there's nothing you can say to convince me that a hot dog is a damn sandwich.”

Finch was silent for a second.

Too long, almost.

.

“Bread. Meat. Bread.”

“Oh my God.”

“Are you gonna try and tell me I’m wrong?”

“You are wrong.”

“I don’t think I’m ever wrong.”

At this point Henry had little to do but accept his fate. No sleep, no blanket, no friends with morals when it came to sandwiches. This was it.

“Oh trust me, we know.” He said.

He waited for a response, five seconds… then ten…

But Finch had seemed to finally go silent.

Cautiously, as to not wake him up, Henry readjusted the thin yet somehow lumpy pillow behind his head, shuffled a little to the left so Finch’s foot wasn’t digging into his stomach, said a prayer to his Da and closed his eyes. He had no blanket, but he would live, it wasn’t even cold anymore coming into June but it was more so the principle of the thing.

Henry could move past that, he decided, be the bigger person.

“Hey Henry.”

His eyes shot open.

“You think water is wet?”