#but gotta complete the store's stock first

[victorluvsalice]

-->Eventually, though, I decided that was enough fishing, and sent everyone back to the store proper to finish up a few things. Victor, being hungry, was allowed to Delicioso himself a meal -- he conjured up some pepperoni pizza, which, I wish I could do that whenever I wanted. XD Smiler, meanwhile, got put on flower-arranging duty, making fresh bouquets to refill the shelves, while Alice sold all the wilted ones for me before taking everyone's catches downstairs to make more fishcakes. Victor finished his dinner, gave Smiler a bit of magical help with the remaining arrangements, then headed downstairs to make perfumes in Energized and Focusing scents --

-->And Alice headed UPSTAIRS after transforming into her beast form to hunt some more meat! Because she was hungry too, and I wanted her to go eat in a way that gave her XP. :p This in fact scored her an Ability point, which I sunk into Nightvision to make nighttime hunting easier -- and I do believe she came back quicker from this particular hunt as a result! So that'll be useful... Anyway, she nommed on her plate of steak while I dragged Smiler away from the fountain (they'd gone to play in it while unsupervised -- I keep saying NO FUN you lot!) to make more Red Hot Tablets...

-->But shortly after that, I was like, "okay, yeah, it's getting really late, you lot should probably head home." And so they did, where Victor and Alice immediately went to bed. XD Smiler, however, being a creature of the night who needs no sleep and full of inspiration from all that flower-arranging, kept going -- making a wrench to practice their Mixology skills (getting up to level 7 -- as you can see, they have gotten QUITE good at bottle stacking); giving said wrench to an ungrateful specter who didn't like it (meh); and promoting their old videos on SimsTube. Oh, and putting Boney in the fishtank. XD Always something to do on this farm!

But with that, we come to the end of this update. And, as you can see, the store is looking good -- almost all of the shelf space is filled! :D True, I did end up shoving all the extra boxes we had of veggie MREs and spare tomato sauce and such on that one shelf by the retail fridges TO fill it, but that still counts. :p But there were still one or two more things that needed to be put out, so join me next time for The Final Push To Fill The Store! *pumps fist*

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Steve calling you from work, a low rasp curled around that dripping, honey hot tone of his. It slaps you in the belly, finding its home - warm and slick between your legs.

“I need your pussy.”

“Steve,” you make your arguing case, but you can’t deny how you’re already tightening your thighs together, how you’re staring past the living room book-shelve just thinking about it.

“Yeah, honey? Fuck, I’m stocking some tapes in the back. You wanna start touching yourself a little for me?” There’s a breaking pause, a few deep breaths that you can imagine him shrugging into, and then he’s speaking as if his mouth is covering the phone piece in a rather crude manner.

“On second thought, don’t touch yourself. I wanna be the first to feel how wet you’ve gotten.”

“You’re at work, Harrington.” You’re scolding, even unconvinced by how out of it you already sound. You can practically hear that smirk on the other end of the line.

“Lucky for me and you, I just went on my lunch hour.”

You know that you want to, you’re well aware that he needs you to. But it’s fun to play with him a little. “Do you even have a condom on you? Last I checked, you needed to make a drug store trip.”

He doesn’t bite the playful line, instead, he rides in on a mischievous one and delivers you a golden platter offer. You picture him right now, one hand on his hip, breathing heavily, tongue poking from the side of his mouth, one arm elongated to prop against the paneled wall. He speaks with molten precision, making you choke on a whine.

“Let me finger you for a little bit? Please? It’s what I’ve been thinking about all day. Just gotta touch you.” He can tell how shakily your breathing has gotten, images of that wet patch soaking your underwear begin to overtake him. He whines, throat muscles tightening as he tries to hold it back. Licking his lips, he continues. “Make you cum, kiss your pretty little neck. And when I get home, you can use me as your personal trampoline.”

“Oh, god. Steve, I —“

“ — You’ll see me in ten minutes?”

“Five. I’ll meet you in the storage closet.”

It took you approximately four minutes to drive from your home to Family Video, and twenty seconds to get out of your seatbelt and into the building. Steve was waiting to your right, immediately closing in behind you to flip the closed sign, not bothering with the door lock as he guided you with a massive palm to the storage closet. Once you were inside, he lifted you around the waist onto your tiptoes, always strong enough to make you feel as tiny waisted as his former flames. You aren’t a bigger girl, not with him, you are Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, you are a woman, no size in mind, and he can never seem to keep his hands off you. He’s already burrowing into your neck, helping you find purchase against the small table stand, his shoes scuffing across the cheap flooring below.

His cologne blends in with the delicious spice of his work day sweat, stains underneath his arms on his polo. You toss a hand around his neck to hold on, opening your legs as he works with precision to get your jeans and panties down around your knees. His palm glides along the plush over your overflowing belly, giving a soft rub, encouraging by your mouth when it finds his face and leaves wet kisses all across. His jeans are so tight he feels like he’s going to burst, heart in his throat, ready to explode with love confessions and declarations of worship. Everyday with you, like this, trusting and close, Steve didn’t realize sex could be like this — mutual admiration and pure love, built on years of friendship and trust.

He gets emotional half the time you’re both physical, always finding the foundation that brought you two here. He’s completely gone when you’re whispering, “touch me, please?”

Who is Steve to not oblige? He’s met with such a soaked result that he bucks into your mouth at his temple, apologizing. “You’re wetter than I thought you’d be. You sure you didn’t play with yourself already?”

“You know I didn’t.” It’s you whose mouth has found his jawline, spare hand wrapping around the tendons in his wrist, shivering, driving the pathway. You’re fogged, eyes wet with tears of want and raw desire. “Put your fingers in me. You said you wanted to make me cum, so do it, Steve.”

It’s a quick moving dynamic, mouths pressed, touching, only to part, but remaining pressed together seconds later, drunk on trembling breaths as he goes knuckle deep, and you’re already trying to bounce yourself on his hand, sopping wet noises echoing with panting breaths and heaving chests in the expanse of the space you’re in. He coaxes you to slow down, to feel him give you pleasure. But from the way he’s whining, you aren’t so sure he won’t come from this. And that’s what helps you open up to the second finger, elated into desperation. After a few kisses, he finds your throat to lavish with that hot mouth of his, making better than good on his promise.

[chaosandmarigolds]

(╯°^°)╯

🎄

Okay yeah I know it’s the middle of summer but I miss Ollie and this is the only coherent Dad!Simon and Ollie Drabble I have in the databanks (this is pure fluff, toodles!!!)

Simon! Who did spend holidays with his team so the idea of being with others wasn’t entirely foreign to him

However the idea of Christmas shopping and not just grabbing the bulk pack of toolkits for everyone was indeed very foreign

Simon! Who, had Ollie circle the toys he wanted from a store catalog about two months before Christmas, sitting down across from him in the restaurant he took him too after school- serious as if he was about to announce some horrid trade by, but no,

Simon! Who was a bit more than confused when nothing was circled and instead Ollie was staring at him, red marker in his hand, and seemed to mimic his completely stone cold demeanor

“Ollie lad, gotta tell mum and me whatcha want, otherwise Santa won’t know.” The little boy frowns, “Oh Santa knows.”

Simon! Who was very certain that Santa didn’t know

Simon! Who spent the next two months trying to pry the information out of Ollie, who kept replying with a coy smile and a brief ‘Santa knows’

Simon! Who was fine with childlike banter but if Ollie said that one more time he would tell that kid that Santa was MIA

Simon! Who refused to ask you for help because this was his first Christmas and he would be DAMNED if he had to ask for help and or messed it up

Simon! Who practically gave up on getting the perfect present and got other things he knew the young boy would like, leaving the wrapping to you after a…less than flattering attempt was made

Simon! Who on Christmas Eve as he was tucking Ollie in after baking cookies and watching the polar express, realized-

“Do you think Santa transports people to the beach?”

“Mm?”

“like like, since I want- since I wanna go beach does Santa use his magic to make us go? Or does do-do we-is magic?”

Simon!! Who ran into your bedroom, which you were still getting Ollie’s stocking packed so-

“Simon?”

“how does a vacation sound? Where we had our honeymoon?”

“I-“

“Wonderful! Our flight leaves at 9am!”

( :) anyway, love y’all! Toodles!!)

[emmyrosee]

He knows you’re tired. Exhausted even.

Standing in line at the grocery store, you’d been closer and cuddlier to Koutarou than usual, burrowing your head in the nape of his neck and swaying slightly to stand. On the car ride home, you can barely keep your eyes open, leaning over the center console and trying to burrow into him.

He loves it an unhealthy amount.

But he doesn’t know, really, why you’re so out of it today- you say you don’t know either, but he thinks youre full of it, and he can tell by the cheeky look you give him every time he asks.

It’s not your fault Kodzuken’s been streaming at ungodly hours lately.

It does seem to reach a point today where you’re a zombie, barely able to function or move without a massive delay. It took you and Koutarou fifteen minutes to unload the car’s groceries; by the sixteenth, he scoops you in his bulky arms and carries you in.

“Taro, no,” you grumble, not really putting up a fight. “Gotta help you.” Still ignoring you, he settles you on the couch with a blanket and a kiss loving nuzzle to your nose, and tutting softly when you mumble a barely coherent ‘m fine.’

“No, you’re not,” he chuckles, guiding you back down. “I got the groceries. Then we can cuddle and nap and be as close as you want.”

And while your eyes look as if there’s a fight in you, your smile of mercy says otherwise, and you lay your head back down onto the arm of the couch and pull the blanket higher, allowing yourself to drift.

And Bokuto has full intentions of letting you sleep. Honestly! The groceries are being stocked, frozen’s tucked away until there’s an incessant buzzing on his phone.

A flurry of text updates from Atsumu; EJP’s game finally started, and he’d be a liar if he said he wanted to miss it.

“Ah, no way! I thought their game was earlier!” He says aloud, bounding into the living room and plopping down onto the couch, startling you from your sleep. You whine angrily, but he’s already zoned in to the action. He feels your eyes boring into him, and the couch dips under your moving weight as you crawl towards him.

“Who’s game?”

He forgets to answer as his eyes are now focused on the screen, a smile of excitement curling on his face as he lets his eyes dance over the action of the game in the middle of its first set.

“EJP? I thought we missed it.”

“Yeah!” He says excitedly. “It’s Washio’s team- game must’ve gotten bumped, thought it was earlier too.”

“Did it just start?”

“Seems like it,” he says, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug. You nuzzle and curl against him, but his excitement never lets you get too comfortable in his husky frame.

This, has you silent for a second. Then, you hum next to him and get up, breaking his focus from the television, “where are you going?” He asks softly, but turns back towards the tv when a whistle blows.

“Just have to use the bathroom,” you say, planting a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be back, just keep track of the plays for me.”

“You got it!” He says happily, leaning forward on his knees to watch the match.

Time truly does fly, as within seemingly minutes after turning on the tv, EJP finally seems to sweep the match completely, the post game interviews starting up right after. He pouts, but when he looks at his phone, his brows shoot up as nearly an hour has passed from when he turned on the tv.

He turns his head to ask you what you thought, but when he does, you’re not there. The spot next to him is cold, and he checks his phone again to see if you maybe left without telling him?

No dice.

He has no clue where you went.

“Baby?” He calls, rising from the couch and clicking off the tv to look for you. The house is silent, you’ve seemingly vanished from the vicinity, but you usually are pretty good at telling him when you leave.

He calls your name once again before finally crawling up the stairs to search, but it doesn’t take long for him to peek through the ajar door and smile at your napping form.

You’re curled up on his side of the bed, cuddled into his pillow and resting soundly under the blanket. Your eyes twitch as you dream your extravagant dreams, one he’s sure you’ll tell him about later. Koutarou sighs softly in relief before coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he mumbles lowly, as if to not scare you. “Whatcha doin?” When you mewl a quiet ‘taro?’, he crawls next to you in bed, spooning you into his warm arms and gently taking selfish inhales of your scent. You flip into his embrace and burrow into the dip of his neck as you’ve done countless of times in your relationship.

“Game over?” You murmur, and he shushes you softly.

“Yeah- we won. I would’ve let you nap; you didn’t have to abandon me,” he snickers.

There’s a cheeky smirk that spreads on your slumbered features. It’s obvious to him now that you wanted to be alone to sleep, and while he’s not thrilled you were in here by yourself, or that you tricked him to be alone, he’s gotta admit that you played the game well. “You were busy,” you murmur. “Nice to nap without your snores.”

“Excuse you.” He kisses your forehead and uses one of his massive hands to cup the back of your head. “Go back to bed. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Mkay,” you yawn. The room is silent again, and just before your breathing can even out once again, you giggle from his neck. “Can’t believe you bought it.”

“I can’t believe you tricked me!”

You let out another little snicker before tuck closer to him, letting sleep take over while Bokuto lets his fingers gently massaging the back of your head with soft hands.

He’ll just have to scold you for it later.

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You take Bradley's credit card with you to shop for honeymoon attire and decide to give him sneak previews along the way. Then, you make another video to ensure he's well entertained on his deployment.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were enjoying the most leisurely day, strolling around the mall completely solo. You'd sent Bradley off to play golf at seven o'clock with just a peck on the cheek, and then you'd gone back to bed until nine. Now you were sipping an iced coffee and eating a gigantic cinnamon bun, trying to psych yourself up to try on a bunch of lingerie. 

There were some really beautiful things in the window display, and you definitely wanted to run up a large credit card bill for Bradley. But the fluorescent lighting in the fitting rooms always made you cringe. While you told him last night that you'd send him some photos today, you weren't so sure now. The idea of teasing him with some pictures of honeymoon lingerie where all of your imperfections were highlighted had you grimacing. 

"Maybe it won't be so bad," you murmured to yourself as you tossed your trash and headed into the store. 

Thirty minutes later, you had been set up in a fitting room with a plethora of things to try on. You ran your fingers along satin, lace and silk in every color of the rainbow, but especially a little heavy on the red.

"Okay. Showtime." You stripped all of your clothes off and tried not to look in the mirror as you pulled on a stretchy, red lace mini dress. "Holy shit," you muttered, finally looking in the mirror. Everything looked pretty good, even in the bad lighting. Bradley would probably love this one. 

You snapped a few pictures and selected the best one, texting it to him before you could change your mind. You added the caption:

Let's play a game. Rate all of these on a scale of 1 to 10, and I'll buy some of your favorites. 

As soon as you were fastening a black bra, he wrote back.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: holy shit, i almost walked into a sand trap while i was looking at that. 10/10!

You laughed and added the first item to the keeper pile. Then you snapped a few shots of the black bra that you actually loved and could pair with matching crotchless panties. When you sent a photo and asked what he thought about that, you cackled when he responded. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: 10/10! for the love of god, i need you to get that set. promise me right now. 

You promised him you'd get it and added it to the keeper pile. When you sent a photo of a white bridal set complete with garters and stockings, he sent back a selfie of himself in the golf cart with his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: don't make me beg. i need to be able to take that off you. 11/10.

You were having so much fun with him, but you simply replied by reminding him to reapply sunblock. And then he wrote back begging for more pictures. You tried on one set in both purple and red and asked which one he liked better.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: red. always red. but get the purple too. does it come in other colors? 12/10. you are killing me here. gotta play six more holes with my dick kinda hard.

You decided to take photos of everything else you were trying on, and send them sporadically throughout the rest of the afternoon while he and the guys were out drinking. You took the massive pile of things you and he both liked to the register, along with something special for tonight. 

"Wow, you found a lot today!" said the cashier and you just laughed. 

"It's mostly for my honeymoon."

"Congratulations! I guess you don't plan on leaving the hotel room with your spouse at all?" she asked with a grin.

You pressed your lips together before muttering, "That's the plan."

She snorted and told you about the boutique website where you could order personalized items as well. "Here, I'll give you a free shipping code. Your total is one thousand two hundred and twenty seven dollars."

You handed her Bradley's credit card with a satisfied smirk. If he wanted you to run up his credit card bill with this stuff, you'd add some personalized items when you got home and make it even worse. 

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

Bradley felt overstimulated and twitchy. You were an absolute menace, sending him photo after photo all day long. You were wearing bras that showed everything. You were wearing sheer dresses that hugged your curves. You were wearing panties that showed off your tattoo. He saved each new image as they arrived, already thinking about using them to jerk off while he was deployed in a few weeks. 

"Why are you so distracted?" Jake asked as Bradley saved a photo of you wearing a red string bikini with the side tied above your tattoo. "Oh, Angel's sending you porn."

Bradley hid his phone screen and glared. "It's not porn," Bradley said, glancing at the photo again. The top was barely covering your nipples. He licked his lips and said, "It's just a bathing suit." 

"That looked like less than a bathing suit," Jake replied, switching out his five iron. 

"Stop looking at it!" Bradley grunted. 

"Stop looking at what?" Payback asked, adjusting his gloves. 

Jake nodded toward Bradley's phone. "His girl sent him dirty photos."

"Lucky," echoed Fanboy, Coyote and Payback in perfect unison.

"They are not dirty photos. She's out shopping," he said, not sure what he was trying to defend here. You were about to become his wife. You loved each other. Nothing was actually inappropriate. "You know what, yeah. She's sending me dirty photos." All the guys put their fists out for a fist bump, except for Bob who was blushing and rummaging around in his golf bag looking for his putter. 

"Come on, Bob," Payback called. "This is fist bump worthy!"

Bob just shook his head. "Don't you guys remember when she yelled at us for being crude? She literally lined us up in their living room and ripped us apart. I'm showing nothing but respect."

"Oh shit, I remember," Coyote said. "It's why we're all jealous of Rooster. She's protective."

Bradley just grinned and passed out some cans of beer for them to all drink during the end of their round of golf.

"Eighteenth hole," he announced, tucking his phone away. "Then bar hopping."

The guys all cheered and headed toward the tee.

And this was precisely why Bradley had always preferred to hang around with Nat. Because even when he was just hooking up with women, back before he met you, he never liked the banter and always tried to keep things like this private. 

Bradley played the last hole terribly as you sent him another photo of you wearing a few scraps of black fabric with garters while he was trying to putt. You were so pretty, bright eyes looking at the camera as if you were really looking at him. He wanted to skip out on the afternoon of drinking, but he knew the guys would never let him live it down. 

So he told you he would be home after they went to the steakhouse for dinner, and you told him not to rush. Apparently you had some online shopping to do.

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

You were going way overboard now with Bradley's credit card, but you couldn't help yourself. This website had the most adorable satin underwear that you could personalize with anything you wanted. You were up to five pairs in your shopping cart and counting. Your favorite ones were going to be embroidered with Daddy's Baby Girl. You even decided to get a blue thong with Mrs. Bradshaw across the front to go under your wedding dress, even though you weren't sure about changing your name yet. 

You yawned and figured you should probably do something with your day besides shop for expensive underwear. So you took Tramp for a walk to the bay, emailed your wedding photographer, did some meal prepping, and made yourself a grilled cheese sandwich doused in hot sauce for dinner. Then you carefully hand washed some of your new lingerie and set aside the items you were going to wear tonight. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll be home soon, baby girl. jake's dropping me off

You quickly got changed into the pastel pink bustier and matching thong and pulled your jeans back on. With a grin, you decided the bustier could pass for a top and just left your outfit at that. Tramp started barking as Jake pulled into the driveway, and a moment later, Jake was following Bradley inside. 

"I told you to reapply sunblock!" you said immediately, taking in both sunburned men. "You guys look like lobsters."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. "It's just a little pink," he insisted, running his fingers along your top and smiling. "You look pretty."

"And you look sweaty and smell like cheap beer."

"You love cheap beer," Bradley insisted, making you laugh.

"How much did you drink?"

He nodded his head and sighed. "Plenty. But I'm fine, Sweetheart."

Jake walked past and messed up your hair on his way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some water and then I'm leaving," he insisted. "I can tell the Bradshaws need some time alone."

"Never stopped you from hanging around and being annoying before," Bradley told him as he looked down at your chest with interest. "Did you buy this today?" he asked softly. "You must have. I know your inventory by heart."

You nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Mmhmm."

"Feel like making another video?"

"Hell yes."

"Go get in the shower, Roo."

You watched him dash into your bedroom just as Jake walked back out of the kitchen with a water bottle. "I'm not gonna stay, Angel," Jake drawled, taking a sip of water. "Just wanted to say you looked real nice in that red bikini," he said, ducking out of the way of your hand aiming to smack him.

"How did you see it?" you asked, pushing him toward the front door while he howled with laughter. 

"He had his phone out all day, mooning over the smut you were sending him! It was right there on the screen!"

"Go away. Goodbye. Thanks for driving Bradley home. See you on Monday," you said, pecking him on the cheek before shoving him out the door. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, Bradley was walking out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was sunburned and tipsy and so endearingly adorable, you started giggling. 

"My phone battery is almost dead, Baby Girl. Please tell me yours is good to go," he said, leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. 

"Yep, My phone is good to go. Are you good to go, Roo? I can't tell if your cheeks are rosy from the sunburn or the drinks," you said, teasing his abs with your fingers. 

"I'm always good to go for you," he promised, and you knew it was the truth. 

You unwrapped the yellow towel from his waist and licked your lips at the sight of him half hard. "Go get in bed," you whispered, and he was on his way. He watched you shimmy out of your jeans and grab your phone. You crawled up the bed next to him and whispered, "You want me to be your bratty little slut again tonight? Or are you going to be my Daddy?"

He pulled you close and kissed you. "I get to choose?" 

"Yeah," you told him with a wink. "A special treat to take on your deployment."

He was rubbing his hands along your bustier and down over your butt. "Well, I already have a video with my bratty little slut," he said, and you watched his cock jump against his thigh. "Daddy wants to play tonight. You look like a little princess in this color."

You moaned against his mouth. "Sounds good to me," you said, fiddling with your phone and letting him hold it as he started recording you. You watched Bradley grin as he pushed your underwear aside a bit to record you shaking your hips with your tattoo exposed. "Did you just call me a princess?" 

"Yeah," he grunted as you wrapped your hand around his length. "Daddy's little princess, all pretty in pink."

For a moment you marveled over the fact that you had an easier time slipping into the role of a bratty little slut. But after a moment of wiggling yourself along his body, you thought you had the hang of Daddy's princess.

"Daddy, I had such a long day," you said, a whine tingeing the edges of your voice as you straddled his lap and ran your fingers along your lace and satin covered torso. "I am exhausted from spending your money."

Bradley groaned softly, setting goosebumps loose across your skin. "Tell me what you bought, Princess," Bradley instructed, grinding his cock against the front of your panties. He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, parting them and coaxing you to lick the tip. "And then tell Daddy he's allowed to do whatever he wants with you."

You sucked on his thumb. Bradley was the hottest thing in the world. As you listed off some of the things you bought with his credit card, Bradley gently wrapped one hand around the front of your neck and then pulled the pink fabric of your underwear to the side, letting his cock glide through your wetness. You only briefly recognized that he had propped your phone up to record everything before you got lost in him completely. 

"And how much of my money did you spend, Princess?" he asked, his raspy voice making you even wetter as he licked his lips. 

"Two thousand dollars," you gasped as his big hand slipped lower on your neck and trailed over the tops of your breasts. 

He tsked with his tongue and shook his head. "That's not enough."

"I was supposed to spend more?" you asked, your voice breaking as Bradley slipped his cock inside you. He yanked you closer with his fingers on the back of your neck, and you gasped as he started kissing you. 

"You were supposed to spend all of it. Why does Daddy even work, other than to pamper you, Baby Girl?" You squeezed around his cock just at the mere implication of his words. 

"Are you going to take care of me forever?" you asked softly against his lips as you rode him slowly. He responded by swiping his tongue deep into your mouth and making you moan. 

"As long as you take care of Daddy."

You were whimpering now as your clit was grinding against him with each movement. 

"You can have anything you want," you promised him. And you felt it before you saw it. Bradley ripped the crotch of your pretty, new underwear to get full access to your pussy. He was suddenly fucking up into you hard, the veins in his neck and forehead prominent against his slightly sunburned skin.

"Oh my god!" you hissed, surprised by what he had done. 

But no sooner had you recovered before he was smacking your thighs gently and saying, "Up. Turn around and get on all fours."

You did as you were told, watching his wet length slide out of you, wishing you were allowed to lick him. But that's not what Daddy wanted. 

When you were on your hands and knees in front of him, he pushed your face down against the bedding before kissing and licking all along your wet slit and rear end from behind. 

"You didn't listen, Princess," he said before lapping his tongue against you. "Gotta spank you."

He landed one hard slap on your butt before you could even respond. "Daddy," you whined as he spanked you again and again. You felt feverish with need while he spanked you and scolded you for not spending enough money on honeymoon attire. You were clenching around nothing as he told you to go back to the store and replace the underwear that was now just a piece of elastic around your waist. 

He spanked you harder as he said, "If you're my Princess, you can have anything you want."

"I want you to fuck me!" you almost screamed as his hand landed on you again. But you knew he wasn't going to do that yet. Rather he lightly spanked your pussy from behind, his fingers hitting your wet clit as you whined. 

Then he shoved two long fingers deep inside you without warning and leaned up to press his lips to your neck right below your ear. You almost cried when he whispered, "What's my name?"

"Daddy!" Your broken yell filled the room. "I want you to fuck me, Daddy!"

His cock replaced his fingers immediately, and he fucked you hard, your cheek pressing into the bed. But the spanking only paused momentarily. He grabbed you around your waist with his left hand, getting a handful of you just below your bustier while he landed a stinging slap on your already overworked skin. All while slamming into you. 

"You didn't do what Daddy wanted."

"Please." You were almost crying, and you wanted to cum so badly. "I'll do whatever you want."

"You go back to the store and spend more money. I want you wearing something new for me each day on our honeymoon. No exceptions." 

You tried your best to verbally agree with him, and soon he wrapped his fingers around to tease your clit instead of spank you. With just a few swipes of his talented fingers, you came hard, a few of your tears trailing along your nose to the bedding. 

The familiar sound of Bradley cumming inside your pussy had you smiling at last as he filled you up. He wrapped both arms around you and yanked you up flush against his chest. "You really are Daddy's little Princess, Baby GIrl."

You moaned softly as he kissed along your bare shoulder. "Occasionally I'm your bratty little slut."

"I love you," he promised, and he let you lay against him as he eased back against the pillows, his cock still buried inside you.

"My ass is throbbing, Roo," you whispered with a soft laugh as he ran his mustache along your neck. 

"But you did so good. I'll get you in the bath in a minute, Sweetheart."

You just relaxed back into his embrace while he touched and kissed you. "I hope you enjoy that video while you're deployed." You kissed along his tattoo and ran the tip of your nose across the pretty script writing.

"I can guarantee I will," he promised, finally reaching for your phone to end the video. 

You turned and smiled at him when he said, "And now I have several minutes of us cuddling together to watch as well. I might watch that part the most."

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

Bradley scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom, setting you on the edge of the tub while he got the water ready for you. He wasn't kidding; he'd always do his best to take care of you and give you anything you wanted. Because you tried to take care of him, too. And you were really all he wanted. 

"Climb in, Sweetheart," he whispered, and he watched you unfasten what was left of that sinfully hot lingerie and sink into the water. "I'm sorry I ripped your underwear."

You started laughing as you turned to look at him. "You're not sorry!"

He grimaced. "I'm a little bit sorry. Buy a new one. You still have my credit card." He knelt on the floor next to the tub and helped you get settled.

"I'll buy a new one next week when I go back to the store to ensure I have something new to wear for all ten days of our honeymoon. Daddy told me I had to."

Bradley actually felt himself blushing. He liked it when you called him that even when it wasn't exactly part of foreplay or bedroom activities. You were making him feel so substantial in your life. 

"Roo, next weekend is Halloween," you whispered as he sat on the floor and watched you wash your arms while Tramp curled up in his lap. "Gotta start planning our party."

"We're really having it? I thought maybe you brought that up just to distract Cam and Maria from the wedding conversation?" he absentmindedly stroked Tramp's ears, completely mesmerized by you. 

"We're really having it. And I know just what our costumes can be," you said with a playful look in your eye.

"Tell me," he whispered, leaning toward you and kissing your nose. 

"Well... I think you can get away with wearing part of your dress whites for your costume..."

He smiled. "Okay, sounds good so far. I love it when you take my uniforms off of me. But what's your costume?"

You just chuckled and said, "Oh, you'll like it. And it comes with three wishes for me to grant for you."

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

Making another video....oof, I love them. Happy Halloween? Any costume guesses?

PART 14

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[baekhyunsbestie]

This anon is so true for spilling the truth beans. Like didn't we talk about how he walks around as if it is heavy (it is a heavy thannngggg) so like he needs to dump the load from those heavy smacking balls and well we know what happens next

But now I am thinking of honeymoon period marathon sex that does lead to the conception of his first child aka his cutest baby girl and like he is so smug to carry his baby girl in his arms in the first wedding anniversary like everyone can do the math and understand why the baby is here within 9-10 months of getting married. Honestly speaking he is the type of guy to drop protection completely after getting married because like what is the point since both Baekhyun and reader are okay with the idea of having kids (he is more feral tho and obviously can't keep hands off of her)

But anyway, I am probably just projecting and I should calm down 😭

LMFAOOOO maya this is us whenever we talk 😭😭😭😭

omg but i think the first time he'd hit it raw is when things are serious, like truly serious. when you're both completely intertwined in each other’s lives. like you’ve met his family, he’s met yours, the three big words have been exchanged, and talks of a future together flow naturally. you've been on birth control since long before dating, so there’s no stress about that, but baekhyun is still cautious. he’s meticulous about protection, using condoms as an extra preventative—not that he’d mind a surprise. still, he’d rather plan it out, especially for the first one.

lmfaaaoooooo one day though, right before the diabolical boogie, he checks his nightstand and says, “oh shoot, i guess i forgot to grab more condoms.” LIE. you shoot him a look of disbelief, almost laughing. baekhyun? forgetting something like that? no waaaaaay. the guy practically has a mini drug store stocked at all times.

“ssuuuurrreeee you did, baek,” you roll your eyes, seeing right through him. “so what're you gonna do????? i’m drying up over here.”

after a second, he breaks into a grin and shrugs, half shy, half resolute. “aahhhh, fuck it. we're gonna get married one day anyway.”

you'd look at him like ?????? 😭🤚🏼 and go, "woah, did i miss a proposal or something?! don't i get a say in this????"

lmfao and he'd be like "hmm, actually.... no!!! you're stuck with me for life."

you’d murmur something teasingly like, “geez, i hope the real proposal has a little more romance than that.”

and the second he feels you, skin to skin—his bare, already aching tip brushing against your slick heat—god! it's like a switch flips. the feeling hits him so hard, so deep, he knows in an instant: there's no going back, e v e r.

three minutes in, and his mind’s already racing, making a mental checklist: who to call, what to plan, how soon he can make this official. because holy shit, with the way you’re gripping around him so tight, so wet, he’s this close to hauling you to the courthouse tomorrow and making you his wife 😭😭😭😭

later, he’s in the kitchen, grabbing a usual post-romp snack (because of course, he’s gotta eat after that), and you call out, “hey baby, do you have an extra charger? mine's not working.” he yells back that there should be a spare in the nightstand. and as soon as you open the drawer, you find it. same place it always is.

a brand-new, sealed pack of condoms.

he’d hear your laugh and rush back, eyes wide as an instant blush creeps up his neck, blooming across his cheeks. the realization hitting him cus he just got CAUGHT hahahahaha

[werepuppy-steve]

steddie dads | wc: 669 | cw: none

Steve pauses outside the bathroom in the downstairs hallway, basket of dirty laundry tucked under his arm. The door is shut, which isn’t weird, but he can hear little splashes on the other side of it and what sounds like plastic bottles being dropped on the counter. Steve presses his ear to the wood and the whispered muttering tells him all he needs to know.

He needs to get these clothes in the washer first, so he takes the basket down to the laundry room before coming back to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother knocking, if he does, it’ll just make room for a hurried clean up. He turns the knob as quietly as he can (it’s not locked, thank God) but as soon as he opens the door, he’s hit in the face with a smell that makes his nose burn and his eyes water. Emma stands on her princess step stool in front of the sink, completely oblivious to him standing there.

The sink that’s filled with blue soapy water and smells like a Hollister store exploded.

Steve crosses his arms and leans against the doorway as Emma stays concentrated on whatever concoction she’s making, muttering under her breath in a way that undeniably makes her Eddie’s child. “What’cha doin’ there, Emmylou?”

Emma jumps and the bottle of lotion she slips out of her little hands and clatters on the tile. Her brown eyes wide as saucers and her mouth puckered in a tiny ‘o’ shape. It makes her look like an adorable fish and Steve has to clear his throat to stifle his laughter.

“Looks like an awful big mess in here.”

“I’m making potion.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Potion?”

“Mhm.” Emma nods, her curls, identical to Eddie’s, bouncing. “I’m a witch.”

Steve takes stock of the multiple bottles covering the counter; shampoo, conditioner, sunscreen, his and Eddie’s (expensive) cologne, lotion. You name it, it’s probably been poured in the sink. Briefly, Steve wonders if he’ll have to get underneath and unclog the drain. They’re definitely going over budget on groceries next week to replace everything.

Still, Steve can’t bring himself to actually be mad at her for being a kid and having an active imagination. He steps into the room and tries not to cough from the fumes wafting from the hot water. Christ, he’s gotta get Emma out of here and into fresh air.

“Well, Miss Witch, what do you say we clean all of this up and you can use those potion making still to help me make dinner? Dad’s gonna be home soon.”

At the mention of Eddie, Emma gasps and quickly scrambles off the step stool, but Steve is quicker. He catches her under the arms and puts her right back where she was.

“Not so fast, little lady,” he says, his hands on his hips. He will not be swayed by the pout his daughter is giving him. The very same pout that makes him cave to every ridiculous idea Eddie has ever had. He has to be stern. “What are the rules about messes?”

Emma lets out the biggest sigh her tiny body is capable of. “If you do the crime, you gotta do the time,” she mumbles.

Steve bends to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Smart girl. Go grab a towel and clean up the water, please. I’ll take care of the bottles.”

Ten minutes later, the sink is drained and cleaned and the bottles are thrown away, but the smell has permeated the room completely. Figuring out what to do about it is a job for later-Steve, so he shuts the door and gets Emma upstairs for her own bath before they start on dinner.

When Eddie comes home from the studio, he dips into the bathroom and Steve doesn’t bother holding back his laughs when Eddie drops to the floor and crawls back out, coughing like he’s a cat with a hairball.

“Jesus Christ, who made fucking anthrax in the bathroom?!”

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[vmlnrznotfound]

Hello how are you

I hope you're doing well

May i request Sae with prompt 6. miserably touch starved boyfriend and his girlfriend who hates physical affection

Like Black cat gf

Thank you!

tension and tenderness.

the last time sae fought with you was long back. just like every couple. it happens, as it sometimes does, nothing surprising, nothing unhealthy. this afternoon stood different, however. as he halted himself mid way, incase the passive-aggressive tones would escalate into yellings or more or worse.

now as he was zoned out at the grocery store. the elderly cashier, who was intently scanning items at her register, she likely wouldn't pass judgement on him. it was late, after all, and the store was relatively quiet. with this moment of quiet, he allowed himself to ponder the fight that occurred. and he realises that he did the right to halt his words midway. he's glad he shut his mouth. he knows he should do it often.

despite the painful awkward silence that lingered in the afternoon—all due to his mistake—he considers himself lucky. as you, still accepted a kiss on the cheek before he stepped out, and this memory quickly pushed away the recollection of the fight from his mind. his thoughts now dwelled on this brief, tender moment with you, and he yearned for more. he wanted to kiss you more. everywhere his lips desired.

as if someone slapped him to consciousness, he shakes his head, adjusting the cap on properly. like any typical boyfriend, he grabs the snacks you like. some new ones in stock he assumes you would like. and the condoms he had been starting at subconsciously for the past few minutes. if maybe not an apology or snacks, there's gotta be a third way or more to woo you.

your initial response after seeing the bag with snacks was to reach out and grab them. your attempt to do so prevented by sae who swiftly moved the bag out of your reach. telling you to at least let him in first and that the bag may or may not be heavy for you to carry. gently giving your head a little bonk—which you initially got annoyed at, not knowing it was a little excuse for him to have your undivided attention—before taking his shoes off and stepping in.

he places the bags on the kitchen table, you immediately grabbing onto the snacks you desired. sae questioned you if you're heading to bed, noticing you wearing comfy clothes, not forgetting to notice them looking undeniably cozy, just perfect for snuggling. and you told him you, were indeed heading to bed, as you set your desired snacks aside and helped placing the other once in their respective places. placing the energy drinks in the fridge, completely ignoring when sae nagged at you about you skipping dinner.

it was his time to ignore you when you kept telling him not to order food. his phone snatched right after he dialed three digits. it was his turn to get annoyed as well, grabbing onto your wrist tightly and pulling you closer. his mind diving into the gutter deeper if possible. just a little closer and he'd have the kiss he yearned. and you waited for it too, half out of anxiety and half out of—cause maybe you yearned to give him the affection that he craved for so long. but instead, he simply snatches his phone back, keeping in mind to not cross the boundaries. but he's a bit selfish too. still holding onto your wrist and keeping you closer. until distraction in the form of the pack of condoms fall from the bag.

you're not looking at him, he's doesn't really have more courage to keep staring at you. but he already assumed what you might be thinking. he assumed you were thinking of his audacity to...

you shove him away. grabbing onto the two chocolate bars as you head to the bedroom while sae reminds he's still gonna order food. and he lets out the most heart-wrenching sigh any living creature has ever made.

sae sees you eating the chocolate bars while being in the bed. considering if he should nag at you or make a lame joke about getting ants in the bed. he decides to shut up instead. thinking that yeah, that's probably the better thing to do.

you're already lying on your side when sae plops on the bed beside you. putting an arm around your waist as he pulls you in closer, he apologizes. yes. itoshi sae says sorry. you let out a deep breath, him feeling you resisting the urge to push his hand away.

he makes you turn to face him. his voice seeming much bold and stricter only for him to go dead silent when you do so. eyes shamlessly falling onto your lips. and oh how he wanted to have those handsy make-out sessions. which were pretty rare, only making his mind wander even more with other naughty possibilities.

he takes your hand in his instead. kissing on the cold knuckles as says sorry again. placing more kisses on your fingertips while repeatedly apologizing.

and the soft features you had on while looking at him soon turned into annoyed once. yet again. as you scold him. pointing all the mistakes he made. which he only agrees with, repeating that he knows. he knows.

"i know. and im sorry. can i kiss you now?"

and you give in. telling him yes but man the time wasn't on his side. and the doorbell with the awaiting delicious meal never sounded more frustrating.

[seat-safety-switch]

The world is changing now. Soon, it will leave me and all the knowledge I accumulated during my life behind. It's not too late for me to get into the permanent record, though, with this information about a long-lost art of car ownership. I speak, of course, of the car stereo installation.

Nowadays, car stereos are largely an extension of your phone. And why shouldn't they be? Your phone can access any music you desire, conjure up pornographic visions from the ether itself, and tell you how to get out of the corn maze that you and your borderline-sentient 1979 Firebird Formula have gotten stuck in during your latest secret-agent shenanigans. Car manufacturers make terrible stock stereos, and so it just makes sense for them to step aside and turn them into "big screen that phone makes go."

It is for this same reason that, before the ubiquitous smartphone era, we wanted to swap the stereos in our shit-box Hondas. In the late 90s and early 00s, new standards were coming out practically every weekend. You didn't want to be the dope with an AM/FM/Tape combo when it was possible to be the brave technologist who accidentally bought a stereo on sale that only understood uncompressed Mini-Discs and the Diamond Rio 600. You could go to the store and buy a "head unit" (car stereo dweeb speak for "car stereo") and jam it into the dashboard, yourself. Sure, there were semi-professional installers out there, usually working at that very same store. Those installers cost money, though, and surely you can connect between 15 and 200 wires together in a way that doesn't burn your car down, right?

Wiring a stereo wasn't really that hard. It was just one of those death-by-a-thousand-papercuts deals. You pull out the old stereo, a task which ranges between "annoying" and "holy shit I don't think my car will ever go together again." Then, you unplug it from the wiring harness. They call it a wiring harness, because you get whipped by it and still somehow enjoy the experience.

It's at this point that the driveway-installing amateurs are separated from the driveway-installing pros. A smart person gets a little plug-in wiring adapter that translates from the car's wiring to the stereo's wiring. Someone who forgot to buy the little wiring adapter from the stereo store, and doesn't want to go back there because their car is torn into a million pieces, decides to hack and slash, twisting and soldering the car into the stereo permanently. This works too, but it will be a problem in about two weeks, when the MP3-CD player you just spent your paycheque on becomes obsolete, and is replaced by a Tokyo-24-HotSauce-WMV-DVD player.

Now comes the harrowing. You have just made your car's stereo harness much, much longer, and also likely much fatter. You gotta cram that shit back in the hole it came out of, ideally without getting in the way of anything else inside the dashboard. This is the point at which you must decide whether you will spend eight more hours routing wires, potentially re-doing the wiring work you just completed, or explain to your significant other that the heater controls only go two-thirds of the way to "cool" now. You will pass through this crucible and emerge a stronger, angrier person. You will have opinions on electrical tape for the first time in your life. Your neighbours will call the cops to have you killed after you swear loudly enough to wake their babies. The cops will laugh as you nearly pass out from heat exhaustion underneath your dashboard.

And in the end, you will be able to play an MP3 file from a burned CD. Congratulations. It was all worth it, until you go over a slight bump and the damn thing skips a bunch. I hear the new ones on the shelves now have a bigger anti-skip buffer. And those stock speakers, well, they sound like shit, now that you have this fancy new stereo blaring 64kbps Napster rips through it. Maybe pick up a new amplifier while you're at it, and an upgraded alternator to handle all that new current demand, and...

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction. 

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street. 

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine. 

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile. 

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly. 

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action. 

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again. 

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed. 

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug. 

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo. 

“You’re new here.” 

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out. 

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person. 

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away. 

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder. 

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw. 

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was. 

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were. 

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said. 

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass. 

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan. 

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m. 

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window. 

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing. 

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee. 

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it. 

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here. 

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well. 

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual. 

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases. 

“I got it!” called Cindy. 

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her. 

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you. 

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans. 

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.” 

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.” 

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. “Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door. 

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied. 

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls. 

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight. 

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.” 

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store. 

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly. 

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.  

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins. 

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled. 

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy. 

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car. 

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home. 

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too. 

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure. 

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage. 

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire. 

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park. 

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged. 

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit. 

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you. 

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered. 

 “The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside. 

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue. 

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you. 

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy. 

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly. 

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily. 

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him. 

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land. 

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you. 

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck. 

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you. 

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.” 

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?” 

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer. 

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern. 

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing. 

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy. 

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.” 

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops.  “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground.  You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all. 

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each. 

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed. 

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses. 

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored. 

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be. 

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you. 

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings. 

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls. 

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table. 

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad. 

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy. 

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea. 

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex. 

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night. 

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom. 

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air. 

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy. 

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them. 

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist. 

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire. 

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available. 

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood. 

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass. 

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose. 

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night. 

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in. 

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood. 

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!” 

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you. 

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too. 

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him. 

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned. 

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast. 

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf. 

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side. 

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight. 

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face. 

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.” 

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady. 

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.” 

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.” 

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you. 

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again. 

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open. 

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within. 

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder. 

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?” 

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more. 

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips. 

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs. 

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really. 

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.” 

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid. 

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait. 

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive. 

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy.  “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet. 

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen. 

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger. 

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl. 

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions. 

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence. 

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth. 

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!” 

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you. 

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen. 

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head. 

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table. 

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land. 

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly. 

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly. 

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back. 

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over. 

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch. 

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs. 

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees. 

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat. 

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind. 

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last. 

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit. 

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face. 

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm. 

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely. 

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy. 

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears. 

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own.  And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest. 

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having. 

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open.  You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly. 

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared.  Part 2

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Safe and Sound - Joel Miller Imagine

A/N: so this is my first time trying to write for the last of us, so if it isn’t 100% cannon please forgive me 💚

First shot? Leg.

Second shot? Shoulder.

Third shot? Click.

Fourth attempt? Click.

You let out an audible string of curse words as you looked down at the now empty gun in your hand. The clicker was coming at you quickly, your space to escape getting smaller and smaller.

You were out on a patrol trying to clear your head. It was a year to the day since your entire last team, if you could call it that, fell victim to a clicker attack. You were the only one to escape, barely actually making it out alive. You had been on a rotating three man patrol that night and they had managed to take down one of the other guards. Then they had gotten into camp and completely wrecked havoc. When you had gotten wind of what had happened, you had booked it out of there.

You were out on your own outside of the QZ. You had limited supplies and you knew you had to go stock up. You lived in department stores and other abandoned buildings for short spans of time, going through and looting any food or weapons that were left.

A few weeks later you had ran into Joel and Ellie and they had taken you in. Ellie was very trusting of you, and Joel was a lot more hesitant. He was skeptical of you immediately. However, as you started to show your survival skills, he started to warm up slowly. But, now you two were pretty close.

Now you had been with them for multiple months and normally Joel would never let you patrol by yourself. But, tonight, you needed some air. Now, you were caught in a situation. The infected was rapidly advancing on you, the noises and tendrils leading straight towards you. You looked around for something to use to defend yourself, finding absolutely nothing.

You prepared for your fate, your eyes closing as you braced to be taken by the infected. As you stood there, you heard a gun shot go off and you heard the body in front of you thud to the ground. You let out a breath that had been sitting in your lungs as you slowly opened your eyes. Joel was standing in front of you, his rifle smoking from the shot that he had just taken on the infected in front of you. “Are you okay?” His face showed concern as he made his way over to you, his eyes looking you over before he pulled you in close to him.

He was not one to express much emotion; which was something you had began to get used too. But, this was a side of him you had never seen. He was worried about you. You felt your arms wrap around him as you buried your face into him, your eyes squeezing shut. You had come close to dying, too close, and it had you absolutely spooked.

His arms were tight around you as he pulled away, his face close to yours now. You were looking into his eyes, his lips pressing against yours. You kissed him back, falling into the moment before you started to hear grunts behind you. You pulled away, knowing that there were infected heading your way. “We have to go.” He nodded and the two of you headed back towards Ellie, anxious to check and make sure she was okay.

“Well you guys took forever.” Her all too familiar sass was a welcome sound as you made it back to her, your arms wrapping around you as Ellie shot Joel a look. He just chuckled and shrugged as he looked between the two of you. “She must like you for some reason.” He teased before he urged her to get her stuff together once you stopped hugging her.

As you watched Ellie start to get her bag together, Joel put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. He kept you against his side as you caught a weird look from Ellie. “Are you two like.. together?” She tried not to gag as the words left her lips. You just looked up at Joel who smiled at Ellie, telling her to mind her business. “Come on. We gotta get going unless you want to be fungus food.”

You all agreed and started your trek to your next place to rest for the night, the walk silent as Joel made sure to keep you close. He had almost lost you once, he didn’t want to go through that again.

[saleintothe90s]

Daily press, September 28, 1989

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 35 years ago people in South Carolina were still reeling from Hurricane Hugo. Very strange how people could just go to someone's house to donate (see left column) back then.

Imagine getting ready to get on a plane to London when you collapse at the airport.

I'd never heard of the comic Outland, it was a spinoff of Bloom County that ran only on Sundays. Here is Mortimer Mouse:

(eBay seller Erickson Comics and Paper)

I found this Sunday night, and then Monday night, I find out that Pete Rose died! VHS Tapes Old newspapers are magic.

Even in 1989, the clothes in these A&N ads already looked outdated. It was always like this with them. I could pull up a newspaper from 1994, and the clothes would look like the clothes people wore in ... 1989.

ooh, we have a Phar-Mor alert. We were not a Phar-Mor family, we did not visit the mythical store known as Phar-Mor. My mom said that area was too crowded. It was like a giant variety store with a pharmacy, right?

I was nosy, and looks like they broke up in 2001. So the Yorks were trying to gain "custody" of their embryo from a lab in Norfolk (they lived in California). I'm not sure if the couple were successful at having children though.

Oh no! It's our boy David Merritt! We remember him from the August 1, 1993 newspaper entry. Remember, his restaurant didn't open until 1992, and was hyping that it was going to open on April 7, 1990.

These ads are magnificent.

Old Mill? I gotta say it:

For you dead mall fans out there, both Outlets Ltd and Great American Outlet Mall are long gone.

I never thought that My Two Dads needed one censor, let alone two. I gotta watch My Two Dads, it has Paul Reiser and Dana from Step by Step! I love that podcast she has with Christine Lakin about Step by Step.

Speaking of censorship, STOPLESS GIRLS. I looked up the address, and looks like it was torn down.

No Cathy in this strip, but there are Fax jokes. Remember faxing in your lunch order? Onion rolls seem so old skool, I feel like I remember seeing them at the bakery at the grocery store when I was a real little kid, and then never again. Is it a regional thing? Do people not eat onion rolls in Hampton Roads anymore?

Garfield was upsetting that day.

OH I almost forgot. Speaking of upsetting:

A man on his bike was hit by a car down the street from the newspaper offices. So just you know, walk down the street and take a photo of it and put it on the front page of the local section. I hope Allen was ok. The McDonalds where it happened is long gone, but the building remains.

/edit/

So the day I went to publish this, I had to take the long way home from Suffolk, and I drove by this intersection on my way to the James River Bridge. Old newspapers ARE magic.

I know we make jokes about certain people putting raisins in potato salad, but what about raisins in your chicken.

I love the names of these raisin recipes! Silk Stockings?! Model T?! I would try a lil bite of each of these.

I can't remember where I mentioned this place, but it amuses me SO MUCH that back in the day you could go to Coliseum Mall and buy steaks.

wait. Bryers made jelly? I wonder if that's the same fruit that was in that yogurt they used to make that was so good. Breyers ice cream is soo bad now.

!! This was my friend Paul's mom! I about flipped when I saw this. This is exactly how five year old me remembers her. She would give me rides to school sometimes in her old jeep and would pick my mom up for room mothers.

Finally, this Eastern Airlines ad is beautiful. They had about a year and a half left, closed in 1991.

I completely forgot to post for September, I got 🦠 at the end of August that went into the first week of September, then I had to get ready for the Norfolk Zine fest, then then this weekend? Is Richmond Zine fest. Don't forget, my zines are available on my Etsy shop.

And there's a new design over at my TeePublic.

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[outer-edges]

i have a small offering for fans of the spiderman!ellie au. here is 1.6k words of completely unedited fic wherein which joel finally discovers ellie's secret identity.

feat. contrived grocery store displays and an overzealous employee and kiddo rep and really beating the dead 'joel is reluctant to care about ellie' horse in the beginning there.

(fic under the cut. if i ever get around to reading thru + editing this it'll go up on ao3. until then, it will live here)

Joel thought he was done buying snacks he’d never eat just because he had a kid to feed. He thought he was done with the pudding cups and the gushers and the uncrustables. 

He looks down at his cart and sighs. It’s stuffed full of all the snacks Spiderwoman wants, alongside multiple tubes of arnica, bandages, frozen peas, neosporin, and everything else he needs to keep the first aid kit stocked. 

Apparently, it’s never over. 

This is something he’s come to accept about his life. He cares about Spiderwoman. Too much for a kid who’s not his, especially considering he’s never even seen her face. But after two months of this shit, he’s accepted it. He knows he probably doesn’t mean nearly as much to her as she means to him—he’s got to assume she’s got other people in her life, a kid with that much love and warmth to her, it would kill him to think she didn’t—but he’s accepted that too. 

It’s okay that he’s now being forced to check out the old fashioned way—cart too full for the express checkout he typically utilizes—but the woman in front of him had to buy up half the store, it seems. It feels like he’s been in this line forever. That’s okay too. 

“Oh, come on, I didn’t break shit!” a girl argues, and his gaze is drawn to the front of the store.

There’s a haughty looking asshole kid there—probably no older than fourteen or fifteen—and she looks downright intimidating despite her small stature. There’s a bit of a feral edge to her as she argues with the store employee who’s probably a good foot taller than she is. It could just be his imagination, but there’s something familiar about the girl. 

“I saw you, kid,” the employee argues back. “You took down the whole display! Store policy is clear: you break it, you buy it!” 

“It’s not my fault your stupid employees don’t know how to stack things,” she fires back. Then, she holds up her plastic bag with a receipt in hand. “This is what I wanted. This is what I paid for. Alright, dude, so just let me go.” 

And then it clicks. For some reason, hearing the girl say ‘dude’ with such an empathetic tone made it click. This ain’t just any asshole kid. It's his asshole kid. 

Joel quickly gets out of line and butts in on the conversation. “Excuse me, sir. I couldn’t help but overhear—“

The kid—Spiderwoman, Jesus fucking Christ, she’s even younger than he thought she was—looks up at him. Her deep brown eyes are blown wide with surprise and confusion. She tries to smother it quickly, but her face is so goddamn expressive.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Joel finishes, playing a bit dumb as he looks between Spiderwoman and the store clerk. 

“It’s okay, sir, this is not your problem,” the employee puts on his best customer service voice and tries to wave Joel away. 

“I reckon it might be,” he says. “I know the kid. She’s—uh—she’s my intern. Ain’t that right?” 

Spiderwoman blinks up at him for a moment before vigorously nodding. “Yep, that’s right. He’s a very important contractor. And I’m his intern. His unpaid intern.” 

“Right,” Joel nods, hoping he doesn’t make too much of a face at her comment. “So, I ask again, what seems to be the problem?” 

The employee looks between him and Spiderwoman, clearly not really convinced of their relationship, but he clearly doesn’t care. He’s also just some kid, probably no older than twenty five, and Joel reckons this whole thing is just some corporate policy he’s gotta enforce. 

After a beat, the employee just sighs and shakes his head a bit. “Your intern ruined an entire batch of fresh baked donuts.” 

Joel snorts and rolls his eyes a bit, though he tone comes across more affectionately empathetic than he intends. “Of course she did. What did you do this time, kiddo?” 

The nickname slips past his lips on accident. Words he hasn’t uttered in two decades. Certainly words he’s never used for Spiderwoman before. But in his care to not use any of the spider based nicknames for her, the pet name slipped through. 

Spiderwoman clearly notices, eyebrows quirking up just a fraction. Still, she takes it in stride. “They put the blueberry donuts on the bottom, so I went to go grab them, and my—uh—the boxes stuck together, and you know how that goes. Just….vwoop. They all tumbled like Jenga.” 

Ah. Joel nods in understanding. He’s seen her accidentally stick to enough things to know what really happened. Can’t really explain that one to a store clerk. 

“That Jenga tower was the fresh baked batch that just came out of the oven this morning,” the employee says. 

“Alright, look,” Joel starts, “How much did that display cost?” 

“One twenty.”

Joel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Goddamn, one twenty? For donuts?”

“It was over a dozen boxes your intern destroyed.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. She’s goddamn lucky he just landed a big contract with a builder out in the suburbs. Forking over one hundred twenty dollars for some fucking donuts. That’s on top of the added groceries and other assorted goods he’s been buying for her.

“Just add it to my bill,” Joel sighs. “And let her take whatever donuts you can salvage. Alright?”

Spiderwoman’s eyes go wide. “Okay, Joel, seriously. You don’t have to do that—” “You ain’t got the money, and clearly someone’s gotta pay the man,” he shoots back. 

That’s not what he wants to say. What he wants to say is of course I’m gonna help you outta this bind, kiddo. What the fuck else am I here for? 

But that might be a little too real for the both of them. They’ve been dancing around this odd little friendship they’ve struck up, smuggling anything resembling feelings behind innocuous little phrases and actions. 

She seems to get what he means regardless, and she just nods. “Okay.” 

——

After Joel works out the details with the store clerk, Spiderwoman wordlessly waits by his side as he buys his groceries—and hers too—with a donut box in her arms. They were able to save just under a dozen donuts from the ruined display. They were the ones that spilled all over the table and not the floor. It’s probably ain’t completely sanitary to eat them, but Joel isn’t going to pay over a hundred bucks for donuts and not see a single one of them. 

He’s surprised Spiderwoman waits around for him, if he’s being honest. It’s not that he expected her to ditch, necessarily, but it’s two o’clock on a Monday afternoon. She should be in school, or something. 

“So,” Spiderwoman starts once they walk out of the grocery store. 

(And, god, it’s weird to keep thinking of her as Spiderwoman when he’s looking at that cherubic little face of hers. She’s got these full cheeks and expressive eyes and inklings of acne. She looks every bit of the teenager she is.) 

Joel looks at her. “What?” 

“How’d you know it was me?” she asks. 

“Who says I know you?” he says quickly. “Am I supposed to know who you are? You some kind of celebrity’s daughter or some shit?” 

“Joel, c’mon, I’m being serious,” Spiderwoman has to jog a little bit to keep up with his brisk pace, and because she’s almost a foot shorter than him. “What tipped it off?”

He looks down at her as they pull up to his truck, and he sighs. “You wanna know what it was? It was that voice of yours. I got it in my ear all night, seven days a week. ‘Course I’m gonna recognize it”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” 

Joel nods a bit. Something akin to an awkward silence falls over them as Spiderwoman helps him load the groceries back into his truck. There really shouldn’t be any awkward silence. They have spent far too much time together, most of it in some kind of silence or another, to feel uncomfortable around each other. Shit, they spend most nights on the phone for hours at a time. 

It’s just…

They’ve never done anything like this. In the daylight. Without the mask separating them. He supposes she’s been seeing his face his whole time, but he hasn’t ever seen her. Shit, he doesn’t even know her name.

Joel watches her in the rearview mirror as she returns the cart, and she jogs back to his truck without looking both ways as she crosses the parking lot. For a second, a once dormant instinct crackles back to life, and he wants to tell her to look before just darting across the parking lot like that. Then, he remembers that psychic sense of hers, and he figures she’s probably fine. 

He still wants to tell her anyway. 

“I think it’s going to rain later,” Spiderwoman comments as she climbs back into the car. As if this is normal. 

In a way, it kind of is. 

“What is your name?” Joel asks. 

He can’t keep thinking of her as Spiderwoman. He can’t. And it’s stupid to keep acting like she isn’t already completely ingratiate into his life. This whole dancing around her identity thing was an ill conceived attempt to keep up a wall he already smashed down. 

“What happened to keeping our histories to ourselves?” 

Joel gives her a deadpan. “Kiddo, I think we’re way past that point.” 

“Oh, I know,” she nods. “I just wasn’t sure if you were ever going to admit it. My name’s Ellie.” 

“Ellie,” he repeats, mulling it over. Good name. “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Joel.” 

“I know, man.” 

[trueshredguitar]

i gotta start being tumblrs first financial influencer cos this shits actually so fun. penny stocks, hysas, credit cards are easy as hell

plus if u git gud and a) build your credit up well enough and b) pick the right cards, (almost) everything in your life gets 2% cheaper at minimum, and stuff like restaurants and groceries r usually 5% cheaper if you can finagle the right cards

and sometimes cards will have random bonuses so you can have free checked bags or complete overdraft protection or store cards give you 12-month financing with 0% interest or cheaper concert tickets and random coupons for subscriptions or semi-expensive brands 🤷‍♀️

[sweettjrose]

Detective Mickey Pilot P.2

Hello everyone,

I finally finished part two. I think based on the pattern of these two parts, I may try and make this a weekly thing. Though I think there should be at least 3 more parts left (But I expect that to change as I work on it)

Again I am so thankful for your support as I mostly just try to get something I've been thinking about out of my head. If you are new, this is a second part of what is my idea for a pilot of a Detective Mickey show. You can find more information in part 1, which I will be linking to.

Without further ado, here is part 2. (Ha that rhymed)

Previous Part: X

Next Part: X

Improved Version: X

Mickey arrives at the address with no issue. Brimming with excitement about what this could all lead to. He looks up at the sign that reads “Louise’s Pawn Shop”. It is a little off kilter, and actually falls to the ground immediately. But Mickey still manages to retain a smile before entering in. The place seems to be a bit of a mess at first glance, but is actually somewhat organized the more you look. Despite being open, Mickey doesn’t see anyone prompting him to call. He instantly gets hounded by a small but feisty poodle woman asking him many questions about whether he is a ghost, what he is doing here, and if he is here to steal. Mickey introduces himself and assures her that he is just a journalist here to write a story about the missing camera. At first she is confused as to why a missing camera would be enough for a story, but then realizes that you gotta start somewhere and any attention is better than none. She explains that she is Louise, the proud owner of this store. She is one of the best pawn shop owners around, has a perfect record of everything in her store with the best security system found anywhere within the country. She is very thorough with her inventory checks and knows every single item that has left and entered her store and for 50 long years she has never suffered from a single theft… That is until yesterday. 

She points to an empty area in one of the glass cases and remarks that there used to be a camera there, a “Little Korker V39”, but when she came in this morning and checked the stock it was completely missing. It has been sitting there for weeks, but just randomly disappeared all of the sudden. Mickey takes some pictures of the area with the colorful boxy camera around his neck and starts to ask questions. She doesn’t take too kindly to any questions about her misplacing it or forgetting about selling it as she claims that despite her age she is still as spritely as ever. But when Mickey asks questions about anything else missing, she notes that only that camera is gone. As he looks around for clues, he asks if she noticed anything odd in the store such as any proof of theft. Louise remarks that is what makes this “theft” odd. Nothing is out of place and there are no signs of anyone or anything getting in or out. There aren’t even signs about her security system going off. In fact even when she checked the security cameras. The Little Korker was there and then gone in the next second, therefore there must be a ghost behind this. Mickey, also struggling to find anything of note, immediately perks up on the mention of security cameras and tries to ask about them. Unfortunately the poodle lady appears to be on a rant about who the ghost might be, wondering if it was her 2nd ex husband Robert who was always jealous of her business acumen. Mickey does manage to get her attention and she takes him to a small tv in her office and shows the recording of the night. 

Just as she said the camera appears in the glass case, but then instantly disappears. Louise again goes on about how this must be a ghost as there is no other possible explanation. Mickey however notices that there is a very difficult to see slight reflection in the glass that appears to be reflecting a clock on the wall. He asks to rewind the footage and when focusing on the clock he notices that as the camera disappears that clock also jumps about 10 minutes. He points this out trying his best to take a picture with his trusty camera and write down the observation. He notes that it appears whoever did it must have altered the footage somehow. She remarks that it is impossible since the recording is done through the security system, which again is one of the best in the country. Mickey asks to see it and they head over to what appears to be a large panel filled with a ton of blinking lights, switches, and knobs. Mickey's face drops as he realizes that he has absolutely no frame of reference to understand this. Seeing the confusion on his face the lady shows him an app on his phone which is much easier to understand. She shows how the system usually tells her if the security is affected in any way even being turned off. But oddly she has absolutely no notices about anything odd last night. 

Mickey takes note of this and remarks that whoever is behind this, must be very crafty to find a way to bypass this. As he continues to write notes, someone comes into the door ringing the bell. Louise appears to be ready to ambush the person just as she did to Mickey before, but then stopped when she recognized the face and greeted the large pelican woman calling her Susan. Susan very cheerfully greets the other woman and asks if she is ready to get some lunch. Susan then notices the young mouse writing away as well as the freaked out expression on Louise. After inquiring on what is going on, Louise and Mickey fill her in on the situation. She seems a bit surprised at the news, and a little confused on why this would warrant a news article, but I guess everyone starts somewhere. She points out that she happens to have a couple of the Little Korker Cameras at her own pawn store across the street and maybe Louise could use one as a replacement, sort of as a thank you for all the help she provided over the years. She also notices the camera around Mickey’s neck and points it out as a nice looking Polarbearoid. Mickey thanks her and mentions that it was his very first camera and he named it Ol’ Reliable. He bought it with his own allowance and has taken care of it ever since. He also asks to join as maybe investigating the cameras can bring a clue to why this one was stolen. Susan agrees and they head off to her store, debating with Louise on whether ghosts are real. 

They enter what appears to be the storage room of Susan’s store as she starts to go through boxes. She brings out a couple of cameras, some of them Little Korkers, but Louise remarks that she needs the V39 as that was the specific one she lost. Susan responds that she actually has two of those, but as she goes to look where she put them… She finds two empty spots where the cameras should be. The three are shocked, and Mickey instantly starts taking pictures and looking around for any clues. Susan panics and starts looking through her other boxes seeing what else might have been stolen, as Louise pesters her about any ghosts named Robert she may know. Eventually they realize that just the two cameras have been taken with again no traces of theft. Mickey inquires about the last time she has seen the cameras and Susan remarks she does monthly storage checks and they were there earlier this month, which was about a week ago. As she gets chided for such a lax storage check policy by the small poodle woman, Mickey asks her about her security system or any cameras. Susan remarks that she does have cameras aiming towards the doors, not at any of the boxes, and her system is a downgraded version of the one Louise has. As she gets chided again for such a lackluster security system, they head over to look over the footage of the doors, unfortunately however, there doesn’t seem to be anything that stands out despite rewatching it over and over again. 

Mickey remarks that it is quite odd that multiple of the same exact camera, down to the specific version, is missing, and that it appears that nothing else gets taken. He also notes that it is odd that there are absolutely no traces left and that their security systems don’t pick up anything. Perhaps there is a lot more to this case, than just a simple misplacement. Though he does feel bad for the ladies for losing their stock, he can’t help but feel a bit of excitement knowing that this could make a great story. And maybe he can help them get their cameras back. He asks them if they are aware of anyone else who may also have these cameras. The ladies remark that he could try other pawn shops around town, though that may take a while as there are quite a lot in Mouseton. After a pause Susan remarks that there was a weirdo who bought a lot of her cheaper cameras about a couple days ago, who claimed it was going to make him rich. Mickey asks who this person is and Susan shows a social media account for an account called “ The Camera King 📷👑” (@HHExpertOnAll). As Mickey looks through the account, which is currently filled with pictures of cameras with pretty detailed though a bit exaggerated descriptions, he realizes that he may know who this weirdo is. He thanks the ladies and assures them that he will find the thief, before bolting off. The ladies wave back though admit they are a bit confused on what he can do and should probably cut their losses.

On his way to his friend’s house, Mickey decides to stop at a place to get lunch and to continue to scroll through the account to read more about the Little Korker cameras. He starts to read through the explanation, but he is interrupted by his phone ringing. It’s the Editor in Chief. He nervously  answers the call only to get a barrage of shouts demanding to know where he is. Mickey tries to respond that he is on a new story, and that he sent multiple emails and voicemails about it, also adding how the case is really picking up. Only to be met with a barrage of laughter which then turns into anger. The voice over the phone tells him that he doesn’t know what kind of joke Mickey is trying to tell, but that if he is not in his office within the next hour, he will be fired. Defeated, Mickey packs up his lunch and starts to head over to his car. For a moment Mickey feels an urge to call back to argue why he should be allowed to continue this case, but as his finger grazes over the call button. He decides against it and gets in his car.

He enters the Mouseton Argus building, ignoring the usual glares, and sulks over to his “desk”. He tries to get started on his “work” but struggles as he can only think about the case. He is red hot on the trail and doesn’t want to risk missing anything. But he also doesn’t want to lose this job. He doesn’t even know why they want him here so badly, since they give him boring work and clearly don’t like him. If only there was a way to have them think he was here, so he can continue the case and can complete the work at home at a later time. As he looks at what appears to be a stack of paper plates next to an assortment of kitchen items, some pens, some tape, and some white balloons, an idea pops into his head. A worker stops by his desk annoyed asking what appears to be Mickey “what’cha starin’ at”. Only for the worker to leave and it is revealed that he was not talking to Mickey, but rather an assortment of paper plates, balloons, and other items that are humorously taped and colored to look like Mickey. In the window we can see Mickey getting into a ride share car (Like Uber) to head off to his next destination. 

Mickey is then dropped off at an old but sturdy apartment building and rushes up to one of the doors. Mickey knocks his usual knock, but is surprised as nothing seems to happen. He tries knocking again. But again hears nothing. Mickey decides to call instead, mentioning that he is at his door. All of the sudden the door swings open revealing a smiling horse with a bat in his hands.  It is of course Mickey’s dear though mischievous friend Horace Horsecollar. The horse gleefully chirps that he is happy to see it is actually Mickey and lets him in. Mickey tries to ask why he is on edge noticing the bat, but is stopped as Horace sweeps him up to take him to another room. The room is covered in boxes. Inside the boxes there are multitudes of different cameras all in different sizes, colors, and shapes. 

Horace immediately delves into a long explanation about how he finally found his passion. Mickey brings the “silkworm farm” that Horace was so sure was going to be his big money maker. Only for Horace to add that it didn’t work out as planned as what he thought were silkworm cocoons, were actually spider nests. But assures this time he has figured it all out. He has decided to become a camera expert and to go viral on social media by getting people educated and interested in camera history and nostalgia. Mickey is a bit surprised by the lack of financial incentive, until Horace adds that once people get really into cameras, he will sell them all at a high price and become extremely rich. There it is. Mickey however is a bit appreciative of this new hobby, since Horace tends to be pretty thorough in whatever new thing he gets into and maybe he can help with the stolen cameras. Oh yeah, stolen cameras. Mickey then starts to explain that he is writing a story about some missing cameras from a pawn shop. Horace is at first a bit confused on why that would be good enough for a story, but I guess everyone got to start somewhere. A bit annoyed, Mickey explains that he needs help from Horace as he was hoping if he could give any information he has on the Little Korker V39 cameras. Horace proudly states that he has 4 of those and would have no issue showing Mickey. He heads over and picks up a box showing it to Mickey… Only for the box to be empty. Mickey notes that he doesn’t see any cameras. Horace mentions pretty bluntly that it is because he was robbed… HE WAS ROBBED. Horace immediately starts to panic, before Mickey calms him down. Mickey mentions that people all around town have been robbed of these specific cameras and asks if Horace has any information on these cameras and why.

Horace calms down and thinks for a bit, looks at his phone, and then recalls that the Little Korker cameras were popular but cheap cameras from around the 80’s to the 00’s. Once phones started to come with cameras, they started to lose popularity and only really have value for nostalgia or hardcore collectors. He even points out that the company that made them also makes the same one Mickey currently has. In fact, noticing the camera he asks if Mickey is willing to sell it given the great condition, but Mickey takes it off and reminds him that Ol’ Reliable is special to him and he would never sell it plus they need to focus on the case at hand. Apologizing and returning to the original topic, Horace is confused as to why anyone would steal it as these cameras aren’t really that expensive or too valuable, or rather not yet he adds. Mickey takes note of all of this and confirms that there is definitely some kind of thief going around stealing these cameras. He ponders about what to do next and how he wishes he had one of the cameras now. Horace then brightens up and rushes out of the room, coming back with a box. He opens it revealing a Little Korker V39. Surprised, Mickey exclaims how he managed to still have one, to which Horace answers that he just recently bought it online to add to his collection, and it came after he got robbed.

Excited Mickey starts to examine the camera, but fails to see anything that really stands out. If anything, it seems of a much lower quality than his camera. He then starts formulating a plan to try and use the camera as bait to capture the thief. Before noticing the more hesitant expression on Horace. Mickey asks if it is possible for him to borrow the camera to catch the thief. But Horace worries that this is his last camera of that kind and now that there is a thief going around stealing them, they might be all gone. Mickey sighs and offers to pay to loan the camera off of him so if the camera does end up missing or broken, Horace will still have been compensated for it. This appears to calm Horace nerves somewhat and he agrees. Adding on that this case actually makes him excited to learn more about these cameras and he’ll alert Mickey if he finds anything that stands out. I mean perhaps he will find something that will make these cameras even more valuable to sell. Mickey nods and heads off to try his new plan.

We now cut to outside at night at what appears to be an alleyway between a single story and a double story building. Mickey appears to be finishing tying something and places the camera onto a trash can. He looks at his phone which shows a post he just recently made about finding a camera in this alleyway and leaving it behind in hopes that the “owner” will come by and find it. Surely enough anyone who will try and pick it up would likely be the thief, the thief probably learned about the cameras Horace had from his social media and with a reshare from Horace, they’ll learn about this. However, this time though there is a trap, one he learned as a Junior Woodchuck, waiting to catch them. Then Mickey will be prepared to question them, take pictures, and call the police… Wait, take pictures… Mickey feels around and realizes that he forgot his Ol’ Reliable at Horace’s place. Oh well I guess phone pictures will have to be good enough, though he never really liked using them. 

As he finishes his trap he climbs the fixed ladder next to the single story building and ends up on the top of the roof. He finds a good spot that will allow him to see the camera and the trap easily as well as be able to drop down quickly. The spot also allows him to hide in case some wandering eyes happen to look up. He could feel the excitement bubbling within him as he thought about what a great story this would be and how he could even help some old and new friends out. But he needs to focus, this is his big chance and he doesn’t want to blow it. He sits there focused on the camera and the trap for what appears to be a couple of hours. A little tired, but determined to not mess up. He is shaken as some thunder rumbles in the background. Crap, he hopes that there won’t be a thunderstorm, he could have sworn that the chance for one was low tonight. Maybe it will phase out. He focuses his attention back onto the camera, until he feels something touching the tip of his ear, ugh mosquitos. He swats at it and continues to focus. He feels another touch though this time more of a pinch on his ear. He swats at it again and curses the darned bugs. He can’t get distracted. This time he feels more of a tug and instinctively turns around angrily asking what is going on. And in that very second a lump forms in his throat. His heart instantly drops. The color drains from his face. As we pan out we see that the mouse is not alone this night on the roof, as he is met face to face with a pair of cold emotionless white eyes.

[slashingdisneypasta]

CW: mentions of abuse

Hostage: *counting out the bootleg beer in the crates*

Greasy: *slithering up to her* Busy chica? Chu know, I'm the second-in-command.

Hostage: Is that so?

Greasy: The Boss trusts me with all the important work while he's gone.

Hostage: How interesting.

Greasy: ...I get to wield a real gun, not a cartoon one, like a real pistolero, impressive, no?

Hostage: I guess.

Greasy: *scowls and picks up one of the beers to take a sip*

Wheezy: *coming around the corner coughing* Hey, Boss says no drinkin' the stash!

Greasy: Let a heartbroken man drink in peace, fumador.

Smartass: Alright ya mugs, how's the stock coming?

Stupid: Duh this is the last shipment, Boss. Then we lock up the garage till the morning. Just like you said! Did I get it right?

Hostage: *balancing another crate in her grip and moving tentatively to store it*

Smartass: Has she been at dis all night?

Greasy: She's determined, huh Boss?

Smartass: She's slow. You never get this kind'a problem when you nap toons to do this work.

Hostage: *exhausted turns to see Smartass and picks up her pace*

Smartass: Move it or lose it kid, we're on a tight schedule.

Hostage: yessir

Smartass: How many crates you shifted already?

Hostage: 18

Smartass: *stares behind her at the loaded garage* And it took you dis long. I gotta be honest sweetheart, I'm disappointed. I thought you wanted to walk free.

Hostage: ...

Smartass: *clicks fingers* C'mon answer me!

Hostage: I'll do the job...then you let me go home. That was the deal. So just let me work. I'm not expecting a rescue party any time soon.

Smartass: *straightens jacket awkwardly* Good...cuz ain't nobody coming! *turns to the weasels as if to say "Fix this!"*

Greasy, Wheezy, Psycho and Stupid: *shuffle away awkwardly*

Smartass: *sniffs* So...youse livin' alone?

Hostage: What do you expect me to say to that?

Smartass: I'm sayin' it sounds like the same old story: ditzy dame, rents an apartment, bozo of a landlord poundin' on ya door 'rebrandin' rent, no one to toin to. Dat's gotta be a lot on ya shoulders. Ever think'a doin' him in?

Hostage: I should say not!

Smartass: You think he'd be missed? Uh-uh. He's anutha parasite and youse his willin' host. Know what we do wit' parasites in the wild? We eat em. Or we give em to Psycho to eat.

Hostage: Why do you care what my landlord is up to?

Smartass: Because while the rest of those mugs ain't a 'receptive' I noticed them poiple bruises on ya neck. Which none of us laid a finger on.

Hostage: ...

Smartass: So....he hit ya?

Hostage: *hands shake and she steps away from the crates*

Smartass: I thought so. *pulls her sleeve down*

Hostage: Wait, where are you taking me?

Smartass: The ransom mission is off, we's droppin' you off at a hotel.

Hostage: ...What are you going to do?

Smartass: Don't worry ya head, we got it all covered. No-gooder does his thing, we go afta him. Trust me, we do this all the time.

Ahh! Here are my favourite bits XD:

Hostage being so unimpressed with Greasy's showing off XDD Like dude, this is not the time to get romantic. Pull yourself together.

Greasy: Let a heartbroken man drink in peace, fumador. ( Oh Greasy you overdramatic freak 🤦‍♀️ XDDD )

Someone validate Stupid's good work, please! 😤 He did so good!

'Move it or lose it, kid' 'Yessir'

-Ever think'a doin' him in?'- oh my god I thought it read 'ever thinka doin him?' at first and I was so scandalised XDD Like, Smartass!! Sir! My man, that is completely out of line- 😂😂

And of course, him at the end <3

Thank you so much for sending this in! Sorry it took a while ^^