#fitty men

[jenarosscity]

[estobrotvpodcast]

[uglygirlpretendingtobepretty]

[muddypolitics]

[caucaxican]

this is what happens when @misteryada puts ideas into my head

[doom-ocean]

[banglatown]

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[landoslvr]

MRS CHRIS | c. dixon

summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs chris'. [social media AU.]

pairing: fem!reader x chris dixon (chrismd)

faceclaim: eva meloche

notes: first piece for mrs chris out of the wag universe. eva is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs chris, hopefully you like it!

liked by taliamar, faithlouisak and 4,398 others

yourinstagram charity match this week, plus some other fun tidbits

view all 129 comments

user that outfit 🤩

user I knew she was a rhode girly 💅

taliamar soooo pretty 🤍🤍🤍

stephan_tries the only person who is safe from my slander in the commentary box

yourinstagram it's because without me you would've been cancelled a loooooong time ago

stephan_tries best pr manager in the biz

user my idol tbh

user you radiate good energy

chrismd10 another day, another slay 😚

yourinstagram please never speak again

liked by yourinstagram, wroetoshaw and 180,837 others

chrismd10 there's norway this is my job

view all 398 comments

faithlouisak my daughter's gonna see that picture one day

user get y/n on it now!!!

user creating more work for y/n by posting ethan's ass pics

user couple goals 😩💅

user when he makes her job harder 🤩🤩🤩

user chris hitting the glow-up hard 🤤

user y/n knew what his potential was 🤍

user they started dating and he just got hotter??

user that harry shot was lethal 🫣

user sick video 👍🏽

yourinstagram why must you do this to me? do you hate me?

behzinga I'm sorry

yourinstagram I'm letting you go

chrismd10 sorry mate

yourinstagram you're next md

liked by miniminter, chrismd10 and 4,982 others

yourinstagram norway for the week <3 at shoots and scrubbing ass pics from the internet 🫶🏼

view all 187 comments

user she's just so pretty 🫠

chrismd10 good luck with that 🫣

yourinstagram you can explain to olive why her dad's bum is all over the internet one day christopher

faithlouisak aunty y/n would NEVER do that to her beloved neice

yourinstagram my literal baby girl 😭

user y/n drinking wine to ignore her boyfriend and other clients being stupid

user literally every person in the new video, apart from danny, is a part of y/n's client base

user how does she do this shit

user girl has managed to stop HARRY LEWIS from getting cancelled, I'm convinced she can do anything

liked by georgeclarkeey, freyanightingale and 5,019 others

yourinstagram mixing work with pleasure apparently..

view all 213 comments

user EAT HIM UP Y/N

user in the words arthur television: she gagged him

calfreezy send kart 21 down the river

user chris on a ladder is so funny to me 😭

maxbalegde sexy pr lady, come over right NOW, you look too good to not be at my place of residence

yourinstagram be right there xx

user casual london fashion week pic on the 2nd slide x

yourinstagram humble bragging 😩

user I want her life 😭😭

user ikr literally hanging out with all your friends because you manage their image? sign me up

yourinstagram rlly easy guys, just date a famous youtuber and have a media and communications degree xxxx just so easy!!

chrismd10 never forget where you came from.. me

yourinstagram okay mr arsenal bedsheets x

liked by chrismd10, willne and 5,193 others

yourinstagram I got my Greece trip- I mean video... and got to pick which extras to bring along......

view all 287 comments

user quick everyone act shocked that chris is there

user oh my gosh.. no way, chris? I am so surprised

yourinstagram I appreciate the effort guys 🥲

user she just is that bitch 😭

user you know she's got every single one of those men wrapped around her finger

arthurtv i wasn't one of the chosen ones 💔

yourinstagram because im tired of you and chris sharing a bed and me sleeping on the hotel couch

chrismd10 foiled again arthur

calfreezy send me this pic you traitor

user pr manager/photographer

yourinstagram I need a pay rise

chrismd10 thanks for stowing me away in your suitcase xx

user she's mothering I love it

user so hot

user major fitty ❤️‍🔥🤩

taliamar so true

liked by yourinstagram, freyanightingale and 178,399 others

chrismd10 constantly reminding me who she is in that first photo. happiest of birthdays to my pr manager and nothing else!

view all 412 comments

user happy birthday y/n the pr manager!!

user a y/n photo dump is my favourite kind!!

user spoil us chris!!

wroetoshaw happy birthday y/n!

faithlouisak my wife's birthday 🤩

ksi happy birthday to the goat

user chris and y/n be sappy challenge

callux the queen! happy birthday!!

vikkstagram happy birthday mrs chris!! thanks for everything

yourinstagram thank your lucky stars you posted all nice pictures or I would've deleted your youtube channel xxxx

user Y/N PLEASE 😭

[writer-by-the-sea]

Um, hi! I'm new and I really like your works!

I want to make a request for Haley and Penny (separate) if that's okay with you!

Scenario: how would they react when they find out that their s/o, the farmer, used to be a member of the Mafia? A hitman to be exact, but they've changed and left that life behind.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a full on headcanon before, but I figured why not! 

Instead of doing mini fics for only two characters, I am going to attempt to write these thoughts into a slightly coherent but readable mess. WARNING: These do not all end happily. Some are very heavy angst and they break up with you.

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

“There’s… something I need to tell you,” the farmer began, rubbing the back of their neck while they looked away from the person in front of them. Someone that they’ve come to love, to trust enough to finally open up to, and someone who might understand.”Before moving to Stardew… I was... Part of a very bad crowd,” they pause and take a deep breath. “Not just a little group of delinquents that spray paint the side of buildings.

“Something.. Far worse. I know that you might view me differently because of this but– I want you to know who I truly am. I never want to lie to you, and while I wanted to keep this secret buried deep inside; I care about you too much to allow you to continue dating me without knowing… 

“I was a hired killer, an assassin, a hitman.” 

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

Alex

“Hey, man, you don’t have to lie to me to look cool,” Alex laughed and gave you a thumbs up. “You’re already really cool in my book.” 

You grimace before saying, “Alex, I’m not lying.” 

“Oh,” he breathes out. A minute passes, the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over. “Ohhh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” you reply. “I understand if you need some space–” 

Alex leaned back into his bed, letting himself land softly on his back. “Gramps has killed a few guys, so I’m not really worried about it.” 

You look down at him and raise a single brow, “Wasn’t that in war though?” 

“It was, but it’s the same thing, isn’t it?” 

“Not.. really.” 

Alex shrugs and sighs, “if you asked him for stories, he would spend the rest of the day telling you every single bloody detail. I’ve heard them all a thousand times.” He sat up, dropping her face to a sneer and pulled his lips back. “During that war,” he began, perfectly mimicking his grandfather. “I killed fitty men! I collected their earlobes and wore them around my neck like a trophy!” 

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Alex. “Okay, that’s a little fucked up actually.” 

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” he answered with a grin. “He likes to tell this story about the time they had to go save some guy–”

“Wait,” you cut him off, gently placing your fingertips against his lips to stop him. “I just.. I want you to know that I love you, and that all of that shit is in the past… but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this.” 

Alex pushed your hands away with his lips, laughing again as he pulled back. “It’s alright, I get it. Just don’t keep anything else from me, okay?” 

You nodded and pulled him into your arms, giving him a good squeeze. “I promise.” 

Alex slid out of your arms and ran to his bedroom door, swinging it open before playfully glaring at you. “As punishment for not telling me in the first place!” He took a really deep breath filling his lungs before shouting “Grandpa! The farmer wants to hear all your war stories!” 

Alex wasn’t scared of you. Afterall, nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the stories he grew up with. He knew his grandpa regretted the choices he made, but sometimes, you have to do cruel things to survive. 

Elliott

Elliott quickly grabbed his wine, downing the glass in one huge gulp before placing it back onto the table. “What you’re telling me,” he whispered, his gaze focused on the empty wine glass. “You’re being truthful? This isn’t a jest?” 

“No,” you answered, scooting your chair closer to his. “Just.. I know you’re in shock right now, but please just give me a chance to explain–”

“This is wonderful news!” Elliott jumped up from his chair, darting to a notebook that lies open with scribbles across the pages. He sprinted back, throwing himself back into the chair as harshly it nearly toppled over with him in it. “Tell me, what does another man’s eyes look like as you choke the life out of him?” 

“W-what?” you stammered, glancing down at the notebook that was now on the table where Elliott held his quill above it, ready to write. “Are you trying to get a confession from me?” 

“Heavens no!” He replied with a laugh, putting his quill down and turning to grab your hands. “My next novel is a murder mystery! I would love to have your feedback.” 

“You’re kidding,” you replied, your mouth hanging open. 

“Not at all, my love!” Elliott smiled so brightly, you would have thought you just told him his book had a million sales; not that you used to kill people for a living. “It truly is destiny that we were to meet!” 

“Do… Are you okay with my past?” 

“Ah,” Elliott nodded, understanding now why you seemed so hesitant with your words. “We all have our demons, don’t we, darling? If I were ever to judge every person I knew by the skeletons in their closet.. Well, life wouldn’t be very fun, now would it?” 

“I’m…” you tried to focus, confusion swirling in your head making everything foggy and hard to follow. “What?” 

Elliott was already back to his notebook, licking the pad of his thumb while he flipped through the pages. “This part here,” he held the book out to you, the page filled with brainstorms and more messy scribbles. “Could you fact check it for me? I honestly don’t know what a man sounds like when he gets stabbed like this. Also, the shoulder would be a good spot for them to survive from a stab, right?” 

You laughed, shaking your head at this ridiculous man. “Well, actually, there’s a main artery that going along the shoulder–” 

Part of you wasn’t surprised that Elliott was excited to discuss bloody, brutal, cold murder with you. Although, the writer did make a point the next day to scold you for keeping the secret from him. He could have finished his novel even sooner, and… he could have told you how much he loves you and would never give you up. 

In fact, he would help you get away with murder. 

Harvey

“No,” Harvey stood abruptly, his knee hitting his kitchen table and nearly knocking his coffee over, the hot liquid jumping out of the mug and onto the table. “Shoot!” he cried as the coffee landed on some of his folders that were spread out. 

You joined him in grabbing napkins, trying to clean the coffee before it caused too much damage. 

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered as he tossed the dirty napkins aside, uncaring of where they would land. “Not you, not my farmer, no…” 

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your emotions. “Harvey–” 

Then he broke before you, a sob ripping through his throat right before he began sobbing. His glasses getting wet and foggy as he let each tear slide down his cheeks. “Not you…” 

“Please, I just–” 

Harvey straightened up, taking a deep breath and forced himself to meet your eyes. “I have dedicated my whole life to helping those who need it. I took an oath to assist any single soul that cries for help. If a patient dies on my table, I have to live with that for the rest of my life. The rest of my life knowing that I couldn’t do enough for them!” 

Your eyes widen, dread filling you as you realize this is the end. “Harvey, please–” 

“Get out,” he growled, his voice deep, dangerous, and oozing with hatred. 

“Let me explain–” 

“For you to come to me, and tell me that you took human lives for your own gain? I don’t need to hear another word,” Harvey took a step towards you, his body tensing, preparing to fight you if he must. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Everything in you wanted to stay, to fight for what you had… 

You left, crying on your way back to the farm, your heart shattered beyond repair. 

Sam

“For real?” Sam's face scrunched in disbelief. “No, you’ve gotta be joking. Ain’t no way the hot farmer killed some dudes.” 

While your hands may have been tough from constantly working in the dirt, Sam could never imagine in a million years that you would kill a fly on the wall, let alone another human being!

“Is it April Fool’s? It is, isn't it?” he joked and nudged you. “Well, you got me–” 

“Sam,” you breathed out in reply, the truth hanging between you. 

“Holy shit,” Sam stood slowly, taking a step back from you. “You’re serious? You’ve actually killed people?” 

“Yes.” 

“Dude…” he ran a hand through his wild hair, not caring how the gel stuck to his fingers. 

He needed more information, but right now, he needed to make one thing clear. 

“Look,” he started and made his way back to you, dropping himself on his mattress next to you. “Like, I’m not gonna dump you over this; but keeping that from me was seriously not cool.” 

“I know,” you mumbled in reply and offered a weak smile. “I just–” 

Sam raised a hand, cutting you off. “No, we’re gonna talk about this later, after we’ve both had some pizza, and maybe a couple… or an entire case of beer. You’re gonna break all this shit down for me, and then we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing like.. Mentally. After doing all that shit.” 

“Mentally?” you asked with a laugh. “What--” 

“Nope,” Sam stood and grabbed your hand. “Pizza first, you asshole. I can’t believe you killed people, so fucking weird.” 

Sam was in it for the long run, and while he viewed you differently (as like, a cold blooded killer what the fuck,) he wasn’t going to give up on you just because of a dark past. 

Sebastian

“I mean, who hasn’t?” 

Your head whips up to stare back at Sebastian, not sure you just hear those words correctly. “Wait–” 

“You think I haven’t killed a man? Why do you think I hide out in the basement coding shit all day instead of living in the city and making a fortune? Be realistic.” 

“Sebastian, I–” 

“No, it’s cool. I really don’t care,” he said with a shrug and went back to typing on his computer. 

“Well, no, wait; Sebastian that’s a lot to drop on someone–” 

“Hey, I wasn’t a fucking hitman though now was I?” 

“I don’t know, were you?!” 

He shrugs again, reaching for an open pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He takes a deep drag and then blows it out slowly. “I’m gonna go get some leftover pumpkin soup, I made it last night, you want some?” 

You just stare back at him, your jaw hanging open. Now you were the one that needed more information! 

But, you supposed that could wait. Pumpkin soup was on the line, afterall. 

Shane

He takes a sip of his soda, savoring the flavor and bubbles before putting his can back down on the kitchen table. 

“So,” he began, forcing himself to sit up straight and meet your eyes. 

“Are you here to kill me then?” 

“What?” 

“Are you.. here, to kill me?” Shane asked again, slowly. 

“No!” you shouted and waved your hands in front of you like a white flag. “You’ve got the wrong idea!” 

“I’m not telling you how I made the chickens blue, you can beat me to the brink of death and I’ll never spill–” 

“Shane, babe, no– well actually how do you–” you stopped speaking as Shane glared at you and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind the chickens, I’m not here to kill you.” 

“To kill Marnie then?” He asks. “To end the competition for milk and eggs? You make me sick,” he spit. 

“No, what? I turn all my milk into cheese to make you Pepper Poppers or Pizza–” 

“Then the eggs!” He declares and stands up, pointing a finger down where you sat. 

“Please, just listen to me,” you stood with him, on the verge of tears knowing that this could be the end–

Shane’s frown twitched, so quick you could almost miss it. 

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. 

“Oh, I see. You came here to kill Willy, with your gaping fish mouth.” 

Any doubt or worries you had dropped instantly. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I found your list of names a few months ago. You really shouldn’t leave that stuff lying around you know?” 

“Yoba,” you sighed in relief and dropped back into your chair, the wood lightly squeezing on the tiled floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You kept your head down, ashamed to have ever tried to hide this from him. 

Shane chuckled and sat back down, “I figured you’d tell me when the time was right.” 

You risked a glance at Shane, “do you hate me for it.” 

“Hate you? Of all people to hate someone for the mistakes they made in their past, you think I’m going to be one of them? I’m a little offended, farmer.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cracked a smile as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with all of the love and support in the world. 

He was right, Shane would never judge you for your past, just as you never judge him for his. The only thing that matters is the kind of person you are moving forward, and that suits him just fine. 

Abigail

The first thing she asks, with a wicked grin and excited eyes, “So, how many people did you kill?” 

While she knows the value of a human life, she could never allow her thoughts to wander towards ‘what if I killed someone?’ She feared she may pursue it herself. 

“What was your weapon of choice?” she would ask next, hardly containing the buzz flowing through her body from the quick high; knowing she was talking to (dating!) a certified badass killer. 

She does view you differently, however. 

Not as an evil person, as you might have expected; but someone strong enough to protect her, someone who told her this knowing that she might turn away from them, someone who loves her enough to put her first. 

The subject is sensitive, and she knows not to tease you too much or ask for too many details; but she does ask for the occasional story – if you’re willing to give it. 

Emily

She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares back at you in horror. “W-what do you m-mean,” she stumbles over her words, her hands now shaking as she lowers them away from her face, trying to steady them as they rest in her lap. “You.. you actually, ki–” she can’t finish the sentence. 

“I did what I had to, to get by. Please understand that I’m not a bad person-” 

“You killed people,” she dropped her head and watched as tears fell into her lap. “You actually killed people…” 

“Emily–” 

“How can I trust you after this?!” She jumped up, still shaking while she paced around her room. “How can I know that you’re not withholding more?!” 

You stood and put your hands on her shoulders, holding her in place, but she refused to meet your eyes. “I swear to you, I will never hide something from you again… if you just give me a chance to prove myself.” 

Emily dropped her head onto your shoulder, softly sobbing and letting her tears drip onto your shirt. “You’re going to tell me everything.” 

“Okay,” you whispered back, your arms moving down to wrap around her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

There would be a lot of trust issues moving forward, and Emily would keep you on a tight leash for a while; but she knew that not everyone was perfect, and while she might not like your past, she loves who you are now. And she’s not willing to give up yet. 

Haley

She looked up from her phone, her brow dropping down and her eyes narrowing, “Ew.” 

You tried not to snort a laugh at her reply, but failed miserably. “That’s all you have to say? Ew?” 

She rolled her eyes at you, “what else am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t kill me, super scary hitman?” 

“Uh,” you looked around you as if you could find the answer hovering in the air. “I’m.. not.. sure, honestly.” 

Another eyeroll. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s worth. I’m still going to love you no matter what dumb shit you’ve done in your past. I mean, did you know that I dyed my hair black once? Also, ew. Total regret.” 

Bewildered, you plopped down beside her, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t care?” 

“Ugh. Of course I care,” she slapped you on the side and finally put her phone aside. “But you obviously regret it, like I did with the black hair, and while our past mistakes may have been huge; it doesn’t dictate who we are today. So, don’t worry about it.” 

“You realize you’re comparing black hair to the murder of a.. Lot of people?” 

“Babe,” she took a deep breath, staring deep into your eyes, begging you to understand… 

“I used a box dye. Tell me a worse crime than that.” 

You laughed together, her crime never coming close to your misdeeds, and she knew it. But after getting to know you, she knew she could continue to trust you just as she always has. 

Leah

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Leah threw her paintbrush at you, hitting you in the chest and leaving a splotch of yellow paint. “Not again!” 

“Again?!” you shouted back in shock. “What do you mean again!?”

“Tell me,” she hissed. “How many, what organization, and why the hell did you make me fall in love with you?!” 

“Leah,” 

“Do. Not. Leah. Me.” Each word spit in your direction. “Answer me.” 

You sighed, “it was a lot of people.. The organization was international and I never really knew who was in charge..” Closing your eyes, just to get away from her angry glare for a moment, you continued, “I never meant to mislead you. I wanted to tell you the truth to see if I even still stood a chance with you.” 

Leah relaxed, shaking her head before finding a place to sit down. “Thanks, for telling me, I guess.” 

Moving to her side, you kneeled next to her, taking her paint stained hands into your own. “Please, just give me a chance to make this up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

“Yeah, well. You did,” she gently pulled her hands away, turning away from you. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can go through this again.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re never fully out of that life, farmer. That past will come back to haunt you one day, and I don’t think I have the strength to endure it.” 

“No, Leah, it’s over, I swear–” 

“Just leave, okay? I have a lot to think about.” 

Dejected, you do as you're told, stopping to say one last thing before you go. “I hope you’ll give me another chance, Leah. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. 

She sniffles and wipes a tear away, “we’ll see.” 

Maru

She begins by tilting her head at you, her eyes scanning you up and down before turning back to her studies. “I know that, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Huh?!” you blurt out, shaking your head. “How–” 

Maru sighed and put her work aside, realizing that they needed to have a full chat about this now, despite her samples calling for her. 

“Once, you mentioned the amount of required poison to kill a person without raising suspicion to require an autopsy.” 

“Okay, but–”

“Another time, when my dad asked if you wanted to go camping one weekend and maybe hunting, you asked if a Heckler & Koch P30L would be an appropriate gun to bring.”

“I’ve never been hunting before!” you defended, weakly. 

“Sweetheart, it’s a handgun. You don’t go hunting with a handgun.” 

“Hang on–”

“Furthermore, you have two bullet wounds that I know of. One on your lower left calf and the other on your upper bicep. You also have obvious scars from being stabbed or sliced and it was most certainly not from a childhood cat.” 

You both stared at one another. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could ever hide anything from her. 

“Does it bother you?” 

“A little,” she admitted with a small shrug. “So long as you don’t go back into that kind of work though, I can get over it. Just don’t ever try to lie to me again, I will always know.” 

Penny

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat jumps so quickly she thinks she might faint.

She would have never expected this of you. 

Going into the mines was one thing, but killing people was a whole other level of insanity. 

It takes her a minute to process what you’ve just told her, her hands twisting in her lap, fearing she’s going to say the wrong thing. 

“Were they all bad people?” she finally asks, lifting her eyes up to meet yours. 

You take a moment to respond, a lie resting at the tip of your tongue, but you squash it and say, “No, they weren’t.” 

At this, Penny breaks. 

She drops her head into her hands and cries, pulling her knees up and to her chest while the heels of her feet rest on the edge of the couch. 

She was in love with you. So desperately, eagerly, pathetically in love with you. 

And now, she doesn’t know how to move forward. 

Her whole life, she has dealt with bad people. From the moment she was born she has fought with everything she’s ever had to be one of the good ones. Abiding by the rules, keeping to herself to avoid stepping on any toes, taking care of others when they don’t even appreciate the kindness she shows to them. 

“I don’t-” she gasped between her tears. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

The farmer nodded, taking her hands into their own and squeezing them gently. “I love you, Penny. More than anything.” 

“Why did you have to tell me?” she whispered. “Why..” 

“I couldn’t keep lying to you..” 

Penny stood, ripping her hands away to rope the back of them under her eyes. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

Then she ran off, leaving you there as the guilt washed over you. 

[daisymintt]

Still the River Flows

Inspired by the song Still/Neva Flows Reprise from Anastasia the Broadway play.

Emrys was barely eight years old when Uther and his men had found them hiding in a cellar near the outskirts of Camelot with the few other remaining Druids. When his mother had heard the sound of horses nearing she had shoved him into an empty grain barrel in the corner and told him to be quiet no matter what he heard.

Through a small split in the wood Emrys watched as the cellar doors were smashed open, knights poured in and roughly grabbed his parents. They pulled them out of the cellar into the chilly night air kicking and screaming, herding the rest of the Druids that he had grown to consider family with them.

“Where is the boy? Where is Emrys?” The tyrant king thundered. His mother begged the tyrant king to spare him.

“He’s just a child!” She had pleaded, her cries falling on deaf ears. His father had raged against Uther but with all the dragons dead his rage had little effect on the tyrant king. The cries of the fearful children and the pleading of the parents was cut short leaving only a horrible silence. Emrys knew in his heart that his parents were dead. He felt tears threatening to overwhelm him and a sob clawing its way up his throat.

He bit into his neckerchief to try and muffle any sound he made as the tears flowed down his face. “Search the cellar, he can’t be far.” The tyrant king commanded.

Emrys stiffened and tried to shrink down farther into the barrel as once again the knights stormed the cellar upending baskets and knocking over anything person sized, searching for any sign of him. Emrys whimpered quietly to himself, terrified of being found. After what felt like an eternity the knights gave up and started heading back out, all but one.

A boy who couldn’t be more than a couple years his elder stayed behind. The boy had flaxen hair that gleamed silver in the moonlight and his sword seemed too big for him, he kept having to adjust the belt and the tip of the sword dragged on the ground.

Emrys shifted in the barrel and the wood creaked, the boys head whipped in his direction. Emrys held his breath and prayed to the Triple Goddess that he would walk the other way. The boy gripped the hilt of his sword and neared the barrel. Emrys feared for his life as the boy looked down into the barrel. Their eyes met and for a brief moment Emrys thought, This is it. I’m dead.

“Arthur! Hurry up!” The tyrant king called. The boy gave him a pitying look and stepped away. “Coming, father!” He yelled before quickly departing from the cellar, careful not to look back at the boy hidden in the barrel.

~*~

Ten years later Emrys, who now goes by Merlin, finds himself once again in Camelot and as the prince’s manservant no less! Over the years Merlin and the Prince grew close, closer than any Prince and his servant ever should. Merlin would die for Arthur and Arthur would die for him. Despite their close bond Merlin still kept his magic a secret from him for fear of what would happen if he found out.

Despite his best attempts to undue all that Uther had taught Arthur about magic the damage was already done. Arthur could be so kind but at the smallest hint of magic he turned into father, untrusting and even cruel. One day this all came to a head when Merlin went with Arthur on a quest near the border town Ealdor that had reached out begging for protection from a warlord.

Merlin had found himself cornered and was left with no choice but to use his magic. The look of absolute betrayal on Arthur’s face broke his heart. Once the warlord was dealt with Merlin remained in Ealdor while Arthur returned to Camelot. Little more than a month later Arthur returned to check in on the people of Ealdor, avoiding Merlin to the best of his abilities as he did until on the final day before Arthur was to depart Merlin finally got him alone.

“Arthur…” Merlin reached out for Arthur but Arthur shrugged him off as all the missing pieces started fitting into place. Merlin was that Druid boy he had spared all those years ago in that cellar in Camelot.

“An underhanded boy, an act of desperation, and to my consternation I let you go. Not this time. Ealdor is no place for a good and loyal Camelonian.”

“We are both good and loyal Camelonians.” Merlin insisted.

“I’ve come to take you home.”

“My home is here now.”

“Stop playing this game, Merlin! I beg you.” Arthur’s voice grew desperate as he tried to convey the seriousness of the situation.

Merlin’s voice quieted, “We both know it’s not a game, Arthur.”

“If you really are Emrys do you think history wants you to have lived?”

“Yes! Why don’t you?” Merlin’s voice cracked at the last bit, his hurt breaking through.

“The Druids were given everything and gave back nothing until my father rose up and destroyed them.”

Merlin straightened his back, all traces of subservients gone replaced with cool confidence, and with a steely voice he stepped closer to Arthur and challenged, “All but one. Finish it. I am my fathers progeny.”

“AND I AM MY FATHERS SON!” Arthur roared as he unsheathed his sword with the hiss of metal against leather and pressed the tip against Merlin’s throat, “Finish it I must. My father shook his head and told me not to ask, Gaius said he died of shame.”

“In me you see them, look at their faces in mine, hear their scream, imagine their terror, see their blood!” Merlin cried, his eyes flaring gold and a wind started circulating around them kicking up dust.

“But I believed he did a proud and vital task and in my fathers name!” Arthur pressed the tip of the sword harder against Merlin’s throat, blood beading around the cut and trailing down the pale skin of his throat.

“Do it! And I will be with my parents and my brothers and sisters in that cellar in Camelot all over again!” Merlin’s voice raised, recalling the fateful night they had first met all those years ago.

Arthur shivered at the memory of the Druid children crying out as they where cut down at his fathers word, begging for their mothers. The sword dropped to Merlin’s chest. Arthur pressed on, “The children… their voices… a man makes painful choices. He does what’s necessary, Merlin! For Camelot, my beauty. What choice but simple duty. We have a past to bury, Merlin!”

Arthur tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and pressed the tip against Merlin’s chest where his heart would be, “And soon it will be spring. The leaves unfold, the king lies cold. Be careful what a dream may bring, a revolution is a simple thing!”

Merlin inhaled sharply as Arthur pulled back his sword and swung it down towards his neck. At the last moment Arthur plunged the sword into the earth, collapsing against it as sobs wracked his body. “I can’t do it… I… I can’t…”

[iamdespy]

WARNING‼️:

2 absolute fitties of men.

They make me go cray-cray 😵‍💫

[froggymilky]

Reward [yandere Dazai x Chuuya]

Title: Reward [yandere Dazai x Chuuya]

Synopsis: Dazai has never felt love, but he has lust, and he needs to show that little shit who's boss.

TW: Yandere, darkfic, violence, non-con, somnophilia.

"Dammit", Dazai spits out softly, keeping his arms crossed, looking at his partner with a cold, single eye. "Do you have to pass out every time you use corruption?"

Chuuya doesn't answer him, of course, he's too busy snoring on the floor of a dirty, run-down building. He is dirty, covered in sweat, soot and blood, the result of having killed fitty men. His clothing torn to the point where it only covers some of the most intimate parts of his body, face down and…

soft flesh, that plump ass that was exposed and slightly raised, almost as if it was waiting for someone to look at it, suffocated in the remains of the tight pants worn by the redhead.

And an idea blooms in his intelligent head.

Dazai has never felt love, but he has felt lust. He's spent weeks working with that brat, breathing the same air as him and enduring his constant yelling. As long as he's been keeping his gaze from drifting downward every time he's leaned in.

He thinks that, after enduring so many things, he deserves a reward, right? And he has a need to show that shit who's boss between the two of them.

He doesn't wait long, sits on his lap, his ass like a prize prepared for him, and gives an experimental pat to the plump, almost bare cheek, which jerks at his touch, with a delicious sound.

"You hide something good here, don't you?" He scoffs, he doesn't care that the only response he receives is soft snores.

He tears the rest of his pants, repeats it with his underwear, destroying the only thing that covered him, leaving his ass completely bare. He kneads his cheeks with both hands, parting both to show his slut hole, pinching the skin, enjoying the feeling of power.

Chuuya just squirmed under him, complaining in his sleep, probably not knowing anything.

"Little bitch" He insults, just for the pleasure of humiliating him as much as possible. He moves a little closer, rubbing his member over his clothes with that ass, while he leans in enough to breathe on the back of his neck. He kisses him, leaves hickeys and bite marks that take on different colors on his pale skin, each one a reminder of this fantastic night.

So, he decided that was enough foreplay for someone who couldn't enjoy it. He's abrupt when he puts two fingers in Chuuya's mouth, but he doesn't care, he pulls his tongue to moisten them, and in less than a minute they're out again.

He doesn't have time to miss the quality of his mouth, because he quickly plunges into the warmth of his ass.

It's tight, uncomfortable, almost like he's struggling to get them out of him, because Chuuya moves more than before, frowning in pain.

This, which in any person with empathy could cause regret, just bothered him. He was trying to make it easier for both of them, that he wouldn't have to force his penis into that little hole, that it didn't hurt so much for the little shit he was going to fuck himself, and he tried hard to be a brat even in his sleep. what the fuck?

He gives in to that, spanking his rear hard before unbuttoning his pants, leaving a mark on the skin, as if he's telling him that what's going to happen is his fault.

He sighs as he releases his member, the breeze feeling cool against his sensitive skin. He masturbates in a few movements, feasting his eyes on the sight he had prepared for himself. Soon, he separates his cheeks with his hands, settling in to enter. Push.

"Shit, Chuuya", he spits, it was so tight that it almost hurt to be inside him, but he didn't care, the pleasure was greater. She rams into him almost immediately, using his hole as a cock sleeve, slapping in and out in time with her movements, moaning at how amazing it felt.

He hadn't noticed at first, but Chuuya was bleeding, in addition to the pre-cum that surrounds his penis, there were also small streaks of blood.

"Is this your first time too?" She asks gracefully between gasps, though she knew full well that bleeding the first time was a myth.

Grabbing a handful of his hair, he jerked his head up, the position changed and he was able to be more inside him. He saw with satisfaction his face wrinkled in pain, his cheeks wet with tears.

He should feel bad, he knows that normal people feel bad about causing harm, but he had never been normal.

He licks his companion's cheeks, continuing to thrust, even the salty taste of her tears was exciting for him, and he has the feeling that he wants to be inside Chuuya forever, was this love?

He fucks him harder, he felt that familiar tingle in his belly and he knew well that he was getting closer to orgasm, but he doesn't stop, he would do it inside him, he would fill it with his semen to show who was in charge here, who could do what they wanted with the other.

He bites down hard on her neck as he comes, moving his hips a little more during his orgasm, until he feels overstimulated.

Gasping, he came out, his hole was gaping and dripping with cum, the view was perfect for him. He spanks him, he realizes that he is shaking and that makes him laugh gently.

"We have to do it again sometime, hmm?" There is no response, as there was none in Dazai's entire pleasure session. That asshole Chuuya had let someone fuck him, without doing anything about it, he deserved this to happen to him.

"I want to pee..." He mutters, this time only to himself, and without thinking about it too much, he gets up, he looks at his ruined partner, and points to his face before throwing the first piss. Some drops fell on his mouth, he also bathed his hair, ass and back with that golden rain.

He had humiliated him completely, naked on the cold, dirty floor, his clothes torn, his hole used up, filled with the semen, blood, and urine of the person he hated most in the world.

"Well, good night, belladonna!" He buttons his pants and waves his hand, saying goodbye to him. The only thing he had to do was bring Chuuya safely to the Port Mafia facilities, but he had forgotten about that detail while walking back.

[the-iron-fjord]

I haven't seen this much shin abuse since Cotton Hill killed fitty men

[judeswhore]

i have a confession: i know NOTHING about football and i have never watched a game, i just like to look at their muscles and pretty faces and it's funny to watch grown men try to teach me shit

I know what nfl is and what a touch down is and a kick but other than that naaaaah but joe cute pretty much why i got into it to watch a superbowl for two seasons now 🙂

yeah tbf id watch for the fitties too

[kdubya80]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp MiLB Red New Era 59Fifty Fitty Hat Mens 7 1/2.

[cat-hybridcellbit]

Tissy you told the Men’s Tits and Ass website to find a coping mechanism and you’re surprised they latched on to FitMC and his canonical Fitties? I’m sorry but this was entirely predictable, friend.

Qsmpblr when I said find yourself a healthy coping mechanism, I didn't quite mean fit's ass 💀