#gotta get that vhs grit in there

[ibrithir-was-here]

Wanted to do some more practice fake anime screen caps, so here’s Crimson Peak as a 90s horror anime ala Vampire Hunter D

[noellawrites]

We’re In Love, Actually - James Maguire x reader

You were pretty fed up with your friends, especially Michelle. They treated James like shite, bullied him and constantly excluded him from pretty much everything. This was how you began hanging out in secret, just the two of you.

“If Michelle finds out about us, she’ll kill me,” you muttered, washing dishes from yours and James’ latest dinner date.

“Kill you? At least she likes you. She’s disgusted by my existence,” James protested, bringing more dishes to the sink.

“I hope she never finds out.”

“She’ll definitely know when you ask her to be a bridesmaid at our wedding.”

“You want to marry me?”

“Of course I do!”

“James, you silly fool, I love you,” you giggled as James’ hand grasped your cheek, gently pulling your mouth to his for a passionate kiss.

Your parents were out of town this weekend, so you invited James to stay the night. The only way he could explain it to Michelle and her mom was that he was “staying over at a guy friend’s house,” and though Michelle was pretty sure her cousin was gay, she had never once seen him talk to anyone other than her friends.

Just after you had popped the VHS of Excalibur in the telly and settled onto the couch next to James, you heard a knock at your front door.

“That’s odd, I’m not expecting anyone.”

You looked through the peephole and immediately you saw Michelle angrily standing at the door.

“Look (y/n), I know yer in there! I’ve got a bottle of gin with yer name on it,” she yelled.

“Shit, shit, I’ve gotta get out of here!” James yelped, jumping off the couch and looking for another exit.

“We’re on the fourth floor of an apartment building, there’s literally no way out! Just hide in my closet,” you whispered, flattening your hair and waiting for James to hide before swinging the door open.

“What’s up, ‘chelle?” you asked nonchalantly.

“What are you doin’ tonight? I thought we could go ‘round town, get into the usual shit. The girls are downstairs, but if you just want it to be us , I can—“

“I’m not feeling great tonight, could we maybe do it another night?”

“Are your parents here? I know you said they’d be out of town for the weekend. I don’t want to leave you alone if you’re ill…” Michelle said, walking past you and through the living room.

“Michelle, I’m not really in the mood,” you groaned.

“James told me he was staying at a guy friend’s house. Quite strange, considering he doesn’t have any,” Michelle continued, walking down the narrow hallway to your room.

“What do you want from me, ‘chelle?”

“I want you to tell me that you’re fucking my cousin,”she said, gritting her teeth. When she got to your room, she marched right over to your closet and threw the door open.

“Uh, hey Michelle?” James grimaced. Michelle grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, dragged him out and punched him in the face.

“Jesus ‘chelle!” You yelled, getting between them and pushing them apart.

“I told you she’d kill me!” your boyfriend yelled, wiping the blood from his mouth.

“Yeah, well, that’s for riding my best friend!” she lunged at him again, causing you to hold her back with your arm.

“I’m in love with her, okay! You can beat me to a pulp or throw me out of your house or do whatever you want to me but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m in love with (y/n)!” James yelled hysterically, causing you to smile.

“Christ, we heard the commotion,” Erin said, stepping into your room followed by Claire and Orla.

“What did we miss?” Claire asked, handing a tissue to James.

“We’re getting married, and you’re all going to be my bridesmaids,” you laughed, pulling James in for a kiss. Your friends made various barf noises showing their discomfort.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Erin hand Orla an Irish pound. Of course they had bet on you two.

“If you make me your maid of honor, I’ll murder you first,” Michelle threatened.

Michelle’s threats didn’t faze you; you were just happy to not have to hide your love from your friends anymore.

[heavymetalover]

Strangers In the Night (Xavier Plympton x fem reader)

Summary: You’re hitchhiking when getting picked up by an unexpected stranger.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex, vaginal sex, daddy kink, fluff (omg).

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: im SORRY about the daddy kink AGAIN… i have daddy issues.

this ended up being wholesome, i feel letdown tbh.

~mostly inspired by the beautiful ones by prince~

~~~~

  You chew away on your gum, taking small steps through the gravel going towards your destination. Surrounded by nothing but a narrow road and some woods. As night begins to fall, you become a little more suspicious of each sound rocking in the trees. After all, there’s been a crazy murderer on the loose around LA. Gives you shivers just thinking he could be lurking, watching.

The sound of a car approaches and you follow the routine of turning towards the road and sticking a polished thumb up in hopes you’ll attract a Good Samaritan. The dusty red Nissan slows down to give you an unbearably loud honk and speeds away, you spit into the dust it leaves behind. “Fucker!” you yell out, although certain the road hog wouldn’t hear.

Another driver approaches, quite a large van. You shyly stick out your thumb again and feel a smile inching onto your face; sometimes friendliness can tempt the strangers. You can’t see them from where you stand, but their van pulls to the side of the road for you.

Not wasting a beat, you spit your gum out onto the road and skip over to the van. The window’s rolled down and a dapper man sits in the driver’s seat. Frosted hair hairsprayed to perfection, green tank top exposing his trim arms, and sunglasses tipped slightly over the bridge of his nose, exposing ravishing blue eyes. “Hey honey,” he greets with a smirk, “need a lift?”

You jump onto the step for the passenger’s door and lean into the window, head resting on your arms. “You headed north?” you ask, biting your bottom lip to entice the stranger.

“Sure am,” he replies looking out onto the road. “Just stopping at Oasis, is that far enough for you?”

You shrug your head into a shoulder, peering out onto the road with half a smile. You lean back on the step, gripping onto the window with your fingerless gloves. “Hey, beggars can’t be choosers, right?” you joke, leaning back into the window and turning to look at the handsome man again. He’s taken his sunglasses off completely, biting the tips seductively with his dazzling eyes plastered on you. Your heart sinks in your chest, not even bothering to hold back your nervous smile. You run your tongue between your teeth and his eyes find the floor of his van.

He shakes his head and puts his sunglasses back on. “You better get inside before you get me in trouble, baby,” he says with a slight sigh.

You jump off of the step to swing open the door and eagerly hop into the passenger’s seat, throwing your backpack into the back of his van and slamming the door shut. Digging through your pocket for a pack of cigarettes that you stole from your roommate before fleeing; you hit the box, taking the single stick that jut out, and sticking it between your teeth. “Mind if I…?” you trail off, dangling the cigarette between your lips.

His eyes dart towards you and back onto the road, “Oh no, of course not. Go right ahead,” he blurts, adjusting himself in his seat. “Actually,” he reaches beside him and grabs a small lighter, “I got that for you.”

He hangs over his seat, keeping one hand on the wheel. He sparks the lighter once, twice before it ignites. He holds the flame to your cigarette, his eyes meeting yours only for a moment. You sharply inhale the oaky, bitter taste of tobacco before hastily blowing it into his face. He leans back into his seat, suppressing an obvious smile as he goes back to focusing on the road. “You’re going to get someone killed one day if you wanna act like a gentleman, lighting up my cigarette and being all chivalrous.”

“Pfft,” he jeers. “Can’t kill anybody when there’s no one around.”

He glances at you, cross earring hanging from one of his ears and you feel a drop in the pit of your stomach. “You look so familiar,” you mention before taking another drag.

“I get Simon Le Bon a lot,” he nods.

“No,” you shake your head.

“George Michael?” he guesses with an apathetic shrug.

“No, no, not like that,” you take another drag. “I’ve seen you -your face- before somewhere,” you tap your chin, “somewhere.”

“Oh!” he sounds enthusiastic. “I teach aerobics! Maybe you came by the studio?”

“No, I haven’t,” you reply mindlessly, drawing more thick smoke into your lungs and tapping the tip of the stick to remove excess ash. You’re searching every crevasse of your brain for where you’ve seen this man before, but coming up empty.

He looks nervous with the more time you spend silently pondering. “I’m a pretty serious actor, maybe you’ve seen some of my stuff,” he suggests, trying to break the silence.

Your heart skips a beat and you accidentally fling your cigarette out the window from excitement. “Oh my gosh! Yes! That’s where I’ve seen you! I have seen some of your stuff, ooh baby, I’ve seen all of your stuff,” you exclaim, pointing down to his crotch. “One of my old roommates was gay, had a total hard-on for your VHS.”

The man shakes his head, nervous laughter evading his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Oh, don’t you dare bullshit me,” your voice cracks into a squeal as you push his arm. He’s still shaking his head as confutation. “No, no, no, don’t even deny it. I saw a skinny guy taking a hard piping from you! I know it was you, how could I mistake that beautiful face? And you even have the earring, c’mon.”

“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, okay?” he snaps in distress. He doesn’t entertain your claims, instead shaking his head weakly. “I’m not…” his voice quivers. “I’m not gay.”

You feel an instant pang of regret for making such a big deal about the tape. “Oh,” you sigh, “well, I never thought you, you were.” You slump back into your seat, positioning yourself to face the road again. The man has gone silent. “I mean, for what it’s worth,” you start, but your mind screams at you to stop. Just let it go, he’s clearly uncomfortable.

You purse your lips together and sigh, suffocating your hands between squished thighs. You fill your cheeks up with air in hopes it’ll get you to stop yapping. The only sound present is the tires going over the gravelly road. “For what it’s worth?” he finally asks.

You hold back a smile, turning back to him. “I was just going to say you looked like you were really good,” you blurt out. “And big,” you bring your voice higher in an attempt to sound more flirtatious, “very, very big.” He exhales a lazy snicker and shakes his head. “What?” you throw up your hands defensively, “It’s true!”

He continues shaking his head. “You’re too much,” he exhales.

“Well apparently you are too,” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

His mouth is agape, no words coming out and too stunted by yours to even attempt a rebuttal. He glances at you, eyes peeping over his glasses to get a better look. “Who are you?” he asks.

You perk up in your seat, offering your hand to him since he’s already proven himself to be a careless driver. “I’m y/n,” you say with a jaunty smile. “And you are?”

He takes your hand limply into his. “Xavier,” he says, leaning down to give a small peck onto your gloved knuckles.

“Classy,” you whisper while retrieving your hand, Xavier returns his focus to the road. Part of you is kicking yourself for even wearing the gloves and missing out on the feel of his soft lips against your skin. Dammit, why did Madonna have to make them so fashionable?

You itch to cross your legs in your seat, but knowing that would expose Xavier to what’s underneath your dress, instead you opt to just sit on them. Would it be so bad to expose myself to him? “Xavier,” you say his name to fill up the conversational lull. “Xavier, Xavier, Xavier,” you singsong. “Why did you stop to pick me up? Pick up a lot of hitchhikers?” you keep your eyes glued on him and lean your head back on the seat to get comfortable. His van does have a very homey feel.

“No, you’re my first,” he responds.

You dramatize a fake gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Little old me? Why am I so lucky?” you press.

“Well, the sun’s setting, you’re in the middle of the woods and you’re a girl. Not to mention the lunatic Night Stalker going around the area, guess I was feeling a bit generous,” he smiles. You begin nodding your head, satisfied with his answer, when he cuts you short. “Or,” he adds, “maybe I just thought you were one, very foxy chick.” You feel your heart flutter and cheeks burn hot; you want to fan yourself like they do in movies. “Either way, I still picked you up, didn’t I?” He asks, cocking a brow.

“Oh yes sir, indeed,” you smirk with a slight shake to your head.

The woods have disappeared behind you two and in no time, you’ve reached Xavier’s destination on Oasis street. He parks his car on the side of the road and takes the keys out of the ignition, finally turning in his seat to face you like you’ve done during the whole ride. The sexual tension is beginning to become an insufferable elephant in the room. “Where you heading from here?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Don’t know, maybe crash at one of those twenty-four-hour diners until they kick me out,” you say with a slight chuckle, recalling how many times that’s happened to you before. “Just gotta get out of this place, y’know.”

He tilts his head up. “Running from something?” he speculates.

“Aren’t we all?” you roll your eyes with a slight nod.

He grins, “You can say that again.”

You take one long look at him before letting out a bitter sigh. “Goddamn it, I guess I should bounce,” you say with a frown. You reach into the back of his van to get your backpack, making sure to spend extra long bending over in your short dress. You lean onto his seat, feeling your ass press up against his arm and can only pray he’s getting a good look at it.

You eventually recover your bag from the back and sit down, body twisted towards Xavier. You prolong the inevitable, not wanting to leave his van, not wanting to leave him. There’s something about this stranger that excites you, that makes you thirst for more of him. You can’t explain it, there’s just an overwhelming attraction.

You open the door to leave his van, sliding out when he grabs your wrist. “Wait,” he protests. You stand on the step to the passenger’s seat. “Ehm,” the words get choked at the back of his throat. “I’m not in a rush, you can stay with me for a while and chat,” he suggests. “Only if you want to, obviously. You can leave too if you want, but… I think you’re a pretty cool chick.”

You purse your lips to hide a smile. “Thought I was a foxy chick,” you joke, adjusting the backpack that keeps slipping down your shoulders.

“Oh yeah,” he lifts his brows, “mighty foxy.” He nods his head, half-lidded eyes ogling you with a wide smile spread across his gorgeous face, you can’t resist him. You climb back into his van and shut the door.

You settle into the chair and he pulls out a box of cassettes from under the driver’s seat, fishing through them to find a keeper. You dig through your backpack and pull out a cherry lollipop, his eyes squinting in confusion as you unravel the plastic. “Don’t give me that look, I feel myself about to crash,” you explain yourself.

“No judgement here,” he replies, fingering through his cassettes.

You nurse your lollipop, peering into his box to find any recognizable artists, but they’re mostly mixtapes. You pluck out a black tape marked ‘Purple Rain’, the newest Prince album. “Didn’t this movie just come out?” you slur your words, lollipop sitting passively against your cheek.

He glances up. “Yes, but the album came out a while ago,” he explains, still pawing through his collection.

“Well, I haven’t heard it yet,” you shrug and shove it into the cassette player. The machine takes a moment to read the tape.

“Songs are a bit wonky and out of order, I recorded it from my friend’s album,” he confesses.

The album starts playing with a funky pop beat. “See, it’s working. Now, put that away,” you order, grabbing the box from him. “Let’s talk.”

You throw his box into the back of his van and spin towards him again. He looks up for a moment, seemingly in thought, then back at you. His enchanting light eyes capturing you from the lightening fast contact. “W-what are you running away from?” he asks with a moment of hesitation.

You take the lollipop out of your mouth. “Wow, already with the hard-hitting questions,” you tease. He stares at you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet the bright blue that sweeps you off your feet. Instead, looking at your hands and cleaning under your nails. “I guess just a bad living situation. Been house-hopping for as long as I can remember, but I basically just live out on the road now,” you meet his eyes for a second, only to embarrassedly look away.

“I get it,” he nods.

You finally look at him, sort of in disbelief. Usually the people who drive you places always lecture you about making better life decisions, finding a job, pursuing school, yatta, yatta, yatta. ‘The whole world is at your fingertips’ spiel. It takes you by surprise that he understands. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he breaks eye contact, his thumb ghosting his full bottom lip. “I was in a tough spot not long ago. We’ve grown up in the prime time of being doped up drug peddlers and I was dumb enough to fall into that bullshit. And I’m talking about the hard stuff, not like M.J. or cocaine.” I don’t do many drugs, maybe a bit of weed here and there, but I thought cocaine was a hard drug. “But,” he breaks your inner monologue, “the strongest people always go through the toughest shit.”

“Cheers to that,” you smile and cheers the air with your lollipop, penetrating the sticky candy between Xavier’s lips.  He accepts the intrusion gracefully, keeping the sweet, ravished ball of cherry between his lips. “Any summer plans?” you ask.

He takes the candy out of his mouth, the crimson orb glossing over his perfectly plump lips. “Nothing much, just teaching more classes. Got this gnarly gig up at some camp in a few weeks, should be fun,” he answers.

“I don’t know of any camps around here. Which one?” you ask, half paying attention and half peering onto the road.

“Camp Redwood.” Your head snaps back to look at him and you instinctively slap his arm in hopes it’ll get rid of the idiot in him. “What?” he shrugs.

“What’s your damage, dude?” you gasp with a facetious smirk. “Are you honestly telling me that they reopened Camp fucking Deadwood and you’re stupid enough to go work there? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Why? What happened there?” he asks, eyebrows knit in confusion.

You sigh, you’ve been on the road for so long and even you’re more up to date on the folklore of Camp Redwood. “There was a huge massacre there. Every single person ended up dead, stabbed to bits, and all of them had one ear missing. It was a psycho killer they called Mr. Jingles because his only giveaway was the sound his keys made,” you pause to imitate the sound of keys jingling, “ching cling cling, right before he slashed them to bits!”

He smiles and squints at you, taking a moment to absorb your story. “Not even! You kind of had me until you oversold it with the keys thing,” he exclaims, waving the lollipop around as he speaks.

“Xavier, I shit you not, that actually happened,” you explain, leaning closer to him. “And the worst part is that Mr. Jingles is still alive today. Probably waiting for the day that that fucking camp reopens to escape the loony bin and do it all over again,” you make your voice low to freak him out.

He scoffs. “So what? I’m not afraid of some drip named Mr. Jingles. If anything, he should be the one scared of me.”

You laugh a little too hysterically at his comment. “Mhm, yeah right,” you mock. “He’d take one look at your George Michael lookin’ ass and run in the opposite direction,” you deliver sardonically. You fetch your lollipop and slump back into your seat, turning the dial up on the radio. A song with a raunchy beat starts up and both you and Xavier exchange a glance. “What song is this?” you ask, puckering your lips against the lollipop.

He clears his throat, “S’called Darling Nikki.”

“Mmm,” you lean back in your seat, but keep your eyes locked on him. “It’s pretty sexy.”

He nods. “It is.”

His eyes meet yours, pink tongue running over his bottom lip. You shove the candy into your mouth, sucking on the sweet taste of artificial cherry. The song puts you in the mood. Not that you weren’t already in the mood, but it offers the perfect opportunity to stop beating around the bush.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, bobbing on the lollipop in your mouth until the savory ball hits the back of your throat. Gagging, you pull it out of your mouth slowly, opening your eyes and giving Xavier a knowing look.

He slowly exhales watching you, now leaning against his seat and lightly covering the bottom of his face with one large, veined hand. “Holy shit,” you hear him breathe.

The lollipop clings to your lips before bursting out, keeping a connection through a filthy pink string of saliva. It detaches and smacks against your chin. You keep your eyes peeled on Xavier and he studies your mouth. You slap the candy against your sodden tongue and slurp up the mess you made, keeping the lollipop pressed against your lips. “You’re a nasty girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, white teeth tugging slightly at his lip. Fuck.

“You want to see something nasty?” you ask, leaning the passenger’s seat back in preparation. “I’ll show you something nasty.”

You suck on the lollipop one more time, slobbering on it just before it’s completely drenched in your saliva. Leaning back on the seat, you hike up your short dress and expose your favourite skimpy panties. After building up so much tension between the two of you, your pussy is already wet and craving the touch of his big hands.

You rub your clit in circles before pulling the fabric to the side. Xavier’s eyes watch every movement as you trail the drenched lollipop down your body, stopping at your pussy. You run the cherry-flavoured orb down your folds and press it against your tight hole. You apply pressure until it penetrates and let out a soft moan. Recalling how long and fat Xavier’s cock was in his dirty movie, you can’t imagine how it would ever fit inside of you.

You shove the lollipop further into yourself, trying to stretch yourself out a little bit in readiness for Xavier. Wiggling the stick around inside yourself and pushing it to the point of nearly disappearing inside your hole. You shimmy it some more before dragging it out against the resistance of your retentive walls. Reinserting the candy into your mouth and getting a saltier flavour this time.

Xavier shifts around in his seat, erection booming in his tight pants. A palm over his crotch for readjustment, he leans closer to you. You can feel the warmth of his body, it makes you tingle. “I find it rude not to share,” he finally speaks.

You take the lollipop out of your mouth and veer yourself towards Xavier, setting a small kiss on his lips. He puts a hand on your cheek, guiding more of your kisses towards him, while the other hand crawls down your body. His hand stops on your thigh and you feel a thousand goosebumps erupt on that leg, a shiver running through your veins.

His lips don’t part from yours, fusing with your face and sucking ever so gently on your lips. He combs his hand towards your pussy, fingertips grazing your thighs as he inches to the throbbing in your clit. You bring the candy back down to your folds, but he takes it from you, insistent on that whole ‘sharing’ rule.

Xavier leaves your lips for a moment to spit down onto your wet cunt, rubbing the candy against your slit before pushing into your hole. Once again, it demands a meager moan out of you, this time you moan onto Xavier’s lips. “That’s right, moan for me, baby. Moan for daddy.” You summon more moans as he fucks the lollipop into you, playing them up to turn him on even more.

You gnaw on your lip and look at Xavier, light sobs still faintly spilling from the back of your throat. You must seem irresistible to him because he mashes his lips into yours and leaves your pussy to place both hands on your face, pulling you closer to him. You pull out the candy he left inside of you and detach from his kiss to pop it into his mouth.

Xavier grabs both of your wrists and slips into the back of his van, bringing you along with him. He sucks all your juices off of the lollipop before spitting it out onto the floor. As he takes a seat in the back, you sit next to him, resting both of your legs on his thighs as you two join at the lips once again. His hands brush up and down your legs, feeling the rapid growth of goosebumps with each swipe.

The kiss intensifies, tongues colliding and lips smacking. You pull at his tank top as if silently begging him to take it off. A new song begins and he moans against your lips, pulling away eagerly and leaving you lovestruck, leaning in an awkward position and trying to reorient yourself. He slides away from you and pulls his top off over his head, then begins undressing you as well, pulling for your dress to come off. You lay onto your back and shimmy your dress off, still wearing a bra and panties set. In a matter of seconds, you’re skin to skin and Xavier is on top of you, teasing you with soft kisses. His lips pulling away to mouth the lyrics: “Baby, baby, baby. What’s it gonna be? Baby, baby, baby. Is it him or is it me?”

You bring him back, kissing the sweet cherry off of his lips. His hands rough up your body, grabbing a hold of every bit of you like he hasn’t touched anybody in years. One hand squeezing your hip while the other finds your cunt to rub back and forth on your swollen clit. When you push back from his kiss, pardoning a loud groan, he kisses your neck. He savours you, handles you like a prize possession, it makes you feel warm.

You palm the bulge in his briefs, feeling him grow and heat up under your touch. His breath catches and he jerks his waist away from you. You pause your kiss to shoot him a flustered grimace. “I want this to be about you, baby, not me,” he explains, before giving one more kiss on your lips. Then one on your neck, chest, belly, down to your pelvis. You let out a broken breath when he kisses right above the line of your panties. He slides them down your legs and taunts your aching clit with his delicate breath; appointing extra sloppy kisses on your thighs as he works his way to the main dish. He looks up at you, baby blue eyes unabashedly beaming with excitement before diving into your candied cunt.

You throw your head back as he begins licking you up and pushing your legs further apart. The pleasure so built and intense that you feel it hit the moment he lays his tongue flat onto your dripping core. You feel your muscles quivering under his lick, under his touch, and your body burns with desire. One hand lays limp on your leg while the other continues pulsing your clit, his tongue shoves its way down your gaping hole.

You reach down to grab onto him, grab onto something, anything. He holds up his hand and you lace your fingers with his, squeezing at each undeniable moment of pleasure. You scrunch up your feet as he quickens the pacing over your clit, then slowing it down. He plays your pussy like a gifted musician, speeding up and slowing down just when you need him to. “Please fuck me,” you beg, the words pouring out on their own, “Xavier, I want you inside of me.”

He stops gluttonously licking up your cunt to look up at you for confirmation on your words. “Y’sure?” he questions, making sure there are no misconceptions.

You prop yourself on your elbows, raking a hand through his perfectly gelled, thick head of hair. “Unless you’d like to stay down there, daddy,” you say, squeezing him between your thighs slightly on the pet name.

“Baby, I can stay down here forever,” he lays his head on your leg and you sit up, pulling him to meet your lips. His kiss makes the world feel dreamlike, so tantalizing and hypnogogic that you swear you’re tripping on acid when he touches you.

He gives an unexpected slap to your raw cunt and you jump, unable to hold back a short peep hiccupped into Xavier’s mouth. He smiles. “I love making my kitten purr,” he whispers into your lips, slapping you once again and you chirp another calculable yelp.

Xavier climbs on top of you with his lips pressed passionately against yours, fighting for dominance. His long fingers grip the back of your neck while his thumbs massage the curve of your jaw reverently. His big hands soon venturing to other parts of your body, running down your back and promptly unhooking your bra like a burden that could no longer be adjourned. The fabric falls artlessly and Xavier paws at your breasts before he can even see them. Still locked on your lips, he circles a finger around your nipple, motivating them to get hard sooner than you’d expected. Nipping at the tiny buds, he leaves your lips to suckle them; running his tongue against your areola and giving strong sucks. You appreciate the moment so much, watching Xavier suck on your tits like his life depended on it, that you completely forgot you were in his van.

You reach down to his crotch and he lets you this time. Rubbing his long cock in his briefs, feeling how rock-hard he is turns you on even more. A shudder rumbles through your body and you take his dick out. It’s already ready for you, long and thick, harder than ever. He stops worshipping your tits to kiss you again, this time lightly pushing you down so you lay in the backseat of his van.

He stands over you, holding his cock and spitting onto it to lube it up for you. He rubs his saliva onto the head and up and down the shaft before resting it on your hole. You prop yourself up to watch it go in, feeling your heartbeat quicken with each tiny amount of pressure he puts. “Are you ready for it?” he asks, smearing the head into your wet folds.

“Mmm,” you moan, just feeling his cock against you is enough to send you to euphoria. “Yes, daddy.” He slowly starts pushing himself into you, stretching you out so much that all you can do is stifle a moan. Your nails dig into his seats, no doubt leaving some kind of mark or even some polish flakes. “Slow, slow, slow,” you plead through gritted teeth.

He accommodates and moves into you at a snail’s pace, stopping every so often when he thinks he’s hurt you. Once he’s half in, he starts pumping in and out, stuffing you up with his chunky length. “Oh my,” is all you can contrive through deep breaths.

He sees how unravelled you’ve become and leans down so you could rest your head on his shoulder. “Hold onto me,” he requests. You follow orders, grabbing onto his back and guiltily digging your nails into him with every thrust. “Let me know if I’m hurting you,” he whispers into your ear.

The rational part of your brain has already called quits on taking his dick, but you’re too charmed by Xavier to tell him to stop. Of course there’s the pain, but his cock is so deep and so big that it vellicates a sensitive area inside your pussy that you’ve never felt before. Each plunge poking at it slightly and stimulating it just enough to keep you from surrendering to his length. You’ve explored your body enough to find your g-spot, but he tickles an area that’s causing you to completely shatter. He pumps again and you feel yourself loosening up to him, although that doesn’t stop your nails from clawing up his back.

All the pain you’ve felt is absorbed into overwhelming thrill. You sit up even more now and watch his cock pump into you, your pussy accepting more of him with each thrust. He keeps hitting that spot in you and your whole body tenses up with it. You look at him, trying to find his eyes, but he’s too lost in your pussy to meet yours. What kind of witchcraft is he doing to make me feel this way?

His hands, resting on your lower back, scooch you closer to him. He doesn’t even have to move much for the both of you to feel elated, just a slight wiggle is enough for you to feel everything. You sit up on his thighs and grind your hips against him. “Your pussy,” he whispers between breaths, “so fucking good, kitten.”

Your cunt writhes with each little movement, you can feel yourself dripping onto him. “Ugh’m God!” you throw away your integrity and scream. “Jesus Xavier, oh my…” you trail off, rolling your eyes back and feeling him hit that sensitive spot again. Your tendons tightening, teeth grinding, and eyes shutting with every movement.  

You lean your chin on his head, still slightly rocking your hips, but unable to bring yourself to complete the motion from crushing alleviation. His forehead is perched on your shoulder as he tries shimmying around inside your pussy. He’s too far gone to form a sentence, too. He holds onto your back, rests his head on your shoulder and breathes rapidly onto your chest. His eyelashes give your collarbones light butterfly kisses while he blinks himself back into reality.

The song is at its climax when you take the initiative to try to finish, unsure if you can even bring yourself to conclude this little affair. You start grinding harder against him, both of you undoubtedly withholding groans to save face. You rock yourself on him harder and he finally allows himself to make eye contact with you again. A pleading look in his pool-of-blue eyes already tell you everything you need to know without saying a single word.

You fuck him as hard as you can burying your head into the crook of his neck. You take in the smell of his cologne, now mixed with sweat. It smells so good. He contributes by gyrating himself inside of you.

“Fuck!” the word weeps out without your consent. You feel yourself unwinding, again you feel it coming with each thrust, the shattering. “Oh, my fuck! Daddy, your cock is so f-fuck!” you’re crying, jumping on his rock-hard dick.

“Shit,” he seethes under you, grabbing your hips and guiding them into his cock. “You fuck me so good, baby girl,” he groans.

You jump on him, his dick so deep you think it’ll push on your belly. “Son of a- huh,” you breathe, feeling yourself starting to come. You keep beating up that tender spot deep in your cavity, providing it all the love it was once deprived and smacking it with each stimulating bounce on his cock. “Yesyesyesyes,” you don’t take a breath, “ooh there.” You keep pummelling him into you, Xavier is close too. “Right. Fucking. There,” you breathe between each jump.

You can’t get any words out when orgasm engulfs you. You stand up to prudently pull his length out of your clingy lips, giving your clit a rub before soaking his cock in your juices. “Shiiiiit,” you moan, squirting a clear liquid out of your hole and all over him, all over his van.

“Damn, baby,” he utters. You feel a single tear drop escape your eye and swat it away before he can see. Without a word, you insert him back into your, now soaked, hole; not leaving until you’ve made him come as hard as you did. You slide him back inside of you, his length hitting you all at once again. It seems to hit him hard too, because his face knots the deeper you insert him. “Fucking tight,” he sighs.

He pushes you to lay back again and starts hammering himself into you. You moan with his harder thrusts, feeling him fill you up makes you fall apart; your whole body feels weak. He can’t control himself, contorted moans escape from deep in his throat. “Where do you want daddy’s come?” he asks, trying to hold himself together, but fails miserably.

“Right in my dirty mouth,” you reply, licking up your bottom lip.

He rolls his eyes back, “Oh, fuck you,” he says with a slight laugh. His smile immediately dissipating to a twisted expression. You feel him coming to release, his grip on your arm gets tighter and he pounds harder into your pussy. He pulls himself out of you and jerks his long length above your face. You obediently open your mouth and lay your tongue flat for him to use up.

He takes a second, zealously jerking himself over you, until he empties his seed onto your tongue. You feel the warm liquid hit your tongue and immediately swallow it down for him. Pressing your lips to the tip of his cock, giving a suck to clean him up and a small kiss on the tip.

He breaths out an exasperated sigh and limply lays down on top of you. “Get off,” you giggle, “you’re crushing me.” He rolls onto his side beside you and you roll onto yours so you’re facing him. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers with a small frown. You grab his hand and band your fingers together, he smiles when you accept his invitation. A moment of silence is shared between the two of you, not awkward, just comfortable.

“You know you’re the only one,” he says, a slight crack in his voice. You lift an eyebrow in response. He looks down at the hand you’re holding onto, “Everybody that knows about that tape doesn’t believe me. They think I’m gay or… they just cast me out for even doing it in the first place,” he opens up, caressing your knuckle with his constricted thumb. You stay silent, letting him get it off his chest and studying the woe that washes over his face. “I don’t know,” he gives his head a slight shake.

“Fuck those people,” you shrug, “you don’t need them anyways.” His pillowy lips twist into a smirk. You use your free arm to prop up your head. “Besides,” you continue, “they don’t know what they’re missing. You snooze, you lose, right?”

He smiles. “I like you, y/n,” he sighs. “I’m not letting you slip through the cracks.”

You unbind your hands to move a piece of hair that was stuck to his forehead. “Don’t worry about me leaving, I have no where to go. I’m all yours, baby,” you say with a jokey tone, but you hope he takes you seriously. He’s usually easy to read, like an open book, but when his face turns neutral it’s agonizing to imagine what’s going on in that pretty head.

“So… you want to meet my friends?” he asks, breaking the silence.

You cock your head to the side. “Huh?”

“Come to Camp Redwood with me?”

~~~~

smallest fucking taglist:

@codyswhore @odongreentea @liliesandforgetmenots @avesatanormalpeoplescareme

[woshuaaa]

spoilers for BL3

i made some fixes for what i thought were weak points in-game. they personally made sense to me, feel free to tell me what yall think??

Maya, Ava and Krieg.

You meet maya on Athenas, and at some point along the way, she sidetracks a bit. 

“I have to go find my… friend. Yeah, lets call him that. He should be near the cemetery.”

You get to the cemetery where you’re greeted by the mountain of a psycho known as Krieg. He’s screaming about poop trains or ribcages or something along those lines.

“This is Krieg, he and I were crimson raiders a few years back.” “RIDING DEATH BOMBS TOGETHER!” “Speaking of which, Krieg, where’s Ava? You were supposed to keep an eye on her. In the library.” “RRRRGHGHH CONSTRAINTS OF A SKULL SPLITTER!” “I warned you Krieg. If she gets hurt it’s your fault. Come on vault hunter, this way.”

You continue through the rest of the mission as normal, but now there’s an extra occupant in maya and ava’s room. 

Upon killing the rampager, Ava shows up again, with Krieg trailing behind. Krieg could be less than interested and is just tossing rocks around.

You exit the vault and catch Maya scolding Krieg for not keeping Ava on the ship like she asked. Tyreen and Troy show up, and assume Krieg is just another psycho. “Hey there follower! You did good, capturing the Vault Thief and an extra siren! Should make you Eridium tier for that. You’ll be rewarded when we open the great vault.” Kreig cocks his head to one side in confusion, but for once is silent. 

Tyreen gets Ava by the throat and Maya has Troy in a chokehold, and Krieg is clearly confused on what to do as he looks back and forth between the two rapidly. Troy reaches up and grabs maya, and Krieg goes into a bloodlust, screaming and charging at Troy full speed. “Troy!” Tyreen shouts, dropping ava to rush to her brothers aid. When Krieg tackles Troy, maya drops, tattoos gone, and makes her way over to Ava. Troy and Tyreen get a grip on Krieg, with Troys robot arm wrapped around Kriegs neck. “Rule number one, follower: never betray the family.” Tyreen sneers through gritted teeth as she begins to drain krieg. “Krieg!” Maya screams, and she tries to run toward them, when Tyreen uses an energy pulse to send them flying back further. 

“Maya…. I.. love… you…” Krieg says as his eyes glaze over, and he turns into a husk, which quickly falls into a pile of dust. “No! Krieg!” Maya cries, tears streaming down her face. “Well, that takes care of that. Oh, eugh, ew, i think I got some psycho dust in my mouth, eugh, ew!” tyreen says, gagging. “Atlas! Ty, we gotta go!” Troy says, grabbing his sisters arm. They phase away as a squad of Atlas troops storm the vault, seeing nothing more than the three.

“Krieg…” Maya says sadly. 

“There’s nothing we could do, Maya. Lets get back to Santcuary.” Moze says.

“I know he meant a lot to you Maya, but we have to get out of here.” Amara says.

“He was a good hunter, but his time has come. We will mourn on Sanctuary.” Fl4k says.

“It’s sad lass, but there’s nothing we can do for him now. Let’s get you back to the ship.” Zane says.

>Upon rejoining Lilith on the bridge.

“Oh no, Maya, Tyreen got you too?” “Not Tyreen, it was that Troy douchebag.” Ava says. Maya can’t bring herself to speak. “Krieg… They killed him.” Ava says, staring down at her shoes. 

“Damn. I’m sorry Maya. I knew how close you two were. He was a psycho, but a good one at that. I can tell you for sure that he’s riding the shiniest of meat bicycles up in the stars, eh?” Lilith says, trying to comfort maya.

>After the mission is complete, maya has a side mission available.

“Krieg was one of the best of us, vault hunter, and I want to honor him as best I can. Can you head down to Pandora and see if he left any echo logs?”

Here you can find a few logs mentioning how he feels about maya semi-sanely. Maya seems to be oblivious to the clues that Krieg liked her, until you get to the end of the cave where there’s an echo next to a small box. 

“Maya. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. 

Your the tink to my turret, the bullet in my mag, the sister to.. My brother? Agh no that..that came out wrong. What I’m trying to say is… will you ride this meat bicycle with me, and be my wife?” The box opens, revealing a poorly made ring made of scrap steel. “Well, what did you find?” Maya asks. 

“Ill show you up on the ship.” the vault hunter responds. Upon returning to sanctuary, you meet up with maya in her quarters. “What is it you needed to show me vault hunter?” The vault hunter places the ring box on the table and the echo plays for maya, and the box opens on cue. 

“Oh Krieg, you crazy, beautiful bastard you.” Maya says, on the brink of tears. “Thank you for doing this, vault hunter. It means… it means a lot to me.” She pays you and you get a legendary grenade mod called Kriegs buzz axe, that turns your grenades into a buzz axe that gets hurled at enemies. It has red text that says “IM THE CONDUCTOR OF THE POOP TRAIN!”

The next time you see Maya on Sanctuary, she’s wearing the ring Krieg made on a chain around her neck.

Gaige the Siren

“Hey killer. I’ve gotten word that another former raider is in trouble. I need you to go down and check on her, will ya?”

>Player goes down to pandora and meets Gaige and Deathtrap, who are in the middle of an assault. Pain and Terror get ahold of her during the assault, and she’s to be sacrificed to the twins as an offering. During the last third of the fight against the Agonizer 9000, she ~somehow~ (Hint: siren powers) manages to free herself and summon Deathtrap, and helps you finish off the fight. 

“Thanks for helping me out there, VH. Man, I must be getting rusty on my badassery. I’ll meet you up on Sanctuary, hey?”

>Continue through the game as normal, along with some additional bits with Gaige catching up with Zero and Maya, and mourning the loss of Krieg. 

“Hey, you didn’t think I’d let you fight those assholes alone, didja?” Gaige says she’s coming down to help you fight Troy. “Gaige, you cant-” “Lilith, Imma be real with ya for a sec, and uh, no. Im going, and you can’t fuckin stop me. Kay? Kay.” “If you’re going, I’m coming down too. That douchebag killed Krieg, and I can’t… I can’t risk losing you too.” Maya says, and she clearly isn’t backing down. “I’m the leader of the raiders, and I’m not letting you two kill yourselves down there.” Lilith says, frustrated. 

You go down to the cathedral of the twin gods, and Maya and Lilith say theyll meet you there. Gaige helps you fight through the bandit hoards.

“You’re too late vault thief! Tyreen and I are opening the great vault, you cant stop us now!” Gaige taps on Troys shoulder, and he turns around. “Guess again, jackass.” Gaige slugs him in the face with her metal arm, and there it is revealed that she has blue tattoo’s travelling up her arm and shoulder on the left side, same as her metal arm. As she punches him, her white siren wings appear behind her, and a title card pops up introducing her as “Gaige: the Siren: (whaaaaaat?)”

Gaige helps you out throughout the fight, occasionally summoning deathtrap and using phase shift (“Excuting Phaseshift, BITCHES!”)  to allow small turrets to pop up along with ammo boxes.

At the end of the fight, Lilith and Maya appear, and as Troy dies, Maya regains her powers back. 

“Gaige, when were you gonna tell us about this?” Lilith demands. “Well ya see, when… Y’know with the whole laying-low thing, I… okay look I know this seems bad, but I couldn’t figure out a good time. I didn’t even know what was happening, and it didn’t happen right away! A few years later, when I was off planet and trying to figure out my next move one day and bam! There they were.” “But the question is, how?” “Angel and I… talked. We liked to talk. Its not like anything personal, but it was nice. She was my first friend, and… I-I didn’t want anything to happen to that.” “So angel chose you?” Maya asks. “No, I-I don’t think so anyways.” “Maya what are you talking about?” Lilith asks. “Before a siren passes, it’s said that she must choose an apprentice, someone to pass her powers onto, and if she doesnt, her powers will just play the genetic lottery. The bond you two had must’ve meant something to Angel too, and she chose you to carry her powers.” Gaige looks at the tattoo’s on her arm and shoulder with newfound meaning. 

Gaige is significantly more impacted by the Childhoods End quest, for obvious reasons.

Gaige continues to play the role that Tannis did.

Liliths death.

(to clarify, i really think it’s time for lilith to give up her role. she’s been the main focus in 2/3 games now, and i personally think that its time for her to step down and go out in a truly badass way.)

“It feels nice to have these powers back. Like greeting an old friend.” Lilith says. “Hey uh guys? I don’t think we’re in the clear yet! Elpis is still tearing pandora apart!” Gaige yells. 

“Run towards the fire.” Lilith looks over at Ava and Maya. “Be ready Ava.”

“Lilith, what are you doing?” “Lilith, no!” Maya and Gaige plead with lilith, but she ignores them and takes off soaring towards Elpis.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Maya yells.

“She’s closing the great vault.” Ava responds.

“Is she insane? That’ll kill her!” Gaige cries.

“That’s the idea.” Ava looks up at lilith as she reaches elpis. 

Lilith phases Elpis away, leaving behind her insignia.

“She’s dead… She’s really dead.” Maya says sadly. “Not quite. She’s still lighting the way.” Ava says.

Ava suddenly doubles over and begins to float. “Ava? Ava what the hell is going on?!” Gaige shouts. A sudden burst of energy comes from Ava, revealing the bright orange wings of the Firehawk, paired with the tattoo’s now running down Ava’s arm.

“Those tattoo’s suit you, Ava.” Maya says, resting a hand on Ava’s shoulder. “She chose right, I can say that much.” Gaige says with a gentle smile. “C’mon Guys, let’s get back to the ship.” Gaige says, making her way out of the vault. Maya follows, and as Ava goes to leave, she turns back around, looking up at the Blazing Phoenix above her head. “Thanks, Lilith.” Ava says softly. “Ava, cmon!” Maya shouts. “Coming!” Ava quickly runs back to catch up to the others.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

What Happens, Stays

The Nevada sky was ablaze as last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountains, casting the old stretch of desert highway in total darkness.  Not a single car had gone by in two hours, so the attendants of the Last Chance gas station prepared themselves for another long night of tedium.

Charlie had left his post at the register to meander aimlessly around the two aisles of concessions. The morning guy wasn’t clocking in until 4 AM, so he tried his best to keep himself entertained.  He started off the night by studying the Nutrition Facts on the back of candy wrappers, but soon grew tired of this little endeavor. Later, he began stacking boxes of store brand pop tarts into a makeshift pyramid, but again became bored.  With nothing left to clean or stock, Charlie made his way back to counter, stopping at the brochure display to examine a tourist map to Las Vegas.  His dad had always promised to take him to Vegas one day.

“When you grow up, kiddo.”

Charlie neatly folded the brochure and stuffed it in his uniform’s chest pocket.

He sat back down on his stool, groaning over its lack of back support, and reached under the counter for one of his boss’s dog-eared detective novels.  Older than most people he knew, the book’s pages were yellow and brittle, many of the corners having snapped off from being folded over a few times too many.  He wouldn’t admit it to any of his friends, but he had grown fond of these old pulp novels, his only source of entertainment besides the CCTV that hung in the far corner.  When he first started working here he would often make faces into the camera, watching himself on the TV like a child mugging into a funhouse mirror.  This pastime soon grew old, and while he had already read every book in Duke’s collection, he found himself returning to each of them every few weeks.

Duke was in the back room, the glorified supply closet he called an office.  He sat in an old lawn chair at the poker table he used as a desk, gong over the day’s receipts.  There weren’t many, but he had little else to do until morning.

“Hey Duke,” Charlie called, “I gotta go to the restroom, can you man the store?”

“You ain’t in high school no more, bud.  Don’t gotta ask permission to take a leak.”

Charlie grabbed the key to the men’s room and headed out to the cinder block hut next to the pumps. The women’s room key was attached to a comically large pair of sunglasses, while the men’s was chained to an old VHS tape with ‘Burning Man 91’ hastily scrawled across the yellowed masking tape.

Burning man.  There was another one his dad promised to take him to, years ago.

“Road trip, kiddo. Just me ‘n you, Chuckaroo.”

His dad made a lot of promises he never kept.

Charlie had barely left the store when he saw the RV, bouncing down the pothole covered road, making a beeline straight for the station.  Its headlights were off, but he could see through the windshields that the lights were on inside. Whoever was driving wasn’t slowing down, and for a second Charlie expected them to crash into the pumps.  Thoughts of a fiery death vanished as the RV’s brakes let out an otherworldly shriek, skidding to a precarious stop doubled parked just inches beside pumps 3 and 4. Charlie let out a sigh of relief and walked back into the station.

“Scratch that, boss,” he called, “customers.”  He retook his place at the register and adjusted the sign Duke had unceremoniously taped to the card reader.  NETWORK DOWN, CASH ONLY.  Charlie waited dutifully for the RV’s occupants, the engine knocking and pinging as it cooled off.

It’s door slammed open, adding another dent to its pockmarked exterior, and out fell a disheveled man.  Charlie figured he was a little older than himself, late twenties maybe.  He could hear voices yelling from inside the RV, but could only make out the man’s responses.

“No, absolutely not! Scott is going to get the gas, you stay put.  Fredo, do not let him out of this RV, I swear to God- Do not… Cause you’re a MESS, that’s why!”

Visibly seething, the man lumbered his way into the store, letting out a disgruntled hiss through gritted teeth the second the door closed behind him.  He stood there for a moment, eyes shut tight like a 12-stepper trying and failing to find his happy place, awakening from his rage induced trance only after Charlie set his book down with a near inaudible flop.  The man took a deep breath and glided over to the counter.

“Hey, listen, do you got, like, one of those… thingies...”

Charlie sat with concerned confusion as the man fumbled for the right word, physically grasping at the air with one hand.

“Handle. Purse.  Bag- Basket!  That’s the one.  Like a grocery basket, you got any of those?”

Charlie shook his head, a slight wince breaking across his face.  The man thanked him anyway and floated over to the fridge at the far end of the store.  He stood there, propping the door open with his body for much longer than Charlie was comfortable with, letting all the cold out.  Just as he was about to speak up, the man trudged back to the counter laden with a dozen bottles of water hugged tightly to his chest.  He placed them on the counter, and left to make another trip. He had soon cleared out the Zephyrhills and was working his way through the Aquafina when he nearly dropped his armful in shock as Duke exited his office.

“Hey bud, you think you can handle this? I’mma go take a leak myself.”

Both Charlie and the man stood frozen, following Duke with their eyes until he vanished into the bathroom hut.  With that, the man let out a loud sigh, not so much relieved as just tired, and made his way back to the register to finish his transaction.  He shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot as Charlie began adding up the total on a pocket calculator, a deafening silence filling the store.

“Eight-eight-three-five,” the man stated, unprompted.  Charlie didn’t know what he meant until he pressed enter, and saw that the man’s total was indeed $88.35 after tax.  “We also need 200 on pump… uh, which one is it... 3? 4? Whichever, I dunno.”

He reached into his pockets and pulled out a crumbled wad of cash, plopping down three $100 bills and continuing his nervous shifts as he waited for his change.  Charlie took the sweaty bills and splayed them out as flat as he could. He was about to mark them with the counterfeit pen when he noticed the feed on the CCTV had been cut.

“God damn it,” the man sighed.

The door flew open with a violent kick, and in stepped a man wearing a children’s Halloween mask, a pair of wire cutters in one hand, and a Smith & Wesson in the other.

“Don’t fucking move. Open the register right fucking now.”

“God damn it, Hank!” the first man yelled, “I told you to wait in the RV!”

Charlie was a deer in the headlights, standing there speechless with his hands up in front of him. The gunman’s only response was to level the weapon at his forehead, finger placed firmly on the trigger.  He reeked of alcohol, and much of it could be seen staining his t-shirt and jeans.  Charlie still didn’t move, but his breath quickened to short gasps.

Outside, two other men, presumably Scott and Fredo, were getting into a shoving match over whose job is was to watch who.  One of them stared in through the store window and violently waved for both his colleagues to pile back into the RV before something bad happened.  The other had a gun drawn and kept staring back and forth between the bathroom hut and the station.

The gunman pressed the barrel hard against Charlie’s trembling forehead.  Tears streamed down his face, and he was biting his lower lip so hard he nearly drew blood, but Charlie found himself unable to move his hands to the register like he desperately wanted them to.

“Hank, for Christ’s sake, will you put the gun down, man?  You don’t wanna hurt...” He squinted at Charlie’s name tag. “...Charles, do you?  No, of course not.  What you wanna do is head back to the GOD DAMN RV!“

Hank let out a long snort, and swallowed hard.  He cocked his slightly head to one side, but kept his bloodshot eyes locked on the weeping cashier.  Without lowering the gun, he took a step back, leaving a circular red mark where the barrel had been pressed against his head.

“Any day now, kiddo.”

“Fuckin’ ay Hank, stop it!”  The man haphazardly grabbed at the gun the same way one might try to take a drunk friend’s keys.  Then and only then did Hank lower it to the floor.

Charlie was ghost white, shaking uncontrollably from an adrenaline rush, trying is hardest not to hyperventilate.  The man shot him a desperate look that seemed to say I’m sorry my friend tried to murder you, and began nudging Hank back towards the door.  Hank didn’t move, legs planted firmly in place.  He stuffed the gun back in his belt, and walked over to the counter, never breaking eye contact with Charlie.  In one quick motion he snatched the folded-up brochure sticking out of his pocket.  After giving it a quick glance, he made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and another phlegmy snort.

“See you ‘round, Chuckaroo.”

He turned to exit, knocking over the pyramid of pop tarts with his shoulder as he stumbled out the door.

“Listen, I’m really sorry.” the man said once Hank was out of earshot. “Hey, I’m- this- just- sorry.  He’s, uh, he’s not all there.”  At this he mimed frantic jazz hands, trying to convey some sort of information, but unsure exactly what. He nodded, content with the point he didn’t make, and scooped up as many bottles of water as he could carry. “Just, uh, keep the $300. Sorry. Again, sorry.”

The four men piled into the RV, and Charlie could just make out a heated argument as they slammed the door and peeled out from the station without pumping an ounce of gas.  They continued north, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and a short trail of skid marks in their wake.

Charlie plopped back down on the stool and doubled over, head between his knees, throwing up a little in his mouth.  He grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser next to the hot dog warmer, and wiped away snot and tears as best he could, composing himself as Duke finally exited he men’s room, fanning the air in front of him as he walked back towards the store.

“Hey bud, you might wanna use the ladies’ room, I did something awful in there, it’s-” no sooner had the door closed behind him than he noticed things were off.  Charlie’s eyes were red, nearly glazed over into a thousand-yard stare.  There were boxes of pop tarts all over the ground, and bottles of water all over the counter.  He looked up at the CCTV and saw nothing but static.

“What the fuck?”

Charlie’s face was a stone mask, a million thoughts going through his head.  Before he could say anything, Duke trudged over to his storage office and came out with a large push broom.

“Hey, clean this up, will ya? I’mma go check out the raccoon nest by the camera.  They musta came back and chewed through the line again.”

Charlie flashed two thumbs up and nodded without a word.  With that, Duke went on his crusade.  Just as he suspected, the camera line was chewed straight through, but the little bastards were nowhere in sight.  He’d be sure to put more poison in the trash, though they’d gotten smart last time and picked around it.  Either way, it was an easy fix; he had more coaxial cable in the office.

He walked back inside, and Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell above the door started ringing.

“What’s eatin’ you, bud?”

“It’s... nothing, boss. I just finished another of your books, and... the ending really freaked me out.”

Duke didn’t buy a word of it, but he didn’t probe any further.  They had worked together for almost five years now, so he knew when Charlie needed some time to think his thoughts.

“We ain’t busy,” he said. “You can clock out early if you want, I got this.”

Charlie thanked him and made his exit, still shaking from the emotional roller coaster he’d just been through. He walked over to the beat up old muscle car his dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday.  That was the last time he’d seen him.  Six whole years had flown by like nothing.

The engine couched to life, and he made his way back to the highway, ready to go home and get some much deserved sleep.  In the distance, he saw two blinking yellow lights, just out of sync with one another, looping back and forth as they almost lined up.  When he got closer, he saw it was a rusted blue road sign, HIGHWAY ADVISORY, TUNE TO 1640 AM, URGENT MESSAGE WHEN FLASHING.  

Any other time he would have ignored this, it was usually just warning about a car crash some fifty or sixty miles away, but tonight he tuned in.  He caught the tail end of a police report asking listeners to call the crime stoppers tip hotline, before it started again from the top.

There was a bank robbery in San Diego a few days ago, a big job, millions of dollars, and the four perps managed to up and disappear.  The FBI had identified the suspects via facial recognition, and the announcer listed off their names and descriptions, before again urging people to come forward with any tips that may lead to their arrest.  Repeat.

Charlie must have listened to the message five or six times, and without thinking he had pulled out his phone and typed in the hotline number. He paused at the last second, thumb hovering forlornly over the dial button, and he eased on the brakes, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the road.  His headlights were the only ones for miles, the only other signs of civilization being the blinking road sign and the fluorescent glow of the gas station some ways behind him.  The rest of the world was bathed in shadow, a dark sagebrush sea that stretched to the invisible mountains on the horizon.

His apartment was a little south of the station, but after some deep thought, he turned off his phone and threw it into the passenger seat, before making a three point turn and heading north on Route 95.  He soon passed another rusted road sign which told him Las Vegas 58 Miles.

His eyes kept darting to the phone beside him, so he tossed it into the backseat.  He knew he would probably regret this later, but right now nothing else mattered to him.  He blew by the Last Chance gas station, and figured the RV couldn’t have made it even halfway to Vegas if they were running on empty.  He’d filled up his own tank before he clocked in for his shift, so he was good to go; he’d catch up to them in no time.  He gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

“Just me ‘n you, dad.”

[drawingsdrawingseverywhere]

Trollhunters Dadswap AU part 17

Here it is guys. The day has come.

it’s time for the grit-shaka madness to begin

Strickler, growing more concerned about the Bridge and it’s construction, takes the day off from school and gets Nomura to help him with research. With Strickler out of the classroom, however, that leaves Jim, Toby, Claire, and the rest of the class stuck with a movie day. Not so bad since it’s Gun Robot 3, but terrible since it gives everyone the opportunity to gossip about the upcoming rehearsal.

Jim and Toby are just talking about it when Toby notices the Grit-Shaka in Jim’s bag.

“Dude you’re not really going to wear that, are you?”

“Of course not! I just.... have it for backup! Is it cool if we don’t talk about this? I’m nervous enough as it is.”

“You wouldn’t be so nervous if you ever actually talked to Claire.”

“Pff, as if. I don’t want to risk her hating me again.”

“rule number 1, Jim my man.”

Jim gives him a look and Toby backs off.

“Ok ok, fine. What do you wanna talk about?”

“I don’t know.... how about your new roomie?”

“You mean AAARRRGGHH!!! ? He’s doing fine! We uh... had a little incident with the power washer, but everything’s going great! He’s adapted pretty well to my room, and he hasn’t scared Nana at all!”

“An incident with the power washer?’ what happened?”

“well, it turns out those things are REALLY strong. When I got knocked off of my feet, he didn’t know what to do to turn it off, so he just bit down on the hose nozzle. Needless to say, that didn’t end well.”

“was everyone ok?”

“yeah don’t worry. We both got pretty soaked, but no one got hurt. Think I’m gonna ask Draal if he and his dad have any suggestions. There’s no way I’m gonna wash that guy by hand. I don’t think he’d be willing to sit in a kiddie pool long enough for me to do so either.”

“surprised he hasn’t eaten all your Nana’s cats yet.”

“He tried, but after I told him that humans keep em as pets, he backed off. I have a suspicion my missing VHS tapes are what he chose to eat as an alternative.”

“Well, here’s hoping Angor Rot can convince Vendel to get that mark off him soon.”

“yeah. Maybe i can start giving him some lessons in troll manners. It could help his case, after all.”

“Troll manners,’ Toby?”

“Yeah! Like I ask him what he does in a certain situation, and teach him the proper response! Like ‘if someone is standing in your way, what do you do?’ kinda stuff. Who knows, he might be a fast learner.”

It’s then that Mary accuses Jim of taking her seat, forcing him to sit beside Claire. Jim looks desperately over at Toby, who simply shrugs and mouths ‘talk to her.’ Of course Jim sits there in silent panic for a few moments before looking down in his bag again.

reluctantly, Jim puts on the grit-shaka. Surely it couldn’t hurt to have a little confidence boost, right?

Cue the worst day ever, in which Jim uses the word ‘crispy’ to a cringing degree, ruins rehearsals, and even goes so far as to try to break into the school cafeteria and take all the ice cream sandwiches. All that madness and more.

So of course Toby goes to get help from Strickler and Angor Rot. 

Strickler is hard at work researching any clues he can decipher to locate the bridge when Toby runs in. Nomura looks up from her own book, and Angor Rot skides down the ladder.

“Strickler! It’s Jim!”

Strickler is instantly up.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is it Heimdrel?”

“No no no, he got this totem thing from Bular, and he’s been acting crazy all day! He keeps using the word ‘Crispy,’ and doesn’t care about others, and has just overall been a really big turd!”

Strickler glances over at Nomura and Angor Rot before looking back at Toby.

“This totem Jim got from Bular, it wouldn’t happen to be called a ‘Grit-Shaka,’ would it??”

“yeah that’s it!”

Strickler runs out.

“Nomura, keep looking! I’m sure we’ll find a lead soon! Angor, Toby, let’s go!”

By the time they find him, Jim is about to let a troll tattoo artist hammer into his arm.

“make it weep.”

Strickler snatches the chisel from the troll.

“have you lost your mind?” he turns to the artist, speaking respectfully, “my apologies, if you could give us just a moment.”

“hey guys! You’re here! Are you getting a tattoo too? *gasp* LET’S ALL GET MATCHING TATTOOS”

“We are doing no such thing, Jim!”

“Strickler, my man, chill. It’s just a tattoo!”

“That is not the problem here! You are wearing a troll artifact, and you don’t even know what affects it could be having on your delicate psyche!”

“My delicate Psyche? Oh you mean this? Pretty cool right? I’ve never felt better in all my life! I gotta see what other cool jewelry Bular’s people make!”

“They are not jewlers, Jim! They are a vicious war band, who use artifacts such as the one on your neck to become literal killing machines! It is not for human use!”

“killing machines, huh? Well now I really need to talk to Bular about getting me some more totems! Think of how much more effective I could be if I didn’t fear anything!”

“That goes directly against rule number one of being the trollhunter and I will not just sta-”

Jim grabs Strickler’s shoulder and makes him lean down.

“Strickler, Strickler listen. I don’t care. Ok? What are you gonna do? Fail me in Trollhunters class?”

Angor Rot tries to fix the situation.

“Jim, it is important to be afraid when facing trolls. A warrior who is over confident, or lacks any and all fear, often die very quickly. Trolls have no pity for the arrogant.”

Strickler holds out his hand.

“Jim, I demand that you hand over the Grit-shaka.”

Jm backs up

“no way, man! I already told you! I have never felt better! I’m fine! What are you afraid I wont be able to handle being a killing machine?”

“Jim, as your trainer, I insist that you hand it over.”

“no!”

Jim makes a run for it. Summoning the amulet and narrowly evading capture by his friends.

“I’ll show you!” Jim summons his sword. “I’ll show all of you! I’m gonna take down Heimdrel! Then you’ll see! I don’t need your stinking training when I got this baby on my side!”

Before anyone can catch him, Jim disappears into the market.

“where could he have gone?”

“well obviously he’s going after Heimdrel, didn’t you hear him?”

Strickler looks down at Toby, eyes narrowed and clearly not in the mood for sass.

“Sorry.”

“He does not know where Heimdrel is,” Angor Rot folds his arms, “how does he intend to find him?”

Toby thinks it over.

“I think I know where he’s going.”

Toby runs to Claire’s house and gets the attention of Notenrique.

“Ey! You’re gonna blow my cover!”

“Did you tell Jim where to find Heimdrel?!”

“Sure did.”

“WHY?!”

“If he wants to kill himself, who am I to stop him?”

“Where is he going?”

“And why should I tell you? you gonna run down there and try to stop him? Good luck Chubby-Chaser!”

“just tell me where he is!”

“no! Now get outta here before someone notices!”

“I’ll give you yesterday’s gym socks if you’ll tell me where to find him!”

Meanwhile down in the sewers, Jim is gallantly marching through. Making all kinds of noise. Throwing threats to the air. all that horrible stuff. He of course gets a Goblin’s attention, who scurries off to inform Heimdrel of the situation.

Back up top Toby is running through the town, checking every sewer drain he can to find Jim.

Down below, Toby told Strickler and Angor Rot where Notenrique sent Jim. Strickler is running through checking every hall he can, and Angor Rot is using his staff to check all the hidden places he can think of.

Jim spots a goblin and runs after it, turning a corner and seeing another. It says something in their goblin language and then laughs. Jim prepares his sword to strike when he hears the sound of metal against stone. Heimdrel turns the corner- his sword digging into the sewer wall and making a clear mark.

“There you are, you big ugly brute!”

Heimdrel eyes Jim a moment, locking his gaze on the Grit-Shaka.

“A Gumm-Gumm totem.... Now i see why you so foolishly came down here.”

“That’s right, Heimdrel. It’s the end for you!”

Heimdrel laughs darkly.

“You are just a whelp.”

“No, Heimdrel, I am your doom!”

With that Jim charges forward, swinging his sword wildly. Heimdrel parries and Overpowers Jim’s attack. Jim lands one hit on Heimdrel’s arm and let’s out a triumphant laugh as the much larger Troll backs away for a moment.

“had enough?”

Heimdrel looks up at Jim, the wound caused by the sword suddenly healing and crystallizing over.

“Far from it.”

“you can regenerate????”

“I can do so much more than just that, boy.”

Heimdrel charges back forward and the fight continues.

Jim goes for a low blow and swings at Heimdrel’s legs, But that’s when Heimdrel does a quick spin, his drape of feathers confusing and breaking Jim’s focus. it’s then that when Heimdrel completes his turn that Jim sees Heimdrel has using his cape to hide the fact he was preparing to kick.

Before Jim can dodge or block, Heimdrel’s foot slams directly into him, sending him flying and causing his sword to dig into the sewer floor a few feet off. Jim looks up to find the grit-shaka missing from his neck. He looks up to see it between him and Heimdrel.

“oh no!”

Heimdrel crushes it beneath his foot, breaking it’s effects on Jim. He laughs darkly, raising his sword in the process.

“oh yes”

Jim makes a run for his sword. Heimdrel leaps after him. Jim rolls and grabs his sword, just barely having enough time to spin around and block Heimdrel’s strike. Jim backs away fearfully and Heimdrel’s smile grows more wicked as he walks towards Jim like a predator.

“you know, I’ve seen someone look at me like that before. The last surviving Tyreta besides myself. I saved him for last.”

Heimdrel raises his sword and narrows his eye in delight.

“His screams will be nowhere near as delicious as yours.”

Just as Heimdrel swings his hand down, the manhole above them swings open. Heimdrel’s actual arm hits the sun ray and he backs away with a howl of agony. Toby looks into the scene.

“Jim!”

“Toby! Where on earth am I? How did I get here???”

Heimdrel growls as his arm heals and he begins to circle the ray of light Jim is now trapped in.

“Afraid, Trollhunter? Good. It will make my victory all the sweeter when the amulet is finally mine.”

It’s then that Strickler and Angor Rot find the chamber Heimdrel and Jim are currently in. They run forward to help when a swarm of goblins strike them- one opening another manhole so Angor Rot cannot safely pass through. Toby reaches in.

“Jim! Take my hand!”

Jim of course tries to jump high enough to reach but the armor of daylight is too heavy. Heimdrel drags his sword across the ground, sharpening it and preparing to strike.

"A shame we did not face each other on a true battlefield, but perhaps a coward’s death is all that you deserve.”

Jim looks up at Heimdrel’s sword as he raises it once more to deliver a final blow, and the wheels in his head begin to turn. From behind Heimdrel he can see Strickler has made it through and is drawing knives from his mantle.

Heimdrel swings his arm to strike, when At the same time a handful of Strickler’s knives dig into his back. The troll howls in anger and pain, his posture shifting and turning to face his attacker. Jim dodges the attack and watches the situation carefully. Heimdrel tries to turn to face Strickler, but realizes his sword is stuck in the cement. The Executioner roars and pulls at his arm to try and un wedge it from the ground. Jim and Strickler seem to have a silent conversation, and the second Heimdrel is about to free his sword Strickler and Jim both run towards it.

Jim lands on the sword and uses Heimdrel’s strength to catapult himself up to reach Toby’s hand, and Strickler uses his own strength to jump high enough to reach the street above. As Strickler climbs out, he returns to his human disguise before anyone sees him, and Toby begins to pull Jim up as fast as he can, soon having Strickler available to help.

Heimdrel yells something in a trollish language furiously as they pull him out, and moments after they escape and cover the manhole Heimdrel’s fist punches it open one time before it’s finally over.

“Tobes, what happened today? All I can remember is being in History class and watching Gun Robot.”

“it’s uh... it’s been a long day for all of us. Why don’t we... talk about it later... but just know.... you’ve been a giant turd all freaking day.”

Jim smiles at Toby and Toby smiles at Jim and Strickler helps the two exhausted teens onto their feet before a car honks at the trio.

“Promise me you’ll never do this again, you hear me? That goes for you as well, Toby.”

“Promise. No more Gumm-Gumm totems for me.”

“And I don’t plan on ever trying one. Today has been proof enough for me.”

“Good. Now, let’s get out of the street and back to Trollmarket. I’m certain Angor Rot is already waiting for us there.”

Later on at the Hospital, Barbra is preparing to head home when she is stopped by another Doctor.

“Hey Barbra, do you have a minute to speak with me?”

“Certainly, doctor. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for all the hard work you’ve been doing as of late. Things have been pretty crazy around here, and I’m glad we have someone like you on staff.”

“it’s the least I can do. Helping people is what Doctors are supposed to do, after all.”

“of course. Since you’ve been so active lately, I wanted to inform you of a new addition to our staff. It’s taken us months to convince him to finally transfer here, but I hope you get along with him. Do you have time for me to introduce you to each other before you head out?”

Barbra puts her coat on but smiles.

“I’m sure I have some time on my way out.”

“perfect.”

Barbra and her associate head towards the elevators and stop at the help desk where a rather large man with a metal cane is speaking to one of the Nurses on staff. He turns his head when he notices the pair approach- a warm smile appearing on his face. The head doctor holds his hand out to the man in presentation.

“Barbra, I’d like you to meet Bhaltair McLaine. He just transferred in from Scotland and will be taking over this department. Bhaltair, meet Barbra Lake. She’s one of the best we have here.”

Bhaltair smiles and holds his hand out to Barbra, and when she returns the gesture his handshake is firm but gentle.

“Pleasure to meet you, Bhaltair.” Barbra smiles. “I look forward to working with you.”

“No no, miss,” Bhaltair’s smile grows even wider as the two finish their handshake, and he gently adds his other hand to the gesture and lightly pats her hand in a comforting manner. “the pleasure is all mine. I’ve heard many things about you and your son.”

He finally frees her hand and lightly taps his cane on the ground. “I have a feeling you and I are going to be very good friends.”