#he's ashtray fan no. 1

[honeycollectswhump]

Taste

[masterlist]

i dont want to spoil anything...... but just know that @whumpcloud and me have been so insane about him in the dms. so now there is something planned for Ashtray my beloved :D

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, cigarette burns (it's a tame drabble i promise)

Today is a good day for his Mistress and her happiness is almost palpable for Ashtray. She is as disciplined as always, but Ashtray has come to recognise the pleased lilt in her voice that shows a smile, even if he isn’t allowed to look at her. Her hand gently rests on his head and the way she occasionally twirls a lock around her fingers makes Ashtray’s heart flutter in his chest.

If he allows himself to guess for a moment, Ashtray knows the guest in the chair right across from them is to be thanked. He and his black suitcase full of hidden things that made his Mistress giggle even before they were revealed.

Even better, her new guest bought cigars as a gift, chunky brown ones that hit all the right spots for his Mistress, yet Ashtray has never seen before, has never been prepared for. 

His opinion –if he dares to call it that– never matters, but the thick smoke that fills the room makes his eyes sting.

Against his better judgment, Ashtray blinks repeatedly, too conscious of the way tears start to collect. He needs to get a grip on his body and he needs to get it now. 

His mistress doesn’t want tears today. For once, he isn’t on display but obediently knelt right next to her, head bent down. In a way, it’s his saving grace that she can’t see the way his body stupidly struggles against the smoke. 

Briefly, his Mistress lets go of his hair to ring a bell, the one sitting on a silver plate, with her servants at her beck and call. Ashtray only sees them sometimes, when he’s too sick to take care of what little duties he already has, when they look after infected wounds he can’t reach on his own. Otherwise, he is kept separate from them, with only the barest idea of their lives. 

After a short while, one of the servants enters, carrying two trays full of desserts. Ashtray can see intricately decorated, bite-sized cupcakes, rows of colourful macarons, candied fruits and glasses full of soft mousse and berries. 

The curiosity is there for only a moment, disappearing into the void in his mind that obedience creates. He only exists to serve and when his Mistress presses the cigar against his neck and lets it sizzle, he leans into it to show his gratitude.

With a slight, graceful flick of her wrist, she beckons Ashtray over to the guest. He complies –of course–, crawling over and tilting his head to bare his neck. The pain barely registers in Ashtray’s mind over the angel-like laughter of his Mistress, as the guest ruffles his hair. He’s appreciative of the touch, even if it’s not the one he desires most, the one he lives for.

Dutifully, Ashtray crawls back to his beloved Mistress, taking his place right at her side, his gaze trained on the ground. With his purpose fulfilled once again, he can allow his mind to drift, carried away by the pleasant drift of unintelligible conversation, only to come reeling back into his body, as his Mistress snaps her fingers.

Ashtray’s blood turns to ice, he knows what this means, he knows the pain of the correction that is nothing like the delightful burn of a cigarette. There is not a single doubt in his mind that this will bring on Punishment.

But when he looks up, the flickering light in his Mistress’ eyes hasn’t turned cold, it still dances in the candlelight, and in her hands, she holds a bite-sized piece of cake, repeating a word again and again. Ashtray blinks at her, confused, as she holds the cake out towards him, taking a few moments to understand.

He’s not usually talked to, and it’s even rarer that his Mistress cares to make herself clear to a simple object like Ashtray. But this time it seems she wants him to learn. 

“Treat” is what she is saying, and although there is always a bit of doubt with his untrained ears and comprehension, he adds it to his own personal Collection of Words.

“Treat” is what Ashtray thinks as he submissively opens his mouth so that his Mistress can feed him the piece of cake. 

The Treat has a wonderful texture, all but melting in Ashtray’s mouth, unimaginably creamy and soft at the same time. Even in his wildest dreams, Ashtray wouldn’t have been able to come up with such a delicacy. A far cry from the kibble-like food and nutrients he is usually sustained on.

He’s thankful –of course– but Ashtray just wishes he could taste the Treat, even if only to better appreciate the gift. But that hasn’t been possible in a long, long time.

Not after what his Mistress did to his tongue.

taglist: @whumpsday let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

[hopelessromanticwh0re]

20:40

One of the most exciting days for you was always when Vernon came back home after weeks or sometimes months on tour. He would sweep you into the biggest, warmest hug, making you feel whole again. You’d spend hours catching up, talking about the tour, how much you missed each other, and the new foods he’d tried while he was away. To top it all off, you’d always go on a date that same day—usually something silly and fun like the arcade or bowling.

However, today was different from your usual routine. Vernon came home looking tired, but there was something else, too—something that seemed to be weighing on him. The hug that usually melted all your worries away felt short and distant. Instead of heading to your shared room to talk, Vernon quietly slipped off his old clothes, threw on some basketball shorts, and lay down on the bed, face halfway buried in the pillow.

You followed him, sitting on your side of the bed and looking at your boy.

“Baby,” you said softly, giving him a gentle shake. Vernon turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, and his pink lips set in a pout.

“Bub, you okay?” you asked, stroking his fluffy brown hair.

“Just sleepy,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” you replied, and he nodded.

“Sleep well,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, bub,” he murmured, finally closing his eyes completely.

Vernon ended up sleeping longer than you expected, and eventually, you drifted off as well. When you woke up, it was around 1 a.m., and you noticed Vernon wasn’t beside you. You found him on the patio, smoking a blunt in silence. He didn’t smoke often, but when he did, you knew something was wrong.

“Baby,” you said quietly from the doorway. Vernon sat on a chair, his elbows on his knees, the blunt in his right hand. He turned his head to look at you.

“Hi, Princess,” he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You walked over, straddling his lap and burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much today,” he whispered, rubbing your back.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, your voice soft.

“What’s the matter, baby?” you asked, lifting your head to look into his eyes. Vernon placed the blunt in the ashtray and shook his head.

“Love, you can tell me,” you encouraged, bringing your hands from his neck to his hair. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He took a deep breath before speaking. “I think I want to go back private,” he said, looking into your eyes. You paused for a moment, waiting to see if he had more to say.

“That’s fine,” you replied without hesitation.

“I saw the way people were talking in your comments the other day,” he continued.

A few days ago, you had posted a picture of you and Vernon before he left for tour. Some fans were upset, leaving hurtful comments, but you hadn’t taken them to heart. Vernon knew that things like this didn’t usually bother you, but he still didn’t like that it was happening. He had also received a bunch of messages about the post from fans.

“And I’m so sorry you have to see all those mean things just because I’m your boyfriend,” he said, his sad brown eyes looking up at you. He rested his head on your chest, and you gently played with his hair.

“And I don’t want to be a bad boyfriend and not protect you from that kind of stuff,” he added.

“Oh, baby, don’t apologize,” you soothed, still running your fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty because of other people’s actions.”

“But if I was a regular guy, you wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff,” he murmured.

“Maybe, but I knew what I was getting into when you asked to be my boyfriend,” you reassured him.

“I just feel like a bad boyfriend for putting you through that,” he said, sounding slightly upset.

“You’re not a bad boyfriend. You’ll never be a bad boyfriend,” you said gently, trying to calm him down.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive,” you affirmed. “But, baby, if you feel this way, we can go back private—just me and you.”

“Yeah?” he asked quietly, looking at you with hope in his eyes.

“Of course,” you said, smiling at him.

Vernon wrapped his arms around you even tighter, placing tender kisses on your neck and up to your cheek.

“You’re truly the most perfect girl in the world,” he whispered in your ear. “Like, seriously, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“I’d do anything for you, baby, and you know that,” you said before kissing his soft lips. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“I didn’t like sharing you that much anyway,” he teased, making you laugh. He smiled at the sound of your laughter.

“I love you so much, Princess,” he whispered near your ear, his voice filled with affection.

“I love you too, bub,” you replied, giggling at his ticklish kisses.

That night, you both decided to take a step back from the public eye. You deleted all your posts with Vernon and made your account private. Vernon deleted his post with you and logged off Instagram for a while.

It was just you and him, back to where you both felt most at peace.

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

okay so im back yet again. I wrote this like a month ago while I was listening to Mac miller and like came up with this idea idk. im not sure if it like my best work or even its a good idea in general, but yk it whatever. I hope you liked it guysss ily sm and thank for reading ofcc LOVE YAAA 🩷!! (also this was not proof read sooo sry if I fucked up somewhere)

[slippinninque]

Fontaine likes pretty things

(and yes, that includes you too)

Soo, I don't even know where this came from? Maybe two things.

I just imagined Fontaine seeing something and going 'my baby would look good in that shit'.

And Fontaine would be his lady's #1 fan. Like, no questions asked.

(I also feel like he'll have some unconventional likings, y'know? i don't know lmao it's late)

I'm not sure how long it is, but I sure hope you enjoy it! All feedback appreciated!

warnings: 18+, cursing, use of the n-word, smoking, over all rambling of a sleep deprived writer

Your hair was finally the way you wanted.

Taking a step back, you couldn't resist putting your hands on your hips and muttering to yourself,

"Well, damn it he was right."

You looked good.

Plumb purple and soft, the lace basque was dotted with shimmering golden beading. The sweeping pattern accentuated the softness of your middle, the shapeliness of your thighs.

It wasn't that you didn't like your body, lingerie just made you feel...pressured to look perfect. This was different, though. Way different. You even added a spritz of your favorite perfume

The delicateness of the fabric had you nervous to put it on, but now that you were encased in it--you felt sensual. You felt--

"You gonna come out here and lemme see?"

You jumped and answered reflexively, "Yes!"

Fuck.

Before you could stall any longer, you left the bathroom and followed the low sound of music to the front room.

Fontaine made a noise like he felt something good just by looking at you.

He sat in the armchair puffing on a blunt as he rolled another, little clouds crowning him as he took his fill of you.

Fontaine took charge as soon as you came home from work. He had dinner waiting and a bath, only asking that you wear what was in the box that was placed on the sink's counter.

You came close enough to touch, "Well?"

Fontaine hummed and tilted his head to meet your gaze with open look of smug desire, "Don't 'well' me, girl. You like it, right?"

You bunched up your lips, looking around the living room with a neutral hum. You couldn't make it too easy for him.

He reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles along the lacey designs before him, "You said to me that if I got you something that you fuck with, I can get as much of it for you as I wanted."

Ah, fuck. "I did, I-I did say that."

"So that means...what?"

You felt the smile but aimed it up at the ceiling, "Means I can't say nothing but thank you when you bring it to me."

"Hn. Bet you didn't think your man was gonna know what you like?" Fontaine made a show of shaking his head, as if disappointed.

"Oh stop, it ain't gonna stop you from rubbing it in." You said, waving him away.

"Damn straight."

Fontaine slipped the blunt between your fingers, distracting you long enough for him to reach onto the side table to grab a thin box.

Your eyes widened as you watched him pluck off the top of the box to show glittering, matching stockings.

With that box in his lap, Fontaine looked up at you and wore that his best 'please, baby' face--completed by a kiss to your stomach.

What else could you do? You nod and took pull.

"That's my girl."

Fontaine deftly rolled the first stocking down and when you stepped into it, he gently fitted the fabric up your calf. His wide hand smoothed up from your ankle to your thigh, attaching the small clasp of the basque.

When he leaned in to nip at the fabric stretched over your knee, you realized the gold beading matched his grills. Rubbing his cheek in the same spot, you shivered when you felt his beard tug.

You hit the blunt hard a few more times before leaning over him to flick it into the ashtray. Fontaine inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume and groaning softly.

'This man is out of control.'

"These go fuckin' perfect." His words brought you out of your head, "Pretty, pretty girl."

Fontaine always touched you with absolute focus and this time was no different. Helping your other foot into the stocking and clasp, rubbing and kneading your skin until the praises he muttered melted you down.

"You look so fucking good, baby." his voice was rougher than it had been all night, "Ain't nothing pinching? Anythin' feel loose?"

"It feels good. I really do like it, 'Taine, promise."you said as you went into his lap and looped your arms around his neck, "I want to know what else you want to see me in."

Fontaine ran a hand along your flank, "Maybe...Maybe some heels."

"Mhm. I'd wear them for you." You struck your legs in your best attempt at a pin-up pose and watched Fontaine's eyes trace the line "I want the ones with the little pom-pom. Y'know, classy."

Fontaine bounced you in his lap in protest, " 'Course you would. I wanna see that ass in them-in them pointy shits. What are they called?"

"Pointy shits."

Fontaine smacked his lips and you shrugged a shoulder, reaching for the blunt again. Fontaine grabbed the one he tucked behind his ear in time to share a flame with you.

You watched him watch you, unable to stop the grin from forming as he ran his finger tips over beads and lace.

"So...you're going to stare at me all night?"

That grin slipped and gave way to an open look of hunger. Fontaine's hold turned into a soft grip, pulling you closer to him so he could finally kiss you. Slow, searing, promising--over too soon.

When he pulled back, he pressed his cheek to yours.

"Go in our room and put on the pink one. I'll tear that shit up off you--this one's my favorite."

You jerked back, blinking at him.

Now you knew this man was about to be on, but maybe you could beat him there...

You were up on your feet and hurrying to the bedroom and Fontaine was only a beat behind you.

[pantherxrogers]

here’s a master list of (most of) my work. it’s a work in progress, but I’ll try to keep it updated! 😚

last updated on: 10.03.2024

anything with a ✮ is smut, so minors dni

currently writing for: ateez, bts, and seventeen

All kpop stories are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. These stories are created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

requests are open. please read the rules below!

do not ask for smut unless your age is in your bio. this blog is 18+ anyway!

please do not ask me to write multiple parts. i loooove writing for you guys, but i can't guarantee that i'll finish a series once i start it 😅

have fun with your requests! i love hearing about what you guys would like to read! 🫶🏾

i won't write: a/b/o, member x member, race play

Seonghwa

sugar daddy!Seonghwa

Yunho

sugar daddy!Yunho yunho comes home earned it ✮

San

sugar daddy!San ✮ your IG story w/ foodie!San san showing love on IG idol!san and singer!reader saddle up ✮ unforgettable pt. 2 happy birthday sannie ✮

Mingi

sugar daddy!Mingi

Wooyoung

after the game ✮

OT8

bf!ateez with a shorter reader

Xu Minghao aka The8

always be my baby the birthday girl (+mingyu) ✮ after hours

Wonwoo

make a wish

Jun

poolside service ✮

Vernon

alpha!vernon blurb

Lee Chan aka Dino

untitled blurb ✮ virgin!dino ✮ kinktober blurb ✮

Kim Taehyung aka V

fantasy ✮

Luca (The Bear) x Reader

You're #1 to Me ✮ Dating Luca (Headcanon) ✮ Late Night Luca thoughts Missing You ✮ Are You In 1 ✮ 2 ✮ 3 ✮

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Spoiled ✮ Safe Place ✮ Man of the House ✮

Fezco x Reader

When he’s sick What does Ashtray think of Fezco’s girlfriend? Fezco being a 🍑 guy First Kiss Don’t Worry About Me: Part 1 2✮ 3 Christmas Shopping Caught Red Handed ✮ When Rue comes around Meeting Fezco for the first time at his store Seeing Red Like a Pillow ✮ Forbidden Love AU First Makeout Fezco the fighter

Oscar (Spooky) Diaz x Reader

Two Years Later 1 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

When the party’s over Returning home after a mission

Loki x Reader

Alone Time

M’Baku x Reader

The Argument

[canaidliafail]

stay grounded pt.2

streamer Abby anderson x streamer reader 🌿

[part 1] [part 3]

TW: weed & poor usage of the english language. MDI

quick note: HUUUUGE thank you to all the comments and reblogs and asks 🥹🤲🏻 I never thought I would get to experience such overwhelming support regarding my silly lil fics so Im very grateful and hope you enjoy the upcoming parts just as much

24 full hours passed until the moment you were almost ready to open her message. You didn’t know what to say or what she was going to ask. You liked the message there because what if the conversation just didn’t go well? What if she was reaching out to complain about your fans ? or what if…well just

what if

You checked the time and then your phone.Depending on where she lived you either were about to respond way too early or way too late and that mattered to you a lot because you needed to have excuses made accordingly for he lack of responding

“she is at the gym” or “she’s probably asleep”

“heyyyy :)” you typed the response and stared at it for a hard minute. Was it childish? no it was fine, it seemed friendly

you erased it and typed a “hi :)”

no now I seem passive aggressive

you erased it again and typed a “heyy” and pressed send before you could overthink that as well. Your eyes were glued on the screen and you almost forgot to blink. After a few minutes you exited the convo and pretended you were busy re-organizing the furniture in your living room and sweeping the surface of the coffee table. Your phone pinged and you lunged yourself on the couch grabbing it and looking at who texted you

It was June who sent you a link to a tiktok.

june: check this out!!!

kys

you typed annoyed and she sent a crying face with a series of messages complaining about how much of a bully you were. You opened your ps4 and decided to continue playing valhalla

your fingers started to twitch and you kept clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth stressed. You needed a distraction so in the spur of the moment you posted a story announcing you would be doing a casual stream playing valhalla in 30 minutes and went to roll a blunt while preparing everything.

you checked your phone one last time to see that your message was still left unopened and you feared it would stay that way.

“fuck snap out of it” you whispered rubbing your temples and taking one last slow drag. You carefully put the blunt on your moon shaped ashtray and left it on the living room along with your phone which was on mute.

You did your makeup and checked yourself ok the monitor a couple of times making sure everything looked right from every angle and looked at the mirror at the side of your computer checking your posture and how the clothes you chose sat on you.

You went for the disheveled look with a baggy T and sweat’s structured in a way that looked messy. You would never admit that this carefree “breezy” look took you a good few hours to perfect

you finally turned on your stream and waited for the majority of people to tune in “Hey everyone!”

you greeted them and started reading through the comments while discreetly checking yourself in the viewfinder so that your jaw stayed sharp and your hair in tact

“Hi nice to have you back Grim!” you tried to engage in longer conversations with names you saw pop up frequently in your streams and 20 minutes in you sat back and went to open your game

“alright I don’t have much time today but I thought we could hang out while I go do some tasks in valhalla. I wanna clear out some regions”

you went back and forth from your game screen to your chat occasionally replying but mostly reacting to the game

“Oh that Eivor figure ? Yes so as much as I want it I just can’t justify a purchase like that yet…But hey its on my wishlist so I owe a date to anyone who gets it for me” you said with a soft chuckle and then paused the game to throw out a disclaimer

“seriously though don’t- I, I mean sure do that if you want to but I know kost of you are college students so please don’t throw your money on me in such a way ok?” you said and checked the chat with a soft smile. A big chunk of your crowd was very sweet saying that they wanted to get you something from your wishlist and you entertained them while also reminding them to be responsible with their money

truthfully you made enough from this job and while your wishlist was open you didn’t have the necessity to ask people for gifts unless they started the conversation first

The stream was nice and slow without much happening till out of nowhere you started hearing more and more often the “subscribed to your channel” notification and started getting confused

“My god, welcome but where are all of you coming from?” you asked genuinely confused and saw the chat interacting with another favored figure. Favored by you and by your overlapping audience

staygrounded69: So this is the game you recommended. Looks interesting

Your ears were burning and your hands started to shake. You pretending to be reading, not trusting yourself to speak without stuttering. Abby, Abigail fucking Anderson was watching your stream

“Oh look whos here! Id tell you all to greet Abs but I'm sure most of you somehow found me through her today” you awkwardly said and went back to the game. Someone shamelessly sent a superchat with a voice note

“Abby should dress up as Eivor. She has the muscles” and your eyes widened at the image of that.

“That's a nice idea but she should play the game and see if she even likes it in the first place guys”

staygrounded69: Im intrigued by it for sure!

you could almost here her, hell you could almost picture the way she would say that and it did nothing to calm your nerves so in a rush you tried to end the stream feigning sleep taking over you and saying a bold lie that you had early classes tomorrow.

Once you logged out you turned off your pc and sat on your chair for a good few minutes breathing in and out thinking back to what had just happened

this was impossible. How? Why? no back to how. Actually why is better

why did she watch my stream?

You jumped off your chair and ran to the living room remembering the message. Sure enough there was a notification from the woman herself. Multiple actually

staygrounded69: the game you suggested seems interesting enough. Wanna gimme a summary of it yourself?

and then

staygrounded69: sorry was that overwhelming? Shit my fans go wild sometimes

You tapped to see her stories and her last was a photo of her living room, her dog Alice on the floor laying and her screen showing your stream. You took a good look at the image and your eyes stayed fixed on the corner of the pic where you could see her cropped frame showing only her spread legs in those mouth watering gray sweatpants

you went back to the messages

No its fine! caught me off guard is all but thanks for the shoutout <33

you answered and cringed at how formal and distant your response seemed

And of course I hope you actually enjoyed my stream

you waited and waited and a few minutes later you saw the sent turn into seen and the three dots appeared of her typing and deleting her message

staygrounded69: I did. Weird I never came across you before but you are very entertaining. Got a good look at what valhalla is about as well

no please don’t judge it by my stream today! its so much more than the shitty little quests I did today

you rushed to send the message, your passion overclouding your judgment and throwing your plans on the mysterious flirting out of the fucking window

You wanted to double text and divert the conversation to something else so that it would keep going but didn’t know how and felt that perhaps, that would’ve been a little more ambitious of you. After all she did only text you about the game in the first place

While you weren’t surprised about it but was a bit crestfallen, the conversation ended there with Abby leaving you on seen

•••

the next two days you obsessively waited for her to post a photo, which she didn’t and waited for a story which there was none and eventually with your friends help you shoved your phone in your bag and tried to get over it

It helped that you had a fat stack of assignments to work through for the week so you buried your head in fabrics and threads and tried to finish the project that was given.

a suit, which meant one inch sewn too far and the thing would be loose and crooked. You used once again yourself as a model for the costume since dragging your friends away from their work and studies didn’t sit well with you. Besides, anyone would be bored of having to sit and wait for you to stitch ,measure, sew, tell them to get up, make them put it on and then do all of that fifty times over till you got the piece right.

Cassie did insist she would love doing that for you given that she had the time but you still refused.

You would love to eventually have an actual model for your end of year fashion show but until then You'd just have to do.

By Friday everything was fixed and wrapped ready to be presented. You were waiting in line as all of you presented your work to the professor and she took her time studying each student's work. You had already tried the suit on and had taken photos to have proof that the measurements were correct both on you and on the doll that you used so you weren't too worried about it.

You had posted the photos on your profile unsure of how they would go since you felt like no one would care enough about things unrelated to the games you play.

“You did a good job. This Fabric though, Why did you choose it?”

your throat was dry and your nerves on edge

“I wanted the extra effect and felt velvet would look good on some parts”

“I see. Try to add extra effect when you learn how to do the basics first, alright?”

You wanted to cry but just gave a curt nod, put the suit back in the bag and went to the back of the class waiting for the short examination to end. This week had a banging start and a Godawful end and you couldn’t wait to go home and sleep it off. You checked the time. one more class and then you were free

In between lectures you decided to head to the cafeteria to see if there was anything left to snack on besides protein bars that tasted like dust or chips which, of course there wasn’t. Kitchen was open only in the early hours which left all of you who had afternoon-night classes to starve and figure it out on your own. With a sigh you went to the guy and asked for a coffee

“I want-“

“Iced latte, sugar and hazelnut syrup. Don’t worry I remember the type of cake you get in your espresso”

you chuckled and leaned against the counter scrolling leisurely through your feed not bothering to check the likes or comments yet

“long week?”

“yeah and I had project presentation too”

“oh shit. What major are you in again?”

“Fashion design and construction. I like it not complaining just-“

You were checking everyone's stories eventually landing on Ellies and had to double check making sure you weren’t mistaken or too sleep deprived to see well. She has shared your post of you wearing your velvet crimson suit. A deep V cut suit and she boldly left a little note at the corner

A good day to be a lesbian

“just?” The barista asked passing you, your coffee which you barely heard, too confused on how she even found you. Making the immediate and only reasonable connection you checked Abby's feed. She had shared your photo a few hours before ellie did and she left a little comment of her own. Way more specific and catered to you making your stomach do a backflip

This woman ♡

Your knees were weak and you started to feel nauseous. You took a seat at the counter looking up at the barista

“mind if I take a seat?”

“sure, did something happen? You don’t look so good”

“I'm fine- thanks…Just light headed”

“alright take your time”

he went back to his work, his frame disappearing behind the door of the -staff only- room leaving you alone.

Thankfully the cafeteria had few people left. two girls at the far east corner on their computers and a guy on the other end of the counter listening to music on his phone and taking notes.

You sent the screenshots to your groupchat. after 10 minutes of being left on “delivered” You spammed them with different meaningless messages to get their attention. Cassie was the first to cave in

cassie: Should we call you international casanova now or…?

CASSIE!!

June: They are both in seattle so I guess she's moving locally

Cassie: Seattle is 1,000€ away from our country so not really

Guys can you help?! Im panicking

Do I text Abby? should I respond

June: YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY?! YES OF COURSE SHE IS SENDING YOU HINTS

Cassie: Damn you really said “I will miss every chance God throws at me”

Rick: sent a link to a facebook post

Cassie: ???

You laughed, feeling a little better trying to ignore the obvious set for failure that any of this flirting was considering that indeed, Abby lived too far

You shook your head and went to respond to her story. If you just thanked her, this wouldn’t go anywhere. If you whined about your teacher this would show uncomfortable familiarity

Took me a week but was worth the effort♡

you responded and her immediate reply came few seconds later

staygrounded69:You made this?! Man you’re talented

No no it's just…measuring and shit.Anyone who’s handy with crafting could learn that

staygrounded69:You could say I'm good with my hands yeah…

You choked on your coffee and started coughing, your arm over your mouth to drown the noise. You had the most stupid smile on your face. You grabbed your bag and decided that you would skip the last class to go back home. No, you needed to enjoy this the way you enjoyed reading a good romance book and the only way to do that was in the comfort of your apartment.

once you reached the bus stop you opened your phone again and went to your chat

Man she was shameless and you leaving her on read for 20 minutes did nothing to make her falter. You could definitely get behind this attitude. It was expected that someone so timid and shy would probably have a nastier side and you really wanted to find out to what extent that went

And here I was hoping to teach you

staygrounded69:That’s one way to spend our date. Learning how to sew sounds interesting

Date? You sure are bold

staygrounded69:Am I? its you who owes me one. Don’t go back on your word now

You looked at the message puzzled, your smile dropping due to the genuine confusion. Did she mistake you for someone else ? Was this message directed to another girl? your bus came and the doors slid open with the rest of the college students walking in. You looked up at their moving frames and finally had a spark of an idea.

it was stupid and a reach but you did make that stupid offer on your stream regarding the ¼ scale Eivor statue.

You checked your wishlist and scrolled all the way down before finally switching to the “purchased” section.

It was there

you went back to your chat

insane. You are insane

staygrounded69; Dont worry about it. Its not the different from getting you coffee

jesus how much do these sponsors pay you?!

you asked and chuckled awkwardly to yourself. Needless to say. You had very well missed your bus too focused on the conversation and the unexpected direction it took. In the back of your mind you had a bad hunch. This didn’t feel like Abby. But you didn’t know Abby so you decided to push it back for once and let yourself enjoy whatever was going on

Staygrounded69: Sponsors are good and all but the real deal comes from my onlyfans

Your brows shot up and your eyes went from your phone to the side of the pavement. You kicked a stone and let it tumble.

She had onlyfans. Abby anderson had onlyfans and you had no idea. Oh this was dangerous information. You were sure your bank was about to cancel your cards by telepathically reading your mind any minute now.

My bad, I had no idea.

staygrounded69: Yeah set it up not too long ago which fuck, I left you on read cause things were all over the place with work. Sorry for that

Your heart felt warm and you were glad to redirect the heat in your pants to somewhere more productive. Preferably that would’ve been your brain but that didn’t work even when Abby wasn’t involved.

its cool, I get it

staygrounded69: Now about that date

I'd love to but I happen to live a few

countries away from yours

staygrounded69: Then how about you make some time for me and we can play a game together sometime this week?

you bit your lip. You could not believe this. You would go on call with her. The most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet wanted to go on a call with you and play a game. Ha! and people say romance is dead

deal 💕

you said and content you locked your phone and took a seat at the bus stop waiting for your ride. You felt a little more appreciative of how your week ended after all

—————————

coming next: cotton exploring Abbys OF page so next episode will finally have some spice <3

thank you for reading

[kentai345]

East Highland's Notorious

AO3

Fezco x reader

Warnings: It's a euphoria fic, so just like the TV show warning.

18+, drug use, foul language, no smut yet mostly fluff for now.

Can be read here or on ao3. More chapters on ao3

Summary: You never proclaimed yourself to be a nice person or good girl because no one expected you to be one. If someone perceived you as one that was their fault. Life wasn't easy but Fez made it bearable.

Chapter 1

*Rue narration is in italics*

If there’s one thing no one understood about (Y/N) Stone, it was why she was friends with Nate Jacobs. Why would such a chill and down-to-earth girl be friends with a guy like him? Simple, they didn’t know the real her. The ones who were unfortunate enough to piss her off and face her wrath gave her the infamous nickname stone cold bitch. She had to be because it made her life easier. And you didn’t hear it from me but when she and Nate were together people called them the East Highland Notorious cause nothing good ever happens when those two were around.

(Y/N)’s parents were addicts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her parents sober. Its why she tolerates all my bullshit and why she and Nate were so close. She loved wreaking havoc and creating chaos probably cause she couldn’t control the chaos that was her life. But with Nate, she knew just how to pull his strings and make him do most of the work for her while she just sit back and watch.

They also both understand each other’s hatred for their parents but (Y/N) had one nice thing to come out of her parent's addiction. Fezco. Cause of them she got to meet Fez and his grandmother. Her parents sometimes made her go get drugs for them and she would buy them from Fez himself or his grandmother.

They became so close that when his grandmother got sick and he had to drop out she was there for him and helped him out at the gas station. It gave her a break from her life. Not having to listen to Maddy complain about Nate, watching Nate be a dick, and from the waitress job that she hated. At some point when I was in rehab Fez and (Y/N) had grown even closer that she was staying at his place from time to time and her parents wouldn’t even notice. It was like this unspoken rule that she was his and no girl would be stupid enough to get too friendly with Fez knowing what (Y/N) was capable of. However, (Y/N) would never label it, believe it or not as ruthless as she was, she was shy around guys she truly liked and the fear of rejection was keeping her from defining the relationship.

I sat outside the gas station with Fez as he smoked a blunt with my legs laying across his lap. He exhales smoke in my direction with a smirk and I playfully hit his arm. “Stop.” I whine fanning the smoke out of my face. He takes my hand into his planting a kiss on it and I smile shyly. We hear footsteps coming toward us and I slip my hand from his hold and look up to see Rue standing in front of us.

“Thanks a lot, you gave me a secondhand high, and now I’m seeing ghost.” I said as I moved my legs from Fez’s lap.

“I’m not a ghost, dick.” Rue said with a laugh and I shrug. I go on my phone to find out where Nate is while Fez tells Rue about this new girl we’ve been seeing around and how Rue would get along with her.

“So like how are you feelin?” He asked.

“I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and Savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good.” Rue said and I laugh.

“Word? That's what's up.”

“I'm fucking with you. It was a joke.” Rue said with a laugh. “But low-key, is Ashtray in the back?”

“Are you serious?” Fez asked in disbelief.

“What, you think cause I went to Rehab I stayed clean.” She said and I shake my head.

“Well that is the point of rehab.” I said not surprised. I went inside the store and headed to the back. Rue couldn’t function without drugs in her system she was just like my parents. I fucking hate my parents.

“I thought your ass was dead.” Ash said as Rue walked in and she looked at me. “I didn’t start that rumor.” I shrugged.

“Don’t matter y’all come and go I’m just tryna stack my cash and pay my mortgage. So what the fuck you want?” Ash said listing off what he had.

“I’m sorry I have zero fucking idea what you just said.” Rue said. “Yeah, no one does. Just give her the one that’s similar to LSD.” I told Ash.

“Ok.” Rue agrees and Ash tells her it's 120. “Oh, Fez said he'd spot me.” She said and we call bullshit as she leaves.

“Fezco don't spot nobody.” Ash said.

“Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him.” Rue said and I follow her. “I will go ask him, 'cause I know you're full of shit.” Ash said as we leave the back.

“What are you doing after this?” Rue asked me and I shrug. “Waiting on Nate to give me a ride to Maddy’s to get ready for this summer bash that Mckay’s throwing, everyone is supposed to be there.”

“Cool.” She said as we went back outside and see Fez selling to Nate.

“About time, thought you died in a five-car pile-up.” I said to him. “You wish get in the fucking truck.” He said walking back to his truck. “I didn’t hear a please.”

“Yeah right.” He said as I followed him. “I’ll see you guys later.” I said to Rue and Fez before getting in the backseat. “Yo, I’d do it for Rue.” Nate yells to Rue as he pulls off and Mckay shakes his head.

I listen to him and Nate go back and forth about the party and his mom being particular and blah blah. I become interested when Mckay brings up Maddy and if she and Nate were together.

“Cause she’s crazy, I don’t want her to come and burn my house down.” Mckay warns.

“I hope she does burn your house down, then your party will be remembered forever…as the guy who got his house burned down.” I said laughing and Nate joined. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Nate said focusing on a blonde girl that Fez and I had been seeing around town riding her bike. Nate slows the truck to her speed and rolls down Mckay’s window “Right here.” He calls.

“How ‘bout you come and ride on this dick.” He says and she flips him off in return. She loses her balance and falls off her bike as Nate speeds away laughing and I just roll my eyes at his antics used to his behavior.

People question how I’m even friends with Nate with all the shit he pulls but I don’t have the answer he’s just always there. Plus some of the shit he does is entertaining and yeah he was an asshole to me too but he was always a person I could call when my parents lock me out of the house or forget to stock the fridge. His family, no matter how fucking picture-perfectly annoying they are helped me out. Hell, the only thing I regret is setting Maddy up with him. I knew what Nate liked in a girl and Maddy knew I could get Nate on her radar, so I did her favor. Believe me, I tried to warn her about Nate’s temper but she swore she could handle him. Although, sometimes I believe she doesn’t know what she got herself into.

Nate drops me off a block away from Maddy’s house not wanting to come into contact with her at all and I greet her parents when they let me in. I go to her room seeing Kat and BB as well saying hi to everyone until Maddy faces me showing me her breast.

“Do my areoles look weird?”

At first I just look at her thinking she’s joking but realizing she’s not I glance down at her boobs. “They look like areoles.” I comment and she rolls my eyes not liking my answer putting her shirt back on.

“I literally look disgusting. Nate’s totally ruined my confidence.” She says.

“Nate’s a loser who cares?” Kat says.

“He’s not a loser he’s a dick.” Maddy corrects.

“Bottom line, y’all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars.” BB said as she goes through Maddy’s closet.

“I’d settle for like four Corona Lights and some non-rapey affection.” Kat answers. “That’s kind of depressing.” BB says waving me over to sit down at the vanity to do my makeup.

“You know when somebody just constantly criticizes like everything about you?” Maddy says going off about Nate.

“Like every guy?” I answer.

“You just need to catch a dick and forget about your troubles.” Kat advises and we all look at her. “Shouldn’t you catch a dick first before telling other people to do it?” I said.

“Seriously, the best thing after a breakup is to fuck someone new and then move on.” Kat continues.

“Remind me again how many guys have you fucked? And cat-fishing don’t count.” BB says and I laugh. “Speaking of someone new, (Y/N)?” BB says and I raise an eyebrow at her as she does my eye shadow.

“What?”

“Bitch, come on we know you’ve been all boo’d up this summer with Fez.” Maddy says.

“We’re just friends.”

“Save the bullshit.” BB said finishing up my makeup. “Ok, so I'm testing the waters. Besides he hasn’t defined what we are and we all know I’m not gonna do it.” I said looking at my makeup in the mirror.

“You’ve been testing the waters for months. Quit being scared and claim your man already.” BB said. “Seriously, it's obvious he likes you stop being stubborn.” Maddy said and I look at her through the mirror. “Why don’t you stop being stubborn and take Nate back already, we all know you’re gonna do it.”

“Bitch, don’t even go there.” She warned ending the conversation in a stalemate.

We finish getting ready and get in Maddy’s car to go to the party. Now I may have seemed like a dick but I hated telling other people my business except for Nate and Fez. Sometimes Maddy depending on what it is. I avoided relationships at all costs cause the guys here are fucking idiots and it wasn’t hard with Nate around keeping them away. Fez was the only exception as he was my distraction from the shitty parts of my life, kind of I mean sometimes I have to buy from him for my parents. I know Fez likes me but I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship if we break up and end up with just Nate to confide in.

We finish getting ready and get in Maddy’s car to go to Mckay’s and on the way we see Rue walking down the street. “Slow down.” I tell Maddy and point to Rue.

“Wait didn’t Rue, like die?” Maddy said and I look at her confused. “Why does everyone think I started that rumor?” I asked.

“Oh my god, I hate ghosts.” BB said as Maddy pulled over.

“Yo, Casper you want a ride?” Kat asked. “Why, thank you.” Rue answers. I could tell just by looking at her that she was on drugs as she gets in the backseat with Kat and BB.

Arriving at the party Kat and Rue wander off who knows where and the rest of us go to grab drinks. I scope the party for Nate but my eyes land on a blonde guy staring at us more specifically Maddy. Smirking I get Maddy’s attention and casually gesture with my shoulder to the blonde and she gives him an uninterested look. “Don’t you wanna piss off Nate?” I suggest and she smiles deviously giving me the go-ahead. I go over to the blonde greeting him with a smile.

“My friend and I thought you looked lonely. Wanna dance with us?” I asked touching his arm in a flirtatious manner. When he agrees I take his hand guiding him toward Maddy and BB who were already dancing. “Oh, my god I completely forgot to ask for your name.” I said in a dimwitted tone

“Tyler.” He introduces looking directly at Maddy. “Hi.” Maddy says and grabs his hand pulling him towards her. BB and I dance around them and I feel a pair of hands grab my waist making me into contact with someone’s chest. I look over and see the owner of the hand to be Fez. “Been lookin’ for you.” He says into my ear so I could hear him over the music.

“You found me. Now what?” I said turning in his arms to face him and he smiles at my words. “Yo friends don’t mind if I take you away then?” He asked looking over to Maddy and BB who waves us off insisting it was fine. BB sends us suggestive looks as Fez takes my hand and I roll my eyes at her. He leads me outside to the backyard and has a seat on an unoccupied couch pulling me onto his lap.

Straddling his lap he connects our lips in a quick kiss before he looks down admiring my outfit consisting of a halter top and jeans. “Shit, look at you lookin all good.” He kissed my jaw trailing to my neck and I hum in pleasure at the feeling. I reconnect our lips, running my hands along his chest but our actions come to a stop feeling the couch shift as someone plops down next to us.

“Oh, hey Rue.” I greet.

“Hey, don’t mind me keep doing what you’re doing.” She says sounding out of it.

“Come on now bruh, you owe me 120 bucks.” Fez said and I reposition myself in his lap as we were obviously not gonna continue our previous engagement anytime soon.

“Man sorry, I forgot.”

“To be honest, with you, your whole drug shit got me feeling kind of uneasy.” Fez said. “Come on don’t go soft on me, Fez.” Rue said not taking his words seriously.

“I’m not. It’s just that... I like you. And I missed you, bruh. That shit at the beginning of summer had me scared as fuck.”

“Yeah, you and everybody else. Well except for (Y/N).” She said and I nodded my head. “Duh, you’re like a cockroach, you always come back.” I joked. I was scared for Rue after hearing about her overdose but I also didn’t let that shit consume my thoughts. There’s no point in worrying about someone who doesn’t want the help or maybe I’m just a pessimistic dick.

“At least someone had faith in me.” She said with a smile. As she continued talking to Fez I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and went onto Instagram to see if I could find this Tyler guy as I had never seen him around school before. However, as I am I hear a commotion coming from the pool, and giving Fez a quick kiss on the cheek I go over to see. I come to find Maddy and Tyler in the pool making out and Nate watching.

“Yeah that's real classy you fucking whore.” Nate says to her.

“Suck my dick.” Maddy responds making the crowd around react in her favor. I never meant for the plan to go this far but knowing Maddy I should’ve seen it coming. I hear Nate going off in the kitchen and go back inside to see him breaking shit in the kitchen. The girl who was riding her bike earlier was in the kitchen while others were clearing out of Nate’s warpath. “Hey man what’s going on?” Rue asked suddenly appearing next to me.

“The usual Nate’s pissed and he’s about to take it out on the new girl.” I said already filming on my phone. Rue nods her head and like everyone else nearby we watch as Nate starts yelling at the girl getting in her face before she suddenly pulls a kitchen knife on him making Nate back down. “Fuck, new girls got balls. Too bad she doesn’t know what she’s getting into.” I comment.

“Put the fucking knife down! It was a joke!” Nate yells and looks to me for help but I look around wondering why he’s looking to me for help. “The fuck you want me to do? Bitch has a knife and I’m not a hostage negotiator.” I said still filming.

She takes the knife suddenly cutting herself yelling “I’m fucking invincible.” Before backing away from Nate and throws the knife down. “By the way, I’m Jules. I just moved here.”

“Hi Jules.” I say as she leaves the kitchen. “Take back what Fez and I said, that bitch is insane.” I told Rue as I end the video and I go check on Nate.

“You sure know how to pick a fight.” I said and he glares at me. “Shut the fuck up.” He growls shoving past me harshly and past Fez who was coming toward me. “You alright?” He asks me glaring back at Nate before looking back at me.

“I’m fine its normal.” I reassure and pull him into a hug. “Besides you know I love chaos.”

“A lil too much. So like what's your home situation tonight?” He asked me stroking my arm checking if I was gonna go back home or not. “Sleeping over at Maddy’s but I’ll probably go home Sunday. You leaving?”

“Not yet still more money to make and I gotta make sure you leave safely with yo friends.” He guides me backward to lean against the kitchen counter. “You don’t have to do that.” I say kissing him. Our kiss started slow before his tongue slips between my lips and my hands tighten on his shirt bringing him impossibly closer. We pull apart catching our breaths and I stare at him entranced by how handsome he is but I am drawn out by BB calling for me.

“What?” I asked looking over at her and Kat. “We about to go, you leaving with us?”

“Yeah.” I sigh reluctantly not ready to leave Fez’s arms. “I’ll see you later.” He says kissing me one last time before disappearing into the party. I leave with BB, Maddy and Kat going back to Maddy’s. As we’re getting ready to go to bed I get a goodnight text from Fez and can’t help but smile.

I had to wake up around 6 in the morning to leave Maddy’s house and walk home to get ready for work, clean up whatever mess my house was gonna be in, and then get to work on time at 9. I was dreading going home knowing that the house would be trashed or my dad’s junky friends would be there. To my surprise the front door was unlocked when I got home and was repulsed by the smell coming from inside finding it to be spoiled food in the kitchen, while my parents were passed out on the couch, I think. I sigh annoyed and go into my room to grab my uniform and go take a shower.

Before leaving I pack a bag of clothes just in case I decide I don’t want to sleep here tonight, clean up the kitchen, and leave two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my parents when they wake up. I look over at them once more checking if they were actually breathing before stealing my mom’s car keys and leave for work.

Now I hated working not because I was lazy or hated my coworkers, I hate the fact that because my parents couldn’t take care of themselves or me that I had to choose between sports or having a meal to eat. It was thanks to Nate that I got this job as his family eats here a lot like they have a usual table a lot. Clocking in I immediately get to work taking on as many tables as I can to get more tips and hopefully make the end of my shift come faster. During my shift, Nate came by the restaurant and asked to be sat in my section and I raise an eyebrow at him when I notice him.

“What do you want?”

“Who was the guy with Maddy at the party.”

“You gonna order something with that?” I ask and he sighed annoyed. “And it can’t be water.”

“What about a trip to the mall, didn’t you say you wanted a new wardrobe?” He offers. “Deal. His name’s Tyler doesn’t go to our school or if he does, I’ve never seen him but I found his Instagram. There’s nothing interesting. Hell, he might be in college.” I shrugged.

“That's good enough, what’s his-” He stops talking looking behind me and I turn to see who was there. I roll my eyes seeing one of my coworkers who was this annoying older lady, who for some reason couldn’t go one shift without having something to say to me.

“Can I help you, Susan?” I asked annoyed as I glared at her.

“It’s just really unprofessional to have your friends come by while you’re working and not or-”

“And it's really unprofessional to interrupt someone when they’re in the middle of a conversation. And you're not a fucking manager so walk away.” I said scaring her off. “I can’t fucking stand that bitch.”

After giving Nate Tyler’s social, he leaves and I finish up the rest of my shift clocking out. I count out my tips getting over 100$ which was pretty good for a Sunday. Reluctantly I head home to return the car and probably have to make my parents dinner. “Hey, (Y/N) how was school?” My dad asked from the couch as he watched TV. “It's summer break.” I sigh annoyed putting the keys back. “Right, right hey your uncle Bruce gave us a tip. My parole officer is coming by this week can you help me out?”

“Yeah. Just tell me when.” I said softly, wishing I was somewhere else. They could go weeks without noticing if I’m here or not but when it's time to pee in a cup or go on a drug run all of a sudden they remember they have a kid again. I don’t know when exactly my parents became like this I’m just surprised I made this far in life with their parenting. I order two pizzas for the night for my parents so they could have something to eat in the morning and after paying for the delivery head to the bathroom to shower. As I’m getting ready for bed I get a call from Fez.

“Hey Fez, what’s up?”

“Checkin up on you, hadn’t heard from you. Wanted to know if you want to come over, watch a movie or sumthin?”

“Or something?” I repeated teasingly. “I can’t, had a long day and I gotta be here in the morning for my dad. I would’ve loved to though.”

“What does your dad got you doing?”

“Oh you know the usual, gotta pee in a cup for his parole officer. Plus school starts tomorrow and my house is closer than yours.”

“Then let me drive you.” He offered. "No need to go out of your way for me. I’ll be fine.”

“Nah its nothing, let-” He starts but I interrupt.

“Seriously Fez, it's alright. I can take care of myself. Goodnight.” I hang up not waiting for him to respond. I didn’t want to sound rude but I stayed over with Fez a lot this summer and with school starting again I had to get back to my old routine and not depend on him so much.

Before leaving for school I hand my dad my bottle of pee and in an attempt at affection, he pats my head as he thanks me. I mumble a goodbye to him and my mom before leaving out and I come to the stop in my driveway seeing Fez parked outside waiting for me.

“Hey.” I said getting in his car. “Hey, pretty girl.” He responds.

“Shut up.” I said shyly as I looked out the window as he drove me to school. “I told you, you didn’t have to drive me.”

“I know but sometimes your stubborn ass needs to accept help when it's offered.”

“If you keep this up you’ll make me keep depending on you more.” I said as he parked outside the school. “That’s the point.” He answered taking my hand in his.

“Then I guess you’re never getting rid of me.” I said leaning in to kiss him. “I’ll talk to you later. Tell your grandma hi for me.” After getting out I meet up with Maddy and BB eventually running into Cassie.

“Oh, shit that's the girl who tried to commit suicide at Mckay’s.” BB said as we walked past Jules and Rue. “What?” Cassie asked.

“That is not what happened.” I said.

“Oh yeah I forgot, you guys was both fucking.” She pointed to Cassie and Maddy.

“Why does everybody think we fucked?” Maddy stops to say but we keep walking ignoring her. “Alcohol is not good for me.” She said when she caught back up with us.

“So you did fuck him.” BB said.

“Honestly, I think I blacked out.” She said. While the others look at her worried I gave her a side-eye. We run into Kat and I pull Maddy to the side while Cassie and BB talk to Kat.

“Being I’m the only one who knows better we both know you’re lying and did what you did to get back at Nate. So why are we lying to them?” I gestured to the others.

“Cause you're the only one I trust to keep this between us and from Nate.”

“You’re glad I fucking love you 'cause this shit might blow up in your face.” I said wondering how Nate’s gonna react if he believes that Maddy blacked out, especially with how overprotective he is. Deciding it wasn’t my problem we go over to Kat and Maddy hugs her congratulating her on losing her virginity.

“Damn, did everybody have sex at the party?” I asked holding a finger up to Maddy to silence whatever in-denial BS she was gonna say.

After catching up we head to class and I get a text from Nate telling me he was going to skip today and that he wanted to pay me back for that information I found on Tyler for him. The power of teenagers and social media.

I was hiding out in the bathroom sitting on the counter while waiting for Nate to come get me and when people would come in I would make them get lost, so I could be alone. “Find another bathroom.” I said when I heard someone rush inside and I look up to see Rue who freezes at my words. “Oh hey, Rue don’t mind me just killing time.” I said letting her come in.

“Keep a lookout.” She said going into a stall. “Got it.” I reassured. Not a minute later I hear someone walking in and warn Rue. “Hurry up, someone’s coming.”

“Shit, fuck it.” I hear Rue say before flushing the toilet.

“Rue?” We hear Lexi say as she enters the bathroom. “Never mind it's just Howard.” I said and Rue came out of the stall pissed.

“Are you okay?” Lexi asked Rue. “You are so fucking stupid, Lexi.” She answered.

“Why?”

“Cause I already flushed everything.” She said frustrated. “Damn, what a waste.” I said sarcastically still chilling on my phone.

“I just came to check on you.” Lexi explains. “I don’t want you fucking checking on me, what difference are you going to make? Gonna give me life advice? You gonna fucking help me?” Rue rants.

“Well, you’re one of my best friends.” She says and I try not to laugh at this pathetic scene. Lexi just couldn’t accept that the Rue she used to know is gone. I mean I guess it's sweet she doesn’t want to give up on her but I knew firsthand what a waste of time that was.

“You say all this but what happens when you knock on my door asking me to piss in some Tylenol bottle?” She said.

“Then you piss in the bottle. Cause that’s what friends do. They borrow each other’s pee so they can pass a drug test. At least that's how my family works.” I said as I got down from the counter. “Or learn how to say no for once.” Those are my last words before I leave to go meet Nate and head to the mall.

The mall wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be as Nate was constantly texting someone on his phone. Then he disappeared as soon we got there giving me some cash. I found him on the second floor leaning against the railing staring down at the first floor. Approaching him I match my line of sight with his to see who he was staring at and I see Tyler working at a kiosk. “So this is why you brought me here.” I said setting my bags down to lean against the railing. “What’s your plan to watch him until he gets off?” He nods his head eyes not moving from Tyler. “You’re insane.” I said with a sigh. “Watch my stuff.”

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“You’ll see.” I said and get on the escalator to go down to the first floor. I head toward the kiosk approaching Tyler with a flirtatious smile. “Oh my gosh, hi Tyler. (Y/N) you probably remember my friend more than me.”

“Hey, of course, I remember you, you introduced me to her.”

“Really?” I said in a faux bashful tone. “Then what time do you get out of here?”

“Not for another 4 hours.” He said and I pout at his answer. A customer wanting assistance comes up to the counter and I take this as my chance to leave.

“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” I said leaving before he answered. I take the escalator back upstairs to Nate and my stuff.

“What did you just do?” He asked annoyed. “Helped you out he gets off in 4 hours so it's enough time for you to drop me off and come back to continue your stalking.” I answered picking up my bags and head back to Nate’s truck. On the way to the truck, I noticed he started texting someone again and when we got in the truck I asked, “Who are you texting? I know it's not Maddy since she fucked Tyler.” He glares at me. “Allegedly.”

He shows me his screen of some type of dating app and I see his messages between Jules and shyguy118. “Are you catfishing the new girl?” I asked amused.

“Payback for the shit she pulled at the party.” He said starting the truck to take me to Fez’s gas station. “I don’t know if I would consider catfishing equivalent to pulling a knife on you as payback.”

“It’ll all come together eventually.” He said ominously leaving me intrigued. So I left it at that. Since I saw no point in going back to school for the day I plan to stop by to see Fez and head to work early to not waste the day. I saw Fez chilling behind the counter and he smiles upon seeing me and I smile in return as I lean on the counter across from him. “Thought you was at school?” He asked tucking my hair behind my ear.

“I was but Nate hit me up and we skipped so he could take me shopping in return for a favor I did for him.” I explained and his smile dropped at the mention of Nate. I knew Fez wasn’t a big fan of Nate but he was dealing with it as I was friends with Nate for a long time.

“Next time ask me, I’ll gladly spoil you with a trip to the mall.” He said and I smile shyly.

“Then what would I keep Nate around for?” I joked and outside Nate honks the horn as a message to hurry up and I roll my eyes. “And speak of the devil. Anyway, I just wanted to stop by since I’m going straight to work from here.”

“How’s it going at home?” He asked.

“Besides the empty fridge not the worse, didn’t even know I was gone for the half summer. Or that it was summer vacation at all.”

“Then if you want, you should come over tomorrow night or even stay over again if you want, if that's cool with you.” He offered.

“How’d you know I was missing you already.” I said kissing him. “It's tempting but I don’t wanna bur-”

“You not a burden.” He interrupts. “You been sayin' that all summer and I swear you ain’t. Just let me take care of you.” I can’t help the way my heart races at his words and it makes me wanna scream that he won’t make it official.

“Keep talking like that I’m gonna start calling you my bo-” Nate honks the horn again but this time holding it longer interrupting me.

“What was you sayin?” Fez asked after he stopped and I shake my head.

“Nothing important. Yeah, I’ll come over tomorrow, also I’m gonna get a bag of chips, so I can at least show I thought about him.” I said leaving cash on the counter and grabbing a random bag of chips I go back to Nate’s truck pissed that when I finally had the courage to try and define the relationship he fucked it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After work when I get back home I go through my messages and an acquaintance from the cheer team before I had to quit sent me a video link telling me it's Kat in the video. I click on the link and it takes me to pornhub and I start to roll my eyes annoyed thinking I was getting fucked with before the video shows a girl getting fucked from the back. The girl being Kat or someone who looks like- Oh who am I kidding of course it's her don’t even have to see her face to know. I sent the video to Maddy asking her if she’s seen it and she sent it to Kat but she denies that it was her. All I can say is that with this video, Jules threatening Nate with a knife, Nate catfishing Jules in retaliation, and the Maddy and Tyler mess the school year was off to a chaotic start. I love it.

The next morning after getting ready I packed a bag for Fez’s place and made sure I took the cash I had earned throughout the summer with me as my parents sometimes went through my stuff looking for money when I’m not here. I put my stuff in the backseat of the car and went to school. After school, I walked out with Maddy, BB, and Cassie heading to my car but Nate and Mckay were outside waiting on them. So BB and I split from them talking for a while before I went to work. After work, I head to Fez’s house in the rain, and while I’m grabbing my bag from the backseat Rue arrives on her bike soaked. “You came all the way here in the rain.” I said shaking my head and she goes up to Fez’s door knocking constantly flipping off the cameras they had above the door.

“Hey open the door!”

“What do you want?” Ash asked still not opening the door.

“Ash let us in, Rue’s soaked.” I said and going through my bag to give her some dry socks or something as he opened the door. “Yo, who is it, man?” Fez asked. Rue goes in walking straight past him to his room and I give him a wave and sit on the couch.

“Hold on, hold on, you can’t be in here right now.” Fez told Rue and I wondered why it was a big deal she was here.

“I need some, some OCs and some socks.” She said coming out of his room and sits down on the couch.

“I offered you some socks when we were outside.” I remind. “No, you didn’t.” She corrects.

“Damn. You know, I thought about it, I just didn’t say it.” I said putting my bag down on the floor to look for a pair of socks again.

“Rue, I ain’t fuckin’ playing with you. Come on you can’t be in here.” Fez said interrupting our conversation.

“Look Fez, I’m fucking drenched. Okay? And uh… I’m out of drugs. So don’t be a dick.” She says making what she thinks are valid points.

“That’s not my fucking problem. You gotta get up out of my house before these motherfuckers come through.” He explained and I realized why he was acting like this. His supplier guy was on the way and when he came around I stayed hidden in his room but I don’t think Rue could stay quiet until they were gone like me especially when she wanted drugs.

“All I need is a couple OC’s and some Xannies. And why just me? You're not kicking (Y/N) out.”

“Maybe 'cause I was invited.” I said dryly. “Where are your pants?” I asked just realizing that she wasn’t wearing anyway.

“Look that’s all I need and I can be gone.” She begs.

“Yo, I’m trying to tell you, I don’t got shit right now. Like… Come back in a few hours, I got you, whatever you need.” He said but Rue still puts up a fight and they continue going back and forth.

“My guy’s about to come through here. I don’t want you here when he gets here, you understand?”

“That scary-looking guy right? I know the drill.” I said standing up to go to his room attempting to make Rue come with me but it was too late. His phone rings on the table and he looks from it to Rue pissed.

“Rue I could fucking kill you right now. Yo, Ash, they’re here. Look I’m serious, Rue just stay right there keep your mouth shut, and be cool.” He ordered. “These dudes ain’t fucking around.” He pulls his gun out from in between the couch cushions that Rue and I were seated on checking his bullets before returning back to its hidden spot. Rue and I sit back down and I glance over at her seeing a hint of fear as she realizes how serious Fez was when Mouse and his associate I always forgot the name of came in. And as they came in Fez sits on the couch across from us and Mouse’s attention immediately fell on us sitting next to Rue.

“So these your little bitches.” He said and I bite my tongue not to say something smart. “Nah bruh, they’re my little sisters.” He said and I looked to my lap to hide my disappointment at his words.

“Well, hello there lil sisters.” Mouse said holding his hand out to us. Rue gives him her hand and he kisses it doing the same to mind and I begin to bounce my leg nervous. “Yo, Custer toss me that bag.” He starts to tell Fez everything he has which piques Rue’s interest and I nudge her foot with mine shaking my head. Custer runs him the numbers giving Fez the total he has to pay.

“Sure you don’t want no Fentanyl?” Mouse asks.

“Nah, man I’m cool off that shit. There's too many ODs and I don’t want the heat.”

“How about the little sisters? You ever try Fentanyl?” Mouse asked turning his attention back to us.

“I’m a high schooler with a C- average, I can’t even spell Fentanyl.” I said monotone getting my usual courage back and Mouse laughs.

“I see lil sis has a sense of humor.” He turns his attention to Rue. “What about you lil sis?”

“No.” She answers.

“No, she’s good, bruh.” Fez answers for her. “Gonna let big brother talk for you?” Mouse instigates getting irritated.

“I don’t know.” Rue says looking at Fez. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” Mouse orders putting a sample of it on a blade. “You ever try it?”

“Yo, for real, bruh. I don’t want her fucking with that shit.” Fez tries again to intervene. “I’m, I’m good actually.” Rue said.

“What don’t trust me?” He said and Fez again tries to intervene. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you. Tell your big brother I’m not talking to him right now.” He said and brought the blade of Fentanyl closer to Rue’s lips. “Don’t be scared. It’s not gonna bite you.” Rue looks to Fez who shakes his head and I slightly nudge her hoping to convince her to say no again but in the end takes the drug which works pretty fast. She starts to lay down laying her head in my lap.

“You like the way that feels? You want a couple of patches, girl?” Mouse asks her.

“Okay.” Rue agrees and I look at her worried as he tucks the patches into her shorts placing her leg atop his lap. “It's gonna cost you 300.” Mouse said.

“I only have two dollars.” She mumbles and I look at her like she’s crazy. “Who comes with only two dollars to b-” I catch myself. “Not important.”

“I said 300.” He repeated starting to stroke her leg.

“Where are my pants?” She mumbles. “You took them off.” I whispered to her.

“I’ll just, just give it back.” She said but Mouse didn’t like her answer.

“I got a strict no-return policy.” He placed his hand on Rue’s leg. “Yo, Mouse let me pay for it, man.” Fez said.

“I thought you was too good for Fentanyl. What is it? Everybody’s changing their motherfucking minds on me? If she can’t afford it, she gonna have to find another way of paying me.” Mouse said sliding his hand further up her leg and I roll my eyes to reach for my bag.

“I’ll pay for it.” I said bringing his attention to me, thankfully causing his hand to freeze. “Nah, let me pay for it.” Fez said trying to stop me but I shake my head. “I got it.” I pull out the 300 handing it to Mouse.

“Dang. Your sister must love you. It's gonna cost 600 now.” He told me after counting the money. I roll my eyes again go back into my bag and give him basically all the tip money I earned over the summer. “You got a reliable little sister.” He said to Fez and removes his hand from Rue’s leg and finally leaves along with Custard. After they leave I go to grab the Narcan while Fez and Ash flush the Fentanyl. I put a blanket over Rue and grab her phone trying to figure out where to take Rue as she couldn’t stay here or at mine as both places were stocked with drugs. She can’t go home as her mom would probably kill her and Lexi wasn’t an option as her mom would probably tell Rue’s mom.

“I’m so happy.” Rue says although I could barely hear her.

“Well at least one of us is.” I said annoyed.

“You alright?” Fez asked me when he came back and I nod my head. “Just pissed I just lost a summer’s worth of hard work. I’ll have to survive off my paycheck… Again.”

“Let me pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll just be more money Rue owes you. And I’ll survive. I always do.” I said with a sigh as I kept scrolling through Rue’s phone till I saw Jules and called her. “Hey um this is (Y/N), I’m a friend of Rue’s” I explained to her that Rue was basically incapacitated and needed somewhere to stay as her mom would kill her and Jules agrees to let her stay with her.

“After I drop Rue off I’m gonna head home. I’ll stay another time maybe.” I said ready for this shitty night to end.

“Ar-”

“After what just happened I kinda just wanna be alone.” I explained interrupting him. “Can you help me with her?”

Not pushing it further he helps me carry Rue to my car while I go get her clothes from his room. He lays her down in the backseat and goes to give me a kiss on the cheek but I pull away remembering how Fez doesn’t see me as anything but a friend and get in the car without another word.

[yujo-nishimura]

Whispers of the Desert Kingdom - Part 8

Warning: Sir Crocodile x fem reader, English is not my native language, not proof-read, age gap - forced marriage, angst and manipulation

I am so happy with this chapter, hope you all feel the same. :D

Taglist: @mcgeemouse , @fan-g0rl , @vexladin

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

As you arrived at the casino, you were able to find Crocodile right away. Unlike the other days he was among the customers, talking to a guy with a buzzcut and dark eyes, probably making arrangements how to improve business or snatch more money from the innocent gamblers. 

Your determination had fueled your journey here, urging you to overcome your shyness and confront Crocodile with unwavering love. However, as you laid eyes on him, standing there with his cigar, exuding an air of confidence, a momentary doubt crept into your mind. He seemed larger than life, surpassing you in every way. But you reminded yourself of your rightful place as the Princess of the Alabasta kingdom, the future queen of this majestic desert realm. In order to earn respect, you needed to exhibit unwavering determination and resolution.

Swiftly you approached Crocodile, just as he finished talking and dismissed the man with the buzzcut. As he turned around, a fleeting surprise flickered across his face upon seeing you there.

"Did you receive special permission to be here today, Princess?" he inquired, his voice masking any trace of the surprise that had momentarily registered on his features.

"I am granting my own permissions now, as your wife," you declared, a surge of pride washing over you as you spoke with forcefulness and resolve.

"Look who has discovered the audacity to confront me!" Crocodile chuckled, his amusement evident. In that moment, he leaned down, feigning a kiss on your cheek. Instead, his whispered words caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"How naughty of you to appear here without my permission, disrupting my work. Go downstairs and wait for me in my office...!" His command resonated with a deep timbre, leaving you feeling utterly powerless. You found yourself almost entranced by the commanding tone of his voice as he gently, yet forcefully, squeezed your arm.

Though you yearned to protest, the combination of his voice and touch left you momentarily speechless, as if under a spell.

He gently pushed you away, nodding at a man in a suit standing nearby. 

“Will you accompany my lovely wife to my office and make her tea? It is her first time here and I think she will need some guidance…!” 

You felt the arm of that suited man on yours, with the same gentle but precise power he guided you towards a door, away from Crocodile. Without hesitation, you followed the suited man into a dimly lit office, adorned with grand mahogany furniture and heavy velvet curtains that concealed the windows. Through those windows, you could see the Bananawanis, dangerous creatures lurking in the water. Being situated in the basement of the casino, Crocodile's office was submerged, surrounded by these treacherous beings.

The suited man offered you tea in a small golden bowl, wordlessly pointing to a dark leather sofa for you to sit on. You refrained from touching the tea, consumed by fear and anticipation. The darkness of the office seemed to close in on you, engulfing you in its oppressive embrace.

Time seemed to stretch on as you sat there, the minutes feeling like hours, until Crocodile finally entered the room. The dimly lit space illuminated his presence, his cigar emitting a faint glow. He approached a cabinet near the door, pouring himself a glass of amber liquid from a flask. Without saying a word, he settled into a leather chair in front of you, taking a couple of sips from his drink and extinguishing his cigar in an ashtray.

"I believe it's time we establish some ground rules to ensure our mutual happiness," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Firstly, you will never visit me. It is I who will visit you."

You wanted to protest, but his dark purple eyes glimmering in the darkness compelled you to remain silent.

"Secondly, any display of affection in public is at my discretion. You cannot come here and refer to me as your husband in front of the commoners unless I permit it."

Crocodile reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a new cigar, attempting to light it. However, his lighter failed to produce a flame, snapping twice without success. He let out a sigh and set the lighter and cigar aside.

"Lastly, you are forbidden from searching for me or seeking me out. If I am absent for a day, a week, a month — you will accept it. You will remain in your palace, occupy yourself with your studies or whatever other mundane tasks a bored princess is obliged to do, and leave me to do my business. Do you understand?"

His words hung in the air, a weighty silence enveloping the room, as he awaited your response.

"No!" you whispered, the defiance audible to Crocodile.

"What did you say?" he questioned, his voice laced with curiosity.

"I said no!" you repeated, your voice gaining strength. You locked eyes with him, refusing to back down.

In that moment, you noticed a new emotion flicker across Crocodile's face, a mix of anger and admiration. Swiftly rising from his seat, he loomed over you, his hand grasping your face with a force that made you wince in pain.

"You insolent little brat. Suddenly you think you can dictate terms to me?" he seethed, his fingers digging into your skin. Despite the discomfort, you maintained unyielding eye contact, ensuring that he could see your unwavering resistance.

With a sudden release, he let go of your face, causing your head to snap back. You quickly rubbed your sore cheeks, the pain still lingering on your skin. 

"Do not pretend that you possess any control over me," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "I can see how feeble you truly are, how your own desires are overwhelming you..!"

Your gasp of surprise escaped as he reached for your face again, but this time his touch was gentle, lifting your chin. His ringed fingers traced over the marks left by his previous grip. His smile in that moment sent waves of weakness and dizziness through you. His thumb caressed your lips before trailing down to your neck, the warmth of his touch nearly driving you to madness. He paused, his fingers resting on your chest, his palms pressing against your pounding heart.

"You enjoy this. You cannot resist me. Your eyes may say no, but your heart says yes..!" he whispered, his voice hoarse. Suddenly, a new element emerged in his tone, a desire that had not been present before.

[thatbanditqueen]

Basic Training Ch 2

This is a new Elvis Fan Fic set during his basic training at Fort Hood WIP I am playing around with for the summer. Comment, reblog , tag and let me know what you think or if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Thanks to my ever alpha @whositmcwhatsit who read the rough draft and made it so much better. Thanks Jader Gator. I love you and I think you know that I go between being so in awe of your writing that it is paralyzing to being inspired to write just to get close to what you create.

There are so many good writers in our fandom, and I am lucky to be friends with a little group of horny elvis witches who put up with me, answer my random questions and help me figure out narrative roadblocks, so thanks, as ever, to my sister wives @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis for helping me write. You guys are so talented I feel lucky to breathe your air, you teach me everything.

Summary: Elvis surprises Bess at her office to thank her and gets to know some of the other women on post.

Word Count: 4.9 K

Warnings: None. Swear words? Handsy charming naughty Elvis?

I have formulas, tropes, motifs that I always go back to consciously or unconsciously.... whatever... as I was naming this chapter I realized how chapter two is always about the nicknames..... Here we go...

If you need to catch up, read Chapter 1: I Don't Date Soldiers here

Basic Training Chapter 2: Lil Moo Moo & Tupelo

Wednesday, April 2, 1958

1715 Hours (5:15 p.m.)

Fort Hood Front Office

“Oh, give me Burt Lancaster any day over Elvis Presley.”

Mabel’s eyes didn’t leave her work as she said this, not even when she placed her cigarette in the ashtray on her desk, the keys on her typewriter plunking up and down in her glasses’ reflection as she typed. Unflappable and wry, Mabel was a career civil servant with the commemorative lapel pins to match each milestone from her twenty six years and counting career at Fort Hood. Her light green metal desk was set in the center of the large outer room in the base’s front office, right in front of the CO’s door. Bess’s desk was to the right, across from the XO’s secretary Rose, who left everyday right at five o’clock on the dot. 

The other two women Bess shared an office with were almost polar opposites. Rose worked punctually from eight to five every day, while Mabel was always the first to arrive between 6:45 and 7, and often the last to leave, determined to stay on post until the CO left. 

Bess fell somewhere in-between, arriving most days with her father at 8 a.m. and then pushing him to leave as early as possible. But with her father out of town, Bess was mistress of her own destiny; a mistress who apparently couldn’t bear to leave until the final details for an awards ceremony tomorrow afternoon were hammered out. 

Which is why she was perched on the corner of Mabel’s desk at 5:15, or at least it had been before Dori arrived. Waiting for her father, the CO, to return from inspections, Dori had turned the conversation to her favorite topic of late: her quest to meet Elvis Presley. Tonight she was specifically wondering if he would come to the MWR dance that weekend. This had prompted Mabel's unsolicited preference for the tall, athletic physique of Burt Lancaster.

Dori giggled. “How many times did you see From Here to Eternity when it was in theaters, huh Mabel?”

“More than I’d care to admit, Ms. Crenshaw.” Mabel lowered her bifocals as she hit her typewriter keys slowly, looking down every few seconds at some hand written notes. “And every time they play it on TV or show it here.”

“And how many times did you see Jailhouse Rock, huh, Bess?” Dori teased.

Bess blushed. “Only once.”

Mabel paused her typing and picked up her cigarette again. “I have the feeling Bess has turned sour on those Presley pictures. You should have seen her last week, damn near punched a dent in her desk after a reporter ran her off the road.”

“Ah, no, Bess loves Elvis.” Dori checked her lipstick before putting her compact back into her purse. “She’s lying too. I remember seeing Jailhouse Rock with you and the soldier on duty said you’d been to our sweet 'lil ol base theater every night that week.”

Bess fixed Dori with a grimace, mumbling defensively. “That was Loving You, and I only saw it three times. People were talking through it the first two times.��� She shifted, rolling her thigh over Mabel’s desk as she balanced herself. “I didn’t care for Jailhouse Rock, though, kinda thought the main character was a jerk.“

“Oh honey, that’s what made it so good.” Dori’s high voice vaulted up the ceiling “Don’t you just find him scrum-diddly-umptious actin’ all tough and mean, but then being hung up on his lil ole manager the whole time?”

Bess straightened the stack of files on her lap.

“No, Dori, I don’t care for quiet, mean, brooding types who can’t just be a man and tell me how they feel, playin' mind games instead. And, as for Elvis, honestly I can take him or leave him. There are twenty thousand men on this base.” Bess straightened her ponytail, balancing her files on her lap as she spoke. “Why, I could find you ten Mississippi tall boys who can play gee- tar and yodel at you before mail call is done…”

Bess’ voice trailed off when she noticed Dori gasp and cover her mouth with her hand, eyes wide with shock as she smacked Bess’ knee. Mabel whistled low, her eyes quickly fixing on her typewriter as Bess shifted around on the big desk.

“What? What is it….” Bess’ jaw fell open and dropped her files to the ground. She felt them slip over her skirt on their way, unable to stop them, it was as if she had forgotten how to use her hands. No, all she could do was cringe with embarrassment at Elvis’ downward smirk as his eyes flitted up to look at her.

“Oh cluck a fuck, I mean fuck a duck - I mean, oh cluck!” Bess heard herself cry out reflexively, then remembering how to move, she scrambled to pick up her papers. She was grateful for Dori’s unflappable poise as the blonde hopped over Bess’ hunched body on the ground and introduced herself to Elvis, adding:

“Please excuse my friend there, she flunked outta finishin’ school.”

Bess watched Elvis kiss Dori’s extended hand with mild amusement as she squealed and smiled and unleashed her excitement onto him, her hand already on his chest.

“I been prayin’ every day to run into you, Elvis - Oh, may I call you Elvis?”

“Yessum, I -”

“Oh good! See, I knew we’d be great friends, I just knew we would! I have been all over this base hopin’ to run into you. Why, we’re all just pleased as punch ta have ya round here, aren’t we?”

She turned to see Bess still on all fours, curly brown hair half loose from her ponytail, while behind her Mabel looked up and grunted softly in salutation before continuing to type. 

Mabel’s cranky glare and Bess’ antics on the floor did not create the mood Dori had envisioned for her first meeting with Elvis Presley. She looked down and her broad smile wavered for a moment as she realized the top button of Bess’ shirt was undone, revealing her bra completely. Dori’s painted pink lips popped as she nudged Bess with the tip of her heel and whispered through her teeth.

“Stand up, Bess honey, fo-ar gawd’s sake, ya shirt!”

Bess jumped up, fixing herself as a big red blush grew over her face, made worse as Elvis caught her eye with a wink. Mabel stopped typing for a moment and motioned for Bess to come and look at something while Dori kept right on talking to Elvis with her hand now firmly around his bicep.

“Now, don’t pay no mind to Bessie’s talk about you and your pictures, why, we’re all big Elvis fans round here, the biggest fans ya ever met.”

Elvis cocked his eyebrows up at Bess’ simmering glare from where she now stood behind Mabel’s chair.

“Huh, yeah, that’s sweet of ya, ma’am -”

Dori put her finger to Elvis' lip. “Dori, honey, puhleeze!”

“ - Uh, Dori.” Elvis’ spoke carefully, as if forming every word in the back of his throat before speaking out, his voice was soft and shy. “I don't s’pect everyone to like all my pictures. After all, I didn’t write them, it’s just a job to me.” He winked again at Bess. “S’pose I mind even less if they like some of my other movies. Like ‘em enough to see ‘em every night a tha week.”

Bess felt her cheeks redden even more, but before she could think of a clever reply, Mabel elbowed her and pointed at the XO’s handwriting.

“Can you read that? It looks like repercussion, but it could be reprimand as well.”

Bess picked up the legal pad for closer inspection and turned to the others, motioning for Dori to come take a look. She hadn’t expected Elvis to follow, but he did, making himself right at home and angling his tall body behind the women. 

He snuck his hand around Bess’ waist as he looked at the writing Dori held up for him, eyes forward and completely detached from the movements of his fingers rubbing along the waistband of Bess’ skirt until she pulled them off. This made her stumble to the side and gave Elvis an excuse to openly grab her waist and steady her, She frowned, flustered by the way his long fingers navigated the crease right where her waist met her ribs, his thumbs squeezing tightly and then rubbing gently over her as he asked if she was ok. 

Pushing Elvis’ hands away, Bess whispered that she was fine, trying to slow her pulse and still the shivers that ran up her spine. Her whole body trembled, aware of his proximity to her, and she refused to meet Dori’s now extremely curious eyes over Elvis’ shoulder. Nodding, he turned back to the others and helped himself to the paper, declaring that it was repercussion as he introduced himself to Mabel, kissing her hand, and asking her about the tiny, porcelain figurines on her desk as she giggled.

“That’s Lady and Lola, my brother brought them back to me from Japan. Are you a dog person, Private?”

Bess made her way back to her desk, taking in the youthful bloom of Mabel’s beaming face and girlish laughter. She had never seen her co-worker this cheerful and open before. Dori’s face was aghast as Elvis ignored her and made himself comfortable on Mabel’s desk, asking her for a cigarette and then turning with a conspiratorial whisper as he asked them not to tell anyone. 

Dori began tapping her fingers along her crossed arms harder as she watched Elvis put his hand on Mabel’s shoulder, while the older woman batted his thigh and chuckled at his jokes about dogs. Bess smiled to herself at the way Dori tried to wrest the conversation back by talking about how she used to have the sweetest lil ol’ poodle in the world when she was a girl. But it was an uphill battle, because now Mabel was pulling out her secret tin of homemade shortbread and asking Elvis what he thought. He had to try five pieces before he could adequately decide his verdict, and he moaned as if he had never had shortbread before. His voice was low as he stuttered “Mmm hmmm mmm hmm mmm” in a hum, and Bess dropped her pen when he caught her eye and licked his lips, proclaiming through crumbly mouthfuls that it was “the best doggone cookie he’d had in a long while.”

Bess shook her head at Elvis’ transformation from the shy soldier who had walked into the office to the confident, cocky rascal he was now, only minutes later. Elvis was masterful, she mused, and it was down to the attentive way he looked at each person he spoke with, talking to you as if you were the most important person in the world and responding to everything you said and did with his eyes. No, with his whole body really, she thought. He had a magnetic energy that had drawn her in the moment they met Friday. Now that same magnetic energy was doing its work on Dori and Mabel before her very eyes, as he engaged with them in a way that was humble, considerate and disarming. Some soldiers were stiff and uncomfortable here in the front office where there were often three to five women bustling about. Elvis on the other hand, seemed to be in his element amidst a group of women vying for his attention.

Bess found, to her own chagrin, that this included herself and was disappointed by her own desire to get his attention. She held out until she could no longer help it and interrupted their conversation with a loud, authoritative cough.

“I’m sure you didn’t come to our building to talk about puppy dogs and shortbread, Private, we don’t want to keep you from your tasks or the mess hall.”

Elvis turned to look at her from where he sat on Mabel’s desk and began throwing his olive patrol cap from hand to hand as he gulped.

“Uh, well ma’am, actually, I came up here hoping to get a word with you, Bessie. Uh, I mean Miss Schwartz.”

Now it was Bess’ turn to swallow and once again avoid Dori’s questioning eyes. Mabel’s eyes snapped down to her typing, her face back to being an expressionless stone wall.

“Sure thing, um, walk me to my car? I just, I was just about to leave, I just, uh, need to put these in the Commander’s office.”

As she walked back to her father’s desk, she heard Dori’s voice ring out behind her.

“I didn’t know you were acquaintances with Bessie. That busy bee, she really gets around this base, huh? I reckon she knows more soldiers than the rest of us combined.” Bess smiled to herself at Dori’s insinuation. “ Are you here to ask her to the dance?”

“Uh, no ma’am, Dori, Miss. I, uh, reckon it's better for me to keep a low profile this weekend, let the boys enjoy their night.”

“Well, you know, that attitude might give our boys the wrong impression, like. Make the guys think you fancy yourself too good for our simple, lil ole MWR dance.”

“Uh - well- “ Elvis’ face lit up when Bess rejoined them and they shared a lingering smile that Dori vowed to interrogate Bess about later.

“Oh let him be, Doreen,” Bess murmured, her voice breathy as her heart fluttered once more at the depth of Elvis’ knowing, penetrative gaze. “Uh, he, uh, the boy, man, the man clearly doesn’t want to go. And he already knows that I don’t go on dates with soldiers.”

Mabel had stopped working again and was now chewing the edge of her glasses, leaning forward on her chin as if she was watching a soap opera unfold in front of her desk.

Dori pursed her lips and placed her right hand on her hip energetically. “Oh he does now?” She said playfully, flouncing up the bottom of her blonde bob. ”Well, Private, you’re in luck, because I do date soldiers. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

Elvis looked to Dori, then back at Bess, his confused expression transforming into a smirking wide smile as he registered Bess’ frown. Bess looked down, picking at a chipped piece of her thumb nail until it came off, as if it was the most important thing in the world and needed her attention immediately.

“Huh, well, whoo boy.” Elvis eyed Bess again, then his lips screwed up into a wider grin as he chuckled mischievously. “I don’t hardly know ya, but I can’t say as that’s ever stopped me before.”

Bess’ heart did a series of flip flops as she watched Elvis laugh with Dori. She wasn’t sure what she disliked more, the fact that her friend had just maneuvered herself into a date with Elvis, or that she was jealous. Bess decided it was the later and that she would will herself not to care. 

Elvis' eyes flickered over her for a second and Bess suddenly had a sense that he could tell exactly what she was thinking and feeling in that moment, and she returned to picking at her thumb nail. She was vaguely paying attention as she heard Dori tell Elvis that she’d meet him up at his barracks Saturday night, but she thought Elvis smirked wider as he took in the smile that she forced her lips into.

“You’ll be there, won’t you, Bess. Even though you don’t date soldiers?” Dori looked at her, adding another few fluffs to her hair for absolutely no good reason.

“Hmmmm. Well, I usually do, since the CO encourages all the single female employees to go, but I did have some research st—”

“Don’t be silly, of course you’ll come, it’s gonna be so much fun. I can already tell. There’s gonna be a live rhythm and blues band we hired in from Houston. They are just the bee’s knees, and I’m on the MWR committee. My theme for this dance is Spring Fling, cuz it’s spring! The decorations we got are so adorable, floral Chinese lanterns y’all. I cannot wait.” Dori squeezed her hands into fists and did a little dance in place.

Elvis turned back to Mabel. “You comin’ Saturday night, Miss Maybelline?”

Mabel giggled like a school girl instead of the fifty year old woman she was.

“Every one I can make it to, CO’s memo encourages all single women on base to attend.”

Elvis took Mabel’s hand in his, softly trailing over the top as he kissed her knuckles and smiled devilishly as she giggled again.

“Well, be sure ta save a few dances for me, mmkay, honey?”

Mabel nodded with a giggle and a wink. 

Elvis’ cocky smiled followed Bess' curt nod out of the office and into the back stairs of the building where her voice echoed down the concrete stairwell.

“You know Private, I really wish you wouldn’t come to my office unannounced.” She paused two steps below him and turned around so he had to stop himself from slamming into her finger as it pointed back at him.

“Hold on a minute there, baby, now, what’s wrong with being friendly?” He grabbed her finger. “Careful where you point that thing, woman. First lesson of basic training is safety. Thought you’d a know by now.” He grasped her hand and softened it into his fist. She seemed to lose her train of thought looking up into his eyes. “What’s got your panties in a twist, Bessie Boo, you ain’t jealous, are you?”

Elvis was decidedly less polite when they were alone, Bess realized. She wasn’t sure she liked it, or the way it made her feel as she pulled her finger away and kept descending down the stairs in front of him, her voice a little shaky.

“Of Dori? No, no, not at all. In fact, that all seems to have worked out the way it should.” She shoved the door at the bottom open and headed toward her car as Elvis’ long legs made easy work of striding next to her.

“Why’s that?”

Bess turned as she got to her car.

“Cuz, well, you seem like a good match.” She smiled, trying to really mean it, trying to keep her voice cool and nonchalant. “Dori, is, well, she seems to have the sort of, um. Well, that is, she’s very glamorous. And popular. And attractive. She’s a lot like the girls you’re always with in the fan magazines. I think you’ll have a lot of fun.”

Elvis stepped closer, fixing his work cap back on his head. “So you read the fan magazines, huh? Thought you could take or leave Elvis Presley.”

Bess didn’t know if her cheeks could take the constant flushing she was experiencing. She leaned into the hood of her car, changing the topic as she spoke to the blue paint.

“Look, why did you come by my office?”

Bess leaned her back into the car, and he reached out for her waist, rubbing his hands along the sides for a moment, before taking the handle next to it and pulling it open, tilting his head to get in.

“I uh, I came by because I wanted to thank you. Think we could just talk for a spell?"

Bess swallowed and nodded. After a few moments searching, she discovered her tongue where she had left it on the roof of her mouth and did her best to eke out intelligible words. They scooted along the white vinyl car bench until Elvis got to the other side and leaned back, stretching out his arms and looking at her.

“I know'd it was you that talked to Sergeant Norwood.”

Bess looked down. “I, ugh, actually. That would be highly inappropriate of me to talk to a senior instructor in your company and ask for any special treatment.” She looked back up at him. “But, um, how’s it going?”

Elvis grinned wide. “He’s, uh, well, he’s instruction’ alright,  instructed me to come over to his house here on post after dinner most nights. He, uh, well, I uh, he lets me use his phone to call home and get a few hours of shut eye at their place. Though I preferred the bed at your house, Bessie bug. Cushioning there was better.”

Bess let out a snort as Elvis slid down to put his head in her lap, just as it had been that first night in her guest room. He pulled her right hand in his over her chest, threading his fingers through hers as he looked up into her face with apt admiration.

“Ya are the first real friend I’ve made here.”

“Hmmm. Seemed like you were doing all right making new friends upstairs.”

Elvis smirked, his squeezed his fingers between hers.

“You are jealous a Dori. Jus say tha word and I’ll take you to the dance too, baby. I could take both of you as my dates, ya know, nuff a me ta go ‘round.”

Bess tried to take her fingers back, but it was a half-hearted attempt and his hand was so much bigger than hers. Resigned, she squeezed back and sighed, looking out the window.

“Ha, I’m sure. But, no, I’m not jealous, I’m just giving you a hard time, Presley. You sure seem like a fast operator.” Bess felt an aching warmth blossom in her belly as his thumb rubbed the inside of her palm.

“Honey, I didn’t operate nothing, I’m just an innocent bystander caught in the eye of Hurricane Dori. If anyone is operatin’ fast, it’s your friend back there.”

“Yeah, well, you have to forgive her, she had a lot more going on in Savannah than she does here. We are sorely lacking in ladies’ charities and fancy galas for her to host. So Dori gets all pent up, all that energy and nothing to do with it. Maybe you can help wear her out. " Bess arched her eyebrows suggestively, her voice was light and teasing. "By dancing, I mean, of course.”

“Huh, sure. How ‘bout you? Will you have any pent up energy ya wanna dance off with an ol’ friend?”

“Ha, I’m about as old a friend to you as Dori is.”

“Nah, honey, you’re different, we go way back now. I don’t know anyone who’d risk their job to take a po’ boy like me home an feed me an’ take care a me so good.”

Elvis' eyes welled up and Bess softened, thinking he might cry. She found herself soothing the top of his forehead with her left knuckles.

“Hey, ssshhh, hey. You would have done the same for me, right? If our roles were reversed and I was a new recruit being trained for combat?”

The left side of Elvis’ face lifted into a crooked grin. Bess was transfixed watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Course, course I would. You know, I’ve spent the last two years running from women chasing me, I reckon the Army’d be in better shape if they’d put ya girls into combat. Ain’t nothing more terrifying than a hoard of twenty thousand screaming girls coming for ya.”

“Ha, yeah, probably makes basic training seem like a breeze.”

Bess smiled down at Elvis, and made her fist into a fake microphone, affecting a serious, transatlantic accent like the reporters at his press conference last week.

“So, Private Presley, what do you think, is basic training harder or easier than running from women for a living?”

Elvis chuckled. His right hand let go of Bess’ fingers and snaked around her waist. “Well, ain’t nothing like getting clobbered by a swarm of women. I s’pose the main difference between those girls and the Russians is, they don’t mean to hurtcha. They’re just tryin’ to get themselves a piece of ya for a souvenir.”

Bess’ raised one eyebrow, her reporter microphone hand still at attention.

“Oh? Please tell us, the American people want to know, which piece of you are these girls trying to get their hands on?”

Elvis burst out laughing. “Uh, no comment, though I could show you later if you want.”

Bess blushed at the glint in his eyes, and kept talking. “Hmm, fresh. Next question, how devastating was it to get your haircut?”

“Well, now, that didn’t bother me none at all. You know what they say, hair today, gone tomarra."

He paused, grinning at her tepid "Ha. ha. ha."

"But no, I ain't sore. Now, if it weren’t never gonna grow back, yeah, sure, maybe I’d be sore, but I don’t mind following the rules and cutting my hair like all the other boys here. I’m actually starting to like it.”

Bess combed her fingers through his crew cut.

“MMhmmm. I liked it better long, but you know me, I hate soldiers.”

“Picked a weird place to work then, Bessie, ain’t nothing but soldiers here.”

“This is just temporary, till I figure out what’s next for me.”

Elvis looked down towards his knees, speaking softly. “Yeah, jus temporary. That’s what my manager keeps sayin’, but man oh man, I think it’s all over for me. Ain’t no one gonna remember me in two years.”

“That’s not true. Trust me, it just feels that way. How many records you sold?”

Elvis leaned his face into her fingers as they cupped his cheek, he could feel Bess’ thighs tremble slightly underneath her skirt and it made him smile. He looked up at her big brown eyes sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘bout 25 million I s’pose.” His voice was casual and aloof til he cried out at the smack of Bess’ hand hitting his shoulder.

“Ha, I would have guessed 4 or 5 million. 25? I can’t even picture a stack that high. It would go all the way to the moon, probably. You’re thick, you know that? Like we could forget you with all those records out there, spinning 'round in people’s homes, on the radio. No, I think the Russians would have to bomb us to kingdom come before we forget about you, what with 25 million records playing all over. ”

“You’re sweet, Bess, you know that? My uncle used to have a cow named Bess.” He grinned up at her and made a moo sound. “Lil' Bessie Moo Moo, she was sweet, just like you… Moo Moo.” His voice tapered off as Elvis' hand began to trail up the side of Bess’ body. His voice became low and earnest. “She had the sweetest milk.”

Bess shivered at the touch of his fingers before pulling her head toward him. Just as she was an inch away from his lips, she stopped him, and tilted back up, fake microphone fist in her hand again between their faces.

“And, I know our listeners will want to know this important detail, where exactly was this cow, Private, Memphis?” She was the reporter again, and her heart thumped with a beat of regret as she took in the split second of disparagement that played across his face as she lifted her lips away from his. But then it was gone and he was back to playing cool with a grin. 

“Nah, back in Tupelo where I was borned and raised.”

“Tupelo, huh? Well, tell us Presley, why does all the good rock and roll music come from that part of the country, places like  Mississippi, Tennessee?”

Elvis nestled his head back into Bess’ thighs, scrunching up his lips as he thought.

“Don’t know, I guess we jus have a history of it, it's a place where ya got Black rhythm and blues and country and western, spiritual music. It's in the air we breathe down there, I guess, gets all jumbled up and out comes rock ‘n’ roll.”

“Well, Private, is rock n’ roll the secret weapon we’ve all been waiting for to take down communism and restore civilization to Eastern Europe and Russia? And if so, when are you being sent over enemy lines?”

“Now, maybe you’re on ta something there, pretty sure it’s already destroyed civilization state side.”

“Oh, definitely, the very fabric of our society is crumbling, just ask any parent and they’ll tell you that their teenager hates school and wants to have sex, all because of rock ’n’ roll. No teenager ever felt that way before they heard your music.”

“Huh, you’re a smart ass, you know that?”

“I’ve been a smart ass since you met me. Try to keep up, Tupelo.”

“Huh, yeah, ya a piece of work, lil' Moo Moo. And ya asking for it talkin’ to a man like that.”

Elvis pinched her soft, springy sides as he chuckled. Anyone walking by the blue Ford would have only seen Bess’ silhouette sitting up, head tilted back in a deep, guttural laugh for the first time in almost a year, as Elvis lay back in her lap, tickling and pinching her. They sat in her car for another hour, as Bess fussed over a cluster of razor burn below his ear, and he asked her about her life, getting to know as much about her as she was willing to reveal until she had to push him off her lap to go meet Sargeant Norwood, dismissing his offer to come back to her house and show her that souvenir all the gals were chasing after

************************************************************************

Read Chapter Three Here

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[generic-whumperz]

Vinny (Character Sheet)

Picrew

Playlist | Masterlist | Character Info

Playing opposing roles as Wyatt's partner in crime and Waylon's inside man, Vinny skillfully navigates the tumultuous dynamics between his older cousins, guided by genuine love and loyalty.

After The Aid's shocking murder attempt on Wyatt, Vinny took it upon himself to assume a greater role as The Aid's keeper, a move that revealed his pragmatic understanding of the asset's value to the Sullivans' empire and his surprising knack for diplomacy. When not attempting to broker moments of harmony between Wyatt and The Aid or covering supply runs for the family business Waylon mans, Vinny fuels his own destructive habits with Wyatt—recklessly hitting casinos and bars before scoring a bag to split for the night. Vinny is fiercely driven by his desire to help maintain family power and status in Apocamerica's supply chain, quelling both brothers by serving Waylon by day and partying with Wyatt by night. Despite his twisted, one-sided “friendship” with The Aid, his unwavering kinsmanship with Wyatt outweighs all as they both share a hunger for twisted delights–and Wyatt knows just how to fan the flames of his wild side.

Full name: Vincent Warren Sullivan (Vinny)

Role: secondary antagonist, Whumper/part-time Carewhumper

Date of Birth & sign: June 1, 1985 (47), Gemini (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: pansexual

Height: 6'2"

Weight/body type/build: 180lbs-ish. Wiry, long-limbed, a bit pigeon-chested.

Hometown: Newark, New Jersey

Family Members: Sullivan family tree. He bounces around a lot because of work but basically lives with Wyatt. Very close with Wyatt and Waylon, basically their brother.

Left/right handed: right

Fav genre of music & anthem: 90s & early 2000s rap (claims East Coast is superior, yet his anthem is a West Coast classic), How I Could Just Kill A Man by Cypress Hill

Occupation: "Independent contractor." Jack of all trades and Waylon's right hand: fixer, security, transportation guard, caporegime (capo), hitman, former Army medic, torturer and snuff film cameraman. Somehow knows a little something about everything and always "knows a guy." He didn't get his HS diploma or GED; instead, he joined the Army soon after he got out of Juvie.

Ethnicity (+ American): Italian, French, Greek, English, Romanian, Bulgarian, Turkish, Serbian, Armenian

Hair color & length: dark brown/brown-black wavy mid-length grown-out hair. Usually combed and slicked back to make it look straighter than it is, shaved down on the sides with an undercut. Some chest hair, but not super hairy. He is usually clean-shaven around his signature petite goatee.

Hygiene: looks like he smells like an ashtray and liquor, and usually does. Not the best hygiene, also not the worst, somewhere in the middle, but is more up-kept when on the job. He uses minimal products and will just dose himself with cologne to mask the cigarette and vodka smell. But he takes good care of his teeth and has a collection of grillz, usually sportin' gold tooth caps on both canine teeth + inlay, and gold trip gap filler between front teeth (pictures below).

Eye color: pale, steely blue, almond-shaped, and hooded eyes.

Skin tone: olive with cool undertones. He can get a lot darker if he gets a tan, but he is usually inside or hiding under shade if outside, so he's rather pale.

Facial features: long, inverted triangle-shaped head. Thin, boxy upper lip mouth. Long, downturned, Roman nose. Straight eyebrows with little to no arch. Narrow ears. Narrow jaw, long chin. Long, thick eyelashes that make him look like he's wearing eyeliner. He usually has bags under his eyes because he's running on nothing but 3 hours of sleep, caffeine, and coke.

Mannerisms: clicks tongue or runs tongue over his gold teeth, sniffs/wrinkles nose, clears throat, and purses lips frequently. Lots of face twitching. If he's not smoking, he's smacking on some gum or snacking on gummy candy. Fidgety, has a hard time sitting still, therefore he’s either pacing or bouncing a knee. Bit of a jabber jaw, sings or hums tunes (someone thought they had a rap career as a youngin). Gets bored easily. Obsessively cleans his guns and knives. Resting bitch face looks like he's unamused or irritated. He snorts and laughs a lot, always cracking jokes. Files his nails daily. Cracks knuckles, neck, and back. Shuffles a deck of cards he has on hand. Checks his tackle-box drug stash he carries around like a lunch pail.

Nervous ticks: it takes a lot to make him nervous since he's spent a lifetime rubbing shoulders with gang members, spent time in juvie, in the trenches of war zones, and as a professional hit man, and has killed countless anthrophages without hesitation. He's good at maintaining a level head in stressful situations, but even he has his limits. When he's actually nervous, he'll rub his chin with his index finger, comb his fingers through hair and scratch his head, yell and punch things, may shoot off bullets into the air or throw knives at something, and in an effort to collect himself, he'll swallow hard and count backward from 5 or 10 to try to ground and calm himself. Rolls his shoulders and shakes his head as if trying to shake off the tension.

Posture: relaxed, cocky and confident. Go-to stance is the power pose with his hands on his hips or clasped in front of him (and perhaps fingers wrapped around a gun). He often leans against things with one shoulder. Uses a swagger walk with a lot of sway in his shoulders. When sitting, he's usually laid back with his legs spread or hunched over, fiddling with something in his hands. Moves a lot and shifts from side to side if he's sitting or standing—rather douchey body language.

Style: in a pressed, solid black Giorgio Armani suit with black Italian leather loafers (when working), in a dingy tracksuit with a white tank underneath, or jeans with a T-shirt or button-up and a leather jacket with motorcycle boots. Wears chains around his neck, rings, and small hoop earrings. Always strapped and always blinged out.

Guns he always has within reach—Colt 1911 Government, 45 ACP, 7 + 1, Cathedral, All 24K Gold, and GLOCK 20 Gen 4 Semi-Auto Pistol (pics).

Health: for as many drugs he does, the amount of cigarettes he smokes, and the volume of alcohol he drinks, he's surprisingly healthy—or as healthy as he can be. He works out a few times a week and gets in his cardio with jogging and boxing. Agile and can fight. He doesn't have the best diet but thinks eating a salad every other day, chugging protein shakes, and eating trail mix is the secret to his health success. Enjoys a good smoothie creation with The Aid, and it doubles as a small, weird thing they bond over.

Piercings/tattoos: ears pierced and wears small rings, bunch of tattoos—like too many for me to go into detail right now. Here are some tat ideas I swiped off Pinterest (I didn't make any of these) to give an idea, a tat mood board, if you will.

Birthmarks/scars: scar around his neck from when a gang of kids tried to strangle him to death with a wire in juvie. He has a lot of scars from fighting and his time in the Army, but covered them up with tats.

Language(s): English. Thinks he knows Italian, doesn’t.

Personality: dependable. Loyal. Sycophant to rivals. Cleaver. Resourceful. Quick-witted. Surprisingly competent and knowledgeable. The embodiment of controlled chaos. Voyeuristic. Talkative. Spontaneous. Fidgety. Protective. Restless. Sarcastic. Tough. Cocky. Dangerous. Rowdy. Violent. Noisy. Impulsive. Vulgar. Aggressive. Pragmatic. Inquisitive. Can be cruel and debaucherous. Teasing. Eager. Can take on a mediator role between Waylon and Wyatt, or Wyatt and The Aid. Oddly, he reserves a gentler soft side (as gentle and soft as he can get, that is) for The Aid. Low-key psychotic and dominant (as are all Sullivans).

Vices: benzos (Xanax), cigs, coke (lines or rubs it on his gums, but refuses to smoke it because that's "crackwhore behavior"), shots of hard liquor (preferably Cîroc or Gray Goose vodka). Shooting things. Breaking shit. Throwing knives or darts. Going on a ride on his motorcycle. Dismembering anthrophages or cutting up an already dead cow at the slaughterhouse.

Voice: raucous, sarcastic, and neurotic. Has a thick New Jersey accent. Kinda raspy. Sounds animated and expressive with a wide range of tones, pitches, and speeds.

Smells like: burnt rubber and oil from doing donuts on his bike. Cigs, alcohol, leather, and too much cologne, probably something like Gucci Guilty, or GIORGIO ARMANI Acqua Di Gio.

Face claim(s): Adrian Brody.

Character inspiration: put all these guys in a blender, add ice, and shake it up, and you have yourself a Vinny smoothie—Vincent Vega (Pulp Fiction), Edward Blake/ The Comedian (Watchmen), Todd Alquist (Breaking Bad & El Camino), Mickey Milkovich (Shameless).

Other: Admittedly, my second favorite Sullivan.

Moodboard

[chiquititaosita]

monster trio reacting to you playing chicano hip hop, and lowrider jams part 1

post type: headcanon

reader: latina reader

summary: you show them new music and they’re reactions are unpredictable.

ft: monster trio luffy,zoro, and sanji

bear note: the second songs that I link are for part two’s future post 🤭

Luffy

‣ totally interested into the music

‣ “I LIKE THAT PART!! OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!” he loves the talk box 😭❤️

-dances like a fucking idiot with you, and makes you dance with him.

-he’ll be screaming these specific lyrics

-“you stood out from the group across the room! I had to keep my attention on you!!!!”

‣ he’s definitely a fan! Of nb ridaz. For sure will go to any concert if they’re performing at any island the straw hats land.

‣ “eres la princesa qUe Me VUELE lOCOOOOOO!!!!!!” HES even got chopper, usopp and sanji on this song 🤦🏽‍♀️

‣ the minute y’all play this song after a while, luffy will scream on the top of this lungs to every song that’s on. it’s adorable 😭❤️

-“HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU BABY!? THAT YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY!! A GOOD CRAZY!” he was just singing random lyrics from this group. Since the group had made new songs. He follows MC Magic (the guy who does the talk box) and loves this one song which I’ll link here

‣ you do not understand, you’ve showed him a new world to Chicano music and lowrider jams…. he didn’t even know that was, until then he’ll stick to it.

‣ His mixtapes are full of 90s rap and hip hop and some cumbias

Zoro

‣ he’s just like….what?

‣ “ I hate it.” he lied he loved

‣ he snickered at the part where chino grande says “baby gorl don’t cry 🫦”

-he wanted to do that for Halloween the makeup so y’all did that.

-hums the tune when sharpening his swords.

‣ “why are you playing it again?” You ask him?

‣”you like the song don’t you?”

‣”yeah-“

‣”then don’t complain.” He pouted because he secretly loves it

‣ “is youuuu.. and I wouldn’t trade it…” he’ll bop his head to the song, and tap his feet to it..

bear note- since tiktok ate this song I’ll give you part two.

Sanji

‣ “how do you know that song?” He was shocked and his heart was fluttering

‣ he’ll ask you because his mom would always sing a certain song to him when he was little. He told you it would always have him sound asleep, or leave a smile on his face.

‣“I’ve always heard this song playing when I was little. It stuck with me.” you sigh in nostalgia and happiness where you had those moments at the flea markets with your family eating elotes, tacos and street food.

‣“dance with me.” you’ll grab his hand and hug on his sleeve.

‣”as you wish my darling, just let me start it over again.” He puffed out his cigarette placing it on his ashtray. Starting the track over on the speaker.

‣ “remember when I told you about my mother singing me a certain song if I ever felt sad, or frustrated?” he gazed at you eagerly. You nodded in response and smiled at the fact you knew what he was going to say

‣”is this the song?”

‣”yeah…..” he explained how it was a comfort to him after him opening up to you about his family. you never felt so bad for such a man who has such a loving presence and a very big heart.

‣”ill try my best to sing it for you as often as I can.” He’ll whisper into your ear before kissing your temple, and tell you how lucky he is to have you.

‣ after a few days ago by when y’all land to a new island, the song plays again from a live band. You smile at him “may I have this dance amor?”

‣ he giggled and took your hand “yes yes you may.” He’ll kiss the tip of your nose, and sing in your ear. The way this man sings is heavenly 🥰

‣ “my angel baby is what I am going to call you from now on..” he’ll mumble as a blush appears on his face.

‣ it’s now your theme song. because he sings it or hums it all the time when he’s with you.

‣ so now anything with angels, or anything that says angel baby he buys it for you 😭❤️

‣any song with oldies he’s in love for real 🥰

[anon-apple]

Hot Soup And Soft Bread 2

Table of Contents and Synopsis <- Chapter 1

T/N: Chapter on WordPress if anyone prefers reading there.

Chapter 2: Chocomonts II

After getting off work past 7 pm, Zhong Qiuyan stood outside the roast duck shop in the East City food market. In the rotating oven, a couple of oily, crispy, roasted ducks rode the final merry-go-rounds of their lives. A typhoon was passing through this part of the country, and the rain hadn’t stopped in the past few days. Qiuyan took off his cap and stared blankly at the evening news playing on the wall-mounted television. 

Apparently, the second season of Rose Garden ended badly. Apparently, a patient at the People’s Hospital accidentally ate the medicine for the patient in the next bed and fell into a coma. Qiuyan received his order of half a roasted duck, already sliced, from the shop owner. He smiled, eyes curving, and said “Thanks.” He then drove to Qin Qin Homeland, intending to bring the roasted duck to Liu Xiaoying and Zhou Cunqu to supplement their dinner.

Qiuyan parked his car downstairs. A pair of old men, twins, who lived on the second floor of Building No.3 were sitting in the entranceway of someone else’s garage playing a game of Go. The two of them gossiped about Liu Xiaoying’s family as they played. Qiuyan, holding the roast duck, walked up to listen. The two old men fanned themselves at the exact same pace, and whenever one spoke, the other would echo his words.

“Right, he hasn’t stepped outside in two years already. It’s a big deal.” “Right, it’s a big deal.”

Qiuyan squatted down next to them: “Why hasn’t he gone out for two years?”

One of the old men fanned himself as he replied: “I heard he used to be an architect. Maybe some accident happened.” “Maybe some accident happened.”

Cunqu asked as he held the box of roast duck: “What kind of accident?”

One old man placed a black playing stone onto the board, the other followed with a white stone, saying: “Not sure, do you know?” “Not sure, do you know?”

“I don’t know.” “I don’t know.”

Cunqu asked again: “And so these past two years he hasn’t left the building at all?”

An old man nodded, replying: “Haven’t seen him downstairs.” “Definitely haven’t seen him downstairs.”

As Cunqu was about to get up and leave, one old man grabbed him and asked: “Where did the roast duck come from?” “Where did the roast duck come from?”

-- 

When Cunqu made his way upstairs, Xiaoying was sitting by herself on the sofa folding laundry. She had already eaten. Underneath the heat-insulating cover on the dining table were the dishes left out for Qiuyan and Cunqu. Qiuyan placed the roast duck down on the table, asking, “Ge hasn’t eaten either?”

Xiaoying turned and gave him a look, saying: “Eat your own food.”

Qiuyan sat down and took a bite of the red braised pork, complementing: “Liu Xiaoying, this is delicious.” After he ate and washed his dishes, he squeezed himself onto the sofa and started helping Xiaoying fold the laundry. The rain outside came down harder and harder.

Xiaoying suddenly spoke up: “His appetite’s fickle. Sometimes, he won’t eat for a couple of days in a row.”

Qiuyan replied “Oh” as he folded Cunqu’s grey pajamas. Xiaoying stopped what she was doing, and looked at the TV screen. 

“Sometimes, he won’t even sleep.” 

Indeed, Cunqu often could not fall asleep. At night, he’d wander back and forth in Xiaoying’s condo. He’d sit out on the balcony and smoke. And then he’d go back the next day, thoroughly clean up the tea jar he was using as a makeshift ashtray, and place it back to where it was. Xiaoying no longer tried to tell him to smoke less, or to tell him not to smoke at all.

But she would leave out the Chocomonts she bought for him on the coffee table. And she would leave out a blanket on the sofa. Xiaoying had been a teacher her whole life. She had four kids, and many more students, colleagues, and friends. But ever since Cunqu moved in, Xiaoying stopped inviting any of them over to her home.

The only exception was last week when Cunqu’s aunt came over to discuss the matters of Xiaoying’s 80th birthday celebration. Later that night, Xiaoying sat on the sofa with the blanket draped over her. When Cunqu left his bedroom to get water, Xiaoying spoke to him. Her hair was down, draped loose over her shoulders, and smile lines decorated her eyes. “For my 80th celebration, will you attend with me?”

Cunqu stilled, with a cup of water in his hands. Xiaoying shook her head and said, “It’s alright if not.”

--

2 am at night, Cunqu sat on the sofa and pulled the blanket over himself. He grabbed the box of Chocomonts. On the box was a sticky note: Ge, it’s Zhong Qiuyan. Open the topmost drawer of the coffee table.

Cunqu bent down, pulled open the drawer, and took out what was inside. On top of the box he took out was another sticky note: Ge, I’m giving you my Anpanman[1] nightlight. Whenever I can’t sleep, I always switch it on.

Cunqu pressed the on button of the nightlight. The entirety of Anpanman’s figure glowed, and the light that landed on the floor reminded him of fragments of stars. Cunqu hugged his legs and stared blankly at the fragmented light rays. 

--

The following night, Cunqu found a note on the fridge door. Zhong Qiuyan wrote: Liu Xiaoying and I made a beverage perfect for this rainy season. Dear guest, please open the fridge and have a taste.

And so Cunqu obediently opened the fridge door and poured himself a glass of juice. He mulled over the taste for a while. He tasted pear, avocado, and chia seeds. Cunqu sat by the dining table and finished the entire glass, then walked to the balcony to have a smoke. It’s been quite a few days, but he had only one real face-to-face encounter with Zhong Qiuyan. He was rather tall and broad, and his eyes were naturally curved downwards at the ends. Whenever he smiled, he gave the impression that he was genuinely happy. Cunqu, his hair spilling onto his shoulders, held a cigarette between his fingers and blew out a breath of smoke towards the sheets of rain outside. 

On the third night, Cunqu found a sticky note on his ashtray: Do you like water lilies?

He doesn’t know why Qiuyan was asking this. But the next night, he saw a small purple water lily on the dining room table. Xiaoying wasn’t the type to waste money on flowers. Qiuyan had left a note on the flower vase saying: I planted this myself in my parents’ flowerbed. It’s currently the flowering season for water lilies. It blooms only in the daytime, remember to come out and take a look.

Cunqu stroked the petals of the water lily. He had almost forgotten the texture of a real plant. That night, Cunqu discovered for the first time how pleasant a water lily smells. 

The following morning, Xiaoying moved the flower onto the balcony after she woke up. She headed downstairs for her morning exercises while yawning. Qiuyan, who had a day off from work, ran into her downstairs and asked for the keys. 

When he opened the door, he saw that Cunqu’s bedroom door was open. Qiuyan looked around the living room and finally found him leaning against the railings of the balcony, watching the yet-to-open purple flower bud. That day was the first sunny day in a while. Wearing a tank top, Cunqu raised his head and pulled all of his hair back into a ponytail. He leaned over the railing as he watched for the purple water lily to bloom. On the side of his earlobe was a small mole, almost resembling an ear piercing.

Cunqu stood there and waited aimlessly, as if he had all the time to spare. Occasionally he would lean in and smell the flower.

And Qiuyan from behind, still clutching the keys, stared at him.

--

Aside from the few times he’d come out to look at the water lily, Cunqu still rarely showed his face in the daytime. Qiuyan worriedly asked Xiaoying: “Won’t he be calcium-deficient like this?”

Xiaoying almost laughed out loud. 

They were currently standing next to the dining table folding dumplings and wontons. Xiaoying instructed Qiuyan, and Qiuyan stood at attention, folding the dumpling skins as he replied: “Yes, teacher Liu. Understood, teacher Liu.”

They placed the fruits of their battle into the freezer. Qiuyan stuck a sticky note on the fridge door, writing: The second section of the freezer has celery and pork dumplings as well as mushroom and pork dumplings. Those who have tried it reported their backs and legs stopped hurting; they may supplement calcium. The dumplings make for a good night-time snack, remember to eat them. (Zhong Qiuyan)

When Cunqu left his bedroom that night, he stared at the sticky note for quite some time. The next day, after Qiuyan left, Cunqu came out for a glass of water. Xiaoying asked from behind him: “Does it bother you when that kid Zhong Qiuyan comes over? When Grandma gets her cast removed there won’t be any problems anymore. I can tell him to stop coming over.”

Cunqu lifted his head and drank half the glass of water. He then ran his hand through his hair, lightly replying: “I, don’t mind.”

Xiaoying looked at him. Cunqu took his glass, walked back towards the bedroom, and said once more, “I don’t mind.” 

Footnotes

[1]  The protagonist of a Japanese comic book series by the same name. He’s a superhero with red bean bread as his head.

T/N: I'm also posting these translations onto a WordPress blog for better formatting (especially for footnotes!) Feel free to read there if you guys prefer :)

Chapter 3: Chocomonts III ->

[hakugreenfinch]

Iggy the Stray Dog - ch2 (1/2)

Author: Otsuichi

Original concept: Araki Hirohiko

Originally published: JOJO Magazine 2022 Spring

*** This is a fan translation made purely for entertainment. Please do not repost/reuse/etc without my permission and credit! ***

Note: Since the next three chapters are very long and I don't want to keep you waiting forever, I decided to split them up into 2-3 parts. Thank you for your patience, I'm super excited to deliver the rest of this short novel!

Manhattan Island is located at the mouth of the Hudson river. It is four kilometers in width, twenty kilometers in length, a sandbank elongated in a north-south direction. Navigator Henry Hudson discovered it in 1609 and it is said that the Dutch East India Company purchased it from Native Americans for 24 dollars in 1626. Its name Manhattan translates to „the island of many hills” in their language.

The morning after my arrival, the air is still clouded by yellow. White steam rises from the gutters all over. I buy a toasted sandwich at a corner store to eat. Crispy bacon and fresh lettuce are held between fragnant bread.

I take the subway on my way to the city center to participate in the „stray dog hunt”. Passing ticket control and ascending the stairs, I find myself in a desolate place. It is a district with empty bear cans lying around and closed shutters of shops bearing graffiti. On one side stands a brick building, the ground floor offices of which belong to a company specializing in pest extermination.

Its name is Reliable Pest Control Services, or RPCS for short. In addition to pest control, they undertake everything from vermin extermination and cleaning up buildings to waste management. At this time, the Speedwagon Foundation has contacted the manager, requesting their help capturing Iggy in exchange for financial support.

As I state the purpose of my visit at the reception desk, a large, middle-aged Spaniard shows up. His stern face looks like it was carved from stone, and three vertical lines run down across his right eye – they seem to be claw marks.

„You’re Avdol, right? The chief told me about you. So you wanna catch that damn Boston Terrier?”

„My American friend has entrusted me with this request.”

„I’ll let you watch, just make sure you’re not bothering us!”

„All right. For now, I would like to study your work. I won’t intervene or disturb you, I’ll just watch from a distance.”

„Admirable attitude, Egyptian.”

The Spaniard leads me inside the office. It is like a labyrinth of miscellaneous packages piled up on top of each other with desks, blackboards, a billiard table, a darts board and empty liquor bottles in the gaps between them. On an old sofa set, four men are gathered, exhaling cigarette smoke and playing poker.

„These guys are my team,” introduces them the Spaniard. The men put down their cards, turning their gazes to me, as if to observe me.  They all have vulgar faces. One of them clicks his tongue, putting out the cigarette he’s been smoking on an ashtray. He is a large, white man resembling a rugby player.

„So you’re the Foundation’s buddy? The chief told us if we keep an eye out for you the Speedwagon Foundation would pay us a nice sum. But y’know, this is a lot of extra work for us.”

„I will not bother you. All I wish is to stand by and watch your work from a distance, to see how the dog could be captured. I don’t believe that would increase your work at all.”

„You coming with us means you’ll be taking up a seat in the car. We’ll have to take less equipment like that!”

They are going to drive to Manhattan Island in two cars, one of them a van equipped with dog cages. The space in the vehicles is crammed with all sorts of nets and traps, tranquilizer guns and such. It appears that with my participation, they can load a lot less into the cars. The Spaniard tries to calm down the man.

„Hey, don’t say that. It’s not like animal traps are any good against that Boston Terrier, we’d be bringing them for nothing.” He pulled me away from the men. „They’re just pissed because that shitty dog got the best of them.”

„What do you mean by animal traps?”

„Cages you can’t leave once you’re caught in them, like bear traps. You know bear traps, right? Like the Gustave Courbet painting, „Fox caught in a trap”? The iron trap that the fox’s leg is stuck in. But no such trap can catch that Boston Terrier, they were useless even with his favourite coffee chewing gum inside. I don’t know how but he just ran away with the chewing gum, without triggering the trap.”

A map hangs on the wall, the places where Iggy have been spotted marked on it. He has been seen all over Manhattan. Wall Street, Times Square, he even seems to be frequenting the ferry to Liberty Island with the Statue of Liberty.

„I made some posters with his image and put them up all over Manhattan. I wrote on it that we’ll reward anyone that has any news, so we got some information from the citizens.”

He shows me an actual poster. Drawn on it is a foolish image of a Boston Terrier, drool dripping from his mouth.

„The claw marks on your face, was that also him?”

„A while ago we tried strike him down when he was taking a nap. We got a report and when we rushed there, he was basking in the sun, snoring like hell. I decided to shoot him with a tranquilizer gun from a distance. As I pointed the gun at him and aimed, he woke up but didn’t try to run away. He saw us and yawned without a care in the world. I pulled the trigger and a tranquilizer dart shot out. My aim was sure, no doubt about it.”

However, the dart didn’t hit its target. It flipped midair in front of the Boston Terrier, just as if it was being blocked by something invisible.

„I dunno why. Maybe it was a faulty dart, it changed its direction in the middle of its track. We had to try and catch him with a net, but that damn dog jumped up and scratched my face. He tore out some of my hair and farted once before escaping us. It’s a mystery what he ate that made him fart like that but it was putrid.”

I’m thinking about the invisible thing that was said to have deflected the tranquilizer dart. There was no way the dart was faulty. They couldn’t see it. Something invisible was present before Iggy and it protected him. I have a pretty good idea what that mysterious something could have been.

A bell’s sound echoes in the RPCS office. The staff member from the reception desk at the front entrance calls out to us. The men playing poker stand, leaving the room running.

„Where are you going?”

„The locker room. We’re changing into work clothes and leaving. Tha bell only rings when we get news of someone seeing that damn Boston Terrier. If we don’t hurry, he’ll get away!”

In a matter of minutes, they all finish changing into grey work clothes, getting inside both cars in the garage. I myself accompany them, getting inside the van carrying the cages. The van is driven by a slim, young Black man. The Spaniard sits in the passenger’s seat and I take my place behind them.

„The phone call came from someone living near the Harlem River, they saw that shitty Boston Terrier stealing chewing gum” says the Spaniard, folding out a map to check the route. The two cars take off, rushing towards the area facing Harlem River.

Inside the hurling car, I am debating whether I should tell the man with the strict face sitting before me that the Boston Terrier actually has a name. In the end, I decide not to do so. They wouldn’t care too much for what the dog’s name is anyway.

***

The north-eastern parts of Manhattan are mostly inhabited by immigrants. Most of the people passing us by are Puerto Rican or Mexican, the majority of the conversations I overhear are in Spanish. Many brown mansions stand by the riverside. The city of New York built these for low income citizens and they refer to them as a „project”. There are nearly 2900 of these „projects” in New York City, with roughly 420,000 people inhabiting them. Some apartments are used for drug trafficking, they are a hotbed for crime.

The stray dog hunting team gets out of the vehicles parking on the roadside and sets out looking around the neighborhood. I decide to stick with the Spaniard. First of all, he wants to meet and talk to the person reporting the dog.

The Spaniard approaches a young man of Latin American descent standing by a payphone on a street corner. He smells like marijuana.

„You’re the guys looking for the Boston Terrier, right?”

„Yeah. Can you tell us what you saw?”

„It was just now, like thirty minutes ago. A weird dog came out of that supermarket over there, it was eating something. The store clerk ran after it but it got away. It was black and white. I thought it was a French Bulldog but it had a slim body so I figured it was a Boston Terrier. I called the number from a poster when I saw that.”

The young man rubs his index finger and thumb together in a gesture of requesting his reward. The Spaniard hands him a couple of bank notes but he doesn’t seem impressed.

„Hey, this isn’t even enough for a beer!”

„If you have more info, I’ll give you more.”

The Spaniard sends the young man away and sets off in the direction of said supermarket. It is a small store standing in a dirty, graffiti-covered alleyway.      I call it a supermarket but it is nothing more than a private business, with colourful vegetables on its racks that look fresh and delicious. The store clerk, a fat Black woman, is standing there with a troubled look on her face. The Spaniard calls out to her.

„We heard a Boston Terrier stole some of your merchandise, is that true?”

„Yeah, just look at this!” she beckons. The Spaniard’s work clothes have the logo of his company embroidered, she must know he’s an expert of vermin extermination. Right as we step inside the supermarket we find a candy shelf. The goods have been stolen from it and the empty shelf is sticky with a clear liquid dripping off of it. „It’s just like ’Alien’, isn’t it? The movie. Have you seen it? The monster was drooling just like this.”

The store clerk furrows her brows. The Spaniard takes out a ballpoint pen from his chest pocket, picking up some of the liquid with its end and examining its viscosity and smell.

„It’s drool. Those shelves had coffee flavour chewing gum on them, am I right?”

„Exactly! A small black and white dog devoured it right here. I tried to catch it but it picked up the entire box and ran off. I reported it to the police as well, just in case, but I’m surprised to see that you guys showed up! Then again, there’s so much crime on these streets, the police must be very busy.”

Leaving the store, the Spaniard gets in touch with his men. Each of them carries a transceiver, making it possible to exchange information between each other so long as they are within a couple kilometers radius.

I decide to investigate our surroundings as well. I move through dirty alleyways scattered with trash, looking for a Boston Terrier.

The wind carries the stench of alcohol and urine. It is probably drunks standing in the alleys and taking a piss. A row of cars stand parking on the roadside. It is a lonely street with no people or cars passing by.

Someone from our team is questioning a vagrant, holding the handle of a large net. It is the white man that complained to me in the office and reminded me of a rugby player. It seems like his work clothes were about to burst with his muscles.

„Didn’t you see a dog around here? A small, black and white one. It has a short snout and it farts a lot.”

The vagrant our rugby player is looking down to is an elderly man, leaning back onto a building’s wall as he’s sitting on the ground. He put down a piece of cardboard to make his sitting place more comfortable. His mouth seems to be mumbling something in response to the rugby player’s question, however he can’t form his words properly, having lost all his teeth.

„There... right there...” The vagrant’s words come in fragments. He points a finger at the wall right across the street. I turn to the rugby player.

„I believe this old man is pointing us to around there.”

The rugby player glances at me, turning his gaze to where the vagrant is pointing.

„There’s nothin’ there. Nothin’ strange. Not a Boston Terrier, not a place where a small dog could hide.”

„But this old man is trying to bring our attention to something.”

On the other side of the line of parking cars is nothing but old brick buildings, lined up without so much as a crevice between them. The vagrant is pointing at one of those walls.

The rugby player shakes his head.

„That’s just a wall. We asked the wrong guy. Maybe he’s hallucinating!”

The vagrant, however, keeps on murmuring.

„...weird... how...? It’s gone... I don’t...”

I decide to walk across to the other side of the road.

„Hey, Egyptian! Don’t just do whatever you like! Come back here!” I hear the rugby player’s voice but I ignore him.

I approach the wall the vagrant is pointing to, and trailed a finger along it. Its surface is just slightly damp, but also coarse. It is probably the speckles of sand dancing in the wind that stick to it.

„Hey! Egyptian!”

An odd sense of discomfort comes over me. My finger tracing the wall gets caught in the corner of a brick, which then quickly crumbles. As I try to apply some force, my hand sinks into the brick wall.

„H-hey... what’s that?!”

What we thought to be a brick wall crumbles into sand. It collects into large heaps under my feet and a small alleyway appears on its other side. It looks like there isn’t a crevice between the buildings but in reality, they aren’t stuck together at all. It simply appeared so because the sand’s fine imitation made it look like they were lined up continuously. The vagrant likely found it odd that the alleyway that was supposed to be there disappeared, and tried to bring it to our attention.

Sand speckles dance around me from the collapse. When my vision clears, I realize something is hiding in the dim depths of the alleyway. It is small, small enough for me told hold in my hands.

He is chewing on something very, very loudly. He must have been hiding himself right here all along, creating a fake wall with sand.

„Is that you, Iggy?”

The moment I call his name, the chewing noises stop.

A pair of eyes appears in the dim light. I see the whites of them clearly. Apparently he still remembers his name being ’Iggy’. His self-awareness has him reacting to me calling his name.

Someone grabs my shoulder from behind with great force. It is the rugby player.

„Hey, hey, hey! There he is! I thought it was sand dancing, but there’s a street there now?  Looks like a dead end, so I guess he’s got no choice but to come over here, huh?” He fixes the net in his hands and takes off in the alley’s direction.

„Hey, wait!”

In response to the rugby player approaching him, he gets up on his four legs in the dark. His form is that of a small dog’s, but something is manifesting behind him.

The speckles of sand in the alley rise up, defying gravity, gathering in one place, taking shape seemingly too big to even fit the narrow alleyway behind the dog.

However, the rugby player doesn’t see it. It is a projection of life energy that regular people are unable to detect. Before his eyes, there is nothing but a single small dog.

He charges towards Iggy with his net. The giant behind Iggy moves, picking him up and jumping, scattering sand as it tramples the rugby player. The moment he hits the ground, it rushes out of the narrow alley. Its large body leaps over the line of parking cars with ease.

As it appears in a vast and well-lit place, I can take a good look at it in its entirety. The giant holding Iggy has the appearance of a dog with wheels. Its two front legs are dog-like, but its hind legs are missing, sporting car wheels in their place. On its head it wears feathers resembling Native American ornaments. It is a form blending machinery and organic life, scattering speckles of sand from its entire body.

A Stand. That is what I and my American friend referred as to such entities. Something standing by one’s side like a guardian. This must be the reason behind the odd sand related episodes happening around Iggy.

Stands do not possess a physical body. It is more like Iggy’s guardian. Some would call it a visualization of his psychic powers, others might even claim it as an evil spirit.

Iggy exchanges a glance with me, carried by his own Stand, then turns away as if he’s lost interest in me already. His Stand that leapt over cars so easily rotates its wheels, dashing away on the streets.

The rugby player stands up from where he fell on the ground and calls for assistance with his transceiver.

„He-he’s here! The Boston Terrier! Come right away!” He tries to chase after Iggy instantly, but he fails. The huge mass of sand that until just now has been forming a wall is now covering the ground. Before I could have noticed, it all centered on me. The sand swallows me up to the knee and firmly hardens. Without a doubt this is Iggy’s doing. Pulling as hard as I can, I free my legs but he has already disappeared behind a corner.

„Shit... don’t let him get away!”

The rugby player runs off, and I follow him.

[bawnjourno]

Still, tempers were beginning to fray. Early in the tour, Ron had taken to smashing his piano stool to pieces during the closing 'Big Boy'. Maida laughed, 'Here's Ronnie doing that whole act, tilting his head and being really immobile and then, all of a sudden, right at the end of 'Big Boy', he's standing up, grabbing his piano bench and smashing it all over the place, just going nuts.' It was an ironic gesture at first, but as the tour went on, it became a crucial one as well. He was venting. And it wasn't always the piano stool that came off the worst. 'One night in Chicago, we were playing on a really high stage. It was the end of 'Big Boy' and Ronnie went to smash the bench and one of the legs came off in his hand. The entire rest of the bench went flying off the stage and, with his adrenaline, he jumped off the stage to continue smashing it. He landed and fucked up his leg, and then the police moved in. They thought he was just some fan, so they were grabbing at him and we were yelling 'No, no, he's part of the show!' 'Poor Ron,' Michaels sympathized. 'He damaged his leg so bad that we took all the canned sodas and beers out of a new plastic garbage container and he stuck his entire bruised and bloody leg into the ice filled can. We were very worried about him hurtling himself whilst going nutzoid on piano benches.' Having recovered, Ron quickly returned to his auto destructive ways. Playing the Bottom Line in New York City, twice a night for two nights across 21st and 22 December 1976, Ron was so engrossed in demolishing his stool that he lost his balance and landed on the one table in front of the stage where the Columbia VIPs were seated. Everything on the table - drinks, food, ashtrays, the lot - went flying.

from Sparks No 1 Songs in Heaven: A Biography by Dave Thompson

[noirapocalypto]

5, 20, 43 for Salem?

Thank you so much! 🤗

[CP2077 OC Asks]

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way?

Salem is very spiritual, but he's not very religious. He prefers to keep the concept of God, or any deity for that matter, secular from his own beliefs. It's just not for him. He is heavily into the occult, however, and borrows practices/beliefs from various mystic philosophies that he's drawn to. Salem practices witchcraft, he's believes in fate, past lives and soulmates. He studies astrology, tarot, and believes in spiritual energies in others and the surrounding natural world around him. I can ramble on and on about Salem and his belief system 🤭 All this to say, Salem is my most spiritual out of all my other OC’s.

20. where do they currently live? describe their home. 

I'm so excited for this question, I've been trying to design Salem's apartment for the longest time 😂Sadly, I can't come up with anything visually decent, so descriptions it is! I hope I can do it justice.

Salem lives in an apartment building in Northside. It’s similar to the in-game Maelstrom apartment in terms of aesthetics but it’s a bit bigger and more livable (and slightly better maintained). It’s a 1 bedroom, 1 bath floor plan. Small yet spacious enough for him and his stuff. It has a heavy industrial vibe, with exposed brick walls, metal railings, etc.

It's messy as you'd expect it to be from someone like Salem. Worn clothes thrown on the bedroom floor, his coffee table is covered in empty cans, his rolling tray, a bong, half-read tarot spreads, etc. But it's not over crowded or cluttered to the point where it's an issue.

His decor fits his own style too. If someone were to step into his apartment, there's an immediate "Ah yeah, this is definitely Salem's space" thought. He has art on the walls that he has commissioned himself or has been given to him by fans/friends as well as various posters of various bands and musicians he genuinely is a fan of. There are little oddities and curiosities on his shelves, such as crystals, creepy little statues, things like that.

The lighting is kinda dark and somewhat dim, he tends to keep his windows closed with the curtains drawn shut, especially in his bedroom. But he'll let in a little sunlight from time to time when he needs to.

What always seems to throw guests off is how his apartment smells. It always smells nice, since he usually has incense burning either for meditation, rituals/spells or to just relax. However, there's also a noticeable weed smell lingering, so it's definitely subjective. 🤭

His favorite spot in his home is his work area. He has a corner of his living room reserved for his desk and his recording equipment. His set up might look cluttered, with all his notes scattered about as well as even more empty cans, a full ashtray and various shards here and there, but he knows exactly where everything is.

43. describe their ideal date.

Salem is not one that can easily be 'wined and dined'. He doesn't like big, expensive, excessive dates. It just turns him off and it feels very artificial and false to him. He's far more into 1x1 dates, so group dates probably aren't the best way either.

To Salem, it doesn't really matter what the setting is or what it is they're doing, as long as he gets to be with that person. He wants to get to know them, see what they're like, how they present themselves to him and how they engage in the activity their doing. It could be something as quiet and intimate as going out for a drive together, away from everyone else. Or something loud and rowdy like going to a show together or causing trouble at some bar. 🖤

[fazbear-security]

Soul Shift - Ch. 1

Ao3

A thick packet of paper was tossed onto the desk, narrowly missing the crystal ashtray and the cigar balanced on it. The man seated there looked up over his glasses pointedly, and after a few seconds’ pause, his irritated visitor turned and closed the office door behind himself with far more care. With a hum of acknowledgement, the man at the desk picked up the cigar first, and then the paper packet, and held it out to get a better look.

“We need to do something about that yuck.” The second man dropped down into a spare chair near the desk and sagged down to where he could balance his head on his fingertips. “He’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“I agree.” The man with the cigar puffed as he flipped a few pages of the incident report. “We’re lucky Dr. Wilkenson only wanted to move on from the whole disaster, and chose not to press charges…but we can’t fire him.” Another puff, another cloud of smoke. “His work is impeccable. The building is always immaculate in the morning, and the stage assets haven’t been this clean since 1986. Apart from this one incident, he’s been a model employee.”

“A model employee who’s one bad day away from ruining the very good thing we have going, here.” Chair man argued, sitting up and running one hand through his graying hair to push it out of his eyes. “The longer he hangs around, the greater the risk that he’ll figure out where the budget’s been disappearing to and-”

“And if we fire him for anything other than a justly fireable offense, he’ll sue us with all the power of the most up and coming law firm in the city.” Cigar man shot back sternly. “Or have you forgotten, Terry, that the sister who picks him up every time he covers a day shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays is Coraline Jones of Jones & Berrenheimer, LLC?” Terry leaned his elbows heavily on his knees, and tugged his tie loose with, perhaps, a bit more force than was necessary.

“I didn’t forget, Sal…” He muttered under his breath. “Brat won’t shut up about her once you get him started.”

“Corporate barely had our backs after Houston,” The man at the desk - Sal - put down the incident report and raised his hands with crooked fingers to act as air quotes. “Moved back to Louisiana suddenly.” He lowered his hands and took the cigar out of his mouth to tap some of its loose ashes into the crystal tray. “If we knowingly invite a wrongful termination lawsuit, they won’t just throw us under the bus, they’ll tie us to the train tracks themselves.” Terry narrowed his eyes, but looked away from Sal’s bespectacled glare after only a few seconds.

Sal leaned back in his chair with a creak, and Terry looked down at his shoes, pressing his knuckles against his lips in thought. He hated it, but his partner-in-crime was right. There was no easy way to fire Mike Schmidt, and with the way he’d been making friends on the day shift, it would be no cake walk to convince another employee to lie for them. Damn…he’d thought they could count on the split between the day and the night shifts pretty reliably, too.

“....what if we didn’t fire him?” Terry spoke up after the quiet in the office had stretched for several long, tense minutes. Sal breathed out a ring of cigar smoke and turned his head just enough to look at the other man through his bifocals. “What if…” Terry sat up a little straighter. “He just took a page out of Houston’s book.”

“It won’t work.” Sal blew another rink of smoke toward the ceiling fan lazily spinning above his desk. “Whatever he does on the night shift has kept those mechanical beasts at bay for more than a year. If he hasn’t slipped up by now, then he’s not going to slip up soon.”

“Then we make sure he slips up.” Terry’s fingers started to twitch, and he unlaced them to drum them against his knees. “We’ll rig the fuse box in the basement. Put a bunk fuse in place of a good one.” He thought out loud. “When the power switches over to the generator at midnight, the fuse’ll blow, and the generator will be shut down.” He reasoned. “No power, no doors, no chance. Bye-bye Schmidt.”

“....” Sal slowly sat up at this and looked at his partner with an unreadable expression. “Terry,” He said quietly, as if concerned his voice might carry too far. “You’re talking about murder. That’s a life sentence.”

“We’re already looking at a felony if word of our little racket gets out.” Terry argued back, though he lowered his own voice to match his manager’s. “Besides, corporate’s already in deep, covering up this kind of thing. We’re not at fault if the company’s machines suddenly go rogue and mince the night guard over a programming error, right?”

“He’s a kid.” Sal reached up and took his cigar out of his mouth. “His family comes here almost every day - hell, a quarter of our birthday parties in the summer come from the foster home alone-”

“He’s a twenty-something college drop out with anger issues.” Terry argued, standing up from his chair. “And he used to be one of those fosters, right? He’s damaged goods - he’s already had one outburst at work - what’s to say he hasn’t another around a kid? That he won’t have another one during a busy party day, except this time, somebody gets hurt, and we get swamped in lawsuits?” A small, sharp smile was starting to creep across the man’s face. “We’d be doing a service, if you think of it that way.”

“This is worse than embezzlement.” Sal muttered around his hand as he pushed up his glasses to rub his face. God, he could already feel the migraine coming on.  “You understand that this is worse, don’t you? Murder is always worse!”

“This is protection.” Terry planted his palms on the desk and leaned over Sal. “We have spent more than a decade pocketing spare change from the corporate budget just to build up the nest eggs that they refuse to give us, and if we don’t do something about this very real liability in the building, we’re risking it all.” Terry plucked the cigar from Sal’s limp fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray. “I’m not going to risk my granddaughter’s college funds in the hope that Schmidt will keep his nose out of our business, and I know you wouldn’t risk your grandbaby’s medical coverage...would you?”

The chair scraped loudly over the old wooden floor as Sal suddenly stood up, and Terry jerked back in surprise. He’d been hoping to get a rise out of his long time partner, but he hadn’t been expecting such a cold, hardened glare. The man raised his hands off the desk, half-placatingly, as Sal picked up the cigar and held it between them.

“Never ruin my Belicoso again.” He threatened lowly before dropping it back into the crystal tray. “...you said you had a broken fuse for the box?”

“Yeah. Kitchen staff reported it last week. Jeremy (the old one) swapped it out on Friday but left the burnt one sitting on top of the box.” Terry replied, still tense and poised to dodge an outburst. “There’s a back-up in the box, still, but if we swap them around, then the generator will stay off when the power cut happens, and we won’t risk a fire.”

“Then the next time someone needs more supplies, volunteer to bring them up from the basement, and switch out the fuses.” Sal turned away from the desk, massaging his temples with one hand. God forgive them for what they were about to do, if he had any mercy left. “Lock the door behind you once you’re done. You and I will arrive bright and early, before Anders gets in, and clear out whatever suit they use.

“We’ll double down on the advertisement of the new character corporate sent over, and say that Schmidt just didn’t show for his shift. No video means no evidence, and if the police come sniffing around, then we dress up the incident report a bit more.” Sal shrugged. “Throw in a few added swear words and threats of violence, I don’t know.”

“A dead man can’t file a defamation lawsuit.” Terry agreed with a smile that bore a striking resemblance to a hungry shark. Sal very pointedly did not look at it. “I’ll make sure Schmidt’s day shifts are covered ‘as a favor’. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the break.”

“I’m sure…” Sal took a deep breath, and then, with his back still to his partner, waved a hand to dismiss him. “Get back out on the floor before the staff start to whisper.” He ordered. Terry didn’t respond, but Sal heard the door open and close, and slowly turned around to stand over his desk. He picked up a small, ornate frame that held a picture of a little toddler with hollow cheeks and a glowing smile. He rubbed his thumb over the edge of the frame, and the placard that read ‘Grandpa’s Strongest Angel’, and slowly put it back on the desk.

He sat down, and picked up the incident report before burying it at the bottom of his lowest desk drawer. Then, he turned on the monitor of the computer sitting to one side of the desk, and navigated through the files to the payroll folder.

Schmidt wouldn’t be needing a final paycheck after tonight.

[kaleschmidt]

DSAF Assorted HCs (Part 2)

yeah. uh. get fucking jumpscared. previous part here

once again expect some TKPverse stuff here ok? nice

Jack

This is important okay you need to fucking listen to me. that is a short, fat, hairy man. I don't care that he's corpsy he is hairy as hell.

he has. so many issues. there's probably more but my current hcs for him are npd, bipolar, n adhdtism

his nervous stim is backflipping (thx quentin)

He chose his own middle name and it starts with an F. that's all i'm saying

It has a biting/chewing stim and will chew on anything it can get its hands on. Dave can get bited as a treat. otherwise shirt

Jack can sew!! They did it often when they were taking care of Dee and picked it up from their mom.

^ Jack made Dee's scarf btw. also after dee's death, jack stopped sewing

Jack DID pick sewing back up again (kinda) when he realized he kinda has to sew their body parts back up

He fucking HATES being called "Jackie". no exceptions

From DSAF 1-2, he wears a wig. Pre-DSAF 3, he starts growing it out, though. cuts/shaves it into a fucked up mullet for DSAF 3 though.

..... the mullet is made out of mold. Sorry. He's insane and so am I

As it worked on the machine for the Flipside, whenever it got KFC, it always broke any wishbones in the bucket, hoping it would help contribute to the machine working- that all his efforts would be worth something. TKPverse, he still does this

Dave

This is obviously i LITERALLY MADE A WHOLE FUCKING POST ABOUT IT but Dave has bpd. He also has adhdtism n probs a few other things

Dave really doesn't like when people are behind her and rather people walk in front of her instead. ESPECIALLY when walking through doorways

actually likes licorice. in my heart.

Dave has faint tastebuds after the whole "eating an ashtray" thing. Kebabs are his comfort food though

Capable of falling asleep with his eyes open. This has made Jack shit a few times

Dave steals Jack's clothes sometimes. they're big on him

Peter

major sin i'm sorry. peter is a big disney fan. i don't have a favorite movie for him yet

more of a silly hc n not anything solid but when he dressed up as The Rat, I like to imagine Peter did a very horrible mickey impression. we love you peter

When Naomi's (his daughter) sixth birthday passed, Peter was so relieved that she survived that he cried to Caroline about it, after Naomi was tucked into bed

This is like. a hc i debatably switch between having and not, but Peter's middle name is Guy. for normal reason.s

Caroline

She and Jack actually got along well! They like to tease each other a lot

VERY skilled in wrestling

Caroline had several brothers she used to live with (she was the oldest sibling), so she can relate to Peter abt older sibling troubles

SHIT at fucking cooking. peter was the one who cooked. she did her best though

Japanese-American i can't accept her being fully white i'm sorry.

Matt

Further elaborating on the timeline stuff he has going on: Matt more or less has a hivemind throughout timelines that shares memories throughout. hope that helps

^ JACK DOES NOT FUCKING KNOW THIS AND MATT IS NOT LETTING HIM KNOW THAT.

I can't believe i never said this but Matt is mixed. filipino + white specifically. GO WASIAN BOY GO. he's not exactly as connected w his filipino heritage though

he actually likes madonna as an artist but he'd rather die than admit that. you're not getting that out of him.

Davesport

On the few occassions the two take a shower, Jack + Dave shower together. helps a lot. they make a fucking mess sometimes though

Sometimes they sleep together naked. fuck you. ok? sniff. let me have this

i'd put this in their respective sections, but jack + dave have specific sleeping styles. Jack likes to sleep all sprawled out, and Dave does that sometimes too! But mostly she's all cozied up to Jack. likes to feel smaller sometimes

Dave likes to knock his head against Jack sometimes ok? ok.

Relationships

now that i have gotten him i can finally confirm. oscar + matt bffs 4ever

Matt likes Jack, in the sense that he's interesting to it, with most timelines revolving around him. Would never want to get involved with his business though. It's too hot for that shit

Peter + Dave frenemies ftw... they will begrudgingly get along. they're more similar than they think

so like i know that i said jack + harry had a fling in the last post but i grew and changed as a person. that's a lesbian phone. I do think that Jack trusted Harry the most out of the other phoneys, though

I think Jack saw a bit of itself in Roger. never admitting though.

off-topic but has jack fucking hit on every phone employee of his. i haven't seen jake's shit but has he. Jack.

Dave actually has a ... somewhat nice acquaintanceship w Steven! i kinda need them to bond a little more ok?