#lotta brain weirdos in this show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shawtuzi · 1 year ago

Text

i’m having thee worst plug!eren brainrot rn so here’s some random hc’s for himmm

mdni///cw include: black coded reader, SMUT, a whole lotta tooth rotting fluff, drug usage, major gun kink, talks of mommy and daddy issues, some grisha slander heh, not proofread so there may be some spelling mistakes :((

♡ so it’s goes without saying he is one of those ppl that has no idea what to do when someone’s crying in front of him. he grew up in a household where if he was ever caught crying he’d be told to suck it up and act like a man :(( so it’s very hard for him to find the right words to say or do the right actions when comforting someone. on the bright side he has gotten better at it since he’s met you.

♡ the first time you cried in front of him was when you made the horrible decision to show him the movie ‘my sisters keeper’ and you were an absolute mess by the time the credits rolled. “are you….are you crying?” he asked absolutely flabbergasted that you were crying, sure the movie was sad but was it really that sad?? (yes it is). “of c-course im sad *hiccup* did you not watch any of the damn movie?” you sniffled crossing your arms over you chest. instead of talking about it any further eren just pulled you onto his lap and tucked your face in his neck muttering out a ‘whatever you say weirdo.’ after witnessing many moments like that he’s wayyy better at handling your lil emotional self.

♡ he’s surprisingly a natural with kids!!! one of his homeboys has a three year old daughter who is absolutely too precious for her own good and every time eren sees her he can’t help but turn into a pile of mush. he doesn’t do the whole baby talk thing though he’ll talk to that little girl like she’s one of the homies much to your dismay. one time he bought her a barbie car as a present and the gesture was adorable a first until he opened his damn mouth, “and if any of those kids at the park mess with you just run them over with this and they’ll leave you alone okay? listen to your uncle eren he knows his shit.” that earned him a smack upside the head from you and an exhausted head shake from his homeboy. he rlly is too much.

♡ seeing you with his homies daughter also ignited something in him he’s never ever felt before. eren could never see himself as a dad, maybe the cool uncle but nothing more than that. but goddamn seeing you handle kids makes him wanna buy a big ass house and give you as many kids as you’ll let him—hence his raging breeding kink that appears from time to time. you always wondered why he got so riled up every time he saw you with his friends daughter and then it all started to make sense one night when he was fucking you like a madman and kept moaning n panting about how pretty you’d look carrying his kids. you both came to an agreement that kids were off the table for a while but it didn’t make it any less fun when he stuffed you full of his cum until he was basically shooting blanks.

♡ “g-goddamn fuck y/n,” eren groaned into your ear, emptying his fourth load into your aching pussy. you were absolutely spent—nothing but a babbling, brain dead mess. you thought eren would’ve been too tired as well, but when he pulled his face outta your neck he still had that mischievous glint in eyes that had you folded up in the first place. “m’still hard,” he whispered making you whimper. “no…n-no more ren too sensitive,” you whined making eren hum. he glanced at your thighs that were still shaking from the aftershocks of you previous orgasm, then looked back into your eyes. you knew what he was hinting at and meekly nodded your head making him smile. he slowly pulled out of your pussy, gently shushing you when he heard you whine before sitting back on his knees. he pushed your thighs together and quickly slipped his dick between the pillowy skin, groaning at how soft you felt. “yeah…that’s it you feel so good mama,” he grunted pulling his kiss swollen bottom lip between his teeth. every once in a while he dick would glide across your overly sensitive clit making you mewl. it didn’t take long for eren to reach his peak once again and without warning he parted your thighs and shoved his dick back into your pussy knocking all the air out of your lungs. “so good….always so good for me. my perfect girl i love you do much,” eren muttered breathlessly into your ear.

♡ his love language is words of affirmation hands down!!!! he practically purrs like a kitten when you tell him how much you love him and how much he means to you :((

♡ i don’t think it’s any surprise he’s got some pretty bad mommy AND daddy issues. losing carla at a young age had a monumental impact on him as a kid and grisha didn’t even deserve the title of being a father. his whole life he’s never been able to be vulnerable in front of anyone until he met you ofc. you were his light, his safe haven and he didn’t know what he did to deserve someone as caring and nurturing as you but he never dared question it. you’d only seen him cry one time in front of you and it was when you went with him to visit carla’s grave. he looked like he was holding so much in and it absolutely broke your heart. “it’s okay to be upset eren you don’t ever have to put on that tough façade for me,” you whispered pressing a kiss to his trembling lips that was full of so much love and care he could’ve sobbed. he still has his moments where he closes his emotions off from you but day by day you’re slowly breaking down those walls he built up all those years.

♡ he is a true crime girly!!! he’s one of those ppl that can go to sleep watching the i.d. channel and still sleep peacefully.

♡ you’re a tad bit too clumsy for your own good so eren keeps a thing of bandaids and alcohol in his car and then a small lil box of sanrio themed bandaids in your purse. you thought he was absolutely ridiculous for keeping them on standby until you used damn near all the sanrio themed bandaids.

♡ “not so ridiculous for keeping these around now am i huh?” he chuckled putting the bandaid on your scraped knee. you didn’t say anything instead letting out an annoyed huff, but the annoyance quickly went away when he gave your knee three kisses. “my clumsy girl,” he snickered giving your pouting lips a kiss. “s’not my fault these heels are just too tall,” you mumbled kicking them off in annoyance. eren smirked and reached behind his seat pulling out a pair of fluffy slides, “i knew you’d get annoyed with them eventually—put these on instead,” he said setting the slides on your lap. you tried to your bratty act up but you just couldn’t stop the smile that crept on your glossed up lips, “you’re the best renny,” you giggled giving his cheek a kiss. “i know i am.” cocky ass mf.

♡whenever y’all are at your place it’s such a sight seeing this big, strong, mean man all comfortable in your pink fluffy blankets n cuddling with your squishmallows even though he supposedly has beef w them—but let me not even get into that seriously. sometimes after he’s done beating your pussy up he’ll grab two of your plushies and make them hump each other pretending it’s the two of you.

♡ “yes yes yes eren!” eren moaned on a high pitched voice making your cheeks burn in embarrassment. you tried snatching the plushies from his grip but it was no use he was too damn strong. “oh my godddd eren enough!” you whined smacking his chest, leaving a red handprint in the making. eren’s jaw dropped and he turned to you his brows furrowed, “now that wasn’t very nice was it?” he said turning his head to plushie. “not very nice at all,” he said dropping his voice an octave making you giggle. you moved yourself onto his stomach and grabbed the plushies, tossing them aside. “m’sorry baby,” you pouted giving the red mark a sweet kiss, “let me make it up to you.” and that’s how you ended up face down ass up while eren pounded you from behind, the force making you grab onto your plushies for dear life.

♡ he’s very very into gunplay and it’s all your fault. that day you asked him so nicely to fuck your mouth with his glock was the day you created a monster.

♡ one night you both were at a block party and ‘get low’ by lil jon started playing and you couldn’t help but make your way over to where everyone was dancing and join in. eren admired you from the side taking a hit of his blunt every once in a while. you looked so damn good it was criminal. the way your denim mini skirt began to ride up your thick thighs from dancing had eren’s dick jumping in his pants. while you were dancing you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around you and knew exactly who it was. “you look so fine dancing out here you’re killing me baby,” he chuckled pushing your backside into his front and that’s when you felt it. you froze in your spot making eren smirk, “you okay mama?” he asked pressing a wet kiss to your neck. not even five minutes later you dragged eren to his car and bounced on his dick while while you sucked on his glock. even though the windows were blacked out anyone with eyes could tell what was happening with the way the car bounced and jostled. “fuck just like that baby make a mess on this dick,” eren groaned, pushing the glock deeper into your mouth.

♡ it didn’t stop there either sometimes eren liked to have you point the gun at his head while he fucked you. “look at my sweet girl holding my—goddamn m-my fucking gun. so damn naughty hm?” he grinned loving the way you were struggling to hold it against his head.

♡ his only social media is instagram and it’s basically a fanpage dedicated to you. his profile pic? a picture of him laying on your ass with the biggest smile on his face. his pinned photos? a picture of you and him with matching grills, one of you both wearing ski masks while his gun is pointed at the camera beam on and everything, and the other one is a pic of you two in a photo booth—you were smiling oh so prettily while one of your boobs was in his mouth. he only follows a few of his friends and the only girl he follows is you ofc not bc you made him only follow you he just chose too <333

♡ now after eren gets locked up life is a little bit different than it used to be. since being a dealer was out of the question he started working at an auto body shop w connie and although he wasn’t making as much money as he was before he still provided for you in every way. you didn’t mind the lack of expensive gifts in the slightest you were just happy your renny was back in your arms. he worked a lot more than he used to which left you a lot more needy for his touch and attention but he always made sure to take care you even after an excruciatingly long day at work.

♡ “missed you so much ren today went by so slow,” you whined against his lips as he fucked into you. he was pretty tired so he went a little slower than he usual fast pace but you didn’t mind in the slightest. “missed you too mama. you’re so sweet f’having dinner ready for me n’ helping me out in the shower,” he groaned pushing his thumb into your mouth which you greedily sucked. he always took a shower as soon as he got off, not wanting to get any oil or other grime from the shop on your pretty clothes. you couldn’t stand to not be in his arms a minute longer so you followed him into the shower and just wrapped your arms around his toned stomach while he showered not saying a word. little did you know in just a few days he’d be taking you on a vacation to barbados (somewhere you’ve been dying to visit) and while you both were there he planned on making you his forever by putting a fat rock on your finger.

3K notes · View notes

majimasleftasscheek · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, im very sorry if this has already been answered or established somewhere else but im curious, with your Kazumaji stuff, around what time did they start dating (i.e. after the events of Yakuza 0 and all that) and how?

tbh, I dunno!

I don't really have an established date for that cuz sometimes I'm like man they'd be really cute during y0 and then other times I set it between post y0 and the beginning of y1. The latest they would start me thinks is some months after the events of y1 but in general it sorta depends on how I'm feeling and what silly scenarios play in my head

ideas under the cut tho 👀

if we're talking y0: I like to think Kiryu has to go to Sotenbori for some reason, be it business or he's there with Nishiki for some partying. he sees Majima at the Grand being depressed and is like "damn girl those bags under your eyes makes my dick go *boing sound effect*" and asks him out 🥺 Kiryu gets rejected immediately cuz Majima's in this cycle of 'I deserve nothing but pain and suffering' but Kiryu can't read the room so he is persistently showing up at the Grand despite Majima very obviously wanting to kick his ass. eventually he relents and goes on cute™ dates with Kiryu and realizes oof maybe human intimacy be kinda gucci

if between y0 and y1: Majima's fresh in his mad dog era starting shit with people just to be annoying and Kiryu's one of his targets mainly due to the events of y0. he's kinda like "lol this goober really did some important plot stuff, huh?" and his curiosity gets the better of him because Kiryu is an enigma who eats bugs and Majima cannot suppress his need to get some sense of understanding on this weirdo. in this timeline, it's more one-sided affection from Majima that comes in the form of stabbing while Kiryu is desperately trying to fight the gay allegations and failing. eventually he caves but it's a sorta unofficial, on and off thing that Kiryu doesn't really know how to evaluate for himself. Majima doesn't really care what they are since he's high on life atm and has a cute dude with big boobs on his arm

if during y1: literally just everything Majima Everywhere. Goromi. GOROMI 😩💦 Kiryu is all: I LIKE PUSSY but everyone's like okay big man then why's Majima pole dancing for you huh. the two braincells he has start to click and he realizes maybe Majima wants to hold hands or something unthinkable like that. ngl I like to think Kiryu's thing for Yumi is like a demisexual bi thing where he's like, I do love her but she don't zap my brain quite like the bowlcut freak who knows how to punch me real good and it becomes sorta his personal introspective journey during this time. Majima is also floating in the space of am I doing this for his benefit cuz "training" or am I falling for this dork. he's pretty sad about it cuz of the Saejima reminder vibes but eventually Kiryu falls into his own person that Majima really meshes with and the two of them struggle to actually voice how they feel all the while their pants are down in some dirty alley

if after y1: (going to insert shit from a fic I'm working on) Kiryu's absolutely devastated with what happened in the Millennium Tower + now having to take care of Haruka that he's shut himself off from everyone and everything other than doing the bare minimum to live. in comes Majima being a menace like yo you can't like, let a child parent herself you gotta get outta this slump and Kiryu's all fuck you stop breaking into my house. so it's a long pain in the ass process to help Kiryu deal with his grief while Majima keeps unintentionally making googoo eyes at him and both of them are like boy I sure hope this doesn't awaken anything within me. there's also a lotta dadjima stuff going on and Kiryu's like wowie zowie so you do have a heart and Majima's like no way loser while being just 😳👉👈

#apologies for the way I write sometimes I like to put out total garble because it makes my heart go thumpa thump #god I love them I LOVE THEM #THEY UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER ON A LEVEL BEYOND THAT OF FLESH AND BLOOD AND IT HURTS KNOWING THEY DO #THAT THEY BOTH SUFFER AND THEY FEEL THAT IT'S BEST TO BE ALONE RATHER THAN BRING SOMEONE ELSE ON THE RIDE #BUT THAT RIDE BRINGS THEM BOTH TO THE SAME DESTINATION THAT THEY ARE BOTH BROKEN MEN HAUNTED BY THINGS THEY DID—THINGS THEY COULD HAVE DONE #BUT MAYBE THERE'S HOPE IN HAVING SOMEONE TO LIVE FOR—SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS THE STRUGGLE OF REDEMPTION DESPITE ONE'S NATURE #TO LIFT EACH OTHER FROM THE DEPTHS OF SELF LOATHING BECAUSE THEY CAN DO BETTER #then I'm tranquilized and shoved back into my cage for relocation #kazumaji #kiryu kazuma #majima goro #my hcs

240 notes · View notes

crashdevlin · 4 years ago

Text

Intense

One Night at a Time Masterlist

Author’s Note: Part seven of One Night at a Time series.

Summary: Y/n is trying to move on after Dean gets sent to Purgatory. She's hunting nonstop to outrun the questions in her head...what does she do when Dean shows up after more than a year?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Benny x Reader (kinda)

Word count: 3575

Story Warnings: mentions of harm to reader, mentions of scars, poor self-esteem, angst, Dean being Dean (a bit of a jerk), 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, creampie

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

I should have been there, closer, beside him when he stabbed Dick Roman and sent him back to Purgatory. I should have stopped Crowley from getting his hands on Kevin. I should have done something more than just stand there while everything fell apart.

And I tried, you know? I tried to find another way into Purgatory. I tried for months to get Dean back. But it was useless. I was useless. Useless to Dean and Kevin and Sam, but not useless on a hunt. I’ve always been at my best on a job.

So I go back to hunting. Vamps and ghosts and this shifter in Utah...a few demons here and there. I jump from job to job, catching a few that aren’t even monsters because as soon as I slow down, my brain goes to Dean. Missing him, yes. Missing him with everything in me, but also...he might have liked me, but...he never said he dreamed of me until after Castiel fixed my scars. He never got nervous about sleeping with me when I had the scars. He was a bit of an asshole to me, actually.

So I hunt. To avoid questions that plague me that don’t even matter anymore, I hunt.

I haven’t heard from Sam in over a year. He’s not on the radar. He’s not hunting. I guess that’s better, leaves more jobs for me.

I get wind of a vampire sighting in Clayton, Louisiana. No body drop, just someone saying they saw a fanger, but I check it out anyway. I have to do something to keep my mind busy.

I go the normal route, bars and nightclubs are generally the way you find a fang, but there’s not a lot in that area in Clayton. One bar full of blue collar boys and no nightclubs. Still no bodies. I head to a local park overlooking a lake and sit on a small wooden bench. There’s something interesting about cypress trees sticking out of the water, Spanish moss hanging from the branches. It’s not pretty, not in any conventional way, but it is at the same time.

“You not from aroun’ here, are you?” a man says, moving to sit next to me on the bench.

I turn to look at him. A blue-eyed man with a light beard and a hat. He’s not quite the swamp-dwelling men I found at the bar. “What makes you say that?”

“Just got a feelin’ about you. Says you’s a traveler. You got a nomad look,” he says, smiling brightly.

I smile and nod. “Yeah. You could say that. I’ve been pretty much everywhere.”

“I used to do a lotta sailin’, so I been around a few times. Sometimes, I think I can sense people with an envie to roam. Mus’ be what drew me ta you.” He smiles at me again and I chuckle.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the fact that I was a weirdo staring at the water? Didn’t come over here to check me into a mental hospital or something?” I ask, smirking.

“Nah. Pretty lady with her head lost in the cypress? Nothin’ wrong wit’ dat.”

I feel my cheeks heat up and look away toward the trees again. “Thank you.”

“No problem, cher. I’m Benny.”

“Y/n,” I respond, offering my hand. He takes it and kisses the knuckles. His lips are a bit cold, but it’s pretty cool for August.

“Well, iss real nice meetin’ you, Y/n. You gonna be around town a few days?” he asks. Is he flirting with me?

“Maybe. The ‘envie to roam’ might kick up real soon.” Might not be anything here and I have to find a job soon. I have to find a distraction.

“Well, if you don’t roam before tonight, I could buy you a drink?”

I lick my bottom lip between my teeth and nod. What better way to look inconspicuous on a vamp hunt than to have drinks with a handsome man? “That’d be nice, Benny. I’ll meet you at the bar at 7?”

“I’d like that.”

He’d like that. Why would he? Why did he even want to talk to me?

I go anyway. He buys us beers. He's charming and funny, down to earth but not simple. I don't know if it's the quaint Louisiana backwoods of him or what, but he seems like a man out of time. Which should have been the first clue, but my Spidey-sense doesn't go off until he walks me to my car and leans in to kiss me.

It's nice and he's an amazing kisser, but the fact that he's kissing me?

My mind goes to Marco.

I whisper 'Cristo' when he pulls away, but he doesn't flinch, just looks at me a bit odd. "I didn't think I was that good a kisser you gotta call for the Lord, cher."

I nod and smile tightly. "Right. Uh...I had a nice night, Benny. You've got my number. Text me sometime," I ramble out a bit before I slide into my driver's seat and peel out of the parking lot. He must be the fang I'm looking for. Only explanation. It's the only reason he'd flirt with me, kiss me, why his lips were cold. Trying to get me alone so he can drink me or turn me.

I'll set a trap, get some dead man's blood, confirm what he is...Benny's big so maybe I should have some backup but at the end of the day, he's just one vamp and I've taken down bigger.

I'm trying to figure out a way to get some dead man's blood in this nowhere town when there's a knock on my motel door. I grab my gun and approach, looking through the peephole. I almost drop my gun.

Dean Winchester, or something that looks like him, is standing at my door.

“Open the door, Y/n!” It knows my name. “And put the piece away. You can test me as soon as you open up.”

It can’t be him. It can’t but...if anyone could claw his way back…

I open the door and stare blankly at him for a minute. “You...can’t...be.”

He smiles and steps inside. “You got some borax, holy water, silver knife?” I just stare for another few moments. “Okay, well, I got the knife,” he says, pulling out a knife I recognize and slicing it across his arm.

“How are you here?” I whisper.

“Long story,” he says, wrapping a handkerchief around his arm. “Borax?”

I swallow and rush to my duffel bag. After I splash him with cleaner and holy water, I hand him a towel. “It’s really you?”

“Yeah. It’s really me.” He sets the towel aside and licks his lips, grimacing at the taste of the borax. “I was sad when Sammy told me he hadn’t seen you all year.”

I shrug and look away. “I was keepin’ busy...he wasn’t.”

“How busy?” he asks.

“Busy enough.” Had a lot on my mind.

“Sam retired. You hear about that?”

“I assumed. He dropped off the face of the earth and left all the good cases for me.” I sit on the edge of the bed and look at my feet.

“He was in Texas.” He moves to stand over me, looking down. “You been hunting by yourself again?”

“Nothing new, Dean.” I shake my head. “The only time I wasn’t hunting solo was the few months I was with you and Sam. I’m good without backup.”

“But Sam shouldn’t have abandoned you to go play house with some chick in-”

“Does it really matter?” I look up and sigh. “He deserved a break.”

“No, he didn’t! I was in Purgatory and he just quit. At least you kept fighting.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” I clear my throat and bite my bottom lip. "So you got out."

"Yep. I did."

"How'd you find me?" I ask.

"Friend found you for me...not that he was really looking." He clicks his tongue against his teeth and clears his throat. "So Sam and I just got done doin’ a wolf case in Michigan...got a few days probably...unless you got something-”

“I’m on a fang. If you wanted to-”

“How many victims?” he asks, a little too quickly.

“Well, none but someone I trust saw the thing. Just because they haven’t killed anyone yet doesn’t mean-”

“Y/n.” He grabs my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. He’s still so beautiful but there’s something primal in his eyes. “No body means no monster. You don’t need to be here.”

“I’m s-sure there’s a...there was this guy, B-Benny, he-”

“No, babe.”

“Guys don’t give me attention unless they have a motive, Dean.” I pull away from him and his eyes narrow at me and a chill goes down my spine. Not a good one, though. I’m fucking scared...of Dean. That primal look in his eyes is terrifying and I’ve faced down a lot scarier shit than him.

“Motive? What’s that supposed to-” His jaw ticks as he steps close and crowds me a bit. “You’re back on your bullshit about people not liking you, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get attention, Dean. Benny is just Marco part two.”

“Marco was sent after you, Y/n. Benny just found you.”

“Or I found him! Maybe he’s the one I was here looking for and-”

Dean reaches out and grabs my hair, making me gasp. “Benny is not your concern. No one’s died. You’re after nothing,” he practically growls at me.

“Okay!” I squeak and it’s pathetic...but he’s scaring the fuck outta me. What the hell? What happened to him while he was gone? “There’s nothing here.”

He lets go of my hair and sighs. “Why don’t you pack up and we’ll go meet up with Sam?”

“Dean...I don’t-”

“Y/n.” There’s a warning in his tone and I look away from him.

“Fine. Can we stay here tonight? I’m kinda exhausted.” I don’t wanna go anywhere with him acting like this. Maybe he’ll be less scary in the morning. Unlikely.

He sighs again, obviously annoyed with me, but he nods and pulls his jacket off. He tosses it at the chair in the corner and flops down onto the bed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Sam. Let him know.”

I nod and move to the other side of the bed, lying down and turning onto my side away from him.

All the questions I was running from, working to hide from, they all come flooding back as Dean settles into the bed with me. The questions bring friends. Why is he here? Why would he come here? Who found me for him? Why did he want me found? And why’s he being an asshole again?

Not just an asshole, but a scary asshole. And I don’t think I want to hunt with him like this. I’m uncomfortable. I’m anxious. I’m confused. I’m...sneaking out of bed while he sleeps and getting out of Louisiana. I’ll call Sam when I get some miles between me and Dean. I just can’t do this right now.

I know he hates it when I leave without saying ‘goodbye’ so I leave a note.

Then I leave. I make it to a convenience store in Meridian, Mississippi before I have to stop. I get bad mileage in this old car. I set the pump and head inside, grabbing a case of beer and a hand basket full of snacks. I drop them in the backseat and go around to the restrooms, hoping for something clean-ish. I push open the door, but I haven’t stepped into the room when a hand covers my mouth and I get forced into the room.

“Don’t fuckin’ scream.” It’s Dean. Fuck. At least the bathroom’s clean, I’m not grossed out when he presses me into the wall with his body. “The fuck do you think you’re doin’?”

He pulls his hand away from my mouth and I take a deep breath. “You’re scaring me, Dean,” I whisper.

“Oh, I’m scaring you?” he snaps, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around to face him. His eyes are wild and full of rage. “You know I hate it when you disappear on me. You didn’t even stick around an hour before you left this time! Ya know, you’re always worried about how people don’t like you, but you’re the one that’s not givin’ anyone a chance to get close.”

“Dean, you’re being a dick. Why would I stick around when you’re scaring me?” My voice is squeaky, my body almost shaking. I can face monsters any day of the week, but I’m shaking over this man.

His face softens, his eyes losing a bit of their edge, and I think he’s gonna step back from me for a moment, but he doesn’t. He steps closer, leans his head down, hovers his lips over mine. Suddenly, I’m feeling a tingling lust between my thighs on top of the fearful shaking in my limbs. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick, baby,” he whispers, his breath warming my lips. “Just spent a year in Purgatory. Came back a little...intense.”

“That’s an understatement.” My head’s getting a little dizzy as my heart thuds in my chest.

“Spent all that time missin’ you, wanting you, dreaming of burying my cock in your tight little cunt.” I gasp as he grabs my waist with one hand and braces himself against the wall next to my head with the other. “Intense isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Y/n.”

"Dean," I whimper. I want him. I always want him, but hearing those words...that he was thinking of me… "Why would you miss me?"

He rolls his eyes, and it's this aggressive thing that chills me. "You gotta stop this shit. I spent all those months buildin' you up, showin' you how much I appreciate you and all that work I put in...it's just gone?"

"Why?" I whisper before I can stop myself. His eyebrows come together and I close my eyes. "I'm not...worth...any-"

'Shut it!" he growls and I jolt against him, eyes opening and finding his. "You are worth everything I could ever fuckin' give you. I put the effort in because you deserve it, because I need you, Y/n. The last year of my life has been death and destruction, and fear and adrenaline, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of makin' it back here to you and my brother. You're like family.”

‘Family’. I’m like...needs me? He-

I lean forward and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. My brain’s not working right, I’m overwhelmed and confused, but my body knows what I want. He groans and presses me harder into the wall, pushing my shirt up and grabbing my breasts over the bra. He drops his hands to the front of my jeans, popping open the button and sliding his hand into my underwear to cup my mound.

I suck his tongue into my mouth as he starts fingering me. He’s going a little rougher than he used to. That scary primal energy is translating into something...so sexy. “Oh, god,” I whisper as he works two fingers against my inner walls. “Shit! Dean, fuck!”

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises.” His voice rumbles in my ear, makes me clench around his fingers. “You gonna cum on my fingers, baby?”

I whine and grind against his fingers. I’m so close. God, he’s so good at making me feel good. “I’m gonna--Dean, I’m gonna--Don’t stop!”

“I’m gonna make you cum ‘til you can’t fuckin’ stand it, Y/n,” he promises, pressing the heel of his palm into my clit. I squeal as my toes curl in my shoes and my orgasm crashes over me. I don’t even have a chance to get my wits about me before he’s spun me around and pushed me over the sink. He yanks my pants down to my boots, but he tears my panties off. I hold back the shriek that wants to bubble up as the cotton rips at the sides. He starts sucking at the skin of my neck, digging his teeth into my shoulder as he fumbles with his belt and jeans. He knocks my knees apart and leans over me, sliding his cock along my slit a few times before he slides in all at once.

“Dean!”

He’s rough, fucks me hard, digs his fingertips into my waist, my boobs, my thighs. He bites into my shoulder through my shirt, punches air out of my lungs with each thrust. He moves a hand between my thighs to pluck at my clit and I scream as I cum again, but he’s not done. He’s making good on his promise to make me cum ‘til I can’t stand it, definitely ‘til I can’t stand, because my legs are shaking and weak, the sink is the only thing holding me up as he keeps going. How is he still going?

“Dean, please! I need--I need you--”

“What’d’you need?”

“Need to feel you fill me up,” I whimper. Oh, that’s stupid. I’m not on the pill. But why is it so hot?

He hisses and kisses my jaw and pinches my clit. “One more, Y/n. Gimme one more.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” he demands. He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles on it, rolls my clit between his thumb and first finger. “Cum for me, one more time, cowgirl.” He moves faster, fucks me hard and plays with my clit more and I cum screaming into the mirror over the sink. “Good girl.” He moves his hand away from my clit and braces it against our reflection. He hammers into me, lasts another few thrusts before his breath catches as he cums, his cock twitching as he gasps in pulls of air. “Fuck. That was...so worth it.”

I don’t disagree. Fuck.

He pulls out, holds me up as he fixes his clothes, then moves to fix mine. He caresses my cheek and leans in to kiss me passionately. I’m a bit breathless when he pulls away. Intense. He’s definitely...intense.

“You changed,” I whisper. “Purgatory changed you.”

“Of course it did,” he responds, licking his lips. “But what are you, specifically, referring to?”

I look away. His eyes are too green, too hypnotic. “You were gentle before you left...almost awkward with me after Castiel made me kinda...pretty again?” I don’t know why that turned into a question.

“You were always pretty.” He bites his bottom lip and sighs. “Last time we were here, when you gave me your motel key...I was gentle then too, right? And that was way before Cas healed you. You’re right that I wasn’t awkward then, but I wasn’t tryin’ to build a relationship back then.”

My eyes go wide. “Relationship?” I squeak.

“Well, duh.” He seems amused by my shock. “What’d you think this was, Y/n? An extended one night stand?”

I shake my head. “I...I, um...relationship? What kind of-”

He shrugs and leans against the wall he originally pushed me into. “Why we gotta label it? It’s...I mean, I like you. You like me. We like bein’ around each other. We like fuckin’ each other.”

“Oh, for a second I thought you might be saying something real,” I snap. Thought he might want something like he had with...never mind. “You’re right. Why label what I mean to you?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “You comin’ with me or not?” he asks.

I swallow and bite the edge of my tongue. “Yeah. I guess. Since you chased me off from Clayton.”

He licks his lips. “Full disclosure, babe...there was a vamp in Clayton. Benny. Benny was a vamp, but he really approached you just because he thought you were hot and he’s not bad. Dude’s practically vegan.”

My eyes go wide. “I was right? And you know him?”

“It’s a long story,” he says again. “I met him in Purgatory. He helped me stay alive, helped me get free. Like I said, he’s a good guy and he hasn’t been a danger since before he got sent to Purgatory, okay?”

I blink at him a few times. “You…”

“Look, he’s the whole reason I knew where to find you, so you should be thankin’ him for callin’ me.”

“Wh--how’d he even know who I was?” I ask.

“Recognized you from my description.”

“You talked about me? To a...some fang?”

He steps close to me again. “I missed you. So I talked about you. So he recognized you and he called me.” He bites his bottom lip and reaches out to touch my cheek again. “Label or not...you’re important to me. Benny knows that.”

I lick my lips. “Okay...I guess?”

“I’ll tell Sam we’re comin’.” He starts to walk away but he stops at the bathroom door. “Don’t tell Sam about Benny. Please. Not yet. He’s not...we’re still gettin’ our footing. Please.”

I nod and push off from the sink. “Guess he doesn’t need to know yet.”

“Awesome. Let’s get out of here.” He reaches out and I take his hand and he pulls me out of the bathroom.

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

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #Dean x reader #benny lafitte

142 notes · View notes

whole-lotta-hoes · 4 years ago

Text

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

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

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.

#led zeppelin #robert plant #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham #cursed post #cursed content #crack fanfic #fanfic #led zeppelin fanfic

7 notes · View notes

yayneloveart · 3 years ago

Text

Turnabout Big Top... the worst case in Ace Attorney history, finally animated...

HES WEARING THE SWEATER. HES WEARING THE HEART SWEATER. JESUS, IF I WASNT SO POOR I WOULD KNIT THAT RIGHT NOW. +100 BILLION POINTS FOR CHANGING UP HIS WARDROBE EVERY SO OFTEN.

Wow, they really copied part of the flying scene in the game into the anime. I love how they pick and choose different things to directly copy over to keep things nostalgic while also changing things to clear up plot issues.

Phoenix looks unimpressed while Maya messes around in the office WHEN ALL HES DOING IS READING MANGA. +10 points for... adding to the canon that Phoenix likes to read manga?

Also, I just noticed that they have the same poster on the wall behind Charley as they do in the games. Fantastic.

Max: YOURE PULLING MY WAND

Dude... you're supposed to be in a kid friendly anime... stop talking about your 'wand'

Phoenix: I think hes pulling my wand...

NOT YOU TOO, PHOENIX. AND WHAT WOULD EDGEWORTH THINK????

Aw, we finally see them enjoying some genuine japanese [burgers] in an episode. We all know how much Maya loves [burgers].

I wasnt paying full attention to the episode since I was drawing and I just look up and see Gumshoe wearing Max's hat and I started laughing. +10 points for being so in character

I like seeing more performers than just Regina, Ben and Trilo, Max and Moe. Makes it seem more like a normal circus and not a bunch of weirdos in a big tent.

I forgot that 'Togo' is an African country and I was about to make a 'Cancel Moe' joke since the 'Country in Africa' joke sounded weirdly racist.

The sudden jolt between 'suave max' and 'lotta's cousin max' was so sudden I expected more of a reaction from Phoenix. (I actually knew a guy who went to speech therapy to drop his deep southern accent)

Money is 100x funnier than the game. Straight up throwing shit at Phoenix because he had the AUDACITY to chase him after he stole his PRIZED POSSESSION.

Phoenix: banana eating son of a...

Me: let Phoenix say 'bitch'

The picture of Phoenix's face looking like a monkeys has been burned into my brain. -100 billion points

Edit: tumblr ate the rest of this post so I'm trying to remake it.

Max: I cant actually fly! I'm just hanging by some hella thin wires!

I adore Max's southern accent. It's so cute. +100 stars to Aaron Robert's for the performance.

I want to tell Franziska that putting up and taking down an apparatus meant to make a person fly takes time and energy to do. You cant just put one up and take it down without at least one person seeing it.

Yet, I have a feeling she will try to prove how it could be done and use Gumshoe as a test subject.

I actually figured out the murder method during Moes testimony because of an episode of Detective Conan. As a small child I saw an episode where a killer created an alibi for himself by taking a dummy and the victims decapitated head and set up wires to make them swing by a window. The dummy was dressed in the killers disguise and the head was wrapped in a cape so no one could see that it lacked a body, making everyone think the killer was outside carrying the still living victim when he was still inside with everyone else.

When Moes testimony showed that he only saw Max's silhouette and he flew straight up, I figured it had to be some kind of dummy or likeness on a rope being pulled by someone on a higher floor. Once I saw Max's bust, I knew for sure that it was a murder weapon.

(And I only remember that episode from 20 years ago because it scarred me for years. And I didnt even see the swinging head scene, my brother told me about it later. Scared the living shit out of me)

2 notes · View notes

justjessame · 5 years ago

Text

A Little Ass And A Lotta Sass Chapter 4: OK, So I'm NOT Dead. Everything Is Just Topsy Turfy. Carry On. Carry On.

I left the kitchen after explaining myself as much as I could. Running back upstairs, I decided to do the fucking laundry anyway. Why not? I was clearly alive. Clearly awake. And clearly not brain damaged. Plus the added bonus of not having to deal with everyone’s fucking expectations above what to use for fabric softener.

Grabbing the basket from the bathroom I shared with Carl, I moved to Judith’s bedroom and added the clothes and cloth diapers to our basket. Then I went to the master bathroom and added Michonne’s and Dad’s to the mix. I was leaving their bathroom when I saw I wasn’t alone. Michonne stood leaning against the closed bedroom door. Great. A new lecture.

“Callie,” she started, smiling the brilliant smile that made me like her the first time I saw it. “This is weird, for all of us.” She moved to sit where the bed used to live, but glared at the empty space like I had glared at mine earlier. “Damn it.”

I giggled. Yep, I thought, it sucks when you want to build up an expectation for a relationship and you realize the other half is Satan’s offspring. “Isn’t that a fucking irritation?” I asked, scrunching up my nose at the blankets that now constituted our beds. “The man I’m supposed to share with some useless bimbos and who stole our fucking beds. One and the same.” I nodded, sitting the basket of dirty clothes down. I mimicked her leaning against the bedroom door by leaning against the wall.

She sighed, realizing selling me on Negan was going to be far more difficult than she’d originally thought. “He seems to be more interested in you than your father assumed.” Lame, I thought, lame and really fucking minimal in the ‘reasons to start a relationship’ category.

I shrugged and offered my theory. “I’m a shiny new toy that he wants to add to his toy box full of shiny toys.” I bit my lip, I knew that I’d considered it only yesterday, but now? Now it wasn’t really my choice or my idea. That wasn’t even remotely interesting to me. I nodded, realizing that was the major issue I had with the situation, that and sharing anything with anyone. Ugh.

“Callie,” Michonne’s voice sounded like a cross between trying to get me to be reasonable and trying to make me acknowledge that it may be worth it to at least bring peace.

“I did consider it, you know.” I said, looking into her dark eyes. “Yesterday, while Dad and you were gone. I wondered if it would work.” I let my head fall back against the wall. “I didn’t know about the other wives when I allowed myself to wonder. I didn’t know that Dad and him would think it up without me being included in the negotiations.” I sighed. “I don’t even know if I LIKE him, Mich.”

That made her chuckle. “Well, I think that makes ALL of us, Callie.” I smirked at her. “But all of us saw how he treated you when you fainted yesterday. He carried you inside, he stood guard over you demanding for the doctor to be brought from the Sanctuary.” I raised an eyebrow at that, I didn’t even notice if the doctor came. “We cancelled the very idea of the doctor coming, you fainted, it never happened before, but he’d caught you before you hit your head.” She bit her own lip. “And he brought Daryl back. He even has his damn bike and crossbow back.” Shit, was this all true? “His people, they were as shocked as you seem to be.”

I considered what she was saying. Negan. Brain beating baseball bat wielding Negan. The man who cut open Spencer without blinking. Who ordered someone to be shot over Rosita’s move at attempted assassination. Negan wanted me. Well, fuck. What was I supposed to do with this fucking information?

“Think about it, Callie.” She offered, opening her bedroom door. “There isn’t a time constraint for your decision.” She winked and offered the best advice a woman could give another. “Personally? I’d make him beg.”

I did the laundry. SLOWLY. Like more slowly than I’d ever tried to do laundry before. And I stayed with it. The entire fucking time. I think I may have hypnotized myself watching the clothes go round and round in the wash. I was leaning against the wall opposite the machines, considering the pros and cons of agreeing to become whatever to Negan. Not a wife, right? I mean it seemed like he tossed that term around to anything with a wet slit, and to be honest, that was weird and concerning.

So CON: Negan seemed to take commitment with a grain of salt and a side of wow that chick’s hot, wife her up.

He took care of me when I decided to faint like a freaking weakling. Even catching me before I could get the brain damage I’d been worried about this morning.

PRO: He could put aside the rampant God complex and narcissism when called for.

I thought about the way he spoke to Olivia, before she was unceremoniously shot. The shaming, the weird theory that offering sex would fix the shaming.

CON: He’s a dick. A huge, irritating dick. Sometimes?

I bit my lip and thought about Glenn and Abe. I thought about Carl without his bandage. I thought about Daryl, but then reconsidered Daryl since he was home now, but was he OK? Fuck that’s a circular thought of doom. I thought about Spencer, but honestly I’d never trusted him or his family. I thought about Rosita, but had to put her in the category of making your bed and now you lay in it. I mean who tries to kill someone who’s being guarded by all those fucking weirdos?

CON: He’s probably a psychopath. He’s more than definitely a psychopath.

PRO: He’s a murderous psychopath, but he keeps people safe? Jesus, that was weak even for me. OK, he’s a psycho who killed someone who showed their lack of loyalty. To my DAD.

I thought about the dining room table. About how we felt against one another. How his mouth felt, the promise of more, of better. I flushed from the thought of him naked, pressed against me and nearly slid down the wall. Shit.

PRO: Negan was very clearly sex on legs. A walking, talking promise of multiple orgasms. And the mouth on him.

“You look like you’re thinking way too fucking hard about something, darlin’.” My eyes closed and I fought the urge to scream. Who the fuck told him where to find me? “Carl.” So he could read my fucking thoughts now.

I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me, hip leaning against the washer. Shit, fuck. Damn it. “I was making a list.” I answered, licking my lip and watching his eyes lock on my mouth.

“A list?” His voice sounded far huskier than the thought of a list should make. “What kind of list, angel?”

I smirked. Dear God, he was fucking horny. From me licking my lip. “A pro/con list. About you.”

His eyes lifted to mine. An eyebrow raised. “Really?” He moved toward me, his body close but not touching mine. “Do I wanna know how good or bad the list is?”

I shook my head, fighting the urge to touch him. Anywhere. “I’m not sure you want to know.” I answered, feeling breathless again. Fuck. Really, Callie?

His fingers, now encased in his leather gloves, touched my chin. “Oh, now I damn well fucking do wanna know.” He bit his lower lip and my eyes flicked to it. Damn it, it wasn’t just one sided.

I sighed, and tilted my head to study him. “You asked for it.” I warned, and then I listed them, one by one.

“Sex on fucking legs?” Of course he’d pick that one. The only one that he’d even hear, no doubt. “Damn, and you said you didn’t think you liked me. Fuck, baby doll, I think you like me a whole fucking lot.”

I rolled my eyes. Yep, I was going to end up going blind from that. “Did you miss the others? Cause they are just as, if not more, important than that one.”

He scoffed. “The rest? Nah, those aren’t important, because I can’t fix those easily. Not here. Not now. But that one, oh, darlin’ that one I can fucking fix right the fuck now.”

I licked my lip and then his mouth was on mine, pressing me against the wall, his body tight against mine. He moved his mouth long enough to make a promise that I fucking hoped he could keep. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart, that the ONLY fucking thing you’re gonna remember is my fucking name.” His hips rocked into me and I felt how fucking hard he was. “My name and how to fucking scream it.”

I moaned. I’m not proud of it. I’m not exactly ashamed by it either, but I sounded so wanton and I may have thrust my hips forward at the promise. Jesus, in the laundry room? My body was screaming “YES, IN THE FUCKING LAUNDRY ROOM, YOU MORON” while my mind was quiet. Damn it, today my fucking overactive brain takes a break?

Negan was tugging my tank up pulling it over my head and groaning at the proof that I was braless. “Fuck, Callie.” His leather gloved hands slid over my nipples and I nearly came from that touch alone. Dear fucking God, I called it. Multiple orgasms in my future. Fuck, multiple orgasms in this fucking laundry room. Guaranteed. I felt his breathing grow ragged as his hands slid lower, sliding under the elastic waistband of my yoga pants. I lurched into his touch. Those fucking gloves may be bringing a new kink into my world. “You like that don’t you, baby girl?” I felt his lips against my earlobe. A nip on the flesh there and I felt that same fire rush through me. Fuck. I was only half undressed and I was already a mess of need. He might have been right yesterday, and that fucking burned my ass.

I pushed him back, knowing that if he really didn’t want to move, I wouldn’t have been able to budge him. I tore the leather jacket from his shoulders. Screw the clothed male, half nude female vibe going on. He was going to be as fucking naked and shameless as me or no fucking deal. The shirt was next. On the floor with the growing pile of our clothes. My hands yanked at the first belt at his waist. “Why the fuck are you wearing multiple belts?” I growled, freeing one then starting on the other. “Don’t fucking try to tell me you have to keep your cock under lock and key because it's so fucking impressive,” I glared up at him, fucking daring him to start a joke now, of all times. He didn’t, hopefully he was teachable about the proper time and place for that shit. The second belt free, I popped the button on his jeans. I looked up at him and realized he was stunned. Absolutely fucking stunned by me. I raised an eyebrow, and smiled. Oh, this was going to be so much fucking fun. “You ok, Negan?” I asked, letting my finger pull his zipper down. It was obscenely loud, even with the machines going, even with him panting above me. He gulped and nodded. Holy shit, I’ve rendered him mute. I licked my lips, and that did it. He shoved his jeans down, kicking his boots off and yanked me to him. Well shit, I didn’t even get to enjoy the view.

“You’re fucking going to pay for that, little girl.” He growled against my lips. I smirked. Sure, I thought, right up until I do this. I trailed one finger down his chest, stopping only when he went completely still. He was panting again, and I smiled as his eyes closed. Huh, wonder what the cost would be for rendering Negan fucking speechless?

With the hand that wasn’t mesmerizing him, I lowered my own pants. I kicked off my boots, noticing that he’d at least been able to open his eyes to watch something. Then, fully naked, just like him, I crooked that same finger with a clear challenge. Bring it.

#negan x ofc #Smut #the walking dead

9 notes · View notes

xandars · 6 years ago

Text

where the birds sing

word count: 2183

warnings: none

ao3 link

Summary: The development of Sam and Bucky’s relationship through the years, starting with a pair of binoculars. (childhood friends to lovers)

—

AGE 12

—

Sam sits carelessly on the tree branch, legs dangling and eyes closed. He takes in the warm breeze, appreciating the soft chirping of birds. He wonders how many surround him in that moment.

“Hey!”

Sam jumps at the sudden noise, opening one eye to peek at the weirdo who scared him. There’s a boy looking up at him, with blue eyes and brown hair. He’s holding something in his hand, but Sam can’t make it out from this angle.

“What are you doing up there?” The boy pries, squinting at him. Sam wishes he’d stop doing that. He turns away to look at the sky instead.

“I’m birdwatching.” He says to him. Why does he suddenly feel so embarrassed about that? Sam crosses his arms.

“Is that so?” The boy turns to look, hand hooded over his eyes to block out the sun. “How can you even see them from here? You got eagle eyes or somethin’?”

“I prefer falcons.” Sam says bluntly. With that, the boy looks up at him with a smirk. Sam rubs his arms.

“Well, hold these for me will ya?” He steps forward, holding out what Sam can now see is a pair of bulky binoculars. Sam reaches forward to take them from him, then watches as the boy starts to scale the tree to join him.

“What are you—?” The boy sits right next to Sam, a little too close if you as him. When their knees brush together, Sam shifts slightly.

“Well, someone’s gotta show you how to use them.” The boy says obnoxiously, taking the binoculars from him. He puts them up to his eyes and looks off into the distance. Sam tries to find where he’s looking.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Bucky?”

Bucky puts the binoculars down and furrows his eyebrows. “What? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothin’ wrong with it,” Sam assures him, shrugging. He quite likes it actually. “I’m Sam.”

With that, Bucky gives him a wide smile.

Later, Sam’s mom asks about his new binoculars.

—

Turns out, Bucky goes to the same school as Sam.

Sam thinks he’s pretty smart, he’s good at math. Bucky is quick to help Sam with stuff he doesn’t understand, which he is great because he hates math. In return, Sam helps him with his writing, cause Bucky isn’t too good with words sometimes.

It isn’t long before Bucky starts poking him at recess.

“Do you wanna play basketball?” Bucky asks, holding it up for emphasis. Sam nods and joins him on the court.

Sam finds out that Bucky has four sisters, which he can’t remember all of their names but he’ll get them eventually. Bucky’s the middle child of them all, which Sam says completely sucks. He agrees.

Bucky wins their game, but Sam would never tell him he missed his shots on purpose.

A months later, a new student joins their class. His name is Steve and looks as if the wind blew on too hard he’d topple over. Kinda like the Three Little Pigs.

“My mom knows his mom,” Bucky tells him at recess. They are playing tic-tac-toe with chalk. It’s boring and a bit childish, but it passes the time. Sam puts down an ‘x’ in light green. “They worked together for a bit, I think. Apparently, he’s gotta lotta health problems.”

Bucky puts down an ‘o’, falling into Sam’s trap and loses the game.

“Again?” He whines and starts making a new game.

—

Bucky doesn’t meet him at recess, which is odd because that was their routine. That is, until Sam hears loud arguing coming from the benches. He turns to see Bucky on top of one of their classmates and rushes over before he can land another hit, yanking him off.

“H-Hey, let me go!”

“Bucky, what are you doing?” Sam asks, shaking him. He doesn’t look at Sam, opting to stare at the asphalt.

“He started it,” Bucky argues, rubbing his nose. He winces looking at the blood on his hand. “H-He started making fun of Steve, started pushing him around and stuff. What was I supposed to do?”

Before he can reply, a teacher finally comes and takes all them away. Steve glances at Sam before being taken to the nurse. He can kinda make out the beginnings of a black eye.

Sam and Bucky both get sent to the principal’s office instead. Bucky has his arms crossed. His nose is still bleeding, seeping into his blue t-shirt.

Annoyed, Sam gets up to grab a box of tissues off the front desk. Before handing them over, he tells Bucky, “You’re an absolute idiot.”

“What? I’m not the bad guy here,” Bucky complains, taking a tissue. He winces again. “Maybe you should be tellin’ Steve that, you should’ve heard the stuff he said.”

“I never said you were,” Sam continues. “But you’re quite somethin’ Barnes.” He pokes Bucky’s leg.

Instead of arguing more, Bucky gives him a wide smile. It’s almost identical from the first day they met.

Sam’s chest feels weird.

—

That night, he’s just about done with one of his books when his mother calls him down for dinner. Sam flies down the stairs and into the kitchen, welcoming the familiar smell of mac and cheese. His mother is still wearing her scrubs from the hospital.

“Hey Sammy,” She greets him, carefully spooning some macaroni into a bowl. When she places the bowl in front of him, she kisses his cheek. “How was school today?”

“Oh, you know,” Sam starts, sticking his fork into the macaroni. “Just the same old boring stuff.”

She hums with disbelief as she grabs a bowl for herself. “Do you wanna tell me why I got a call from one of your teachers today?”

Oh boy.

“Uh…no.” He stuffs some food into his mouth.

“Samuel.”

He sighs, knowing he’s already lost. “A kid was getting picked on, Mama.”

She nods, taking a seat next to Sam. “And does this new friend of yours have anything to do with it?”

“Well, you see Bucky was protecting him.”

“Ah, protecting him… I see,” She says, “Don’t I always tell you to stay out of trouble?”

“Yes, but—”

“And what am I gonna do with a troublemaker like you?” She tells him softly, a faint smile hiding behind her lips. His mother gives him a pinch on the cheek when he grins at her.

—

AGE 14

—

It’s the summer before they start high school and Sam is outside in his backyard on his old swing set. Bucky said he’d come over and hang out with him soon, which feels like complete years at this point.

He makes patterns in the dirt with his shoes and wishes Bucky was better at being on time.

Sam hops off the swing and opts to peeking at his mother’s garden. He admires her flowers and thinks about how it’d feel to give one to Bucky someday.

He shakes the thought away. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He would never—

“Hey loser, are you here?”

Bucky walks through his backyard gate, giving Sam a bright smile. He has one of his arms around his back.

“You’re a little late,” Sam tells him, walking towards his swing again. “I thought you weren’t gonna show up.”

“You really think I’d do that to you?” Bucky asks, smile falling, but then says quickly, “Well, hey, I got you these.”

He pulls out a yellow bag of butterscotch candies from behind his back and tosses them to Sam.

“I know they’re your favorite.” He adds.

Sam smiles and tears the package open, fishing two out and holding one out to Bucky.

Their hands brush briefly when he comes to take it and they sit in comfortable silence for a long time.

—

They are sitting in Sam’s living room, watching some random animated movie on TV. Both are working on homework, so they aren’t really paying attention to it.

Sam mindlessly taps his pencil on his notebook and sneaks a glance at Bucky sitting on a recliner, nose in a world history book. He thinks about how lucky he is to have his best friend, even if some days they can’t stand each other. And even on those days, they could never handle being apart.

Bucky looks up and interrupts his thoughts, “What are you dreaming about over there, Bird Brain?”

“About how much I hate you.” He replies instantly, with absolutely no bite.

“Oh, so you were dreaming about me?”

Sam doesn’t respond, just gives him an eye roll and goes back to doing his algebra homework.

“You were totally dreaming about me.” He hears Bucky mumble annoyingly.

—

AGE 17

—

Sam and Bucky go to prom together, not as a couple of course, definitely not, but you know. Together.

They join Steve and Peggy’s group, accompanied by their friend Nat and honestly, prom is fun for the most part. It was a little boring at times, but Sam just enjoys being around everyone, enjoys seeing all the dresses and suits.

They were at an afterparty now, Tony Stark’s to be exact. It’s loud and obnoxious, which is more so what he expected. He and Bucky are both outside on Tony’s back porch, sitting on a bench together and mulling over old memories.

“I still remember when you pulled me out of that fight,” Bucky says. “What was that like— in 7th grade?”

“Yeah I think so,” Sam replies, “It was Mrs. Henry that called my mom that night.”

Bucky laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “I always hated her. She was a major fuckin’ control freak.”

“Tell me about it.” Sam takes a swig from his cup, just soda, nothing too special.

“I don’t think I every properly thanked you for that,” Bucky says suddenly and turns to him. “So, thank you Sam. I think— without you I might’ve lost an arm there.”

Sam chuckles and takes another drink. “I wouldn’t be so damn dramatic.”

There’s a few moments of silence, seconds of comfort, before he hears Bucky say, “Sam, I hope you know I would give everything to you if I could.”

It’s probably not a great idea that he and Bucky are sitting this close together with no one to see or hear them. The party booms inside, music and all, but seems so distant.

Sam carefully takes Bucky’s hand.

They don’t talk about prom again.

—

A WEEK BEFORE GRADUATION

—

They are both lying in the grass next to Sam’s swing. The sun is going down, which casts a warm glow over the world and if he could, he would take a picture. A moment in time just for the two of them.

Bucky has his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever really thought about your future? Like… what you want?”

“I mean, yeah I guess. Aren’t you always supposed to be thinking about that stuff?”

“Yeah, but everyone tells you to think about college or a job or somethin’ like that…” Bucky trails off and sits up to start picking at the grass. “I’m talking like…like uh—”

Sam glances over and Bucky’s face flushed. He won’t look at Sam and focuses intently on a blade of grass he’s pulled from the ground. He starts to play with it until finally he asks, “Have you ever thought about getting married?”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow. Bucky didn’t really like to talk about sentimental stuff, so why was he asking about marriage?

“Of course I have.” Sam says simply.

“And…?”

“And what?”

“Wilson, you’re killing me here,” Bucky throws his hands up childishly. He finally meets Sam’s eyes. “Do you wanna get married?”

For some reason, Sam doesn’t know how to answer his question. It’s rather simple, but at the same time he can’t help but feel Bucky is asking him something else. Or rather, he wishes he was. He thinks about Bucky in a suit, thinks about two golden bands, thinks about—

“Yeah, I do.” Is all Sam can reply with. Bucky gives him a small half smile, then holds something up to Sam’s face. It was a blade of grass and tied carefully to make a small ring.

“Maybe I’ve been misreading everything, or maybe this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I know we aren’t even dating, but I just— I want you to know that I think about you all the time.”

“Bucky—”

“Let me finish,” He says quickly, “Everytime I get that question about the future… it’s always with you. I can’t see myself anywhere else. Like I think I’d rather die if that were to happen,” Bucky tosses the ring. Then he falls back again, arms behind his head. “Not really, but god— I really do love you.”

Sam laughs at that last comment. He shifts to lean over Bucky and look him in the eyes.

“You’re quite somethin’, Barnes.” He says with a smirk.

“Am I?” Bucky’s eyes are practically glittering and Sam can’t focus on anything else.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Then Sam finally leans down to kiss him proper.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #my writing #i didnt actually read through this im just impulsively posting this right now

64 notes · View notes

6ad6ro · 5 years ago

Text

im watching the projared explanation vid rn n i'm gonna keep adding to this as i watch. think of this as like real-time commentary? even tho it’s not real-time at all like i’m just pausing the video to make lil comments. here’s vid btw. but geez it'd be weird if all he did was cheat (like it's icky i’m def against cheating... but how would that matter to you if it doesn't involve u personally?).

TLDR (this was written after the fact): i’m rly leaning towards believing him about not doing the underage stuff. and i wished i had listened to my initial gut on that. i could care less about exchanging nudes with fans if they were 18+. i also could care less about any relationship drama. anyways i watched all of it and wrote a LOT. it’s kinda interesting (not rly) to see my opinion change over the course of the writing? i was really tearing into jared at first ahaha. but i’m putting it under a readmore. it’s not written well at all so read if you dare...

just started watching. first of all i will say it feels very scripted (is he lying/acting/performing? or is it just well thought out??) idk and LOL at him purposely looking unshaven and like a mess... like THAT was at least on purpose and makes me immediately not rly trust him? but idk i can't actually judge him based on this rly... then again what a sappy fucking thumbnail.

aw geez IT'S LIKE HE'S DOIN A REG COMEDY VIDEO like stop acting dude? i know he's... well he’s weird and seems like a very “scripted” person if that makes sense? but... it's just a rly weird move to try and make a "here's the real story/apology" video this way. not how i’d do it at all (and i’ve been there to a much lesser degree so)...

oh and i know he's SUPER mad at the two (at the time) underage ppl? and justifiably so if they lied. but idk his claim that the only reason for them to remove their accusation posts was "bc they held no water and they knew the timing was right to safely do the most damage"? uh dude you're one of the more well known youtubers like IMAGINE all the ppl that were harassing these guys? well at least they were both lgbtq etc and the gaming community has a traditionally open mind about that (sarcasm).

btw i kinda hate the term "the tea" too? soo much. but just bc it's another appropriated term white kids overuse... but even still i probably wouldn't have opened up a vid like this... well i'll just say it... was he straight up pointing the finger at gay ppl etc for harassing him n bein shallow n only enjoying the drama etc? like idKKK it just felt like he was calling out sassy gay ppl ONLY like why did he even say that??

yeah bc straight white gamer dudes NEVER gossip about drama. they NEVER act shallow. dude ur fanbase is like... some of the most shallow, gossipy ppl out there. i can't TELL you how many AWFUL videos i watched of your fans n other youtbers talking about you. and how... INSANE? it was? that they only rly called you out for "cheating on your cute wife" bc the accusations of underage shit n manipulation yeah nbd! but god forbid you cheat on your "attractive cosplay wife".

srry i'm rly tearing him apart here... i'm not meaning to. almost every gaming personality has shit fans. even i? me. a nobody. have to double check new followers to see if they're nazis etc? it's so common... anyways i'm not actually damning him in any way yet even if i'm bringing up so many lil issues i have w this vid lol srry?

btw i used to follow his tumblr. there was WEIRD shit going on, esp right before it shut down. like the "i got hacked" thing seems really convinient? IDK srry it's just my gut but he reminds me of sociopaths etc i used to be friends with. how he explains things and talks... like they all sound a lil like dennis from always sunny? idk my gut is tellin me he's full of shit i'm sorry. gonna keep watching. wait he really WAS hacked? i mean i guess i believed he was hacked at first bc the guy posting awful shit and claiming to be a pro-hacker was... well he was too crazy to be made up. a real fucking maniac loser.

as time is going on, unless all of this stuff is fabricated? he seems ro have found a crazy amount of proof that he didn't do the underage stuff. like... maybe the weird vibes he gave off is this stuff drove him insane? like... i’ve been friends with/dated quite a few fucked up, gaslighting assholes? trying to figure out what the fuck is going on can drive you a little nuts. he's kinda winning me over here a lil... again if the underage/manipulation stuff is untrue? i could care less about the other stuff. and i LOVE ross? but srry... who cares about that other stuff...

to explain what changed my mind: most ppl that he reminds me of are sociopaths etc. or rather, people that really fucked my life up. so i have a lotta baggage regarding them? and they're bigger in my mind than the other types. i won't lie the way he explains things and argues points REALLY bugs me? but i know ppl like that who are good people. or at least not psychopaths. immature, basic idiots at the worst (not that im callin HIM an idiot). anyways that alone doesn't make him guilty. watchin more now.

i was about to bring up that its actually really... cool? that he's focusing on the underage shit rather than the cheating/drama? bc thats all that needs to be explained rly? but LOL he just got to the "game grumps" part n in losing it. am i rly about to drown in this drama? fuck dude lol noooooo....

okay finished it. fuck man idk i feel stupid. right at the start i even was like "noooo he couldn't have!" but the underage stuff is like... like that shit makes my brain boil n stop working n go into “ill kill him” mode. and jared was so silent and so i figured he was doing damage control (ignoring it until it went away) rather than research to show people this was all fake/getting legal advice?

i kinda think he didn't do any of the real icky shit. i still get a vibe he might be a weirdo. and i don't think heidi necessarily made ALL of that stuff up? and i could care less that he was getting sexually involved w his fans like even I have been flirted with due to running a game gif blog (god knows why). and like FUCK it's so normalized for ppl in bands to sleep w fans? so why on EARTH would people think youtube gamerz are “too good for that”? anyways...

my point is, i think i mighta been wrong about him n the underage stuff. idk what to believe about the other stuff? the only thing i know for sure is that ross o'donovan is a very sweet n nice guy. and i'm so glad the drama between him and jared was imagined. it was prob just shitty to have fans ask him about it over and over...

okay lol if you just read all of this please go do something more fun and interesting now lol! i'm gonna put this all under a readmore and put a tldr on it! and... go to bed bc fuck its 2am OOPS!

#DONT reply or message me if you wanna fight about this #projared

9 notes · View notes

imbicuriousyeah · 7 years ago

Text

loosen up: part 1

Amber x reader

word count: 1680

prompt: you’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista bartender and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins

~~~

It’s your birthday, so you’d decided to get absolutely smashed and try to forget the fact that you’ve gotten a year older and you have pretty much no life outside of med school and your only friend has abandoned you because she got a headache. Well, that last bit happened after you’d gotten most of the way from tipsy to drunk, but still. Damn her and her sensitive head. Maybe you should’ve stayed in after all. Rented a movie, had a sleepover, maybe invited some of your med school friends and gotten drunk in the comfort of your home?

Oh right, most of your friends worked the graveyard shift. And there was something about the anonymity and atmosphere of clubs and bars that you particularly enjoyed. It had absolutely nothing to do with the gorgeous bartender with the infectious smile and intricate tattoo sleeve and her perfect hair- not at all. Speaking of which, where did she go? You look over the crowd towards the door and see her leaving, lighter in hand, haloed by the neon lights.

It’s now that your brain decides to remind you that yes, you already knew she smoked. Not because you’d been watching her, not at all. That would’ve been creepy.

So that’s why I haven’t been back here.

You rest your head against the wall with a sigh. Last time you’d gotten drunk here you’d decided to leave her a note. And not just a note, not just your number, like a normal person, oh no. You’d written some kind of drunken tirade about exactly what happens to your lungs when you smoke, full of medical jargon and using up four whole napkins. She probably thought you were insane.

Your head jerks back up as you see her disappear behind the bar, bending down for a moment before walking back out towards the door with a water bottle in hand. What’s that about?

She reappears less than a minute later, reinstating herself behind the bar, looking bored as she fidgets with one of her many rings. You don’t think about it, you just act. Which is exactly what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

“I see you haven’t stopped smoking yet.” Dear god I wish I could hit myself over the head with- with something heavy.

She laughs, and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything, the fact that it was your birthday, why you were scolding her in the first place. If her smile is infectious, her laugh is an epidemic.

“So it’s my conscientious medical student again. Nice to see you too.” She leans on the bar with her elbows, looking at you. You feel yourself start to blush, so you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“I’m surprised you aren’t coughing up your lungs yet.” She raises an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to do better than that. Then again, I don’t know if you can top last week’s dissertation.” She turns to the shelves behind her an rummages, pushing aside a bottle of absurdly expensive vodka. When she turns back around she’s brandishing several napkins. You groan. You don’t even have to look to know they’re covered in your minuscule scrawl.

“I’m so sorry about that, you must think I’m a weirdo.”

“I actually thought it was amusing, which is why I kept them.” She smiles and turns back around to replace the napkins in their ‘hiding spot.’

“I tell myself I won’t get drunk like that again, but the time comes around, and here I am.”

“I mean, I’m like that with my cigarettes, and I know you know. But, for your sake, I have been trying to make it down to five a day.”

“Five a day?” You probably sound horrified, and you really should not have been so surprised, but for some godforsaken reason you were. Or at least you shouldn’t have let it show.

“Relax. At least it’s not a pack a day. I’m a broke art student, I cant afford anti-depressants.”

You suddenly feel a whole lot more like you’re meddling in something that’s not your business. She must see the change in your expression because she shakes her head.

“It’s not a secret. And I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”

“I’m just- I’m a med student, so I get fixated on stuff like that.”

“I guessed as much, I mean about the med school bit. Either that or you have a whole lotta free time on your hands to research the effects of smoking. My name is Amber, by the way.” She holds her hand out to you and suddenly your mouth has gone dry.

“Y/N.” You shake her hand, probably a bit too quickly, before jerking your hand back. You can feel the blush crawling up your neck and into your cheeks.

“You’re even cuter when you blush, did you know that?” Amber says with another of her blinding smiles. As she probably expected, that just causes the blush to deepen.

“I- Um-” You stutter, like some schoolgirl with a crush. Which isn’t actually that far from the truth, you realize with embarrassment.

“Did I hear your friend say it was your birthday?” Amber asks, folding her hands in front of her on the bar.

“Yeah- wait what?”

“She asked to use my phone when I was on my smoke break. I saw you two talking earlier so I assumed you were friends.” You suddenly pat your pockets, realizing with a sinking feeling that you have two phones instead of one.

“Shit…”

“I gave her some water after she called for someone to pick her up. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I can go check if she’s gone for you, if that would make you feel better?” You nod, too embarrassed to speak. Why did you have her phone in the first place? Did she ask you to hold it or something? You can’t remember.

Amber returns with a smile, and you feel better just by being on the receiving end of it.

“Your friend got picked up, everything’s good.”

“Thanks Amber. Wow I feel like such an airhead.”

“Hey, I’ve seen worse. At least you still have her phone. I’m assuming you have it, right?” She looks over and you nod quickly. “Well, you wouldn’t believe how many phones I’ve found in bathrooms or out on the floor when I close. There were several memorable occasions when patrons have left their phones in their drinks.” Amber shakes her head, incredulous, and you laugh. “There you go, loosen up will you, its your birthday!” How is she even real?

“Guess it’s all the training to be impartial, cool under pressure, that has me all- all tight-laced.”

“I guess that’s what I’m here for then.”

“And the alcohol.”

“And the alcohol,” she agrees with a laugh, “though I think you’ve had enough of that for tonight.”

“Yeah.” You lift a hand to massage your temple, maybe you were being a bit hypocritical earlier.

“You need me to call you a cab?”

You shake your head. “I’ll be fine.”

“You have a designated driver?”

“No.” Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted you were fine quite so quickly.

“Are you sure about that cab?”

“Actually…”

Amber smiles and waves her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. You come sit here for now, alright?” She lifts up a section of the bar and beckons for you to follow her.

“But the bar-”

“Casey can cover for me. We’re winding down for the night anyway. C'mon, it’s quieter back here.”

You sigh and follow her, your head immediately protesting the movement, though, like Amber had anticipated, as soon as the door closes behind you both and seals off some of the noise, it protests slightly less.

“You’ve been drinking water, haven’t you?”

“What, lecturing me on my health?” You laugh, “yes, that last glass was just water.”

“Just checkin.” She says, then leaves through a side door, gesturing with her phone as an explanation. You lean back in the chair and close your eyes, savoring the quieter atmosphere. You don’t remember getting migraines from noise before. That often, anyway. Maybe you were getting old. Just lovely. Back to the reason I was drinking in the first place.

You don’t have much time to brood though, because Amber returns. You suddenly fixate o the texture of the flannel tied around her waist. It looks so soft. And you’ve leaned over to touch it before you even realized what you were doing.

“So soft…” You murmur, running your fingers along the fabric.

“Okay, so it was perfect time to call it a night then.” Amber just seems amused. “The cab will be here in five minutes or so. Want to go wait outside?”

“Yeah, it’s stuffy in here.” You follow her obediently out a side door and into an alley, where you walk a few paces before emerging out onto the street.

“Thanks, by the way, for all this.” You look over and she’s smiling at you. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the storm of butterflies that flare up in response to that smile. “Your eyes are really beautiful, do you know that?”

She chuckles, ducking her head. “I’ve been told. Though never by someone as pretty as you.” It’s your turn to be flustered. Again. It really seems to be a pattern, doesn’t it.

Amber turns towards you as you see a cab rounding the corner at the end of the street.

“How about I give you my number, in case you ever need help unlacing.” She offers with a smile.

You stare for a moment before fumbling in your pocket for your phone and struggling to unlock it. Wait shit this isn’t mine.

Amber laughs and pulls on your hand as the cab pulls up to the curb, writing a string of digits on your forearm in sharpie. “This way you won’t lose it.”

You look up at her, and she smiles that radiant smile again, and as the cab drives away you can’t help but think maybe this birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

part 2

masterlist

#amber liu #amber liu scenarios #amber liu scenario #f(x) amber #f(x) scenarios #f(x)#amber scenarios #sylvanwriting #amber fluff #amber liu fluff #amber f(x)#smoking #loosen up

93 notes · View notes

jackfollmanwriter-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The Phantom

No one knew more about the West Texas Phantom than grizzlymane415.

I exhausted all of the available information online - the Wikipedia page, the citations on the Wikipedia page, the weird blogspots, wordpresses and even a couple of Angelfires back in the day, the annoying slideshows which promised shocking revelations, but delivered none and just crashed my browser - they had all been laid to waste. My last bastion for any good information about the Phantom was an unsolved murder subreddit populated by other lonely weirdos who were probably collecting unemployment checks and ignoring the creepy messages on their numerous online dating profiles.

The group was great for the passionate discussions about the Phantom I could only have with complete, anonymous strangers who didn't assume I was some kind of sociopathic serial killer myself when I wanted to talk about my fascination with the still free killer of more than 20 people who stalked the plains and oil fields of West Texas in the late-80s. The group was also well-stocked with fascinating theories, like how the Phantom may have been a railroad conductor, or how he was a well-known high school football coach named Butch whose crimes were covered up to protect his legacy.

I also relished when some "newb" would wander into the group and start spouting out information we all had already dissected down to the finest molecule. It got to the point where I put a sticky on top of the page which focused on the six principle pieces of information which defined the Phantom and led to my gang's particular fascination with him. Unless someone had NEW information about any of these principles, any posts about them would be promptly deleted.

The Phantom took all of his victims in broad daylight (whether or not they were killed during the day was up for debate)

All of the Phantom's victims were regular women, not the common prostitute victims most serial killers claimed

He used an 1894 Marlin Model rifle. An incredibly rare and valuable weapon.

It is likely he had a regular, white collar job as his killing sprees tended to take place just once a year in two-week spans.

It is possible he used railroads for transportation as nearly all of his killings took place near rail stops.

Tracks from a 1959 Chevrolet Apache truck were found leaving a few of the scenes.

However, none of this fully-satisfied my appetite for discovery. The only person who was able to do that was grizzlymane415.

It all started when grizzlymane415 posted viciously gruesome autopsy photos of one of the Phantom's first victims. The images were so horrifying I felt I should have put that white powder they use in autopsy rooms in cop shows/movies underneath my nostrils so I didn't vomit all over my keyboard. Full disclosure, about 90 percent of what I know about crime comes directly from TV and movies.

RachWhov: How did you get that?

I couldn't have typed the question fast enough. I never got an answer.

That would be far from the last juicy nuggets grizzlymane415 would post. Within days, he posted a copy of a letter to a news reporter at the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. The letter took credit for the first three murders which had been attributed to the Phantom and another I had never heard of which had never been connected to the Phantom.

RachWhov: Where did you get that?

I would get an answer this time from grizzlymane415, but not necessarily to that exact question.

(Note, for some reason, grizzlymane415 always typed in all caps. Sorry, I know)

grizzlymane415: THE PHANTOM LEFT CLUES EVERYWHERE. HE WAS ACTUALLY ONE OF THE SLOPPIEST SERIAL KILLERS TO NEVER GET CAUGHT. SOMETIMES I THINK HE DID IT ON PURPOSE. DID YOU KNOW HE USED TO TAKE MONEY FROM THE WALLETS OF EACH VICTIM AND THEIR JEWELRY TO RAISE AT LEAST SOME DOUBT IN THE COPS' MINDS THAT MAYBE HIS VICTIMS WERE SIMPLE VICTIMS OF ROBBERY?

RachWhov: I never heard that.

grizzlymane415: IT'S TRUE. CHECK ALL THE CASES. DO A LITTLE MORE GOOGLE SEARCHING. YOU WILL SEE SOME OF THE THEORIES.

grizzlymane415 was right. Everything I could find online suggest The Phantom had stolen money from each victim and their jewelry. Reports never seemed to focus on that too much, but it was occasionally mentioned. While it was never really mentioned in the stories, online threads and comment threads on stories frequently pointed it out, sometimes with foolish dissenters chiming in that he was just a random thief or many of his killings were just random robberies in the area which were attributed to him.

grizzlymane415: DON'T BELIEVE THE FOOLS THAT SAY IT WASN'T HIM EITHER. THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT. THE COPS KEPT TABS ON ALL THE PAWN SHOPS AND GOLD BUYERS IN TEXAS AND NONE OF THAT JEWELRY EVER WAS SOLD AGAIN. SO IT WAS NOT SOMEONE KILLING FOR A QUICK BUCK.

RachWhov: I believe that, it wouldn't make a whole lotta sense.

grizzlymane415: AND YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE CRAZY PART YET. THE JEWELRY SHOWED UP AGAIN, BUT IT WASN'T SOLD.

RachWhov: What?

grizzlymane415: CORRECT. THE JEWELRY STARTED SHOWING UP ON STATUES AROUND CHURCHES IN TEXAS. ANY VIRGIN MARY STATUES THAT HAD FINGERS WHICH COULD FIT THE RINGS OR NECKS FOR NECKLACES.

grizzlymane415 attached a few pictures of virgin Mary statues with rings and necklaces on them in what looked like Texas settings. The hair on my arms stood at attention. It was enough for me to put the brakes on the forum, and grizzlymane415, for a little while. I slunk back to my other favorite haunts of the Internet – Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, OKCupid – for a little while to stay safe and warm.

But I had to go back to the forum. At first I thought I would just ignore grizzlymane415, check out other cases, chat with my other super non-creepy, anonymous Internet friends, but I just couldn't do it. Here was my dream. Someone who could help me solve the crime which had engrossed and haunted me for years and I was going to run away because I was a scared, little girl? Plus, what's the worst that could happen? It was an anonymous board.

I cracked.

RachWhov: Where did you get those pictures.

grizzlymane415: THINGS ARE OUT THERE. HAVE YOU READ ABOUT THE JUDY PARCH AND PETRA HOLLIVER MURDERS?

RachWhov: Nope.

Tip – don't ever Google the Judy Parch and Petra Holliver murders. It is one of those cases which cues up first-page results of gruesome photos which will cling to your brain like an old stick of gum burned onto the sidewalk of a city street. My search pulled up a black and white photo of two women who I assumed were Judy and Petra clinging to each other in the backseat of a car, a blood-drenched blanket just not quite covering the damage of their faces.

To me, it wasn't even the gore of the photo which struck me so hard. It was the image of these two women who were clinging together like the last thing they wanted to do in the world was let each other know they loved one another before they suffered the world's great insult. They didn't even get the respect of having their final moments filled out with color. Nor, did they get the closure of having their case solved. Which brings me to one of the first major curiosities of grizzlymane415.

The murders of Judy Parch and Petra Holliver had never been connected to The Phantom in any way that I could find. Plus, they were murdered more than 1,000 miles away from The Phantom's stomping grounds of West Texas in Yucaipa, California, 50 miles or so outside of Los Angeles.

Overall there wasn't much information about the murder of Judy and Petra, other than a few archived articles from 1990 in the The Press-Enterprise in Riverside, California and some brief cold case pages. Not even a Wikipedia page frustratingly lacking of hyperlinks to other stories to engross yourself in. Their murder was just a little footnote in the murder history of the Inland Empire of California.

RachWhov: There is nothing at all on the Internet which connects The Phantom to the murder of Judy and Petra. Where are you getting this?

grizzlymane415: CHECK THE RECORDS ON THE CASE. OTHER THAN THE LOCATION, IT ALL POINTS TO THE PHANTOM. REMEMBER YOUR OWN PRINCIPLES ON THE TOP OF THIS PAGE.

I did live in California, but hours away from Yucaipa, so driving out there to check their public records search wasn't in the cards. However, my fascination with The Phantom runs deep, and I was able to get in touch with an old high school classmate who lived in Yucaipa who I Paypalled cash in return for wasting a Saturday morning and afternoon going through old murder records for me.

grizzlymane415 was correct, the Yucaipa muders covered all of the bases of my principles except the sixth.

The bodies of Judy and Petra were found just before sunset on a February day, meaning they were murdered sometime during the day.

Both women worked for the school district and were married, with children. They were in no way prostitutes or people who operated in "risky" behavior.

Ballistics showed the women were shot with an 1894 Marlin rifle.

The women's murder occurred in middle of the two-week stretch of The Phantom's last killing spree.

The bodies were found less than a mile from train tracks.

RachWhov: You were right. Everything adds up to Judy and Petra being victims of The Phantom. Why is this not out there anywhere? Couldn't that bring a huge break in the case?

grizzlymane415:

RachWhov: I get it, cops suck, but this isn't right. Have you told the police there?

I didn't get an answer. A week went by.

RachWhov: ???

Another week.

grizzlymane415: I THOUGHT YOU WERE CAPABLE OF NOT NEEDING HAND HOLDING ON THIS, BUT JUDY WAS THE WIFE OF THE POLICE CHIEF IN YUCAIPA. YOU THINK HE WAS VERY INTERESTED IN KEEPING THE DETAILS OF HIS WIFE GETTING MURDERED IN THE BACKSEAT OF A CAR, HALF NAKED WITH ANOTHER WOMAN IN THE PUBLIC EYE? YOU DO THE MATH.

Another curiosity. I couldn't find anywhere, or in anything my friend from Yucaipa sent me where it said Judy and Petra were "half naked" when they were shot. A self-taught expert on my murder myself, I knew this reeked of a detail cops would deliberately leave out of public record to filter out false confessions. Something only the actual killer would know about the murder.

My house grew cold in the middle of an 80-degree day even though I didn't have air conditioning. It's entirely possible grizzlymane415 was completely making this detail up, or it was something he had heard through word of mouth, but those goosebumps upon my arms also knew another thing most self-taught murder experts learn in their 101 class. Murderers love to brag about their work, even though they know it almost always leads to them being caught.

I went over to the front door of my house and checked the lock.

I cut off all communication with grizzlymane415. He probably wasn't really The Phantom, but at best, he was an asshole who was trying to get underneath my skin. I didn't need that. I already had three online dating profiles adept at connecting me with sociopathic beta males who get off on messing with your head.

I remained on the board. I couldn't pass the monotony of semi-employed life and single woman living in a town of just 16,000 without the comfort of faceless online companionship which revolves around the cold murders of human souls.

Things were fine for quite a while, probably a few weeks, before I received another message out of the blue from grizzlymane415.

grizzlymane415:

grizzlymane415: KNOW WHAT THAT IS?

I didn't have to even look it up. I just assumed it was an 1894 Marlin rifle.

He was probably some dumb fuck 15-year-old boy fucking with me who pulled the image off of Google or a gun message board or something, but I can't act like I wasn't totally scared shitless by the thing.

My response came in the form of deleting my account. It may have been the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, but it was all I could do to keep my sanity. It wasn't worth it. Sorry Reddit.

Tyler came back in the heat of summer. I flinched when I heard the familiar rumble of his old motorcycle pull into the gravel of my driveway. Tears welled into the corner of my eyes when I walked out onto my rickety porch to see him pulling his helmet off of his shaggy brown hair.

Tyler and I were engaged, technically maybe still engaged. We never officially broke it off.

We met just after college, when both of us were fighting off the adult world by being full-time snowboard bums in Tahoe. We moved in with each other in just a couple of months out of financial convenience, but somehow dated just casually for a few years before we turned up the heat.

Tyler finally proposed about a year before this. That's when things started to get weird between us. I don't think either of us could take the pressure. Engagement meant we were creeping towards adulthood – getting real jobs, paying taxes, moving off the mountain. We decided we would start working on getting "real jobs" in Reno - maybe even Sacramento. We got a rustic rental house in Truckee, California to stay in an earthy little town, but still get a little bit away from Tahoe and try to figure out our lives.

We were in no way ready and took it out on each other. I shocked myself when I discovered I was in no way interested in an office or professional job after a few interviews where I felt I wanted to rip the business casual outfit off of my body and run out into the snow to do what I truly wanted to do with life.

Even more shockingly, Tyler went in the other direction. A quick taste of an internship at a law firm stoked the fire of opportunity which apparently burned inside of him once you got past the haze of weed smoke, shaggy hair and dirty beard.

Tyler came home late from work one night, told me about his plan to move us to the Bay Area where he had a full-time job opportunity lined up and we slowly but surely slipped into a fight which led to him driving off on his motorcycle to go to "San Francisco."

It would be more than six months before he would come back.

I couldn't believe it was him when I saw Tyler walk up the porch, but he didn't let me get a word out before he grabbed me sternly on the back of the head and pulled me in for a kiss. We went inside the house without a word spoken and headed to the bedroom.

We would exchange a few words for the next hour or so, but it would be dark before we had a real conversation.

"How was San Francisco?" I broke the numbing sound of our breathing as we laid in bed.

Tyler just gave a dismissive laugh.

"Not good?"

"No. I was just only there for like three weeks, sleeping on Mike's couch. Couldn't get a job, couldn't afford to live there."

I could tell Tyler was embarrassed when he responded. He knew what question was coming next. He tried to distract me by grabbing the modest engagement ring he gave me months before out of the pocket of his jeans which were sprawled next to us on the bed. He slid the ring onto my ring finger.

"Did you go to your parents?"

"Yeah," Tyler almost whispered his answer before he kissed me behind my ear lobe.

I figured Tyler ran back to the comfort of his parents' five-bedroom house on the coast in Orange County once he said San Francisco didn't work out. I would have done the same, but swap out Orange for Marin.

"What...

Tyler pushed his index finger upon my lips.

"Let's not ruin the moment. Talk about that stuff now. We're just going to get into a fight about it."

"Okay," I agreed, upping the pitch on the second half of the phrase.

"How the fuck is it so hot in here?" Tyler broke the silence and jump up out of the bed naked.

Tyler shuffled over to the large bay window doors of the master bedroom of the house, unlatched them and pushed them out onto the little deck which housed a few pots filled with neglected plants about 10 feet up off of the ground below. I admired Tyler as he stood in the pale moonlight the open doorway let in, his back to me, his arms outstretched. I slipped the ring off of my finger and placed it in a little crystal bowl I kept by the side of my bed.

Tyler yawned when he turned back to me and crawled into bed. He pulled another item out of his jean pocket before I could ask another question.

"You still?" Tyler sheepishly offered up a pipe.

"Yeah, yeah," I took the pipe right after Tyler filled it.

I lied. I hadn't smoked since Tyler left. Too poor. Too depressed and honestly too lazy to go out and get weed myself.

I took a heavy, heavy hit and deflated back down onto the bed. It felt divine.

I watched Tyler take a stiff hit himself. Turned down his second offer.

The hit kicked the malaise and fatigue which was pumping through my veins into overdrive. It wasn't long before I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I could tell I was going to fall asleep before 10 and that was fine for me. I let it come, a cool, gentle breeze drifted through the open bay window doors and gave me a kiss goodnight.

I woke up with a calm in my blood I had not felt in quite some time. The comfort of no longer sleeping alone seemed to put my soul at ease. The fresh morning sun of Summer was shining bright through the open door, melting away the refreshing cold of morning. It was just about a damn perfect morning. The kind you would see in a commercial for coffee.

I yawned and looked over to Tyler asleep on his back next to me, the pipe comically rested on his shoulder like the parrot of a pirate. I moved a little bit closer to him but hoped to not wake him at the same time.

My attempt to keep Tyler awake didn't work. He weaved his hand into mine as soon as I slipped over to his side of the bed.

"What happened to the ring?" Tyler said with a froggy, morning throat.

"Oh, uh. I took it off. My fingers swell up in my sleep sometimes, so I don't sleep with rings on. But I can put it back on."

I stretched my body back over across my side of the bed and blindly dropped my hand down into the little bowl. The ring wasn't there. I furiously scanned my hand around the dish a number of times.

"What the hell?"

"What?"

"The ring is gone?"

"You sure you didn't just put it somewhere else?"

"Yes."

I got up out of bed and stood over my nightstand. The ring was not in the bowl or anywhere near it. I dropped hard down to the floor and combed the slick hardwood, looked underneath the bed and behind the nightstand. It was nowhere to be found.

Crawling on all fours, I turned my attention to the floor which led to the open deck door. Quickly stopped dead in my tracks.

Ever-so-faintly pressed into the dust of the floor were boot tracks – the tread of the boots looking like cookie cutter stamps of dog kibble upon the floor.

"Shit."

I traced the tracks to the open door of the deck.

"We didn't just lose a thousand dollars, did we?" Tyler asked from behind.

"That's the last thing I am worried about right now," I shot back. "I think someone came in here and took the ring last night."

It took Tyler a few seconds to reply, but when he did, his voice carried the tenor or building fright.

"Are you serious?"

I turned to see Tyler looking down at me.

"You're joking, right?" He added.

I looked down at the boot tracks one more time.

"Unless you walked around here with boots last night and lost the ring, I'm not."

My mind instantly went to grizzlymane415. I hadn't communicated with him for a while, but he was the last creepy thing taking up residence inside the dark recesses of my brain.

But how the hell could he have tracked me down?

I never shared any personal information with grizzlymane415. There was no information on my profile. I was unsearchable on Facebook and pretty much everything else and he didn't even have my real name. Even RachWhov didn't have a direct connection to me. Rach was short for my middle name and Whov was a play on my last name of Hoover, but the combination of those two would lead nowhere.

Oh shit. Nevermind.

The thought building in my brain shut down every single sense of my body for a moment.

Instagram. Fuck.

My username on the Instagram account I hadn't updated in nearly a year was RachWhov and it was a picture journal of my life for the past few years, including a fine documentation where I visually bragged about our killer little house in Truckee.

"You think someone climbed up onto our deck in the middle of the night, snuck in here, grabbed just the ring, nothing else, and left without us waking up?" Tyler asked from over by the deck.

"Uh huh. We, were, high."

"Well that's comforting," Tyler snipped before turning back around to me. "Who the hell could have done that?"

"No idea."

I lied. I was not yet ready to tell anyone else about my online life and I myself was far from convinced grizzlymane415 was the one who took the ring. It was a pretty outrageous thought that he found my Instagram and was able to find exactly where I lived and snuck into my bedroom and stole the ring.

I logged into my Reddit account to see if I had received any new messages from grizzlymane415.

grizzlymane415: WHERE DID YOU GO?

grizzlymane415: SORRY IF I WAS A DICK. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS SHIT?!?!?!?

What followed was a link to an article detailing a string of three murders which had taken place across the Southwest over the past couple of weeks – one in West Texas, one in New Mexico, one outside of Las Vegas. All three had the calling cards of The Phantom, including taking place in a two-week cluster. Worse yet, they occurred in the order which suggested The Phantom was moving in a Northwest pattern, right towards Northern California.

grizzlymane: HE'S BACK.............

I typed up: Where do you live?

Was about to hit Enter...

"Hey," Tyler's voice shot up from behind me in the living room.

I jumped up out of my seat, scrambled to close my browser.

"You looking at porn?" Tyler quipped from behind me.

"No."

Tyler let out a deep exhale.

"I found something weird in the mailbox."

Tyler pushed a bullet into my face. I don't think I had ever actually seen one in-person so it would have been a jarring vision even if he hadn't explained it was resting in our mailbox.

"It was just sitting in there. There weren't letters or anything else."

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What?"

"This just has me totally freaked out."

"Well let's go down and talk to the cops."

Tyler had a good idea for the first time in a really long time.

"I gotta take my motorcycle down to Devin's shop anyways."

He followed it up with a really bad one.

"Just take my car with me. We should go together."

"Devin just texted me. If I don't get it down there in like twenty minutes, I won't be able to get it looked at till Monday and I might need it this weekend. I'll just meet you at the station."

I didn't even want to know why Tyler might need his motorcycle for the weekend.

"Fine."

"Alright," Tyler grabbed his motorcycle helmet before he had even finished the word.

"Wait," I pleaded.

Tyler was already out the door.

"Motherfucker."

I could still see the dust lingering from the tires of Tyler's motorcyle when I walked out into our dirt driveway. I fought the urge to call him. He wouldn't answer anyway.

The morning glow which made the start of the day so glorious was long gone. A hazy sky of moist gray hung above, threatening rain and a cold wind whipped around the side of the house.

I jumped into my battered Ford Focus. Shook my head to myself about Tyler's ridiculous selfishness, wondered if I should just say fuck it and drive straight to my parents' house in Marin, but I couldn't do it. It was only about a 10 minute drive down the highway to the station and I was pretty sure the cops would be able to at least bring me some soul relief for a little while.

The road from our house to the main highway was probably the last road I wanted to be on at the moment. It was a glorified gravel road, lined with trees and tree-surrounded little shacks and shanties next to the river. Once upon the road, my eyes lingered on something sticking out of the tall grass next to the road - Tyler's motorcycle, propped up halfway between the road and the woods.

I took my foot off the gas, slowly pushed on the brake, felt the world outside my car window come back into regular speed.

Then I felt something hit my bumper.

What the?

I shot a hurried look into my rear-view mirror to see a black truck stuck onto the bumper of my car. The afternoon haze and the brevity of my glance didn't allow me to see the face of the driver behind the wheel, but I took in the outline of a dark hat and dark gloves draped upon the steering wheel.

Another thud hit hard upon my bumper, pushing me off to the side of the road. I tried to correct, but couldn't pull it off, my car went off the embankment of the country road and rumbled into the tall grass field which flanked it.

It now felt as if I was on some kind of rocky road amusement park type ride. My car bounced up and down, roughly and wildly, everything inside the cab, myself included, thrashed about violently. The seatbelt was the only thing saving me from smashing up against the windshield or the steering wheel.

I had much more sinister fears at the moment than smashing my head against the wheel and there was no way a seatbelt could save me from them. Another look out my rear view mirror while airborne allowed me to see more of the truck which had slammed into me from behind and I recognized it all too well. I knew nothing about trucks, but I could pick out a 1959 Chevrolet Apache in any lineup.

My car finally started to slow as I approached the line of trees which led into the woods. The entire world around me got darker when the front of my car smashed into the light shrubs at the edge of the tree line and started plowing over some of the younger trees. It came to a stop just under the cover of the tall firs.

I wasted no time in ripping off my seatbelt, going for the handle of my car door, but it wouldn't budge. The door appeared to be wedged up hard against the thick trunk of a tree.

I climbed over to the passenger-side door. My eyes threw a glance out the back window of my car and saw the black Apache parked on the side of the road.

"Ah, shit!" I screamed when the passenger-side door wouldn't open either.

I shot another look out of the back window – didn't see any movement, but heard the familiar sound of a truck door closing. I didn't wait to see if anyone was walking out of the truck, dove into the backseat and tried one of the back doors.

The highest I have ever felt in my entire life was when I felt that back door give and open out into the darkened forest. I piled out of it before I even got the thing all the way open.

I dragged my field of vision across the grass between the Apache and the back of my car when I climbed out of the car. The driver of the truck was out of his vehicle, his black cowboy hat obscured his pale face just enough to where I couldn't make it out. He took tall strides around the front of the truck in a long, black trench coat.

I wasted no more moments in observation, turned into the woods and fled, pissed at myself for leaving my cell phone in the center console. It didn't matter now, my only hope was running deeper into the woods, finding a house, the river or something, basically just losing the approaching stranger behind me.

For a second, I thought I heard the rumble of the river coming in front of me, but the sound quickly took a familiar form. It was Tyler's motorcycle. I slowed my sprint, shot a look over my shoulder. At the edge of the trees was Tyler on his motorcycle, he reared back on the cycle, tried to maneuver his way through the brush which served as the doormat for the thicker forest.

"Tyler," I screamed through the trees. "Call the cops. Call the cops."

But he couldn't hear me over the sound of his motorcycle. I came to a complete stop and watched him make his way into the forest where he would have a little bit more space to snake his motorcycle around trees. I tried to also look out behind him, where the truck was parked up near the roadway, but couldn't see that far.

Tyler put the motorcycle into a skid just before he reached me. He killed the engine and jumped off, was greeted by me screaming out at him over the sounds of his dying engine.

"Where is he?"

Tyler whipped around, looked back through the woods.

"The guy in the truck. He ran me off the road."

Tyler lifted up the belly of his shirt to show a horrible road rash sprayed across his stomach.

"I hid in the woods for a while. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer."

"He ran me off the road too," I screamed in Tyler's face. "Where is he?"

Tyler kept his eyes off through the woods.

"He peeled out and drove off when I got back on my motorcycle. He's gone."

I followed Tyler's eyes through the darkening woods and had to agree. There were no signs of the driver, or his truck.

The cops had a really tough time not just believing what I told them happened, but even understanding it. I had to pull up Reddit on one of the officer's computers to show them all what it was and how it worked.

Honestly, it seemed like they all thought we were concocting some kind of elaborate alibi to cover up a domestic squabble and/or drunk driving accident. They basically did the least amount of work they could to document it and stopped returning our calls after a couple of weeks. I told them all of the details about The Phantom of West Texas. They didn't care in the least. I may have well just said The Phantom of the Opera.

Making it a little harder to believe my story, I deleted my account and apparently so did grizzlymane415. There was no record of our conversations, all of our comments within the board said they were posted by [deleted].

I found the generic form email for the FBI and a couple of police departments in West Texas, but I never even heard back from them. Maybe the only people who still cared about The Phantom were me and my weirdo Internet friends. Maybe it was a sign that I should just forget about that kind of stuff. At least that was Tyler's opinion.

We left Truckee that day, took the important stuff out of our house and never came back. We moved to Marin County where Tyler was able to get an entry level job with my dad's company and I could find a real job in the office of the local hospital with some of the friends I grew up with.

Speaking of growing up, it was officially time to. I left the Internet serial killer groupie community behind me and focused on my job and trying to re-plan a real wedding with Tyler.

The months went by and I had almost completely forgotten about that old life and that horrible cloudy day, or at least I tried to, but I could not fully run away. My blood ran cold when I received a voicemail on my phone after getting a missed call from my former landlord, Dale, back in Truckee.

I initially thought the message would be a scolding for the state we left the house in or bailing on the last five months of our lease, but Dale actually seemed to have a softer tone than he usually used. He wanted to get in touch with me because someone had left what seemed like an important piece of mail for us in the mailbox. He just needed our new address so he could send it to us.

I chewed my nails down to the tender skin the next few days, feveriously anticipating receiving our unopened mail. Dale was polite in insisting he would absolutely not open our mail for us, even if we wanted him to (which I did).

I tore into the little forwarded envelope as fast as humanly possible when it showed up.

I recognized exactly what was in the envelope as soon as I opened it up. It was my engagement ring, the tiny little diamond perched upon the top of it glittering back at me.

A note fell out of the envelope.

It was just a cursive signature written in black ink.

It read: The Phantom.

Originally published by Thought Catalog on www.ThoughtCatalog.com.

0 notes