#mopin

[vamosgk]

🍓parte 1

👁️el limpiador de calzado

trae una punta con refuerzo

y sale barato…

✨rellenado con tinta ak47

rojo fresa de @akagraffiti

🔥

#hanem #bamos

#vamos #graffiti

#tag #squeezer

#lettering #letters

#mop #moping

#akagraffiti

#refill

#reels

#slowlife

✨

[oneefin]

no objections to gooseworx naming the protagonist of the amazing digital circus POMNI, but if it was PONMI instead it would:

contain four consecutive alphabet letters in reverse (five if you write the i as a capital letter and pretend it's a lowercase l)

consist of two concatenated music-related terms (PON, one of the drums from patapon, and MI, the third solfege note)

be homophonic with PAWN ME, which is somewhat appropriate - or if you say it differently, PWN ME, which is even better

work as a ligma ('pon me [sexual organ of your choosing]), especially if you mispronounce the MI as MY

rhyme with BAHN MI, which is just cute

[magicalshopping]

♡ Ghost In A Jar Pin by Mo Pins ♡

[albatris]

chhhhhrronic fattiggggueeeee

[catchitori]

“Stop mopin.”

God I love tma and uh daisy has my heart and this is the rough sketch for this animatic pls love me Ty

[coffincave]

i wonder how thick my hair would be if i didn’t mindlessly rip it out when i’m stressed

[crowsent]

so i went on an isekai binge a while back and now. now im thinkin of goin on a sports anime binge. startin w knb

[mlmxreader]

Insecurity | Billy Butcher x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ probably a lil ooc, but i was wondering where reader is insecure about their body and Billy makes them feel better and hes like idk rly soft? it doesnt have to be smut, but idm if it is, thats up to u.

if you dont want to write this then maybe number 9. "Getting into a fight because someone insulted them"

6. "I got you, you're okay"

1. "The first time you said you loved me - that was my best day" - @loganbcrnes ❞

: ̗̀➛ Billy immediately picks up on it when you're not feeling your best, and in his own way, he tries to make you feel better.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing (obvioisly), use of the word "fag" as a slang term, mentions of smoking, sex references, insecurity

↳ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Billy eyed you carefully from his place at the desk, hunched over slightly as he kept his dark brown eyes on you; hardly able to ignore the way you tried to make yourself blend into your surroundings, and how you always quickly looked away when you caught your reflection on your phone screen. He wasn't an idiot.

He knew what was going on, just as he knew why you had been distant from him lately, too. Usually, you would sit next to him with your feet on his thighs, relaxed and taking up as much space as possible. Not today.

No. Instead, you were trying to make yourself invisible, and he knew what was going on; but Billy was far from the most courteous of men, and when everyone else left the two of you behind, he cleared his throat, and dared to smile a little.

"Oi!" He practically shouted. "C'mere."

"Billy, don't," you sighed, shaking your head.

Billy clenched his jaw a little bit. "C'mere, please. I got a bone t'pick with you."

You rolled your eyes, all but marching over to him; your hands stuffed into the pockets of your oversized hoodie. Gaze on the ground. "What?"

"Y'know," he hummed, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk. "The day I saw you, that were the day I fuckin' well realised the moon ain't the most breathtakin' thing."

"Seriously?" You deadpanned.

"Yeah, seriously," he nodded. "Every fuckin' day I look at you, I don't fuckin' get it. How a cunt like me managed to pull someone as fit as you... bloody well beyond me."

You were about to move away, brush him off and ignore his words completely, when he gently coaxed you to stand between his legs; forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"Billy-"

"Shut up and listen, alright?" He huffed. "You can fuckin' sit in your corner fuckin' mopin' about like some crybaby cunt all you like - I don't give a toss. But if you asked me? I'd say you was fuckin' peng. And I'd mean it. I fuckin' well would."

"It's not my looks..." you muttered. "I really... Billy, I don't wanna talk about it, alright? There's people with nicer, better bodies than me and-"

"Yeah, but that's your body, innit?" Billy shrugged, almost grinning. "And 'cause it's your body, I happ'n to think it's better than any other cunt's body."

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. "You're only saying that-"

"'Cause what?" He quirked a brow. "There ain't no one here but you an' me, so it ain't like I'm tryin' to fuckin' play with you. It's just us, and I'm sat here, tellin' you: I like your body."

"Billy-"

He tapped your thigh gently. "I like how these rest on me lap when you sit next to me on the sofa."

You rolled your eyes.

He gently tapped your stomach. "I like how soft this is, and how I gets to put me hand on it when we sleep."

You glared at him.

Softly, he tapped your chest. "I like how this presses up against me back in the mornin' when you sneak out for your mornin' fag an' come back."

"How'd you-"

He gently traced his fingers from your shoulders to your elbows. "I like how these feel around me when we're snuggled up watchin' shit horror films."

He grabbed your wrists, grinning. "And most of all, I fuckin' love how these feel wrapped around-"

"You're disgusting!" You laughed, snatching your hands back and fondly shaking your head. "Vile!"

"There's that award winnin' smile," he grinned, letting you go. "Y'know, you don't need the fuckin' perfect body. The one you got is the one that's alright."

"Thanks..." you mumbled, daring to gently pat his cheek. "I know you're trying..."

"I got you," Billy said, as softly as he could allow himself to. "I got you, you're okay. I ain't goin' nowhere yet... unless you and M.M's gonna watch that shit again, that fuckin', what is it? Downton? You watch that and I'm buggerin' off down pub."

You nodded, taking in a deep breath as you smiled. "You are the loveliest bastard I've never met, you know that, don't you?"

He shrugged, sitting back down and putting his feet on the desk again; his hands folded in his lap as he grinned at you. "Yeah, but you fuckin' love me."

"Unfortunately," you hummed, sitting on his desk with your arms folded. "Y'know... some days... just some, I think about what my best day was, and I know."

"Hmm?"

"The first time you said you loved me - that was my best day," you said quietly, picking at the loose skin at the side of your thumb nail.

Billy took a moment, observing you carefully. "Pretty sure that was my best fuckin' day, in all. Can't lie... but, say - why don't me an' you grab a quick Chinese? The others ain't gonna be back for yonks, so we can sit down, have a nice Chinese, and watch that fuckin' Take Me Out bollocks you like, eh?"

You grinned as you nodded, clearing your throat. "That's the best idea you've had in a while, y'know... d'you reckon we could order in?"

"Don't see why not," Billy admitted. "Ain't like Homelander's gonna disguise himself as a lowly fuckin' delivery bloke now, issit?"

"True," you agreed with a slow nod.

"G'on," he told you quietly, gesturing with a quick nod. "Go grab the leaflet, we'll see what's good - and it's whatever you want in all. Starters, puddin', whole lot - anythin' you want, order it."

"Alright, Sir," you teased. "No need to bark orders at me."

"Can do a lot more than that," Billy smiled, raising his brows. "All you gotta do is fuckin' ask."

You hopped off of his desk, feeling your stomach rumble loudly. "I might take you up on that later, but... Bill?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks," you told him quietly. "I, erm... I needed all that, and I appreciate it."

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

thank you so much for reading, but if I may have your attention for a brief moment: Fadi needs help to evacuate himself & his family from Gaza as urgently as possible. if you DO have the means to, then please, consider even giving just £1, it would make all the difference to a family in dire circumstances.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was reorganizing the gear in his pack when he heard you come in. "Y/N?" he called out.

The response was your approaching soft foot steps and then you appeared in the doorway. He looked up, expecting you to give him the same smile you always did, but instead you crossed the room toward him and flopped face down on the bed with a huff.

His brow furrowed. "Uh oh... well, this ain't good." He set his pack down on the floor and sank down beside you. "What's the matter? I gotta kill somebody?" he asked.

You sighed and lifted your head to look over at him. "It's not even noon and I'm already completely over this day."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully, taking in the pout on your lips. "S'goin' on?"

You rubbed a hand over your face. "Bugs."

"Bugs?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Bugs," you said again, pushing yourself up on the palm of your hand. "Well—bugs and slugs, which are technically a mollusk."

"Uhh... the garden?" he guessed.

"Yes," you said, dramatically throwing yourself down on the bed again. "The slugs are going after my squash plants and all the greens have leaf miners."

"Hey—you'll figure out how to get rid of 'em! You've got that green thumb of yours," Daryl said reassuringly.

You let out a groan into the mattress which brought a gruff laugh out of him. "C'mon... it ain't so bad," he said, starting to scoop you up so he could see your face again. "I dun gotta kill anybody," he said. "Thought I was gonna have to with the way ya came mopin' in here."

"No, you don't have to kill anybody. I have to figure out how to kill thousands of tiny little demon bugs."

Daryl laughed again and it lightened your mood instantly. "S'gonna be fine," he soothed you, still smiling.

"Easy for you to say!"

"Yeah. It is. But s'also true." He buried his face against the crook of your neck and pressed his lips to the soft spot below your ear. You bit your bottom lip and leaned into him.

"Mmm," you hummed. "I'm starting to believe you..."

Daryl smiled against your skin. "Just startin'?"

"Yep. You better keep going..."

"Remember, you asked for it." Prompt: "It's not even noon and I'm already completely over this day."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I remember you wrote a thing where Crowley interviews Fellow for a teaching job, can we get a continuation of that? idk where Gidel would fit so yeah sorry

[Referencing this interaction!]

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Every morning was a new opportunity presenting itself in a gift-wrapped box. This morning was, perhaps, the grandest opportunity, the greatest gift, of them all.

From the moment Fellow had woken up, he had been a flurry of movement, almost as fast as the words he often spewed. Buttering toast for two (a luxury for them), packing a small bag of pencils (each of varying length), untangling the knots in Gidel's hair, tying the boy's shoelaces for him. He had also been up late redoing the stitching on his suit, ironing the wrinkles out, and searching for a matching pair of socks for Gidel. The first rule of making a good impression: dress to impress.

Even when they were out the door and rushing to the main school building, Fellow fretted. He smoothed out his shirt, redid his cravat over and over, wiped his glasses more times than he could count. (In fairness, that number still wasn't very high, but it was the sentiment that mattered.)

The imminent shadow of Night Raven College loomed, making him feel small and powerless. Here, dreams were made—and crushed.

Like his had been, once upon a time.

His mind blanked. It had run off and hid, shivering in a dark recess somewhere, wedged between doubt and despair.

He was brought back to earth by a warmth and pressure at his arm. Fellow glance down to find Gidel grasping him and offering an encouraging grin. His jacket and vest were oversized, and his tie sloppy, but he glowed with excitement.

“… You’re right, Giddie. What am I mopin’ around for? It’ll do me no good.” Fellow sighed, banishing his bad thoughts in that breath. “We should be celebrating! Today’s a big day for us. Our new beginning.”

Together, they took the brave first step into the foyer. Down the hallway and to the right, their first stop.

Again, his heart raced. Anxiety and fear surging, despite his efforts to keep them at bay.

Smile at the face of danger. Get tough when the going gets rough. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, he coaxed himself. You can do this. Show those snooty little rich kids what you’re capable of!

“Let’s go…!” Fellow bellowed, seizing Gidel by the shoulders. It’s SHOWTIME!”

They barged in, the door opening with such force that it slammed against the wall. Students startled in their seats.

“M-Myah?!” Grim snapped awake from his nap. “What’s happenin’, am I still asleep or what?!”

Beside him, the Ramshackle Prefect perked up. They waved at Fellow and Gidel, as if they had been expecting them all along, Of course—they had been the one to pass along a strong recommendation to the headmaster.

“Mornin’, teach! Mornin’, new classmate!” they chirped.

Ace groaned, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. This is the guy they hired for the new Life Skills course?”

"H-Hey, don't be rude to the new professor!" Deuce hissed at his dorm mate. “Show some respect!”

Show some respect.

Respect! That’s right, he deserved it. He was among them now—amid the elites, instructing them.

Fellow straightened, marching right up to the podium at the front of the classroom. (Gidel followed him, only to be shooed off and whispered a reminder that he belonged in a desk. He scurried to a free spot in the corner, planting his supplies down.)

“Students!” Fellow announced, rapping his fox-tipped cane on the podium. His voice, loud and proud. “Your attention please!

“Welcome to Life Skills. As the name suggests, this class will focus on practical skills that’ll serve you well in life. I’ll be your instructor. The name’s Fellow, Fellow Honest—but please, please, call me by my first name!”

Deuce’s hand instantly shot up. “S-Sir, isn’t that kind of familiarity improper?!”

“In my classroom, everyone’s an equal. Myself included,” Fellow laughed, tipping his top hat at his bewildered audience. “Let’s have fun together, shall we?”

“Wow,” Deuce murmured raptly, seriously impressed. “The new professor’s so chill.”

Gidel and Yuu clapped excitedly for him. Ace rolled his eyes.

“This is gonna be a long semester.”

[vamosgk]

🧙🏻‍♂️Vamos a sacar

un naranja 🎃

@brzbrand

☝🏻🟡+🤏🏻🔴=🟠

#hanem #vamos

#bamos #graffiti

#brzbrand

#bitroyalz

#handmixed

#mixingcolors

#refill #recarga

#canfor #mop

#mopping

#naranja #orange

#red #rojo

#yellow #amarillo

#halloween

#halloween2024

🦇

[ultralightpoe]

Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

-

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well. 

‘No use crying over spilt milk’. 

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant. 

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve. 

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure. 

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you. 

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion. 

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief. 

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh. 

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much. 

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind. 

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.” 

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

-

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

-

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler. 

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since. 

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time. 

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues. 

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.” 

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?” 

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road. 

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.” 

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both. 

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry. 

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!” 

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!” 

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

-

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

-

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place.  Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’. 

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over. 

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?” 

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.” 

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.”  It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.” 

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt.�� A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles. 

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey. 

“Then can I say both?” 

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit. 

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.” 

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes. 

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger. 

-

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night. 

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business. 

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you. 

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do.  You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him. 

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?” 

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours. 

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door. 

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off. 

“So you live in a motel?” 

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top. 

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?” 

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile. 

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.” 

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger. 

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss. 

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.” 

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre. 

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove. 

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him. 

-

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

-

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect. 

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment. 

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact. 

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up. 

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra. 

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him. 

-

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

-

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief. 

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact. 

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body. 

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body. 

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans. 

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out. 

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him. 

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you. 

-

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

-

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you. 

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him. 

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.” 

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down. 

-

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless. 

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements. 

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease. 

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes. 

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside. 

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you. 

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you. 

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up. 

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor. 

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him. 

-

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

-

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. 

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel. 

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more. 

-

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

-

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on. 

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.” 

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

-

[magicalshopping]

♡ Halloween Spiders Enamel Pin by Mo Pins ♡

[somewhereincairparavel]

hiii, can you pleasee do a rivals to lovers jason grace x daughter of thanatos 😫😫😫😫😫

ghost girl x golden boy!

warnings: slightly ooc platonic nico, the reader has no social skills and kinda fumbles but it works out rlly well in the end <3 I enjoyed writing this a lot more than necessary lol

jason grace x daughter of thanatos!

you and jason always butt heads. it was no secret, everyone knew. the feelings of rivalry and hostility initially only came from your side. As the daughter of thanatos, you naturally pulled away from sunshine-y personalities. You convinced yourself that it was because you hated seeing people so cheery and annoyingly bright. But, it was because you were convinced that if anyone even remotely bubbly stood next to you, they would lose their light. but that was only part the reason, the other half was simply because you enjoyed seeing the sunshine-y jason get riled up only because of you.

You'll admit that you had a slightly sadistic pleasure in seeing that boy angry.being cold rivals with jason was rare, jason never actually disliked anyone from camp.

Hell, he didn't even ‘hate’ octavian, he just avoided him because they wouldn't get along but never actually cared much about fighting with him, since octavian was a lost cause. so the fact that you were one of the unusual ones to be able to get on his generally calm nerves really intrigued people. Heck. It even intrigued jason sometimes. Well, that was when he actually tried being nice to you, after your regular episodes of horrendous uncalled for attitude towards him, the mere mention of your name would have his icy blue ices hardening.

In the initial time he tried being nice to you, hoping that he could form a friendship with you like he did nico, you would harshly push him away, glare at him for no reason, and comment on his insecurities as insults, hoping that it would drive him away from you. Nothing worked apart from the insecurity jab that got so far one day that it was successful enough to hurt him after the constant insults getting hurled his way. One has their limits. Even nico wasn't as mean to jason initially as you were, so jason begun to genuinely dislike you, which was well deserved on your part, in your opinion.

Now during camp meetings, you two would always argue over the silliest things, like cabin renovations. You would start the fight, obviously. Jason tried to avoid you, like he did with octavian, but he couldn't, since you always ignited the disputes. So he chose to get into spats with you. And only then, did you realize that you were mistaken about jason being ‘sunshine-y’. He was actually quite sarcastic and sharp tongued when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, you were quite taken aback by the blunt and annoyingly witty responses you got whenever you argued. alright fine. you were starting to find this newfound trait of his, insanely attractive. which was secretly the reason why you chose to pick fights with him almost every day. you wanted to see that side of him more.

You were training when you saw the blonde boy at a distance, in the nymph gardens.. laughing… with a girl?... oh.As the golden boy of both the camps, it wasn't uncommon for him to be asked out by people left and right. he would politely decline all of them with a sympathetic smile. But you never actually saw him being all over-cheery with one of them, which was probably why you never bothered being envious, until now. It did NOT help that the girl was so ethereal.

“seriously y/n? you were being mean to him because you found him hot when he's mad? you're hopeless.” nico rolled his eyes as he painted his nails in a depressing shade of dark gray. “you don't get it Di Angelo. we'd never be a thing, I swear he doesn't even want to look at my direction.”“yeah, and I wonder who's fault is that. Yknow you could've at least let him befriend you when you had the chance. That boy tried HARD for months. you could've taken it slowly and somehow you wouldn't be here, moping like this” nico grumbled.It was understandable why nico was annoyed. One, because you were, indeed stupid, and two, jason is one of his closest friends, so you being rude to jason all these months kinda bothered nico more than he let on.

“Look. I'm the kid of the god of darkness. I'm basically a walking grim reaper, I'd have had no chance with Mr golden boy, who has such a high reputation with gorgeous people lining up for him to date. So it's not like I'd have stood a chance even if I'm on talking terms with him” you said miserably, realizing how stupid you sounded. nico was right. you screwed things over with jason because of self hatred and doubt, and now the realization only hit after you saw him being with other people. mission failed successfully.

“woah okay. you sound just like me when I used to talk about will. I know I'm like.. the last person who should talk about self love and acceptance. But, we were wrong about ourselves, y/n. us being the kids of darkness doesn't mean we're not worthy of love. I was the one who asked will out, not thinking he'd accept, but look how that turned out. Our biggest sabotagers are ourselves.”

“you recycled will's sappy poetry lines to come up with this one, didn't you?” you expected nico to look offended, but he smiled slyly.

“yep. and it works like a charm, everytime.” He replied, before his face contorted to disgust. “but ew, I don't know how Apollo kids do it, I had to sacrifice my dignity and ‘mysterious’ reputation to give you sappy self help encouragement that I am equally bad at myself. Don't make me do it again. ever. and not a word to will” he said, shooting you a death glare.

This had you genuinely break down laughing.

Here you were, in your depressing cabin. so, because of nico’s erm.. insightful advice. you plucked up the courage to go to jason’s cabin. it was empty, so you grumpily chose to leave, that is, until something caught your eye.his glasses were on his bedside table. Typical jason. Too busy to even notice that he forgot his glasses before running off for camp duties.without even thinking, you picked them up, and dashed to your room before his admirers came into his cabin to leave him love letters or something like that, which happens on a daily basis.Soon enough. You heard aggressive knocking on your cabins door.

You opened up, only to see the son of jupiter glaring back at you icily. He thrust his palm out and said angrily, “hand them over.” “Hand what over?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“You know what.” He shot back coldly You took the glasses out of your pocket.

“Looking for this?” Jason stared back at you with a stoney expression. Which, you admittedly found more cute than scary, because you were used to seeing it all the time.“okay look.. I'll give it back to you… if you listen to what I have to say first..” you begun slowly. It was either now or never. I mean, what's the worst that could happen right? gods of olympus, nico's sappy advice transmitted through will to you was really starting to have an effect.

jason’s expression was now filled with a mix of confusion, confliction and irritation, before he curtly replied. “just get it over with. my head aches, from both talking to you, and not wearing my glasses.”

He raises his eyebrows as you gazed into his icy, calculating eyes, eyes that would mirror the beauty of the morning sky around other people, but would go back to being cool around you.

“I am sorry. for everything. for being mean to you when you never even deserved it. for pushing away your advances when you tried forming a connection with me, and just ruining your already stressful days by arguing with you. I-” you stopped for a few seconds trying to collect your thoughts, so you formulate your words correctly so you don't fumble before you said the next few words.

You took a peak at jason's expression, and his previously icy expression starting melting into shock.“I only did all that because I didn't know any other way to hold a proper conversation with you. Irritating people is the only time where I don't turn into a nervous, bumbling mess of a person. It's the only time where I sound cocky and confident, even though I'm just a pool of darkness and grim energy that nobody wants to be around with. I guess what I'm trying to say in this roundabout way is that I like you, Grace.”

Your face turned bright red before you even bothered gauging his reaction, so out of instinct, you thrust the glasses into his still open palm, and half slammed the door in his face out of embarrassment. But jason held the door with his hands before they could fully close.

He stepped inside.

shit.

You turned around abruptly, ready to shadow travel yourself out of this mess, but jason caught your arm, turning you around and gently tugging on your hand to prevent you from going anywhere.

“look at me.” he said you shook your head stubbornly while keeping your eyes shut.

“fine.”

A few seconds later, you felt his lips on your nose, and eye lids.That shocked you enough to get you to open your eyes. you found him slightly grinning at you.

“what-”

“Y'know, if you wanted to go on a date with me so bad, you could've just told me, instead of being such a headache all these months, we would've been a couple a long time ago” he said, still smiling amusedly at your expression.

“you like me too?” you asked, unable to comprehend the abrupt change of atmosphere or the smile he was directing at you.

“um.. yes? why else do you think I wanted to get to know you so bad a few months earlier? It was you who chose to give me the attitude and attempt to drive me away, making me return the sentiment.”

“But how could you like.. me? when you have so many pretty and kind people lined up to date you, like the brunette you were laughing with in the garden, was that a demeter kid, by the way?”

jason stared at you for a few seconds before chuckling. You literally never heard him laugh like that in front on you.“oh her? she's one of thalia’s acquaintances from camp, she told me that thalia's birthday was coming up soon and gave me ideas on what I should give her, she didn't confess to me, y/n..”

oh.

“and even if anyone did ever confess, i would've turned them down. because, you're the only person I enjoy arguing and debating with. whether you realized it or not, the only reason I even bothered spending hours reciprocating your silly fights, was because I knew that's the only way you would talk to me somehow. so, we're even after all, ghost girl” he said smiling slyly, before he pulled you in for a long kiss, your hands on his face and all.

that's how Nico Di Angelo, the most unlikely person to ever give love advice, actually ended up being your final nudge. dam him and will's sappy poetry.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hurt/comfort with mullet!Stan

You’re leaning into him, practically melting in the warmth of his arms, but the weight on your heart isn’t lifting. Stan shifts beside you, so undeniably present, like he’s willing to be your anchor, even if he doesn’t know how to say it. The old couch creaks under you both, the whole shack silent except for the soft crackling of the cigarette you share between fingers, trading embers and breaths.

Stan’s brow furrows as he takes a slow drag, glancing over at you. You know his eyes are watching, obviously he’s studying you.

Finally, he shifts and says bluntly, “you’re wound up tighter than a cheap watch, ya know? somethin’ gnawin’ at you, huh?”

You exhale, watching the thin line of smoke spiral up. “Yeah. . . you could say that.” the ache in your chest tightens. Everything you’re carrying feels so complicated, like tangled threads you can’t even begin to sort through.

Stan just watches you, thinking, then he takes another drag and hands the cigarette back to you, nodding toward it. “Ain’t gonna solve a damn thing if you’re just gonna sit there and look miserable, sweetheart. Might as well get it off your chest.”

You manage a small laugh, bitterness slipping into the sound. “It’s. . . it’s just a lot, Stan. I don’t know where to start.”

Stan pulls you closer, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Look, I ain’t no therapist, but sittin’ here mopin’ like a lost puppy ain’t gonna do jack. Spill it. Even if I’m a crap listener, you’re gettin’ it out, yeah?”

You look at him, into his dark brown eyes and find nothing, but pure worry here, even if his rough voice doesn’t match his care, somehow that’s still exactly what you need. A presence, even if he’s not exactly gentle about it. It’s the only kind of reassurance he knows how to give.

“I just. . . keep feeling like nothing I do is ever enough. No matter how hard I try, everything just feels like it’s slipping out of my control,” you confess, voice a little shaky.

Stan’s thumb brushes along your shoulder as he pulls you in tighter. His voice, when he speaks, is softer but laced with his usual rough honesty. “Well, first off, quit thinkin’ you gotta have it all together. Life ain’t a freakin’ checklist. You’re allowed to screw up, you’re allowed to be a mess. Hell, look at me, if I can keep goin’ after all the crap I’ve pulled, you’re more than allowed to trip over your own feet once in a while.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and it feels like a promise. He may not have all the answers, but he’s here and that matters.

Your voice is small when you say, “but I don’t wanna screw up, I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

Stan grunts, his tone turning a little sharper. “Listen, you’re human. People who care about you ain’t gonna ditch ya just ‘cause you’re strugglin’. And if they do, fuck ‘em. They’re the ones missin’ out on the best damn person I know. Hell, you’re more than enough just as you are.”

A warmth blossoms in your chest, breaking through the ache, his words unexpectedly softening the edges of your pain. You look at him, really look, and see the sincerity buried beneath that gruff exterior.

His hand comes up to brush along your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. “You got a good heart, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell ya otherwise. If you keep beatin’ yourself up for not bein’ perfect, you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the two of you and the soft glow of his affection wraps around you like a blanket. You lean in, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his steady heartbeat against you. Stanley sighs, letting his hand drift down your back in slow, comforting strokes.

You’re quiet, breathing him in, the warmth of his skin, the smoky scent of his clothes. And then, in a low murmur, he adds, “You think life’s about havin’ it all figured out? Pfft. Life’s about fallin’ on your ass, pickin’ yourself up, and keepin’ goin’ ‘cause that’s what makes you strong. The way I see it? You’ve already got that part down.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the sound a bit wet with unshed tears. “You make it sound so. . . simple.”

Stan chuckles. “Ain’t sayin’ it’s easy, kid. Just sayin’ you’re tougher than you think. And if ya ever forget that, I’ll be right here to remind ya.”

Stanley leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his hand cradling the back of your head. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment, his roughness somehow grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You’re somethin’ special, don’t let anyone, including yourself, make ya think otherwise.”

and then Stan grins, tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. “And if anyone’s got a problem with that, they can answer to me.”

[slashers-and-rats]

Another Texan Night

thomas hewitt x fem!reader | sfw | no dreams this time, baby

rat chat: i saw a lot of people wanted me to give thomas a break, and they were right. he deserves some good stuff. so here it is. grade a fluff for my big boy.

the world was in thomas’s hands. it weighed heavy on his palms; he nearly had to cup them to keep it from all slipping away. he couldn’t let it get away from him this time. he saw the earth, mother nature, the sway of the trees and the rolling of waves all bundled in his arms. he wouldn’t let it get away, not this time.

you’d never leave him again.

your heart beat created a steady rhythm against his own chest. he wondered if, with enough determination, he could align both of your pulses. he’d stop his heart for you. he’d pinch his veins until they were flowing at the same speed yours did. anything to be closer to you, to be connected to you as deeply as he possibly could.

this was all so overwhelming for him. he had to keep remembering to breathe. thomas wasn’t supposed to be out right now, and this time it wasn’t a dream. he couldn’t just shake off the guilt of wanting to leave, this time it was real.

it was technically hoyt’s idea to get him out of the house. the plan had been somewhat sloppily put together. he remembered when it had first been pitched to him.

hoyt had been spying on thomas as he laboured in the basement. he had noticed his nephew under the weather, but the guy didn’t speak much, what could he really do? he had tried to cheer him up, in his own way. he complimented thomas for his quick work of taking down “prey”, and slid thomas a chocolate bar he had smuggled from the gas station when luda mae wasn’t looking. he even offered thomas a beer, chuckling when he groaned in rejection, shaking his head dramatically. his nephew could be such a prude.

hoyt watched thomas closely, seeing him slam the butcher’s knife down with uneven rhythm. it was almost uncomfortable how out of it the man was. thomas wasn’t an energetic boy, he didn’t exactly burst with enthusiasm, but he was always good with his hands. he was coordinated in his practice, and didn’t like to mess up when handling their hunts. after all, if the meat was bad, what would luda mae use to make her best stews and steaks?

it was when tommy slammed the knife down one last time, wedging it deep into the wood of the table, that hoyt really jumped. the guy was scary at the end of the day. hoyt might’ve been tough, but his nephew was strong. there was a big difference, and it showed in the way the surface of the cutting board snapped under the weight of his blade.

thomas had huffed, sounding like a frustrated animal. he paced the room, never noticing his uncle looming in the shadows. if he had, he wouldn’t have tugged your photo out of its hiding place. it had been something private to him. he kept it tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt, close to his heart, along with the phone number and address you had given him long ago when he had lost you. every day he wished he could find you again, that he had the bravery to sneak away and visit you like he wanted to, like he dreamed of.

the paper was worn from his fingers rubbing over it, and your picture was kept as pristine as possible. it was one he had stolen from the slaughterhouse. there had been a wall in the break room of photos of workers, headshots and such, and he had snatched yours away. he liked the way you smiled. it made his head feel light.

he was staring at it for quite awhile, too long for hoyt’s liking, and the man finally walked up and slapped a hand down on his nephew’s shoulder. tommy nearly jumped out of his boots, spinning around and hiding his treasures tight to his chest.

“a girl, huh? that’s what you’ve been mopin’ about?” hoyt questioned, sounding somewhat unimpressed. of all the things for someone like thomas to be worried about, some woman was one of them. it didn’t make sense to him, but there was something about how in despair his nephew looked- “you know where she lives?”

that had been the start to this whole endeavour. it took a few nights for it to all get planned out. thomas would meet with his uncle in the dining room, and hoyt would map out their plan of escape. it was simple. they’d arrange a rendezvous, and sneak out into the night when no one was awake to even see them gone. hoyt had called ahead of time, trying his best to sound proper and respectable when he explained the situation.

thomas had been so nervous then. he had sat, wringing out his fingers and squeezing the end of his shirt in his hands. hoyt had taken the landline and pulled it as far away from his sister’s room as possible, just to make sure she wouldn’t hear. hoyt may have been her brother, but that woman was terrifying, and her house was run by her rules. tommy wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with strangers, especially women, and something about this whole thing made the stakes feel high. they were playing a dangerous game. but they were both determined, albeit for different reasons. hoyt needed his nephew’s head back down to earth, and tommy… well, you could say tommy wanted the same. after all, you were his world. he wanted you back near him so badly.

when you had answered the phone, hoyt had flashed a thumbs up to tommy. it made the man jump a little, he could barely contain his excitement. there was also an advancing sense of anxiety. what if you didn’t remember him? what if you didn’t like him like he thought you did? what if-

“hey, uh, I’m just callin’ on behalf of a guy named thomas hewitt. you don’t happen to remember that name, do ya?” hoyt had paused, and it made thomas hold his breath. when his uncle smiled, a wave of relief washed over him. he gave his nephew a wink, and continued. “oh, good, good. well, you know him, ain’t much of a talker, so he got me to be the messenger. actually, he wanted to ask you somethin’. i know it’s a little late in the night, but he was wonderin’ if you’d wanna see him? he don’t usually got days off, poor guys workin’ himself to the bone, but he had some time and-“ hoyt was cut off, and thomas could hear your muffled babbling on the other end of the phone. he hadn’t even noticed he had been sweating until a bead ran down and landed on his hands. “not tonight, eh? yeah, it’s a bit short notice- what about tomorrow than? how’s that work?” hoyt listened carefully, before giving thomas another reassuring smirk. he nodded along to whatever you were saying, before finally replying with a sense of finality. “perfect! he’ll be there this time tomorrow. see you then. okay, bye bye.”

hoyt hung up, and let out a harsh huff after. thomas felt like he had just been given wings. his heart was pounding hard in his chest, threatening to rip out and do a little irish jig on the floor. he felt like had just been handed his own personally tailored miracle. it was hard to even fathom. he was pulled back down to earth when hoyt had said, “don’t say i don’t do nothin’ for you.”

with that, the pieces had fallen into place with ease. the next day, after waiting an hour to make sure luda mae was dead asleep, tommy and hoyt piled into the truck and made their way to your home. they weaved down the dirt trails slowly and quietly, keeping the headlights off just in case, and the second they were far enough away hoyt began pumping gas. this couldn’t be a long trip, they didn’t have much time. tommy’s mama was an early riser, and if she noticed her boy wasn’t there, there would be hell to pay. no, they had to be quick, methodical.

hoyt pulled up a block away from your place. the two had agreed it was better to make it seem like thomas had come alone. after all, two brooding men showing up on your doorstep in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the best start to a romance.

hoyt had turned to thomas, eyeing him over and trying to tidy him up the best he could. “you look like a mess, but there ain’t much you can do about it…” he had muttered, tussling up his nephew’s hair. he straightened out tommy’s shirt collar, brushed off any flecks of dirt that may have gathered.

tommy had chosen a special outfit. luda mae had shown him old romance movies when he was younger, and he had learned that a well-dressed man could get any woman. he wanted you, though, and so he had made sure he was wearing something he thought you’d like. his button-up was a bit tight, and his pants rested just underneath his tummy, and his shoes still had some blood on them from his work- but he had tried. he had tried so hard.

he had hopped out of the truck into the open night air, breathing it in deep. it ran through his lungs, and with it a feeling he had never experienced before. sure, he had been nervous before- nervous when he was younger and would see his bullies running his way, nervous when he worked at the factory and would see the other workers eyeing him up like a freak-show display- but this was so much different. the closer he walked to your house, the more it wrapped around his throat and made him lose all air. he felt almost small, vulnerable, things he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

he counted the houses carefully, repeating your address over and over in his mind until he spotted the numbers over the door of a quaint cottage-style home. it was small, you had clearly been affected just as his family had by the depression that swept through the town, but it seemed you weren’t doing too bad. he could see the light on in the living room, and your shadow dancing along the curtains as you went about your nightly routine. he walked up slow, prolonging this meeting he had waited so long for. he wished he was back in his dreams, maybe he’d have more confidence if he knew he could just wake up from this if it went poorly.

thomas stood in front of your door for a few minutes before he dared knock. he listened with bated breath as you walked over, and unlocked the door. when it opened, and he saw you… well, he just about fainted.

you had been wearing a soft night gown. it was nothing scandalous, it went down just above your knees, but the way it hugged your body… you looked so soft. you had a house coat on as well, wrapped around your arms and crossed over your stomach. you had it hugged close to you when you answered, and he watched it fall away in slow motion when you opened your arms and pulled him in for an embrace. he had managed to catch the way it fell off your shoulders, and revealed a wide expanse of skin that started at your neck and ran down to the tops of your chest. the spaghetti straps of the gown were loose, letting the front of your shirt hang low over your front. he traced over every detail of your skin, right up until you had pulled him down into a tight hug.

that’s where he was. he remembered now. you were hugging him, and he was squeezing you back just as tight. the gesture had been so sudden, it made him feel as if he had been shot. it knocked the wind out of him, and he wondered if he had made any sound. he couldn’t remember, as all he could think about was how close you were to him.

you felt right in his arms. there was something so good about having you close, and sharing in that sweet body heat that radiated off of your skin. you had always been so warm, inside and out. he wished he could never let go.

“i missed you.” the words were spoken soft into his shoulder. they planted themselves deep into his rib cage, right next to his heart. they seared into his skin.

you pulled away from the hug, but didn’t go far. if tommy was fully coherent, and not in some love filled haze, he would’ve noticed that he had been gripping your hips, keeping you from leaving him fully. it was so instinctual for him. you never brought it up either.

“i was worried i wouldn’t see you again. you never rang me, and i realized… well, you didn’t talk at the slaughterhouse, why would it change over the phone?” you smiled. it was a genuine smile, and he matched it under the mask. he wanted to run his fingers over your lips and trace out every pull of muscle. “that guy who called me seems pretty nice, by the way. you’ll have to thank him for bringing you back to me,” you added, giggling a little.

that sound felt like someone blowing bubbles against tommy’s face. it felt so light. if he could find the words, he would’ve told you he loved you the second he heard it. it would’ve been sudden and out of place, and he would’ve been embarrassed the second he realized what he said, but he would’ve. he wouldn’t have been over-exaggerating either.

“it’s late, and i can’t hang out with you for long but… why don’t you come in? i put tea on, and i got some treats put away for special occasions. i think this justifies taking them out. i got my big guy back.”

“your big guy”. thomas nearly crumbled. he nodded enthusiastically, and let his hands drop down to fiddle with the front of his shirt. you took one of them in yours. his was so much bigger. you weren’t a small girl, you were plump and soft and carried yourself well, but he still lumbered over you. thomas was just big. he was a big guy. your big guy. oh, that would never get old, he just knew it.

you lead him into the house, and he felt as though he was stepping into the gates of heaven.

to say you were his world was underselling it. you weren’t that.

you were his paradise.