#overstock questions

[virgothozul]

Hello ! Sharing this again, you can find a ton of my CJ arts on the shop. (open til ~dec22)

Note that several are for pre-order as I have super uneven stock after last convention (but considering this, I made it so you can choose how big or small the prints will be, prices start at 2€ - around 2.2 usd)

I’ve also a few slots for sketch commissions if anyone’s interested :)

It's been a while and it's here again ! My little shop. There's a whole bunch of caejose to choose from.

If a piece you like; if something you want is missing from the shop, honestly, let me know and I'll add it for you ! I'm doing pre-orders at the moment so there really isn't anything off the table. ASK AWAY FOLKS :^)

also I haven't opened for every country yet, but for that too, if you don't see your location on the list, tell me, I'll check the deals.

Have a nice day !

[housecow]

i have a lot of cute ideas

my feeder travels a lot—he’s lucky enough to have a job that can take him all over the world. his cow, however, cannot really follow.

i outgrew a regular plane seat sometime after 300lbs. we discovered that after a particularly fruitful trip to spain; although eating our way through each city racked up a lot of steps, the funnel sessions and late night snacking really did me in. neither of us were really surprised that my hips just didn’t quite fit. rather, i could tell it was all he could think about the entire way back. his hand on my soft thigh, slightly clenched and almost possessive… the way his eyes flickered to mine and there was this look.

our trips together became rarer but neither of us minded. as i’d grown, a lot of what we used to do together faded. i couldn’t keep up on the hikes, biking was out of the question, and even the long walks we enjoyed wound up split by breaks so i could catch my breath.

throughout it all, however, my feeder just grew more enthusiastic. he’d tell me he was so proud after we made it back to the hotel each night. his hands would massage my softened shoulders, he’d hold the shake to my lips, and he’d coo into my ear, “it’s okay, i won’t make you do this again,” “there’s a buffet tomorrow morning,” or, “you can really feel how fat we’ve made you now, right?”

i’d melt with whatever he said and he’d fill me up, every way i needed. funnels and shakes, expansive platters of pastries… him inside me, i’m so full and he’s telling me how good i’m doing for him, my belly touching the bed while he’s breeding me…

neither of us minded when we had to do things separately. he’d be off on a trip, sending me photos of the views and the food (“wish i could be feeding you these!”), and i’d return the gesture. belly pics, selfies of my fatass planted on the couch working on the last bit of the gallon of ice cream that was supposed to last the week, meal ideas and articles and excitement about all he’s getting to experience.

the best part, however, is when he’d get back. over the longer trips i’d have settled in a bit too much. nothing was overly dirty, of course, but the fridge was overstocked with takeout. i’d finished almost everything and move on to whatever was next, absentmindedly leaving behind remnants of everything i’d made my way through. the trash would be full of boxes and candy wrappers, vegetable skins and soda cans, too. and he'd be able to see what it all did to me.

i was bigger every time he came back. it wasn’t too obvious, maybe just a pound or two, but it was enough to excite him. he’d admire the way i had to focus and gather momentum to heave myself out of the car, how my belly hang hit my thighs just enough to make a sound when i tried to move quickly, and how he could always count on me to gorge myself while i missed him.

he never made a comment though. but every time before he left the pantry would be replenished—zebra cakes, brownies, chips, pasta, sauce, boxed mac n cheese, everything he could think of would be left there for me.

he once said, “i won’t let a moment pass where you can’t reach for something to eat,” and it was true. a candy bowl mysteriously appeared on the coffee table one day, each time i reached the bottom it’d be refilled. the mini fridge side table was “cute and functional,” he reasoned, as he showed me where the sodas and premade shakes were going. i’d thank him, a soft kiss and several grateful expressions, before admitting that i was relieved at having one less trip to the kitchen now when i was settled in.

and he’d just smile. enabling a cow like me is easy, he just has to set the food out. i know what to do.

[buckysgrace]

1. My Kink is Karma

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Your friend convinces you to join her grand plan. Steve is surprised about your advances.

Dividers by @strangergraphics :)

The air was hot and muggy. Humid. It was so humid that the back of your neck was wet, leaving the strands of hair against your skin wet. The sun was even more miserable, beating down against your skin as you roughly pumped your feet against the pedals. You were almost there. 

You had no car, well not anymore. Patty had begged and pleaded with you to take one spin in it behind the wheel, which you eventually agreed to against your better judgment. Your car was currently busted up in a junkyard and you were spending the summer paying for the damage your friend had done. Not that it was truly her fault, you were the one that let her behind the wheel.

You shoved your bike into the rack, almost not caring enough to lock it up. But you did despite your legs and arms crying in protest. At least you had a bike, if you lost this you’d end up having to walk. Your grandparents had been very clear of what they expected from you after your mistake. It was fair. 

Orange Julius wasn’t that bad of a job, a bit boring; but you really wished you were walking around and shopping like the rest of your peers. Instead you were stuck behind a counter, gowned in an ugly orange apron and an orange cap to keep your hair out of the food and drinks. It was better than the hairnet you supposed.

And it was certainly better than the terrible Scoops Ahoy! Uniforms that you had the unlucky pleasure of viewing every day. The store was directly across from yours, such a great view when you zoned out. Patty certainly thought so.

“Look at him in his dumb uniform,” She commented as she loudly sipped from her drink, her second free one that you had gifted her, “How many girls do you think have rejected him today?” She questioned you, looking more than gleeful as she stared towards the large glass windows into the ice cream store. 

“Don’t know,” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders, working on getting the drinks ready for the couple that was waiting, “Maybe a few.” You added, trying to appear as interested in the conversation as she was. In all honesty, you were growing tired of the mockery of Steve. It felt like old news. You didn’t understand why she kept obsessing over it. 

Steve was a hard topic for you to discuss, to even think about. You had known him far before he had dated Patty and left her heart in a pile of broken pieces. Back before he ever cared about popularity and gaining the title of King Steve.

Your memories of Steve came with dirty, scraped knees and popsicle stained lips. Of playing popcorn on your trampoline and him teaching you how to dive into the deep side of his pool. It was catching fireflies and having your gran paint your faces on your birthdays. You were fond of them all.

Then high school rolled around and things changed. The two of you drifted apart and soon your gran had an overstock of grape popsicles in her freezer. Those had always been his favorite. 

Things didn’t end on bad terms though, so you supposed you were grateful for that. You still occasionally exchanged pleasantries and small conversations. The last time you’d actually interacted with him had been at your graduation party. Patty had thrown a fit, even though you’d been in the dark about him coming over. But your grandparents loved him.

“You know what would be really funny?” Patty asked you as she hopped up on the side of the counter, leaving one of your coworkers to grumble about it. You smiled sheepishly, sure that they were all annoyed with her hanging around. “What?” You asked as you quickly smiled towards the customers as you handed off their drinks to them. You happily accepted the leftover coins as your tip, happy for anything that would help with your car situation. 

“If you went on a date with him.” Patty’s sentence surprised you as you snapped your head towards her, watching the way her pouty lips had turned up into a smirk. 

“Me?” You looked at her in disbelief, eyebrows crinkling together as your eyes widened, “Are you joking?” You asked her seriously as you hesitantly approached, sure that she had to be pulling your leg. Go out with Steve? The same ex she hadn’t been able to get over? You were positive you heard her wrong. 

“I’m being serious,” She grinned as she leaned over the counter, her green eyes sparkling with mischief, “Can you imagine how upset he’d be when you dump him?” She laughed at the thought, looking a little too gleeful for comfort. 

“Exactly why I’m not doing that.” You told her quickly as you shook your head. What Steve had done to her was shitty, but you were not a heartbreaker. You hadn’t ever broken up with anyone either, nor had you been in a serious enough relationship to pull off the act. 

“Why not?” She whined as she reached for your hands, “It would be the perfect revenge.” She added as she squeezed at your fingers. You looked at her oddly, wondering where she had gotten the impression that you were like that. This summer was supposed to be about working off your mistake, not about cozying up to Steve Harrington. 

“I don’t like Steve like that.” You dismissed her as you wrinkled your nose up. You’d never liked him like that. It irritated you to no end to hear about the girls in your classes talking about their romantic encounters with him. It had been unbearable during his brief stunt with Patty. You were secretly glad when it ended, not that you would ever tell her that. 

“You don’t have to,” She said as she shook her head, her blonde curls flying about, “You just have to make him like you.” She drew out more playfully as her grip around your fingers only tightened. 

“No,” You replied sternly as you pulled your hands away, “We used-,”

“To be friends, I know,” She finished for you, “But then he ditched you Freshman year for all of those cool people.” She waved her hand like it was no big deal, but you still felt the dull ache in your chest. But you were going to college, none of that mattered anymore. 

“Thanks.” You replied dryly as you shook your head, glancing back over towards the ice cream store. From this angle you could see Steve talking dramatically with his hands as Robin held up some sort of board in his direction. 

“You’re a nerd, but I love you,” She replied eagerly as she nodded her head, “See, it works out perfectly. You can get your own revenge too.” She laid it all out for you simply, as if it wasn’t a tricky task. It was all sort of bizarre to you. 

“I don’t want revenge,” You told her with a laugh, “That was years ago. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to college soon and forgetting about this dumb town.” That was if you could pay off your destroyed car. And get a new one. 

“You should do it for me anyways.” She whined as she bounced on the tips of her toes and smacked her palms against the counter, like she was a small child. You grumbled in response. 

“Why?” You asked her seriously as you rested your hand on your hip while you leaned on the counter. She rested her chin on her hands, pouting out her bottom lip as she fluttered her eyelashes up at you. 

“Because I’m your best friend. Maybe your only friend,” She added quickly, “And you owe me.” She added in a strict manner, narrowing her eyes slightly as if she was recalling a memory. You laughed. 

“What exactly do I owe you for?” You asked her seriously as you cocked your eyebrows, a little amused at the tantrum she was throwing. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to it. 

“You failed to tell me that Steve was such a heartbreaker.” She pointed at you, like it was all somehow your fault. You blinked slowly, knowing that she’d have to do better than that. You had told her many times that it wasn’t a good idea. 

“Everyone knew about that,” You responded with a laugh, “Nice try though.” You told her as you grabbed a spray bottle and began to wipe off the counter, purposely so she could move her elbows away. 

“Please,” She tried again as she pouted her lips out, “You know what he put me through, don’t you think he deserves a taste of his own medicine?” She asked you seriously, sounding more frustrated this time around. 

“I think that’s happening right now,” You responded as you crinkled your nose up, clearly able to hear him talking loudly to the group of girls that had just walked into the ice cream store, “Besides, he’d get suspicious. We’ve never been like that.” You couldn’t imagine being romantic with Steve or pretending to date him. It was outrageous. 

“We could cook up a cute story,” Patty declared, “You’ve been in love with him since you were little; he’s your childhood crush. Oh he’d fall for it.” She nodded her head, eyes still gleaming as she continued to plot out her awful plan. 

“He would not.” Lies. He definitely would. Being a hopeless romantic certainly fit Steve, even if he left behind shattered pieces of hearts in his path. 

“You go on a few dates,” She continued, “Just a few. Enough to make him like you. LIke really like you. You make him feel like he’s getting his groove back, that he can be happy and then you just dump him.” She smacked her hands against your wet counter, smiling wide as she squealed a second later. 

“Oh my God.” You groaned as you covered your face with your hands, feeling like she wasn’t listening to you. She was too much sometimes. 

“Just do this one little thing for me,” She whined dramatically again, “Please. Why won’t you do it for me? Your best friend?” She questioned you as you felt yourself huff all over again. It was ridiculous, that was why. 

“Just to be clear,” You started as you held your hands up in surrender and shut your eyes, “You want me to pretend to date your ex, be all sweet and romantic with him and then break up with him?” You asked her, being sure that you had the points correct. 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” You huffed as you drifted your eyes up towards the ceiling, wondering if anyone could hear your inner pleas, “You’re sick, demented. A terrible person.” You told her seriously, trying to recall why you had become friends in the first place. 

“I love you too,” She cooed as she leaned forward to kiss your forehead, “I’ll start looking for something cute for your first date.” She replied cheerily as she walked away, blowing you a kiss as she left. 

“Patty!” You shouted, eyes wide in disbelief, “I’m not doing it!”

You were true to your word, but that didn’t mean that Patty was happy with it. Her tantrum grew into dark, gloomy clouds and lightning flashes as she took to ignoring you in her usual manner. She did this every so often, making a point to show you that she wouldn’t speak to you again until you did whatever she wanted. You weren’t going to budge this time. 

“Where’s your friend?” The voice startled you, shaking you away from your thoughts as you munched on a carton of fries that were growing increasingly cold as your lunch break went on. You looked up curiously, almost dropping the fry from your mouth. 

“Steve?” You asked, sure that you were dreaming for just a moment. Of course it would be your luck to have him bump into you after your event with Patty. He did look dorky in his little uniform, but you’d noticed that he’d taken off his hat. 

“Yeah,” He said slowly, looking over his shoulder as if there was someone behind him, “That’s me. Why are you sitting alone?” He asked as he pointed his finger down to the free seat, like he was asking for an invitation to join you. You shrugged your shoulders. 

“Why do you care?” You asked him, not meaning for your tone to come out so snarky. But it was true. It wasn’t like he asked about you any other day. 

“I don’t,” He said at last, “Well sort of. You look like a bum.” He said at last, making your jaw drop as you stared up at him. You shifted, unable to help that your shirt was an ugly color and apron clutched so tightly to you. Perhaps you hadn’t cleaned up too well after the bike ride here either. Great. Just great. 

“This is my work uniform,” You huffed out, “I can’t control how it looks.” You replied defensively as you tried to straighten your clothes out, wondering why he was coming over to pick at you. Perhaps he thought you were an easy target like the kids in high school. 

“No,” He said as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “You look sad.” He declared with a nod of your head, leaving you just as confused as what he looked. 

“Bummed,” You corrected as you shook your head once you came to the right conclusion, “I think you mean that I look bummed.” You told him, blinking your eyes slowly as you laughed in response. 

“Yeah, that,” He replied as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Are you?” He asked you slowly, making you wonder once again why he even cared. You watched as he swung the chair around and straddled it, sitting across from you.

“I guess a bit,” You hummed as you ate another fry, eyes narrowing as he reached across and took a handful to shove into his mouth, “I think Patty dumped me.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, feeling like there was no point in denying it.

“She’s a -,” He stalled for a moment, “She’s pretty nasty.” He decided on at last, as if that made it any better. You tilted your head, unsure of why he would stick that label on her. He wasn’t any better and was certainly a cheater amongst other things. 

“Uh huh,” You drew out slowly, “Is there a reason you came over here or?” You asked curiously as you raised your eyebrows, trying to gain knowledge of what he wanted from you. It was fairly suspicious that he had decided to speak to you now after your former conversation with Patty. 

“Just wanted to check in on you.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, his tone softer as he drifted his brown eyes towards you. You felt your stomach clench in surprise before you quickly glanced away, unable to hold his gaze for very long. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” You replied tiredly as you pulled a tight smile onto your lips, “Does this look like a smile of a bum?” You asked him, unable to help yourself as a giggle burst free from your lips. It was silly, pleasant. Like it used to be. 

“Ha,” He replied dryly but smiled all the same, “I see why you got dumped.” He told you as he jerked his chin towards you, making a frown form on your lips. You supposed you shouldn’t feel so sensitive towards the manner, but you were fairly hurt over everything. Patty had been your only real friend for the longest time. It was shitty.

You sighed as you scooted your chair back, earning a confused look from Steve before you gathered up all of your trash. You dramatically tossed it into the bin before you turned on your heel, not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you all upset. 

“I was kidding,” Steve shouted after you, stumbling over his chair as you headed back towards your store, “You know, just a joke!” You ignored him, not bothering to face his way before you flipped him off. 

“What’s this?” You asked as you held your back over your shoulder, resting a hand on your hip as you looked at the image in front of you. The mall was long closed and you had taken your time to get the store locked up and ready for tomorrow. 

Steve had a pitiful grin as he stood in front of you, a bowl filled with ice cream resting in his palms. You tilted your head, noticing the bananas and extra cherries. His hat was resting awkwardly on the side of his head, his hair sticking in different directions as if he’d messed with it for too long.

“I feel like a dick,” He said at last, “I really was just trying to check on you. Here. You can have this.” He pushed it out towards you, nearly dropping it on you before you caught it upright. He moved his hands towards you to balance it, his slender fingers brushing against your now warm skin. 

“Thanks,” You replied with a laugh, “I don’t think I can eat this on my bike though.” You told him seriously as you looked down at the messy toppings, almost as if a child had set it up. He had never been the artistic type. 

“We could share it here.” He suggested with a shrug of his lips, frowning his lips out softly like he wasn’t quite sure what you’d suggest. You placed the bowl down on the table before you rested your hand on your hip, thinking over his suggestion. 

“Are you asking me out?” You questioned with a cocked eyebrow. Bold. It was far too bold for you. He must’ve thought the same as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his head almost toppled off of his head. 

“I-,” His lips stopped moving for a moment, his cheeks turning a bright red as his brown eyes widened in shock, “No. I mean. Yes. I uh, if you want it to be? No. I’m asking you out. Yes.” He furrowed his eyebrows tightly together, looking as confused as you felt for a moment. You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. It was sort of cute. Just sort of. 

“Real smooth, Harrington,” You responded as you pulled a chair out, “You’ve always had a way with words.” You teased him as you sat down, mirroring the way he’d found you earlier. He snorted as he pressed a hand through his messy hair. You watched, wondering if it had grown lighter from the summer sun. 

“I do,” He replied more confidently as he took the spot across from you, “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask me.” He said as he pointed the spoon towards you, then back to himself. You rolled your eyes as you stole the spoon from his fingers.

“Is that a problem?” You questioned as you took a large scoop from the ice cream, securing a piece of banana before you munched down on it. He watched you for a moment before he stole the spoon from you to take a bite of his own. At least neither of you cared about germs anymore.

“No,” He said as a cheesy smile pulled onto his lips, “I always knew you were into me.” His revelation shocked you, making your jaw drop in surprise.

“I was not,” You squeaked out, completely forgetting what Patty wanted you to say, “I bet you were the one that was into me.” You teased him back as you took another bite, then another just to spite him. 

He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched you, eyes warm and filled with amusement. He softened though, his features relaxing into something you deemed as being vulnerable before he adjusted in his seat.

“A bit,” He admitted, leaving you stunned as you pressed your lips together. You could feel your pulse racing, the butterflies forming in your stomach from his words. That was certainly a surprise. You never picked up any of those feelings from him, “I always thought you were pretty.” 

You felt a warm feeling grow inside of your chest, your heart thumping as you tried to comprehend his compliment. You parted your lips, your positions quickly changing as you suddenly couldn’t find the words to say.

“Oh,” You watched as he licked the bottom of the spoon clean, your knees twitching together, “I didn’t know.” You said at last, unsure of what else you could say. You felt guilty suddenly, even though you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Not yet. He could totally be messing with you at this point. 

“You still live in the same place,” He stated, but then quickly coughed as he spoke again, “Right?” He flushed once again, a soft smile pressing onto his lips. He reminded you of the boy you once knew.

“Born and raised,” You told him in agreement, “I don’t suppose you’d invite me to go swimming?” You questioned, deciding that you might as well go ahead and take the lead. He laughed.

“We could do that,” He nodded his head in agreement, “Tomorrow. It’s a date.” 

[anorlondo00]

“Why are you good at this?” (Marco x Ace NSFW)

CW: Oral sex, car sex, use of marijuana, praise // Word count: 1.3k // AN: This is a piece of my larger fic, Apartment Above the Auto Shop but it should read just fine out of context. Since it’s the first time I’ve posted smut, I felt compelled to share it as its own thing!

Also, if you didn’t know chapter 10 is up, chapter 10 is indeed up. Should I be announcing this on tumblr? Where do you guys get your updates from 🤔 Should I use twitter? lmao help

Preview:

“This is the last thing I expected from you.”

Ace froze. His gorgeous long fingers stopped around the base of his shaft. “Should I stop?”

Marco pushed hot air past his teeth, “Ace.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Don’t make it so easy.”

—

“Park in the back.” Ace told him, “Pop’s usually double locks the front door to the shop.”

“Sure.”

The other side of the parking lot was somewhat of a secondary work space. An overstock of tires was stacked beneath a tarp against the rot iron fence. Moths danced in the light that illuminated the back entrance. A narrow metal door was beside the fire escape Marco used to smoke cigarettes off of years ago.

Marco clicked the gear shift into park. His eyes looked distracted with the dozens of things he could say that would end their night. This wasn't exactly how he intended for things to go and for that, guilt pulled on his shoulders.

He leaned back, his arms folded across his chest. As Marco lulled his head to the side to address his passenger, he was met with Ace’s laser focused eyes, sharp with intention. Before Marco could question him, Ace had leaned over the center console to kiss him.

He still tasted like Terminal Ten’s cheap tequila. It had Marco going back for more, pushing everytime Ace pulled like a rhythmic little game he could play for hours if Ace would let him. “I’m sorry.” Marco broke apart from him, wistfully catching his breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what happened.”

“Move your seat back.”

Marco felt him shift. Ace braced his weight on either side of Marco’s seat and climbed over the center console. Marco sturdied his arms, completely dumbfounded as to what Ace was doing until the latter sat on his knees, on the floor of his car, between his legs. “What the hell are you doing?”

Ace shrugged while his fingers found Marco’s belt— he shrugged. Amusement curled up the corners of his mouth and from below his dark lashes, Ace studied Marco with the endless black of his eyes. Marco’s belt was loud while Ace unbuckled it. “I’m just showing my appreciation.”

“You’re thanking me?” Marco huffed.

“Yeah.” Ace unzipped Marco’s slacks and his curious fingers slid over the twitching mound beneath his boxers. “Sound alright with you?”

Marco blinked.

He felt his breath catching in his throat while Ace pulled him out of his boxers. “That was a stupid fucking move I made. I honestly— I can’t believe you’re not mad at me.”

Ace’s head tilted a few degrees to the right. Whether he was impressed or intimidated by Marco’s size was unclear. “I probably should be.” He wrapped his hands, both of them, one on top of the other, and squeezed with just enough pressure to massage down his length. “But I really liked seeing that bastard bleed all over the sidewalk.”

Marco’s back pressed against the seat. His chest tightened, then released as his body scrambled to adjust to the overwhelming waves of pleasure. “You’re—“ Marco sighed, “Inscane.”

“I want to do something nice. Don’t get used to it.”

“This is the last thing I expected from you.”

Ace froze. His gorgeous long fingers stopped around the base of his shaft. “Should I stop?”

Marco pushed hot air past his teeth, “Ace.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Don’t make it so easy.” Meticulously, Ace tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. His focused, cat-like stair studied Marco’s expression while he slid his mouth over the tip of Marco’s cock.

Marco inhaled, sharply. The tight, warm pressure running down his length made every nerve in his body drunk with pleasure. It’d been a long time since he had something like this, even longer since Marco felt such an intense physical attraction towards the person doing it. Ace’s mouth felt like ecstasy. The small grunts and the glassy eyes showing just a hint of uncertainty while he took an inch too much into his mouth would be Marco’s undoing.

He knew he was testing death when he put his hand behind Ace’s head. The poison ridden daggers that shot back at him sent a chill running down his spine. Not that he’d push him— Marco wasn’t an idiot. But god, did he want to feel Ace’s lighting silk hair between his fingers while his mouth pumped over his cock again and again. Marco let his head fall back. Ace’s fingers dug into the tightening muscles between his thighs.

“Fuck—“ Marco screwed his eyes shut when he felt Ace tongue press relentlessly on its way down. “Why are you good at this?” Marco hissed at him, “Fuck—Ah— That’s it…”

Ace tilted his head, wincing while he pushed Marco’s tip against the back of his throat. Marco’s fingers twitched in his hair so Ace did it again, just shy of choking himself and blurring the very edges of his vision with tears.

Perfect. Just like that. Exactly like that. Everything about Ace between his legs turned him on but the goosebumps rising across Ace’s shoulders at all the praise– that gave his entire body a hot flash. Marco’s fingers combed through the thick mess of Ace’s bangs. What pieces fell in front of his face, Marco brushed back with the utmost care. From the lowest register of his voice, he groaned, “Atta boy.”

Ace’s throat twitched. Marco tightened the grip he had in his hair and the latter gasped. The vibrations of Ace's mouth brought on the vicious surge of his climax.

Ace flinched at the bitter, hot seed that hit the back of his throat. It was thick, awkward to swallow, and far more than he had expected. He struggled to swallow what was in his mouth. “Fuck—” Ace hissed. Milky beads of semen trailed between his glossy bottom lip and Marco’s cock as he pulled it from his mouth. “—Fucking warn me.”

Marco had his other hand wound up in his own hair. He watched Ace from behind his wrist. Marco’s broad chest heaved to catch his breath and swore he was still seeing stars from the way the orgasm shook every nerve in his body. “You were—” He huffed loudly through his nose, struggling to form an English sentence. “That wasn't on purpose.”

Ace dragged the heel of his palm across his chin. He looked gorgeous, dewey from sweat and debauched with Marco’s cum dripping from his lip. It was one hell of a view. The filthiest baroque painting Marco had ever seen.

Ace pushed on Marco’s thighs while he got up and maneuvered back into the passenger seat. He ran his fingers back through his bangs, shaking loose any locks of hair that had begun to stick to the side of his face. With wide, curious eyes, he watched Marco recover. With an almost comedic level of offhandedness, he asked “Was that good?”

“That was good.” Marco's fingers shook while he tucked himself back into his pants. “That was good. That was… “ He cleared his throat, “You’re gonna have to give me a second.”

This got a smirk out of the raven haired man. Those wickedly sharp teeth looked gorgeous in his mouth while he hummed, “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

Ace replied in earnest, almost musically, “No, that was free of charge.”

Ace rocked onto one hip to pull something out of his pocket. A green plastic tube that popped open when he squeezed it. “Can I smoke in here?”

Marco rolled his eyes. The permission he granted Ace was in the form of cracking the windows an inch.

That was the image Marco miraculously captured into his memory. The visual carved itself into his mind. Maybe it was the hormones, the adrenaline flooding every nerve in his body with serotonin. Marco thought Ace looked perfect. Back lit by an orange street light, hair draped like curtains over his eyes, wrapped in a halo of smoke spilling from between his lips.

Marco reached out his hand and Ace looked pleased to place the joint between his fingers.

Thanks for reading!

If you like my style, you can check out my work here!

[cultofdixon]

The sky is falling

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When the shelf collapsed on Bob, it wasn’t just Bob under there…and he didn’t get the worse of it • ANGST/SFW • TW: Concussion / Injuries / Unconsciousness / Illness / Mentions of Nightmares / Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“Alright. We go in, stay in formation for the sweep” Sasha stated the plan in regards to entering the supermarket a few of them spotted on a run a while back. “After that, you all know what you’re supposed to look for. Any questions?”

“Was there ever a time that you weren’t the boss of me?” Tyreese questioned his sister who couldn’t help the smirk on her face.

“You had a few years before I was born” then the group started to flood into the building.

Except Bob lingered for a moment staring at half of a walker. Y/N took note of his lag and waited for him at the doors that when he turned toward her, she gave him a questioning look in matters of if he was okay or not. All he did was nodded before the two caught up with the others.

Everyone explored the place for what they needed, and of course whatever they needed. Daryl kept to himself mainly keeping an eye out for the standard essentials: food, water, meds…the good stuff. He occasionally would stop when he would find Y/N knelt down to the floor examining something which peaked his interest but before he could go question it, Glenn stepped over kneeling beside her.

“What are you doing?” He kept his voice low, in case of walkers. They all were.

“When I worked retail we kept some overstock in bins under or on top of the aisles…I know this place was used as a quarantine base and people were in here. But it’s worth a shot” Y/N reached carefully to feel for any pull and when she felt something, she tugged on it resulting in the overstock she had mentioned. “Jackpot”

“Thank god you agreed to come with us on this run. How long has it been since you’ve left the prison?” Glenn comments while repeating the action to another 4x4 section and flagging Sasha over to do the same on the opposite side of Y/N.

“Since uhm. Andrea.” Y/N gave him a sad smile before standing up and leaving the two to rummage through everything. Glenn watches her step away and gave Sasha a concerned look.

It’s been some time in the store and Y/N went from being with the group to lingering around after she had grabbed what was asked of her. She wasn’t doing what the others were doing after they had grabbed what they needed for the community. There was plenty of interesting finds that some had grabbed but she didn’t think much of anything she saw. Except for this dorky little keychain at one of the cashier displays, it made her smile and he noticed it.

“Y/N, mind giving me a hand with something? Can’t seem to find what I’m looking for” Bob silently called for her as Y/N quickly pulls herself away to help.

Daryl quietly revealing himself from the aisle he was watching her from and approached the cashiers to take a closer look at what she was looking at. It was indeed a dorky looking keychain of a kiwi. But right as he picked it up that’s when the crash happened.

“You alright?” Daryl asked the second he came over to the fallen wine shelves that were crushing whoever was under there.

“Y-Yeah I’m alright. I don’t think Y/N is though” Bob’s voice was hoarse and in a panic as Daryl quickly ran around the other side to find Y/N facing away from him but when she heard the rushed footsteps she slowly turned her head revealing the head lac.

“Hey, hey—-You with me? You gotta stay with me” Daryl states watching her eyes struggle to stay open.

“Y-…Yeah” Y/N groaned out as she tried to push against the shelf but given her state and the instability of it. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Don’t try and move. We’re gonna get yea both out” Daryl states about to get up when he heard her cough out a ‘wait’, making him instantly go back down. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay”

“D-Don’t go” Y/N’s voice cracked when saying such as her anxiety made this situation a whole lot worse but her head was also pounding at an uncomfortable rate that it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she may be concussed.

“Alright. I’m staying.” Daryl reassures as he lifts his head up finding Zack already rushing over and quickly scanned around for another body, said being Tyreese. “Hey! We need a hand” and without a second thought, the man came rushing over helping the other lift the shelf off Bob first.

“What happened?!” Glenn yells over a few aisles when he heard the crash.

“Bob and Y/N are under some shelves!” Zack stated helping secure the shelf stay upright before moving onto the one right next to the middle one, the one Y/N is under.

“I was moving fast, man. I drove right into the drinks” Bob’s voice shook as he spoke while Tyreese gave him a quick hand up.

“You lucked out. If this thing had come down on you the wrong way—-“

“It did on Y/N, now hurry the fuck up and help me get this thing up and off her as well” Daryl interrupted his anger overshadowing his worry.

Right as the three lifted the one next to the one on top of Y/N, the roof collapsed in resulting in the others flocking over to the sound.

“Yeah, uh, we should probably go now” Glenn urges hearing the archer growl in annoyance.

“Y/N’s still stuck in there. Gotta get her outta there” Daryl snaps approaching one side of the shelf as Zack, Tyreese, and Bob joined him to get it lifted.

“I’ve got you covered until she’s out” Michonne states unsheathing her katana and slicing through the occasional walker as they seem to continue to fall from the sky.

The walkers were getting too much and they had to slowly start abandoning the idea of getting Y/N out and take care of the undead coming to give them more of a window.

“damn…sky is falling…” Y/N choked out as she took note of the crawling walker coming close to her while the commotion only continued around the scene. I’m going to die kept repeating in her already aching mind.

“We have to get her out now if we all are gonna make it” Zack states picking up the shelf making Y/N shift slightly but when she tried to sit up she immediately went down.

The archer quickly grabbed the crawling walker by the ankles pulling it back before crushing its skull with his foot. He quickly then ran over to Y/N carefully picking her up bridal style while Zack kept the shelf up.

What happened next…wasn’t..pretty.

A couple hours passed and the group returned to the prison, missing one of their people due to the usual unfortunate turns of events. The news had to be broken and Daryl took it upon himself to go deliver such while the others settled back in.

Beth was writing away in her journal when she heard footsteps to find Daryl by her cell door.

“Hey”

“Hi”

“What is it?” Beth asks with a hint of curiosity but given Daryl’s composure, her shoulders fell slightly.

“Zack” Daryl clears his throat keeping his gaze to the floor.

The young Greene kept silent for a moment before asking if he was dead, only for silence to be her straight answer. Beth quietly got up from her bunk approaching the sign she has that would hang up in some companies this workplace has had ___ days without an accident and removed the three in front of the zero. Making a whole month accident free back to zero. She knew he was still standing there and gave him a confused look.

“What?” Beth quietly approaches the cell door relaxing a bit. “I don’t cry anymore, Daryl. I’m just…glad I got to know him, you know?”

“Me too…” Daryl frowns bringing his gaze back onto the floor watching her feet come into view and a small nudge from her to get him to look back at her.

“Are you okay?” Beth questions, not receiving an immediate answer and decided to ask about what she does know. “Does it have to do…with Y/N? My daddy and the new doctor checked her out. A few stitches and a bad concussion”

“Yeah. Uh. I ain’t talkin’ about it” and on that note, Daryl stepped away knowing damn well he would’ve screamed if he heard the slightest reassuring thing.

He was taking it as his fault when it wasn’t.

The night only continued to stress Daryl out as he avoided her cell even if every fiber of his being fought against him. He took that night watch to be outside of the prison and let the cool night air try to flood the thoughts out. But it was ultimately failing.

________

Y/N latched onto Daryl making it difficult for him to try and get her in the backseat of one of the cars. He decided to just climb in with her and hold her the entire ride while Michonne took his bike back to the prison.

When the group initially returned, Rick knew of their return by the sounds of honking which they weren’t supposed to do because the wall was already weakening and the sound will only attract more to push it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rick asks Glenn who was driving as he quickly parks.

“Sorry we need Hershel, or Caleb. Whoever is available” Glenn didn’t even let Rick continue to scowled him as the retired sheriff nodded before running inside to get either of them while Sasha helped Daryl carefully get Y/N who about half way home started to complain about the dizziness that when she got out of the car she didn’t mean to shove Daryl off but she wasn’t about to vomit on him.

Y/N hunched over by the side of the car throwing up once more as she didn’t feel any better. Daryl stuck by her side holding her hair back as Tyreese tossed over his canteen to his sister who knelt down while opening it to try and get Y/N to take a sip. But the world was spinning for her that she tried to reach for it before failing and collapsing against the archer.

“GET FUCKING HERSHEL OR SOMEBODY ALREADY” Daryl snaps not caring for any kid within earshot of his cursing as he picked her up once more deciding to shorten the distance to wherever the docs are.

Soon Daryl found himself hovering outside Y/N’s cell while Caleb got the stitches done for her small head lac while Hershel kept asking questions that one would ask someone who’s concussed.

Do you know where you are

What’s your name

How old are you

Granted the man couldn’t ask what day it was or stuff like that because it is the apocolypse and time became irrelevant but she still answered the ones he asked.

“She’s going to be fine. But we’ll do hourly neuro checks.” Caleb states finishing the stitches and applying the bandage.

“I’ll stay with her to keep her up a little while longer just so we know she won’t hurt herself further with the concussion.” Hershel adds while Caleb cleans up.

Y/N was about to tell something to Daryl but when she looked at the door, he had walked away.

________

She was being taken care of. That wouldn’t have stopped him from also hovering but he was afraid of her slipping and losing her in the process.

Daryl was about to light his cigarette when he heard small tapping on the glass of the watchtower. He looks over and can barely see the small pebbles hitting the glass as if someone was trying to get his attention.

When he stepped out to investigate by shining his flashlight to whoever it may be. His anxiety rose when he saw Y/N standing at the surface hugging a blanket.

Y/N waited patiently for him to come down and she was prepared for his line of questioning.

“Why are you doing out here?”

“Rick came to check on me about an hour ago…told me where you were when I asked about you. Thought you could use a blanket”

“There’s…” Daryl knew she would do this, she’s done this before whenever he had watch. Come bring him things he didn’t exactly need but he appreciated it every time. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I…it’s..stupid” Y/N frowns averting her gaze while hugging the blanket close as Daryl stepped forward bringing him close to her.

“You can trust me”

“I can’t stop thinking about it…almost dying.” Her voice was low as she gently touched the bandage keeping her eyes still averted. “I…Uh…when the realization hit under the shelf and the roof was caving in…I just thought I was going to die and wouldn’t be able to say anything”

“…wouldn’t be able to say anything?”

“Wouldn’t be able to tell y—-“

“Y/N?” Maggie’s voice caught them both off guard as she approaches the two realizing she walked into something but saw past it for what she’s out there for. “My daddy is looking for you. To put a new bandage on”

“I could’ve done it my—-“

“Nah, go get checked by the doc” Daryl interrupts this time as he carefully took the blanket from her grasp. “I appreciate this…and we’ll talk later”

Y/N gave him a soft smile and a nod before leaving to go do such, leaving Maggie alone with Daryl a moment as she waited for their friend to enter the prison for her to speak up.

“I know how scary today was for yea. Next time, just tell her” Maggie gave him a small smile before going back to bed.

Then it seemed to only go down hill for everyone since that day. When the outbreak happened, Daryl instantly ran to where Y/N stood over one of the turned she had taken out and brought her into his embrace carefully. She quickly latched on holding onto him for a moment, or at least until they had to move the bodies and hold a council meeting.

Next to happen was turning Cellblock A into a Quarantine Zone, getting a group together to go out and get drugs, and take care of the fence. So much was happening…

That when the group were leaving the veterinary college after grabbing what they can. Bob dropped his bag into a sea of walkers as he gripped onto the strap to dear life tugging it back ignoring the others telling him to let it go. He swiped it hard enough to bring it back on the awning they stood on, the bottles clanging caught everyone’s attention especially Daryl’s.

Daryl knelt down picking up a bottle of booze slowly standing and giving Bob a glare. “You got no meds in your bag?” He shakes the bottle watching Bob try and look away. “Just this?”

Bob’s silence only started to brew the anger inside of him.

“You should have kept walking that day.” Daryl scoffs about to chuck the bottle, hearing Bob say ‘don’t’ while holding his hand over his gun.

The archer quickly got up in the man’s face keeping his ground as Tyreese and Michonne watched it unfold. The second he grabbed Bob’s vest, Tyreese spoke up.

“Just let it go, Daryl. The man’s made his choice. Nothing you can do about it” Tyreese states as Daryl releases Bob from his grasp. “Just gotta let it go”

“I didn’t want to hurt nobody…” Bob states keeping his gaze to his feet. “It was just for when it gets quiet. Would’ve never grabbed it now if she wasn’t in the aisle that day.”

That’s when he snapped and instead of chucking the bottle in that moment, his fist met Bob’s face making him drop harshly onto the fragile awning they stood on getting him dangerously close to the herd of walkers. Daryl knelt down to his level and before Tyreese could intervene, Michonne stopped him giving her friend the benefit of the doubt.

“You almost got the woman I love killed that day.” Daryl hissed out making Bob flinch as he drops the bottle by his face. “Take one sip. When those meds get in our people, I will beat your ass into the ground. You hear me?”

And with that Daryl left ahead of the others, no more words were exchanged.

[sleep-i-ness]

2. Unlikely Saviour (Anthony Lockwood x reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST | LOCKWOOD & CO MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST

The next time you see Lockwood is during your closing shift. It’s just you and Arif left in the café, wiping down tables, cleaning up the prep area, and getting ever closer to flipping the sign to ‘CLOSED’. At every other place you’d worked, you’d hated these shifts; the cleaning, the lack of anything else to do, the amount of time with your thoughts; but Arif turned the music up louder and you passed the last few empty hours post-curfew singing to whatever was on the radio and flicking water at him when he passed. Arif had gone up to bed about half an hour ago when he’d been too busy fighting off yawns to be any use, so you’d shooed him away with a promise to get home safely.

The tinkle of the bells above the door has your hand on your hip in an instant, fingers closing round the handle of your knife as you whip round. And sag in relief when you catch sight of Lockwood. Not that he was a sight for sore eyes, more just a better alternative to some neighbourhood thug – not that there were many of those in a place like this.

“Got anything left?” He limps in, dropping into the closest chair and you narrow your eyes at him. He looks a little worse for wear than the last time you’d seen him, but the long black coat hides any more obvious signs of damage. Not that you’d care if he was injured; no more than you would for any stranger in the street.

“Busy evening?” You ask, leaning your mop against the counter and slipping into the seat next to Lockwood. He startles; eyes having already started to drift shut.

“You could say that. Successful though.” He manages a tired smirk, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in it. You glance at his shirt again, frowning as you make out a large dark stain on his white shirt. He shifts and you sigh. No, that was definitely not shadow.

“Despite the wound on your side?” You question.

He freezes and looks up at you sheepishly. “Yeah, despite that.”

You roll your eyes and get up, before pausing to fix him with a stare. “Stay in that chair. I’m grabbing our first aid kit.”

You wave off his many protestations about having a first aid kit at home and some other nonsense to reach over the counter and yank out the green box that lived underneath it. It was usually only used for minor cuts from when you’d been a bit too careless while chopping or burns from that stupid stove that took forever to cool down. But you’d made sure to stock it up with some more hardy supplies when you joined. Just in case something went wrong.

Dumping the box down on the table, you silence Lockwood with a look. You cannot be arsed with the macho posturing he’s about to start on again. “Take off your coat.”

He winces as he slides his arms out of the sleeves, and you realise that his wound must be worse than he’d been letting on.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He shakes his head mutely and you raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head again and you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt and not press about the limp.

You flip open the lid to the box, pulling out scissors, tweezers, gauze, antiseptic, dressings, and then you hesitate over the needle. You glance at Lockwood again, trying to assess as best you can through the shirt, but you’re not going to know until you can see the problem.

Gathering your supplies in your hands, you kneel beside him, using your vacated chair as a makeshift table. “I’m going to need to cut your shirt away, okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, and you take the lack of verbal response as consent, but realistically you weren’t going to let him protest his way out of this anyhow.

The snick of the scissors lulls you back into memories of the many times doing this before for similarly stupid and bull-headed agents (Kipps’ face flashes in your mind) and you focus on cutting around the stain on both sides.

“Little overstocked for a café, aren’t you?” Lockwood’s nonchalance is undermined by the note of pain in his voice, tightening around his throat.

“Better safe than sorry,” you murmur, placing the scissors back on the chair. You check your cuts in the fabric, making sure they go high enough on both sides, before beginning to peel back the blood-soaked fabric.

He hisses, grip on the chair going white, and you wince when you see the damage. It’s a nasty shredded cut, with shards of wood protruding from the skin and although you’re not squeamish, you feel your stomach turn.

“Right,” you fix your voice into its most brisk, nurse-like tone. “I’m going to remove as much of the debris as possible before sterilising it.”

“Are you even trained?”

You give Lockwood an unimpressed look. Surely, he should have asked that before you’d cut through his shirt. “I’ve had experience.”

“Where?” But his line of questioning is derailed as you slowly pull out one of the larger splinters in his side, eliciting a colourful string of words from him. He keeps quiet after that, at most hissing when it’s a really big piece, but it allows you to focus on picking out as much as is visible. And definitely not on how close you are to his partially bare torso.

“Okay,” you drop the tweezers with sigh. “I’ve got everything I can see out. Probably not as good as you’d get in a hospital, but you agents are all the same when it comes to hospitals so I’m not even going to question why you skipped on it.”

You leave out the fact that you never, ever stepped foot in a hospital yourself. Unless you were covered head to toe – there was always too much death around; it hung around in the air like a bad smell, whispering softly in your ears even if you didn’t touch a thing.

You grab the antiseptic from beside you, grimacing at the thought of what Lockwood will feel once it touches his skin. “I’m going to have to disinfect it. It’s going to burn like mad, but it should kill any of the bacteria from that rotting wood you had shoved into you. If you need to hold onto anything else, you can grab onto my shoulder.”

“I’ve lived through worse.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you murmur, and begin pouring the antiseptic over the wound. Immediately Lockwood’s hand shoots out and clamps onto your shoulder, squeezing to a point that makes you fear losing circulation in that arm. But as you dab at it with a cotton pad, the red already seems to be cooling down and looking less angry.

“I’m going to wrap it. But to do that, I need you to take your shirt off.” You’re busying yourself with your supplies as you speak, forgetting that you’re talking to Lockwood and not Kipps or a friend, until he huffs a laugh.

“You could have just said you wanted to undress me.” Your head darts up, blood rushing to your cheeks as you try to push down whatever embarrassment had decided to crawl up inside you.

He’s already unbuttoning his shirt, fingers moving with a dexterity to slowly reveal inch after inch of smooth skin and you turn your head back to the gauze, refusing to acknowledge the way your hands are now shaking.

Picking up the dressing and the gauze, you press it to his skin. “Hold it for me, please.”

His fingers brush against yours as he replaces the pressure you’d been applying and you unravel the gauze, wrapping it tightly around the dressing and moving his fingers each time you come round, ignoring the funny feeling in your chest. You knot it tightly once you get to the end, before sitting back on your heels to appraise your work.

You’d done a decent job, if you can say so yourself.

Lockwood seems to think the same, judging by the way he’s angling himself to have a look on it, a funny confusion on his face. You’re far too distracted by the way each muscle shifts as he moves to really focus on his expression though.

“So where did you learn to do that?”

You broke from your staring, refusing to admit he’d caught you by making eye contact, and turned back to clear up the kit. “I told you; I have experience.”

“In what?”

“In patching up people. Friends, family, anyone who needs it.”

“Am I going to get any more than that?”

You fix him a cheery grin, such a break from the serious nurse persona that he blinks at you for a moment. “Nope.”

It feels like only a second has passed before you’re back with two large cups of tea, one a cloudy light brown and the other dark and clear, a bag of doughnuts and sweater. “Okay, so tea – wasn’t sure how you liked it so I’ve left it as is, but I can bring you milk and sugar if you need, doughnuts – enough for you and your team, you’d better give one to George, and the sweater is a spare of mine, but it should keep you warm on your way home.”

Lockwood waves off your offer of milk and sugar, taking a sip from the cup and wrinkling his nose a bit. “Not much of a teamaker, are you?”

You scoff. “If that’s the thanks I get.”

He laughs, properly laughs at that, eyes crinkling at the corners and it’s in this moment that you think that maybe you don’t entirely hate Anthony Lockwood. Just a little bit.

“Thanks for all this.” His voice is unusually quiet and so you just offer him a small smile.

“Sorry about the fiver, by the way.”

You freeze. “What?”

“The one I paid you with. Didn’t mean for that to get mixed up in my wallet, nasty thing that it is.”

“I… don’t know what you mean.” That’s the best response you can find, settling on ignorance rather than admitting you know exactly what he means and exactly what happened.

He scoffs. “Sure you don’t.”

You sip at your respective cups in silence after that, not necessarily awkward, well maybe a little, but you just didn’t have much to say.

“How are you getting home?” Lockwood is the first to break the silence.

You purse your lips. “Cab?”

“At this time of night?”

You glance at the clock on the wall. Shit. How was it already 2 in the morning. “Well, usually I’d have gone home a good few hours ago.”

Lockwood winces. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad you’re not bleeding out anymore. Blood loss isn’t a joke.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Experience.”

He hums, frowning at you. He’s clearly not happy with your evasive answers, but you didn’t need him to know about your past, your life.

“I’m going to try and call a cab.” You pull your phone out of your pocket, groaning as you see the low battery warning. Definitely not ideal. But it’s better to head home now and charge it when you get back than having to wait here for the battery life to tick slowly upwards.

“Are you sure? This late?” Lockwood arches a perfect eyebrow. You return his look with an equally unimpressed one; you’d like to see him come up with a better idea. “You’re not going to be able to call one, it’s too late to not prebook. And the Night Cab fares just get more extortionate this late.”

You sigh. He’s right, but you really don’t fancy kipping out on the floor tonight, using whatever you could find as a makeshift bedding. You’d had to do it before, but it wasn’t an experience you wanted to repeat again.

“You can stay at ours if you want.”

You blink at him, thoughts racing through your head. Kipps would quite possibly throttle you. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It’d be no trouble at all, we’ve got a sofa and I’m sure George will forgive you if you bring the doughnuts.”

You laugh. “Fine then. Saves me sleeping on this cold floor.”

--

Lockwood’s left arm is slung around your shoulders, putting half his weight on you to make it down the street and you curse him under your breath for being too proud to let you check his leg. The limp was definitely not from the injury you’d dressed.

A faint wail cuts through the air, and you stiffen, hand slipping inside your coat pocket and clutching onto the first salt bomb you found inside. You’re still a few doors down and at the rate you were going, whatever is coming towards you would get to you first.

Your heartbeat picks up, senses jolting to full power; you feel like a generator had been turned on inside you as everything blinks into higher quality.

Lockwood looks at you, brow furrowed as you press him to move faster.

 “I can’t walk that fast.” He grumbles.

But you just shush him, keenly aware of where his rapier is in case you need to grab it. He was in no state to fight right now. Stupid, you should have waited inside until it was dawn.

The screaming is only getting closer now and you shudder, but keep walking, trying to push Lockwood on without alerting him to the situation that you could definitely outrun if it weren’t for him.

A sharp wail behind you has you whirling around, Lockwood clutching onto you as you lob the salt bomb at the figure closest to you. Shit. You are definitely outnumbered.

“Give me your rapier,” you demand, aware of his feeble attempts to wield it himself. He could barely lift his right arm; he’d be deadweight in this fight.

“Get to the house,” he rebuts, trying to make a strong stance but failing to put any real weight on his leg.

“Give it to me. Now, Lockwood.” When he doesn’t make a move to hand it over, you snatch it from his hand, slicing sharply through the air at the whispery shapes in front of you. They haven’t quite formed yet, which makes them even more dangerous. You don’t know where they are.

“Keep moving.” You back up towards the house, one hand pushing Lockwood on as he argues against your holding of his weapon. Well, he shouldn’t have gotten himself into this bad of a shape then.

An eerie dread crawls up the back of your neck, tickling the hairs on your neck. They’re getting closer; you can feel it like a sixth sense, creeping under your skin and pushing the blood in your veins to move faster. You can see the front door, you’re just two houses down but Lockwood just can’t move fast enough.

You push him for one last time, before spinning around to take a stance, rapier held high, right foot forward. And swipe. The shimmery figure splits in two, but its place is soon taken by the next one.

You react on muscle memory, feigning to the left and slicing high as you duck the ghostly hand reaching out towards you.

Swipe. Stab. Slice.

It’s a rhythm you easily fall back into, too easily for how long you’ve been out of the field. And you mentally thank Kipps for still forcing you to spar with him when you had the time.

You glance back at Lockwood, seeing him hobble up the path to the house. A sharp screech sends your blade out, cutting through the figure that was inches from touching you.

“I’m in,” he hollers, and you don’t let your concentration falter, slicing through the figures with ease as you whirl around, blade flashing in the lamplight. Right. You need to make a run for it. But they just keep coming.

At least they’re weak, traces, rather than more solidly formed ghosts. And definitely Type Ones, which were easy enough to handle.

Your blade swishes back and forth as you hold them at bay, backing up towards the house as quickly as possible. You’ve blocked the sounds they’re making, hearing but not registering, their screams too awful to dwell on.

When your back hits the wall in front of the house, you put one hand behind you to feel your way along, fingers trailing along the cold brick until they meet open air. And that’s when you turn and run, skidding to a halt only once you’re over the threshold.

Lockwood has an impassive look on his face, brow slightly wrinkled and you smile weakly at him.

“I know you,” he murmurs. And you freeze.

[yellowjacketsfashion]

We know Lottie steal a lot from Tj Maxx but does she actually uses It?

Important question lmao

In regard to Lottie stealing from T.J. Maxx and whether or not costumes would feature some of these stolen pieces, this is what costume Marie Schley had to say on the Yellowjackets Buzz podcast (Schley is indicated by the italics):

“Were you surprised when you caught up on the episodes in between about Lottie’s T.J. Maxx, Revelation? And will we potentially see that pay off a little bit and perhaps some odd clothing she has in the future?”

“Wait a minute, I don't even remember that! Refresh my memory.”

“When they're doing the confessions and Laura Lee is saying she thinks she caused the plane crash because she called her piano teacher the c-word in episode two Lottie says she steals T.J. Maxx clothing and then returns them for store credit and she has like an insane stash of TJ bucks.”

“Oh, that's hilarious. I do remember that now. Um.. I guess so? What.. um now you’re making me think.. How would l, you know… show that visually? I guess she’d have the clothes.”

“I just think it’s amazing in the 90s the scams that kids were able to get away with. Um but -“

“Yeah and I love that they refer (to) that because shoplifting is such a teen girl thing. It's so- it's like a rite of passage.”

Some of the brands Lottie wears seem like they would’ve been available at T.J. Maxx (like Tommy Hilfiger) so in theory they could be from the store. There’s also nothing said canonically whether or not she wears the stolen clothes so I think it really depends on how you interpret the character.

But in reality, I’m not sure how many (if any) pieces Lottie has that were actually purchased from T.J. Maxx. Due to the necessity of the costume department needing multiple of the same item, I’m not sure how likely it is that they would have shopped at a T.J. Maxx. Especially because the store sells overstocked stuff and doesn’t always have a lot of the same item.

Ultimately I can’t confirm it either way but hopefully this is helpful!

(the gif is from @cristinaricci)

[ruporas]

Question if we are unable to get a Vash plushie the first time round will there be a second chance at a later date possibly? (Like how the chance to adopt miniwoo came back)

I’ll have leftover sales sometime after the shipping is completed for this round of Mini Vash, so there’ll be a limited opportunity to adopt him again with the overstock + B grades.

But after that, I don’t have plans to open a second round of preorders again for him or Mini Woo since it’ll be less likely I’ll hit the minimum orders again!

[modern-alebrije]

ok so, this is the doll aisle at my local walmart:

you've got barbara...

...disney princesses and the mga family of brands...

...trolls and young miss pocket...

... and assorted others. and that's pretty much it as far as fashion dolls are concerned. this has been the layout for months now, maybe even for the past year or so. monster high has been completely absent.

but, if you swing over to the clearance aisle...

owo what's this? core refresh draculaura? first released october of 2023?

i have so many questions: does this walmart continue to get shipments of new monster high dolls and just doesn't shelf any of them? is this walmart where overstock from other stores go? does mh just not sell well in my area specifically so they dont stock it?

[blue2jay]

Cravings Chaos

Summary:In the middle of the night, pregnancy cravings strike, and Leon rushes out to fulfill your unusual request for pickles and whipped cream. Returning with a hilarious overstock of snacks, he ensures your craving is more than satisfied, leaving both you and the dogs delighted as the night ends in laughter and love.

Cravings Chaos

The clock read 2:13 a.m., and the cabin was quiet except for the soft sound of Lucky snoring and the crackling of the fire Leon had kept burning low. You were curled up on the couch in one of Leon’s oversized hoodies, one hand resting on your growing belly as you tried to focus on the late-night movie playing on the TV.

But you couldn’t.

The craving hit you like a freight train. Pickles. No, wait—pickles with whipped cream.

You groaned softly, leaning your head back against the couch. This wasn’t the first time pregnancy cravings had struck at an ungodly hour, and Leon—bless him—had become quite the expert at fulfilling them.

Leon, who had fallen asleep in the armchair with Zeus sprawled at his feet, stirred when he heard your groan. His eyes blinked open, and he sat up, instantly alert.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep.

“Nothing… just… craving pickles,” you admitted sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

He raised an eyebrow, already halfway out of the chair. “Pickles? That’s doable.”

“With whipped cream,” you added, biting your lip.

Leon froze, his face a mix of confusion and amusement. “Pickles… and whipped cream?”

You nodded, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

Leon chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his keys from the table. “You know, I’d question your sanity, but you’re carrying my kids, so I’ll just roll with it.”

Zeus perked up as Leon stood, his tail wagging as if he wanted to join the mission.

“Stay,” Leon said firmly, scratching behind Zeus’s ears. “Keep Mama company.”

The Snack Hunt

Leon returned an hour later, his arms full of grocery bags. You had dozed off on the couch, but the sound of the door opening made your eyes flutter open.

“Mission accomplished,” he said, grinning as he set the bags on the counter.

“You found pickles and whipped cream?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, I found more than that,” Leon replied, pulling out jar after jar of pickles. “Dill pickles, bread-and-butter pickles, even spicy pickles. And, of course, whipped cream.”

You laughed, sitting up as he continued unpacking. “Leon, this is enough pickles for a month!”

“Hey, I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want,” he said defensively, pulling out other snacks: chips, chocolate bars, a tub of ice cream, and even a small jar of olives.

“Leon, I didn’t ask for all this!” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

He shrugged, giving you a boyish grin. “I figured I’d cover all bases. Plus, Zeus might want to share.”

At the mention of his name, Zeus trotted over, sniffing curiously at the bags. Lucky followed, wagging his tail as Leon pulled out a bag of dog treats.

The Midnight Feast

Leon grabbed a bowl, squirting whipped cream into it and setting it next to an open jar of pickles. He carried it over to you like it was a gourmet dish.

“Your royal feast, milady,” he said, bowing slightly.

You laughed, taking the bowl and setting it on your lap. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he teased, sitting beside you.

You dipped a pickle into the whipped cream, hesitating for a moment before taking a bite. The combination shouldn’t have worked, but somehow, it was exactly what you wanted.

“Oh my God,” you said through a mouthful. “This is amazing.”

Leon laughed, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Glad I could deliver.”

Zeus and Lucky settled at your feet, their eyes on the snacks as if they were silently rooting for leftovers.

The Aftermath

By the time you finished, the coffee table was littered with empty snack wrappers, and you were leaning against Leon, your belly full and your heart warm.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmured, your eyes growing heavy with sleep.

“Not too good,” Leon replied, kissing your temple. “Just enough.”

As the fire crackled and the dogs snuggled closer, you drifted off, content in the knowledge that Leon would always be there to satisfy your cravings—no matter how ridiculous they might be.

[catmask]

HI i love ur art and i hope ur having a wonderful day!!

Also i had a lil question, i was wondering if i missed the sale on the laika's comet charms? I hope the question's not annoying since the dates were in the post but i just have a bit of a bad memory :")

Thank u !!

not annoying at all - the initial charm presale is over, but once the order i got comes in and we ship out everyone from the presale ill be putting a limited stock back in the shop!

as a habit i try not to order much more than im fully confident we will sell, both for economical and environmental reasons. this time though, i did order some overstock because i saw a lot of people say they wouldnt be able to make the presale but wanted to get a charm in the future.

i ordered extras of all three charms, so once they're up ill make an announcement here that the shop has restocked!

[pfhwrittes]

Bless you for offering to help us non-uk people if I could manifest a plate of cookies on your nearest flat surface I would. (But I'll settle for sending you something over Kofi)

Anyways, 2 probably dumb questions but. How frequent are fences around like manor or older houses is it even a thing? Does Waterstones have really tall bookcases where they might store overstock on an upper shelf?

Ok love you bye enjoy the sun, I'll be hiding from the deadly laser as I burn like the cave dwelling bog hag I am.

hi friend! it's my pleasure to help you. it really is! (also i just found your other ask from a few days ago buried at the bottom of my askbox and i am cringing at myself for forgetting to reply.)

(also ahhhhhhhh! thank you, that is very kind of you!)

there are NO dumb questions, i promise. you don't know what you don't know. and hopefully i can fix that for you.

so firstly, it depends on the era of the house, who owned it, whether or not the land around the house is still owned by the same family, and the condition of the house. i recognise this is probably a DEEPLY unhelpful answer BUT you can assume that in most cases, yes there will be some kind of fence/hedge to mark the boundary of property. you're waaaay less likely to see a huge well maintained wall around older manor houses because of the laws we have regarding the preservation and protection of historical houses and lands. that's more of a nouveau-riche thing to have giant walls and obvious signage to say "TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED". (in my experience it's very easy to causally wander onto the grounds of the local gentry's property and get yelled at by a man wearing tweed and walking a brace of labradors. oxfordshire is a special place.)

also, in most cases, manor houses have a vast amount of land attached to them. and i mean vast. for each manor house you can safely assume that the family that was "gifted" the house by whichever reigning monarch at the time has or had control of the local village, at least two farms, and a church.

secondly, my ex-stockroom person eyeball just twitched violently at the thought of unsafe stock practices. in practice, the answer should be a categorical no. books (as in, in their multiples) are heavy as fuck and should never be stocked/overstocked at height. ever.

in reality, i'm sure that somewhere out there, there are unsafe stock practices happening and it's making my palms itch at the thought. honestly, it depends on the size of the store, the stockroom, the diligence of management and of staff members to ensure safe working practices. health and safety laws were written in the blood spilled of our not so distant ancestors and you will learn that when a book avalanche lands on your head and causes a concussion. or when a customer gets bonked on the head and complains to management so you have to fill out waaaaay too much paperwork.

(to the man in B&Q who got doused in forest green fence paint, i'm sorry that happened to you but in my defence, i wasn't the one to stock that shelf. i was trying to fix the issue, i promise.)

[townofcadence]

" Be honest...like WHAT is your hair care routine because that looks like a lot of time and effort and the results are pretty amazing. "

Be Honest....

"Haha-- Everyone asks this question, but I promise it's really nothing special. I just use that special shampoo and conditioner my roommate overstocks my bathroom with, and then I use a special brush that helps with tangles and let it air-dry! The only other thing I do is chop it all off regularly. I guess that keeps the split ends to a minimum, probably?"

[pan-flute-skeleton]

More Info about Vivi in Milo

I've been referring to her as Yugo Nora!Vivi to keep myself on track. I was talking with @cruisingheightswithdragons about her life in the world of Milo and other features of the trade towns. Wanted to drop some short story bits related to @yugonora-comic

Bonus tavern references

~ The Siren's Song's wines range in price. Bottles can be sold for as low as 10 silver shells. The most expensive wine they make, Coral Dream, is a spring seasonal and the only sweet wine they sell. It goes for 300 silver shells due to the limited amount of grapes they have to make the wine with. It's been told that it tastes like cotton candy.

~ There is a rumor in Tailwind that Vivi is actually part sea monster herself due to the fact she is unstable on her feet. Her attack caused her nerve and muscle damage which affects her balance and gait. Vivi shakes these allegations, but does take comfort in being near the water. She wears thick, supportive boots to hide her injuries.

~ Vivi is part of a economics council. She has two main colleagues. Alice who takes care of exports and Stefan who takes care of the internal economy of Tailwind. All three of them work with Lord Blodogtårer. They report their findings to him and do their best to fulfill any of his requests. The Lord is a progressive Lord and knows they need to make agreements with neighboring towns in order to expand their manufacturing. Has some questionable ideas, but his thought process is only for the betterment of Tailwind.

~ Each night, she prays to the god Nydal and drinks chamomile tea with honey in his honor. In hopes that his spirit will heal her or ease her symptoms enough to get through the next day. Vivi has done this for so long and deep down she doesn't think it will ever work. But it has become her nightly routine.

~ Vivi supports the proposal for trade routes with Stone Yard. She's looking to update her infrastructure but the contractors do not have enough resources to go around. In order to have some extra funds, Vivi makes it a point to crack down on overspending and overstocking in the imports department. That way they have some money to put down should it be needed.

~ Her lover is a traveling musician. A blonde, blue eyed man with guitar skills who is adored across the land. She doesn't see him much, but bore his child anyway. Their son, Anders, is around Yugo Nora's age and helps his mother around the tavern. He aspires to be Tailwind's next lorekeeper.

~ Some citizens of Tailwind do NOT support the trade route with Stone Yard because they believe it will destroy and change their idyllic community. Vivi makes little points to reason with her neighbors like pointing out collapsing roofs and rocky roads. A few change their mind, most are set in their ways.

Okay I think that's enough for now. I'll come back later when more ideas come through.

[betta-butch]

Hi! I love your blog. Please may I have some advice?

I have a 90l community tank that is currently stocked with kuhli loaches, corydoras, endler guppies and neon tetras. The guppies breed fast so there's obviously a lot. I don't want to overstock, but I was thinking of getting a bristlenose pleco to combat the green hairy algae. Would this work in my tank?

Also it's currently gravel substrate because when I set it up I didn't know kuhli loaches were meant to have sandy substrate. They've been doing okay, and are fairly active, but I wanted to know if it's worth it to make the move to a different substrate.

Thank you!

hi! thanks for reaching out, I’ll start with your pleco question! while you didnt say how many of each fish you have, with basically all of them being schooling fish, I imagine you’re likely extremely close to or at capacity for that tank. bristlenose plecos are known to be little poop machines so I would be worried about the bioload being a bit much with current stocking of your tank.

I think I would recommend looking into your lighting (how long is your light on each day? is there sunlight hitting the tank?) & checking your parameters as excess nutrients can contribute to algae growth. if you still want some extra help with the algae, I would recommend giving a nerite or a little group of amano shrimp a try. they both have a much lower bioload and are generally pretty good at helping out with algae.

as for the substrate, how do the barbels of the corys and kuhlis look? are the rocks smooth or are they a little sharp and jagged? if you don’t want to strip down your tank (totally understandable—it’s a lot of work and there’s a lot of beneficial bacteria in your substrate), you may be able to add some sand to your existing substrate, though there is a chance that it will get snarfled around by the corys and kuhlis. I’m sure that some other people have also been there and would be happy to chime in.

I hope this helps, good luck and say hi to your fish for me! 🐟

[wezleii]

so I’ve been looking at your custom action figure posts and I think they’re amazing! I’ve recently started doing the same for MCU characters I can’t find or are too expensive but was using action figures from my Star Wars collection I generally don’t want anymore. which leads to my question of where do you normally get the figures you use to custom from? I’ve tried looking on eBay with little success. anyways, your work is inspiring. Keep it up. 👍🏽

Thanks for the kind words! It makes me happy when people say my work is inspiring, so thank you.

It's no wonder you have trouble finding figures on eBay. That site is good for some specific things you may want to look for, but I'd avoid it if you're going for the cheaper side since it's riddled with price gougers.

Starting with online sources, the two best sites for low prices are Walmart.com and Amazon. They frequently run sales on action figures in order to cycle older stock, so generally the products that are left are either items that didn't sell well initially or overstock items. As a result, most of the prices for action figures range anywhere from $9-$12 and even lower in some cases. The best way to keep track of when sales happen is to follow a toy news and deal social media account. I'll list some of the best and most reliable ones below.

Now the best retail stores for deals are going to be Walmart, Target, and Game Stop. All three stores are seemingly in a constant state of wanting to cycle out product, so you have a good chance to find good figures of any variety in their clearance sections respectively, however prices may vary depending on the store. Game Stop is a especially good location though since they frequently run deals on clearance items like buy one get one, and if you have an account with them you could potentially get items even cheaper than the reduced price.

Lastly I'd recommend any local Comic Shop or privately owned toy store for potential deals. It's common for collectors to sell access figures they may have or even whole collections to those type of businesses. Most modern Comic Shops have sections with used figures of all verities that are typically listed for a lower second hand rate. This, of course, depends on the store.

I hope you find this information helpful, and I hope I'll get a chance to see some of the things you'll make :)