#paradise motel week

[bunnysbrainrot]

A Lesson in Manners

Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader

Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.

Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.

The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.

That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"

Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.

Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.

"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"

Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"

Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."

"Cas?"

"If we could even get a hold of him."

"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.

Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."

You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.

He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.

Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.

"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.

You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.

Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.

You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."

Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."

Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.

You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.

Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?

After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.

Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.

The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.

At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.

“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”

Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.

“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.

Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.

“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.

The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.

You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”

He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.

“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.

Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.

Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.

Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”

The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.

Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.

Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.

Until suddenly, you had company.

“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”

The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.

Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.

“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.

You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.

“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.

You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”

“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”

Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”

Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.

Before crossing a crucial line.

A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.

“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.

The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.

Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.

“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.

In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.

The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“

He didn’t react to your objection.

Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.

A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.

You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.

Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.

What a night, right?

It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.

“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”

——

“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.

Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.

Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”

You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.

“Let’s getcha home.”

Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!

[rebelliousstories]

Restored Once More

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 908

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Once Gambit had gotten back to his own timeline, he was certain there was only one thing he wanted to do, and with only one person.

Consider Donating: Here

Slow mornings were not something that came often for a member of the X-Men. Their lives were constantly full of danger and adventure. However that was not the case for the past couple of weeks for the couple. In a motel off the beaten path, as the sun was just beginning to break the horizon, they were starting to stir. Tangled with one another, the pair had been sleeping off another night of partying on Bourbon street.

Remy awoke first, and looked down at the woman in his arms. Sunlight was just now pouring into the room through the windows behind him, which bathed everything in a warm glow. While his body was shielding the majority of the sun from her, some did peak out from around his shoulders which just barely touched her own skin. It was then that she began to awaken much like her lover.

Her eyes blinked open, and took a moment to adjust to what she was seeing. Gambit was cloaked in warm sunlight. It made him look angelic with the backlighting. A halo of light was around his hair, highlighting every little stray lock of hair.

“Good mornin’, chere.” Remy murmured in a deep, gravely voice. The rumble ran through his body and into hers from where they were connected. She always did love how he sounded first thing in the morning.

“Morning Remy. How are you so awake right now?” Her head was burrowing deeper into his chest which caused him to chuckle.

“Can’t do nothin’ to keep da Gambit down for long.” His retort was met with a puff of air being blown through her nose in amusement.

“Whatcha feel like for breakfast, mon amour? Sweet? Savory?”

“Can I have both and just eat you?”

“Nothin’ I would like more. But you promised us some fishin’ out in the bayous today. Please, chere.”

Remy nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck. She giggled as she felt the tickle of his stubble against her bare skin. He threw his leg over her, straddling her body, and continued his assault. Tickling her torso, the woman wiggled and writhed as she tried to get away from her boyfriend’s fingers. Sheets were thrown, pillows were tossed, and the two were rolling around on the bed like they were kids again.

“Okay, okay. Geez Remy, I’ll skip out on a nice breakfast so we can go fishing. You go start getting ready and I’ll make us something quick and simple.” Pressing a kiss to his lovely lips, she melted for just a moment into it.

“Merci, chere.”

With that, he left the warmth and comfort of the bed in favor for getting ready. For the past few weeks, this had been their routine. Plenty of slow mornings to wake up to the sun with nowhere to be on a set timeline. Being granted leave for a month following his return from the Void, Gambit knew there was only one place that he wanted to be and with only one person. Back in his home state of Louisiana was his version of paradise. He made sure that no Thieves or Assassins could mess with them during their stay as well.

As Remy hoped into the shower, he heard her groan as she, too, got out of the bed. His side was already starting to get cold but she did not stop to think about that now. Throwing on one of his discarded shirts, she strolled into the kitchen and began to make them some breakfast. It was a pleasantly cool morning, she noted, once she opened the window. Popping some bread in the toaster, she got to work on making her lover his favorite; spicy eggs and boudin. The latter being a treat that he did not get to have often living in New York with the X-Men at the school.

Glorious smells greeted Remy as he stepped from the steaming bathroom. With a towel slung low on his hips, he smiled to himself as he thought about his situation. Life was going great once more. Throwing on some jeans, Gambit left their room and headed towards the kitchen. He leaned against the frame as he watched his girlfriend cooking for them.

“Jus’ when I thought I couldn’t be more in love with you than I already am, chere.” His words startled her, making the woman jump briefly as she was at the stove.

“Whatcha doing without a shirt on mister? Trying to make us late?” She teased, flipping the eggs in the pan. Gambit just saddled up, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a few kisses to her cheek.

“No, chere. Jus’ wanted to show my appreciation is all,” came his reply.

“Well then, you can appreciate after breakfast. I didn’t make all this sausage for me, ya know.” It was then that he finally realized what she had on a plate that was now being passed over to him.

“Ooo, you spoil me, chere.” His smile was contagious, as was the kiss he placed on her lips in thanks.

Sitting at the table, they ate in relative silence. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but a rather nice and peaceful one. They were enjoying the calm, and the quiet. They were going to fishing later with not a care in the world. And no crazy big, world threatening, life ending peril to tear them down in their little slice of paradise.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

vacancy (between your legs)

pairing: chris x reader (imagining this with re6 or re8 chris)

cw: hate sex (they actually don't hate each other tho), oral, p in v, some degradation, incredible confidence in the pull-out method lmao

summary: you are on chris' squad and he's the captain, but you have the hots for him, so you push his buttons on purpose. when you bicker in your motel room, one thing leads to another and...

a/n: idk? i wasn't gonna post this bc i posted hate sex w/ leon, but what am i gonna do? leave it in the drafts? no

wc: 1.8k

It’s a dingy motel, but it looks like paradise when you’ve spent the last two weeks in a tent. At least they have running water. You get your own room because you’re the girl in the group, which everyone bemoans. You’re just one of the guys to them, at least, when it comes down to choosing how to delegate the beds. Chris lets you have your own room. He’s still the Captain, though, so when he asks if he can use your shower, you agree, avoiding the argument. When he exits the shower - just a towel wrapped around his waist, something you’re trying hard to ignore - he’s grumbling about how you used up all the hot water, and it doesn't really matter if that’s true or not because you’re both on edge and likely to explode at each other at any opportunity.  

“Wow, can’t believe you have the audacity to ask me to use my shower in my room and then complain that I used the hot water?” You’re only somewhat irritated with him, but your words are laced with bitterness. 

“Are you serious right now? I’m the boss here, and I could just as well kick you out of this room and have it to myself.”

He’s right, but it’s not fair. More importantly, you’re agitated. Exhaustion? Hunger? Pent-up sexual frustration that threatens to break now that the man you’ve been drooling over for years is almost naked in front of you?

“So what? You want me to say thank you, Chris, sorry, I mean, Captain, for being so, so nice to me.”

You know how much he hates being called by his first name out in the field, so you taunt him with it on purpose.

“Why do you insist on pushing my buttons?”

“You started it!”

“Are you a fucking child? Because you’re acting like one.” 

Chris would rarely fight a woman, but you’re not any woman. You’re constantly bitching at him, going against his orders, and you’re sexy as hell when you’re mad. Plus, he’s seen you fight - verbally and physically - and metaphorically, you’re entirely within his weight class. 

“You’re the one who started complaining, that’s all I’m saying. Can you just leave me alone? I’m stressed enough as it is.” “You think you’re the only one? I’m trying to keep my cool because one of us has to, and you don’t know how to hold your tongue.”

“Don’t keep your cool, then. Hit me with it.”

You’re not even into degradation. You just like the way his voice gets deeper, more gravely when he’s pissed off. 

“You’re a bitch, you’re a brat, you’re self-entitled, too stubborn to admit when you’re wrong, and you’re a goddamn pain in my ass.”

“Is that all? I thought you could be nastier than that.”

“Nasty? You want me to play nasty, huh? I would say that since you can’t do field work and you can’t do desk work, then maybe you’d be more useful on your knees under the desk, but you know what? More than anything, you’re disobedient, so I doubt you’d even be able to take cock like a good girl.”

“Sorry that I don’t fulfill your perfect submissive fantasies. Doesn’t mean I’m not any good on my knees.”

“Really? Then prove it.”

“That’s what you want?” 

Both of you are running on auto-pilot, completely enraptured by the thrill of anger and arousal. He wants to sink his teeth into your skin and you want to drag your nails down his. Flesh on flesh, hot and sweaty. The closest you’d ever been to sex was sparring. He had you pinned to the mat. You needed to pick a different partner because you couldn’t learn when you got dizzy every time you tried to train with Chris. 

“Yeah, I’ll give it a trial run, see if it’s worth it, and maybe if you can satisfy me, you can still have a job working for me.”

You stand there for a moment, stunned into silence, working on forming a sentence, but no words come out. Chris raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down. He isn’t backing down from your proposition. If it were any other man, you would walk out the door - not before spitting in his face or kneeing him in the balls, but this is Chris, this is different. 

You’ve wanted to sleep with him since the day you met him. You butted heads constantly because you were both stubborn and happened to be on different sides of every issue. Also, you learned early on that you got more attention for being obnoxious, so as long as you weren’t out in the field, in a life-threatening scenario, you intentionally pushed his buttons. He almost caught onto your little charade once. 

“How are you able to cooperate out in the field, but in the office, you have to argue with every word that comes out of my mouth?”

He’d gotten real in your face with that one. Hand on the desk next to him, cornering you so you couldn’t scurry away (not like you ever would). Most girls would’ve apologized to scary Captain Redfield, but not you. You went home and immediately grabbed your vibrator from your bedside table and replayed the conversation. 

He’s winning, but he was always going to win. You’re playing a long game that he isn’t privy to, one that you’d always lose. 

You sink to your knees. You’re a little sad that he doesn’t make you beg for it, but you go ahead with undoing his belt and getting his pants down his thighs. You presumed that he would be big - you thought you’d caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants once, but you couldn’t be sure, and what were you gonna do? Ask him? 

Once he’s down to only his underwear, your suspicions are confirmed. It’s a little intimidating, actually. Do or die. You take his dick out, only to find out that it barely fits in your hand. Sure, your hands are small, but you can hold a handgun. You struggle with bigger guns (and bigger dicks as it turns out). You lazily stroke him, looking up into his eyes, and he looks pleased - smug, really. For once, it feels like you’re on the same team. You’re both winning when his cock is down your throat. The only courtesy he gives you is a makeshift ponytail so you don’t get hair in your mouth. He doesn’t give you an ounce of sympathy when you choke. You look prettiest with tears in your eyes. He knows you’ll smack him on the thigh if you want him to stop - and you hit hard. 

Not today. You suppress your gag reflex and breathe through your nose. It isn’t the hardest thing you’ve done today. You fought off a horde of zombies that morning - sucking dick is nothing. You’re not new to either. 

You’re about to break Chris’ composure. You feel him throb in your mouth. But he pulls away in time. You won’t win that easily. Maybe you are still fighting.

You stand up, still in a haze. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are gonna strip?”

You walk backwards to the bed and let him follow you. You rid yourself of your shirt and pants on the way there. You sit down and take off your bra without breaking eye contact. You spread your legs before taking off your panties and start to touch yourself while he watches. He tries to hide how much the show you’re giving him affects him. 

You can tell he’s flustered when he pushes you onto the bed and says “Save the theatrics.” You think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he bites your bottom lip. Two can play the teasing game. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss and he lets you. 

He rubs his cock along your folds and says, “Are you always this wet?”

Around him? Yes, actually. You’re too wet for words now, so you’re lucky it’s rhetorical. 

He hesitates. Neither of you thought to bring condoms on a mission. 

“Just pull out,” you say, “if you can.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive-”

“Slut,” you say under your breath. 

“Me? You’re the one who’s spent the past year trying to get me to fuck you.”

You go slack-jawed. One, because the cocktail of pleasure and pain you feel when he slips inside you is heavenly and two because you realize he’s known you wanted this the whole time. 

“How’d you know?” you try to ask, but it comes out less than inteligible, covered by a strangled moan. 

“Like I said, I’ve been doing this a long time. Your little act was obvious.”

Seems like it worked out in your favor. Too bad you’re getting pounded into the mattress and can’t get out a clever retort. Your brain is useless, you’ve lost all words besides his name. 

“I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I’d known you feel this fucking good.” 

He lifts your legs up, and puts them over his shoulders. Your moans are almost screams. The pleasure is overwhelming. 

“Do you ever shut up? What’s everyone else gonna think when they hear you?”

They’re definitely going to hear you. It’s a good thing you don’t care. 

Chris’ hand wraps around your throat, but he waits until you nod - immediately, enthusiastically - to press his fingers down. You feel oddly safe knowing that he knows how to choke you out - you assume it means he also knows how to avoid choking you out. The pressure restricts your airways just enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

You’re finally a little quieter. For once, he liked you loud. Your constant complaints are a nuisance to his eardrums, but your moans are gorgeous. Chris’ other hand plays with your clit, bringing you closer to your peak. 

You have to cum first. There’s a split second where he worries you won’t and you’ll drag him over the edge first, forcing him to cum inside you. The disobedient bratty side of you takes over and you do try to hold out, you clench your inner walls just to watch his self-restraint falter. But the sight of him above you, his heavy breathing, swears muttered through gritted teeth, the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside you - it’s too much. 

Your back arches off the bed, your legs tremble and you soak the sheets as your orgasm takes you by surprise. Chris barely pulls out in time, cumming on your stomach as you try to catch your breath. You’re still shaking when he falls on the bed next to you. 

“Goddammit,” he sighs, “you’re great in the field and in the bedroom.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He laughs. “I never thought I’d say this, but please, just call me ‘Chris’.”

“I’ll remember that for round two.”

[weird-an]

It had been Steve's idea. 31 hours on the road. Billy had been driving like a maniac. Only three stops at ratty motels. Now they are there.

Billy has been so cold since the Mind Flayer. Now he feels warmer, the sinking sun still stroking his skin, chasing away the iciness the shadow left behind.

He's here. He's home. Toes in the sand and listening to the waves, Steve leaning against him.

"You wanna go for some pizza?" Steve plays with a strand of Billy's hair, scratching his head and tugging it a little.

Billy hums. He feels so... calm. He doesn't want to go back. He knows he has to, because Neil needs him around for a while and he can't afford to stay away longer than a week. But this week? A week in San Diego, fucking paradise.

They sit down at a corner table, Billy is stretching his limbs and jawns.

Steve snorts. "You're like a cat sometimes."

"'m not," Billy says, staring at the little menu in front of him.

"You are. You sit on furniture, your hair is everywhere, you purr.."

"I'm not a cat." Billy hits him with the menu. Not hard.

Steve snickers. "Totally."

A voice from a past he can't forget suddenly starts to speak. "Welcome! We make everything fresh here at Surfer Boy, except for our pineapple, which comes from a can, but I still recommend slapping some juicy- Billy?"

Billy looks up. Argyle stares back at him. The same Argyle he kept running around with years ago, before Neil felt social services and too many debtors breathing down his neck and brought Billy to the dump that calls itself Hawkins. To the monster that took everything from Billy - his body, his mind - and nearly his life.

"Argyle?" Billy clutches the menu in his hand and suddenly there are strong warm arms around him, dragging him up and he's hugged so hard he can't breathe, getting lift up a little - because Argyle had always been taller and used it to his advantage.

Argyle lets go and grins at him. "I didn't know you were back."

"It's.. just a trip." Billy rubs the scar on his chest. He regrets wearing only a crop top. Argyle has to notice the scars on his body.

"It was my idea. After Billy's... accident." Steve stands up.

"I'm Steve." He says with a big plastic smile on his lips and oh fuck. He's fucking jealous. Billy never thought that Steve would be jealous. Something inside Billy purrs at that.

Argyle looks back and forth between Steve and Billy. He stretches his hand out for Steve to shake.

"Nice to meet ya, dude." Argyle gives Billy a goofy grin. "I'll get you guys the finest pizza in California!“

Steve watches him leave to get their order. "His hair is pretty."

Billy presses his knee against Steve's. "I know. But you're my…" He swallows against the panic in his stomach. He can't say it. He's always so scared that someone hears.

Steve puts his hand on Billy's knees, gently squeezing it.

"You're mine, too," he says. Billy feels lighter.

Argyle brings them their pizzas and a giant cake in the colors of a rainbow.

"Confetti cake is on the house," he explains. "Not every time you meet a friend that got lost."

Steve stares at him again. But this time more fascinated than jealous. "What are you doing after work?"

Billy blinks in surprise.

Argyle laughs and points at the joint behind his ear. "Sharing a smoke with an old friend and a new one?"

Billy feels so warm like he has never been cold before.

@harringroveweek

[kasdan]

𝐸𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝐹𝑢𝑟𝑦 {𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 9}

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a/n: so sorry for the delay in this chapter the time has just flown by me and before i knew november was over like damn halloween was just yesterday chill. anyhoo i hope you enjoy the chapter lovelies<33

Summary: frank gets settled into the motel and you wait for him to get better as things start to heat up between the two of you before settling as quickly as it starts

Pairing: frank castle x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, frank needs a hug, was quite literally twirling my hair and kicking my feet writing this

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter song: this side of paradise - coyote theory

The room grows quiet after Curtis leaves. My gaze focuses on Frank’s body on the bed, and I can’t bring myself to look away from him. Curtis said that he would be alright, and I believe him, but there’s still a part of me that’s worried sick, and I can’t understand why I’m panicking this much over someone who I’ve only known for a couple of weeks. 

David leaves a little bit after Curtis, claiming he has to get something back at his place. I try questioning him on if we’d be safe here, not knowing if I was tracked here from the house, but he insists that we’ll be fine as long as I try not to use much of my powers while he’s gone.

I don’t get much more in before he’s leaving, and I’m left alone with the still unconscious man in the bed across from me. I find myself staring at the rise and fall of Frank’s chest again, making sure it’s steady and doesn’t stop.

There’s a slight panic feeling in my chest on what I would do if he stops breathing, but I have to tell myself that he’s going to be fine, and it won’t come to that.

I sigh and fall back on the bed, not being able to bring myself to do much else. I lay on my side, still able to see Frank from my position. It’s not long before I feel my eyes drifting shut, the events of the night finally taking its toll on me.

I try my best to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss if something starts to happen to Frank, but my body says otherwise, soon falling into a world of darkness.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” I look at the green-eyed girl in front of me, who’s currently trying her best to make the piece of plastic she has as sharp as she can.

“We can’t live like this, you’ve never even been outside. Don’t you ever wonder what life outside this building is?” I admit that I’ve wanted to know what the outside was like ever since the girl came in and started raving about it. I just don’t think this plan is the best thing we could do.

The click of the door sounds, and she quickly shoos me away to the other side of the room and hides the sharp object behind her. A guard comes in with food trays and drops one in front of me before going over to the other girl in the room to drop another tray in front of her.

He turns to walk away, however before he can get out of the room, the smaller girl is jumping on his back and reaching her short arms around his neck, jabbing the sharp object into his skin.

The guard jerks his body around, attempting to throw the small person off of him as his neck starts to bleed. I jump up and as quietly as I can, and I walk towards him, reaching for the key badge he wears on his belt.

I get a grasp on it before a hand harshly grips mine. I let out a sharp cry when I feel something in my wrist pop and look up to see the guard sneering down at me.

He manages to get the girl off his back, slamming her into the wall so she falls to the ground at the impact. I have no chance to try and check on her before more guards rush into the room and I’m dragged out into the hallway.

“NO, LET ME GO! ELLIE!” I start screaming as I’m picked up and carried down the hall. I can see three other guards around Ellie, dragging her in the opposite direction of the hallway I was going in. She isn’t moving and I find myself thrashing around in the grip of the guard holding me trying to get to her, but it’s no use and I watch her get dragged out of sight, not knowing it’s the last time I’ll ever get to see her.

I find myself jerking awake, the memory fading away in my brain. It takes me a minute to remember where I am, looking over at Frank’s body and expecting him to still be asleep, but I am surprised when I find his eyes looking back at me.

“You’re awake.” I find myself jumping up off the bed to his side. “How do you feel?” I sit down next to him on the bed, observing him to see if there are any immediate worries.

He doesn’t say anything, instead bringing his hand up to swipe his thumb across my cheek. I’m taken aback, and I realize that there were tears that fell down my face while I was sleeping.

I turn my head down to look down at my knee, his hand sliding off my cheek to fall to his side. I take my hand to rub the other side of my face to get rid of any other tears.

“Don’t.” Frank’s hand comes back to grip my chin, and I turn my head back towards him until I’m looking into his eyes.

“Don’t what?” My voice comes out just above a whisper as Frank lets his hand rest on my cheek again.

“Hide from me.” His voice is gruff, and he goes to talk more but ends up in a coughing fit. I quickly reach for the cup of water Curtis left on the nightstand next to the bed for this situation and hold it up to his mouth so he can take a sip. “Thanks.” I place the cup back down on the nightstand and go to sit down on the bed I was once asleep on before I feel a grip on my wrist, stopping me.

I turn my body around to see Frank’s hand around my wrist, pulling me back towards the bed he’s on. There’s something in me that’s hesitant to sit that close to him again, and I don’t know why. “I don’t want to hurt you.” I make up the first excuse that comes to mind: not wanting to be this close to him when I can feel my hands start to shake and my heart start to beat faster in my chest.

“You’re not gonna hurt me.” He insists, and I have no choice but to sit down next to him. My gaze falls to my lap again, and I start messing with my fingers, not knowing what else to do. “Hey,” he says, placing one of his hands in mine to stop their movement, and I raise my head to meet his eyes. “You okay?” I swallow hard and can only nod at him, not trusting my voice in the moment.

Silence takes over the room for a minute before I clear my throat. “I should be asking you that question.” Frank lets out a chuckle at my statement, taking his hand off of mine, and it takes all of my restraint to not reach for him to keep it there.

“‘M fine; don’t worry bout me.” It’s not so convincing when he lets out a grunt, trying to get his body to sit up against the headboard. I go to stop him from moving any further, but he just shakes his head at me and pushes himself all the way up.

He’s out of breath by the time he’s lifted himself up, and I find myself looking at him in worry, causing him to give me a short smile as if telling me not to worry.

“How’d I get here?” He looks around the room as he talks, taking in the unfamiliar scenery.

“I drove you.” His head stops looking around to suddenly look back at me as if I have two heads. And then he starts laughing.

“You,” he pauses between laughs. “You drove me?” He laughs until he suddenly cringes and holds his side, forcing him to calm down. 

“It’s not funny; I thought you were going to die.” Once he’s calmed down, his gaze softens at me.

“‘M sorry, darlin', it just caught me off guard. Wasn’t expectin’ you to be able to drive me outta there. ‘M proud of you.” He grabs my hand while he’s speaking, gripping it softly, and it doesn’t help my pounding heart in the slightest.

My mind isn’t working; I want to say something, but no words come out, and if they do, I feel they wouldn’t make any sense. I open my mouth to try and say something before my eyes glance over Frank’s torso, seeing the shirt he’s wearing start to turn crimson.

“You’re bleeding.” My body reacts on its own, immediately getting closer to him in order to check it. He tries to push me off and wave it off like he’s fine, but I’m not having it.

I lift his shirt to find the wrap Curtis put on him getting soaked through with blood, and I’m immediately reaching for the container that was left behind for this exact reason. Before he left, Curtis showed me what to use to replace his bandage with when he needed it, but I figured that David would be the one to handle it if it got to that point. There’s no sign of David coming back anytime soon, so I’ll just have to do my best to change them myself. This somehow makes my hands shake even more than they were before.

“I can do that—” Frank reaches out to grab the wrap from my hands, but I shake my head and pull it out of his reach before he can get a hold of it.

“I can do it.” I insist, starting to unravel the now-red old wrap from his abdomen, apologizing when I hear him wince slightly at my movement. 

I throw the old cloth into the garbage by the bed and prepare to put the clean one on, but I have to first wipe off the excess blood around the wound. I go to fill up the small bowl left by the sink in the corner of the room, bringing it back by Frank’s side to start cleaning up the wound.

I glance up to find Frank’s gaze on me, looking deep in thought. “What? Are you okay?” I go to pull away from his body before he quickly shakes his head, reaching for my arm to keep me there.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I can tell his mind is somewhere else as he speaks, his gaze drifting away from mine.

"What's wrong?" He swallows and turns his head back up to look at me with the most intensity I've seen in him. His hand finds its way back to my cheek, fingers grazing it gently, and I instinctively feel my head turning to keep his hand pressed there.

"I'm afraid." He just about whispers, and I have to comprehend if he actually said anything, but the way his eyes are piercing into mine, I know he did. I open my mouth to question him, but his thumb runs across the bottom of my lip, causing me to forget what I was about to say. "Of gettin' too close—wantin' to get closer." He lets out a soft chuckle while shaking his head, and I can't help but just sit there, wanting to know what else he's going to say.

"To tell ya the truth, you scare me." I can feel my face drop at his words, and I go to pull away from him, my head going to face the ground again, but before I can do anything, he shakes his head, keeping my head up to face him. "Lemme finish."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them again to look back at me. "The feeling I get when I'm with you—it scares the hell outta me." He doesn't say anything else, instead grabbing one of my hands and placing it on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat pounding, my own's rhythm not being far off from his.

His hand lets go of my wrist, but I find myself keeping my hand on him, not wanting to remove it from him just yet. Our eyes lock, and I have no idea how long we're sitting there for. Time seems to move in slow motion, and I can feel him pushing forward towards me, causing my arm to move backwards towards my own body.

Curiosity fills my features when my arm is the only thing separating our bodies—not pressed as harshly against it as it once was, but now just simply staying there. I can see the questioning look in his eyes as if he's debating something, but he ends up shaking his head and leaning his body back on the bed, turning his head to look at the wall.

"Frank-"

"'M sorry." Our voices are barely audible, and I'm not sure what just happened or what's exactly going on in Frank's head, but I figure it's for the best that I leave it be for now. Instead, I work on putting the clean wrap on his wound in silence.

@sleeperthelazy @hathay @lunaticgurly @casa-boiardi @mattmurdocksstarlight @stilldreaming666 @cherry-berry-ollie

buy me a coffee ♡

[artzychic27]

I imagine the fool’s paradise episode where the loud family did everything in their power to stop Luan from pranking them, only for Luan to prank them one by one until they got her back. So I imagine that happening with the akuma class, the science kids, and the recess kids stopping Marc by sending him away, only for someone to betray them, it probably be Nath to be honest or someone else.

Nathaniel: Looks like it's just you and me, Marinette. What do you say we go hide in the boiler room? *suddenly pulls his sleeve and checks something* Uh, wait. Um...uh, the-the roof is next.

Marinette: "The roof is next?” What does that mean? And why did you just look at your arm?

Nathaniel: What notes?! *starts licking his arm*

*Marinette grabs Nathaniel’s arm and sees it's written with all the places they went to in the motel and theit classmates got pranked at*

Marinette: Room 215, Hallway, Cafeteria, Damocles’ office, auditorium? These are all the places we got pranked! *gasps* You've been helping Marc!

Nathaniel: *Gaaaasp* Marinette! I am appalled you would think so little of me!… *He quickly takes her into the janitor's closet* Okay, I admit it! I've been on Marc’s scheme the whole time. A few weeks ago, he came to me...

*Flashback to Nathaniel walking home. He is whistling casually only to be pulled into an alley by Marc, sporting a malicious grin. He screams at the sight of him*

Nathaniel: *narrating* ...and said he needed an inside man to pull off his biggest April Fool's ever. It was a very sophisticated operation. First, we planted a fake ad in one of Chloé’s magazines. Then we set up a fake writing retreat. Now, that wasn't as easy. Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy land? Then I snuck off to lock the door. And, of course, Marc wasn't gonna miss seeing you all get pranked. The janitor? That's him. He’s been watching everything on the security cameras.

*During the flashback, when Marc checks the cameras, he takes off his disguise and laughs evilly*

Marinette: Nathaniel, how could you sell out your own friends like that?!

Nathaniel: I’m a weak man, Marinette. He knew how to get to me.

*Flashback*

Marc: *Kissing Nathaniel* Do this for me? Please?

Nathaniel: *Grinning* Y-yeah. Whatever you want.

*End flashback*

Marinette: … You make me sick.

Nathaniel: Okay, it wasn’t worth it. I feel terrible! What kind of person am I?!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Paradise: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Spencer finally meets your parents, but it doesn’t go as well as you thought it was going to go. Are you a bad girlfriend for letting your dad treat him that way, or is it completely out of your control?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

A small-town diner will have a lot of gossip that filters through, so it's the best place for information. You walk in with your two coworkers, and you're overwhelmed by the amount of people that are inside. This place is very busy for a place that's in the middle of nowhere.

"Be right with you," one of the waitresses says as she passes by you.

"It's not even lunchtime yet," Derek mutters to you as you three take a seat at the bar counter.

"The sign said people will travel for miles for Flo's Donuts," you shrug.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." The same waitress who passed you by is now behind the bar. Her name tag says her name is Betty. "Would you like a dozen to share?" You take out your badge and show it to her, and she realizes how serious this is. "Ooh. FBI."

"Ma'am, we're trying to trace the steps of a couple that may have been here a few days ago," Derek says.

"Darlin', I've waited on eighty-seven folks since we opened this morning. Somebody would have to come through here doing cartwheels on fire for me to remember."

"Would you take a look anyway, please?"

You take out the photos of the latest victims and show them to her.

"Huh! Well, I'll be. I do remember them."

"Were they doing cartwheels?"

"No, but I was. The lady left me a $10 tip for breakfast two days in a row. Nice couple. Are they in some kind of trouble?"

You don't want to give too much away, so you keep it sweet and short. Since the Gallens were here, then that means they were staying somewhere close by. Sherwood is a town that's on the east side of Lake Tahoe near the California state line. This area has over three hundred hotels, motels, and resorts. Penelope sent over every single phone number and address to everywhere the couple could have stayed.

Instead of going to three hundred businesses, you have to narrow down the list. Then, you'll be able to go door to door and show pictures of the Gallens in hope someone knows who they are. This process could take days or even weeks, but you don't have the manpower to make it go by faster.

At this point, what choice do you have?

It took all night to narrow down the list, so you had to pick this up the next morning. Everyone had been up late working on the list, so when you walk into the station the next morning, you see takeout containers everywhere.

"Morning JJ," you greet with a yawn.

"Sorry for the wake-up call."

"It's fine. I'm always tired," you wave her off.

"It looks like we've got a possible missing person," JJ says. "Ian and Abby Corbin were in Reno for the weekend. They were supposed to be home yesterday in San Luis Obispo. They could've driven right through Sherwood. They've already been missing a night. His mom's looking after their two kids."

"Call me when everybody gets here," Hotch says.

JJ turns to the table where all the take-out containers are, and she grimaces in disgust.

"What is this? Left-over Kung Pao chicken? That's disgusting." She picks up the containers and tosses them in the trash, and she notices the sheriff staring at her. "What?"

"The smell of Chinese food makes you sick, but you don't even flinch when you look at those pictures?"

JJ looks uncomfortable by his comment, and you're quick to jump in.

"JJ is the toughest woman I know."

"Thanks," she whispers to you.

"Here, eat this. This should help with your sickness."

You hand over a good snack that her baby boy will enjoy. She smiles and takes the snack gratefully. Soon, the rest of your team gets to the station, and the Sheriff gathers his men for the profile.

"Ian and Abby Corbin have already been missing for over twenty-four hours, which means we may only have until tonight to find them. According to their families, they left Reno yesterday and were planning on stopping somewhere for the night. They didn't use a credit card. Unless they travel with a lot of cash, the room wasn't too expensive," Hotch begins.

"They were not traveling on the interstate. That eliminates over half of our previous search," Emily adds. "It sounds like we're looking for somebody who works the night shift at a back road motel, and we think he's most likely in his early to mid-thirties."

"Why is that?" the sheriff asks.

"Abducting couples is an ambitious task, and this guy's had time to perfect his skill."

"He could be older."

"Don't get hung up on his age. That's the hardest thing to predict," Rossi says.

"What we do know is that females take extensive beatings from him. That, combined with the sexual assault, tells us he's a violent anger excitation rapist. A sexual sadist like this can't get off unless he's torturing and watching the effects on his victims," you state. "That part of the torture is psychological. This is another reason he takes couples. Chances are he forces one to watch his power over the other."

"Because only the women suffer sexual torture, he's likely a malignant misogynist. This typically stems from an extreme hatred towards a woman who was relentless in her psychological and physical abuse," Emily adds.

"How do you know the dad wasn't the abusive one, and he's just continuing the cycle?" the sheriff asks her.

"Only a woman could make him hate women this much. The idea of the 'terrible mother' is best illustrated in world mythology by the negative aspects of the great mother. Instead of nurturing her children, she destroyed him, and given this upbringing, it's highly unlikely he'd ever been in a relationship let alone been married."

"Since he works in the service industry, he's forced to deal with a lot of people. So, he can probably hide his aversion to women until he gets them behind closed doors. With that said, we shouldn't rule out anyone with prior offenses toward women."

"Given the amount of time he spends with his victims," Hotch says, "he requires a great deal of privacy. He may even utilize an ATV to get away from the accident sites, so the property may back up onto an off-road trail. We should therefore concentrate on the most remote motels first. Thank you."

It's time to go door to door asking managers if they had seen the missing couple. There are too many properties to double up, so you have to go alone. After a dozen people have told you they know nothing of the missing couple, it's already sundown. Everyone has been working their asses off, and it seems like you're not getting anywhere.

You make it back to the police station when everyone gets through their list. No one has any good news, and you're about to collapse from how tired you are. Hotch is still out, and you're about to call him and ask if you can take a break when you get a call from your mom.

"Hey, mom. Did you get my message?"

"I did, sweetie. Your father and I are in town right now. Could I steal you away from your job for dinner?"

"Let me ask. Send me the address, and I'll let you know if I can or not."

"Okay, sweetie."

You quickly hang up on her and get Hotch on the phone. He's not too particular about you leaving, but since your parents are down the road at a local restaurant and you've finished with your list, he allows you to go. If he needs you and Spencer, then all he has to do is call, and you'll come right back.

"Spencer, let's go," you say and grab your jacket.

"Where are we going?"

"To dinner with my parents. We won't be long in case Hotch needs us back."

"Meeting the parents, huh? Good luck, man," Derek says and pats him on the shoulder.

You two take one of the government cars and head over to the restaurant, and your parents stand when they see you enter.

"Mom! Dad!" you grin and give them both a hug. Your dad holds you for a tad longer than your mother, but you don't think anything of it. "I'd like you to meet Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mom and dad, Julie and Joey."

Your dad immediately stiffens up, and you look at him to see his eyes seething red with anger. He's trying to hide it, but you can see the underlying threat in his eyes.

"Be nice," you whisper to him before taking a seat in the booth with Spencer next to you, and your parents across from you.

"Spencer, it's nice to finally meet you," your mom says with a smile.

You wanted nothing but to enjoy dinner with your parents, but you can feel the tension in the air even without your abilities.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"So, how did you two meet?" your dad asks.

"We met at work. I had just started and he helped me learn the ropes. It wasn't until about seven or eight months after we met that we started dating." You think about Lila Archer, and how he was smitten with her. Man, that seems like so long ago. "He's a doctor, you know."

"Y/N," Spencer blushes.

"Really?" your mom asks.

"Yeah. He has three PhDs, three Bachelor's degrees, and specializes in statistics and geographical profiling. He's very smart," you grin proudly.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" your mom asks.

"I am."

"You're too young to be in love," your dad snaps.

Your dad stares at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looks at Spencer and holds his utensils with a grip so hard that his knuckles turn white.

"Dad, I can feel your anger. What is the matter?" you sigh.

"Nothing," he shrugs.

Your mom places a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off. You're not sure what's causing this behavior, but you try to ignore it. Even after the food comes, your dad still holds a sour look on his face.

"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" you ask, tired of his shit.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You glare at him, and he mutters something under his breath that you hear as clear as day. "Spencer isn't good enough for you."

You slam your utensils down on the table with a loud clang, and Spencer stays silent next to you.

"I love him, Daddy. That should be more than enough. We need to get back. Call me when you have a better attitude. Come on, Spencer."

You two slide out of the booth, and you toss down some money for the meal you know they were going to pay.

"I'm sorry, Spencer," you say when you get into the car.

"Don't be."

Still, you can't help but feel bad. You head back to the station, and when Derek sees the sad look on your face, he wants to question it. Spencer shakes his head at his friend, and Derek holds his tongue for now.

"Where are we at?" you ask, eager to get back into the case.

"Garcia found a connection between a motel handyman and Rebecca. They went to high school together. So, I thought maybe he was connected to other victims. It turns out he's not, but there's something else that all of the women have in common. Rebecca was found in a bra, a t-shirt, a skirt, and flip-flops. Johanna was found in a dress and sandals, and Melissa was wearing a bra, tank top, and jeans. None of them were wearing underwear."

"How do you know it was taken?" Spencer asks.

"Because they all packed it in their bags, but none were wearing it during the collisions. He leaves his victims in a car without their underwear and waits for them to be hit. A violent collision of metal against flesh. It's like the accidents are the final rape. This sexual aspect didn't show up overnight. This is something he's been building up to."

"So, this guy sees these collisions as some kind of rape?" The Sheriff asks.

"We know that an underwear fetish typically begins in adolescence with peeping in neighbors' windows. When that no longer satisfies them, they'll burglarize homes and start taking the object that arouses them."

"If they get away with that long enough, they become more confident. Then the object becomes the woman wearing it. That's when rape can occur. The one constant is they always take the underwear as a souvenir."

"Is it possible a pervert like this has ever been arrested?"

"There's a good chance a serial sex offender with an underwear fetish has been caught before."

"Right again, Agent Hotchner," Penelope says.

You didn't even know she was on the phone with the rest of the team.

"What is it, Garcia?"

"For the last two days, I've been searching through ViCAP for similar rapes and murders in cases that are still open. That has yielded me with diddly squat. So, I regrouped. I looked at some pictures of baby pandas. I went back in and I started searching for similar rapes and murders in cases that had been solved.

"Five months ago, this guy named Clint Barnes is convicted of five rapes that have been thirty miles away in Selbyville. Now, what's interesting, and by interesting I also mean icky and sad and wrong, is that Mr. Barnes only stole the undergarment of his last victim and she was beaten in exactly the same manner as our current victims. She was the only one who died," Penelope explains.

"The first four showed no sign of torture?"

"According to statements made by the survivors, yes. There were some questions about his performance. Things like, 'Did you enjoy it?'"

"That sounds like a power reassurance rapist. That doesn't fit his last crime at all," Spencer says.

"The last victim wasn't his. It was our unsubs."

"I'll push a rush through the DA's office," the Sheriff says.

With him asking the DA for the files from Selbyville, they come pretty quickly. He must know the DA for it to come that quickly.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[rreskk]

LONG HEADCANONS: North Yankton edition

Because I’m a sucker for the North Yankton boys :( I wish there was more for us to see. 

TW:  -Suggestive content (sexual)

-Trevor, Brad, and Michael claimed ‘paradise city- Guns and roses’ as their theme song.

-Trevor was pro at the macarena when it came on during clubs.

-They always got fines due to the damage the left after every motel stay…

-Once Tracey was crying as a baby and Amanda struggled to calm her down. Trevor held her and suddenly Tracey stopped crying and fell asleep. Amanda was oddly disturbed.

-Michael and Brad would get into drunken fist fights.

-Trevor helped shave Michael’s hair every now and then.

-They all kissed each other at least once… Some more than others *cough cough* trikey.

-Amanda mentioned she liked one of Michael’s friends before (Brad) and probably got it off with him, more than once. This may be the reason Michael held a grudge against him.

-They all shared the same clothes.

-They had to skip towns because one of Trevor’s one night stands recognised him from the newspaper after sex and called the cops.

-Michael was always the designated driver.

-Trevor didn’t have a legal licence until after North Yankton and Michael’s fake death.

-They gave each other small hidden tattoos. (As Michael would mention learning how to and writing his name on someone’s ass… *COUGH COUGH* TREVOR).

-They had to deal with Trevor’s mother once a month when she was released from prison/or finally decides to turn up after leaving… Again. She strangely adored Michael. She treated him like a son more than Trevor.

-Before Trevor was balding, he had a man bun (AND I STAND BY THIS).

-Trevor dressed all funky with the moustache because he wanted to look like this porn star he crushed on.

-(Now he unironically looks like a porn star without trying).

-Trevor was the first person to hold Jimmy and Tracey after Michael and Amanda.

-He fainted when he first saw Tracey (because it was his first time seeing a new born that is partially important to him).

-Bradley dyed his hair blonde because he was secretly growing grey.

-Trevor quit smoking months prior to prologue.

-Brad had a part-time job as a warehouse supplier but soon quit after Trevor invited him into his group with Mikey.

-Brad owned a pet snake and the guys would prank each other with it by putting the snake under their bedsheets while one of them would be napping. Safe to say it died after a couple of times : (

-They ALL argue over the radio when going on a roadtrip skipping towns.

-Following that theory: Brad’s a fan of 80s classic hits (pop), Trevor’s a fan of 70s new revolution of hardcore punk and heavy metal, Michael’s a fan of late 80s rock.

-Michael really wanted to visit Russia.

-They went on vacation together once near a seaside resort but fled after Trevor strangled a person in broad daylight. Apparently they insulted his burger and beer choice.

-Tracey used to call Trevor dad accidentally and Amanda had to ban him from seeing her for a few weeks. Michael also held a grudge on Trevor for that.

-Brad and Michael used to have snow fights… Aggressively and passionately. Like they imagined the snow to be bullets. Because they hated each other… Trevor thought it was cute (unaware as fuck).

-Trevor used to attract all the older women and he’d come home with braided hair and red lipstick marks on his cheeks because… Well, that 70s porno look clearly made him a heart-throbber.

-All of them were oddly strong. Probably used the gym a lot when in prison.

-Before Michael made it official with Amanda, Trevor would have a few long-term relationships that failed due to his mental health. When Michael announced his engagement with Amanda, this would make Trevor jealous and spiteful (because he struggled to keep relationships himself).

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES: 14

twin flames masterlist

WARNING: mentions of homelessness, rough times etc

W.C 3.5k

A/N: guess who’s back…. Back again. Sorry this took so long!!! 🫣

Oh my god. What happened to him? Why is he living on the streets?! Tears prick at your eyes as you frantically run to him, discarding the bags in your arms. “Eddie! Eddie! Are you okay?” You remove the vest from his head and move aside his blonde matted hair.

A mixture of suntanned, leathery burnt skin stares at you, “Hey this mine! Git yer own!” The appearance shocks you, it wasn’t him. This poor man was not your Eddie.

Your heart breaks for a second time. The temporary tape on your heart mending it together in hopes that this poor man was in fact Eddie, is now peeling back faster than a greedy child opening a Christmas present. You were upset but needed answers. The vest meant that Eddie was here at some point in time and either lost it or donated it, but you could hardly think that he would give it away.

“Wh-where did you get the vest! It’s my friends—where did you find it?!” you ask angrily, your mother trying to drag you back from him by your upper arms.

“Found it, fair ‘n square! Out by the motel off’d the innerstate. Jus layin’ there.”

“Thank you sir,” your mother says, cautiously handing him a $20 bill.

She guides you away, holding you and the bags as you cry into her shoulder. What happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured? Lying in a hospital somewhere? Dead? Where the fuck is he?

The ride home is quick considering your hysterical crying ended up with you involuntarily falling asleep against the window, waking to find that your mom was just pulling into the driveway. The ache behind your eyes is too much, pressing into your head like coiled springs in a mattress—ready to spring free from the weight of your tears and anguish. Throwing yourself out of the car you gather the shopping bags and head inside, your mother quick on your heels.

“Honey, are you— are you alright?” She asks, eyebrows knitted with worry shoulders sagging in defeat.

You shake your head back and forth slowly, letting the weight of today consume you again as a sob racks your entire body. “I just need to lay down,” you blubber through an overflow of tears. She nods and takes the bags out of your hands, guiding you through the front door and watching you rush up the stairs to your room. Flopping onto you bed, your mind spirals out of control.

Why? Why did he leave? Why did he run to Indianapolis? Is he okay?

A thousand questions split your head, scattering around it like lightning breaking against a blackened sky. Your heart aches for him, it feels like it’s in a blender, swirling around, breaking down its soft edges, making it a bloody valve smoothie. The love you had for him was deeper than anything you’ve ever felt, it wasn’t a first kind of love all pristine and painted with daisies. This love was deeper than that. The fact that he was gone now and you not only didn’t know where he was but he possibly wasn’t safe. The thought of Eddie dead, lying somewhere on a cold street alone, body twisted and broken made you want to puke. No thinking now. You run to the connected bathroom and puke again and again until there is nothing left. Tears cloud your vision as the memories of just weeks ago in this very bathroom invade your head.

[Lighting a few candles and moving your essentials from the shower over to the edge of the tub, you turn out the lights. You remove your panties and Eddie his socks, the only clothing he had remaining. Eddie climbs in and you climb in after him, wedging yourself between his long skinny legs, leaning back against him.

This is paradise. The soft flicker of the candles casting dancing shadows against the walls in the bathroom. Eddie is humming along to music only he can hear. He lifts your left arm up and strums a guitar on your stomach moving his left fingers frantically across your arm for the frets. He sings in your ear. ]

A smile breaks across your lips at how simple things were in that moment, how desperately in love with you he was. His simple touches, feeling of his hands in your hair. The memory now feeling like a drunken night, remembering patches of the truth, a black out of if this really happened or not. He was everywhere, all around you. There wasn’t a single place in your home that a ghost of him didn’t surround. You needed him, didn’t he need you? Didn’t he love you anymore? Didn’t he care about all the times you had in the short amount of time you two had known, loved, and cared for one another. The passion behind your love, the twin flames energy bringing you both together, fighting to stay together, for you love to last. Was that all for nothing? Steve going to rehab, Mike Wheeler shooting Billy?! All of that was for him to just up and leave? Cast you aside like a used condom? Wash away all of his feelings for you in the rain that night as he screamed and was tortured by his own demons, projecting them onto you? No. You needed answers and you needed them now.

You wipe your mouth and stand up, looking at yourself in the mirror, you had seen better days. The hallows of your cheeks were deepened, the sparkle in your eye hadn’t been seen in months. You turn the sink on and splash some water onto your face. You grab your purse and immediately head down the stairs, pushing yourself faster to get your shoes on, get into your own car and drive to Hawkins, hoping to catch Wayne before he goes to work.

“…I mean it’s a lead right?” you flew to Hawkins in record time, catching Wayne right before he was getting ready to leave for work, explaining everything you had seen and what the homeless man told you.

Wayne rubs his scruffy beard, pacing around the small kitchen, “yeah it is, I’d put money on it. Goddamn boy, what the hell is he doing in Indianapolis?!”

“I’m going back, I’m gonna find him, Wayne and bring him home.”

“Darlin’ you can’t go alone.” Wayne protests, “I swear if anything happened to you, your daddy’d kill me, and I’d never forgive myself. Let me make a few calls and we will go together.” He leans forward quickly standing on his feet and making his way to the old phone hanging from the wall.

Wayne calls his work and tells them he won’t be in. You had both agreed to take your car since there was more room. “I’m gonna fill your car up quick, call your folks and let ‘em know what’s going on, I don’t want them thinking that you ran off too, they don’t want to know what that feels like.” He blinks back tears and grabs one of many caps hung by the door.

After calling your parents and explaining to them that you were going with Wayne to look for Eddie, your father had agreed to call anyone he knew in Indianapolis to keep an eye out for him. You decided to call Gareth, the only other person who might know Eddie better than you or Wayne. All of you together knowing Eddie on different levels.

Gareth had agreed to go with, almost giddy at the opportunity. He rushed down to the Forest Hills Trailer Park on his bike, the wind whipping between the tufts of the moppy honeyed curls on his head.

“Did you see anything else?” Gareth pipes up from the passenger seat. You were crammed in three across the single cab of Wayne’s pick up chugging along to Indianapolis.

“Just the vest, and the motel the guy mentioned.”

“God what the hell man?” Gareth snips, “Sorry, Mr. Munson.” Gareth checked, an awkward look upon his face.

Wayne shoots a glance over at Gareth, shrugs and says, “have you met Eddie? He isn’t exactly Mr. Proper.”

Gareth laughs, “I mean I get you guys broke up or whatever but he didn’t just leave you, he left all of us. Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club— like none of it mattered to him, I’m gonna kick his ass when we find him.”

“Might have to beat Wayne to get to him first.” you smile softly as you look straight ahead, a smirk jumps across Wayne’s face.

You were so wrapped up in the way that you were hurt by Eddie that you hadn’t even given it a thought on how anyone else but you and Wayne were hurting from his disappearance. He abandoned everyone who loved him in Hawkins, anyone who had ever cared for him. It was sad, and you weren’t the only one who was clearly upset about it.

The drive wasn’t long, your car adding to the soft hums of some oldies radio station Wayne had insisted on listening too. The closer and closer you got to Indianapolis, the more worried you became, “Off the interstate?” Wayne asked, rubbing his scruffy beard.

You nod your head yes and intake a big breath. “What if—what if I’m wrong Wayne?” Tears threatening to spill over your lashes, as you wring the denim of your shorts. Gareth looks out the window, shuffling uncomfortably.

Deep in thought, Wayne tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. “We’ll just keep looking if that’s the case.” He smiles unconvincingly and turns his eyes back to the road.

The last thing you wanted to do was give Wayne false hope. He was hurting more than you were, impossible as that seems. The thought of burrowing a senseless hope for finding Eddie in Wayne made you physically sick.

The outline of the shady motel peered into view as Wayne craned the wheel into the parking lot, throwing the car in park and looking around at the office. “Well, this must be it,” Wayne says, peering out of the window. Neon lights of the motel were flickering. The parking lot was desolate, Eddie’s van nowhere in sight. Your stomach drops. “Let’s uh—let’s go find out what we can.”

Heavy footsteps move you all closer to the office following Wayne as Gareth trails behind you. The hotel was nearly run down, yellowing wallpaper sagging from the office walls, a fat lazy orange cat lays on the stained desk. Dying plants hung from the ceiling, decaying leaves scattered on the floor beneath them. A short brittle old woman with oversized glasses and a two pack habit thumbed through the yellow pages. Cigarette with a mile long ash hanging on for dear life. “Excuse me, ma’am?” Wayne asks with a stern voice, “have you seen a guy in here, about 20, longer brown hair, probably had a guitar?” He asks, “drives a two-toned van?”

The older woman thinks for a while, picking tuna from her teeth, “Room 38,” she said tossing Gareth a key, “and if you see him, you let him know that he owes for this passed week, and I’ll sell whatever he has in there if he doesn’t come back and clean up that mess!”

“Wait, what do you mean if we see him?” Gareth asks, “isn’t he here?”

“No idea, haven’t seen anyone go into or out of that room for about three days now.” She scowls, petting the cat as she feeds it the rest of a sad looking tuna sandwich.

“Thank you ma’am,” Wayne says politely, a slump to his broad shoulders as he heads out the door, hanging his head as he walks. The feeling of dread radiates through your body and pulls on your heart as you move toward Room 38. The broken slabs of sidewalk leading from the office to the door of room 38 are anything but comforting, the ‘3’ hanging on the door is held up by the bottom nail through the number, hanging slanted and upside down. Wayne quickly unlocks the door, eyes large as he shoves the door open.

The pay phone outside of Club Z barely worked, cords hanging on by threads, the receiver cracked and busted, more than likely broken from one too many slams against the pole it rested on, heartbreak on one end, drunken slob of a man on the other. Fumbling with a quarter he fits it into the slot, hammering the number he had memorized. Trying like hell to stand up.

He had tried so hard. So fucking hard to make this work, why wasn’t it working for him? Plenty of people left Hawkins and ended up fine, great even, why couldn’t he? He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was you who he saw when he closed his eyes at night, every single night since he left. The reality of his predicament weighing heavy on his mind, and his heart.

When it happened he just thought it was a stroke of bad luck. People get mugged in big cities all the time right? He would just have to get used to it, the busted up face? Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. Only this time you weren’t there with him. He continued on like always, trying to sweet talk the manager of the club into letting him play a song, asking the band who did play that night if they needed an extra guy on vocals or bass. Only to be laughed out of the club entirely. But alas, he had kept his head up. Things weren’t good but they certainly weren’t the worst. He still had a little bit of money from selling some of his extra amps. A couple cans of spaghetti o’s could last him two days if he planned it out right.

And he could have kept going, could have made it—wouldn’t have been standing here clinging to the phone and trying to keep from falling over. If it hadn’t happened again.

The second mugging he was sure his ribs were broken, he wasn’t sure how many were broke, but it was difficult for him to breathe. The wound in his leg was festering and in desperate need of attention, but he didn’t care. He had lost all hope at this point, only finding thinking of you made the pain hurt a little bit less, like the blood pumped slower when he concentrated on your face, made him stop thinking about all the bad shit that continued to happen to him since he had been gone.

He was at a stoplight thumbing his fingers along to ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’ when it happened. They came out of nowhere, whether he was too naive to see it, or simply wasn’t paying any attention, he had been blind sighted, punched in the head, and pulled hard out of the van, kicked into the ribs by at least two pairs of heavy boots, and then the final stab to the leg, ensuring he wouldn’t get up to chase them. As if that would be something he would do. They took the van and everything in it, some of his clothes, the last little bit of money to his name, and more importantly, his guitar. He was left bleeding in the street, blood painting the asphalt like a sidewalk artist with chalk.

That was two nights ago. And it has taken two full days to get back to this goddamn pay phone. He originally wanted to get back to the motel, possibly take a shower, lay in bed and then make his phone call, but he couldn’t make it that far. His energy was depleted. He just had a few numbers to punch in and then he could sit down. He wouldn’t hang up this time, he would wait for you to answer— you always did. He was just too chicken shit to say anything. But this time he needed you, needed help. Punching the last digit to your number Eddie felt woozy, closing his eyes and leaning back against the pay phone, not realizing his body is slipping down, fading into the sidewalk.

“Jesus.” Gareth muttered when the door to Eddie’s motel flung open. A quick scan of the room obviously revealed that he wasn’t there, but that he had been here at some point in time. The wallpaper was peeling from the wall in the corners, roof damage presented itself with pools of brown stains on the ceiling tiles. The shag carpet was coming up and tumbled in places that the adhesive no longer stuck to. The brass decorations clashed heavily with the warm copper and rust colored drapes and bedding.

Empty cans of spaghetti o’s and beer littered every surface, a carton of milk sat opened on top of the mini fridge, dirty socks, various band shirts and boxers littered the floor along with dozens of scraps of paper. Some just doodles of creatures from DnD others were song lyrics, scrawled across the pages in every which direction. A notebook and pen lay on the unmade bed, the mattress itself lay crooked on the mattress. Empty cigarette packs and a single guitar pic were on top of the tv. The room smelled like him, cigarettes and a hint of weed mixed with some cheap cologne. The nightstand held a telephone, a full ashtray and a book of matches. It was a mess. No wonder the old lady at the desk was pissed, it had looked like a tornado had come through here destroying everything in its wake and projectile vomiting it in complete and utter disarray.

“Let’s look for any signs of where he could be,” you decide, fumbling through the papers on the floor. Gareth started looking in the bathroom, finding nothing but strings of Eddie’s long mane stuck in the shower drain and crawling onto the sink like long legged spiders. Wayne looked through the pairs of jeans on the floor, searching the pockets for any scrap he could find. You adjusted the bed and took a seat reading through the scrawl of Eddie’s handwriting, laughing at how terrible it was.

The lyrics were full of pain, sorrow, the dark pits of despair of being alone. They were heartbreaking mostly because they were all about you. You didn’t have time for this right now, you quietly fold the papers and stuff them into the pockets of your shorts, wiping the tears away as quickly as they fall. Gareth fumbled around with his jean pockets, looking for a lighter, “anyone got a lighter?” He grumbles. You pick up the matches next to the table and toss them towards him, “gracias,” he chides.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck!” Gareth screams as he runs towards Wayne.

Wayne puts a calloused hand over his heart, “Christ you’re gonna give me a heart atta—”

“Look! Look!” Gareth is waving around the matches, like a child winning tickets at a fair. Wayne looks at the matches and grins, he tosses them to you. Printed on the back reads:

Club Z

Indianapolis, IN

‘Open 24 hrs’

Running to the office to get a phone book to find the address, Wayne and Gareth lock up Eddie’s room and start the car. You write the address down as quick as you can, getting a quick direction of where the club was from the older lady—you hurry back to the car.

Gareth sits in the passenger seat as you climb into the back Wayne wastes no time, speeding down the road to the direction of the club.

He’s swimming towards you. The closer he thinks he is the further away you get. Something's not quite right. Each time his head breaks the surface you’re standing exactly where he just was, waving him towards you, calling out to him. He tries again, but the same thing keeps happening. He’s pulled under the water, his lungs feel like they’re collapsing. He needs to breathe. He opens his mouth and takes a deep breath, expecting the taste of chlorine to fill his mouth instead it’s the sweet scent of vanilla icing, a hint of smoke, and Doritos.

His eyes flash open, and your face comes into view. Tears are dripping down his face but they aren’t his. He must be dreaming, how are you here in front of him.

“He’s awake! Wayne! He’s awake,” sobbing is heard from further away, but Eddie pays no attention to it. Only focusing on your face smiling at him, is this heaven?

Or is this hell? Surely you wouldn’t have come to get him, you wouldn’t have drove here to find him. How did you find him? No this is a fucking joke, a sick satanic dream. You didn’t want him, not after everything he put you through. Not after the way he treated you— left you at the end of your driveway crying like that in the rain. There’s no fucking way. This isn’t real, he needs to wake up. But you’re looking right at him and crying. So he must be dead. Your voice is fading in and out. He closes his eyes and paints a mental picture of your face behind his lids, a time when you were happy, a time when you were his.

Taglist: @munson-blurbs @gathered-moss @boomhauer @b-irock @sidthedollface2 @big-ope-vibes @syrennna @idkidknemore @creoleguurl @manda-panda-monium @tlclick73 @munsonficdump @brittney69 @strngrlytn @chloe-6123 @sweetsouthernbitchery @basketcaseeeeee @x-lunagirl-x @eddiemunsonshellfirebitch @trixyvixx @chelebelletx @lacrymosa-24 @nevermore66 @aysheashea @secretdryrose @punkwitchcosplay @chychy6

[alolynn-heart]

Starter for @touyatiredforthis / Touya

Go  figure.  The  last  order  of  her  shift  ended  right  at  the  very  hotel  she  had  been  camping  at  for  the  past  several  weeks.  Oh,  the  Hano  Grand  Resort  was  certainly  an  upgrade  from  the  usual  seaside  motels  she  tended  to  reside  at.  Even  her  own  pokemon  relished  in  the  fact  that  they  got  to  swim  around  the  nearby  waters.

Thanks  to  a  side  job  at  the  Dimensional  Research  Lab  within  the  same  city,  Lynn  was  able  to  scrounge  enough  poke  dollars  to  treat  herself  to  something  'better'.  She  never  thought  she  would  be  doing  research  again,  and  yet  something  did  tug  at  her.  She  reasoned  at  least  that  she  wasn't  technically  working  for  Aether  Paradise.

Ah,  she  couldn't  let  her  mind  wander  too  far.  She  did  have  a  delivery  to  make.  More  so  the  name  on  the  order  looked  awfully  familiar.  It  was  just  her  memory  tended  to  be  a  bit  foggy.  Perhaps  this  was  one  she  heard  in  passing?  Plenty  of  her  customers  would  often  boast  about  the  more  popular  trainers.  Especially  the  regional  champions.

Wait.  Things  did  start  to  click.  And  even  more  when  the  door  to  his  hotel  room  had  opened  after  just  a  couple  of  knocks.  "Ehh...so  I  suppose  this  is  where  Unova's  best  has  been  hiding  out  at  all  this  time  ~"  she  bemused,  the  bag  of  his  food  held  out  for  retrieval.  "I  can't  blame  you  for  wanting  to  take  a  break  around  the  islands"

[withlove-amber]

Love, from Hawaii

alden parker x reader

Two weeks. Two weeks in pure tropical paradise. (Y/N) had been chosen by Director Vance to help out the NCIS team in Hawaii with a case. It’s not that (Y/N) didn’t want to help out the team in Hawaii, of course she did. But she knew that if she went to Hawaii, she wouldn’t want to come back as early as the team would need her to. She wasn’t going to ignore a direct order from Vance, so she packed her bag, hopped on a flight, and landed in Hawaii. The first thing she noticed when she got off the plane, how calm all the employees at the airport were. Everyone working at the airport was so nice and calm, compared to the normal cluster that was the airports in DC. 

The Hawaii team needed help with the case, as they were a man down, and (Y/N) had experience in what they needed. The case only took about a week to close, and the more (Y/N) thought about it, the more she realized that she hadn’t taken a vacation since starting at NCIS. What better place to take a week-long vacation than in tropical heaven? She called Director Vance, and quite nervously, asked if she could take a week-long vacation. She was a little shocked at his response. 

“Sure. How long has it been since you’ve used your vacation time?” When she didn’t answer for a few seconds, he followed with, “The fact that you’re hesitating, tells me everything I need to know. The team will be fine here without you for a few days. If something comes up, we’ll call you.” “Thank you so much Director! I really appreciate it.” (Y/N) cheerfully replied. “Of course, (Y/N), have fun. Oh, and if you could bring back some malasadas, that would be nice.” “Will do, Director.” (Y/N) always knew the Director was nice, but she sure wasn’t expecting him to say yes.

“Hey, (Y/N), I thought you were headed back to DC.” Tennant said, as she spotted (Y/N) making a phone call to a hotel, asking about their availability. “I was, but-” “But Hawaii?” Tennant replied with a small smile. “Yeah, but Hawaii…” (Y/N) replied. “Right now, I’m looking for a hotel to stay at, that’s not crap.” (Y/N) said, slightly chuckling. “Why don’t you stay with me? And before you say ‘I don’t wanna impose’, you won’t be. How long are you staying?” “Only about a week. Thank you Jane.” (Y/N) replied, grateful that her friend offered her a place to stay, so she wouldn’t have to stay at a fleabag motel during her trip. “Of course, (Y/N). Anytime.”

Tennant made up a spare bed, and gave (Y/N) suggestions on what to do, see, and eat. At night, Tennant suggested they go out for drinks, to celebrate the start of (Y/N)’s vacation. After about a week of day drinking, night drinking, and hiking, (Y/N) knew it was time to head back to DC. Her last day in Hawaii, (Y/N) stopped at an ABC store close by Tennant’s place. She picked up souvenirs for the team, as well as Delilah, Victoria, and Gibbs. Even though he’s in Alaska, (Y/N) didn’t want him to feel left out. As soon as she landed in DC, she knew she was home. Yes, she needed the vacation, but honestly, she missed her friends. And more importantly, she missed Alden. Yes, they talked every night before she went to sleep, but she just wanted to see him, and to hear his voice. 

When she went back to the office to give everyone their gifts, she was happy as could be. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be back tomorrow!” Tim announced, going in for a brief hug. “I just wanted to drop these off for y’all.” (Y/N) replied, with a smile once her eyes landed on Alden. Alden looked up immediately as soon as he heard her voice. God, he missed that voice. Yes, he called her every night before she went to sleep, but he just wanted to hear that voice in person, and to hold her. She honestly took his breath away when he saw her walk towards the bullpen. 

She was wearing a long, flowy turquoise dress that had a deeper v-neck than she usually wore. Her hair was long and wavy, and looked a little brighter than normal. When she leaned over to give him his gift, he could smell her coconut and vanilla perfume. If he had to choose one scent forever, it would be that one. Her skin was a couple shades darker and he wondered if she had tan lines anywhere. He quickly tried to change his train of thought, because it was going in a direction that was not quite work-appropriate. He glanced down at her hands that were a fair bit smaller than his, and when their hands oh so softly touched he couldn’t stop the blush forming on his face, and neither could she. 

After she gave everyone their gifts (and the malasadas for Vance), he walked her back to her car, and asked if she wanted to come over for dinner that night. She enthusiastically said yes. She kissed him on the cheek, and when she went to pull away, her lipstick had left a mark in his beard. She didn’t say a damn word, wanting people to know who had left the mark. She spent the rest of the day unpacking and preparing for dinner with Alden. If two weeks was all it took for him to invite her over for dinner, she would have taken a vacation a while back. 

[electric-rabbits]

I love The Mountain Goats bc every once in a while I’ll randomly decide that a specific song of theirs is the best and I’ll spend weeks listening to it and then I’ll remember a completely different song to obsess over and the cycle starts anew, but anyways. You guys ever listened to San Bernardino?? See, there’s two things that really get me with this song, first one being how hopeful it is. John Darnielle is great at writing despair but even better at writing hope imo, because he writes hope from this realistic, almost pessimistic place. His hopeful songs are never about an ideal version of reality; they are about daring to hope, about hope as this defiant force that drives us forward. San Bernardino is a song about a young couple who’s probably homeless, who can’t afford a hospital room and so they have their kid at a shitty roadside motel; and still they are willing to try and build their own little paradise together. Not because they don’t know how hard things are, but because they know they have one another and that’s a lot to fight for. “We will never be alone in this world. No matter what they say, we’re gonna be okay.” And the other is my personal relationship with religion, specifically christianity. I was raised catholic, and while I never cared much for god, I always loved the saints and even Christ himself. Not because of their holiness, that’s the part that I never got, even before becoming an atheist; but because of their humanity. I loved the idea of seeing holy figures as flawed, scared, hopeful human beings, people like me and my neighbors and my friends. First time in my teenaged religion crisis when I felt like I could still cherish this humanity was reading a poem about Jesus running away from heaven to be forever a human child, and since then I search for these stories when I can. And San Bernardino is a nativity scene. The parents are a poor young couple, running away from a dangerous place and searching for a sanctuary where they can just exist, searching for the maps of the garden of Eden; and San Bernardino is a town, and it’s a saint, and it’s a manger. The child who’s being born isn’t Jesus but they are something far more sacred for that couple. They are both a blessing and a promise, and earth itself is welcoming them to this world. 

[oneforthemunny]

so i just went on vacation to a lil beach town with cute shops (but everything was so expensive i blew through 250 dollars and got like five things sobsobsob) and i can just imagine like janitor eddie or one of the eddies without lots of money feeling so ashamed that he can't buy you everything you want and you guys have to stay in a cheap motel because renting a beach house is pricey and he just feels like a failure and you have to comfort him

but i also imagine mafia eddie or rockstar eddie taking you out and you guys stay at a 9,000 square foot house and its so lavish and anything you even glance at it getting bought immediately

I don’t even think you would really want anything souvenir wise but janitor!eddie is adamant to get you something. he’s so sweet and tries to buy you handmade she’ll jewelry that’s wayyyy overpriced and you tell him not to. he’s feeling all insecure, even though he’ll be eating chef boyarde for the next week bc he’ll be so broke, so you take him to the shore to look for shells. laughing like kids as the waves hit your feet, sticking your hand under the water to wash it off and reveal it to each other. sand dollars, a half a star fish, a gorgeous pink shell that eddie found and you gasped so excitedly at he couldn’t help but boast. it was better than that overpriced shit bc you two found it together. the cheap motel aided to the “ambiance” you told him with a grin. it was pastels of sea green and blues and it was fun down, stuck in the fifties, but you didn’t mind. it was clean, it had a bed and a working toilet, and an ocean view (sans balcony).

mafia!eddie is taking you somewhere off the grid entirely. somewhere safe, under an alias. really to him, a vacation is anywhere that it’s just the two of you. a house in the mountains without neighbors for miles? paradise. a lighthouse on the coast of the north east where nobody but fishermen come by? even better. he just wants to be somewhere secluded where he can really relax.

rockstar!eddie goes big always but he wants to rent or buy somewhere with character. when airbnb becomes a thing??? omg he’s their biggest customer. the malibu barbie dream house?? fucking sick. the haunted mansion look a like house?? the girls love it. a hobbit inspired cottage?? you gotta be shutting me. eddie tries to buy it off the owner for an absurd amount. he loves cool vacations really. wants his girls and you (and himself) to travel and see the world. experience different cultures and ways of life and environments.

[b5popup]

Howdy! Hoping I'm still in time to submit a character list for this! :-) 1. Na'toth 2. Ta'lon 3. Vir 4. Captain Lockley 5. Zack Allan 6. Nelson drake 7. Zavik (a Brakiri oc) 8. Sil'xa'sk (a Pak'ma'ra oc)

:O!!! a pak'ma'ra oc???? be still my heart many tentacles!! 🐙️ here's your list of prompts:

2 & 6 - 'Ah, that's the way to die.' 1 & 8 - “Dreams come true.” 4 & 8 - Jumping to conclusions 2 & 4 - Confused 3 & 5 - 3 has just found 5 who's been missing for weeks. 7 & 8 - Rain 4 & 5 - If the road is easy, you're likely going the wrong way. 1 & 4 - Bulletproof hearts 5 & 7 - “Leave me alone.” 3 & 4 - Whispered conversations 3 & 7 - Romance is not dead (yet) 2 & 7 - Mourning all who we lost 2 & 3 - Ambivalence 1 & 2 - Vibrant 5 & 8 - Unique perspectives 4 & 6 - Either way, we’ll be alright 5 & 6 - Set the controls for the heart of the sun 2 & 5 - Our tattered hearts 1 & 5 - On the road to paradise 4 & 7 - a run-down motel room 7 & 4 & 2 - Were you ever planning on telling me about all of this? 1 & 3 - Here right now 6 & 8 - A little more warmth 1 & 4 & 5 - Everybody can leave me. I don't need anyone. 3 & 6 - Deceit 1 & 6 - flying a plane 1 & 7 - No love lost 6 & 7 - Ghosts of our past 2 & 8 - Pioneer 3 & 8 - the song: Street Spirit (Fade Out) - Radiohead

[cantuscorvi]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

what’s your phone wallpaper : "Salamander" by Yoshitaka Amano last song you listened to : Gold and Bones by Friday Pilots Club currently reading : There is a copy of The Brothers Karamazov languishing on my night stand for months that i'm shamefully yet to open. That counts, right? last show : The Sandman what are you wearing right now : Dark red trousers, an FF8 t-shirt, and a black shirt piercings / tattoos? : my ADHD ass has had my ears pierced in the exact same place 3 times, but they are closed and will probably remain that way glasses ? contacts? : nope, my eyes are good last thing you ate? : pepper lunch (japanese beef rice on a hotplate) favorite color(s) : mint green do you have a crush right now? : does it still count as a crush if it's been 7 years? favorite fictional character : (rolling out my list of killer blonds, sad old men, and little freaks) erwin smith (snk, character of all time tbh), kakashi (naruto), kotetsu kaburagi (tiger & bunny), james t kirk (star trek), will graham (hannibal), Magneto (x men), Quina Quen (ffix), Auron (ffx), Ocelot (MGS), Phosphophyllite (Houseki no Kuni), Ebisu (Dorohedoro) and of course. ALL OF THE WONDERFUL CHARACTERS WRITTEN BY MY FRIENDS

About the Writer

Favorite time of year: Summer Comfort food: i'm gonna be basic and say ice cream Favorite desserts: tiramisu is good Things you collect: I collect daruma and things with piske & usagi on them. Favorite drink: iced tea (chinese/taiwanese/thai kind) Favorite musical artist: honestly it depends on the day of the week. But ones that always slap; Ghost, Arctic Monkeys, IDKHOW, The Happy Fits, Fall Out Boy, Caravan Palace, Daft Punk, Eve, Saint Motel, MAMAMOO Last song you listened to: Fireside by Arctic Monkeys Last movie you watched: John Wick 4 @ cinema Last series you watched: The Sandman Series you’re currently watching: True Blood, Hell's Paradise (anime) Current obsession: Planet Zoo and the growing urge to chop all my hair off Dream place to visit: Japan, Switzerland A place you’ve been that you want to go back to: Italy Something you want: my inspiration to return from war Currently working on: absolutely nothing bc lately my brain is mashed potato

tagged by: @nezumivc103221 & @distopea

[starry-blue-echoes]

Ok rapid fire

Jojo Pose by Apollo Fresh ;)))

The Joestars in general: Light em up x Radioactive by Exostomp Music, Sinners by Barns Courtney, Glitter & Gold by Barns Courtney, Legacy by THINKTANK, Cannonball by 8 Graves, Children of the Stars by Bella Goldwin x Oliver Lie (they're the joeSTARS), Revolution by The Score, Larger Than Life by pinkzebra, Industry Baby by Lil Nas X, Red by Aviators (acoustic version), STAR WALKIN' by Lil Nas X, We Rise by Aviators

Golden WInd: Gansta's Paradise by Coolio

Stardust Crusaders: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears, Around The World by Daft Punk

Diamond is Unbreakable: No Lullaby by Siames

Jonathan: House of Memories by Panic At The Disco (him towards Dio if that makes sense), Warriors by Imagine Dragons, Witness the Masterpiece by GANYOS (man carries the whole joestar legacy on his back), Warrior Spirit by Samuel Day, FALLEN LEAVES by Miracle of Sound

Joseph: World at our feet by Timmy Trumpet, Can I Get A Witness by Sonreal

Jotaro: Crossfire by Stephen (all the shit that happened in sdc), In My Zone by Moody Mourad (his self reliance), Horizon by Amongst Wolves (Dio's influence over his whole life+his trauma), Ghost of You by Charlie PS (more dio trauma), Hey Brother by Avicii, I Am a Stone by Demon Hunter, Dead Weight by BRKN LOVE, Tough Guy by BENEE, Godhunter by Aviators (he kills Dio, which means "god in italian so), Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys (vibes), Freight Train by Smash Into Pieces

Josuke: Die Young by Kesha, La La La by Area 21, Listen Up! by Excuses Excuses

Giorno: Dare To Dream by Glow Beets (I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream,), Tidal Wave by Portugal. The Man (he turned the entire mafia in italy on it's head in a week)

Jolyne: Angels by Vicetone, THAT BITCH by Bea Miller (could work for Ermes as well), Hell No! by Mel Senese, Deal With It by Ashnikko (her avoidance of marriage to Anasui lul), Mother's Daughter by Miley Cyrus, Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

Dio: Making Love To the Dead by Beginners, Applause by Lady Gaga, Rituals by Jiovanni Daniel, Vampire by Lazyboy Empire, Bad by Royal Deluxe, Villain by Garvie, Liar by Jake Daniels, Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land by Marina, Oh No! by Marina, Villain by K/DA, Good To Be Bad by CRMNL, Phonky Town by PlayaPhonk (dio walk), The Cult Of Dionysus by The Orion Experience, Supernatural by Barns Courtney, Babylon by Dirt Poor Robins, Brad Pitt by COIN, The Rose That Poisoned The Ground by El Misti (he fucked up the entire joestar family), I'm Back by Royal Deluxe (him coming back in part 3), Forevermore by Ghost Nation, Don't You Dare Forget The Sun by Get Scared, The Greatest by REACH (there's a lyric which goes "the one with the greatest seed" and dio has like four kids lmao), Hypnotized by Set It Off (the flesh buds)

Wammu: Eye of The Storm by Watt White

(no Esidisi bc I don't know enough about his character)

Kars: Black Mambo by Glass Animals (vibes really), La Espada by Eternal Raijin, Bird by Joh Yoban

Kira: Slavonic Epoch by Tombstone (repairing the mistake he made of letting the enemy know his identity and fixing it), Houdini by AViVA (mans barely escaped getting killed. and he's insane), Hey Brother by Jakob Samuel ("your secret's well protected" "and the ghost under your bed so far away" "the devil's coming"), Faith by Karen Aoki ( ;) )

Diavolo: Dark Red by Steve Lacy (his paranoia towards getting his identity discovered), Play Dirty by Kevin McAllister (mentions the devil and he "plays dirty" by almost killing his own daughter to make sure no one finds out his identity)

Pucci: Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga, Preaching To The Choir by Alex Runo (he is literally a priest), Honey I'm Home by GHOST (religion in like. an evil way), Devil by Alex Runo (more religion), Creature by Half Alive, The Beast by Old Caltone (heavy religious vibes), Preach by SAINT MOTEL, Babylon by Dirt Poor Robins, My Church by Aviators (he is religious), Lust For A Vampyr by I Monster (dio follower)

Speedwagon: One Way Mirror by Christopher Kenji (mans literally had BLADES IN HIS HAT he was so inventive and had a lot of tricks up his sleeve)

Caesar: Rise Up by Smash Into Pieces (reminds me of how his life was cut short and he spent his last moments to help Joseph win), Put In The Time by Future Royalty (he put his all into hamon training), Curses by The Crane Wives (the zeppeli curse), All That Glitters by Earl (vibes ONLY), Skyfall by Adele, Blossom by Reckless Jacks

Kakyoin: Skin and Bones by Cage the Elephant, Brothers by SIAMES (his first friends with the sdc were like his brothers), Washing Machine Heart by Mitski (this song has the vibes of something dying too young), Take The Fall by JAXSON GAMBLE ( he dies to help the crusaders), Mountain Sound by Of Monsters And Men, Skyfall by Adele (both Caesar and Kakyoin get this song ok), It's All Happening by SAINT MOTEL, Cherry's Bent by STRAINJER (cherry), All Comes Crashing by Metric, Fish in a Birdcage by Fish in a Birdcage (kakyoin as a child being alone, and probably hoping to be surrounded by people that understood him)

Avdol: Exposed by Matt Fees, Pheonix by Fall Out Boys (fire, he basically came back to life), Fire by Barns Courtney, Grumpy Sun by Shannon Clark & the Sugar (vibes again)

Polnareff: Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes, Enchante by Dirt Poor Robins, When Honor Dies by Miracle of Sound

Okuyasu: Losemyhead by littleDEATH, Bang by Sir Sly

Koichi: Stockholm Syndrome by Sofia Karlberg

Bruno: River by BRKN LOVE (it has his vibes ok), White Lies by Max Frost (him to Diavolo), Dance with the Devil by Fame Cartel (the devil...LIKE DIAVOLO?)

Abbacchio: Hurt by Oliver Tree, Lovely by Billie Eilish BUT the cover by Beneath My Skin, Cold World by 8 Graves, Bittersweet by The Galactic Effect

Naranchia: D.A.N.C.E. by Justice (you know why)

Mista: All Eyes On You by Smash Into Pieces, Kick by Saint Chaos, Bullet by SAINT MOTEL, Roses Or Blood by Actice Captive

Trish: High Waist To Hell by Cloudy June, Bubblegum Bitch by Marina And The Diamonds

Fugo: Go To War by Nothing More (shows his anger AND Fugo was originally supposed to be an enemy spy), Bad Faith by 8 Graves

Ermes: Deal With It by Ashnikko (look it fits her too ok. it has her sass), Might Heart by Acid Arcade, My Time To Shine by UPSAHL, YES MOM by Tessa Violet, Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

F.F.: Wait A Minute! By Willow Smith (vibes), Jackpot by TheFatRat (more vibes), Bad Things by NOT THE MAIN CHARACTERS

Weather Report: Better Off Dead by 8 Graves (him after getting his memories back), New Depression by Mark Doucette (also him after getting his memories back), Lost by Ghost Nation (his memories are lost), Rain by Grandson (rain), Veteran of the Psychic Wars (he had his memories stolen which had a lot of trauma a stuff)

Anasui: Destination Unknown (the music video is explicit and when Anasui breaks out of prison he just follows Weather Report lmao), Beggin' by Maneskin, Come Back Down by Trevor Something (him to jolyne lmao)

Emporio: Saviour by Jennings Couch (him basically getting together the whole squad to save the day), Ship In A Bottle by Steffan Argus (survivor's guilt after watching all his friends die after failing to protect them), GOD OF FAILURE by WITCHZ (survivor's guilt again)

Songs I don't know what to do with but go somewhere: Eye For An Eye by 8 Graves, Freaks by Timmy Trumpet, Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier (I honestly just really love this song and feel as if it could fit someone in this list that is like...addicted to something and that's like their flaw or something. Maybe Dio with power), C'est La Vie by Weathers, Moonshine by Caravan Palace, Hold On by Unknown Chapters, Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison, Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage The Elephant, What, Me Worry? by Portugal. The Man, Menace by Rezz, The Wolf by Siames, After Midnight by Darren Day, Devil by Twice is Nice, Crash And Burn by Unlike Pluto, Bones by Imagine Dragons, One In The Same by BRKN LOVE, Let There Be Fire by Aviators

there's more characters I could've done but like it took literal hours to get all this so...anyway. lemme know what you think :)))

-ffa

I

I am in awe and absolute terror of your power because anon how the every living fUCK DID YOU FIT THAT MANY CHARACTERS I A SINGLE ASK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-