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agentromanoffsir · 2 years ago

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neocities guide - why you should build your own html website

do you miss the charm of the 90s/00s web where sites had actual personality instead of the same minimalistic theme? are you feeling drained by social media and the constant corporate monopoly of your data and time? do you want to be excited about the internet again? try neocities!!

what is neocities?

neocities is a free hosting website that lets you build your own html website from scratch, with total creative control. in their own words: "we are tired of living in an online world where people are isolated from each other on boring, generic social networks that don't let us truly express ourselves. it's time we took back our personalities from these sterilized, lifeless, monetized, data mined, monitored addiction machines and let our creativity flourish again."

why should I make my own website?

web3 has been overtaken by capitalism & conformity. websites that once were meant to be fun online social spaces now exist solely to steal your data and sell you things. it sucks!! building a personal site is a great way to express yourself and take control of your online experience.

what would I even put on a website?

the best part about making your own site is that you can do literally whatever the hell you want! focus on a specific subject or make it a wild collection of all your interests. share your art! make a shrine for one of your interests! post a picture of every bird you see when you step outside! make a collection of your favorite blinkies! the world is your oyster !! here are some cool example sites to inspire you: recently updated neocities sites | it can be fun to just look through these and browse people's content! space bar | local interstellar dive bar creature feature | halloween & monsters big gulp supreme peanutbuttaz | personal site dragodiluna linwood | personal site patho grove | personal site

getting started: neocities/html guide

sound interesting? here are some guides to help you get started, especially if you aren't familiar with html/css sadgrl.online webmastery | a fantastic resource for getting started with html & web revival. also has a layout builder that you can use to start with in case starting from scratch is too intimidating web design in 4 minutes | good for learning coding basics w3schools | html tutorials templaterr | demo & html for basic web elements eggramen test pages | css page templates to get started with sadgrl background tiles | bg tiles rivendell background tiles | more free bg tiles

fun stuff to add to your site

web revival manifestos & communities

also, there's actually a pretty cool community of people out there who want to bring joy back to the web! melonland project | web project/community celebrating individual & joyful online experiences. Also has an online forum melonland intro to web revival | what is web revival? melonking manifesto | status cafe | share your current status nightfall city | online community onio.cafe | leave a message and enjoy the ambiance sadgrl internet manifesto | yesterweb internet manifesto | sadly defunct, still a great resource reclaiming online social spaces | great manifesto on cultivating your online experience

in conclusion

i want everyone to make a neocities site because it's fun af and i love seeing everyone's weird personal sites that they made outside of the control of capitalism :) say hi to me on neocities

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nsharks · 10 days ago

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

England passes in beautiful shades of green, the last time you'll see it, so you soak it in. Rolling hills streak the landscape like scars. In the distance, you glimpse faded architecture, imagining people living and working there. An ivy-covered university appears, and you picture yourself dozing off in a lecture. These little fantasies entertain you for the next two hours, but Blue isn't distracted by the same game. When you look at her arm, you notice pink scratches just below where the friendship bracelet hugs her wrist, made by her nails mindlessly.

You tear your eyes from the window and nudge your shoulder against hers. "Hey. What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Her lips twitch at the broken silence and she lifts her azure eyes to yours, a bead of sunlight catching in them. "What?"

"Ground beef."

Those eyes roll. "That's stupid."

Nereida smiles from the other side of her. "Oh, I've got one. What did the ocean say to the beach?"

Blue sighs. "Ghost said that one before. Nothing—it just 'waved'."

A recoil passes over Nereid's kind eyes. "I apologize. That's the only one I know."

Quiet air fills the space again, and when you notice Blue's nails dig back into her wrist, you gently lace your fingers through hers and pull her hand to your lap, allowing her to scratch your thigh, instead.

When an old theme park erects from the grass, Blue's interest piques. "Woah. What is that?"

"None of it works anymore," Ghost mutters, one hand on the wheel.

"It looks cool, though. I have to pee, anyway. Can we stop here?"

"I could use a little stretch for my legs," Nereida adds.

The pitstop is brief enough to allow Blue the chance to curiously look through the decrepit bumper cars, carousel, and even a small rollercoaster that still has the car sitting mid-track. She grabs Ari's hand to show him, but he doesn't seem as intrigued given the pale look on his face. He ends up rushing to a bush and keeling over.

"The back gets a bit bumpy," Kyle says when he notices your expression. "He'll be fine."

"I'll switch with him for the rest of the way."

"You don't have to."

"It's fine. He can probably entertain Blue better than I can."

Everyone uses the small break to eat a little lunch. You already had some of the beans Ghost packed, so you feel uncertain whether you should eat anymore of his food. You haven't even discussed sharing. Rather, you ration the jerky you made and save the rest.

It is a small meal, so you eat it slowly to trick your stomach into feeling full. Just before getting back to the truck, you spot a tree by the entrance to Kettering Kastle. Hickory. Paul told you once they make for great arrows, a softer hardwood. Pliable yet strong. This excites you. Your sheath is only half-full, so you grab your serrated knife and cut a few midsized branches to take with you.

Sitting in the truck bed is far from pleasant. The tail wind makes it hard to breathe, and you have to grab the side of the truck to keep yourself from flying out. Kyle notices your struggle and seems amused, but reaches an arm over in offering. You hold onto him and it does some to keep you stable.

The motorway passes through Kettering, which is a smaller city. The smell is retched, though the only Greys you spot don't take notice to you, trapped between buildings and toppled telephone poles. You make out a sign that reads A14 and figure it is headed to Cambridge. If you continue this pace, you'll reach the coastline by sundown.

Of course, things don't work out that way. The road becomes more obstructed with abandoned vehicles. Ghost has to weave through them like a maze, wasting time and fuel. The sun crawls higher in the sky. Finally, there are a few kilometers of straight road. Speed ticks up only to come to an abrupt halt when he reaches an underpass. You let go of Kyle and stand up to see what has caused the stop—a semi truck completely blocks the way through it.

"Jesus," you mutter.

Consecutive slams of the fronts doors indicate Price and Ghost are checking it out. Kyle hops out with them. After a few minutes, he returns and explains with a sigh, "We'll have to backtrack and find a side street that will lead to another motorway ramp."

"That's going to eat time. The sun will set soon."

He offers his arm again as Ghost begins reversing. "I know. It's fine, we'll just get to the water tomorrow. No rush, yeah?"

It adds an extra hour and a half. The sky turns a remarkable orange that would've had you gawking if not for your irritation of having to stop again. Ghost pulls over just before it gets too dark to set up the tents in a small market town called Haverhill. There's hardly anything here except fields of bright, yellow flowers and little shops with slanted CLOSED signs. It is actually pleasant and well-preserved, until you catch the distinguishable shape of a corpse hanging from one of the telephone poles, a black trash bag over its head.

"Don't look at it."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," you dismiss under your breath.

A more forested patch of land at the edge of the town is where you make camp for the night.

They eat canned goods and you finish your last pieces of jerky. This means you'll have to find more food for yourself tomorrow, or ask Ghost for some. The thought makes you anxious. The last thing you want is to seem like an extra burden. Dead weight that they'd be better off leaving behind. But he also didn't comment when you ate the beans. The uncertainty of where you stand means you need to make yourself useful.

The men need rest, so you offer to keep watch.

Prices dismisses you. "You don't have to, Twix. The three of us can take turns."

"No, really. I'll keep watch and you guys can all get more sleep. I've just been sitting in a car all day, anyway."

He gives in, visibly fatigued after being up over twenty-four hours.

Ghost and Price sleep first.

That leaves you sitting with Kyle when the stars begin to flicker like bright, little heartbeats against the black night.

You pull out your smoother knife—the one you found back at that base—to carve the sticks you found, careful of your bandaged thumb.

Kyle lays his rifle across his lap. "First time I am seeing you smile today and it's while carving sticks."

"Arrows," you correct, holding one up and tapping your index lightly against the sharpened point. "And it's good wood. Hickory."

"You're an easy woman to please," he teases.

"My tastes have changed over the years."

"Really? I can't imagine you as one of those people who cared too much about nice things."

You flash him a raised brow. "Are you saying I was cheap?"

He nudges your knee. "Not what I'm saying. You just seem like someone who would prefer a little movie date over a fancy dinner."

"I liked sushi. Is that fancy?"

He hums. "There were some good cheap sushi spots in London—hole in the wall type places. When there was some kid doing their homework at one of the booths, that's when you knew it'd be good shit."

"You're making me hungry."

"Well, you should've eaten more." He looks at you knowingly. "You're scared to ask anyone for food, aren't you?"

Are you really that easy to read? You place the half-finish arrow across your knees and look at the ground, brushing your fingers absentmindedly through the soft grass. "I just—I am aware of my place here."

"Your place?"

Your hands tightens the grass into a fistful. "I am at the bottom."

"The bottom," he repeats slowly, and his voice lowers. "You really think that?"

You rip the grass and sprinkle it over your boot, glancing up at him. His eyes have darkened, or maybe they are simply mirroring the sky. "I am not complaining. I understand that everyone here has others who they would prefer to keep alive over me, that's all. I just don't want to stick out anymore than I already do."

He reels in your words. "You're forgetting that everyone here has their own perspective, their own wants. It is not as simple as you're making it seem." In a change of topic, he reaches for the arrow on your lap. "Here—let me help."

You hand him the knife and he begins carving expertly as a few minutes of silence ensue. You are lost in your thoughts, keeping your eyes on the surroundings, when he suddenly stops in his handiwork, holding up the knife. You watch him study the leather handle carefully, shake his head to himself, then look at you.

"Where did you get this?"

"Huh? Oh—I found it. At a military base actually."

Your answer seems to strike him, and he releases a disbelieving exhale. "The one near Manchester?"

You nod.

"It was my brother's."

What?

Reading your expression, he shows you the handle and rubs his thumb over a small etching at the bottom that you can barely make out in the moonlight: PG.

"Patrick Garrick," he explains in a murmur, and your chest tightens. "I didn't even notice it at first. It's been years since I had it. The last time...the last time was when shit happened, and I lent it to a friend of mine at the base."

"Who?"

"Soap," he says, a memory taking over his expression as he rubs his jaw. "He was the other member of our spec ops unit."

"You... Someone mentioned him before. Ghost—he asked you guys about him when you arrived. You don't know what happened to him, right?"

Kyles nods. "He stayed back at the base to keep helping even when Price and I jumped ship. That was the Scottish in him—stubborn as hell. Soap was just his codename, of course. Like mine was Gaz." He looks up at you with a faint dimple. "And yours is Twix, huh?"

"I guess." You press your tongue to your teeth and grab the knife, frowning at it as you try to recall exactly where you grabbed it from. "What was his real name, then?"

"John MacTavish."

"I think—I think your friend is dead. I'm sorry." You gaze at him. "I remember now. I found it in one of the rooms, and there was a skeleton with that name. He... he had it quick, though."

The expression on his typically warm eyes turns unreadable and his shoulders stiffen in the slightest. You wonder if you should have bothered sharing this, but then he shrugs it off with a sigh. "It's okay. Figured as much. Many people have died. He's just another name to the list."

Instinct draws your hand to his shoulder, and the muscles softens beneath your touch. "I'm still sorry."

His eyes find yours.

He smiles solemnly.

Then, somewhere in it all, he leans over and closes the gap. The sudden, foreign feel of lips pressed against your own stuns you. His lips move gently, cold and soft against yours, and only when he threads a hand through your hair to pull you closer do you fully register what he is doing. Your eyes fly open and you break away, leaping to your feet.

"Why did you—what was that?"

He stands up with you. "It felt right in the moment."

He tries to touch your shoulder but you flinch away. "I'm sorry. I just—I was just trying to comfort you."

"I misread the moment." His eyes are clouded. "So you didn't want it?"

Did you? Your mind feels fuzzy. "I don't know. I need to...I want to be alone right now."

You grab your knife and sticks, rushing around the tents to find solace by the truck, needing to process what just happened. As you move, you bump into a hard chest—Ghost. Somehow you failed to hear the jagged teeth of the tent's zipper. Avoiding his gaze, you try to slip past, but he grips your elbow, holding you in place.

"What is it?"

The lie wedges out of your lips. "Nothing. I just—thought I saw something so I am going to sit over there and keep an eye out."

The difference in height leads to his stare burning into your scalp. "What did you see?"

"I don't know. Something. Maybe just an animal."

His hold doesn't soften. Stoicism forces itself on your face as you press your lips into a line.

You're easy to ready.

He finally lets go. "I'll take over now. You can sleep."

You find yourself nodding soundlessly, internally glad to be relieved of this duty.

Sleep offers peace of mind, at least until morning.

Dawn breaks over the small town in a quiet clatter of spoons against cans and the shuffling of bags being packed up. The dream you wake up from was one of an old life—the last kiss you experienced. But it fizzles quickly from the recesses of your brain the moment your lids shutter open.

Both you and Kyle seem keen on acting as though nothing happened. More than anything, you are confused. You try to search inside that box of yours for how you feel, but all you find is fear. You've barely been able to keep up with the fear. You busy yourself with helping get everything back in the truck, fitting the supplies like a jigsaw puzzle. You have nothing to eat. A day or two without food is doable until you can properly hunt for something—

"Here."

It is Nereida who catches you by the truck before leaving. She practically shoves a can of tuna into your hands and you look up at her in hesitant gratitude.

"We're all sharing food," she says. "That is how it should be."

"Thank you. Really, this is—"

"Don't thank me. There is plenty for everyone."

For now, your mind chides, but you swallow the thought while scarfing down the meal you pretend is London's finest sushi.

Once everyone is ready, you head to the back of the truck, expecting an awkward encounter with Kyle, only to find Ghost sitting there beside the kayak, hands relaxed behind his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Needed a break from driving."

You glance at the front to see that Price is behind the wheel, and Kyle is in the passenger side. In a way, you're relieved. You breathe through your nose and hoist yourself up. The bumpy ride is quiet at first. His body takes up space so that each pothole nudges your shoulder or knee against his. The morning ages. You swear you can see there coast at one point, but it must be your imagination, because the passing sign reads Halstead.

"You really need to work on lying better."

The brash accent registers low against the hum of the engine, and his eyes are closed when you look over. He is leaned back, one leg straight and one bent, seeming to enjoy the seat more than you are.

"Fine. I'm bad at lying."

"Care to share the truth, then?"

He needn't elaborate for you to know what he is referring to. "I was...I was upset because I found out my knife—the one I took from the base—belonged to Kyle's brother."

His brow ticks.

You continue, "But he actually gave it to Soap, and I—I found his dog tag on a skeleton. John MacTavish. You were friends with him, weren't you?"

His eyes open, but they are too murky to decipher from just his profile. His jaw flexes. "I wasn't a man with friends, Twix."

"You know what I mean."

There is a pause, and then, "He was a sergeant under my command. A good man. Grating, at times. But good."

"Well, I'm sorry he didn't make it. If you of all people say he was a good guy, then he really must've been."

He hums in agreement. Thoughtful. Then—two gloved fingers touch your jaw, turning your eyes to his. "You are still lying, and still bad at it."

You wet your lips. "I wasn't—"

"Help!"

Ghost drops your chin and grabs the gun from his waist.

Your eyes flash around at the sound of a second plea. There is a man at the side of the road, leg draped in bloodied bandages, but there isn't a chance for you to register more of him when the truck takes a sudden, sharp left down a side street and you brace yourself by grabbing the edge with both arms. The small city-scape whirls by in a blur. Ghost swears under his breath, scanning the area as he bends on one knee and keeps the gun secure in his grip. Confused, you grab his arm.

"That man was injured."

His voice is harsh and alert. "He has fucking friends somewhere here. He was just trying to—"

A shattering sound. An audible pop. You're thrown against the truck bed even harder this time as it skids across the street, nearly slamming into a flipped-over car. Ghost covers you, the weight of him keeping you from flying out. The truck swerves to a halt. Everything is black until his weight lifts. He barks an order, jumps out, and pulls you with him.

Pressed against the side of the truck, the world becomes consumed by loud sounds and the distinct smell of gunpowder. Ghost rips open the passenger door and urgently pulls Blue, Ari, and Nereida out, ordering them to keep low. From the other side, you hear Price and Kyle shouting, followed by another series of gunshots.

#simon ghost riley x you #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #zombie apocolypse au

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago

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Dummfucks of the Grid

word count: 760

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals

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As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.

Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”

“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”

He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”

“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”

“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”

Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”

“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.

“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”

“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.

“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”

“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”

“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”

“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”

“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”

“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”

#fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #reader insert #fanfiction #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando noris #f1 fic #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #george russell

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cap-winter-barnes · 5 months ago

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HEY QUEEN! i had this idea for a fic… angsty, could also be fluffy and maybe smutty? 👀 anyway, like in the original twisters, reader goes to try and get tyler to sign divorce papers and ends up chasing him around with tornadoes. then maybe she almost dies in one with him, like the pool scene, or she gets hurt? either way, they fall in love again, etc etc. !!!

Sign Your Life Away (Tyler Owens x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of sex, Tyler Owens (need I say more?)

It had been a while since you'd last visited your home state of Oklahoma, and it wasn't without trying, your life has just been a whirlwind of drama for the last few months. Your job had been even more demanding than usual with all of the unforeseen tornadoes smattering the map, one after another.

You are expecting this visit to be short and sweet, in and out, back to your apartment in Los Angeles. The divorce papers you have been carrying with you for quite some time, tightly fisted in your hand as you approach the growing mass of tornado chasers. Despite hoping that your soon to be ex-husband would be here upon your arrival, you soon realise that his little media circus is still awaiting the appearance of the world famous "Tornado Wrangler".

With a racing heart, you perch yourself onto the bonnet of your rented truck, boots balancing on the bumper guard. It may have been months since you last wore your wedding band but you still feel the ghost of the metal that once adorned your left hand whenever you think of Tyler Owens. Tears long dried out for the man, you take a deep breath as you prepare to see him for the first time in a long time, and hopefully for the last, you're ready for a new, fresh start in LA.

The rev of an engine brings you out of your thoughts, the blaring sound of a rock country track blaring through the air familiar to your ears. This was yours and Tyler's song. Keeping your position on your truck you watch as the Tyler's Ram speeds into the lot. You let the media crowd have their fun, surging and cheering for the arrival of their 'star'. Music still playing loudly you can't help but smile as you watch the one and only Tyler Owens soaking in the spotlight. Yet what surprises you is the false smile on his face, there's a dullness in his eyes that you can see from just watching from afar.

As you take in the sight of him, he notices you. He freezes as he makes eye contact, the smile completely disappearing from his face. A quick whisper to Boone and his crew has the crowd disperse with the promise of T-Shirts, signed merch and food to encourage them. Tyler makes a beeline for you, his confidence stride has you nervous.

"It's been a while, Baby Girl." He tips the brim of his Stetson towards you, a sad yet welcoming smile crossing his face.

"I'm not your Baby Girl anymore, Owens." You jump down from the hood, quick to press the worn papers into his chest. "Sign 'em." Before you can pull away, he has his hand around yours, holding you close to his body.

"You know neither of us want that, right?" Swallowing back a retort you meet his eyes, drowning in his hazel pools. "C'mon, Y/N." The pleading in his voice and face have your heart questioning everything.

"Tyler, it'll never work."

He breaks the eye-contact first and you swear you see the glisten of tears in his eyes. "It was good while it lasted, Owens. But we both want very different things."

"Ju-"

"Sign the papers, please. I'm staying in El Reno, come by the motel tomorrow and drop them off."

Without another word you turn your back on the man you used to love, truck door now between you both, you take one more look at Tyler as you see his heart breaking in front of you all over again.

"Okay. If this is what you want."

*The Next Evening*

You're not shocked that Tyler is late to drop off the divorce papers but why do you not feel disappointed that he never showed? Just as you are about to leave to set off back for home, there's a loud knocking at the door. With a sigh you open the door to be suddenly met with Tyler standing dishevelled and soaking with rain in front of you.

"We need to leave, now!"

The panic in his voice is enough to put your trust in him.

"Ty?"

"We need to move, now! I'm serious, let's go." He holds his hand out to you and without a second thought you place yours in his. As you make your way out of the motel room, you notice the chaos erupting around you.

"What the fuck? Tyler, where did this come from?"

With a rambled and short explanation you know just from his tone and demeanour that you're really in trouble if you don't get moving. The tornado is unmissable as it covers the horizon, debris flying across the sky, tearing apart everything in its path.

"We need to find somewhere low."

Immediately your mind goes to the empty swimming pool across the lot, you pull on Tyler's hand, guiding him in the right direction. Over all the destruction you make out the sound of a woman screaming and a young child crying. "Ty!" With one swift nod he runs across the lot to help, carrying the little girl carefully in his arms, never letting the mother out of sight.

The wind speed ratchets up quicker than you expect, this isn't your first experience with a tornado but this is the closest you've ever been to one outside the protection of the Ram. You loved storm chasing with Tyler, long before you were married and during those blissful few years that you were still in that honeymoon stage. A scream leaves your chest as you watch a truck somersault mere inches from crushing him to death. And you know if that moment that those divorce papers were a mistake. You were still madly, irrevocably in love with Tyler Owens, you'd just been in denial for all this time.

As he keeps your shielded from most of the force of mother nature, his arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe, you pray that you both make it through this to work things out.

Seconds feel like hours before the tornado passes. You can't help but shiver violently with fear, exhaustion and the effects of the rain seeping into your skin. Yet as you take in the destruction around you, your mind is on only one thing - Tyler Owens. Without taking a second thought you grab him by the collars of his shirt and pull him towards you. As you press your lips to his own, you can't help regret leaving him behind all those months ago, what an idiot you had been. But you know here and now is where you belong, in his arms.

Part 2 Coming Soon

#requests are open #send requests #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fanfic #buy me a coffee #buy me a kofi

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lipglossanon · 2 months ago

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October 30th

Kink: Rape play

Pairing: Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (feat. Jack Krauser & Luis Serra)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, rape play, cnc, dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, slight predator/prey, bullying, voyeurism, controlling Leon, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread

A few of Leon’s work friends are having a bonfire out in Arklay; their own little shindig away from the usual drunken rowdiness of bars and overcrowded clubs. You’re invited along of course.

“Can’t leave my pretty girl all alone, can I?” His dark tone sends shivers down spine.

Shaking your head no, you went along with him and now, you’re seated on a log next to the warm flame of their fire. Leon’s sitting next to you, arm over your shoulders to keep you tucked into his side while he talks with his buddies.

You thought there would be more to this hangout but aside from you and Leon, there’s only two other guys. Leon introduced the dark haired one as Luis and the other with a gnarly scar twisting across his face as Krauser. It’s an odd first name you think, but maybe he’s German.

They talk a lot about their jobs, things that go over your head with references and inside jokes of people and places you’ve never seen. Instead of feeling left out though, it’s actually nice that you can just sit next to Leon and enjoy the atmosphere—no need to make small talk with anyone. That’s not to say they don’t rope you into the conversation from time to time; but, you mostly sit on the sideline, eyes bouncing from person to person as they talk with each other.

It’s late when they start to act like they’re wrapping things up; Luis puts away the cooler and drinks with Krauser helping. Leon helps you stand, warm hands brushing over your ass and making you glance to him nervously.

“Think it’s time for a little fun,” he murmurs against your ear.

“Fun?” You repeat, brows pinching with the question.

“Fun,” he states, blue eyes glittering in the low light. “We’re going to play my favorite game, the same as we played last year. Make sure to sell it, sweetheart.”

Pulse hammering in your throat, you nod jerkily, panties quickly becoming sticky with slick. Leon chasing you down to fuck you in the woods is always a fun time and it never gets old. Your tongue wets your bottom lip and his eyes track the movement, pupils dilating subtly.

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, sucking your wet bottom lip into your mouth.

Turning, you walk towards his car parked under the trees some distance away. You swerve past the bumper and walk deeper into the forest. Once you feel you’re far enough, you pick up the pace. You think you hear Leon’s dark laugh somewhere in the distance, but you don’t stop to ponder it.

You try and run, but your head’s out of sorts from the idea being sprung on you, so it’s not your best on display. The thrill of hearing Leon chase after you makes your heart race. It’s not long at all before his thick arms wrap around your chest and stomach, yanking you back against him.

“Think you can get away? You little slut,” he rasps against your ear, tongue running across the shell. “Just for that, I’m gonna fuck this hot pussy right here, right now.”

“You can’t!” You wail. “Please, don’t, please.”

His palm covers your mouth, “There’ll be plenty of time for begging later, pretty girl.”

You twist and squirm against him, but all it does is grind his stiff cock against your ass. Arousal pools low in your belly and you whimper behind his hand. Chuckling low in his throat, Leon makes quick work of your panties, ripping them from your body and tossing them down onto the forest floor.

A low whistle from the side makes you jerk your head, eyes widening to see Leon’s friends watching you two.

Leon whispers in your ear, “Aren’t you going to ask them for help?”

“P-please,” tears bead your waterline, embarrassment a hot stone in your chest. “Please help me. H-he’s raping me.”

“Look at that,” Krauser grins, palming his bulge. “What a slut.”

Luis laughs. “Aren’t we the lucky ones, eh, amigo?”

They must be in on it, too. The thought only makes your pussy wetter. While they distract you, Leon undoes his jeans and pulls his dick out. Notching the head at your clenching heat, he thrusts his dripping cock deep inside your pussy with a groan.

“Nooo, help me, please,” you cry out, pussy clamping down on Leon’s cock as he splits you open. “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he laughs meanly in your ear. “Fuck, feels like this soft pussy’s aching for a good fuck.”

You turn pleading eyes up to the two men in front of you, watching as they each take their cocks out, jerking off to the scene of you and Leon. More slick leaks down your thighs, clit throbbing as you watch them get off. Leon shifts his hands down to grip your waist. He pinches your side and you hiccup a moan.

Lips trembling, you call out, “H-help me.”

“Fuuuck,” Krauser grunts, stroking his thick cock in a meaty fist. “Beg me harder and I might help, sweet thing.”

“Please, please,” you choke out a whine, clit throbbing while Leon pounds into your sopping wet cunt. “Ohh, he’s raping my little pussy and you’re just watching.”

All three men moan and Leon slaps your ass.

“Yeah, baby, tell’em how it feels to have your sweet little pussy raped,” he goads, fingers digging into the fat of your hips. “Gripping me so tight, like you don’t even want me pulling out. Hungry for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Nooo,” you whimper, tits bouncing with every thrust. “You’re being mean and gross.”

Louis spits into his palm and jerks himself off a little rougher, “Can’t believe you’d just let him fuck your tight pussy like that, cariño. You’re basically asking for it.”

A shudder runs through your body, pussy gushing around Leon’s pistoning cock.

“Getting rawed like that must feel pretty good,” Krauser cuts in, “she’s not even putting up that much of a fight.”

They both laugh and it makes your stomach burn, heat pooling low in your core.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Leon bites out. “Gonna make me cum in your breedable little pussy, aren’t you? Fucking slut.”

He hisses the last part, fingers digging so tight into your skin it hurts. You’re so turned on, knowing the two men in front of you—practically strangers—are beating off to your struggle, to the faux rape taking place mere feet in front of them. Leon’s pounding your sopping wet pussy so hard, the tip kisses your cervix sending a dull wave of pain that twists into pleasure.

“Stop, stop, please, I don’t want this,” you babble, lashes fluttering while your toes curl in their shoes. “I don’t wanna cum on your cock.”

“Stuff that greedy pussy, Leon,” Luis cuts in with a groan, hand a blur as he fists his cock again and again. “Make her cream all over your cock.”

“Yeah, make that bitch cum,” Krauser tacks on with a low pant.

Leon laughs and it makes you whine, “Don’t worry, this little hole’s going to cum whether she wants it or not. Then, I’m going to fill her up like the cumdump she is. Right, sweetheart?”

“Nooo,” you protest weakly, pussy walls fluttering and clenching on his cock. Your hands reach back and claw at his arms. “Stop it, you’re going to ruin my pussy.”

“Fuck,” he bites out. “Always know just what to say, don’t you? Yeah, take it, you fucking whore. It’s not rape if you’re this wet, baby.”

He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck and it topples you over the edge, climax hitting you like a ton of bricks. White sparks light up behind your eyes while your body jerks and twitches against his hold. You scream, pussy milking and fluttering around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Body relaxing, you slump back against him, legs noodles and making Leon hold you in place. He doesn’t stop rutting his fat cock into your cunt, groaning and sighing against the back of your neck while he fucks you until he spills hot and thick inside you. You briefly think about the men watching it take place, but you’re too tired to care now.

Their voices wash over you like white noise as they walk closer. Leon eases out of your messy pussy with a low grunt, fingers patting against your cum covered slit.

“Oye, thanks for the fun night.”

Leon hums, “Don’t expect it too often.”

“Of course not, comrade.”

All three laugh and then Leon’s hoisting you up into his arm.

“Can we see?”

A cool breeze drifts across your wet pussy when Leon flips your skirt up. A low whistle comes from somewhere to your left.

“Mi corazón, what a delicious sight.”

“Wouldn’t want to let us have a little taste now would ya, Kennedy?”

“Both of you can go fuck yourselves.”

Leon’s voice shifts into that cold tone that makes you stiffen against him. He drops a quick kiss to your hairline and begins to walk off, back to his car you assume.

“Let’s get back home so I can make out with that hot pussy, pretty girl,” he murmurs down at you and you whine in reply.

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #lipglossanon Kinktober 2024 #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #corrupt cop!leon #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy #it’s the OG 😉#corrupt cop!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut

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identifying-cars-in-posts · 1 year ago

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I GOT A NEW CAR

Everybody meet the new baby that i will never shut up about forever!

This is Clifford the Third, my new 1996 Nissan Pickup!! I probably paid too much for her but given that I live in Massachusetts and she has virtually no rust I’m okay with that lol.

So a brief history of the Nissan Pickup! These trucks were released in the US in 1985 and were sold through 1997, when they were replaced with the Frontier. They were the successor to the beloved Datsun 720, which had been in production since 1979. They are in fact just called the Pickup! They’re colloquially known as the D21 - their chassis code, and the Hardbody, because of the double walled durable construction of the trucks’ bed.

The D21 was available with a couple different engines and drivetrain layouts. Mine is a 4x4 with the KA24 motor (which it shared with the 240SX/Silvia). She’s also a King Cab, meaning she has a slightly elongated wheelbase to allow for two small inwards facing jump seats in the back of the cab. Still a two door though.

AND SHE’S A STICK! She has a 5-speed manual transmission, and it’s the best transmission i’ve ever personally had in a car. She’s my third manual, the other two being a 1999 Toyota Corolla and a 2004 Subaru WRX, both of which were great but the Corolla had a really sloppy gearbox that felt incredibly vague at times, whereas the WRX had a sportier transmission that was pretty unforgiving and stiff. This one is definitive about where each gear is, but also won’t get too jerky or loud if you shift a little early or late.

Nissan Hardbody trucks are known and loved for their durability, versatility, and simplicity. They’re super bare bones but what they do have is built remarkably well and meant to withstand lots of abuse. If they don’t rust and have basic maintenance kept up it’s not uncommon for them to go 300k+ miles with minimal issues. Mine has around 184k miles, high but manageable. She also has a few modifications from the previous owner, namely a straight piped exhaust (no muffler, just one big long aluminum tube), aftermarket bumpers and lights, locking hubs, and a small lift. The guy i bought it from had plans to make it an off-roader but had too many projects and needed to offload one to make space in his driveway.

While many people either take these off-roading or turn them into drift trucks, my plan is to bring her back to mostly stock. I’m in the process of tracking down OEM bumpers and a more typical cat-back (from the catalytic converter back) exhaust system so she’s a little less obnoxiously loud. Since i mostly just need reliable transport more than a toy and she is now my sole car, I want to just make her relatively normal. But I love her a lot and am happy to be able to share!

#not a car id #nissan #i put like 70 miles on her today alone and she did great

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paper-mario-wiki · 9 months ago

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May I ask what was in the "rejected" folder you showed in the FreakTV video?

certainly!

that was the one bumper i made that was deemed to be a little too much by well reasoned critics.

the well-reasoned reason they conjected was "i don't really care that it's censored historical footage, i would be very upset if there was a random chance that i could be shown the JFK assassination footage at any given time" which i, if you could believe it, tried to argue against when it was first pointed out to me. after thinking about it for a moment i thought "ah man. yeah, fuck that's a good point." and then i created a coffin for it. to date, it is the only thing ive made that was a bit Too Much.

if you'd like to see the Historical Footage Of The JFK Assassination (though grainy/shaky you can still def see a Cloud of Head) made into a freaktv bumper called "Baby Park" (named after the mario kart track, of which the music is taken from), it is below the keep reading tab.

#anon #video #been thinking about bolding the TL:DR parts of my longer posts

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Country Rose 1

Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

The train ride leaves you stiff and sleepy. You couldn’t sleep on the long trek, your eyes devouring the scenery as it shifted from urban to rural, from the grim hues of morning to the pale tones of a stolid afternoon. Time and distance skews together and you step onto the platform thoroughly disoriented. If you can call it that.

The country dust tickles your nose as the lazy winds stir. The station is old, its wooden panel outdated and crooked, and the slats beneath your feet are splintering. You’re the only passenger to depart at that outpost. You’re not surprised.

What surprises you is that you’re all alone. The station is empty and the landscape is flat and sprawling. The train chugs away without a care. You give a sheepish cringe and look back and forth aimlessly. Well, then.

You take out your phone and shield the screen from the sun. You’re a bit paranoid you got the wrong stop. You turn this way and that as the bars in the corner flicker. Great, no signal.

An engine rumbles from afar and you squint as you lower your cell. Down the grey road, rolls a large blue pickup truck. As it pulls up, you spot the scatter of dirt across the paint and the dents in the bumper. It’s a farm truck if you ever saw one.

You stare at it as the gears crank and the vehicle shakes as it idles. A man pokes his head out the window and calls your name. You bat your lashes as you perk up. His dark hair is neatly trimmed yet the lock at the front can’t help but spiral over his forehead. His blue eyes compete with the shining coat on the truck.

“That’s me,” you hitch up your pack and cross the dirt.

“Sorry, there was a cow in the road,” he snorts as he hops out and approaches, hand out, “I’m Clark.”

“Right, Clark,” you smile as you shake his hand. When your aunt said he was her friend, you expected someone older. Especially with that name.

“You’ll have to call Jeanette when we get to the farm,” he says as he stops before you, staring expectantly, “I’ll take your bag.”

“Oh, right, thanks,” you swing it off your arm and hand it over. He takes it effortlessly and carries it to the bed of the truck. You’ve heard that farmers are wellbuilt but damn, he’s huge. “So, how did you know my Aunt?”

“Funny, I bought a quilt off of her. She came down this way with a quilting show. You know, I have a bunch my ma made me,” he drops your bag over the side into the back of the truck, “but she’s got arthritis and can’t do much sewing anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say.

“Not your fault,” he rounds the hood and beckons you after him. He’s as old-fashioned as everything else around here as he opens the door at your approach, “she’s doing well otherwise.”

“Hm, well, thanks for... having me,” you grab onto the door and lift yourself into the cabin, “oof, uh,” you fall into the seat and look at him, “I know it’s kinda of... awkward.”

“Stars align is how I see it,” he shrugs. “My farmhand took off to get married to some gal in the city and you need a job.”

“Well, that’s a nice way of putting it,” you snicker.

He smiles and nods, “watch yourself.”

You tuck your limbs in as he shuts the door. He strides around to the driver’s side and gets in easily. He shifts into gear and spins the wheel to back away from the tracks, “well, what’s the not nice way of putting it?”

“Ah, uh, I... my parents told me I need to figure out what to do with myself and Aunt Jeanette overheard so... guess you got the call.”

“No school?” He wonders as he straightens the wheel and steers back to the road.

“Not anymore,” you exhale, “I liked it, really, but my grades weren’t... exceptional.”

“Don’t need school to make a living. Not if you can find a good skill,” he assures. “I got a journalism degree, you know? Lotta good it does me on the bookshelf.”

“Journalism?” You echo, “that’s... exciting. I was trying to do biology but think I may have done better as an arts student.”

“Biology, wow,” he comments. “Well, you know, you’re young, you got time to figure it out.”

“Yeah, I hope...” you murmur, “so, ahem, what exactly am I doing? I don’t know if I’m built to throw hay bales.”

He laughs, “you leave that to me. As long as you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, you’ll do just fine. I mean, if you came all the way down here, I take that as a good sign. That’s dedication. A step in the right direction.”

“That’s very optimistic of you,” you give a brittle chuckle.

“You city girls, you’re all so cynical,” he muses. “Take everything so serious. Things don’t move fast enough to be serious around here.”

“Mm, I guess not,” you sniff, “so, erm, your mom, she live with you?”

“She does,” he answers, “she needs a lot of help. I’m sorry, er, did Jeanette not explain--”

“Explain? She said I’d be helping out with your farm.”

He smiles, tight-lipped as he drives into the sunlight, “you will be, yeah. Mostly, with my mom, she needs company.”

“Makes sense,” you nod. “That’s fine. I mean, I’m kinda relieved. I don’t know about horses. They look like they bite.”

“They can,” he scoffs, “just keep your hands flat.”

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #summer rose #series #drabble #superman #dc #dcu

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