#we had bat houses that bats lived in at a house we used to rent

[daydreamingleclerc]

corrupt // mason mount

in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.

includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.

i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3

this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.

22:04. 

the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.  

“i think it’s-” 

“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”  

she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.  

“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”  

savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.  

“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”  

the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.  

“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”  

“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”  

“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.  

you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.  

it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.  

as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.  

a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.  

“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”  

you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.  

you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.  

“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”  

you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.  

mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.  

“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”  

“-gareth, piss off.”  

your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.  

“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”  

you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.  

“where are you off to?”  

“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”  

mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”  

“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.  

“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”  

“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”  

he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”  

you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”  

“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”  

it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.  

“if you insist.”  

he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm. 

“atta girl.”  

22:50 

it seemed to be a night of firsts.  

for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.  

you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.   

it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex. 

the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.  

“whats up, princess?”  

your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”  

when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”  

his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”  

he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual. 

before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly. 

“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?” 

“his new what?”  

“got myself a new what?”  

yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.  

“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”  

he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”  

he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.  

“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.  

“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”  

“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”  

“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”  

“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”  

eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.  

you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”  

“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”  

“i’ll take you.”  

“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”  

his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.  

“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”  

“why?”  

“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.” 

you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.  

“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”  

“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”  

you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.  

“you just wait at the door, big guy.” 

it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.  

you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.” 

“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”  

you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.  

“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”  

your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.  

“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”  

you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business. 

he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”  

you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.  

“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”  

the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.  

“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”  

his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.  

“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”  

stupid reply.  

“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”  

the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.  

“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.  

“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”  

you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him. 

he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.  

“thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...” 

“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”  

he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.  

“do you... um. will you come in?”  

he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.  

you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.  

his dick hardened in his jeans. 

“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.  

“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”  

23:27 

when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.  

“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”  

she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.  

“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”  

“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”  

you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.  

“where’s your bedroom, darling?”  

savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.  

“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”  

mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.  

“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”  

you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.  

“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.  

you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.  

becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.  

“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”  

“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-” 

“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”  

as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”  

23:52 

“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”  

you asked him. you couldn’t help it.  

you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.  

“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”  

you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.  

mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.  

“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”  

mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”  

you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.  

“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”  

“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”  

mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.  

“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”  

you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”  

“n-no, mason.”  

“you’re not a virgin?”  

“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”  

“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”  

mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.  

“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”  

you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”  

mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”  

“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.” 

“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.  

“did he ever make you cum?”  

you shook your head.  

“n-no, mason.”  

another clit slap.  

“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?” 

the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”  

the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.  

“w-what?”  

“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”  

“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.  

“mhm, yes princess. understood?”  

you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.” 

he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”  

“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”  

“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”  

a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”  

he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.  

“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”  

“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.” 

you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”  

“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”  

“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan. 

“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”  

you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw. 

as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”  

he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”  

mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.  

he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.  

“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”  

mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”  

oh.  

he lay there, waiting patiently.  

“can i please cum, daddy?”  

mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”  

with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.  

you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.  

in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.  

“what’s up, little one?”  

mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.  

“it feels... big.”  

your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.  

“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”  

you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.  

he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting. 

“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”  

“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”  

you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”   

mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.  

“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”  

you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.  

he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”  

“t-the head?”  

“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”  

you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.  

your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”  

you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.  

“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”  

you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”  

he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”  

you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”  

“my mouth.. it tastes weird.” 

he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.  

“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”  

he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.  

“do you remember your word, darling?”  

“cherries, daddy.”  

“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”  

“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”  

“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”  

you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”  

mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.  

“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”  

the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.  

he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”  

your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”  

he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.  

his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.  

you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.  

“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.” 

you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.” 

“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.” 

“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?” 

you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.  

“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.” 

your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.  

the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.  

“d-daddy...”  

mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?” 

“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”  

mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.  

“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”  

 you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.  

“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.” 

“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”  

“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”  

your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.  

“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”  

you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.  

it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.  

“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”  

“what happened...? what did i do?”  

it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.  

“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”  

he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”  

“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”  

mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”  

his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”  

mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.  

“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”  

he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.  

“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”  

“y-you want me to...”  

“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”  

your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”  

“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”  

you smiled.  

“impossible.”  

[highhhfiveee]

safety net, part two

part one: 💸 | part three: 📹

are we excited???? prepare your hearts cause the feels kinda took over

pairing: pornstar!mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: mike and reader are both genuine people and that draws them to each other. wc: 3.5k tags: fluff, lots of internal pining, porn mentions but nothing graphic. should be error free bc i actually proofread this one but if there are any, my sincerest apologies

“you have to be, like, evading taxes or something.”

mike chuckles behind you as he closes the door to his apartment--sorry, penthouse.

you're stood with your jaw unhinged, eyes scanning over the wide, sweeping space of his open concept living room and all of the furniture that decorates it, expensive-looking but cozy in a way that you wish you could replicate in your own place. you stalk over to tall windows that line the farthest wall, creating a corner that allows for you to see the bustling city below; all of the flashing lights, people drunkenly stumbling around street signs, and cars zipping and weaving through traffic.

you'd never seen anything like this, just a girl used to the urban suburbs on the south side of town, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you feel mike's presence behind you. you don't turn to him, dropping your shoes and purse to the ground and keeping your eyes trained on a street corner below.

"the view's what sold me on the place. i'm able to watch the sunrise on that side," he points to the windows on the other side of the kitchen, offering a view of the green space nestled in between skyscrapers. "and the sunset on this one."

"must be nice," you reply, backing away from the glass and observing the rest of the space. it was the size of, like, three of your apartments combined, organized and free of mess. "i only have a view of a corner store, and a really really busy bus stop. it's super annoying."

"where do you live?"

you give him the name of the neighborhood you'd known your whole life. you didn't recognize any of the area's flaws when you were a child. it was never a red flag to you that the street off of the one you grew up on had two storefronts of the same fast food chain on either end, or that the closest supermarket was twenty minutes away. you hadn't even batted an eye when some of your school “friends” would tell you about visiting gourmet cupcake restaurants and vintage consignments stores. you just went along with it, saying, "that's so cool. the fanciest place by my house is the $7.99 buffet." they all laughed at you.

it wasn't until you were older, freshly graduated from high school and looking to be on your own that you realized the disparity across the region. only people with certain attributes got the nice things, and you'd been conditioned to be grateful to have a daycare in a plaza with a smoke shop and tax preparation office.

"it's just too expensive for me to move anywhere else. i can barely make rent now, with the way they keep raising it every year. kept the tag on this dress just so i could take it back." you look down at yourself and mike can see the longing in your eye, the twinkle in them that wishes you could hang it up in your closet tomorrow.

after tonight, you kind of wish you hadn't bought it at all. you thought that simon would’ve found it insatiable, wining and dining you before taking you back to his place for a night cap, but all you think about now is the embarrassment of walking back into the luxury department store, handing them your receipt for the item you wore once and couldn’t keep.

it fills you with distaste and you find yourself desperate to peel the item off your skin. “is it okay if i shower?”

mike nods furiously, apologizing for not offering. he’d just been staring at you while you talked, admiring you. he was used to people with perfect appearances around him, done up by professionals that costed $200 an hour, but you were different, uncaring about your unruly curls and smeared eyeliner. you were unbothered and carefree, and that fascinated him.

he leads you down a long hall, coming to a stop once it forks into three different directions: left, right, and slightly diagonal right. the walls are lined with paintings and photos of mike and people that share his features, and at the end of the diagonal path is a giant trophy case, filled to the brim with plaques and trophies of various sizes, shapes, and finishes.

“jesus,” you murmur, abandoning your escort. mike’s walked ahead of you, but he makes his way back when he notices you’re not behind him.

“everything okay?”

you point to his trophy case, letting out an incredulous laugh. “are all of those for you?”

mike nods, and you laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “okay, so you’re obviously some sports star because no way someone living like this wouldn’t be.”

mike goes rigid next to you. he never knew how to bring up his career to new people he met, sometimes ping-ponging between “i work for a world-renown production company” and “i’m an entrepreneur”. he had no problem lying to other people, his guard all the way up from years of rejection and disgust at the mention of “sex worker” and “pornstar”, but something felt wrong about lying to you. he swallows hard, racking his mind for a semi truth.

“not sports, but definitely still physical.” you scrunch your nose at this, blinking at him in confusion, but you stop when he grabs your hand and nudges his head in the direction of the bathroom. “didn’t you want to shower?”

you nod, allowing him to pull you down the hall but not without a second glance at the case. what other physical career presented you with that many awards?

the bathroom is a star in it's own right, modern in a way that you fawn over when you're watching hgtv. the gigantic, complicated looking shower invites you from the corner, nestled in between the gadget-rigged toilet and garden bathtub.

all of the decor in here was clean, pale blue, a nice offset to all of the white tile and gold-accented appliances.

you're half-listening, your conscience replaced with static as mike explains where everything is. "so...towels are over here..."

his shower had a rainforest head and a small, handheld one clipped into a holder, with a screen embedded into the wall. there was a bench and railing to hold onto, a speaker on the back tile....your eyes cut to the toilet, and the smaller one next to it. a bidet??????

"...and, the bidet remote's right next to the soap. i'll lay some clothes out for you on the hall table, but let me know if you need anything, okay?" you react a little too late, raising your hand and squeaking, "wait" right as mike's backed out of the room.

"fuck."

you try to look around for things, eventually finding the towels in a closet concealed as a part of the wall and, as a bonus, a knob to turn on the heated floor?????

you strip down, completely bare under the dress, and fold it up, retail employee coded, delicately placing it by the sink with the tag on top. it was exactly how you'd return it, with a shitty excuse and plastic smile. you do the same with mike's jacket.

you throw your hair up before wrapping yourself in the towel, delicately cloaked in what had to be egyptian cotton, and pace on over to the shower. you tap the daunting screen, and it lights up with a flourish, displaying the date, time, weather, and a host of different icons.

you don't know why it's so hard for you to turn the shower on, scrolling and bumbling through a collection of options that weren't simply turn on. why did you need to use a screen anyway? why reinvent the simple wheel that was a faucet lever?

you decide you need mike's help after a bit, though self-conscious about having to ask after he probably told you earlier. you splash cool water on your face before leaving the room, attempting to wring the anxiety out of your body.

you're at the fork in the hallway again, the view of you obscured from the living room by a wall, and you turn your attention to mike's trophy case again. you're too far to see any of the engravings on anything and you're so curious to find out what they say.

you feel your muscles attempt to pull you down the lonely hall, but you halt, reminding yourself that mike was a kind person who'd invited you into his home, and you were supposed to be showering, not snooping. still, even with the moment of morality, untrustworthy interest prodded at your brain.

mike's exiting his room with a handful of clothes for you when he catches you, arms wound around yourself to keep your towel up. you haven't seen him yet, your gaze fixed on something down the hall. he gulps softly, unaware that he would see you like this so early in your connection. your long neck cranes forward to see better, and he prematurely wonders if you're sensitive there, mind swirling with musings of bites and marks.

"something wrong?" you jolt, blinking and stammering and damn near jestering as you attempt to defend yourself. mike doesn't look at you with malice or cynicism, simply stepping closer as your eyes flitter around. "i, uh...i need help with the shower. i don't know how to turn it on."

mike huffs, squinting his eyes at you jovially. "that the only thing?" fuck.

you drop your shoulders with a deep sigh, throwing a pointed finger down the hall. "i also wanna know why you have all those awards." there's a small, almost undetectable change in mike's face, his eye twitching. you watch him shrug it off, placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to the bathroom. "i'll explain after you shower."

you're puzzled as to why he's so cagey about it, but you don't question it, accepting his statement and finally listening to him as he explains what to do

you're alone again after he sets the clothes down and leaves. he took your dress, easing you with "just going to hang it up. no worries" and a sheepish smile, and you're eager, ready to hear about what he does and how he's able to afford all this, including this shower that provides you with the best shower you think you've ever taken.

you're able to get the water to the perfect temp, scalding, with the perfect amount of pressure to sting your skin and make you feel clean. you wash away all of your worries; thoughts of keeping a roof over your head, being okay, and finding a genuine connection extinguished with the hum of soft jazz and lather of ylang ylang scented soap.

you lotion yourself with one of the various creams on mike's counter, soothed by the powder smell, and slip into the clothes you're provided--a pair of soft, heart-covered boxers and a university t-shirt, faded into burgundy from countless washes.

mike's sitting on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone when the the demure pitter patter of your feet sounds against the floors, and he swears he almost dies when he sees you.

maybe it hadn't been totally random when he chose the clothes for you, deciding to give you two of his favorite items so he could see how they looked on you. the shirt, very lived in and from his alma mater, skirted your thighs and covered up his boxers, draping over your lithe body in a way that made his mouth go dry.

"okay," you call, dropping beside him on the couch. the wispy hairs around your hairline frame your clean face, guiding his attention to the smattering of dark moles around your eyes and temples. "tell me. what are all of those awards for?"

"do you want some water or something?" he interrupts, and while you accept, you furrow your eyebrows at him. he gets up with the swiftness of a nascar pit crew, and you hold your gaze on him, pivoting your body as he moves.

"mike, c'mon, what gives? you can trust me."

his back is towards you, filling a glass with water from the filtered water faucet. he hunches at your baffled tone, your voice all soft and downcast.

he wants to scream because it's so easy to just come out and tell you what he does. you didn't say anything at the restaurant, but maybe you'd put two and two together when he finally told you truth, remembering a thumbnail from the porn site of your choosing. he wasn't ashamed---nowhere near that. he'd been in the industry almost a decade, moving past the internalized and societally-imposed scrutiny he felt for his career. it was other people that were ashamed, other people that turned their nose up at him because of what they assumed he was; sleazy, devious, a player. he'd had so many connections blow over because of it, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that happening with you.

you just stare at his back, watching it rise and fall with every laboured breath he takes. what was so bad about what he did that he couldn’t just tell you? he was obviously good at whatever it was, and you wondered if it was a front for something. maybe he disarmed you with his nice guy act, and he lured you here to kill you an—-

the clink of glass on glass brings you back to reality. mike is beside you again, staring blankly ahead while he wrings his hands.

“i’m a pornstar,” he utters plainly. he squeezes his eyes shut, expecting you to make a noise of disgust or get up and leave, but you don’t.

he opens one eye, and then both. you’re staring at him with no concrete expression, lips pursed. he closes his eyes again, counting in his head before opening them once more.

you’re still there, and it almost makes him cry.

“that checks out,” you muse. you’re fairly non reactive, but not because his admission freaks you out. you’re thinking back to the awards, the sheer amount of them in that case, and how good he really must be at what he does. “why didn’t you want to tell me?”

he runs a hand through his hair, melting into his couch with boyish reserve. his eyes are a mixed bag, bouncing between relief and despair. “people run every time i tell them. lots of them act like i just told them i killed their childhood pet and it's just so...disheartening, y'know?

"i just don't get it because it's just like any other job. you work, fucking hard, because you want to perform at your best, just like anyone else. the stigma around it never goes away, no matter how hard you try to convince people. they think you get around outside of it, having sex every second of every day, or that you're gonna mess around with your coworkers and give them something. it's like the trust level is in hell before you're even able to prove yourself." you scoot closer to mike without a word and place your hands over his. his rings are cold against your palm.

it's a gentle gesture. the airy smile you give pacifies him and he swears he's never felt anything like what he feels now.

"i'm not here to judge you, mike. i never will. sex work is a completely valid career, just like anything else. i'm sorry about all those shitty people who made assumptions about you."

"no need to apologize," he whispers, adjusting his hands so that they cradle yours now. you tilt your head down bashfully, lashes fluttering. "all those times led me here."

you two chat for a long while. mike tells you all about the production company he works for, how he got into the business, what his work schedule's like, the community of other stars that he works with, his stage name. you can tell he's passionate about it, lost in his rambles and talking with his hands. certain words segue your convo into other topics, like books and food and pop culture. you two have a lot more than coffee in common.

"i was surprised you didn't recognize me, honestly. not in a douchey way, but just because everyone does. it's usually the first thing they come up to me with." you could only imagine, being approached with "i've come to all of your work" in the condiment aisle at the grocery store.

"i don't watch professional porn really. too staged for me."

"i get that. i think you'd like our content. we really found a good balance between professional quality and ethical, genuine, safe fun."

you try to stay nonchalant, not wanting to betray the fact that you're itching to watch something of his work. "that's really nice. i bet you have quite the catalog."

"almost ten years worth so, yeah, i'd say," he chuckles, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth. "enough about me though. what do you do for work?"

"nothing as exciting and well-paying as porn. i type letters and numbers into a computer in a cubicle. it barely pays the bills, but i've worked in too many customer service jobs to ever go back." mike agrees. you're about to say something else when you're interrupted by a yawn, unhinging your jaw like an animal. you quickly cover your mouth, muttering, "jeez. sorry." you didn't realize it, but you were tired, exhausted from the night you had.

"it's okay, it is pretty late." he checks the time on his phone and turns it to you. 2:23 am. had you two really been talking on this couch for 3 hours? "i can show you to the guest room if you're tired. i have a shoot tomorrow anyway so i should get to bed too."

"sure," you whisper, grabbing his hand when he extends it to you. he pulls you to your feet like you weigh nothing at all, and you tail behind him like a lovesick puppy.

you're feeling that tingly ball of warmth in your stomach, the one you've felt with every person you thought you'd marry. you usually indulge in it, but with mike, it scares you. why do you feel like this after one night with a man you barely even know?

it's rash and inappropriate, you decide, and you're still convincing yourself as you slide under the black satin sheets and duvet on mike's king sized guest bed. you recline on the satin-covered pillows, sinking into the memory foam. it's a nice departure from your noisy childhood mattress back at home.

"do you have work tomorrow?" you shake your head, and mike claps his hands together with a cheer.

"yay. i'll be leaving around 8 or so, but feel free to sleep in and hang around as long as you want. the remote for the blinds is right there, i'll put a toothbrush out for you, and there's all kinds of food in the kitchen. help yourself. just let me know when you're leaving so i can lock the door."

your eyes squint. "you're gonna lock the door after i leave?"

mike nods, smiling excitedly and geekily diving into his rationale. "mhm, i have a smart lock. i can do it from my phone."

you're so tired that the words just foolishly tumble out of your mouth. "you must have great dick."

mike lets out a laugh that's a blend of flattered, nervous, and amused and you're both red-cheeked and flustered. "i am so fucking sorry, i, uh..y--" you stammer over all of your words, finally able to wrench out, "a smart lock just sounds expensive."

mike stares you down with fascination, backing towards the door. "watch the videos and find out for yourself, yeah?" he winks at you, and you gulp so loudly you're sure he hears. "goodnight, y/n. sleep well.”

"you too,” you croak.

you're out like a light once he leaves, but not before telling yourself to put up a new sticky note at home: “watch mike's porn."

you awake what feels like days later, refreshed and made anew. you click on the remote for the curtains, and they rise slowly, flooding the room with rich early afternoon sun. the clock on the nightstand reads 12:38 pm.

you hop to your feet and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face before stalking to the living room. it's filled with light, and you think about how you'd probably never be depressed living in a place like this.

a box, red and moderately sized, sits upon the kitchen counter. you think you should ignore it, but as you get closer, you see a paper with your name scrawled across it. you like your name in mike's voice and handwriting.

you pull up the lid and inside is your dress from last night with the tag missing, two fat wads of hundred dollar bills, and another note that reads, “you deserve to feel beautiful and pay your rent <3 call this number when you're ready to go home. -m”.

in this moment, you're 100% positive that you're falling in love.

wow wow wow wow. they are so fucking CUTE! i love themmmmmmm <3 hopefully this tides y'all over for a bit because i need to outline the rest of their story, and i wanna work on some other stories for a little bit 💜 more parts are definitely coming, have no fear! i'd also like to say that while i use y/n in my stories, reader is typically a character that i'm inventing. using your own name and likeness while you read is totally fine, of course! i just use y/n as a placeholder name for my reader character bc i don't feel like coming up with character names all the time <3 sorry if that doesn't make sense 💔 i hope you all enjoyed! happy reading my seedlings 🌱💜

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtsss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz

[ultimateissuessimp]

Could you do Cat King x gn reader, they are a mage that came to port Townsend and tried to warn Edwin about using magic on cats. As they escort the dead boy detectives to the King they try to have Thomas go easy on Edwin. Cat King gets a little jealous as to why his partner wants to let Edwin off easy. (Edwin reminds the reader of their younger sibling they haven’t seen in while)

I love, love, LOVE this request SO MUCH! Thank you for giving me the honour of writing it! I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

For me? For you.

The Cat King x GN Reader

Word count: 3,041

Warnings: A dead body appearing, but only for a second and without gruesome description, some jealousy coming from the Cat King and a mention of having a dead younger sibling

Y/N had known about the Dead Boy Detectives Agency for quite some time now. They had been watching the two boys' adventures the moment they heard about them, taking care of bigger problems when they encounter them from the shadows, taking on a role of a guardian angel. Well, guardian mage, but the point stands. The reason why they took such interest in those boys was because one of them, Edwin Payne, reminded them of their little brother who died quite a long time ago due to an illness that even magic couldn't cure. They stayed with their brother until Death showed up to collect them.

So the moment they felt their presence in Port Townsend alognside a very skilled medium, they had to finally show themself to the trio. A small lesson in dos and don'ts when it came to this town, something that would not only keep them safe, but also inform them about what could be hiding in it.

Y/N teleported themself into the little apartment that Crystal was renting, scaring the three people inside it to death. Well, at least one of them since the other two were already dead. Immediately Charles got into an offensive stance, ready to fight if needed while Edwin remained cautious and Crystal stood behind both of them, still a bit in shock, a fight or flight mode ready to go in a case of an emergency.

-Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?! - Charles asked, hand at the ready to reach for his cricket bat. At the same time Edwin was thinking of different exits out of the possible danger.

-Calm down, calm down. I come here as a messenger - Y/N said, raising their hands up in defense before crossing them over their chest and looking the trio over. - You could say I've been observing from the shadows what you've been doing for quite some time now. The difference now is that you're in a new place you have no knowledge of. There are dangers here. Rules even. If you like your peace, keep to them. Most important would be to stay away from the cats. Don't even think about using magic on them, you don't want to find out what will happen if you do - they stated, uncurling their index finger as they started talking about the first rule. Then the second one when they mentioned watching out for a witch that lived in Port Townsend, a menace to deal with. Then another one and another one until they were out of fingers to show and rules to tell.

-Why the hell would we believe anything you just said? - Charles asked, suspicious look on his face as he carefully observed Y/N, not even for a second dropping his guard.

-Because I saved your ass so many times you could at least try to trust me. Remember that nasty poltergeist in 30 East Drive, Pontefract? How you got cornered because he smashed all the mirrors and quite literally trapped you inside that house? Yeah, that was me. So have some faith kids. Alright, that should be it. Remember what I said and don't get into any trouble. If you dive, head first, into deep shit, then I don't know how well my influence in town could help to save you. Again - they said before doing a little wave with their fingers and dissappearing in a swirl of black fog.

You'd think that after such a warning, people would listen. Yeah, not Edwin. As much as Charles is stubborn, he's somewhat not dumb enough to not listen to someone who clearly wants to help them, albeit reluctant. Crystal doesn't even know much what to do, so she wouldn't try anything either way, but Edwin... Oh Edwin. Mr. Edwin, Know-It-All, I-Know-Better-Than-You, Why-Should-I-Listen-To-You?, Payne. Of course he would be the one so intelligent, yet so stupidly stubborn, to pull shit like that.

Obviously he just HAD to cast a magic spell on a cat. Now not only does Y/N have to save his ass from a harsh punishment, they also have to deal with a certain moody Cat King that was currently throwing a hissy fit, pacing around and cursing out everything in bloody existence. Y/N rubbed their temples as they listened to their partner rant continously.

-The nerve! Magic! On my cats! They'll be lucky if they walk out of here alive! - Thomas said angrily, running a hand through his hair as he did another circle in front of his throne.

-My love, will you take a deep breath with me, please? I'm sure there's a logical explanation to this. I know you're mad, I understand where that's coming from, I really do, but let's not make rushed decisions okay? - Y/N proposed, walking over to Thomas and stopping him gently by placing their hands on top of his shoulders, before sliding them down his arms to his hands, catching them in theirs and holding tightly.

-Sugar, I don't think there's a logical enough explanation to using magic on my fucking cats - the Cat King hissed out, before finally closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath to slightly calm down, not wanting to lash out on his partner.

-I'm sure there is. Will you hear him out at least? - Y/N asked, rubbing soothing circles with their thumbs into the backs of Thomas' hands, wanting to calm him down a bit more.

-Him? Kitty cat, it sounds to me like you know who it was - Thomas said, slight accusation in his voice as he looked at Y/N with his head slightly shifted to the side, eyebrows furred as a scowl started appearing on his face making Y/N cup his cheeks in their hands.

-I think I know who it is for almost a hundred percent, but I've warned them that they would be wise to stay away from your cats - they said, pressing their forehead against Thomas', hoping that they convinced him at least just a bit to go easy on Edwin without particularly saying anything.

-Yet they didn't listen now did they? - The man asked, huffing out some air before wrapping his arms around their waist. - I'll think about being less harsh, but there still must be a punishment. No one gets away with hurting or damaging what belongs to me - he added before planting a kiss on Y/N's lips.

It was finally time for the trio to have a little talk with the Cat King. He had already sent the cat Edwin used the magic on to go and fetch them, but Y/N wanted to be there too before they actually get there to give them another small advice. They promised Thomas that they'll be back soon before they departed in a swirl of black fog like the one before.

-You've done fucked up. What did I tell you, huh? Stay away from the cat and what did you do? You went and used MAGIC on one. Are you out of your mind, Edwin Payne? - Y/N asked with a certain edge to their voice, clearly very annoyed with, mostly Edwin, the group, because there was no guarantee that Thomas would actually go easy on all of them. Especially with all of their smart mouths that only get them into even more trouble.

-I don't see what's all the fuss about. It's just a bit of magic - the ghost teenager said, rolling his eyes sassily before placing his hands on his hips to add even more sass to his statement.

-Don't give me that attitude, young man, you have no idea in what deep shit you are and I specifically told you not to dive head first into any shit. It already took me some time to try and get him to calm down and not send out a swarm of cats to rip you to shreds. Talk any more shit and I won't be able to get your ass out of this one - Y/N said, crossing their arms over their chest as they stared Edwin down before Charles chimed in.

-Him? Who's him? And why is he so important that you speak of him as if he was about to send Edwin back to the pits of Hell? - he asked with a look of confusion on his face as he looked simultaneously at Y/N and the cat that was now sitting a few feet behind them, patiently waiting to continue navigating the group to the warehouse.

-You'll see soon enough. Now come on. There's no time to waste - they said before finally turning sideways and gesturing to their right as an indicator for the teenagers to finally move.

When they got inside the warehouse, Y/N couldn't help, but smile softly and shake their head at their boyfriend's antics. Of course he would put on a show. He wouldn't be the diva cat that he was if he didn't. As they approached the throne and the cats dispersed from before it, leaving only a very massacred body behind alongside three disturbed teenagers with an unfazed mage in front of them, the said teenagers behind Y/N observed the orange cat with confusion and caution written on their faces.

-We were invited to see the Cat King - Edwin said, trying not to let the shakiness in his voice after seeing the dead guy before the be heard.

The trio flinched when the cat disappeared in purple fire, making space for the gorgeous man that is Y/N's boyfriend to appear. They smiled brightly at him and bowed down jokingly, making the Cat King chuckle with endearment, just to get that fire back into his eyes that spoke of danger and anger at not only the disrespect of his rules, but also endangerment of one of his subjects after he saw the group behind his partner.

-Hi - he said as he observed the trio, a faux friendly smile on his face.

-Can all cats do that? - Crystal asked the boys quietly, yet not quiet enough that the Cat King didn't hear which only made him chuckle in amusement.

-"Can all cats do that?" Of course not, I'm a Cat KING - He answered, putting an emphasis on the 'king' part, going full on sass as he usually did. - I can tell you're not the brains of the operation. Sorry, I'm already bored - Thomas added, making a rather mean comment, which he didn't really seem to care about, wanting to get to the center of the problem quickly.

-No need to be rude, darling - Y/N said with a gentle pout to their face before they walked over to where Thomas was sitting and stood right next to the throne, putting their hand on the man's shoulder, a little sign that he could tone it down a bit.

-Hmm - The Cat King only mused before letting out a soft sigh and turning his head towards the cats gathered in the back. - Which one of them used the magic on you? - he asked the cat that fell victim of Edwin's antics.

-The scrawny one that just had the nerve to talk to you - the cat answered, clearly showcasing where the it's personality came from.

That brought out a little 'oh' out of Thomas, before Edwin spoke up again, trying to explain what they were doing and who they were until the Cat King interrupted him.

-Oh I don't care. Using magic on my cats is a total car crash on your part - He said with a cynical smile before lazily pointing with his index towards Edwin. - We... Should discuss your offense. Privately- the man added while standing up from the throne.

Of course Charles didn't like that and tried to stop anything from happening, but Y/N shook their head as a signal not to do it. It would only make the matter worse and they already had a plan of action, so he could screw it up with his little outburst. Edwin talked it out with the other two while Y/N walked over to Thomas and slightly fixed his messy hair, sighing softly as they thought over what to do when they actually go and sort this out.

When the trio came back, Thomas departed himself, Y/N and Edwin to the bedroom they both shared. Weird choice of a place to sort this situation out, but Y/N didn't really question it. Out loud at least.

-So... What should your punishment be? - Thomas said with a large amused grin as he stepped closer towards Edwin.

-How about something that wouldn't involve dangerous things that would result in Edwin going to the afterlife? - Y/N proposed an idea with arms crossed over their chest and eyebrows slightly raised as they looked at their lover with a, just a smidge, pleading look.

-Why not? I don't think that would really be over the top. Seems quite fitting in my opinion - the Cat King said shrugging his shoulders with a smirk as he looked back towards Y/N.

-Please? He just made a mistake. A dumb one, I admit, but it was a mistake. He shouldn't have to lose his ghost life for that - they said, straightening their pose before slightly tilting their head to the side as they kept their gaze only on Thomas.

Clearly he didn't like that constant defending of the boy coming from his partner, so he decided to have a small talk with them off to the side, excusing them both for a moment before guiding Y/N to the one spot he knew Edwin wouldn't see or hear much.

-Why do you care about this ghostly twink so much? What, do you find him cute, is that what it is? I've got to admit, he's quite cute, but I'm literally right here, hello? - Thomas began asking a series of questions, an aura of jealousy surrounding him as he loosely caged Y/N against the wall, his cat personality clearly kicking in as the respect for personal space completely flew out of the window in a matter of seconds when he leaned in so their faces were centimeters away.

-What? No! Kitty cat, he just... He reminds me of Alexander... They both didn't get to grow up and they are similar so much personality wise... I can't help but see Alexander in him, even though I know that he had moved on to the afterlife. Somewhere where I can't follow. Not yet - Y/N explained, letting out a sigh before turning their head and looking off to the side at the clear as day memory of their younger brother filled their mind.

-Shit... I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions... - He said with a look filled with guilt before he rested his head against their shoulder, wrapped his arms around their waist and closed his eyes. - I'll go easy on him for you. Give him something not too hard to do, looking at the fact that he seems like a clever fella. He will have to stay here for quite some time to do that though - Thomas added after pressing apologetic, small kiss against the skin of their neck and then pulling away a bit to look into their eyes.

-Really? You'll do that for me? - they asked quietly, looking back at Thomas with a soft smile.

-For you. Always for you - he said and leaned it to capture their lips with his own in a sweet, short kiss.

After that they went back to Edwin who was looking around, more than likely looking for a way out, but even if he wanted to run, he would get lost, so that would be unsuccessful.

-Alright. I've got just the right punishment for you - Thomas said, stretching out his arms to the sides slightly with a large grin on his face. - Show me your arm. Come on, I don't have the whole night - he told Edwin, doing a little 'Come on' motion with his hand at the same time he said it out loud.

-For what? - Edwin asked cautiously, clearly not trusting the Cat King. Obviously so. After all he was about to receive a punishment that he had no idea what it was.

-Edwin, just do it - Y/N said, encouraging the teenager with a small smile and a nod of their head.

Finally, the boy agreed, although reluctantly, and stretched out his arm towards the Cat King before pulling it quickly back when a gold bracelet showed up around it.

-What is this? - Edwin asked with suspicion, immediately trying to take it off yet finding himself unable to do so.

-A little piece of jewellery that will keep reminding you of your punishment. All you have to do is count all the cats that reside in Port Townsend. It will also keep you in the town for that time. Until you finish counting of course. Also only the one who put it on can take it off, so I'd recommend hurrying if you want to go back to wherever you came from - the Cat King said, a cheeky smirk on his face as he observed the boy's flabbergasted expression with amusement.

When Edwin started lamenting and protesting that the task was unfair and impossible to do, Thomas explained why he received such a punishment before sending him back to the other two teenagers while Y/N and him stayed back in the bedroom.

Y/N walked over to the Cat King, wrapping their arms around the man's neck and leaning in to press a sweet kiss, thanking him without words while he wrapped his arms around their middle and pulled them close.

-That went well. Next time he pulls something stupid, then you won't be able to save his ass from the harsher punishment though - he said before burying his face in their neck and simply resting there.

-Yeah, yeah, we'll see about that - they said, both of them knowing how different the reality will be if such a thing actually happens. Y/N having so much control over Thomad without trying too much. After all, the Cat King was such a romantic and he hated it.

[moii3]

My Candy Love New Gen Ep.7 Review!

Spoiler Ahead, Obviously

Another day, another short episode. I think off the bat, im dissapointed with how short the episodes are. I really think they need to get it together with the amount of content. It's just not enough and it doesn't help that we have to wait for almost a month every single time for a new ep.

I just had to point this out because since i've been replaying the Eldarya TO, i just started to appriciate how beemov games used to have longer, more filling, structured episodes and stories compared to now. Maybe this is too early for me to say since we are only 7 episodes in. Who knows? Maybe Beemov will actually start to have an enemies to lovers arc between the writers and the new gen game. Anyways..

The ep starts out with Candy complaining to my love Elenda (and soon the whole office) about how difficult it is to live with her annoying mom and sister. Seriously, we see from the flashback that Candy's mother basically insinuates that she didn't think she would have to live with her adult ass daughter in her house. Both Tasha and the Mother(i forget her name) were pretty rude abt it in my opinion. Instead of talking with Candy about house rules they just go on like nothing happened, and make it clear that she is just a guest. Not a part of the household.

Mentioning of TikTok was thrown in one scene for good mesure lmao

As they all hear the story, Devon decides everyone in the office should help Candy look for an apartment. They apperantly don't have anything else to do the whole day.

It almost feels like a little bit Mary Sue-ish. Everyone taking turns wasting their free work hour trying to find Candy an apartment, making it a competition seems comical and unrealistic. (not everything has to be so realistic but it's just ridicilous atp). They are literally racing to find this rich adult woman a place to live...

When it comes to the actual apartment hunting, Thomas's route was a roller coaster 😭. Since apperantly no one rents apartment to stinky stinky singles, LI s jump in to save the day, pretending to be our partners during the apartment showing.

Thomas had both me and the realtor gagged the whole time.

(sorry for the whack screenshots)

I was cringing big time

ma'am please be quiet...

A bit awkward? You're telling me..

Just as we think we are over with this, leaving the apartment, he kisses Candy.

I saw some people saying they didn't like how this kiss came about and i have to agree. He calls it "our little ritiual" , apperantly to convince the realtor. We know that's bullshit and it was kind of an excuse to kiss her. I don't like that Candy is in a cornered position to accept the kiss and it felt kind of unneccesary, no matter how hyped everyone was about it.

Like if this is the dude we will eventually gonna fall in love with& date, it's kind of a bummer that their first kiss had to be "fake". I know they thought of it like a little romantic game Candy had to play to get close to Thomas but i really think even for this it was kinda underwhelming.

I also saw other illustrations from different routes and Roy's has to be my favourite. I wish it was more romantic like that and actually made sense. Anyway..

Anyways, after they leave the house, Thomas gets back to the nonchalant attitude again (obviously) which, gagges Candy again.

Like i said, i don't really like how this kiss happened and i think even for Thomas this was kind of crazy.

If i was the realtor, i would honestly block their numbers and hope that Thomas wouldn't show up at my house to wear my skin the very same night. He deserves some kind of compensation.

I'm gonna keep doing these reviews no matter who reads them, this is for me and my ranting. But i hope you like it! Oh, I also will rate these episodes out of 10.

For my first rating on this series, I'm givinf this episode an underwhelming 5/10

Best part is that this ain't even about the house anymore, even realtor knows he fucked up and they are not gonna choose this house.

Until next time, xx

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 8/?

Prev | Next

I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, my laptop broke, and it took a while to save the money up to fix it.

Here's the next chapter; sorry it's so short

They’re looking for you.

Jason had received the text from Roy not even a minute ago. He didn’t have to ask who ‘they’ were. Jason knew the Bats wouldn’t leave well enough alone and let him live his life, but he had hoped. He sighed; he couldn’t worry about that now.

“Everything’s okay, daddy?”

“Everything’s fine. Let’s go finish packing your things.”

Jason had found a new place for them to stay in the following days since they found Jazz and Ellie. Thankfully, he had money, or they would’ve been stuck in the small cabin for a while. Jason smiled as he watched Danny hum while putting away his few toys.

The cabin had come furnished, so Jason had bought new furniture to be delivered to the small three-bedroom house he had rented. It wouldn’t be their permanent living space. It was only until he could buy a bigger house.

The kids would have the smallest rooms, Jazz would have the biggest, and Jason would take the second-biggest. He didn’t have much and hadn’t had a chance to take his books out of storage yet, anyway. Jazz walked into the room and watched Danny while she fed Ellie a bottle. He didn’t have much and hadn’t had a chance to take his books out of storage yet, anyway. Jazz walked into the room and watched Danny while she fed Ellie a bottle.

Ellie waved at Jason and then smiled. Jason couldn’t help but smile back; she looked so much like Danny.

“I have to thank you again for doing this for us.”

“Nonsense, Danny is my kid now, and you’re his sister, well, my sister. Family sticks together.”

Jason and Jazz were now the Nightingale siblings. They were raising their kids as single parents. If asked, Danny’s mother died during childbirth, and Jazz’s no-good boyfriend left her and their daughter behind. The two siblings decided to pool their resources together and raise the two cousins under one roof.

 Jazz had just turned eighteen, but her new fake ID said she was twenty. Jason had aged himself up, too. He was twenty-three instead of twenty.

“Not many people would help a random kid they met in an alley, let alone adopt him and then take in his sister and clone.”

Jason shrugged, “I’m not like many people.”

He ignored the voice that told him he was becoming Bruce.

“Besides, I’m being selfish; Danny has helped me with my pit madness.”

“His ectoplasm was yucky, Jazzy.”

Ellie finished her bottle, and Jazz helped burp her.

“Hmm,” Jazz hummed while looking a Jason. It made him want to squirm.

“Once we settle into the new place, I’ll tell you both what happened in our dimension. Right now, I’m too tired to recount things.”

“That’s fine, Jazz. Take your time. I’m not in a hurry to find out why I’m so small.”

“He’s right,” Jason reassured her, “you don’t have to tell us yet; you’ve been through a lot.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Jason smiled, “now, who’s ready to see their new home?”

____

“Roy, please, I need help.”

Roy gritted his teeth; he was tired of Dick pestering him.

“You have the rest of the Titans looking for the poor guy, and Batdad probably has Superman on his ass. You don’t need me.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re not in a hurry to look for him to find out if he’s okay. It’d be one thing if you knew already—unless,” Dick’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course; why didn’t I see it earlier? You do know where Jason is, and you didn’t tell anyone?!”

Roy dodged the first punch but was unable to escape the kick. Dick got him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

“Where is he?”

Roy almost forgot how much of a bad temper Dick had and how scary he could be.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I swear to God, Roy if you don’t tell me where my little brother is…”

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Dick scowled and let go of Roy. As Roy walked away, Dick yelled after him.

“We will find Jason and bring him back home.”

Roy ignored the man; he was too full of himself.

Reminder that you can leave me prompts

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling

[cchapsticck]

A couple things: 

The first album he ever owned that he got to choose on his own was Master of Reality when Wayne handed him 5 bucks at the used record store after he picked him up from foster. And he’s pretty sure Children of the Grave changed his brain chemistry. Like something in him got hard re-wired and soldered in place. Like there’s no unfixing that fix.

The first song he ever learned to play on Wayne’s old beater acoustic was Here Comes The Sun, but if anyone asks he says it was Smoke on the Water, which was actually second but the truth is possibly humiliating, considering his curated reputation.

He cannot read music. Which is funny, considering he’s had a “band” since 7th grade. He just kind of picks at shit by ear. Which he’s pretty good at, thank you very much. It's why he likes shit with solos, he can pick out a riff better than he can pick out a chord progression.

Said band did not lock down members with any kind of permanence until 10th and no one had any kind of electrified instrument until 11th because Jeff and Phil and Gareth might be better off than he is - drug money notwithstanding - but tuns out parents aren’t keen to just drop that kind of money so one’s kid can fuck around in another kid’s garage every couple weekends for that kind of price tag

Metal shows are few and far between in Roane County, considering all the ways it is. But the couple no-name bands that have breezed through town at the dive-iest of bars the county has to offer well - he doesn’t want to say, changed his life but - but he’s never been so glad to have been elbowed in the face because everyone’s having a good fucking time and without the accompanying “faggot” attached to the act, which he’s had a repeat performance of just. Generally. In his life outside of the shittest bars in Indiana.  

He’s not saying Zepplin II made him gay but Robert Plant’s face pasted onto that German soldier’s body made him feel some kind of way at a formative age and that’s maybe just something he’s going to take to the grave even if apparently the shittiest of shitheads just decided that was a true thing about him on their own.

Steve Harrington has been hot since, like, junior high. Which is horseshit. Because like, first of all. He sucks. Like, he’s a douche. But Barb Holland died and he ended up in the hospital because apparently those two things are related events and rumor has it he got kicked out of his house and he shaved his head about it and there are a shocking number of scars hidden under that disco hair and that, unfortunately, does not make him less hot or less of a douche. 

Another thing: Dustin Henderson is fucking annoying. Like annoying in the unremarkable way all nerds are annoying that he’s a little dead to (like sometimes he catches himself mid-tirade and thinks ‘damn, I’d kick my ass too’) so he gets it but also. He’s fucking annoying. He’s fucking annoying about Steve Harrington in particular which like. Hilarious. Go figure. 

And he’s got a lot of annoying ammunition in that particular annoying gun, because apparently Harrington’s been living in his basement. So the kicked out thing is probably true. A lot of what he’s got to say is anecdotal. Lives in the basement. Pays rent. Makes dinner for Henderson’s mom. Drives him to school. Owns a bat with nails in it? Which. Alright? That makes about as much sense as anything else going on. The weirdly dense law enforcement presence in the wake of the Holland murder (and those are feds, like, he knows cops, he grew up around a lot of cops - thanks Dad - these are not cops) and the ever evolving whatever-this-is of Steve Harrington which he is for sure paying a normal amount of attention to and not unloading his guts at Gareth and Jeff who for sure don’t want to kick his ass about it because are we all seeing this shit? It's been like 5 years of high school and this is a puzzle he is no closer to solving, as he is no closer to graduating. And it's not because he’s being a dipshit about Harrington’s gradual transformation no matter what Gareth keeps insisting. (he’s being a dipshit about graduating because he’s a dipshit - separate problem)

But like, something is for sure going on with Steve Harrington. And fuck him dead because he is desperate to pick it apart. It's got nothing to do with the horny goblin in his brain barking about the, shall we say, aesthetic realignment here (which maybe, like, is coming for the integrity of his own genre cred but like. Come on, man.) and it's got everything to do with someone like Steve Fucking Harrington willfully abdicating the throne to throw himself amongst the Maligned With Problems The World Will Make Your Fault. Like he had to have known the flavor of hell people like him and Hagan and every other one of those silver spoon fucks made of his life. And not just his, just like, anyone remotely adjacent in the social order. 

There’s this kind of unspoken truth at shows. Like metal, hardcore, whatever, any genre within a genre that fills up bars like this, like he’s pretty sure the punks even have this rule, this remains true: the more normal the guy looks the more fucked in the head he is. That guy is dangerous. That guy is working through some shit you cannot even begin to conceive of and this is only outlet he’s got. Like that guy will straight murder you if you come at him wrong in a pit and everyone knows it. You do not fuck with that guy. You do not make eye contact with that guy. So Steve Harrington in his tightass Levi’s and bright white fresh out the 3-pack t-shirt hugging the back wall of the Hideout on a Thursday night sure is a red flag. But red’s always been his favorite color, so-

So he buries his shoulder blades in the wall right next to him and hits him with a of all the gin joints and Steve just squints at him like he’s got no fucking clue what he’s talking about. Figures. Harrington always seemed like a philistine. Steve just runs his hand over his shaved short head, and Eddie swears he can hear the rasp of Steve’s palm over the noise of the bar. 

“You come here often?” And it's not not a come on and he’s a little prepared to get decked but it's also a genuine question. 

“It’s work.” Steve says, not unkindly but not really looking at him either. Like he’s not really interested in the conversation or Eddie at all.

“It’s work?”

And that gets Steve looking and he does not look impressed. It's cute. Which probably says more about Eddie’s ability to turn disdain into some semblance of private affection but we’re not going to unpack that bag we’re just going to throw the whole suitcase out. 

“Well, I can’t work the bar so I just pull people out of the pit. Work the door sometimes.” Steve says over the noise of the bar, by way of explanation.

“How about that?” he says with no small amount of genuine awe. “Mall work not cutting it for you, then?”

Steve just kind of one shoulder shrugs. Not cutting it in the sense that the mall like, fuckin’ burned down but. Y’know. Speaking in kind of a general hypothetical kind of way. Looking for a new career path kind of way. Less about the mall directly. Or at all. 

“Yes and no. I got punched less by skinheads at the mall.” and that almost sounds like a joke, like Harrington isn’t totally hating this conversation. Delightful. 

“And you’d willingly go into this line of work when Henderson says you can’t win a fight?” he says it like he means it, like he’s actually surprised. Because he is. Because getting laid out at a show is just some shit that happens sometimes. Assholes with something to prove, the wrong guy took an elbow at the wrong time, a drunk got in the pit and doesn’t know the difference between a good time and a fight, like, shit happens. 

Steve’s scrunched up face of repulsion and offense is additionally cute. 

“Yeah well, Henderson says a lot of shit about you too.” 

He may have been operating on the assumption that Steve actually had no idea who he was. And was just some weird guy who, for some reason, had a lot of personal information about him that was in no way reciprocated. Just kind of figured he would have been beneath Harrington’s notice in a big picture kind of way. 

Fuck you, Henderson, how dare you. 

“Only glowing reviews, I’m sure.”

“More or less.”

Alright he’ll take back point two, then. You’re on thin ice, Henderson. 

“Is that where the uh-” and he kind of gestures limply at the pit and then towards the thick, formerly stapled up scarring in Steve’s hairline. Like he’s come home from a show with a bloody nose or a black eye or two but nothing like that.

“No.”

It's the finality in his tone, when he says it that makes him suspect he’s fucked this up and the conversation is over.

And it is. 

So he hangs around the bar for the set and then he leaves and its not really all that interesting. 

But he thinks about that for a while, that something rattled Steve Harrington’s cage so hard he’s this now. Somewhere in the realm of quietly fucked up, and on the edges of good sensibility and good taste because its more comfortable out of a spotlight. Even if the dark on the edge of that pool of light is more than a little dangerous, but at least there’s a place to hide. 

And then Chrissy Cunningham dies on his ceiling and he has to keep hiding.  

[tojisun]

🧸Toji Fushiguro is an interesting friend…

🧸Toji will casually walk into your house, rummage your fridge, & fix himself a snack BEFORE he’s says hello

🧸 Toji will randomly appear in your home. Sometime you’ll come home to hear him in the shower or see him sleeping on your couch or exercising in your living room

🧸 One day Toji started leaving a envelope filled with a wad of cash for “his rent” on the table at the first of every month wait you don’t remember him moving him

🧸 Before you know it, you & Toji frequently hang out together it’s almost like y’all are dating

🧸 Toji starts referring to your home as “our home” out of no where. What’s yours is automatically his too and vice versa. This is non-negotiable

🧸💍 And before he knows it: Toji Fushiguro is sitting in a restaurant with his family. He’s happily watching the sight in front of him. Megumi, his 2 yr old son, bonding with his future mom a.k.a Toji’s pregnant fiancée over the his favorite tv show. Toji just cannot believe how lucky he is to finally have peace. To have someone as patient and understanding. For his son to potentially grow up in a stable household. Toji’s not sure why or how he became so blessed, but he’s swears on his 6 pack that he will fight to keep this little slice of heaven on Earth

OMGNSJDJS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!

im just imagining the transition from you two being roommates to becoming couple and it’s making me lose my mind ngl 😭

“hey, did you know we were dating?” toji asks, his voice breaking the silence between you two. the rerun of an old episode of some cartoon served as white noise while you and toji went about your businesses — him, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, and you, head buried on a book.

you look up from your place on the beanbag, your eyes narrowed in confusion as you turned to toji who’s laying on the sofa that he could barely fit in, his long legs dangling from the armrest. he peers up at you from his phone and wiggles his eyebrows at you as he smiles, his scarred lips dancing in mirth.

“we were?” you ask, confused.

toji turns his phone towards you as if you can see the tiny screen given the distance between you two. “yeah,” he says. “gojo’s askin’ why we didn’t tell them the news.” he turns his phone to himself again after that before tapping at his screen.

“what’d you say?” you managed to get out, shutting your book close and belatedly realizing you forgot to mark the page you were on.

toji shrugs. how he managed to do that while being squished on the sofa, you do not know. you hum, distracted.

sure you and toji were close — too close, some of your mutual friends would say — but you always assumed it was normal because you and toji have been friends for years now. three years in university, where you two first met, and three years more after finding each other in tokyo — something you didn’t even think was possible because after graduation, you and toji went on your separate ways.

but it’s not like your friends did anything less. hell, you even walked in on shoko — shirtless and only reduced in booty shorts and her sports bra — sitting on suguru’s lap while she put eyeliner on him. you didn’t even bat an eye at the display because that had been normal for all of you guys. so you wonder why was sharing a flat with toji, sharing clothes with toji, and having you two cook for each other was dubbed as too intimate.

you pause, mind reeling a little bit because now that you thought about it—

“oh,” toji says, breaking through your ruminating. “i said we wanted to take things slow.”

you blink, your heart stuttering in your chest. you turn to toji, your lips parted in surprise.

“huh?”

“well, you know.” you do not know. “i was thinking about it and it’s not a bad idea for us to date.” it isn’t?

“it isn’t?” you repeat, this time out loud.

toji sits up from the sofa. “it isn’t.” his eyes are serious as they gazed at you. “wanna make it official? us two?”

“oh,” you utter, breathless. “sure.”

toji smiles, his gaze turning soft. “really?”

“yeah,” you say, this time feeling your own lips tugging in a smile. “i’d love that.”

“me too,” he whispers before he is standing up to cross the distance between you two, kneeling down in front of you, his face inches away from yours. you look into his eyes, see the question, and in reply, you cross the minimal distance and slot your lips with his.

toji’s lips wobble from where they are pressed to yours, before his hands cup your cheeks, angling his head better, and then devouring you; devoting all of his piled up love for you into this moment. into this kiss.

you gasp, rattled from the desperation of his touch, before kissing back just as passionately.

when your eyes close, your skin breaking out in goosebumps, you wonder: how long had he been waiting for this?

(“too long,” toji would tell you later, his chest pressed on your back. your cheeks would warm up and you would hide your face behind your palms as toji chuckles, his shoulders shaking and his deep voice reverberating between your naked bodies. “and you’re so damn worth every second.”)

[marcelllyn]

Again

After a long time I decided to come back, I admit I was finding my writing garbage. But anyway, I hope the few people who read this enjoy it. And also look forward to fanfics about my passion of the month, Captain America.

Part 1

Synopsis: A failed actress who is actually a professional hunter joins the Winchesters to solve a vampire case. But Dean, her ex, still has unhappy feelings for her.

Warnings: English is not my first language, imminent failure, and lots of cuteness.

It was a terrible idea to be on the street at that time, sitting on a suitcase in a dark alley, shedding tears of failure and resentment. Hollywood star. She was more like a Hollywood loser.

After another failed test, no money to rent a dirty motel room. My mother's harsh, harsh voice repeated in my head: "You will fail, you will fail, because this is not what you were born to do." Hunting, that's what I was born to do, at least that's what my parents thought.

With each failed test, these words spread more and more throughout my being, like blood running through my veins. Maybe I really was born to be a great hunter.

My melancholy was short-lived when I heard male voices approaching. I might not be afraid of demons or ghosts, but I was afraid of men at night. I raised my hand to pick up a piece of wood lying on the ground. The two men were arguing and ended up stopping at the edge of the alley, the dim light barely illuminating their faces.

— Dean, it's Dad's fault that girl got hurt! — The taller one said irritably. — How many times do I have to say that this obsession is unhealthy and hurts people?

— It's not intentional, Sammy! — The other said, running his hand across his forehead. — And that's no reason to yell at him like that and… I was standing, holding a piece of wood threateningly, but upon hearing Sammy's nickname, I lowered the bat.

— Winchesters? — I asked, still in a tearful voice.

The two of them furrowed their eyebrows and said together:

— Do we know you?

I walked a little closer, with a sweet smile on my face.

— It's a wonder they don't remember me. — He laughed softly. — Y/N Graham. It's been long years since John took you to my parents' house.

Dean raised his eyebrows as if his vague memory had returned.

— No kidding! — Dean said excitedly. — I thought I would never see you again, your parents said you became aimless or something the last time I went to visit them.

Aimless… very dignified.

— Actress, I became an actress. — I corrected him. — Sam, how you've grown!

Sam was a lot smaller when I was seventeen, and then suddenly he was taller than Dean. This made me feel old age knocking on the door.

— And you're still the same height. — Mess up my hair. I laughed and watched the two of them, Dean's nose was a little purple and Sam's face was bruised and melancholic.

— Still hunting?

— That wouldn't be new, it's just…

Family. — I added. — A very dangerous family thing. — I pointed to his nose. A minute silence remained between us.

— Actress, then? — Sam asked. — What kind of films do you make?

— I hope it's not the kind of movie I watch. Dean laughed.

— Until now, I've only acted in commercials and other small things. And unfortunately for you, Dean, no adult films. The three of us laughed together. A strange but familiar heat filled my body. And for a few seconds, it was Dean and I as teenagers and Sam, a pre-teen, sitting on the couch laughing like idiots.

—And what are you doing in a dark alley? Sammy asked.

— I'm having trouble finding a hotel. — I left out the part where I didn't have a dollar in my pocket.

Dean fake coughed, I always hated how he could read me like a book.

— You can stay the night in our hotel room. - He offered, picking up the bags that were on the floor. — As long as you need, the only detail… — He put his bags in the car. — John is there.

I rolled my eyes. But I couldn't do without a good room.

— For one night, I can bear it. — I laughed, sitting in the back seat.

I hope so. He's not in the best of moods, and it's enough of Sam being grumpy. — Dean got into the car, sitting in the driver's seat. — He and Dad are fighting all the time, I think I'm going crazy. Sam entered soon after. I noticed how silent he was, sadly silent. I deduced that it was John's fault, he was terrible, he always was.

— Did you finish talking, daddy? How old are you? Twelve? — I scoffed.

— Shut up, or I'll leave you on the street. — He pinched my nose. As if it were muscle memory.

The journey listening to Bon Jovi was calming, having my friends by my side again was an incredible thing, having Dean by my side was an incredible thing. He was always one of those boyfriends you never forget, the kind you'd tell your kids about when you were getting divorced. He was incredible, beautiful and had eyes… His green eyes were so beautiful they hurt.

— We’re here! — Dean said, parking and quickly getting out of the car. Sam remained silent.

— Sammy, I like how your hair looks, it’s stylish. — I poked him in a way to alleviate whatever it was.

— Only Dean calls me Sammy. — Those were his last words before getting out of the car.

I got out of the car, cradling myself between the seat that Sam — Damn two-door car — Sam was standing there looking at the sky, while the other one took the bags out of the car.

— How do you make money on hunts? — I asked curiously, since that motel didn't seem half-baked.

— You don't want to know.

— Gambling, right? — I laughed, approaching Dean and taking a small suitcase.

Dean laughed, carrying the heavier bags inside. And wow, how sexy he looked carrying those heavy suitcases. I walked up behind him, almost letting out a whistle. I entered the messy motel room, full of packages and clothes on the floor, typical of Dean, but lying on one of the beds was John reading a book.

— Home sweet home. - He put the bags in a corner. — Don't run out of hot water and don't you dare touch my suitcase.

— Why is there some rotten secret there? — She said provocatively close to his ear.

— We have a visitor. — John sat down.

— She's James Graham's daughter, you know that friend of yours who was always offering me champagne? — He takes some clothes off the other bed. — And she's my ex-girlfriend.

— I remember her, she was the one who broke my nose. — John said unsympathetically. — And he tried to convince Sam to leave the hunt.

—Things of the past. — She laughed embarrassedly. — I won't stay for long.

— I hope not, we have an important case and you are a distraction.

I took a deep breath.

-Are you hungry? — Dean took my arm almost like a plea. — There's a snack bar nearby.

— I'm not hungry, thank you. — I sat on the bed. — What case? Is it a vampire? Like Edward from Twilight? — He said, moving some discarded papers.

— Vampires aren't like Twilight's Edward. — Dean laughed, looking for something in the drawers. — But yes, it's a vampire case.

I stuck my tongue out at him. Deep down, the request to eat far away and be able to talk to him alone didn't seem so bad.

— You know what, I think I'm hungry. — I got up, heading towards the door.

Walking past the door, Sam was still outside, sitting on the hood of the car with his sad puppy face.

-Hey, Sam, go keep an eye on Dad. I'll take this lady out to eat. — Dean said, getting into the car.

Sam seemed to understand that it wasn't just a late-night snack. Even though Sam was my favorite, Dean was my ex-boyfriend.

— Of course, and don't come back late. — He replied somewhat apathetically.I got in the car, Dean started it and headed towards the most rotten cafeteria you could have, greasy tables, full trash cans, dead cockroaches in the corners, it was almost offensive to take someone to eat in that place.

— I could never get used to eating in a place like this. — I sat at the table, less filthy. — We have no danger of being attacked by vampires here. We have?

— Are you with Dean Winchester and are you scared of some vampires? — He laughed sarcastically. — Actress, then?

-Actress. — I let out a short, sad laugh. — You would make a good firefighter.

— Maybe when I'm around 48 or 50 years old. — Laughs. — You know you can't lie to me.

— I didn't lie when I said you could be a good firefighter. Maybe those who attend bachelor parties. — The waitress, a lady with greasy blond hair and poorly done makeup and a surly face, stopped at our table. — I want a chocolate milkshake and waffles.

— A coffee and a burger, please. — He completed and then she went to the kitchen. — She's sad, depressed. I can see it on your face, and Sam and I just didn't want to be rude when we saw that you were probably going to be sleeping on the street tonight.

— It's just a difficult time.

— It's been difficult since the beginning, then? — He arched an eyebrow. — Look, anyone born a hunter is unhappy in any profession. You are a great hunter.

— I was great. And also, who is running around at risk of death and practically not having a life? — I snorted. — I want to get married, I want to have children. Without the worry of having vampires running around or a spirit.

Dean laughed softly and said:

— That's true, but have you ever thought that maybe you're not a good actress?

— Dean… — I rolled my eyes. — Obviously already, and every day that seems more true.

— Remember when we were seventeen, you said you wanted to be a chef in a five-star restaurant. — His gaze was loving. — You can be anything you want, like Barbie says.

I laughed loudly, scaring the drunks, widowers, and people sleeping at the tables.

— Dean, I appreciate your advice.

— It's ten dollars. — Poke me. — You can stay with us as long as we stay here.

— I don't know if I can stand so much time with your father.

— To be quite honest, neither do I. And another question, don't you have a boyfriend?

— What a personal question. — I put my hand on my chin. — But no, Dean, I don't have a boyfriend and I don't want one.

— That's good, no chance of someone suddenly wanting to show up and punch me. — His characteristic smile could make any heart melt, even more than Sam's puppy dog ​​eyes.

— I do this because I don't have a boyfriend.

— I doubt it, you must be all rusty. — He provoked. — You know, because you don't give hunting another chance. I propose we resolve this case and, if you don't like it, you go back to being an actress and, if you like it, you spend a little more time with my beautiful company.

— The Impala will be crowded.

[fandomwe1rd0]

Rick and Morty meeting for the first time! From Morty's pov

Thanks @kitty-kootz for unintentionally motivating me to finish this!

I woke up with a jolt, I just heard a large crash, it sounded like it came from the garage, oh jeez…it wasn't robbers right? I nervously grabbed hold of a baseball bat dad gave me, he wanted us to play baseball soon but we never got around to it. I walked quietly, the floorboards quickly quietly with each step. I saw fire and a man with blue spikey hair in front of it, he looked tall, I couldn't pin down his exact height, but he couldn't of been less than 6 feet. He was pretty lanky and skinny with pretty long legs and arms. He looked over to Mom, he looked…old? He had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He had some drool? Alcohol? Something green on his bottom lip. He was wearing a blue shirt tucked into his brown pants, with a white lab coat draped over his shoulders. He looked like a stereotypical mad scientist, but with blue hair instead of white hair. It looked like he crashed something into our house, I couldn't tell what it was. Mom had tears in her eyes. I didn't know what to do. I just tugged mom's sleeve and said "M-mom…w-w-who is that?" she spoke her voice cracking lightly "T-that's your grandpa…h-h-he came back…" He locked his eyes on me, his gaze so sharp I thought it would cut through me. It sent shivers down my spine. I gulped and did an awkward wave before I quickly walked back to my room. That guy gave me the creeps, I mean Mom says he's my grandpa, but he's basically a stranger to me.

Our first breakfast with him was weird. Mom smiled as he introduced him "Kids, this is your grandpa, Rick! He finally went back into our lives!" She hugged him with a huge smile on her face. I couldn't help but notice that Rick slightly flinched, and I could've sworn that his body tensed up before he awkwardly hugged her back. Then she released him and happily said "Say hi to your grandpa kids!" Summer just looked down at her phone, texting "Oh hey I guess." He looked at me again with that same sharp intense gaze. I hated how his stare actually gave me goosebumps. I hated the way I flinched when his gaze was on me. I avoided eye contact, as I fidgeted and gulped, waving awkwardly, trying to hide the tremble in my voice, poorly, I tried to hide it with an over the top smile, why did I think that was a good idea? I stammered out "U-uh h-hi…" Ugh, I hate the way I stuttered when I'm nervous. Mom smiled "Dad, this is Summer, she's 17!" She said, happily putting her hands on Summer's shoulders while Summer just stayed guled to her phone. "And this is Morty! He's 14!" She continued, putting her hands on my shoulders. I flinched when Rick gave me that same glared. I gulped and awkwardly waved with another forced smile "Y-yeah…M-Morty that's me..heh…" as we all sat for breakfast, Mom happily said "Now we can all eat breakfast together like a real family!" I didn't really feel like eating…there was something about Rick that made me lose my appetite. I just played with my food to distract me from the stranger sitting at the table, sometimes pushing my food around to make it look like I ate some. Nobody else really talked either. Normally we'd all be talking about something, Dad's jobs, how Summer or I are doing in school, Mom's job, or something, anything. But everyone was just quiet.

Dad finally cleared his throat "Uhm…so Rick…uh…what do you do for a living? Will you help out with the rent?" Mom glared at Dad. "Jerry. We're more than happy to let him stay here for free. He's my father." Dad's eyes narrowed "He abandoned you." I sighed, I knew where this was going. I quickly got my backpack "I'll just wait for the bus…" Dad said "No. Rick's going to drive you." Rick spoke, his voice was gruff "School is a waste of time, Jerry. It's beneath me to take someone to school." Jerry narrowed his eyes at Rick "If you're staying here, you needs to do something." Mom glared at him "Jerry, he's more than welcome to-" I quickly shook my head "N-no! I-it's fine! I'll wait for the bus!" I quickly went out to wait for the bus. I just wanted to get out of there so I didn't have to hear Mom and Dad argue again. Honestly, Rick, I don't even want to call him grandpa, gives me the creeps. Whenever he would look at me, it would be with this weirdly intense gaze, like he's mad at me or something. I didn't like it. School was fine if I'm being honest, I wasn't really paying attention, I spent most of the day staring at Jessica, ugh I really need to stop that, I'm gonna flunk!

I was going to go home but then I heard Rick say "Hey, Morty right?" My body tensed up, I wasn't used to him saying my name, I cleared my throat "U-uh yeah…t-that's me…" He said "C'mon, I wanna show you some-burp-thing." I looked away and said "O-okay…" I nervously followed him, the garage already looked completely different. It was filled with gadgets, I had no idea what they did. Guess he made himself at home quickly. He led me to his bedroom, he had blueprints on the wall, and his bed had a green blanket. He said, "I'm going to show you something I don't show a lot of people." He took something out of his labcoat, it was white with a vial of green liquid at the top, it seemed to have a tiny black screen with a keypad. I tried to hide the interest in my voice when I said "What is that?" He said, "It's a por-burp-tal gun." I blinked "Portal…gun? L-like from that game portal?" Rick shrugged "Kinda, but less la-burp-me, you only need one por-burp-tal and it will teleport you wherever you wanna go, like think of some random place." I blinked "Uh…I dunno…Shoneys?" Rick made a portal, it was just a green swirl. Rick gestured toward it and I said "So I just…walk through it?" Rick shrugged "Pretty much." I gulped as I first stuck my hand through it, I pulled it out and then put it back in.. "What the…?" I stuck my whole head in and there it was, Shoneys. I fell backward out of the portal "I…how the?!" I kept moving in and out "How is that possible?!" Rick smirked as he tossed the portal gun up and caught it. "Wh-burp-at can I say? I'm pretty pro-burp-ud of this bad boy. We can go any-burp-where with this baby." He opened another portal "Now c'mon, I need to go get something." I sighed and walked through the portal.

[sinnabarmoth]

Safe Together

*I was thinking about the end of Season 4 and wanted a short fix it fic that just exuded warmth and safety and some levity. This is what happened. With some light Steddie in the mix.*

---

It had been a long day and what felt like an even longer night. They had defeated Vecna and by some miracle everyone had made it out with only some minor to moderate injuries. Nothing life threatening so any trips to the hospital were put on hold.

The entire team, Robin, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, Max and Erica sat in the van bandaging each other up in silence. There was no big celebration. Perhaps they would come to that later. Everything right now was just quiet as they breathed in the fact that they had made it out alive.

The most anyone spoke was Max telling everyone about El piggybacking into her possession and fighting off Vecna. Will, Johnathan, Mike, El, and their friend Argyle were on their way to Indiana. And no one had heard from Mrs.Byers.

The following days would be hard to get through. Jason was still out there causing panic in the streets and Eddie was still suspected of murder. But they were alive. They were alive and they had won yet again.

“Where do we go?” Dustin asked, “We can’t exactly let Eddie wander off on his own while we go home.”

“I don’t really wanna be away from anyone right now.” Max said. She was still shaking. “Can we...I don’t know. Stay at someone’s house? All of us?”

“We can go to my house.” Steve said. “My parents are still in France on vacation so the house is empty. Got plenty of space and no one will come looking for Eddie there.”

“Sounds good to me. Slumber party at Harrington’s.” Eddie winced as he sat forward. The bat bites probably hurt like a bitch.

They drove out to Steve’s house. He made a quick sweep of the house to double check that no one was there before ushering everyone inside. The moment they were in the house things became a little more lighthearted.

Everyone washed up and since no one wanted to be alone they dragged the mattresses from the bedrooms and the cushions off the couch to create a giant communal sleeping area in the living room.

Nancy, Dustin, and Erica were in the kitchen making whatever food they could find while Steve, Lucas, and Max set up the mattresses with pillows and blankets. Robin was rifling through the medicine cabinets for painkillers and Eddie was looking for movies or music or anything to keep them entertained and take their minds off of what they went through.

“Oh my god, Steve, why do you have zero snacks in this house?” Dustin groaned from the kitchen. “The most I can find are some stale crackers and those hard candies that every old person seems to own. What even are these?”

“Oh right, my dad hides the junk food so mom doesn’t yell at him about his cholesterol. Look in the far right back corner of the cabinet next to the sink.” Steve called back as he dropped another blanket onto the nest of cushions they had created. “If you go in the basement there’s another freezer where you can find ice cream and some frozen soft pretzels.”

“Oh thank god!” Dustin came back up with popcorn, cookies, chips, and even a few cups of pudding. He immediately went down to fetch the ice cream and pretzels. Nancy and Erica were at the stove making some instant mashed potatoes and frozen meatballs. It wasn’t much but it should fill everyone up.

“So,” Eddie came back with a few tapes in his hands. “We have our choice between Dumbo, Old Yeller, and Gone with the Wind. Harrington, why is it that the movies you own suck?”

“Cause, again, you guys are just going through the family stuff. I think I still have The Muppets Take Manhattan in my room. I haven’t returned it yet.”

“Muppets?” Robin looked at him. “You said your mom made you rent it.”

“Fine. You caught me! I like the Muppets. Sue me! I think we all could use something lighthearted after tonight!”

“Muppets it is.” Eddie walked off again. “I get to go snoop around Steve’s room!”

“What?” Steve blanched, “Oh hell no! Eddie! Eddie do not go in my room!”

For a man with abdominal wounds Eddie raced up the stairs with great speed. “Munson! I mean it!” Steve raced after him.

“What does he have up there that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Max asked.

“His diary. Dirty underwear. Playgirls.” Robin shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

“Don’t you mean Playboys?” Lucas looked confused.

Robin went pale. “Ugh, right. Yes. I meant Playboys.” This was not going to be the way that everyone found out that Steve was into guys. That needed to be done in his own time.

“How do you know about Playboys, Lucas?” Max cocked her head at her...boyfriend? It was unclear if they were back together or not. Considering how much they kept near each other since leaving the Creele house the odds were looking good for a reconciliation.

“Ugh...hey, Nancy, you need help in the kitchen? I’m gonna come help you.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Max caught him by the collar.

There was a loud thump from upstairs and more pounding footsteps. Eddie came racing back down the steps with Steve on his heels. “He has an ewok plush!” Eddie held up the furry little toy. “Steve “The Hair” Harrington has an ewok plush!”

“Damn it Munson!” Steve tackled him and they landed in the living room. Everyone paused to watch the two young adult men with matching, fresh bat bite wounds, roll on the mattresses, fighting for a Star Wars toy.

Steve wrenched the toy out of Eddie’s hands and held it close to his chest. “Do not touch Gerald!” he shouted.

There was a long moment of heavy silence. The boys were breathing heavy and just staring at each other. Then, Eddie started laughing. Steve slumped and started laughing too. The laughter stretched through the house and hit everyone else. Soon everyone was doubled over laughing till they were red in the face.

Perhaps they had finally cracked. Maybe they were going mad. But damn if it just didn’t matter.

Everyone started gravitating towards each other, leaning on one another as they howled with laughter. Then slowly, the laughter grew louder and turned into wails. Everyone was now holding tight out of grief. Tears falling and heaving sobs.

All of the trauma, all of the horror they had seen and experienced. Not just today but, for some, three years now. It all came pouring out in this one moment where they knew they were safe.

Max especially couldn’t hold in the grief and guilt she had been feeling ever since Billy died. Lucas held her close, squeezing her tight.

The sobs quieted back into sniffling silence. Everyone wiped at their eyes and unclenched their hands from whoever they were holding. There was a deep breath and they all piled in together. They distributed the food and snacks as Steve put the vhs in the player.

The atmosphere eased and they let the horror and grief wander farther away as they watched the Muppets. By the time the movie ended most everyone had fallen asleep. Save Steve who was going around cleaning up wrappers and dirty plates and cups from the sleeping hub.

He set the dirty dishes in the sink and tossed the wrappers and boxes and bottles in the trash. He heard soft footsteps behind him and looked up to see Eddie tiptoeing around the others. He gingerly made his way over to the kitchen where Steve was.

“Hey man,” he whispered. “Need any help?”

“No. I got it.” Steve answered. “Why are you still up?”

“It’s been hard to sleep since...Chrissy.”

“I get it. I barely slept after the first time I saw the demogorgon. It takes time but you’ll find deep sleeps again.”

Eddie looked back at the others fast asleep in the living room. “It’s so messed up. All of this is fucked.”

“Yeah. But we gotta keep living or else what have we been fighting for this entire time?” Steve looked Eddie up and down still in his stained jeans and bloodied t-shirt. “You want some more comfortable clothes to sleep in? Everyone else already raided my wardrobe for clean clothes. There’s probably a pair of sweatpants still leftover somewhere.”

Eddie looked down at his soiled outfit and nodded. “Good call.”

Steve went back to his room and rifled through his drawers. He found a pair of pajama pants and a clean soft t-shirt that he tossed Eddie’s way. Eddie winced a little as he changed. It would take some time before those bites healed. Probably make for some sick scars though.

Neither of them were in a hurry to go back down to the others. They would not be sleeping for a while. So they remained in Steve’s room, sitting on the bed frame without a mattress and just talked. At first they were talking about all the messed up shit that had been happening since ‘83 and then the conversation shifted. They talked about school memories, funny stories, bad dates, and family drama.

Eddie hadn’t expected to relate to Steve so much and Steve could say the same. Turns out they had more in common then having kind of adopted Dustin as their little brother. There was even more they had in common that they didn’t talk about. Things that would take more time to come to terms with. More trust needing to be built to admit. And a great deal more of bravery needed to tell each other.

Yawns became heavier and Steve and Eddie returned to the living room. There was only a small space barely big enough for the both of them left amongst the pile of bodies. They nestled in, pulling one of the remaining blankets over them.

“Night Munson.” Steve mumbled as his eyes fell closed.

“Sweet dreams Harrington” Eddie yawned once more and followed him into a well deserved sleep.

Tomorrow would be a mess but tonight, tonight they were safe.

[beechaotic]

Alright, we had the meeting with the Bat. It was fucking nerve wracking.

Stabby was there, and he looked very angry that I was there. The feeling was mutual.

Red Hood explained the situation, and Bat just…was, yknow, being the Bat. Not like I’m not used to it.

Bat asked Stabby some questions, yada yada. Stabby did not mention that I could “teleport”. Which was nice of him.

Then the Bat turned to ME, and asked “Why do YOU think Robin was watching you?” And that caused me to just fucking PANIC. Like, I was Not At All PreparedTM for that question.

So, I answered as best as I could. “Well, he’s used to people listening to him when he’s out as a vigilante. The fact that I didn’t confused him, so he then considered me “dangerous”. I probably AM, but I’m not doing anything illegal outside of Crime Alley.”

I thought that that would be it. NOPE. I was fucking WRONG and STUPID to think that the Bat would let me off easy. He just GALRED at me for like, five seconds, and then said “So squatting in a warehouse is not on that list as well?”

Well I’m SORRY I can’t rent an Apartment when I am a MINOR. Silly me, thinking that I could be homeless in PEACE.

I did not say that out loud, but I did notice that Hood was staring at me. You see, I had not told him about my housing situation. I kind of assumed he would guess I was homeless, since I told him I was avoiding Foster Care with some friends. Apparently he didn’t? Idk, I’m just making this up as I go.

“Sir, with NO amount of respect, I’m going to ask you to mind your fucking business. I have a place with a roof and four walls that isn’t on the verge of collapse to live in, so I don’t see why it’s any of your business. Besides, Crime Alley is outside of your jurisdiction. So, politely, fuck off.” Not the best choice of words, but whatever. I was mad. Stabby looked angrier than before, Red Hood was VERY stiff, and the Bat was…the Bat and just stayed neutral. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to leave. It seems that this meeting is over.” And I Rapid Jumped out of there.

Suffice it to say that I’m NOT looking forward to work later. Fuck my life.

[madebymandyla]

Donut County Trashopedia Starters

"Coffee rules. It burns your tongue and makes you go to the bathroom."

"Do not try to wash cotton candy in the pool. This tip will save your life."

"It's a rock. Don't try to eat it."

"How many birds are you willing to fight for a bag of chips?"

"It's one thing to own a chicken, but two chickens...that's two things."

"If your chicken doesn't have a swing...wow "

"DO NOT get spotted."

"Press the buttons on top to select your flavor."

"You can tell a fish secrets, they won't remember anything."

"Tennis balls only grow in hard to reach places."

"Tell me how to get ate by a bird. Tell me."

"Someday everything will be made of corn."

"Rocks were given to us by aliens."

"This is probably the worst place to pour milk into."

"Try washing yourself with soup. You might feel good."

"If you make a crow mad, it will steal your credit card number."

"Carrots grow underground and are therefore extremely untrustworthy."

"Imagine loving carrots so much you wanted to live inside one."

"Bunnies love to chew on stuff because of their evil nature."

"Bunnies want to destroy everything and they don't know why."

"There's no taste like fresh dirt."

"Kinda weird how large and perfectly shaped these boulders are..."

"It's like the aliens are mocking us."

"Everyone is weak to fire."

"Cliffs are a type of trap created by aliens."

"This corn has white stuff on it and spicy stuff. It's really good."

"You can't make me read. I'm not gonna do it."

"99% of seagulls are criminals."

"You can use fireworks to remove hair."

"Seagulls love french fries because it's the main crop of their homeland."

"The only good bird is a fake bird."

"The human ear can hear over 100 songs."

"Imagine if your feet were sticky all day."

"If I had sticky feet I'd walk on the ceiling and scream."

"I'm going to get sticky feet. I'm going to do it. And you can't stop me."

"I won't bow down to a chicken. Ever."

"Eggs saved my life. True story."

"Walking under a ladder isn't just bad luck, it's embarrassing to the ladder."

"This thing goes from zero to sixty in sixty seconds."

"Who will invent the next strawberry?"

"Bees are very hyper and they like to kiss their mom's butt."

"If you sleep in your shed, no one will steal your tools."

"Bees are always making dessert."

"Bees rent apartments from their mom."

"You can predict the weather based on the time between a frogs croak. Sometimes it's wrong."

"Pinecones make no sense. It's not a good fruit."

"It's out of gas."

"Soup has many health benefits if you sit in the pot long enough."

"So many houses aren't made of candy."

"Candles get better the more you have. At least 1000 is a good starting point."

"Use salt to make food taste like the ocean."

"Add pepper if your food tastes too good."

"You can let a bird cook...but don't let it feed you."

"Honk if you wish you were a goose in your past life."

"Some apartments don't allow pets but you can keep bats if you pretend to be upset about it."

"Dogs act like they own the sidewalk...they don't."

"If you get poked by a cactus you become a cactus."

"I would switch bodies with a cactus no questions asked."

"Do laptops dream of their keys falling out?"

"People aren't meant to sit at a desk all day. They're meant to sit on a horse."

"Keep your tablet charged so you don't get bored and go outside."

"Bones are like gears, but for animals. It makes them work."

"The drawers are stuffed with MREs and fake IDs."

"If you tell a scary story without a flashlight, it comes true."

"Masks are the safest way to communicate emotions."

"Pretend to be someone cool."

"Everybody wears a mask...except for me."

"Ever think about all the other types of flumes besides log? I don't."

"It's funny how we need water to live...but also to slide."

"Water balloons are like normal balloons filled with spite."

"Signs are a great way to tell people what to do without actually talking to them."

"Balloons are rude to earth's gravity."

"The secret to good coffee? Scare the beans. You gotta tell at those beans."

"I'm looking for investors to fund my drive-thru haunted house."

"Honestly I think cars are scared of everything, we just can't hear them scream through the mufflers."

"Rich people use their cars only once before throwing them away."

"Scientist may look like they're taking notes, but they're just drawing cool skulls."

"Frogs do a few questionable things but they're otherwise perfect."

"The hacker's code requires that when you hack into a mainframe you gotta say 'I'm in.'"

[blackwood4stucky]

i scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream | aspen blackwood

steve rogers x james "bucky" barnes | mcu

masterpost | mini playlist

🆃 | word count: 1,110 | complete

tags: quiet horror, omegaverse, bucky-centric

The members of the Rogers family were unpacking their boxes, two rented U-Hauls sitting in front of their new house, when Bucky first heard it, the ice cream song playing from the truck down the street. It was a familiar little jingle, one he had heard for many years where he used to live. Such a tune usually brought joy, everyone loves ice cream.

It was late October by the time the Rogers relocated to a new community in East End, New Hampshire. Their neighbors were getting into the spirit of Halloween what with all the decorations strewn about the block. Fake webs and spiders covered many front lawns while homemade ghosts and ghouls blew in the cool autumn winds. It seemed that everyone in the community was participating from the sheer amount of laughter that could be heard all around them. Bucky decided then that they all would have to participate as well, how could they not? It was his favorite time of the year, family tradition dictated that they celebrate and he would not forsake that ritual. If only they could get everything done in a timely fashion. Looking at his little family though, he could see that his alpha and their daughter were worn out. Even their cat, Alpine, was lying about in the grass. Perhaps it was a good time to pause and take a break now that the ice cream truck was there. He had just begun digging his hands around in his pocket for change when little Sarah tugged on his pant leg.

“Mommy, why is everyone leaving?” His daughter’s voice sounded so small even though he knew Sarah’s curiosity was so big, the little girl could get into so much mischief if left to her own devices.

Glancing up, Bucky saw that Sarah was right though. Their new neighbors had all but dropped their various decorations to scramble for the doors. Even the pets knew the drill. With his heightened hearing, he could hear the telltale sound of locking mechanisms and whispers coming from inside of the houses on the block. Perturbed, but not one to stick around for danger, Bucky followed suit and beckoned for his husband, Steve, and little Sarah to do the same. Taking whatever they held in their hands, the Rogers family hastily went inside and closed their doors, making sure the deadbolt was securely in place. The song from the ice cream truck grew louder and louder, the pitch taking on a strange note at the end, one that caused a chill to run down Bucky’s spine. It wasn’t until a pained yelp rang out a moment later that they all realized Alpine was still outside.

Ever since that day, life went on as normal for rest of the members of the East End community. Bucky, on the other hand, developed trust issues. Not a single one of their new neighbors batted an eye when he and Steve asked what was up with the ice cream truck, when they questioned their new neighbors on the whereabouts of their beloved pet. All anyone ever had to say on the matter was when the ice cream song plays, you best get inside, don’t come out until it’s over, even then don’t come out until the day is over. If you’re caught outside when the song plays, you best pray for it to be over soon. For if you see the heads, if you see the eyes, it’s over. It’s over, it’s over for you.

Bucky had begun to question their decision to move to East End then. All the research he put into finding this community didn’t seem to be yielding the results it should have. All the reviews he read boasted of its exclusivity and safety for all sorts of people. All the interviews he and Steve had gone through were a testament to how serious East End appeared to take its application process. It all was supposed to result in a sanctuary. He knew his little family was different. Heightened senses, enhanced agility, and a less than stellar diet certainly didn’t make it easy for them to settle down. This was supposed to be their big break. He didn’t know how wrong he was.

A few weeks later, Bucky, Steve, and Sarah were enjoying the cool play day in breeze on their front lawn, when they heard it, the ice cream song playing from the truck down the street. Bucky and Steve were wary but gathered what was immediately around them to head inside.

“Excuse me.” A little voice called out from behind Bucky. “I missed you last time. May I have some ice cream, please?”

Turning around, Bucky saw their daughter standing in front of the ice cream truck with her little hand outstretched. His eyes widened when he got a good look at the truck. It was all white with a strange black symbol painted on the side facing their home, a sea creature with multiple bulbous heads and tentacles. To his utter horror, a familiar pale red light had begun to shine through the window on the driver’s side. It was one that bought horrific memories from his past, flashes of torture and pain.

“Sarah, get away from that truck!” Bucky’s body moved like a flash before he could even issue it a command, fear gripping his heart as he snatched the child up from the edge of the sidewalk. It was only when something cold and tight gripped at his leg as it latched onto his skin, that he realized his grave mistake. “Take her and get inside, lock the doors!”

“No! Not without you!” Steve had materialized at his side to take Sarah into his arms but he refused to leave. “I won’t leave you, not again.”

“You have to!” He groaned in pain and looked down at his leg, it was wrapped in some sort of chain with barbs that dug into his flesh holding him in place. There was no way he would let them get ahold of his entire family, there was no way in hell he would give Hydra a real win. Bucky’s fear was to be ripped from his daughter, from Steve, his husband and mate. It was his greatest fear to be returned back into the clutches of those that created monsters like him and Steve. All the while, that ice cream truck played its haunting song. It tormented him as he prayed for a swift end that he knew would never come. The first time the Rogers family heard the ice cream song, they lost their pet. The second time they heard it, the Rogers family lost Bucky.

[shes-an-oddbird]

911 Lone Star Tag Game: Beginnings

(1) Which 911 Lone Star season premiere is your favorite?

Probably the season three premiere but I really liked the season two one as well. Tommy being introduced and having to get used to being back in the field. That little bit of hesitation and the discomfort with leaving the twins when she feels like they need her.

I’ve already said this but the season three premiere was just really good. A good balance of the stories, updating us on what happened over the time skip, where everyone is and reconnecting everyone throughout the episode.

(2) Which character do you think had the best introduction or first scene in the show?

I’m going to say Judd had the best introduction over the course of the 1st episode. We learn so much about him so quickly and I think the writers did a great job with it. He loses his entire house in one shot. We learn about his relationship with Grace. They give him this major conflict with Owen right off the bat and you think its going to be drawn out through the entire show but really by the end of the episode they realize they’re just not communicating well because Judd is suffering from PTSD and Owen’s dealing with his own issues but they both want to honor the old 126 and build something new.

(3) What is your favorite moment of 1x01?

My very favorite part is the interviews. They’re so much fun. It is such a quick and easy way to dump a lot of information about the characters in a short span of time and it worked well because they’re interesting characters and it sets up so much potential and if I’m being honest, a little disappointment.

First of all, Paul actually tackled a guy with a gun. I know the takeaway is supposed to be that he was able to pick the guy out in the crowd but he just, no fear, punched a guy with a gun (definitely explains why he and Marjan bonded so quickly).

Marjan doesn’t showcase enough insubordination considering it was half her interview. She says she’s allergic to poor leadership, so the takeaway is obviously that she has some respect for Owen. We do see a lot of reckless Marjan outside of work but as often as Owen acts up, I feel like we should have seen more of this side of her on calls. Also, Marjan just jumping off the pier/bridge to save someone is fantastic. Way to become the coolest character in like less than 10 seconds.

Finally, one thing I will never let go of is the fact that Mateo broke several academy records in field work. Like they brushed that off way too quickly. Even Mateo himself isn’t impressed by this fact because he can’t past the written tests. Assuming those records were in timed skills assessments like the training we see Owen and Paul go through in later episodes, why are we not actually seeing it used in the field? Maybe they could explain it away when he was a probie but he is a full-fledged firefighter now so no excuses.

Anyways the interviews were great. And TK during each interview reading over the resumes and smiling in the background. You just know he’s thinking, “I’m going to befriend you, I’m going to befriend you so much!”

(4) When did you first start watching Lone Star and how did you find out about it?

I think I started watching it somewhat inconsistently when it would come on after OG 911. It was definitely during season 2. I remember getting pulled into a few episodes and I think I finally I sat down and binge watched it in between season two and three. That’s when I got hooked. I really loved OG 911 and didn’t expect to get so much more attached to the lone star characters but I did and they’ve been living rent free in my head ever since.

(5) What is one wish you have for the season 5 premiere?

I know this is very specific but I have a very clear moment in my mind where Paul and Marjan ask TK, Nancy and Mateo who they think would make a better lieutenant and Nancy just refuses to answer because she’s a paramedic and is not qualified to say. TK attempts to get out of answering the same way and while they argue with him that he was a firefighter and could answer, Mateo just bolts and spends the rest of the episode hiding from them because he refuses to choose between them.

(Evenly distributed screentime would also be high on my wish list. I hate when an entire episode goes by and a character or worse, multiple characters only have one or two lines. I know it’s a big cast but please please please I know it can be done.)

thank you for tagging me @lonestar-s5countdown

[omnybus]

Dream Sketches: Rat Family Christmas

Last night I had a rough time sleeping, feeling rather sick and ended up sleeping in short bursts of a couple hours each. Each one had a dream of some kind, but the last bit of sleep I got was the only one I could actually remember, and it was quite vivid and surprisingly wholesome.

t;My dream started off with me walking down the road to a house that used to be my grandmother's, on my mom's side. About twenty years ago IRL, my family and I lived in this house with my grandmother when we first moved here, before buying and settling into our own house a couple years later. After my grandmother died my mom inherited and sold the house to another family, though sadly they ended up leaving the house in terrible disrepair, letting the lawn get overgrown and strewn with junk, as well as doing half-assed, unfinished "renovations" that left the house with exposed plywood and heaps of dissused wood on the lawn. It wasn't our responsibility at the end of the day though it still makes me and my mother sad to look at the state the house is now in. It was a very old but otherwise nice little house.

History lesson aside, in my dream I was on my phone talking to this demolitions company who rented out giant monsters for people to take control of to use for demolishing buildings. I arrived at the house and found this massive, forty-foot Godzilla-like creature standing intert and lifeless in front of the house's driveway. It looked like a mashup of several different dinosaurs and had seven digits on its hands and feet.

I told them that the monster they had sent was there and was ready for me to take control of to destroy the house, but then I looked over and saw that the house was completely different from what I remembered. Namely it was much nicer-looking and seemed completely different, looking like a mashup of several parts of a fancy old manor. It was asymmetrical but well put together, with a lovely garden and fresh paint and even a bell tower.

I told the demolition company I'd call them back and hung up, walking towards this new house to speak to the owners. I was originally going to just smash the house down as no-one was supposed to be inside, but I wanted to see what the deal was with this new look. As I eventually found the front door, I was greeted by a cheerful anthropomorphic rat lady dressed like a vampire. Her outfit seemed to be a mashup of a Halloween and Christmas dress, having a spiderweb motif but decorated with glittery baubles in red, black, and green. She invited me inside, and I obliged.

The interior of the house was much like the outside, fancy looking in shape and decor but put together in a haphazard yet solid way, with staircases and hallways going in every direction and countless rooms of every shape and size. All of it was decorated in orniments typical for both Halloween and Christmas, with strings of multicolored lights strug everywhere and little plastic bats, skulls, and pumpkins mixed with candy canes, holly, and jingle bells. As the rat lady led me deeper into the house she told me she was so glad to have a guest over and wanted me to meet the whole family. I ended up running into more anthro rat people of different ages, all dressed as vampires in Halloween/Christmas themed garb. Everyone I ran into was very friendly, greeting me as if I were one of their own- one big rat fellow, the "uncle", gave me a big hug and said "Glad to meet ya, champ!" while an elderly "grandpa" rat slapped me on the back and invited me to play cards later. Eventually I ended up in a huge room where dozens of rats were all gathered around, the whole family coming together to greet me. There were tables laden with snacks and drinks, a roaring fire, and a big Christmas tree decorated with shiny baubles, lights, and an iron chain garland witg what looked like a medieval morningstar on top. Several rat children of varying ages ran up and looked at me with excitement, as if expecting me to give them presents. The "triplets" were the most memorable here, popping out of three cardboard coffin-shaped gift boxes.

Once the rat lady got everyone to settle down, I managed to introduce myself, telling them my name and explaining that I used to live in this house. I told them that originally it was ordered for demolition because it was assumed no one lived here, but since it was clearly occupied, I told them I was going to call the whole thing off and join them for their Halloween/Christmas celebration. Everyone rejoiced at the news, and I headed out to take care of the demolitions company, getting several hugs, handshakes and high-fives along the way. I was really excited but at the same time slightly worried the monster outside would go rogue and attack anyway, but I figured I could enlist the help of this vampire rat family to stopping it. Either way I ended up waking up.

Overall, one of the most wholesome and colorful dreams I've had in a while! A lot of my dreams lately have been rather unpleassnt, with gorey and disturbing imagery or just a really melancholic or dreary tone, especially the ones I have when I fall asleep immediately after waking up. This is a nice little change of pace. I especially liked the giant house it took place in- honestly, ever since I was a little kid I wanted to live in a huge house or manor with lots of different hallways and hidden passages and stuff. The rats especially were fascinating, looking as if they were my own drawings but animated.

[sinisterexaggerator]

Little life update teehee

The school district in Austin, TX screwed me over. If I can’t find another job before August 1, fuck it — I’m going to try my luck in Seattle/PNW, job or not. I’m sure I’ll find something to pay the bills until I make it into the library there.

Long story short, dumb ass who hired me didn’t know what credentials I still needed when I investigated and thought all I needed was to take a test and hand them my transcripts. TX Education Agency says in order to be allowed to take the library media exam I need ANOTHER two years of course work in a school librarian prep program like I did for Region 13 for SPED and that right there cost 12,000 dollars when I’m barely finished with my MLIS. Somehow, my teaching experience, master’s, endorsements, and 2 years at the library in Florida isn’t good enough. Worst thing though, I relocated to Austin banking on this. I feel like I should be compensated for this fuckery. Who hires someone without knowing for sure if they are 💯 qualified and leaves it up to the employee in a case like that? I’m not a fucking school district. You tell ME what I have to do — and before I sign a prehire agreement, how about that!? I thought I had everything I needed, but they should have been there to tell me no, you are not qualified - please do this first instead of saying yeah, come to Austin, we’ll get you in somehow. No, obviously you can’t. UGH.

Got an air bnb until the end of the month. Not even gonna bother looking for an apartment at this point. I applied to places like UT, ACC, and APL but 🤷🏻‍♀️. Also if the last person I lived with would have let me take my damn time looking for a job like I asked, finish school first, and not stress out about this, well, I’d still have a job in Orlando atm but I was rushed out because “you were going to move eventually, anyway.” Yeah, maybe in six months or so. Maybe in a year. But noooo, I had to leave to have his “friend” move in by August, when guess what — they didn’t even wind up moving in because they lost their job.

I just hope I don’t fucking run lot of money before I get something else lined up. I refuse to teach again. I refuse to pay 12,000 for 9 more classes. Why the fuck do they make everything so HARD FOR TEACHERS AND NOW LIBRARIANS!! There is LITERALLY A SHORTAGE. Gee, I wonder why?!!? 😡🤬😡🤬🤬

Guess i'll keep applying to every job I see. Oh, and my period decided to come early - a week early - so that's fun, and before that I was SICK and had a FEVER while packing for the move! Not to mention before THAT I didn't even get to see the Hondo animatronic like I wanted to because Disney can't get their shit together and he was already broken for a week straight by the time we arrived.

Of course, can't get help from anyone either. My parents are dead, I have little family, and even though I have savings no one wants to rent an apartment ( even if you can pay for six months up front ) because you don't have proof of income?!?! How do people even move?! Ugh. And my bf's parents are dicks and won't even help us cosign. They are in the middle of selling/building a new house for the 10th time because his mother is bat shit crazy, so we don't even have a room to crash in worst case. We could sleep on a futon in his brother's living room, but fuck that.

I really just want to go to Portland, or Seattle, or Vancouver, Spain, California, fuck. Idk.

I wish I wasn't bleeding like a God damn wounded animal and the cramps don't help. I should be doing things - productive things - but all I want to do is watch reels on Instagram.

Oh— and one more thing. My boyfriend works from home normally and he can’t do his job because the air bnb failed to list that the internet is SPOTTY AF. It cuts out all the time and I am definitely leaving 3 stars.