#welcome to hell ya fucker

[huyh172]

Like to Charge, Reblog to Cast

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

Mickey’s on house arrest for an eensy teensy crime (a total misunderstanding obviously - Mickey would never.)

At first he thinks he’s gonna go level ten batshit cooped up in their apartment. It’s not that he doesn’t like the home they’ve made for themselves, it’s just he’s a man who needs enrichment in his enclosure and everyone knows it.

Ian finds himself “breaking” things on the downlow so he can subtly float a “hey could you look at the ___ today? I think it’s busted” over their morning coffee. He's not coddling him, he just likes knowing Mickey will have something to do while he’s at work besides pace the halls and make trouble for himself out of sheer boredom.

The first week is rough. But by the next week, things have evened out considerably for Mickey. He’s clearly found a passion in something, because Ian will come home and Mickey’ll be outside on the balcony, more or less where he left him that morning. And he’s pretty sure it’s not the tomatoes he’s got potted out there.

Ian doesn’t wanna pry, especially since Mickey’s found something that works for him. But he’s a curious being. So when he comes home the next day, he decides to follow after the sound of his beautiful house-arrest husband on the balcony.

“Ha… Dumbass…”

“Who is?”

Mickey quickly turns to him as Ian steps out, joining him at the rail for a welcome home kiss.

Or…rather, Ian is kissing and Mickey is grumbling against it. “No one…”

“Mm?”

“Home early.”

“Yeah,” Ian smiles, glancing curiously at the green-space that the balcony overlooks, “got done pretty quick today.” There’s no one there. Just a couple squirrels darting around by the bushes.

Mickey nods, taking a long drag from his cigarette. 

He’s clamming up. 

Ian definitely struck something.

Silence floats between them, Ian taking the cig for himself. And he almost lets it go until it happens - movement, Mickey’s eyes darting to it down below.

Ian follows it. Hears himself huff a laugh as he watches a squirrel tear at lightning speed to the bush across the way. “Fast little fucker.”

“Gonzales…”

“Huh?” Ian turns to him. 

But Mickey refuses to meet his gaze. “Speedy Gonzales,” he says. Very cryptically.

And Ian…doesn’t know what to do with that. He chuckles, teasing, “What, you out here namin’ the squirrels, Mick?”

Another handful of seconds float by them in complete silence. Avoided eye contact.

…oh.

Wait.

Holy fuck, he’s out here naming the squirrels.

“You got somethin’ to say, wise guy-”

“No!” Wow - no - Ian doesn’t-… It’s just how the hell is he supposed to process something this endearing in such a short time span? “No, baby - nothin’ wrong with it.” Oh no, his house-arrest husband is cute?? “I mean, Speedy Gonzales - you really nailed it, ya know?”

Beside him, Mickey’s shoulders are starting to deflate from where they’ve ratcheted up in defense mode. Not all the way, but starting at least. Ian thinks they should probably leave it at that for now, but then miraculously, he’s talking again. “Got no fuckin attention span… Been lookin’ for the same shit he buried since Monday.”

Ian takes it in with a carefully constructed expression, “Oh yeah?” no smile to misconstrue or anything. “Where’s it at?”

Because Mickey knows, doesn’t he?

“Big tree,” he nods to it, “right side.”

Holy fuck, Ian is so in love with this man.

“Almost got it before you came out.”

“You think I scared him off?”

“Nah, he’s a real dumbass. Probably woulda dug two times and then ran off somewhere else.” And then, like he didn’t just make Ian’s heart absolutely rock hard, he turns to the door. “Fuckin’ starvin’ - you bring anything home?”

They have sandwiches and potato chips and Ian practically has to eat his hands to stop himself from asking more questions about his husband’s squirrels.

On Saturday morning, Ian joins him outside to water his tomatoes and then lingers, eager for any tidbits Mickey might drop on his own. 

In the grass below, a squirrel clambers over a pile of dirt and then begins a session of quick digging, bringing a smile of recognition to Ian’s face. “Hi Speedy.”

“That’s Rat Tail,” Mickey corrects from his chair.

Oh. Right. “How can you tell?” Ian asks stupidly. Because all it takes is one look with his own eyeballs to note the thinning end of this particular squirrel’s tail. “Ah.” Rat Tail. Got it.

And so begins the introductions, the two of them sipping coffee as Mickey leisurely explains the lore to him. Ian didn’t realize squirrels lead such a rich, fulfilling life, honestly. Who could’ve known? 

Mickey, of course, his feet propped up on the railing and his ankle monitor blinking away while he points out new characters seemingly every morning.

“That’s Scratch.” and “That’s Little Bitch.” and “Damn, I thoughtchya kicked the bucket, Rabies.”

Each name takes its place on Ian’s mental list.

“That one’s Allen,” Mickey says once.

To which Ian simply has to ask, the fact that he shares a name with their neighbor surely no coincidence. “What? Why?”

“He’s short ‘n ugly.”

“Got it.”

By the start of the next week, Ian feels caught up on the ins and outs of the squirrel lore. But just like with his husband, there’s always something to learn.

“Hey Mick, is that one new?”

Mickey flicks his eyes up from his phone, identifying the squirrel on the fly. “Nah, just hasn’t shown up for you yet.” Ah. “That’s Little Fucker.”

Ian nods. Interesting. “Are Little Fucker and Little Bitch related?”

“I dunno. Think they’re bangin’ each other, though.”

“Of course.”

Ian sees himself and Mickey in Little Bitch and Little Fucker.

Week Four hits, and Mickey is starting to wonder why he ever dreaded house arrest so much. It’s really not all that bad, especially when he’s got a caring husband who gives a shit about his-

“MICKEY!” comes Ian’s voice, fucking tearing through the apartment and launching Mickey into a startled fumble and ‘the fuck’ with his wet towel. “MICK GET THE HELL OUT HERE - QUICK!”

He’s dripping wet and ten seconds away from making a b-line to the gun drawer, but when he sees his husband’s face practically pressed up against the screen door, his look of sheer excitement is contagious.

“The fuck?” Mickey snaps, keeping the towel around his waist, “The hell are you out here-”

“It’s Speedy, Mick!” Ian beams, opening the door for him and pointing dramatically toward the green-space. “He’s getting it! He’s gonna get it, finally!”

Mickey shuffles over to the rail, the history that’s being made making his blood run hot when he sees it with his own two eyes, Speedy Gonzales digging frantically at the exact spot that he’s been too much of a dumbass to check for a whole month.

He and Ian grow deathly still. Wait with bated breath. 

And then…finally…after weeks of anticipation…

“Oh my god,” Ian grins, both of them watching Speedy Gonzales stuff the acorn into his mouth and then dart for cover under the bushes.

“Well whaddaya know - stupid fucker actually did it.” About damn time.

Beside him, Ian wrangles Mickey wetly into his side, processing the moment proudly. Silence may float between them, but it’s positively electric. Fiery. And when Ian glances down with him, Mickey knows the exact look in his eyes.

“You bricked up right now?”

Ian nods, swallowing thickly.

Speedy Gonzales is left to eat in peace as the two of them push their way inside, eager to celebrate the rush Little Bitch and Little Fucker-style.

[pedge-page]

Plushies : Bonus

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plushies Series Masterlist

Lactation, Bump

Can be read as standalone

Notes: Starting to think Plushie!Joel and Belly bump/lactation!Joel are in fact, the same Joel x reader couple but at different points in their lives. Plushies takes place when they're young and dating and breeding kink happens after they've been married or at least moved in and long term committed. So here's a fic that joins the two!

Warnings: assisted masturbation, stuffed animal masturbation, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, language

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You hadn't exactly planned on getting pregnant. You wanted to switch birth control plans to another dosage to help alleviate some of the hormonal side effects of your current brand. Joel did not take the news of having to practice safe sex for at LEAST 6 MONTHS too kindly.

Anyway, that was 4 days ago when you had officially switched over your pills. You now find yourself pinned in full mating press with Joel over top you, your ankles locked around his ass as he's already dumping an extra big load of his seed deep inside you after YOU had ripped the condom off his dick in a desperate haste to have him inside you 10 minutes ago.

And when you had to bare the news to Joel, oh my FUCK was he elated. He fucked you every way till the cows came home. He kept insisting the plushies stay ON the bed each time you made love so the baby (which you had to remind him was no bigger than a seed at this point) had a soft and loveable daddy that liked soft and loveable things.

Once the initial wave of morning sickness and irritability passed, you were just as much of a horndog. He'd come home and find you sitting on your giant Costco teddy bear, humping its legs while hugging it. He could see the small but new little bump in your lower tummy clearly pressed against Teddy's large cotton stuffed one. Joel made you ride so many plushies, asking you how each one felt as you gushed on them, all the while gently planting his palm at your tiny swell.

Sometimes you wondered if he was actually asking you or if he was asking the baby which one felt right.

He'd fuck you with you you on top, pushing two plushies against your tits to "practice feedings", loving the way your sensitive nipples rubbed against the beaded noses. Or planting you on your back with a soft flat plush under your back so you were comfortable as you spread your legs wide and welcomed his fat cock into you again.

Joel would find excuses to massage you as often as possible, making you sit in his lap, back pressed to his chest as he rubbed your shoulders, your aching and swollen tits, and of course your little pulsing pussy, who was just dripping of her own accord whenever. It'd be the perfect opportunity for him to peer over your shoulder and rub a stuffed animal between your legs, loving how each week, he could see less and less of the plush and his hand, slowly becoming obscured by the growing baby on the way.

Joel's naughty appraisal was off the roof. Only difference was now babygirl, kitten, whore, slut, were replaced with baby momma, little momma, momma hen, or just straight up Mommy (THAT one surprised you the most).

And oh HELL did he eat up his Daddy appraisal, constantly reminding you "fuck yeah, Daddy fucked ya up so good, put a baby in ya" or "Papi's gonna keep you round all fuckin year, pump ya full of baby batter" with "Love breedin ya, gonna make me the happiest fucker in the world" and "Daddy's gonna give you a whole fuckin kintergarden".

At night, when he thought you were asleep, he'd brush your hair lovingly, hand caressing your naked round belly, surrounding you in plushies and whispering to the baby, asking which one they like best, gauging based on how much the little feet kicked up inside you to feel the stuffed animal through your skin. He'd kiss your tummy, and barely above a whisper, tell his baby how excited he is to meet them soon.

Least to say, as unexpected as it was, Joel was thrilled to be a dad.

-

"No peeking."

"Joel I can't even see, please move your hands, I can just close my own eyes."

"No no, I got you OH NOT RIGHT THERE ok right—ok perfect. Aaaaaand—" he removes his palm from your eyes.

Your eyelids flutter open, adjusting to the bright light. Joel had just finished building the baby room, complete with custom shaved and engraved wooden crib he spent all week making.

You instinctually caress your growing belly, smiling in awe. "Oh Joel, it's so—" your eyes scan the room, lost for words at his beautiful work.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your middle securely over yours. "Ya like it?"

You loved it. Soft and sweet, touches of little details in the woodwork, spoiled with bunnies and floppy ears, a smoothly sanded rocking chair in the corner, cloud brushed skys painted on the walls. You glaze over the crib before something catches your eye, doubling back. You seeing the contents inside more clearly, a cotton pink blanket, some onesies, and--

Your infamous Kitty plushie.

You smile drops as you rush and bend over haphazardly with your swollen belly in the way, snatching the plush out of the crib like it was diseased. You hold your arm out and stick it right in front of his face. "Joel what the FUCK is THIS doing in here??"

"What? It's your kitty! For the baby!"

"Not THIS kitty! This one's— its— filthy!"

"I washed it. Like in the actual machine. Not the tub. It's clean."

"She will never be clean of her sins, Joel Miller."

"Oh now its a she?"

"Burn. This." You growled, the animal helplessly jiggling with each word.

"Being so harsh to Kitty, she don't deserve that," he said, taking it from your hands and cradling it gently, kissing its squishy head.

"Burn it or I'm buying that pregnancy pillow and kicking you on the couch where you can share with Kitty for the rest of the year."

"I'll go get the wood for that fire."

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

REWATCHING GO S1, LIVE PLAY-BY-PLAY OF DOOMSDAY WAHOO

HELLO MAGGOTS REWATCHING SEASON 1 BECAUSE THE FIRST TIME WAS A KIDNAPPING CHAOTIC MESS. EPISODE ONE HERE GOES. I DON'T REMEMBER A LOT OF DETAILS BUT YES.

Opening scene and Earth's got vibe-checked by God and I've been gaslit about the dinosaurs

GARDEN OF EDEEEEEN wow his first appearance and Aziraphale's already so prissy and flustered might fuck around and fall in love with him idk

I finally understand who these mf's are hi Hastur and Ligur you're not zombies after all

FOR FUCK'S SAKE SECOND SCENE CROWLEY'S BEEN IN AND SHE WALKED IN, SERVED HIPS HAIR AND CUNT, AND THEN MANAGED TO TALK HER AWAY INTO A PROBLEM

LIKE GENUINELY SHE COMES AND SASHAYS WITH HER HAIR AND SAYS TIMES ARE CHANGING AND HEAD OFFICE LOVES ME AND JUST INSTANTLY HASTUR AND LIGUR USE HER WORDS AGAINST HER

idk sister mary loquacious is kinda doing it for me rn with that satanic nun's habit and losergirl energy

third crowley scene and he's misplaced THE LITERALLY GODDAMNED ANTICHRIST because he made small talk with a bloke outside without checking for details

mmmmhm yes sister mary wink again your bitchless decisions are sexy y'know what i mean

Gabriel feels like his brain was eviscerated and replaced with one of those youtuber's paid course promos at the end of their how to change your life in 45 days: three simple mindset shifts video

so THIS IS WHY EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING PAVLOVIAN IN THIS FANDOM IT'S BECAUSE OF DUCKS of course it's because of ducks

mmmhm yes sure crepes French revolu--Crowley stop eye-fucking Aziraphale you're making everyone at the Ritz horny

Aziraphale don't moan into your food man you can't take these two anywhere

Crowley thanking the driver for slowing down is everything to me

And they're drunk hu-fucking-zzah good thing we'll have 11 year olds saving the world coz these fuckers sure ain't doing shit

OH MY GOD HE WAS TRYING TO SAY BOUILLABAISSE I JUST REALISED. I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST MAKING KISSY FACES AT AZIRAPHALE I'M NOT OK-

What Aziraphale was doing back was definitely kissy faces though that mfer wasn't even trying to say bouillabaisse when Crowley said what sounded suspiciously like baby

kissy kissy from lil miss prissy [i would have made such a great high school bully shame i had no inclinations that way]

SORRY WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT SOBERING UP EXCUSE ME THE FANFICS MADE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS A CLICK AND THEY'RE SUDDENLY NORMAL WHY IS THE ALCOHOL REFILLING

oop nun down nun down

i want ya see a wile ya thwart amirite on a t-shirt

"actually i encourage humans to-" just say you're a lazy bitch azi we love you

love crowley fake-manipulating azi into helping like azi wants to be manipulated y'know so it's not technically his fault he was wiled over or whatever and they're both just such ENABLERS

not azi going SOFT at being godfathers with crowley

NOT BROTHER FRANCIS PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AZI WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS PLEASE

WARLOCKKKKK I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

HNNNG MICHAEL SHEEN HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

why is nanny ashtoreth so seductive with that of course dear is it just crowley's inherent disastergirl sex appeal

HALF PONYTAIL CROWLEY I AM A FUCKING SLUT FOR HALF PONYTAIL

GASLIGHTING HEAVEN AND HELL THAT'S MY BABYGIRLS

erIC THE DISPOSABLE DEMON I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COME IN S1 well not come i hope unless being eaten by a hellho--nope

ANGEL CROWLEY SAID ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL

CROWLEY TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT KILLING BEFORE GETTING ANNOYED

waiter crOWLEY OUTFIT I CANNOT BE NORMAL AFTER THE WEDDING DRESS DESIGNING ABOUT THIS COSTUME

FOOLS WRONG BOY YOU FOOLS IM DEAD

DOG IS UNIRONICALLY SO CUTE EVEN BEFORE IT GOES SMOL

gonna give my roxie a kissy brb she's my angel and all this dog talk makes me miss her (she's a few feet away under the bed)

i asked her for a kissy and she crawled out and gave me a kiss i love her

DOGGGGG ADAMMM

...roxie's crying to be taken downstairs it's nearly 2 am this is on me for waking her up i crowley'd myself fml

EYYYYY WELCOME TO THE END TIMES don't mind me I'll have to take roxie down yes I know maggots I'm crowley-coded I KNOW THAT I'M A BLOODY DISASTER BYEEEEEEEE

[m-myeon]

New anon here! ♠️ Would love to read a Beomgyu Drabble with 4 or 6 if you haven’t already!! Love ya tysm byeee ♥️

𝑀𝑂𝑅𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐷𝑌

4. “Tell me how you like it” + 6. “Don’t cover your face, I want to see you”

contains !: (kinda softdom!)gyu x subfem!reader, mentions of gyu being a switch, fingering, lots of petnames and praise 🤪, eding, grinding , mentions of hook-ups, best friend to .. fuckers?, you could say gyu is kinda jealous or really devoted to his task lmao, tears and mentions of toys

authors note : thanks for waiting and welcome to the annons family !! also tysm for requesting this, it was so hot to write 🫡

what the hell was going on

At what fucking moment were you in your best friend's lap, letting yourself be done by his beautiful long fingers buried deep in your pussy. Oh, sure. At the time when Beomgyu's big heart had not been able to allow his best friend to leave the house of one of her hook-ups unsatisfied after discovering his disastrous finger play.

Incomparable to Beomgyu's, by the way. You had no idea that your best friend had so much talent stored on his fingers, but you were more than happy to be discovering it.

A whimper escaped your lips when your friend's middle finger brushed your G-spot, Beomgyu smirked when he noticed you move on top of him and continued to abuse your gummy walls until your sighs turned into muffled moans on his neck. .

"Come on, sweetheart" he whispered in your ear, leaving a kiss behind your ear "Don't cover your face, I want to see you"

Gathering up enough courage and dignity, you rested your hands on his abs, rejoining his legs. You felt his abdomen contract under your blades and, right there, you felt it, something hard and hot touch your inner thigh, begging for attention.

"Shit, you're so-" "I know, darling" shushed you Beomgyu ", but right now focus on putting on a good show and showing what that asshole has been missing"

The knuckles of the boy below you (who you hadn't recognized as your best friend in a while) made wet noises as they hit your folds with dizzying force and speed. You felt like you were bordering on madness and the only thing you could focus your thoughts on was Beomgyu's digits making a “come” gesture towards himself, bouncing into his hand and biting your lip when hearing his airy laugh.

“Very good—fuck-, you're doing so good” you whimpered as Beomgyu's teeth kissed your neck, digging in with a care that belied the force and harshness of his actions in your south zone “Are you enjoying yourself, pretty? ”

“S-so much —oh f-fuck”

“Mmh” hummed the boy, wetting his lips hungrily “Do you like it when I touch you here…?” a little cry came from your mouth when his fingers curved, searching for your belly button "Come on, baby —shit, tell me how you like it, I want to make you feel good" with two fingers, he took control of your jaw, forcing an eye contact of what more intimate “do you prefer to hard-dom me? I would do anything you asked me for those pretty eyes you make"

“I-I like to h-listen to you, g-gyu” you were a trembling ball of blush and sweat, eagerly awaiting any delicious movement Beomgyu's fingers made.

"Is that right?" his thumb pressed on your lips, causing you to hug the intruding finger with your tongue "ah— so obedient, didn’ even have to ask" you closed your eyes tightly at the strong praise that escaped from Beomgyu's mouth unconsciously "good job, princess" fucking god. You lost any remaining contact with reality, pulsing around the fingers embedded in your pussy and suppressing your moans with the boy's finger resting in your mouth.

"oh god— you're squeezing so good " your shoulder blurred the dirty mutterings of Beomgyu, who was getting more and more lost in the curve of your neck "more, ple— ngh, gyu p-please" "what a greedy girl I have, doin’ what he wants with me" the boy growled, enjoying the view that his position afforded him "come on, princess, use me, imagine you are using one of your pinkie toys on that pussy, mmh, just like that"

You began to rub against his bulge and fingers, seeing the stars as Beomgyu stimulated your clit with his thumb, continuing with his movements into your tight cunt. Your moans were heard above your friend's, which faded as his mouth made contact with your cheeks or jaw.

"you gonna come?" he whispered as he noticed the trembling and erratic jolts on his legs "tell m-me, sweetheart, words"

"'m gonna —ngh- come!" tears began to form in your eyes and Beomgyu felt like his pants were going to burst at that sight

"are you —fuck!- gonna come on t-that dickhead’s cock?" you shook your head from side to side, making tears roll down your cheeks, but as you felt the grip on your jaw intensify, you remembered Beomgyu's call for attention. "Nuh-uh, gonna c-come on gyu's f-fingies!"

"fucking s-soak them, princess, go ahead, make me proud"

your orgasm hit you with a deep moan and several more tears. Beomgyu helped you ride it, murmuring more praise and petnames in your ear, praying you didn't notice his teary eyes from being edged into his pants.

Blinking, you came out of the trance you had plunged into in your post-orgasm, snuggled into your best friend's neck and calming circles being drawn on your thigh by his clean hand. You settled back on his lap and felt Beomgyu's hard cock through his pants and underwear poke at your cunt. You took a breath to speak but he cut you off before you could intervene.

"Please tell me that boy also fucked terribly, because I'm more than ready to give you the fuck of your life"

[wannab-urs]

Congrats on 1.5k! So deserved!! 🖤

To celebrate, I'd love a drabble. Any Pedro boy will do!

Keep rocking & being awesome, gorgeous! 🖤😘

Thank you so so so much <3 I hope you like this ahhhh

Save a Horse... Or Whatever

Pairing: Jack "Agent Whiskey" Daniels x Reader

Summary: Whiskey got hurt on a mission and he comes into your lab to get patched up.

Warnings: Jack Daniels being allowed to speak, medical shit that is completely bullshitted, one mention of blood, some talk of like digging around in a wound, etc, Whiskey calls you Soda pop and Sugar. Technically you're Agent Soda. Brief descriptions of oral m!receiving. No use of y/n, reader isn't gendered (I don't think?) WC: 900

A/N: I kind of think I'll turn this into a full one shot at some point? This is unbeta'd sorry!

Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You really did not expect to end up with Agent Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today. Maybe you’d thought about it before, maybe hoped the opportunity would present itself at some point, but certainly not today. 

–-

He left your field office this morning for what was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, shoot the fuckers, take the briefcase, call in the clean up crew. Simple, easy, something he’d done a hundred times. But somehow it got fucked up six ways from Sunday and he ended up limping his sorry ass into your lab, carrying the brief case but also dragging his left leg. 

“Howdy, Soda Pop. Reckon you could fix up my leg?” He flashes you his trademark sideways smile and a wink, before his face crumples and his legs nearly give out from under him. 

“Fuck, Whiskey! What in the hell happened to you?” You run over to help him, grabbing his thick arm and heaving him onto your examination table. 

“Let’s just say I did not receive a Kentucky welcome.” 

“Clearly. Can you take your jeans off, or am I gonna have to cut you out?” Whiskey smirks at you again and you brace yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth. 

“Well now, Soda Pop, thought you’d at least take me out to dinner before you tried to get in my pants. Think I can manage to get naked for ya though, sugar.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Whiskey you’re literally bleeding out,” you chastise him as he pulls off his belt. He winces as he shucks his blood stained jeans down his thighs, panting a little with the effort.

You try desperately not to show how much it turns you on. The guy you’ve harbored a bit of a crush on for years stripping down right in front of you… Who could blame you, honestly?

“Fuck! Soda, I’m too weak to whip a gnat. You’re gonna have to pull ‘em the rest of the way.” He collapses back on the table, jeans sitting not even half way down his thighs. 

You huff an annoyed breath and roll your eyes. “Shoulda just let me cut them off, idiot.” You pull off his ridiculous designer cowboy boots and yank his jeans the rest of the way down. You head over to your storage cabinet and grab some alcohol wipes, a pair of forceps, and a Beta Gel shot. 

Stepping between his parted legs, you clean his wound with the wipes as carefully as you can. His breath hitches in what you assume is pain and he digs his nails into his palms. “Alright, Whiskey, I gotta dig the bullet fragments out now. I can give you a pain shot, but your leg will be numb for the rest of the day. Up to you.” 

He props himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Don’t need a shot, sugar. I can handle it.” 

You raise a very skeptical eyebrow, but grab the forceps anyway. As you start the process of removing metal fragments from his leg, Whiskey sucks in a breath and his head falls back between his shoulder blades. You initially think it’s from pain. “Sure you can handle it, cowboy?” 

“Oh yeah, baby doll. I can handle it.” You eye him suspiciously, before trailing your eyes back down to where you’re working on his leg. Something catches your attention though. 

“Jack Daniels,” you say sternly. “Are you fucking getting off on this?” His cock is half hard in his boxer briefs. 

“And what if I was? Pretty girl, fixin’ me up, touchin’ me all over…” He trails off. 

“That why you became an Agent, Whiskey? You got a pain kink?” You resume pulling the pieces of the bullet out of his leg, nearly done now anyway. 

“Just ignore it, sugar. It’ll go away,” his voice is raspy, rough as if he’d been yelling and so low you feel it in your gut. You pull the last bit of the bullet out, grab the beta gel shot, and stab it into his thigh. 

His cock jumps in his underwear and he falls flat back on the table, letting out a slight whimper. 

“And what if I don’t want it to go away, Whiskey?” You don’t move from between his thighs. In fact, you step in closer, trail your hands up the outsides of his thighs and press your thumbs in. 

His head perks up at that and he meets your eyes, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Well then, Soda pop… How’d you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” 

“That’s a terrible line, Whiskey. I really hope you don’t use that often.” 

“Only once or twice, sugar.” You roll your eyes, but hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs anyway. You pull them down and his cock springs out, hitting his belly with a thwack. “Jesus, Jack, how do you walk around with that thing?” 

“Bowlegged,” he deadpans. You snort a laugh and take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his obscene girth. You dip your head and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip and sliding down as far as you can in one smooth motion. 

–-

And that is how you ended up with Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today.  Next time you’re aiming to end up in his bed. 

[christinebloodwrittings]

Till' death do us apart: Chapter 2.

Pairing: Angel Y/n x Alastor Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Warnings: Blood, violence, harsh language, the v's. Usage of she/her pronouns, bc the character identifies mostly as a woman.

Masterlist –– Last chapter–– Next chapter

Taglist: open...

(Picture taken from Pinterest, creator unknown)

“Hell-born, Sinners, Ladies, Gentlemen, and whatever the fuck you are!” The crowd went wild, every single seat occupied. The lights came on, the referee advancing to the illuminated area, with the microphone in hand and a brilliant attitude.

“Here in our humble ring, I come to offer you an event that, if I say so myself, will be unforgettable. I have to show you fighters whose origin comes from Pentagram City, to the Ring of Sloth, and a last-minute addition, which I will leave for last as the pièce de resistance” hungry roars filled the place once again.

“The time has come, welcome to another night of blood, sweat and tears, please place your bets and remember that if your player loses, you can throw stones at her. May luck be on your side, and may the strength of her fists make you millionaires”.

“I hear this is your first clandestine fight, Ricky?”

“Yeah, I mean, in Greed, this type of things are very recurrent, never been to one myself till’ now, still, to think this isn’t managed by Mammon is crazy”

“Well, we have our own thing going on ‘ere”

“Seems like that, okay, so we begin with our first couple”

“Wanna know what makes my games unique?” his friend nods, sweating.

"Unlike normal boxing, hitting the back of the head or behind the head; kicking, either stepping on, or biting the opponent; holding, trapping or grabbing the opponent's arms, hips or neck are totally legal" he announced with a wicked smile.

“So, your players…”

“Either one of them surrenders and gets killed by the crowd, or they kill each other”  

You could hear the screams of the crowd through the weak walls of the dressing room, that and how much the demons were beating each other in the ring. They were going very hard at each other, it seemed.

Bloodlust must’ve been the best show this hell-hole could offer, giving that the day before, there was already word around that a fallen angel was going to fight, naturally, sinners lost their minds for that kind of proposal, tickets sold out almost immediately.

“So doll-face, I need to ask ya' a favor” Jambo walked through the doors, dangling his cigarette around in his hand, “I need you to stall the fight, I know it’s a big opponent, but don´t knock him out so quickly, and maybe let him make you bleed a little” he blew a little smoke in your face, a distorted grin adding to his fat face, as he watched your face, no reaction whatsoever.

“A bigshot is here to watch” he smiled in return of your wit, taking a few steps back as he kept gloating about his efforts, but how much does it really takes to properly advertising bloodshed? “Exactly, a true money maker that sick fucker, so the more pain he sees the more he´ll invest, and  you’ll get 20% of what he hands out, plus your wager” you nodded, not really caring how high was your cut, in your current state it was better to have a miserable pay than absolutely nothing.

You’ve spent a few days in intensive training, drawing punches to make it seem like you knew anything at all about boxing, was definitely different than waving your spear and oz around. Truth to be told, elegance and strength didn’t go well until Jambo saw you fight, it resembled a ballet, your body moving gracefully and quickly, while your fists could break the earth in two if you wanted to do so.

He loved that.

You took a deep breath, your fingers anxiously playing with the bandages covering your knuckles, they didn't let you wear the proper gloves, according to Jambo, to ensure the most damage to the recipient, however he agreed to the bandages and pads between the joints of your fingers, keeping thus, a certainty that due to an excess, whether due to adrenaline or the tension of the moment, there would be no easy way for you to break your own fingers.

“It’s time” a demoness broke the silence, you’ve been twenty minutes drifting, instead of warming up, “Thank you, wish me luck” you caught the smug smile she shot while watching you walk out of the room.

The bull-like demon awaited you on the contrary side of the squared circle, your breath caught in your throat, not because one good punch at you from his massive humanity could probably hurt a lot, no, that was a fact, but because you noticed Jambo making signals at you, his eyes looking up, making you search in the raging crowd above you, two demons highly dressed sitting in the golden section, the bigshots, you figured.

After the introductions were adjourned, the bell rang, the demon launched himself at you, fully forward hitting your chest with his elbow. You flew against the ropes, using then to propel yourself, a severe punch to the underside of his chin made him fall back against his back.

Mentally you had counted ten minutes, it was time to put an end to the constant violence, the bull took advantage of the second you took your eyes off of it to spit blood, to grab you by the neck and crash you to the ground, a dull sound accompanied your fall, it echoed through the room, a terrifyingly large crack manifesting beneath your head, shattering the floor of the ring.

Your vision clouded for a few seconds, the demon completely deforming, his figure ended up resembling a corrupted dislike of your brother Michael.

His sharp grin mocked you, “So many years of being the devil's defender. Millennia spent training, watching the world deteriorate, unable to do anything for his creations, simply leading them to their eternal punishment. How does that make you feel, Azrael? Are you letting a godless creature win? Are you really going to abandon everything you've fought for? Yourself, your brothers…” he laughed maniacally, your fists cracked due to your strength.

“Your beloved sinner husband?" he rolled his tongue in a sarcastic way on the word beloved, that is what made you lost it.

The demon saw your black eyes turn into a shiny gold color, the whites going completely black, the darkness taking you down into the deepest of the abyss. Your hands weren’t soft and white but black and sharp, breaking into his muscles, “H-Hey, the fuck are you doing!” the demon let your neck lose, air finally making its way into your lungs, giving you free range to let your voice go free in a guttural way, it made the bull shiver and start praying for his life, desperately pulling on his own skin trapped into your iron grasp.

Saying you saw red was an understatement, with a kick the demon broke free, his blood leaving a trail visible in your distorted vision, for you, he had a smirk and your wings in his hand, waving them in front of you while laughing.

“You…are unworthy of all love” you muttered for yourself, the bull looked around as the crowd demanded you to finish him, then his eyes landed on your darkened face, a cold feeling crawling up his spine. “Death, I beg you, spare my life” he cried, “Pathetic” you uttered, launching yourself at him, full speed, crashing your fist into his skull.

The dust from the already broken floor raised up, covering both of you, “Lay still, don’t move, or you’ll be dead for real” you whispered, canceling the nerves and spine of the demon under your heel.

As soon as the dust cleared everyone’s view, Jambo went ahead, taking the hand of the demon into his hands before cheering into the microphone, “He has no pulse, we have a winner!” he pulled your arm up, clearly happy with the result.

A rose fell on your face out of a sudden. The green stem laced with a black ribbon with three V’s embroidered. You couldn’t care less about it.

After the place was cleared, you found your way into the infirmary. There you found the demon, still froze in your work, which you set him free after a swift move of your fingers. His back rose up violently from the bed, his breathing intense and shaking.

“I am truly sorry” you said as soon as he calmed down a little, seeing that you weren’t angry anymore,  “I…I have seen you before, right? when I was…alive”.

“Most likely” I would be lying if you told him you remembered every single soul you meet.

“You are Death, the exorcists sent their master to kill us now?” it didn't surprised you that humans like him had little grasp in the concept of death, they chose to believe in whatever makes them feel safer, but the truth was only one.

“I don’t cause the termination of a life, your kind, and time, does that, I merely am a collector. And the extermination was an unknown term for me, until a few days ago.” Sighing, he took your hand in his, “Figuring that out, caused my fall” he hummed in response to your words.

“Are you against it?” he asked, in complete disbelief.

“I think it is cruel enough making sinners spend the rest of their afterlife among people even worse, hunting each other, so that, on top of it, the best and most sensible solution that they came up with is even more blood, pain and fear, they treated sinners like a vermin that must be eliminated, that is not correct, that is not how heaven should keep things in control” your eyes glowed almost like in the ring, making the demon shiver.

Nonetheless, he caressed your face with a tenderness, that could be considered holy, “Thank you” he starte, “If you hadn’t, they would’ve...” you nodded, offering him a sweet smile, “You may not believe me, but it is truly the least I could do in such a conundrum, I am…glad I stopped when I did”, he laughed and agreed with you.

⚰️ 📻

“Hey doll, come ‘ere” Jambo called you as soon as he saw you coming out of the infirmary.

As you came closer, you noticed two demons in front of him, the air thickened more and more as you got closer.

“This are Vox and Valentino, our main patrons, Overlords of hell” the fancy suited man nodded, his head was rectangular and resembled a television, how odd. “Charmed” you lied, feeling the icks as the taller demon eyed you up and down with a smile on his face, and red drool coming down his chin.

“My, my, what a ravishing creature you are” he had four limbs, one of them grabbed your hand, harshly pulled you close,  you mad the mistake od flinching at the touch of his golden claws againt the curve of your waist, his smile widening at it.

“How much you want for her?” Valentino asked, not taking his red gaze off of you, “Name your price, shitbag, we don’t have all day” he urged after getting no response.

“She’s one of my best fighters, there’s no way in hell I’m givin’ her away” being under contract with him gave him that upper hand, him thinking he owned your soul.

But how could you? When there was never a soul to begin with?

“Well that can be arranged” the moth pulled a pink gun, and without even blinking, the deafening sound lead to another, Jambo’s body collapsed, lifeless against the floor, “A real fallen Angel video, will make me rich”.

You made no attempt to move, one of his hands was dangerously close to the hem of your scars, if he touched them, you would probably have to clean his rests off the walls.

“No, thank you” the hand in your back crawled its way up to forcefully lift your chin up, “I don’t think you’re in position to refuse us, perra” another word for bitch, is that the best he could do?

After a few seconds of silence, your laughter echoed in the hall, “Go ahead, you two have not a single speck of dirt about me that I care being spread to the masses, not anyone that I care enough that could easily fall into your hands, and there is no amount of torture you can practice on me that will make me change my mind” you hissed at the incremental of his grasp on you, “So, gentleman, what card will you play against me now?” this time It was Valentino's time to laugh.

“You know~, I just remembered I like to play with my toys before sharing" he licked his lips with his long tongue, moaning in anticipation before finishing his sentence, his lips ghosting yours, "Can't wait to destroy you".

“I can already see the title of the film, 'Exorcist, divine punishment' first of two parts" you felt a sting on the back of your neck, then everything began to spin, dizziness took over you, losing strength, visibility,

"You can do better 'Tino" the TV man sassed, taking a strand of your hair into his claws, admiring how soft it was.

“Shut the fuck up Vox, see you on the other side, preciosa” he purred before you lost all senses.

It all fade to black.

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 2 - Step

----------------

FCG & Ashton - ModernHuman AU

Steps.

Why did it always have to be steps?

What was wrong with a nice, accessible ramp? They were easier for everyone, nobody had to fear tripping down or up them, parents with strollers could get inside, injured folk didn't have to struggle… and Fresh Cut Grass could have a little of his independence back, being able to wheel themself in with their wheelchair.

But of course life was hardly ever that kind.

A tired sigh slipped past their lips as he stared up at the flight of stairs, blocking them from the sweet little cafe they’d been oh so excited to try out. A customer, Jester, they thought, had been raving about the cupcakes here, and knowing the woman to be a real pastry connoisseur, Fresh Cut Grass had near instantly wanted to get a few themself.

But that dream seemed so cruelly out of reach now.

“Man, you’d think fucker’s would have caught on by now. Shit like this doesn't fly these days! Fancy new chairs and tables, but the owner can't be assed to make their business accessible. Bastard!”

Oh how they startled, jolting in such a way that almost had Fresh Cut Grass and their chair veering dangerously close to toppling. A solid, scarred hand steadied them, letting his frantically beating heart finally come to a rest.

“Fuck! Didn't mean to scare ya like that. My bad. You alright?”

“Y-Yeah! You just gave me a right startling, is all. I'm a-okay!”

“That's a relief. I’d feel like crap if I’d sent your heart packin’ or something…”

Did… Did the stranger look guilty? Well, that just wouldn't do at all! After all, a stranger was just a friend you hadn't met, and the last thing Fresh Cut Grass ever wished to see was a friend all sad and down in the dumps!

“It's fine, really! I spook real easy, my friend Imogen says I’d jump at my own shadow if I ever forgot it was there! But you're not scary yourself. I like your purple hair, and the eyeliner! Oh, and your cane too! Did you decorate it yourself? It looks fun-spooky!”

The stranger stared down at them, slowly blinking as their one good eye focused down on Fresh Cut Grass, taking in everything from their chunky cerulean blue box braids and round, thick glasses, to their bright yellow sweater and mismatched fingerless gloves. In contrast to their own ragged leather vest, covered in hand stitched patches and badges, deep red plaid pants and spiked belts, topped off with boots so hefty they looked able to smash someone’s head in… Well, they couldn't look more different.

Yet Fresh Cut Grass still smiled up at them, all warm and welcoming and so completely genuine that it seemed to catch them off guard.

“Most people would just flip me off and tell me to get fucked,” they muttered, leaning heavily upon their cane before shrugging and sticking a hand in their pocket, seemingly relaxing. “I didn't decorate this shit myself. A friend did. She’s one hell of a spooky ass bitch. Real arts and crafty. But anyway. I’m Ashton. Ashton Greymoore. You?"

“Oh, right! Introductions! Smiley Day to ya, Ashton, I’m Fresh Cut Grass!”

There was a beat of silence, more than a tad awkward, as Fresh Cut Grass awaited their response. Likely a laugh or a roll of the eyes or maybe even a sneer! Most people were funny about names when they weren't the most normal.

Not Ashton though.

No. He grinned, wide and bright and just shimmering with absolute delight.

“That's one hell of a name. You picked it yourself?”

“I did! It's my favorite smell. Ya don't think it's… weird?”

“Oh no, it's weird. But, I mean, fuck, have you looked at me? I like weird,” Ashton grinned wider, throwing one last glance at the inaccessible cafe as something shifted once more in his demeanor. “I know a place a few blocks from here. Unlike these fuckers, they actually give a fuck about people like us. Wanna join me there, Grass?”

“... Do they do cupcakes?” Fresh Cut Grass asked, their mind already made up before Ashton even had a chance to answer.

“Freshly baked in house. So… You coming?”

“I’d love t’ join ya! Thank ya kindly, Ashton!”

Their laughter in turn was rough and harsh, yet the warmth it held settled deep within Fresh Cut Grass’ tired bones… and within moments, he couldn't even quite remember why they’d been upset at all.

[ghostykai]

Overlord!Kaire: Fortuna

In this version, Kaire arrived in the middle of Alastor's absence and did not know about the Hotel.

Check out other works about Kaire: Kaire info, Kaire pt. 2, oneshot 1

(My Ask Box is open! So if you want to ask anything, ask away!)

When Kaire arrives in Hell, they immediately know they are fucked if they don't find a way to get above the rest

Stealing a tarot deck from the old demon that runs the antique store was easier than they liked to admit, their giant hands coming in clutch

"Readings! Find out your Fortune for just Five bucks! Best tarot readings in all of pentagram city!"

Thus, Fortuna was born

A few months in they found that setting up near casinos was where real money was made, filled with people willing to give anything to know the winning numbers or when to bet

Soon they made a reputation and they started asking for more: "I take 5% of all your earnings" "One favour for a reading"

From a little stand to a proper store, from 5% of earning to 10%, 15%, 20%, they grew and grew until one day:

"Welcome, what can I do for you," Fortuna asked when their heard the bell at the door ring. The small room was dimly lit and filled with the smell of ash and something woody. Fortuna leaned back in their plush seat, yellow eyes seemingly glowing, rifling and shuffling through their cards.

The demon that had just walked in sat down opposite to them, eyeing Fortuna wearily, "Yer the demon that can tell the future are ya not? Ya can tell folks' secrets and shit, right?"

Fortuna smiled, leaning closer to the table, interested, "For the right price, yes," they chuckled, it weirdly echoed in the room, "I can tell you anything you want: past, present or future, known and unknown."

"Whatever ya say," the demon replied gruffly, "I got someone I gotta get rid of, competition ya might call it. Tell me how to get ahead, take em out of the game."

"Oooh I see, rivalry," Fortuna's smile spread wider, "And what are you willing to give up for this knowledge, sir?"

"Anthin ya want"

The room was now clearer, illuminated by the yellow glow of Fortuna's eyes, not only the ones on their face, other nine had appeared like a crown, floating around their head. The demon gulped at the sight, the eyes seemingly all laughing down at him.

"Anything?" Fortuna asked in a sing song voice.

"Yes, anythin, I want that fucker gone!"

"What about..." In the blink of an eye (or 9) Fortuna was gone. The demon all but shrieked when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "your soul"

He turned but Fortuna wasn't there, once again sitting at their usual place, playing around with their cards, smile as big as it had ever been.

That was the first soul. The demon did in fact beat his enemy, but at what cost

After that, striking deals for soul became much more usual as word spread of just how good Fortuna's divinations were

Fortuna didn't really know when they became an overlord, but one time as they were strolling around the city, they heard people whisper: "The Fortune demon" "the overlord of fate"

Obviously, due to their occupation Fortuna did know a lot about Hell, but not many details about the other Overlords, they really didn't care for that

Fortuna also didn't quite care about their status as an overlord, all they wanted was to be financially stable and not be bothered

Carmilla was obviously the one to reach out, calling Fortuna for a meeting that honestly was a waste of time. They discussed what Fortuna's territory is, mostly having carved out a place near the gambling houses and what they planned to do with it

The second overlord to approach them was Vox. Asking if Fortuna wished to ally with him and the other Vees. That created a tentative cooperation, mostly consisting of Fortuna saying what the next successful trends would be and the Vees offering enough money to not make Fortuna regret their decision

Fortuna doesn't really use the souls under their possession much. Here and there they may ask for a favour or some Intel one of them might have, but for the rest, they leave them be

When they find out about the Hazbin Hotel and the Radio demon Alastor, they are quick to check in with their cards

Fortuna is extremely opportunistic in this version so when they find out it's convenient for them to join the princess of Hell, it doesn't take long for them to be knocking at the Hotel door

But the rest is for another time since this is getting long. Hope ya liked it, more is coming!

[drades-lair]

Tummy Ache

Fandom: HelluvaBoss

Pairing: Striker/Chaz

Rating: T

Note: This was inspired by this twitter post https://twitter.com/apparentwr1ter/status/1701249709677879766

Chaz swore the ratty rug beneath his feet was starting to form a hole with how many times he was pacing it. Striker was Six weeks overdue from his current job, a day or even a week wasn’t unusual however six weeks was highly unusual for the pale imp. Sighing heavily Chaz trudged to the bed where he curled up, tail coiled around himself like a frightened pup as he stared at the twenty unanswered texts under Striker’s name on the shark’s phone. Chaz gave a little whimper, rubbing his stomach gently as it clenched sending little pangs of pain through him. Suddenly the door to the motel opened causing a moment of panic followed by relief as Striker trudged inside, he was dirty with a few obvious minor injuries, but ultimately the imp was fine. Striker released an irritated, exhausted sigh as he shut the door behind him and toed off his boots before turning back around to Chaz.

“Howdy fish cake,” Striker greeted, tossing his duffle onto the small round wooden table, arching a brow at seeing the money he’d left Chaz for food still sitting on the tables surface.

“Welcome back, you were…gone for a long time,” Chaz smiled remaining on the bed with his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Yeah, fuckers tried to screw me over with the payment forcin’ me ta chase ‘em halfway across hell,” Striker groused, digging around in his duffle till he found his med kit.

“Oh…did you get my texts?” Chaz wondered.

“Nah, sorry fishy, during the initial job they broke my phone,” Striker explained, shrugging off his jacket followed by undoing his vest.

“Okay, we’ll have to get you a new one,” Chaz chuckled softly.

“Yeah, I’ll pick one up on the way out of town,” Striker agreed, pulling his long-sleeved black shirt off. 

“I made three hundred dollars in tips at the saloon,” Chaz informed Striker with a proud little smile.

“Humph, good for Ya fish cake,” Striker chuckled softly, moving over to the small fridge in the room only to furrow his brow in confusion at seeing the same pizza that had been in there when he left.

“Hey, isn’t this the same pizza that we had before I left?” Striker inquired, standing up straight with a gesture into the fridge. Chaz immediately looked away as he coiled in on himself a little tighter, something he did when Striker called him out on something he’d tried to hide from the pale imp. Striker pulled the pizza out of the fridge to toss it in the trash on the way over to the bed where Chaz was sitting.

“What’s goin’ on fish cakes?” Striker asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing…I just…forgot the pizza was in there…” Chaz trailed off.

“Oh yeah, did Ya forget about the money on the table as well?” Striker pointed out.

“N-no…I…” Chaz stammered unable to come up with an excuse.

“When did you eat last?” Striker asked now getting a concerned tone to his voice.

“A couple…days ago…” Chaz mumbled out earning him a shocked wide-eyed expression from Striker.

“What? Ya haven’t eaten in a couple days?” Striker asked in shock.

“I…I’m sorry…” Chaz apologized under his breath, fearful that Striker was angry at him.  

“What about the last eight weeks?” Striker asked now highly concerned.

“I was eating normally for the first couple weeks but after you didn’t come back, I started only eating the free meal from work,” Chaz explained, frown settling firmly on his features.

“Isn’t that just a side like fries or somethin’?” Striker asked seeking clarification.

“Yes,” Chaz mumbled again, pulling his tail tightly around his legs.

“What the fuck…? Why haven’t Ya been eatin’?” Striker wondered; concern now thick in Striker’s tone because normally Chaz was a garburator that never stopped eating. Striker was trying hard to not scare Chaz, he wasn’t angry at the shark just extremely concerned at the odd behavior.  

“I’m sorry! Mmm,” Chaz whimpered, his hands wrapping around his stomach.

“Huh? Did Ya get hurt? Or are Ya sick?” Striker asked noticing Chaz’s action.

“N-no…” Chaz mumbled out again, laying his chin on his knees.

“Okay, look fish cake I ain’t mad but somethin’ isn’t right wit Ya now what’s goin’ on?” Striker insisted getting up to walk around the bed to the side Chaz was sitting on, placing a hand gently on Chaz’s shoulder.

“I…don’t know, it’s just something that happens every now and then. My stomach starts aching then I lose my appetite,” Chaz explained to the best of his ability, rubbing his stomach for emphasis.

“Ya…have a…stomach-ache?” Striker repeated, arching a brow in curious confusion.

“Yes…my tummy hurts,” Chaz mumbled under his breath with a small pout on his face.

“When did this start?” Striker curiously inquired, slightly amused at the childish demeanour of Chaz.   

“About a week after the two weeks you told me you’d be gone for,” Chaz explained.

“When has this happened in the past?” Striker asked, starting to piece together what was going on with Chaz.

“Well, it happened after jobs went bad or before really big jobs, sometimes it happened when I had to meet with my bosses or…” Chaz rambled for a few moments before Striker held up a hand to stop him.

“Alright, alright, I think I know what’s going on here,” Striker chuckled.

“Really?” Chaz asked taking his turn to be confused.

“Yes, those were all situations where Ya were stressed or that’s what I’m assumin’ and it sounds like Ya get a stomach-ache when Yer stressed,” Striker concluded, pushing off the bed.  

“What? Really? Makes sense I guess…” Chaz trailed off thinking through all the times he’d experienced his stomach problems.

“Now, Ya got stressed cause I didn’t come back?” Striker inquired curiously, heading over to his med kit on the wooden table.  

“M-maybe…I was afraid you weren’t coming back,” Chaz mumbled again, averting his gaze once more.

“Okay fish cakes, hang on,” Striker sighed in exasperation.

 The pale imp popped open his med kit to pull out a rubber water bottle that he carried into the bathroom for a few moments. Upon returning Striker located Chaz’s bag on the floor which he rifled through for a pair of joggers and a T-shirt that he tossed at Chaz causing them to land on the shark’s head. Chaz took the hint to change into the outfit while the pale imp rifled around in his own duffle till, he pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup. After the soup was heated and Chaz was changed Striker made swift work of tending his minor injuries then changed himself into a pair of boxers before getting onto the bed next to Chaz. Handing the water bottle to Chaz, Striker instructed the shark to put it on his stomach followed by passing over the bowl of soup for Chaz to eat. Chaz finished the soup unfortunately his stomach started cramping immediately afterwards making him whimper as he recoiled in on himself.

“Hey, easy fish cakes. Come here,” Striker gently encouraged, pulling Chaz closer till the shark was curled up next to him with his head on the pale imp’s lap. Striker grabbed the hot water bottle that Chaz had set off to the side while he ate and gingerly pushed the shark’s shirt up off his stomach till the hot water bottle could lay against Chaz’s skin. Chaz gripped Striker’s thigh as he continued to whimper through the waves of pain when Striker gently slipped his hand between the hot water bottle and Chaz’s stomach. The shark gave a hum as Striker started gently rubbing in circles providing a modicum of relief from the waves of pain rippling through Chaz’s stomach. Slowly Chaz closed his eyes eventually falling into a soft sleep with Striker continuing to rub the sharks stomach till he too fell asleep.  

[lake-archive]

Track 4

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Series: Rat Infestation

Characters: Eli (by @watersofcamelot)

AO3 Link

Track 3 - Track List - Track 5

If there is one thing Eli hated the most outside of hypocrites who were a walking contradiction on their own it was those types of people who were just annoying. Lie to him all you want, break his bones or even kill a man. He could literally care less, as long as there was some consistency to it and you are not the literal opposite of your morals – Say one thing, do the other. 

The other thing was the second worst however, the other one he hated a good bunch: Annoying brats. Those jerks who make the people suffer or are just a pain in the ass for the heck of it. The key difference is that they had to actively harm others. And this was one of those cases. The fuck does this shithead think he is!? Just walking in here and unleashing his lab rats onto this soup kitchen? Fucking bastard, does he think messing with people’s only option to survive is a fucking joke!? Some people cannot afford it but no, filth like that thought this was a fun way to pass time. Rot in hell, it was honestly pissing him off. He should be fine though, as long as the two other guys kept watch when it came to the rats. As long as they stay inside they will be dealt with in no time as well. Eli was enough to teach that shitter a lesson, he was sure of it! 

He only stepped closer and closer, no regard whatsoever, only set on one thing and one alone… Thus the chuckling became louder and louder in his ears, echoing at a certain point. It became more and more unbearable, that literal bitch… And yet he did not interrupt until being close enough and seeing somewhat of a silhouette.

A young figure, a guy perhaps, covering his eyes with his messy, stinky hair. The clothes looked equally rotten, so many holes in them, it all may as well be at the literal brink of breaking. And his smell would make anyone faint and usually Eli might… But he was so pissed that he couldn’t get his nose to smell it. This was nothing at this rate, literally nothing. Absolutely nothing. He will worry about this later in fact.

“Oi, Punk! The hell is this!?”

The kid got startled, jumping for a moment before seeing the tall male approaching him, shivering right on the spot. “Eh!? Ah– That–”

“Nevermind, I can see the shit you’re doing. You really think this shit’s funny!?” He didn’t want to hear the answer if he was completely honest. He just wanted to show this fucker a lesson. Fuck with the soup kitchen and its ingredients, fuck with him. That was the only law here, something everyone might be aware of. Or so he thought. But this one… He will learn it right now. 

The guy was still stuttering all over the place yet the answer was obvious. 

“At least man up and admit the shit you’ve caused!”

“I… Just… Yeah but—”

“All I needed to hear.” A quick spit on the ground. Eli ignored any other reasoning. No mercy for brats like these and he was going to show it. Attack someone who is defenseless? This shithead thought this was funny! Well, mess with his home and the people who actually rely on this stuff to get by and you’re worthy of a beating. Punks deserve to be taught a lesson. Besides, he was not someone to abide by the laws if they were stupid. The big woman was not here anyway to observe this and he had doubts that Rio and Dice would tell on him… So no one will know. Teach them the hard way, beat some sense into them. And that is why he put out his own microphone, wanting to spare his fists touching that filth.

“Ugh, I think I’m getting sick. From what sewer did you come from!?

Brat, Punk, Ass

Acts like shit, smells like shit

If ya think you’re gonna get away, think again!

Mess with the food, mess  with me!

Mess with the kitchen, mess with me!

Mess with the people, mess with me!

Take a bath first before returning!

Preferably in a clean hot spring!

No, just shitting, access denied!

Go back in the dirt where you came from!

Burn your ass!

You ain’t welcome here!

You make me sick!

You make me shudder!

You make me puke!

Leave or it might get worse!

My favorite color? Red.

Really itching to see it now not gonna lie

Wanna help me with that?

Then just play the punching bag!

I promise only your nose will break!

Ah wait no– Just kidding

You little shit!

Get lost!”

The ground was shaking and so were the walls, it was all too audible. The rapping may as well have been the equivalent of screaming. And yet, it was not in Eli’s nature to care, not really at least. All he saw while shouting from the literal top of his lungs were the several shots aimed at the guy, one shot after the other being fired, almost blocking the noise coming from his own mouth, but just almost. Regardless, several shots were fired, right into his chest before the stinky pile of shit fell onto the ground unconscious. Oh how sad these were not actual shots fired by an actual gun, he wouldn’t have minded that. Not for some idiot like this. Whatever his reason to potentially cause a literal infection, this was no game. 

Mess with another’s life and you are at risk losing yours at any given point and you might end up bleeding to death before you know it. It is a dangerous game… He knows from experience. 

“Be lucky I didn’t use my fist punk. ‘cuz I think you deserved it. Tch…” 

Even if it was not justified in the end, it felt right at this very moment. Then again… Who cares? As long as the problem is solved now.

Track 3 - Track List - Track 5

[hinatastinygiant]

53 | Fresh Cut Grass

Pairing: Tokyo Revengers x Fem!Reader

Wasteland Masterlist

“Where the hell have you two been?” Ran asks as you and Sanzu walk back through the entrance to the amusement park.

“Uh, out? Like we said we would be?” Sanzu nearly rolls his eyes.

“Well, there’s been some talk while the two of you were gone. South and Taiju were both runnin’ their mouths about how you’ve gone soft for your pretty little girlfriend,” he explains.

“They’ve got shit to say about Y/N?” Sanzu then questions.

Ran looks over at you for a moment before glancing back at his friend. “They’re worried about you.”

“Did they not see me get punched in the nose or kicked in the gut?” you scoff, interrupting.

“Not now, Y/N,” Sanzu tells you as his eyebrows knit together. “Ran’s saying they think I’ve gone soft ‘cause I didn’t kill ya like I said I would the first time.”

Ran nods in agreement, verifying Sanzu’s beliefs. “Well what the fuck do you want me to do to prove my loyalty?”

“Prove your loyalty?” Sanzu repeats. You can see his shoulders relax as he turns slightly to face you. “Y/N, what are you up to?”

“What do you mean?” you scoff, feigning ignorance. “I’m staying with your group so I want to-“

“If you lie you only dig yourself deeper into the hole you’re in,” Ran chimes in. “Tell us the truth.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” you grumble. This was really not the way you wanted to ask Sanzu to help you. “But there’s this other group.”

“Oh, fuck, what did you do, Y/N?” Sanzu groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“Nothing! They’re not after me or anything. They just made things a bit too personal and tried to hurt me, too,” you continue to explain.

“And that group… do you care for their leader?” Sanzu hums.

“N-no, what? Why would I-“

“Good. Only I should be able to make you get all this excited,” he then nods to himself.

“I’m literally trying to ask you to help me kill these fuckers. The only reason I haven’t done it myself yet is because he’s got a bunch of loyal followers. They’ll kill me without a second thought.”

“We should go back and talk to this somewhere more private,” Ran then says to you both. “Come on, I’ll show you two where I’ve been staying.”

When Sanzu nods, the two of you follow Ran past the entrance of the amusement park, past the kiddie rides, and into an abandoned-looking miniature castle.

He then welcomes you into one of the first rooms and shuts the door behind you. “Take a seat,” he offers, pointing to the two sofas against either wall of the small room.

“Now, Y/N,” Sanzu huffs as you sit down. “Tell us about this group.”

“Sure, but first I want to know if you’re in. I’m not going to go through the trouble of explaining if you’re not going to help,” you agree, looking over at Ran who’s now approaching the two of you.

“You already know I’m in, Y/N. Why would you even need to-“

“She’s not even looking at you, stupid,” Ran groans as he shakes his head and sits down beside you. You can nearly hear Sanzu grinding his teeth as he watches his friend getting too close to you.

“Go fuck your-“ Sanzu begins until you cut him off.

“He killed my parents. Fucking chopped ‘em up into little bits and fed them to pigs,” you sigh as you look down at your hands in your lap.

“There’s pigs around here?” Sanzu hums.

“Really? That’s what you’re so fucking concerned about? You were so upset just a few seconds ago and now you’re thinking about fucking food?” Ran rolls his eyes. “Anyways, Y/N, continue…”

You continue to tell the two of them the story of your past and how recent events led you to find him again even after the end of the world.

“So what do you think?” you ask Ran when you’re done, biting the inside of your cheek as you await his answer.

“How many of them are there?” he replies.

“No more than two dozen,” you shake your head. “If we can convince the others-“

“If we can convince the others,” Sanzu chimes in, “Two dozen isn’t even all that much. You and I just took care of ten by ourselves.”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a fucking death wish,” Ran rolls his eyes. “Y/N, I’ll talk to my brother about it but consider us both in. However, we’ll only be in as long as you get South and Taiju in.”

“Didn’t you just say that they didn’t like me?” you grumble.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I said they’re concerned that Sanzu is going soft.”

“I’ll talk to them. Fuck if I’ll go soft,” he scoffs. “Besides, I’ll have them see you as an asset instead of a burden.”

“Good,” Ran nods. “Now please go. I love the company, I promise I do. Besides, it’s so much better than dealing with my idiot brother all the time, but I need a drink and some time to think all this over.”

“We understand,” Sanzu answers as he looks in your direction, cueing you to say the same.

“Thank you for considering, Ran,” you nod. “And if there’s anything else-“

“Anything else?” he hums intrigued. “Are you about to bribe me, darling?”

Sanzu frowns as he hears Ran’s words fall from his lips. “Watch your-“

“Is there something you want?” you ask curiously. You’d do anything at this point just to get rid of Kisaki from the same planet as you. You finally understand that saying ‘the world’s not big enough for the two of us’.

“Oxy,” he answers plainly. “Get me some oxy and bring it back. Then I might reconsider giving you an answer before South and Taiju.”

“Deal,” you answer quickly, despite how Sanzu starts to open his lips in protest. “I’ll get it for you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he nods. “Now go on, it’s not going to get itself.”

Wasteland Masterlist

Taglist: @pikagirl2001330 @romaka344

[nervouslaughter05]

Of Monsters and Men-Chapter 1

A/N: As promised, here is my second (and much happier might I say) addition to the CoD fandom! When the CoD edits started pouring into my TikTok feed, you would not believe how happy I was. Instantly, the healthy love I had felt for Ghost when I was younger and playing the game with my friends blossomed into a thirst quenchable only with the finest literature (Tumblr and Ao3 have been my saving grace) could satisfy.

I will be posting a ref sheet and a fact file for my OC on my art insta and here within hopefully the next week or so. Just know she is 5'6", has auburn hair she wears in a single french braid, and greyish-blue eyes.

Anyways, please heed the tags! I will be putting a note at the top of each chapter with some tags for that chapter specifically just for added protection for you readers :). Thank you and enjoy!

Art Insta: @timtoart05

C/W: blood and injury mention, OC patches up a bullet wound of a soldier and a knife wound (neither are described in graphic detail but blood is mentioned), minor language, mentions of killing and shooting

Masterlist

“Soap, I’m running a little low over here!”

“Here, catch!”

Grizzly snatches the magazine from the air, deftly reloading her rifle and taking aim at the incoming hostiles. She pulls the trigger and sends a ball of lead right between the eyes of one of the men. As he crumbles to the ground, she takes aim again, staring into her scope and sending another man into the dirt. 

“We cannae keep this up!” Soap yells to be heard above the sound of gunfire, taking down targets of his own. “The fuckers jus’ keep comin’. ”

She sends another man to the grave, shouting back, “You think I don’t realize that?”

“Alpha, where the hell are you?” Grizzly questions, pressing the com resting in her ear that was tethered to a radio on her vest. “We’re gettin’ hammered out here!”

“About four minutes out,” her captain replies, the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air traceable in the background. “Hold on.”

“Copy that.”

The marine to her right falls onto his back, clutching at his shoulder with a cry of pain. Her attention snaps from the rifle in her hands to the injured man, dropping it and hurrying to his side with her kit already open and ready to go. She keeps one of her hands pressing down on the one he already had on his shoulder to stanch the bleeding while the other pulls out gauze and cotton to pack the wound. Grizzly gently moves his shoulder up from the ground to check for an exit wound, instantly plugging her finger into the hole while she grasps a bottle of antiseptic. 

“Count to three for me, corporal,” she orders, flicking open the cap while the injured soldier does as told. 

Except she pours it on when he’s at one. He curses in pain, stiff beneath her steady hands. She expertly packs and bandages the wound. Once the gauze is firmly secured, the latex gloves get tossed away in favor of being swapped out for the combat ones. 

“Can you still shoot?” she questions, hands already back on her rifle as she gets a nod from the corporal. “Good. Back to your post.”

Grizzly transitions from corpsman to sniper instantly, resuming her position and taking aim at the men below. Right as she gets ready to take down one of the men hunting them from the outside of the compound they’d holed themselves in, the remaining men begin dropping like flies. She catches sight of a sniper taking aim at them from their spot on top of a nearby building right before there’s a hulking form shooting them in the back of the head. 

Ghost. 

“Fuck yeah!” she yells, watching the last man drop dead as Alpha team sweeps through. 

“Take that ya sonuva bitches!” Soap cheers, rising to his feet and a hand going to the com in his ear. “Just in time fellas.”

“You’re welcome,” Gaz replies, his voice filtering smoothly through the coms. “You comin’ down or do we need to move in?”

“Meet us halfway,” Soap tells him as Grizzly rises to her feet with the rifle grasped firmly in her hands. 

He leads the way, their squad moving behind him in a line. She’s second to last, the marine with the injured shoulder in front of her while a massive brute is behind her. They move with ease, boots thumping on the stairs as all eight of them make their way from the third floor to the first. 

Fresh air brushes fondly over her face once the squad is outside, soothing her heated skin.

“Good to see ya in one piece,” Gaz says, bumping Soap’s fist with his own in their handshake.

Grizzly ushers the marines onto the helicopter, turning to Gaz once the last soldier gets on. “Of course y'all make an appearance right as the numbers die down.” 

He laughs, turning and leading them to the helicopter just as Ghost was coming back. 

“Lieutenant,” she greets him, nodding at the helicopter. “Nice move out there. Bet that poor bastard didn’t even see you comin’. ”

He nods to her, voice gruff as he speaks. “Sergeants.”

She grins, climbing into the helicopter after Soap and settling into the first open spot she sees. Ghost follows closely after, dropping heavily into the seat at her left since the others had all filled up. Price enters last, nodding to her and Soap before taking a seat and ordering the pilots to take them back to base. 

And just like that, the mission was a success. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Soap if you don’t stop moving I have the authority to knock you out.”

The man chuckles at the threat. “Doesn’t that go against your oath, Griz?”

She snorts, shoving him. “We’re surrounded by marines. You really think they’d care?”

Gaz laughs at the pout the Scot puts on at the reply. “Aw c’mon, man. Ya know she loves you too much to do somethin’ like tha’. ”

“Debatable,” she quips, winding the bandage around Soap’s thigh where he’d been knifed during the fight.

“A’m hurt, Griz,” Soap tells her, placing a hand over where his heart is and putting on a mock frown. 

She chuckles. “Oh come on ya big baby. Even if I did knock you out, I’d make sure you were properly taken care of. I can’t be the only raging Scot around here to celebrate the death of the queen.”

Soap laughs at that, unable to stay mad while Gaz deadpans. “Guess yer right, lass. Even if yer only half.”

“Only one who ken wat yer talking ‘bout, Soap,” Grizzly says, laughing at the other man in the room with them shaking his head. 

“Even after all these years I still can’t understand the two of ya.”

“Don’t need to,” she hums, standing and encouraging Soap to do the same to check his bandages. “How’s that feel?”

“Better,” he replies, heading for the door of the med ward. “Wanna get some eats? The mess should still be open.”

Grizzly follows closely behind the other sergeant with Gaz at her side, making their way through the base. It wasn’t the one they called home, but considering she had spent five years in the marine corps before being called by Price to join his budding 141, she was able to steer them in the right direction. Marines walked past, nodding in respect to her and the team. More than once she heard a teasing “Evenin’, Mama Bear” passing by. This just made her grin and keep walking, knowing it was the soldiers own way of showing their respect to her as a doctor. 

“What’s up with their whole thing of calling you ‘Mama Bear’, Griz?” Soap asks as they enter the mess hall and get into line. “I don’t think I’ve heard any of them refer to you by Grizzly once.”

She shrugs. “That’s just the marine way, Soap. Gotta show their respect somehow. Many of them knew me back when I was still a corpsman meaning that I saved a lot of their asses out in combat.”

The room was still full of marines of various rankings shuffling about and sitting at tables eating. When she steps out of line to wait for Gaz and Soap to finish being served up, a squad marches in. They’re all very loud, shoving one another with playful roughness in line. She rolls her eyes at the display, all too familiar with it even after being officially away from the scene for nearly three years at this point. 

Her other two team members finally step away with their food, at her sides as they find a place to sit down and eat. She spies an empty table against the back wall, turning to face Gaz and Soap. Grizzly nods in the direction of the table, weaving through the mass of tables and bodies crowding them. They get to the back of the room, settling down and digging in. 

“How was the mission, Mama Bear?” a marine sitting at the table about two feet from theirs inquires, catching her attention right as she was taking a bite of her food.

Another marine cuts in before she can answer. “Oh come on Daniels. Ya know it went well. Any team with Mama Bear as the corpsman is gonna make it out in one piece. Ain't that right, Mama Bear?”

“Damn straight,” she replies, a grin on her face. “There’s a reason why you’re cautioned against riling up a grizzly with cubs, fellas.”

The marines chuckle at her response, leaving her to eat the rest of the meal in peace. 

“That was so corny,” Gaz teases, sipping his juice. 

She shrugs. “True though ain’t it?”

He just huffs out a laugh and keeps eating. Soap swaps banter with the marines and Grizzly joins in every now and then, amused highly at the confused expressions on the faces of the marines when she used her thick Scottish accent. Eventually the marines finish up, leaving with a chorus of “bye Mama Bear!”s and nods to the men she was with. 

She pulls her phone out, shooting a quick text to her older brother as she remembered something random he’d asked her on a call they’d had a few days ago. Before she could put it away, her ringtone goes off and the caller ID of “Mom” pops up. Without skipping a beat, her ringtone is silenced and the phone is put back into one of the side pockets of her cargos. 

“Scammer?” Gaz asks, gaze curious. 

Grizzly shakes her head, going back to eating. “Nah. My mom.”

Soap’s head snaps up, eyes meeting hers. “Why’re you hanging up on yer mum, Griz? Wat’s the woman done now, aye?”

“The usual,” is all she replies with, finishing off the last of her food and drinking the rest of her juice. “Her latest fixation is kinda funny though.”

Gaz seems slightly nervous as he asks, “And what would that be?”

She looks up from her tray of food, meeting his gaze. “When she’s gonna be getting grandkids from me.”

Soap nearly chokes on his drink from the snort of laughter that spills from his lips while Gaz takes a moment to process her words. 

“Wat aboot findin’ a partner first?” the Scot manages to say between his wheezing laughs, trying to rein it in. “Ye cannae jus’ pop out a pup at her request.”

“That’s what I tried to tell her,” Grizzly says, pinching the bridge of her nose between her pointer finger and thumb with furrowed brows. “So then she just goes ‘When’s the wedding then?’ and I almost lost it.”

Soap’s laughter rings out as Gaz shakes his head, shoulders shaking with his own laughs. 

“Sounds awful,” Gaz concedes. “She want you out of the military or somethin’?”

She nods, rising from the table as the men do the same. “Exactly. She hates how long I’ve been in for. Thinks I need to get out and do normal ‘woman things’-whatever the hell that means.”

“She’s very old fashioned isn’t she?” Gaz remarks, walking beside her. 

“Old-fashioned is an understatement, Gaz.”

The three of them walk out of the mess hall together, passing by the packed tables of marines. Murmurs follow in their wake, speaking of the prestige of the team. She’s amused by the murmurs, having grown used to them after spending a few years in 141. Soap and Gaz converse while they walk, the former very animated in his speaking and hand movements. 

Her phone vibrates in her pocket against her leg, but she pointedly ignores it. 

“Ey Ghost!”

She had zoned out, not seeing the approach of their team’s lieutenant. He nods to them in greeting, trying to go on his way around Soap. The insistent sergeant however blocks him, striking up–or at least tries to–a conversation with the other man. 

“Where ya off to, L.t?” Soap asks, sunshine attitude leaking from him in waves. 

Ghost looks down, voice neutral. “None of your business, Johnny.”

Grizzly rolls her eyes with an affectionate huff, stepping forward and placing a hand on Soap’s shoulder. “Leave ‘em alone, Soap. Maybe he just wants some peace and quiet away from you.”

The Scot guffaws, pouting at her. He looks back at Ghost. “Tell me it’s not true, Ghost!”

Ghost huffs, and she can tell from his expression alone he was raising an eyebrow beneath the mask. “Why? No point in lying to ya.”

She laughs at the mock anguish Soap plasters on his face, getting to relieve the sergeant’s drama from earlier when she’d been treating his wound. Gaz chuckles, heading down the hallway in the direction of the barracks and showers with a soft “M gonna clean up” to Grizzly. She watches him go for a moment before turning her attention back to the lieutenant and the other sergeant. 

“Ya wound me, Ghost,” Soap sighs dramatically, sagging down into Grizzly’s hold. “At least I still have ya Griz.”

“Wouldn’t change a thing, Soap,” she tells him, patting his back. 

“Since ya want to know so badly,” Ghost says, getting the Scot to perk up. “I was heading to the gym.”

She looks up at the lieutenant, slightly surprised before realizing this was Ghost they were talking to. 

“Lookin’ for some sparrin’ partners?” Soap asks, slinging an arm around Grizzly so she couldn’t slink away. “Am sure Griz would love to spar wi’ ya. Right?”

“I’ll break your arm, Soap.”

He laughs. “Calm down, shorty.”

“Show some respect to your superior,” she orders playfully, squirming from his grip. “I didn’t get into the military two years before you did just to not be shown the respect I’m due.”

Soap grins. “Sounds like we ‘ave an issue to deal wi’. Care to fight it out?”

She glances up at Ghost–Christ why did she have to be so short compared to him–who had an expression of a man resigned to an interrupted workout and then back at the Scot. “You’re on.”

[strang3lov3]

Bug my thots on “Bite Me” would’ve been way too much for a comment so I’m dropping it here 😁💖I’m pretty sure I’m going to enjoy this 5.3 K snack, although I would probably consider it more an entire meal 😍😋

Sweet how he taught her those card games.🤭🥰 Where do I have to sign up, to Also get a card playing lesson?

“Hi bored, I’m Joel.” Ahhh the Dad joke here it is 😂🙏🏻

“Uh-huh. Sit on your hands,” he commands.” I’m sat in sooooo fuckin sat already. He can take my hand privileges as often as he wants 😈🤭

I can definitely remember kids in my school playing slapjack and also just in general slapping each other‘s hands like high-fiving but not really. And also laying a coin on a table and snipping it at each other’s knuckles until they bled. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with us. 😅😂

“He uses his fingers to tease your palms, tapping and tracing along your skin.” Joel is playing dirty distracting her with the teasing 😆

I just have this mental picture in my head of them standing in front of each other having their hands in each other’s mouth and just biting their opponents hand. It’s kind of funny to imagine that. 😂

“The closeness in proximity, the peculiar intimacy of the game you and Joel have just played - it feels like something in the atmosphere changes, charged, the way the air feels before a storm.” It’s happening….oh hell yeah 😈😍🤭

“Bet you’re sensitive like that everywhere,” he whispers.” Stfu he can’t just say it like this without drastic consequences. 🫠🥵

Bug I swear you’re the next person I’ll put in horny jail for causing disruption to my panties. Fuck I really want him to bite me now and it’s your fault ahhhhhh 🤤

I’m begging to also have my sex assaulted by his tongue 👅

“He eyes you up and down, and then his lips curl into a crooked smile. “Look at you,” he whispers, tilting your head down to look at your body. “You’re all marked up, sweetheart. What a goddamn mess. Tried to tell ya this wasn’t a nice game.” Sometimes it’s alright to ignore the warnings at least when it’s Joel Miller 😋🤭

“He reaches up, pulls you close to his face and kisses you gently, tangling his tongue with your own in a way that makes you dizzy.” Switching from biting her so hard that she’s bleeding to being so gentle also made my head spin. 🤩

“I don’t know what came over me,” he says.” I think I know what came over him….The horny old men demon took the reins. 🤭😈

I know I didn’t have to say a lot to the actual smut, but I was just speechless. I could only absorb it and had no thoughts left for some passages. 😍🤤🫠

Yeah, it definitely got translated that you wrote this with your whole heart and pussy. My pussy says thank u 🙏🏻

Your cats at the end are sooooo cute and what a nice doorknob decoration you got 🤭😁❤️

WOW you weren’t joking. Many thoughts, and all of them welcome.

To answer your first question I don’t know where you sign up for card game lessons but if you find out LET A GIRL KNOW!!!! That was a little bit of a self insert - I only know those few card games. My dad tried to teach me Euchre and it just didn’t happen. It ended in tears. AND YES the dad joke. Joel can’t help himself and neither can I. Speaking of, I hope you had a nice Father’s Day 🩷

Also, Joel doesn’t want to bite you, but the parasites inside him want to bite you. I’m beyond happy you liked my teasing, chomping Joel. The whole fic was inspired by a scene from succession!!

Please do not call my cats cute, it’s going to their dumb little heads and they do not need to have any more audacity than they already do. Fuckers. Aren’t they so cute I love those assholes and oops. Don’t mind the bra on the doorknob. It’s my rainy day bra, it’s 3 years old and doesn’t really fit me but sometimes I have nothing to wear and she comes in handy. The clasps are all bent to fuck because I’m very hard on my bras and toss them in the washer and dryer with reckless abandon

[solardick]

Добро пожаловать

All the effort made to produce disfunctional relationships to experience. The point is to keep me down as much as possible while leaving me functional enough to be herded.

A change in alphabets. Will aid in producing symbols minimally affected by conditioning. The notion that the russians are nuclear’ly irresponsible in keeping production going under harshee environmental circumstances. The cold. As winters are heavy and stark. Stark is a word in association of it’s deffiniton.the latest film being I.S.S. Partnership and goodwill are countered by the destructive. It’s message is of a hurt of feelings. Trust and nurturing. Of feeling betrayed.

Flipping it around as I am not?

The fact that my date is a targeted personality to base media fantasy around. Media has been speaking to me directly. Timing of events and motivations. Centralized around specified dates for conditioning. As another outer person speaking directly to you. Similar to “natural” phenomenon. Of the birds and the bees and the trees in the wind. Like a hand petting a cat. If ine were to listen, to a purring tree. Thr branches and thr leaves, the rustling.

If you cant beat’em. Join’em.

Got to try and figure out a way of fallowing through on the motivation, while being put down, and bullied, to feel untainted by their Hs. Not to suffer negative consequences for growing instead of degenerating.

Beyond how much growth and cooperation i create in the world. All those people. All that support to evil deeds and evil intentions. Those pretendign sympathy to the others who ultimatly do. Your fucken welcome. Not tbat i get paid for it.

Maybe pluto comign along will bring torment to all those whim deserve it by right of way. If nature and i are conformed to a single entity. Then i do pray good fortune agaisnt my own will. That classically fake smile trying meekly to be honest.

Or on the evil side that CSkrs smile. Knowing and satisfied with the effort placed to bring you bad fortune.

Though its more complete to say. That everything is out on the table. There’s nothing to hide. The image catches multiple positions.

Though one wouldn’t trust a swindler. Or the peddler as has been taught, disseminated my way. Fishing out of a little pond and full of what has been released into it. Cheers fucker.

B is for family. And for knowing you have everything you need. In complete honesty. It also shows trust or faith in the opposing party. A welcoming relationship. The feeling of confidence in social matters. But also here serves as the image looking forwards. From the mirror. Separation of self into a projection. Based on influences not of the self.

The power of vowels. To say; drop her line and drop her a line. Are two completely different suggestions.

And my search for finding a dentist continues as they are all corrupt.

Im the black chick from startrek. Spock turned into a woman briefly. But got his mojo back. Need to embrace the inner spock and go full logical.

Something is wrong here. 99¢ a can. Maybe iy up to 2$ soemthing. 463 positive reviews uh?

Anyway. Went out to the dep and a guy was buying a can. And to continuenin this string theory. In association with cats and trees.

It be fun to muse with the definition of R to that of Я. As the letter Я is synomenous with the english letter i. As it serves a single letter word. Which is the self I and Я. In comparison to english Я’s pronunciation is identical to an affirmation. As its pronounced as ya or ja. Which means yes.

Comparatively speaking, between German and english is the word hell. For english is equivalent to despair or anguish or something similar. But in german hell means bright. As in a bright light. There a problem here. Considering. Bright and light are the associations of heaven. The german typeset is identical to the english qwerty system except they replace the strength card with that of the world card. This is suggestive of “man over nature” to stand in for the definition of the strength card. If its not being perverted with the flip of gender association.

The bible says to be closer to god is to know all languages. And yet am discouraged from doing so.

Anyway. Looks like im back to seatching tor another job to be ficked with st again. I ficken hate it here. And i cant walk into the buildibg without having lung pain and choking.

Hu pot store. Heres my id. Ok…. What?! I dhoild you. Its my fault you cant see. (Its was less than a foot from his eyes).Ok get out. Im not serving you. Why? Cause you told me to go fuck myself what? No i didn’t. I said you cant see. Do he bars off the entrance. Smiling. Fucken cocksucker.

(Its the same smile my brother used to give me. One time right before he came at me with an axe. A silly smile. Cause he tripped and hot embarrassed.) then almost hospitalize me if i didnt have such quick reflexes.) .. thats a fucked mix of influences… to have a start of another run through another level of hell.

What i cant be suicidal and not be own by sn ignorant gocksuvker looking to over himself on me cause he’s bored? Fuck off. Cheers to another tear of being ficken raped.

Ohwell giess im not studying cards tonight. Go watch the new age homosexyal tv instead.

And there go the crows. Nothing good gomming my way. On well buy my drugs illegally then. And walmart sending me my T-4 from two years ago? Great really? Is therw a connection there. That eoplw want to rub in that i dont get? Sorry i already got raped today. Your too late. Try again later.

Look at me becoming an asshole.

I think he won that one.

You do?

If you think about jt.

Temperance and the affirmation of self.

In the image of war. The moon reflecting the wheel. (Cog). The vowels may be taken out. And an R for temperance. Named with a powerful T. Of violence. And the Я. I see it. I like that letter.

Now we can deviate a bit from the script. Give the current i-fool card for joy to Я. If it occupies its own place. Add in another, actual, fool card. Modernize it slightly. Like i already have done 100% charged. The fool keeps the security in self. Top shape. One thinks the concert.

They intentionally suppressing his life?

Looks that way.

Я think so. Hah! see what i did there?

Temperance and fortification.

Theee goes the crow.

[toyhouselolcows]

Guidelines & Information

Hello & Welcome to Toyhou.se Lolcows, a blog made to just watch in amazement at the many grown adults or "lolcows" who flock to this website and make it their hobby to produce le "lols" for the on lookers. Thats is all the information I will provide because this is a side thing When posting asks you can refer to me as Dog for the smile dog icon I'm sure th users will wet themselves overs when they see it. I will not answer questions about my life outside this blog- only yes I'm an adult who is also on the spectrum which allows me to use sperg.

Rules:

-1: DO NOT POST MINORS ON THIS BLOG- children cannot and never should be classed as "lolcows" because big shock children are stupid as all hell due to immature brains. I would only allow minor based asks under these expections: The child has been scamming people for a while now, falseifying information as an adult to receive nsfw, and spreading doxes. Anything else will be ignored. If a child is caught doing illegal acts such as sending cp to an adult or other children- contact the fucking cops of your area with any information so they can pass it to the child or creepy adult asking for it area for further investigation not an internet blog because I'm not the fbi just a dog with a blog (insert laugh track here).

-2: Do not send in asks about serious stuff without proper evidence and not "just google it lol". I will not post, anything serious without evidence I can backcheck on. I'm not chronically online at al with toyhouse users so big shock I won't know who your talking about by vague wording like "that one artist ya know??".

-3: Asks I refuse to post in general: children being dumbasses,doxes, petty friend drama, such as my ex friend sold off the gifts I gave them" like kindly grow a spine anon it happens. Dick riders for animal,kid and the dead fuckers because yall actually need to seek either god himself or the woodchipper. I will not post asks I deem unfit and will delete and update any previous ones if I find out a user is infact a kid who posted a dumb take and make that correction for further notice.

If anyone could kindly also provide a certain smile dog gif icon that "triggered" so many toyhouse users. I would love to use that as the face for this blog because I could never find out which one it was only false leads thanks. If not after a while, I will ask a friend to make me one with an existing base for shits and giggles till I can find the real deal.