#I just operate on vibes alone

[alltimefail-sims]

Writing long posts for my Slashed sims has tired me out so I'm just going to post what my ADHD will allow me to so I can be done with this challenge <3

Also I watched the FNAF movie tonight and it was very cool! 👍

[mashmouths]

@ god if you don't want me to kill myself turn my power back on i am NOT playing

[goat-boo-truther]

SBI biking AU: Techno does extreme mountain biking, Tommy does extreme city biking, and Wilbur rides a motorcycle. Phil used to do extreme mountain biking, but then he messed up his leg in an accident, so now he dirt bikes.

[weisswinds]

anko uguisu and sawako yamanaka are related, no i will not elaborate

[sparrowwings-trash-backyard]

Kohei Horikoshi, AKA the author was never alive

[penguinbuttcheeks]

Three's a Crowd - ghost x reader

summary: you’re the latest addition to the 141. price and gaz have each other, ghost and soap vice versa. you start to realise that you’ll never be able to gain the attention of your comrades - let alone your lieutenant - the way you so desperately crave.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

cw: angst, typical cod violence, character death, mw3 spoilers

word count: 2,318

A/N: feeling angsty so have this :D (FURTHER PROOFREADING IS NEEDED !!! but im eepy and impatient its 2am)

also i genuinely can't live without music, so i always end up adding a song that kinda reminds me of my fic. its not something that needs to be listened to - simply any song i find that kinda suits the vibe of the story and also just sharing some good music for others to enjoy !! idk, just something i enjoy doing (im rambling)

Being the latest addition to the TaskForce 141's ensemble had its downfalls.

While you were immensely grateful for the opportunity to have been recruited by John Price himself, there was still the lingering discomfort of trying to fit in with a new group.

It was childish really. Such a minuscule concern whilst in the midst of fighting a war.

It had been several months since you were enlisted, yet your relationship amongst the four members seemed to lag in comparison to the camaraderie they each shared between one another. Years of companionship amidst the terrors of combat had strengthened the bindings of their connections, forcing them to rely on one another when faced with life and death. It was something that you had yet to experience with them.

You know that these things take time - especially given that fact that it was so common to lose comrades in this field of work. Everyone was terrified of getting attached. 

Over the coming days, the five of you had been preparing for an upcoming mission. It was crucial that everything panned out perfectly. Price wasn't leaving any room for fault, not when the safety of thousands were at stake. thousands of civilian lives. Men, women and children.

While Price and Gaz - with the assistance of Farah - had set out to Urzikstan to lead an infiltration on a Konni base they believed Makarov was operating at, you were assigned to Verdansk with Soap and Ghost. 

The task; stop Konni from destroying the Gora dam.

The three of you were currently grouped at the meeting point, scoping the area before setting off to defuse the bombs scattered across the site. With the little numbers you had, you were going to have to rely on stealth. You hated stealth.

Stealth required trust. Trust in your comrades to complete their designated tasks without fault, trust in your comrades to stay alert. 

You had none. 

You were determined to change that succeeding this mission.

"Be advised, Konni personnel are grouping near multiple locations below you." Laswell's voice snaps you from your thoughts, her voice ringing through the comms. 

Ghost and Soap look up at where you were perched. You were their sniper for this mission. They were relying on you to keep them covered and you were not going to let them down.

You raise your hand in the air, giving them a thumbs up to alert you were ready and in position. The two men send a curt nod in return before setting off to track down and defuse the explosives.

With Laswell over-watching the operation, and you giving the duo support from a higher vantage point, the low numbers were of little concern. The four of you knew that you would be able to carry out the mission smoothly. Besides, 

Failure wasn't an option.

You watch as Ghost silently takes out several guards, advancing his way through the facility as he tries to locate the bombs.

"Bagged 'em" Laswell confirms another kill for Ghost.

“Two guards, on your three by the barrels” you alert Ghost, watching as he stealthily approaches the guards. “I’m lined up, I can get them in one”.

They’re on the ground before Ghost can even blink.

You grin as you peer through the scope of your sniper. This was going to be cake.

“Good to see you in one piece, Johnny” Ghost huffs, splayed on the floor of the heli alongside you and Soap.

“Haven’t felt better, LT.”

It was a scramble trying to meet with Nikolai and board the aircraft, lifting off amidst the enemy's gunfire. You ensured there were no men left standing by the time you all were long out of sight. 

Price would be pleased. 

“Yeah, I’m okay too. Thanks for asking” you huff out in annoyance, watching as Ghost lends Soap a hand, lifting him to his feet with a small grunt. 

You get up by yourself, a simple side glance sent your way from Ghost before both the men turn to Nikolai. At least Soap had the decency to return a relieved smile.

“Mission accomplished, Bravo. You three took down an army and saved lives tonight” Laswell congratulates through the comms, her usual monotonous voice doing little to praise the successful operation that the three of you had completed. “Makarov will not take this well.”

“He’s a big boy,” you respond with an amused grin. “He can handle it.”

“Don’t underestimate the rage of the Russian’s” Nikolai chuckles back in response, looking back at you momentarily to ensure all three of you weren’t seriously injured.

“Speakin’ from experience, Nikolai?” You smirk back, walking over towards the front of the heli where both Ghost and Soap stand, your sniper left discarded on the metal floor of the military carrier.

“Firsthand” Nikolai simply snorts back.

The rest of the ride back is silent, Ghost and Soap sat beside each other, a singular empty seat distancing their proximity. You? You sit across from them, alone on the empty bench. 

You don’t mean to let your guard down. You were simply exhausted and finally allowing yourself to stare aimlessly into space as the adrenaline in your system slowly drained from your veins.

“Don’t.”

The harsh voice has you crashing back to reality, eyes focusing in place to meet dark hazel ones, narrowed and directed at you. You hadn’t realised you were staring at Ghost while you silently decompressed. It was a rude startle from your meaningless thoughts.

“Sorry, I zoned out. My eyes were just comfortable” you respond awkwardly, adjusting your seating position and clearing your throat. “Didn’t realise I was staring”

Ghost simply glares back at you, his usual cold and emotionless stare making your hands clammy and stomach flutter. You quickly avert your gaze, turning your head away to stare at the metal tread plate flooring, instead focusing on the loud hum of the aircraft you were all seated in.

It suddenly grew too hot, too cramped in the helicopter. It was claustrophobic - suffocating almost.

You’re the first to scramble off the heli, exhaling in relief when you’re no longer boxed into the hunk of metal you had just spent the last hour travelling in. With your sniper draped loosely over your shoulder, you make your way inside the small safe house nestled on the outskirts of Verdansk. You don’t bother to wait for Soap and Ghost.

It’s late at night. Your body is near spent. Your only goal in mind was getting the heavy military gear off your body to finally allow yourself the comfort you crave. 

It’s a small shack, only the bare minimum provided. An old, tattered couch and rickety square dining table with four chairs on each side, each varying in design and wood finishes. They evidently didn’t come as a set. There is a small room off to the side, various camping cots packed and stacked against the furthest wall, at our disposal for when we choose to retire for the night.

Ghost, Soap and Nikolai soon enter after you, Nikolai retreating into the small room to set up the cots and get some much needed rest.

You keep to yourself while Soap settles on the small couch, Ghost taking a seat at the dining table to clean and check over his equipment. 

You hastily peel the stiff fabric from your body, vest and outerwear folded on the floor in the corner of the living room, your sniper. Resting atop of them. Your aching body can finally breathe now that the extra layers were finally discarded

“Ye did good today” Soap finally speaks up after a beat of tense silence. You turn to him in slight surprise, not expecting him to initiate any sort of conversation with you. “We’d have been fucked without ye” he continues, Scottish accent thick as ever.

You can’t help the small smile that creeps on to your face.

“You guys did the dirty work. I simply scoped the area from above” you assure modestly, not wanting to come across arrogant.

“Aye. Saved our asses several times. We owe you.”

Ghost simply scoffs quietly, standing to move outside where there would be less chatter. He was tired and didn’t want to indulge. 

Your smile is wiped from your lips, replaced by a slight frown at Ghost’s exit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the Scot.

“He’s a crabbit old man. Pay him no mind” Soap assures you, voice low and seemingly unaffected by the Lieutenant’s departure. “The lad’s not one for meaningless blether.”

You nod, evidently disappointed

Soap observes you silently, taking in your defeated expression, a low hum of acknowledgment absentmindedly leaving his tight lips.

"Ye like the Lieutenant" he voices aloud. There was no room for argument in his statement.

Your head darts to Soap in stunned horror, mouth parted in shock. You're unable to respond, Soap speaking up before you're able to form your words.

"Keen een."

You immediately shut your mouth. There was no point in arguing. He knew.

Soap chuckles, a bitter and amused sound that leaves you feeling uneasy.

"Foolhardy choice"

You watch as Soap leaves to the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts and anxieties. You don't get much sleep that night.

Returning to the 141 base was a relief in itself.

Touching down on British soil allowed you to finally relax. You were finally familiar with your surroundings once again.

You sigh happily upon entering your private quarters, throwing your bag carelessly to the ground. A shower was in order. You waste no time in stripping down bare to prepare yourself for the best shower of your life.

When you emerge from the shower, hair still damp and leaving small patches of dampness along the fabric of your fresh shirt you immediately make your way to the rec room. Some caffeine was in order if you were going to set your sleep schedule back to its usual.

You inhale sharply when you see Ghost sat alone, immediately on edge.

He turns his attention to you momentarily before wordlessly resuming back to the reports in his hands.

Message received.

You quietly walk over to the coffee machine, pulling out a mug as you put the kettle on.

You keep your eyes trained on anything but Ghost, not wanting to anger him again. You can't help but lose yourself in your thoughts once again as you wait for the water to finish boiling.

It wasn't anything more than a physical attraction that you had towards the aloof man. You didn't know the slightest thing about him. You did know however, that he was loyal. Just from your observations alone - it was obvious just how passionate he was about the 141. He would lay his life down without a second thought to ensure a mission was successful, to ensure his teammates were safe.

All of his teammates, save for you.

He was a machine during training, a monster on the field. Rippling muscle and deadly speed, accuracy that rivals even Captain Price himself.

So many times you've caught yourself staring, admiring from the peripherals of your vision with your lip caught between your teeth. You felt like a lovesick teen in high school. It was absolutely infuriating.

"It won't make itself"

You jolt in alarm, head whipping towards the voice. Ghost simply stares at you, eyebrow raised. His skull mask was replaced by his usual black balaclava he wore around base, the prominent shape of his brow bones underneath the knit fabric the only giveaway of his expression. His thick thighs are spread lazily in front of him, large feet planted on the floor as he leans back against the dark leather couch, papers still in hand.

You quickly tear your eyes away from him once again.

"I know." You internally grimace at your response. Stupid. So stupid.

Ghost chuckles, still eyeing you as you stare dumbly down at the now finished boiling kettle and empty mug.

"You're an open book" he speaks up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval, lowering his eyes back down to his reports. "You need to keep your head in the game, sergeant. This is a war, not a dating reality."

You glimpse over at him from the corner of your eye, fighting down the heat that tries to spread across your face.

"I'm well aware of that" you respond sternly, hastily making your coffee.

Fucking. Soap.

"Start acting like it, soldier"

You swiftly leave, coffee rushed and head lowered in shame. You didn't bother drinking the sloppy coffee, instead tipping it down the bathroom sink and watching as it swirls down the drain.

Makarov was defeated - the 141 finally accomplishing what they had chased like hell hounds for months - finally at its end.

Ghost stares down at your lifeless eyes.

What should have been Soap’s life was instead replaced with your own.

It was a selfless act of bravery.

No one was fast enough to respond. One minute you were here, yelling out to Soap in alarm, the next you were motionless. An instant death after Makarov lodged his final bullet in your skull.

Ghost knows that he should feel something - anything for the life lost. His teammate stolen from life too soon, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Price places a large hand on Ghost's shoulder, pulling him away from the scene.

The Taskforce retreats. They would send reinforcements to retrieve your body, to be able to send something back to your loved ones waiting anxiously on your return.

It was a shame really. The potential you had was evident, destined to continue fighting for your country alongside Ghost, Price and Gaz.

Ghost turns on his heel, following after his comrades and boarding the heli, your empty seat bringing a deep sense of impending doom, the reality finally setting in for the four men.

Ghost scoffs, shaking his head.

Three was always a crowd

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

-

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

-

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

[icyg4l]

PAC: How Does Your Higher Self Define Womanhood?

Hello, beautiful people. Today marks the last post of the Women’s History Month series & one of two posts made today! I am excited to continue to create content for you guys. And I am even more grateful for the support I have received as of lately. Because of this, I will continue to post creative tarot readings. So, without further ado, please pick your pile.

Left-to-Right: (1-4)

Pile 1: Pile One, your story reminds me of the Miss Congeniality plot. Basically, Sandra Bullock plays a detective that goes undercover as a beauty pageant contestant. At first, she rejects the ideas of what it means to be a “girly girl” but eventually conforms to the standards. She viewed femininity as a sign of weakness and did not like being around other women because she felt that she had to prove herself to be tough. But she gained respect for the girls who worked in these pageants as she worked undercover because she began to acknowledge the hard work it takes to be in the pageants. By the end, she is closer to her womanhood. You have a similar story. I doubt that you’re a detective reading this but I feel as though you may have the tendency to thoroughly investigate any piece of information. To your higher self, womanhood means constantly being on the search for answers to placate the inner child wounds that lie within you. I feel like when you were younger, you may have been an outcast or a tomboy, maybe both. Because of this, you have set a lifelong quest to figure out what being a woman means to you whether it is intentional or not. Your higher self wants you to know that being a woman comes with all types of trauma, but remembering that you do not have to face it alone. You do not have to carry the burdens alone. You see, women are conditioned to be demure for the sake of keeping the peace but that’s not what works for you. Embrace the messy parts of yourself because if you don’t, life will get boring. Part of your mission is being aware of your multifaceted nature; reject conformity, embrace the abnormal, babe.

Cards Used: The Sun, 4 of Cups, 4 of Swords, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, The Magician, 5 of Cups, 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords.

Signs: Aquarius, Libra, Leo, Sagittarius.

extras: money getter. cash grabs. “low hanging fruit.” airhead. wallpaper. phineas and ferb. “sharon.” beetles. s.o.s. by rihanna. “tinge of an accent.” sweet. mirrors. coconut trees. hawaii. stubborn. radioactive.

Pile 2: Pile Two, there is a similar vibe that you have to Pile One, except I don’t think that you have problems with accepting your femininity. I think that you have problems with how masculines function in society. I am sensing a Lori Harvey type of energy here. This is likely related to the way that you operate when it comes to love. People tend to want to possess you so that they can show you off like a trophy. But your higher self wants you to know the difference between users and the genuine thing. I feel like you’ve developed this flighty persona to protect yourself from harm. While experiencing the many tribulations of womanhood, you have adopted the “flights over feelings” type of mindset. How has that been working out for you? No, really. Is it actually working or have you convinced yourself that it has. As a woman, your higher self thinks that womanhood is finding love in a loveless world. This isn’t necessarily about romance, but it’s just a mindset that you should adopt. It will save you from falling victim to the cycles of toxicity that plague society. It’s a cold world out here, babe but it doesn’t mean that you have to be as cold as the world. Part of your mission is forgiving yourself and those who hurt you so that you can see the beauty in the world. With this newfound sight of beauty, there comes true inner power.

Cards Used: The Devil, 7 of Discs (RX), 8 of Wands, The Hierophant, 3 of Swords, 3 of Cups, 10 of Discs, The Star, 10 of Cups (RX).

Signs: Capricorn, Cancer, Scorpio, Virgo.

extras: two can play that game. all about love by bell hooks. renegade. open arms. country music lover. tony montana. archer (2009). “logan.” phoenix rising. “marcus.” ashy. corny. cerebellum. stupendous.

Pile 3: Pile Three, your higher self defines womanhood as something that is both sweet and sour. It is something that she takes for granted but it is also something that she takes pride in. It’s a strength but also a weakness. I feel like I am talking to someone who has an ingenue/youthful spirit. I channeled the character Darla from The Little Rascals but I also channeled Charlotte from Princess and the Frog. You seem to be very in tune with your inner child and there is nothing wrong with that. Your inner child is heavily protected by the teenaged version of yourself, which seems very angry. These different versions of yourself often clash with one another, which can lead to bouts of depression and confusion. Your higher self is a woman who pours into herself through movement and self-expression. You need to channel these negative energies into creativity or else you will be stifled by your own thoughts. You honestly need to get out of your head. Your higher self feels as though there is a flip side to every coin that you get. For example, if you are having period pains, it may hurt but at least you’re not pregnant! Looking on the brighter side of life is how you can be closer to your higher self.

Cards Used: 5 of Swords, 6 of Swords, Page of Swords, Justice, 4 of Cups, Ace of Cups, Ace of Discs, 5 of Wands, The Hanged Man.

Signs: Leo, Pisces, Aries, Gemini.

extras: janet jackson. “i’m da man.” we will rock you. parties. diva. elle magazine. shapely. “how’d you figure?” honest answers only. maya angelou. glorilla. lola bunny. fatigue. body aches. deodorant. small bowls. annual. prayers. mark on the cheek. boot camp. “your highness.” shredded cheese. livelihood.

Pile 4: And last but not least, Pile Four. I feel like you are well sought after in the most lusty way possible. This has its perks, but lately, you feel like it has more cons than anything. I feel like you’re someone who always seems to feel isolated because of this. As a result, your higher self views womanhood as foreign. The amount of power that you hold as a woman is beyond explanation. There are so many ways that you can present yourself, Pile Four. I don’t think you have realized your true potential. Yes, you have gone through trauma because people assumed that you could handle the weight of the world but this means nothing to your spirit. Wake up! Don’t you realize how unique you are? Pile Four, womanhood can really only be defined by you, not by anyone else. The prioritization of yourself will help you make a name for yourself. You could be in your 20s, tired and just wanting a change. Well, your higher self wants you to know that change will come once you begin to change the narrative yourself. If you believe something about yourself that was told to you by someone else, then it means that you’re easily moldable. Being a woman means rising to the top even through the facings of opposition. You are a fighter. So the question is: when are you going to jump in the ring and fight for your sense of self, Pile Four.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups, Queen of Wands, 3 of Discs, Knight of Discs, Ten of Swords, 4 of Discs, The Hermit, Queen of Swords, 9 of Discs.

Signs: Gemini, Pisces, Cancer, Virgo.

extras: “tart.” “fresh out the shower.” burgundy. melons. net worth. SWer. dollar bills. illegal documents. molly. friendless. stoned. be your own boss. cake baker. sister, sister. wiseman. silly goose. fall. saturn.

[neos127]

love is hard for park sunghoon (or is it?) — psh

office employee!sunghoon x fem!reader; genre. dating for convenience to real love, fluff notes. small drabble based on the manga ‘love is hard for otaku’ bc sunghoon gives nifuji vibes in these glasses!

otaku — is a japanese word that describes people with consuming interests, particularly in anime, manga, video games, or computers

sunghoon was positive that he was unlovable. he was a video game otaku who slaved away at his nine to five job and had rarely felt the touch of a woman. that was until you came along, like a bright ray of sunshine moving into his cloudy life. you were very different from him, loud and obnoxious at times with a very outgoing personality. sunghoon claimed that you weren’t his type, but the lie was long forgotten when he looked at your beaming smile and bright eyes.

for some reason that sunghoon couldn’t comprehend, you were interested in him. you talked to him first and were the reason behind the man becoming a flustered mess. sunghoon tried to tell you that being interested in him was a bad idea, his relationships never worked out because of his workaholic attitude and obsession with his handheld gaming device.

“you too? my past boyfriends never understood my obsession with mangas and idols. but it seems like you would!” you said, your voice twinged with excitement. after that you had basically proposed the idea of dating for convenience and oddly, sunghoon agreed. maybe it was because he was just lonely and severely touched starved— or maybe it was because your stunning smile made sunghoon’s heart skip a beat or two. he supposed if the two of you were dating for convenience, it wouldn’t be crazy to actually fall for one and other…right? he was your ‘boyfriend’ after all, it only made sense.

sunghoon couldn’t help himself. you were so understanding and you could relate to his lifestyle unlike people he dated in the past. you also never left sunghoon alone, even when he was furiously smashing the buttons on the controller of his gaming console. you would casually sit behind the man, legs thrown over his as you read your manga.

“you comfy back there?” sunghoon spoke up, readjusting his glasses and clearing his throat. he hoped that you couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating or the way his body had become hotter under your touch.

“yeah i’m good.” you mumbled, a slight smile on your lips as you nuzzled the side of your face into his back. your eyes never left your manga and sunghoon could tell that you were highly invested.

“did you need anything?” you asked, surprised that sunghoon even spoke. whenever he played his game, he went silent. the only sounds that emitted from his mouth were annoyed grunts and a slew of curses.

sunghoon sighed and turned off his game, detaching himself from you to put his controller away. you whined at the loss of contact which soon turned into a gasp when sunghoon practically pounced on top of you. he took the manga from you, the book seeming so tiny in his large hands when he snapped it shut.

“m’sorry i’ve been neglecting you.” sunghoon mumbled, his glasses slowly sliding down his face. you pushed them up with your finger, smiling at the way they slid down his nose again.

“you don’t have to apologize. we decided to date because we understand how each other operates, is that not correct?” you asked, surprised that sunghoon decided to apologize. you felt it was unnecessary, you were just happy that he allowed you to be in his presence.

“but i want to. you’re…different from other girls I’ve been with…in a good way of course. and for some reason, that makes me actually want to give you my attention.” sunghoon explained, the delivery of his words sounding extremely awkward. you giggled, finding it amusing how inexperienced he was when it came to relationships, but you appreciated his honesty anyway.

“if that’s your way of saying that you’re attracted to me— then I feel the same.” you said, reaching up to mess with sunghoon’s hair. he caught your hand mid air, bringing it back down to his lap before playing with your fingers.

“yeah um, i am positive that i’ve fallen for you. i know we only dated for convenience but, i really do like being in a relationship with you.” sunghoon confessed, avoiding eye contact with you. using your free hand, you grabbed his chin, turning the man’s face to look at yours.

“i really like being in a relationship with you too, hoon.” you replied, a small smile on your face. sunghoon was sure he would’ve combusted on the spot due to the way your nickname for him rolled so easily off your tongue. the man had never felt such emotions before and he was surprised by how much of a hold you had on him. he was sure that he would get down on his knees and beg for you— if you wanted him to jump, he would ask ‘how high?’.

sunghoon smiled, an actual real smile where you could see his adorable fangs. you hadn’t seen much of the expression before, but at that moment you concluded that it was your favorite thing in the world.

“can i kiss you, sunghoon?” you asked timidly, watching as the man’s eyes widened behind the frames of his glasses.

“yeah…yeah of course you can.” he answered, his heartbeat picking up the pace by a tenfold. you smiled at his nervousness, leaning over to place a hesitant kiss on his lips. before you could pull away, sunghoon grabbed the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss and forced you to open your mouth a bit more. you let out a low whine, the sound going straight to sunghoon’s gut. he shivered against your body, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

“what are you doing to me?” sunghoon groaned once he pulled away, moving his face to hide in your neck. you chuckled and patted the top of his head.

“it’s just my charm. only a select few can see it so, congratulations! you’re special!” you explained, playfully tapping the man on his nose. he scrunched it up cutely, letting out a small chuckle at your enthusiasm.

“yeah, lucky me.” sunghoon mumbled, his voice monotone as ever. to most people, it may have sounded sarcastic and as if he didn’t actually mean it. but sunghoon’s lovesick eyes said otherwise…and you knew sunghoon better than most people.

©neos127

[teaboot]

True facts about my home town that I think about sometimes:

Nobody knows how big it is or what the borders are. There is some general consensus on what buildings are inside the town and which buildings are outside the town, as well as which buildings are definitely a different town entirely, but there is no clear "You are now in" or "You are now leaving" type locations you can point to on a map.

Tangentially, there are people one or two towns over, less than a 45 minute drive away, who will regularly ask "where is that?" Or, "I've never heard of that place" when you mention the town by name.

There are so few people that it is technically classified as a Village.

For many years, our only gas station did not sell gas. Once it began selling gas, I remember that they had to patch up the giant hole in a nearby billboard and use it to declare, "We Have Gas!", which was hilarious.

The whole place is mostly just woods.

There is some disagreement among locals as to whether or not there are wolves in the area. That being said, I have absolutely seen wolves in the area.

There is a public transit system that passes through. That said, it only stops by three times a day, and there are no set stops, so you kind of just have to pick a spot on the side of the road and hope for the best. If you are already on board and want off, you have to ring the bell and tell the bus driver where to pull over, which they may or may not do depending on the driver, the weather, traffic conditions, and general vibes.

I had three neighbors and I didn't even see any of them until about fifteen years in. One property across the road was a farm where I never saw anyone outside, but cars and equipment would move places throughout the day.

There is a post office. The woman who operates it is generally regarded as either incompetent or genuinely malicious, as she will often send mail back where it came from  with the justification that she doesn't believe your address is real.

The nearest actual city, with schools and a library and a hospital, famously has absolute dog shit cell service to the point that it is locally famous for it.

My childhood home specifically had a reputation for being a bad traffic spot despite being along a strip of straight road with no turns, and we regularly had to patch up holes in the fence from cars going through it. Most notable was one crash that woke me up as a child on Christmas morning, which I received a lovely thank-you card for noticing after I fetched my parents to assist.

Another time when I was a kid I went outside to find a car with the rear wheels in the air, nose-first in a ditch. I was home alone, so I went inside to call 911 on the landline, where I was immediately put on hold.

Someone stole our church and kept it for several years before inexplicably bringing it back and leaving it behind town hall. Just lifted it off the foundation and trucked it away.

The whole place is just around 100 years old and if you go into the woods you can still find hundreds of humongous tree stumps with foot holds carved into them from when the first white people came in and started settling down.

Apparently an entire family was axe murdered here in like the 80's and nobody talks about it

[honeyspawn]

Real talk, I think Frank Pricely is a genuinely really interesting character.

So when we meet him in Black Friday, he is basically a cartoon capitalist supervillain. He's obsessing over money, he is condescending to Lex, and we get the impression that he's Mr. Krabs level of money-grubbing shitty boss. He gets a whole song where he revels in how much money he's going to make, and shows ambivalence to how dangerous black friday shopping can be. Then Feast or Famine happens, and something... changes. There's a visible shift on stage when he and the audience realize that he is no longer in control that's genuinely really eerie. Put a pin in that, cuz I'm gonna come back to it.

When when we're introduced to him in "Daddy", we get a much more complete image of who he is as a character. It's not that he's not a greedy and condescending person, because he definitely is, but that's not the foundation of his character. When we see Toy Zone outside of Black Friday, we see that it's a struggling small business, and a genuine passion project for Frank. It's not that Toy Zone is a means for financial success, but financial success is a means to keep Toy Zone operational.

Then there's his relationship with Lex. He's definitely snarky and condescending, but he also actually cares about her, and sees himself as a parental figure to her. He gives her advice that he feels is in her best interest, and shows her a lot of the "tough love" that he thinks Sheila should be showing Sherman. Lex is even one of the people he says sorry too when he's about to die, because he worries that he failed her. While I do think Lex has some level of respect for him, I never really get the vibe that she sees him this way; she seems to think of him as more of a hard ass, and she would absolutely leave Toy Zone the minute a better opportunity comes up. Her job at Toy Zone for her is more about her need to take care of her family. And this is significant, because Frank is a very lonely person. After his dog Buddy dies, he has no family left. He reminisces on his parents, who didn't support his passions. He thinks of himself as a father figure to Lex, because he has nobody else left in his life. I'm not necessarily saying that he's a good parental figure to Lex, he can be pretty selfish, and even denied her for a raise once he could afford it, knowing she damn well needs the money. It's clear though, that he's trying to look out for her more than her actual mother (low bar as it may be), and on some level, he does think he's helping her. Because she's all he has. Her and Toy Zone, and he's about to lose that too.

This is why Sheila is so appealing to him. She represents not only financial stability, but a chance to not be alone. He doesn't love her, and I think he knows it, but he could learn to love her. He could have love and money, and if that doesn't work out, at least he'd have money. That's what he thinks anyway. But again, he's not the one with the power.

When we first see him in Black Friday, we initially think Frank represents the corporations, but he doesn't. He's a small business owner, and can only support his passion by participating in capitalism. He is a retailer, not a CEO. And that's what puts him in so much danger in Black Friday. Capitalism treats him as disposable. And that's how he dies. Frank was just as much under Wiggly's influence as anyone else. He lived a lonely life, and the business he's prioritized over forming any lasting bonds with other people is about to go down the toilet. Then this little green doll comes along that's supposed to fix everything. He doesn't want to keep the Wiggly dolls, but he still thinks they're going to fix the holes. And once he's served his purpose, Wiggly disposes of him. And that's what Sheila tries to do, too. The only reason he survives in Daddy is that Sherman decides he still has value. It's honestly really haunting how these stories mirror each other.

[ichayalovesyou]

Why Do Old-School TV Duos Have SUCH MLM Vibes?!

I think there’s something very specific about the formula and writing style of non-serialized/semi-serialized shows from the 60s to 80s that featured two grown men going on wacky dangerous adventures that makes my gay little literary analysis brain go absolutely off the wall bonkers. I’m trying to figure out why!

I’m writing this on my Trek blog because I don’t think this pattern in people actually shipping these types of relationships the way they do if fandom as we know it wasn’t born via TOS in syndication. That being said! I also think it has to do with the way these shows are designed that makes myself and others OBSESSED with a specific character dynamic that feels (to me) damn near impossible to replicate in modern television. In a way that’s more than just fandom, it’s in the way TV like this was written at the time!

Further explanation under the cut!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

I think what it usually boils down to is this. There’s a charming protagonist whom without the series could not operate, frequently top billed or the title character! (See: Wild Wild West, Starsky & Hutch) BUT he doesn’t have anyone to play off of! So what do they do pretty much every single time? Give Mr. Idealized Vision of Time-Period Masculinity For Genre a second guy to rhyme with!

See but the other guy has to play opposite but parallel to our hypermasculine protagonist. So what frequently ends up happening is that in order to play off our “normal” guy, even though he’s also a white dude, is that he’s still somehow Other.

They’re always perfect for each other, and they always get into scenarios that would be written, shot and interpreted by conventional audiences as romantic IF either one of those characters were a woman! Especially at the time these shows were made in.

If the one is aggressive, the other is gentle. If the protagonist is violent, his counterpart is intellectual. If the one is stoic, the other is emotional. Which (while one size def doesn’t fit all) usually makes the second guy come off as much more queer-coded (and sometimes other minorities like neurodivergent/disabled etc) than the other because of the traits associated with masculinity vs gayness at the time! Our prime examples in these gifs are Spock, Hutch, Artemus, and also *BJ!

*(M*A*S*H is a bit of a unique case since the show flirts with queerness more openly in ways that people more into the series have explained better than me but I think it still fits the formula I’m discussing.)

Here’s the thing though right? We’ve got two best friends, and the show NEVER really feels right if one of them is missing unless the focus of the story is how A & B operate without each other while trying to find the other one. They stick with and rescue each other unfailingly in scenarios that might destroy a regular friendship.

Hell, there’s often stuff that would emotionally/physically destroy a regular person/character in modern media. But because it’s not serialized they always seem to pull through seemingly through the power of friendship alone or dealing with it off-screen! Emotional consequences? Yuck! (Unless it’s M*A*S*H or Starsky & Hutch, like I said, not monolithic)

Here’s the thing that some people might say throws a wrench into the interpretation I’m discussing. What about the absolutely non-stop parade of conventionally attractive women the main protagonist (and less frequently the supporting man) goes through?

I would reply: how many of those female characters actually emotionally impact our protagonists as characters long term?

The answer is of course, because it’s NOT serialized, almost none! Kirk can watch Edith Keeler get killed by a car accident and still be making eyes at Spock the next episode. Hawkeye can have a “life changing” romance with a Vietnamese humanitarian woman, then share a blanket with BJ next episode like she never existed!

The Doylist explanation of course is not just the fact it wasn’t serialized but also just, constant, blatant 20th century sexism. Which SUCKS!!! As well as not wanting a long term love interest to throw off the character dynamic of our duderagonists. It’s the 20th century tv equivalent of bros before hoes.

However the Watsonian explanation always seems to result in no love interest EVER being more important than what the two protagonists have no matter whether you think they’re queer or not. No attractive woman could make our reputed babe-hound protagonist abandon his buddy. There’s no earnest romance our more queer-coded supporting man doesn’t end (or get ended for him) often for the protagonist’s sake.

Now some of these women are incredibly well written and straight up GOOD matches for our guys. So why wouldn’t they get involved in something long term UNLESS!! They were in love with each other the WHOLE time?

What if protagonist (frequently the babe hound) doesnt know he’s queer, or knows but doesn’t know he’s in love with his bestie, or any number of similar fruity explanations? The supporting man also runs into this explanation but people tend to believe he’s already aware that he’s queer but either also doesn’t know he’s in love or is keeping it to himself because time-period homophobia and/or thinking (probably not unreasonably) that babe hound is straight?

Between the inherent closeness of being narrative foils. The regularly scheduled life or death drama creating sometimes insanely romantic (in the narrative if not a literal sense) drama between the two. The revolving door of weekly women they never seem to get attached to enough to leave one another. The non-serialized nature resulting in sparse personal information/history about the protagonists as a result.

I think between the very NATURE of the way tv shows were written at the time. Plus the way fandom was shaped by a dynamic that has rippled through how media works and is interpreted by fans for decades upon decades. It’s not hard to imagine getting really emotionally invested in the possibility of the protagonists being in love is a fantastic way to enjoy the media!

In conclusion, it’s really fun and easy to go “these bitches gay! Good for them good for them!”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I’ve been thinking about ways Killer might’ve been instrumental in furthering Nightmare’s goals of widespread negativity, and I think he probably encouraged Nightmare to engage a lot more with mortals in Universes that aren’t aware of the Multiverse as a whole.

Universes that don’t know either Killer’s or Nightmare’s reputations or faces, but also don’t know anything about the Star Sanses, or Dream or Ink.

Reminding Nightmare that human mortals have their uses, and their souls are often stronger than most of monsterkind, reminding the Boss that cases like himself, Dream, Ink, Error, and even Killer are basically outliers. Not typically considered the norm.

I think Killer probably came up with the idea of creating cells inside those universes, secretly training and manipulating both human and monster agents to serve Nightmare’s goals, regardless if any of them are fully aware of that or not. Targeting any dumb or desperate fool, especially those who have any political power or authority over a certain place like a country or an army.

Encouraging wars, gang wars, revolts, territory spats, and acts of mass terror in these universes that could give Nightmare all the negativity he needs without anyone being all the wiser.

With everyone being too busy pointing guns and fingers at eachother to notice that they’re being used for something bigger. And Killer will keep the guns of war going by discretely turning everyone against their own groups, spreading rumors and propaganda.

Assuming Killer targets people who aren’t exactly important to that universe’s script, he may even be able to evade Ink’s attention for some time.

So while the Star Sanses might think that Nightmare only has himself, Killer, and possibly also Horror, Dust, and Cross/XChara doing his bidding.

He actually secretly has both deals & agreements with certain Multiverse-Aware universes—supply Nightmare and his Gang with resources & they’ll leave you alone—but thanks to Killer’s idea, he also has billions of regular Joes working for him and they aren’t even aware of it.

And, of course, Killer would be the one out recruiting people. And I think that the information about the operative cells would likely stay classified strictly between Nightmare and Killer, even if Horror and Dust are very likely suspicious.

But if any of them try to confront Killer about it he of course plays the fool, acting loud and annoying so all they’ll want by the end of the questioning is for him to just shut up and go away and they’ll completely forget what they were even asking in the first place.

(Not Dust though. Cuz while I get the vibes that Horror and Cross just wouldn’t want to deal with Killer, I think the similarities Dust sees between Killer and the anomaly only prompts Dust to pay closer attention to Killer’s actions and less his words.)

I think Nightmare’s Gang can be pretty cool if the rest of the Multiverse sees them as mostly a group of ragtag criminals causing mayhem and negativity wherever they go, but it’s just a front for a more numbered, highly structured and functioning organization with bigger, long term plans.

You could walk past a member of Nightmare’s organization and you wouldn’t even know it. The member themself may not even be fully aware of what they involved themself in.

[javier-penas-wifexx420]

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

-

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

-

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

-

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.” 

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

-

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

-

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post. 

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

-

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

-

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became. 

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

-

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in. 

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

-

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

-

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest. 

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

-

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

[lace-coffin]

i feel like sending a rq this sappy kinda harshes the vibe of yr delightfully horny slasher headcanon posts but do you have any headcanons about how bubba’s s/o would fit into the sawyer household? like, how The Brothers might react to her bringing someone home or what day-to-day life on the sawyer homestead with bubba would be like?

Thank you for the rq!! I love writing fluff just as much as I do smut so feel free to send me all ur fluff ideas!

No trigger warnings apply!

Requests are open!

Reader is gender neutral and we’re operating on the basis that nubbins is still alive at the same time choptop is back home bc I love the sawyers

How would reader fit into the sawyer household as bubba’s s/o

You and bubba met one day when bubba offered to come help at the gas station, feeling cooped up in the house and not wanting to be alone. Drayton was more than happy to claim you as a victim as soon as he saw you pull up to the gas pump. This changed after your first interaction with bubba.

She was helping restock some shelves whilst Drayton manned the till. Dressed in a loose white sundress as it was easy to move in and won’t make them overheat whilst working.

You came in to pay, offering a polite greeting to Drayton who was putting on his airs and graces to lull you into a false sense of safety. You decided to get a snack, party because you were hungry and party because the run down station looked like it wasn’t receiving much love nor income.

As you browsed the isles your eyes landed on a figure crouched infront of the shelf. Short Soft brown curls tied with a ribbon laid across freckle spattered shoulders. White linen sundress laid gently against his large frame. Arms strong and thick with a fair amount of dark hair. Oh yeah, you were absolutely getting a snack now.

It turns out the snack isle was where the handsome stranger was working, you were going to talk to her regardless but this was a perfect opportunity. You scan over the different snacks available and take your pick. Coughing to get their attention you make yourself known. “I’m so sorry to bother you whilst you’re working but I just need to grab one of these” you point to the item and reach for it. Bubba being the person he is he decides to be kind and get it for you. You both reach for it and your hands bump. you both jolt back in surprise, pausing for a moment before laughing. The moment is sweet and genuine.

You catch sight of bubba’s gold charm bracelet and motion to it. “Your bracelet is so lovely!! Gold is definitely your colour”. Bubba makes a happy noise at this and flaps their hands in joy. Drayton watches the exchange with a soft smile on his face, his soft spot for his little sibling will always be there.

After this pleasant exchange you make sure to stop by the gas station every time you pass by even if you don’t need anything. Bubba isn’t there all the time, only working there on occasion but you still drop by and make comfortable conversation with Drayton. (You often ask about bubba to)

Eventually after bonding over the span of a few weeks and talking about it with Drayton you work up the courage to ask bubba on a date. Needless to say she’s thrilled and excepts immediately. You end up taking him out to a cute American style diner and the rest is history.

How would bubba’s siblings react to them bringing someone home?

Drayton is the least surprised considering he was basically in on it before you even asked his younger sibling out. He’s the one meeting you at the door before dates and giving you the lecture about driving careful and when to have bubba home. He can’t help it, he’s raised them since they were a kid. He’ll deny being protective with everything in his being if you bring it up though. He’ll be happy to finally have you over, cleaning the house top to bottom, he really likes you and wants this to go well for bubba.

Nubbins would be giddy to meet you, having been hyping bubba up before leaving for the gas station. He’s excited to get to meet the person who has his little sibling smitten. You actually might meet him on the road just before getting to the house. He’ll be scavenging for roadkill when you holler out the car and offer him a ride back to the house. Feel free to ask him a few questions about wooing the rest of his family before you get to the door.

Choptop would tease you and bubba, making her groan in annoyance. You take no offence and laugh with him. Chop will be eager to ask you 1000 questions and show you around the house. He’ll drag you straight to his room to see his record collection. Extra points if your alternative! Doesn’t matter what style, he thinks it’s all cool.

Nubbins and chop will definitely tease the two of you, fake gagging when you’re affectionate with each other in front of them. They might act like it’s gross but they’re actually happy for bubba and like his partner, hoping things go well so they can hang out more.

Grandpa isn’t a man of many words but you get on just fine, the conversations are pretty one sided apart from small smiles you see creep onto his face but he’s nice enough and important to your partner. You always make sure he feels included at dinners and family activities.

Grandma is long gone, but I’m sure she’d like you if she was alive 💀

How does reader fit into the house?

You fit in like a glove! It’s like you’ve known them way longer than you have. Drayton may grumble about having another mouth to feed but he really does enjoy your presence. you bring in your own income which is definitely helpful to repair some faults in the house or farming equipment which is very appreciated. You also help lighten his load with the chores, he’s not as young as he used to be and his joints are proving that. If you see him struggling or it’s a particularly bad day for his back then you’ll offer to take up his share of house chores. You spend evenings in the kitchen together washing up after dinner, listening to the radio together.

Nubbins loves to drag you and bubba out of the house to help look for roadkill, if that’s not your thing then he won’t force you but he’d really love it if you did come, using it as a way to bond. He’ll gift bubba bones and pretty trinkets he finds to make jewellery with. Nubbins has a lot of hair, he loves it when you tie it up for him before he goes out so it keeps out of his face in the Texan heat.

Choptop will spend time with you and bubba listening to his records. It’s always fun when you three chill in chops room covered in tapestry’s and mood lighting, the vibe is comfy and calm and complimented by listening to their favourite radio host/station (hi Stretch and LG!)

You often spend most of your day with bubba after he returns from his morning chores, you have more of a choice in your chores. If your good with animals then you’ll be assigned to helping around the farm and with the care of bubbas pet chicken, bond with your feathery friend enough and they’ll eventually start following you across the farm whilst you work. If you’re better with house work then you’ll be helping do more domestic activities whilst Drayton is running the gas station. Sweeping up, doing laundry and dishes, those kind of things. You also might help bubba tend to grandpa, she really appreciates it because it’s not easy carrying grandpa in his wheelchair down two flights of stairs alone. It also means a lot to them since family is everything and he loves his grandpa more than the world it’s self.

After a day of chores you meet back up and go to rinse off, as much as you love seeing her hot and bothered you don’t enjoy being sweaty and exhausted so you help eachother clean off. A few hours after supper it’s time for bed. to start off with Drayton insisted you sleep in separate beds so “no funny business” occurs. Funny business absolutely occurred despite that. You know you were found out when Drayton banged on the ceiling with a broom and yelled for you to “keep it down if you’re gonna be going at it like animals”. The next morning you both sit at the table red faced, nubbins and chop finding it hilarious. After this you moved into a bigger bed together since sleeping apart didn’t really have a point anymore.

You read to them next to the warm light of your bedside table lamp until your eyelids start to get heavy and the words blur together. You snuggle down into his side and let out a sigh of content. With one last sweet peck on the lips you both drift off.

I hope u liked this! Texas chainsaw massacre is actually a special interest of mine so I adored writing this for u!!

[tunamayuuu]

Your thoughts about Margaret? I honestly don’t talk much about her but I’m actually really interested in her

had so much fun drawing ranpo so i decided why not doodle margaret for this ask, andd i had too much fun

thoughts and hcs below the cut

before i caught up with the manga last year, the guild was actually my favorite organization! poe and margaret were my favorites at the time (and now lucy!) especially in the design aspect because both poe and margaret Scream bougie, which was the exact vibe i wish every guild character emanated from their outfits, even if they come from different backgrounds

i don't have a lot of definitive thoughts on her because realisitcally, we don't know much about her

she does appear arrogant and dramatic yes, we've seen her dedication in salvaging the reputation of her family and how that affects how she treats her co-workers (like when she continuously protected hawthorne during his fight with akutagawa) but other than that? i don't have much i can say

i know the guild characters are stuck in the shelf, but if ever we get to explore them again even just as a side story, i'd love to see how she became a guild member, especially her partnership with hawthorne because clearly they've been partnered enough times that she's willing to take the role of defense for hawthorne to the extent that she was sent to a comatose from an extremely fatal attack

like?? even if you don't see her as much during the fight, the times we did see her, she was defending for his sake, not attacking alongside him or even battling without his cooperation like you'd expect from the arrogant woman, i'd love to learn more about how they've come to this type of battle dynamic as a duo

ALSO ALSO

CAN WE TALK ABT HOW HER LIKE IS "ANOTHER DAY" AND DISLIKES ARE "WAR, BETRAYAL"? like i know these info pages are just trivial but i need to know if this is closely related to why she operates the way she does

hcs:

enjoys window shopping or going into boutiques just to admire the clothes she can find! she definitely has an eye for fashion but i don't think she'd put money on herself more than her own family, so she resorts to admiring and dreaming instead

has trouble being alone for long periods of time

has a noticeable accent (sorry her EN dub voice captivated me)