#he doesn’t chase money y’all the money chases him

[sylvies-chen]

the wesper deleted scene reminded me of how I will never not laugh at the fact that wylan van eck was born into a wealthy family who neglected him and mocked him severely until he was forced to live on the streets as a pauper and then the first person wylan truly falls in love with just so happens to be a sharpshooting money-loving gambler who’s part of an extremely exclusive criminal enterprise with a leader dedicated to making as much coin as possible like WHAT KIND OF WEALTH AND PROSPERITY LUCKY CHARM DOES THIS GUY HAVE LMAOO

[0mg-bird]

A Tornado Warning~ T. Owens x Fem! Reader

Summary: Domestic life with you isn’t something Tyler could ever get tired of when you’re practically his twin flame.

Warnings: Language, storms, smut 18+

A/n: Inspired by the Turnpike song above. Read as a part 2 to Sunrise.

Laid back in two cheap lawn chairs, both you and Lilly sit in bikinis and jean cut offs, tanning under the Arkansas sun. Sunglasses on, beers in hand, a small radio on the ground next to your feet, the afternoon was coming on just fine.

Inside, Dani is tinkering with something that makes her cuss every ten minutes. You tried to drag her out for some good ol’ sunny D but she fought you on it.

Bringing a cold Coors to your lips, you finish the last few drinks of it and crush the can, tossing it back into the little red cooler before turning the music up.

When the idea was originally brought up that the sum of you should just buy a house and make it the permanent wrangler camp, it was a big uncertainty. Then you came across the charming farm house and all of you were sold.

The barn was the designated research and tinker area, the camper trailer parked in the driveway was where Dexter stayed when he wasn’t home with his family. Other than that, Dani and Lilly shared the large downstairs room, Boone- who would sleep anywhere- finally has his own room upstairs. Tyler and you slept in the upstairs master room at the end of the hall, and to say the least, you were happy it wasn’t a crappy motel.

You still chased, but it wasn’t life on the road anymore. It was a real career now, not just a hobby job. Your crew was a main source of information to local tech businesses that develop advanced warning signals and bunkers. You raise money for cities hit, get hands on when you can.

The viewers love the vlogs.

You settled into the life well.

The rumble of an all too familiar truck doesn’t even make you open your eyes, not until your sunlight is blocked by the form of your boyfriend.

“What are y’all doin’?” Tyler asks with humor in his voice.

You and Lilly pull your sunglasses down to look at both him and Boone who had just gotten back from town.

“Trying to tan before your big head blocked our UV rays.” You answer smartly.

“Why are y’all oily?” Boone asks, swiping his finger down Lilly’s arm, making her smack him.

“It’s tanning oil.” She scoffs.

Boone wipes the grease on his shirt that says ‘Science Is Fun’. “You sit out here and fry like bacon for fun?” He asks.

“Boone, baby, anyone ever tell yuh it’s a good thing you’re pretty?” You ask, confusing him slightly.

“Whatever.” He shrugs and snags the last beer from the cooler.

That leaves Ty.

He wears a stupid smile at the bikini tied around you. It was apart of the new merch line, which meant it had his face printed all over it.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You laugh, leaning your head back, missing the way Tyler pulls his phone out and does just that.

“What’s for supper?” He asks as you wipe sweat from your forehead.

“I don’t know, what’re you cookin’, good lookin’?” You ask, taking your glasses off and checking the time. You’ve been at it for about two and a half hours, it might be time to call it a day.

Tyler hums. “Cowboy chili?”

You frown.

“Burgers?”

You grin. “Great idea.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Go wash up and I’ll get it started.”

You stand, kissing him gently quickly. “You’re perfect. Keep acting like this and I might just marry you.” You tease with a wink.

He leans closer, briefly sniffing you. “You smell like coconuts and Coors Banquets.” He states with a smirk.

“I smell like your dream girl.” You state back, poking his chest before you collapse your chair and grab the speaker while Lilly grabs the cooler.

In the shower, washing oils from your skin and lathering your hair, you have a slight tingle in your gut. When you shut the water off and wrap a towel around you, you go to the window and open it up.

Out in the distance, big thunder heads are forming. You grin like a kid on Christmas and smell the air. It’s damp and tangy, rain should be falling in the next hour or so.

Walking into the connected bedroom, you dress in some shorts and one of Tyler’s college tees. It’s when you comb your hair that you look at the framed photos on the wall of the two of you. Rocky, the dog that is still alive and well, pushes open the cracked door and comes to hop on the bed.

“Did Ty kick you outa the kitchen, buddy?” You pout and scratch his head.

He too pouts and rolls over for you to rub his belly.

“Don’t worry kid, a storms coming, ain’t you excited?” You ask, obviously getting no response.

Trotting down the stairs, your phone buzzes in your hand with the first sever thunderstorm warning.

The weather report is on the living room tv where Boone and Dani sit. You sit on the arm of the chair where Boone is.

“Whatcha’ think about it, Tex?” Dani asks you.

You look at the patterns on the screen. “I’m thinkin’ we’ll get some high winds, maybe a barely registered EF1 at most, but the way the wind is shifting, I think it’ll hit back county roads and dissipate within ten minutes.”

Boone agrees with you. “I say we sit back and enjoy this one.”

“I’m with you there, buddy.” You smile, ruffling his hair before getting up.

You head into the kitchen where Tyler is seasoning the burger patties at the island counter. Your hand runs over his back as you pass behind him to assemble the rest of the things needed for a meal.

“Storm’s rollin’ in.” You say with a smile.

“That explains your good mood.” He chuckles, tossing a towel onto his shoulder.

You lay out burger buns and condiments. “I couldn’t ask for better weather, you know that.” You lightly giggle, opening up the pickle jar and eating one.

Tyler watches you with a look of affection, then kisses the top of your head. “Some might say you’re insane, darlin’.”

You finish up your original task. “Only partially.” You say, going to meet him at the grill on the covered deck outside.

He begins to cook up the burgers while you lean against the banister and look out at the cloud covered sky. A light rain is falling now, getting caught in your hair as it blows in.

Most would be inside to keep dry.

Not Tyler’s girl. No, he knows you’d stand in the flat plains and wait for the lighting to come down.

As he flips the patties, you come lean against his back, your cheek against the fabric of his button down as you take in the scent of him.

“You happy?” You ask, making him reach down and hold one of your hands.

“Like this? Yeah…” He says with a smirk. “But what would make me even happier…”

He guides your hand down past his buckle, and you scoff and pull away, slapping his shoulder as he laughs.

“You pig.” You shake your head. “I meant are you happy with life and how you’re living it.”

Tyler stacks the perfectly grilled burgers back onto the tray. “Of course I’m happy. I’m doing what I love, I have a place of my own and a bed that doesn’t creek. Then, I lay next to you at night and always end up between your legs. Life is great.”

You blush and take the tray from him. “Glad there isn’t anything you’d like to change.” You say, turning for the back door that goes into the kitchen.

“Well, I’d change the fact that the crew sleeps under our roof, but life isn’t fair.” He states, following after you.

“It’s their roof too, you can’t just kick ‘em out. What would Boone do without you tucking him into bed?” You snicker.

“Baby, I’d tell Boone to get lost in a heartbeat if it meant it’d just be you and me, doing it in every single room.” He whispers into your ear, causing you to laugh loudly and shove him back.

“Y’all come eat!” You call out loudly to the cree, then turn back to Tyler. “You behave yourself.”

He pulls the finger you point at him, and tucks you under his arm for a moment.

It’s common for relationships to get slow and boring after being together for a long while. Couples don’t try as hard, the spark isn’t the same.

Tyler can’t imagine that, not when you’re the kerosene to feed the flame. He’s so in love with you, he doesn’t even know a version of life where he doesn’t have the dynamic he has.

Gathered around the wood table, all of you chatter about various things. Lilly frowns as she drips barbecue sauce onto the shirt with your cartoon face on it.

Yet another merch item you designed.

It has the words ‘Tex Knows Her Tornados’ printed on it.

You give Rocky part of your burger and Tyler scolds you, saying you spoil him too much. You just glare and say that Rocky deserves some good food too.

Tyler thinks you’re ridiculous.

Country music is playing in the background as all of you move to the front porch, waiting for the sky to come falling down and watching data streams come in. The house is lit up orange with all the lights on, contrasting against the sky. The rain hits harder now, it’s cold as it blows in, making you curl into Tyler’s side.

“You ain’t gonna go dancing in it?” Boone asks you, camera pointed at your shaking frame.

“Hell naw, I’ll freeze my ass off.” You laugh. “How about you drag your pretty self out there? I’ll record you.”

As you reach for the camera, Boone pulls away and retreats.

Thunder shakes, the pang of the thick rain drops hitting the tin roof is almost its own song.

“Come on, Tex, before you get washed away.” Tyler pulls you back inside with the others.

The crew has a grand time with the music playing loudly and the way you have to yell over the storm. The shadow of you and Tyler two-stepping in the kitchen, moves around the walls like a painting.

You let yourself imagine life further as you follow Tyler’s lead. You’ve been with the crew for so long, would you stay with them forever? Would nights continue to look like this if you and Tyler were married? If you had a kid?

That’s a scary thought.

Marriage and babies.

He looks down at you know when he noticed you stopped giggling. “You tired?” He asks.

You simply nod along, not wanting to yell your thoughts out.

He pulls back, announcing that the two of you were going up to bed. They all shout goodnight and go back to what they were doing before, turning the music down a few notches out of curtesy.

You pass your passed out pup in his bed at the top of the stairs where he likes to guard things. He’s fat and happy, you don’t bother him.

All downstairs sounds are muffled as the bedroom door shuts. Tyler kicks off his boots and watches you pull the covers back on the bed. Shimmying out of your shorts, you fully intend on going to bed.

Tyler doesn’t like that idea.

“Do I dare ask what’s on your pretty mind?” He asks, unbuttoning his shirt and unbuckling his belt.

You sigh. “Just thinking about the next five years.”

He shakes his head in confusion. “Why?” He questions.

You just shrug and slide onto the soft mattress. “Why not?”

Once he’s in his boxers, he joins you. “Don’t think of the next five years when we don’t even know what we’re eating for breakfast come morning.” He smiles. Immediately, his hands are pulling you close, his lips are kissing yours smoothly. He pushes your hair out of your face before moving down to your jaw line and neck.

“What has gotten into you?” You laugh as he rolls you onto your back.

“What? Blame the weather.” He grins as he cages you in.

As he kisses you again, hands pushing your t shirt up, you smirk at the need he’s progressing with.

“The crew is still awake.” You remind.

“The storm’s so loud they won’t even know.” Tyler states, moving to kiss your stomach.

Your hands play with his hair, you lay back and listen to the storm crash over the house as he pulls your underwear off and dives between your thighs.

The subtle anxiety of what life can turn in to is gone now as the warm pleasure washes over you from his mouth perfectly against your core. Your head digs into the pillow, you’re biting your lip at the amount of stimulation coursing through you. You pant out, deciding that you weren’t going to be patient all night.

You drag him back up to you, becoming the needy one now. Your shirt is tossed onto the floor, soon accompanied by his boxers. Anywhere you can touch him, that’s where you do. Fingers gripping into his biceps as he pushes into you, you let out a gasp of relief, matching the one he gives.

“Fuck, this feels good.” You praise, hitching your knees up to lock his hips in, pushing him further into you.

As he completely bottoms out, Tyler lets his head drop onto your chest for a moment while he gathers himself. No matter how many time you two do this, it’s still a crazy good feeling.

He slowly kisses your chest, sucking over the curves of your breasts as he pulls almost all the way out, then sinks back into you swiftly.

Thunder cracks loudly, making you yelp in surprise, then laugh. He looks down at you in humor as he adjusts his pace, making it slow and sweet at first, then moving onto more demanding thrusts that make you moan out loudly. He’s trying to hit as deep as possible, but the way you’re holding him close to you is making it hard to focus.

The way your skin rubs against his makes him feel like he’s on fire.

One hand intertwines with yours and he lays it on the pillow, breathing hard as he thrusts against the walls clenching around him.

You squeeze his hand. “God, I love this.” You say with an open mouth.

He proudly smirks. “Yeah? You love when I fuck you so sweetly?”

You groan out. “I just love when you’re fucking me. Doesn’t matter how…or where.”

“Fuck.” He curses, his dick twitching inside of you. He’s stealing your breath for his own now, you think he might just inhale you if he could, given the way he devours your mouth.

His hips rut against you, the tip of him presses against a sensitive spot inside of you that makes your voice break.

“More.” You beg, letting go of his hand and sitting up.

In an instant, Tyler has you flipped onto your stomach, his hands pulling your ass to him. You look back at him as he slides back into your aching walls, softly whimpering as he hits differently.

He pulls your hair to one shoulder, then leans to kiss the bare skin as he drives into you.

You look to the window, the way rain pours down it.

He’s pulling you back to meet his deep thrusts, his head falls back as he gets lost in the feeling.

“You like it like this?” He asks, making you nod feverishly, voice getting raw from the way he’s drawing moans from you.

“Ty.” You call out, gripping the sheets with a smile as you feel your orgasm building

“Good girl, say my name.” He pants, grip tightening on your hips.

“Tyler.” You breathe, thighs beginning to shake.

He knows your body as well as he knows his own, he knows the way your lower lip quivers and the way you get pulses through you that you’re getting close.

He lets out a whine, a childish grunt when he determines he wants to see your face when you cum.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, barely coherent.

He doesn’t answer with words, just pulls out of you and flips you back over so fast, your head spins. Within a second, he’s already back inside of you where he should be, grasping your thigh as he coaxes you further and further to your finish.

“I need to see you when you cum for me, sweetheart. I need it.” He pants, sucking at your neck, hitting all the spots he knows makes your throat go dry.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” You heave, breathing hard into his hair.

Your toes curl, your hands getting a death grip on his skin. Tyler pulls back to gaze down at you, eyes lit up wide, knowing your orgasm is going to wreck you.

“Come on, cum for me, beautiful. I got you.” He soothes.

One hand on his bicep, the other on his jaw line, you try to ground yourself but the way you’re swept away is out of your control.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” He pants, voice gravely and raw.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the knot in your stomach tight as you finally fall over the edge.

“Ty!” You cry out, the waves of hot arousal finally washing over you.

He strokes your hair out of your face, so close to his own release but guiding you through your own.

You’re coming down with a sob, your bottom lip quivering and your chest heaving as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and fucks you through his own release.

Your head pounds at the overstimulation for a moment, but you’re coherent enough to whisper to him as he comes down from the high.

“I love you so much.” You remind, shaky hands smoothing his crazed hair.

Your swollen lips kiss the side of his head before he turns to meet with his.

“Shit.” He pants into your skin, slowly adjusting his weight on top of you.

Tyler wears the same smile you do, trying to get his muscles to stop buzzing before he slowly lifts off of you.

He looks down, watching as he slowly pulls out of you and sees the mess between your legs. He’s dripping down your thighs, and you’re whimpering that he’s not inside of you anymore.

Pressing a kiss to your knee, he promises to be back in just a second. He cleans himself up, then comes back from the bathroom with a warm washcloth.

Your arm lays over your wide eyes as he cleans the mess gently, the storm isn’t so violent now, it’s settled on a steady rain and softer thunder.

Ty helps you to the bathroom and back, then pulls the covers over the two of you back in bed.

Arm around his middle, head on his chest, you fall into a comfortable silence. His thumb rubs your shoulder, eyes about to shut from the way your warm hand moves to slide up and down his stomach. Then, your loss for words passes you and you’re back to being your normal self.

“You ever scared that you’ll get me pregnant?” You ask, making Tyler’s eyes snap back open.

“What?” He clears his throat.

“You ever scared that you’ll get me pregnant?” You repeat your words.

He tries to find an answer that won’t piss you off, but he isn’t sure what will and what won’t. You know his silence well, so you add onto the question.

“There’s no right or wrong answer, cowboy.”

Ty wraps his arm around a little tighter around your shoulders. “Yeah, sometimes. When we were on the road, I was terrified of it, actually.”

“Really?” You hum. “And what about now?”

He takes in a breath. “Now, I don’t really think about it…I mean, we aren’t doing a lot of things to prevent it.”

You laugh. “The pill thing isn’t important when you have life saving research to do.”

Tyler shakes his head at you. “It made you kind of moody anyway.”

You smack his chest, making him claim he was kidding.

“I guess I could ask you the same question.” He says. “You scared I’ll get you pregnant?”

You move your hand back to its original place on his stomach. “I really don’t know. I mean, we aren’t kids anymore so I guess it wouldn’t be horrible if it happened but…we’re just so busy.”

He agrees. “And we aren’t really married.”

You strain your neck to look at him. “Does that matter to you?”

He looks down at you. “Does it matter to you?”

You hold his gaze, then look away. “I don’t know that either…”

Silence between you, rain above you.

Tyler sighs, letting his thumbs motion on your skin continue despite your goosebumps. “I’m not scared of commitment if that’s what you’re wondering. You want me to marry you? We’ll go to the courthouse tomorrow. You want babies, I’ll give them to you. Anything you want, I promise I’ll give it to you.” He says in such a serious tone, you feel your throat start to swell and your eyes burn.

You smile then kiss his chest. “You’re sweet on me like a bear to a beehive.”

Tyler grins. “I still have no clue what’s coming out of your mouth.”

“That’s okay, cowboy, as long as you can understand me saying I love you, we’re fine.” You say softly.

And you two fall asleep like that, tangled up together. Any movement you make throughout the night, you don’t get too far before Tyler’s gripping you warmly and dragging you back to his skin.

Come morning, birds are singing praise and the wind is gentle. You wake on your side, facing him, legs tangled together. He looks like a puppy when he’s asleep, all calm and soft. The broken morning light paints him a warm golden color, you reach out and push his hair away gently. He stirs slightly, his eyes drag open to see you against a backdrop of a simple shade of blue.

The sky outside the window is clear, you’re looking at him with affection, he wouldn’t want anything else.

“Mornin’.” You smile.

“Good morning.” He says with sleep still in his voice.

[the-lavender-clown]

MORE COWBOY AU STUFF BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED!!! The au I’ve made with some friends is called Fool’s Gold! I may or may not write some fics for it 👀

Here’s an infodump on it if anyone is interested!!

Raph is tired sheriff who sighs at every newspaper & new wanted poster showing off his blue and purple brothers as well as Donnie’s partner in crime but a he can’t help but be a little proud because he knows their doing good, just in their own special & questionable way.

Mikey is a nomad that travels around & sells self-woven clothes and blankets as well as hand carved & painted trinkets or whatever else he’s made. He treats weary travelers to home cooked meals & tales & legends of four brothers! He’s also the only brother not *constantly* making trouble for Raph.

Leo is a lone hero. Going town to town & over throwing whatever greedy mayor/banker/outlaw has that town in its clutches. He’s able to masterfully manipulate whoever he’s dealing with & using his many resources to gather important information. He ties them up to a post for the sheriff’s convenience when he comes by the town to pick them up.

Donnie & Cass are bounty hunters/mercenaries. They used to chase each other for their bounties & because Cass was a part of the Foot before the brothers took them down & Donnie just so happens to often be the closest to her trail once she popped up again. After awhile of constantly failing to catch each other they started thinking of each other as *their* targets & everyone knew better than to try and catch the other. A fun little song & dance/game of cat & mouse if you will. Eventually they ended up having to run from the same person together & realized that they honestly make a good team & have stuck together ever since!

Shelldon is adopted by Donnie before he & Cass teamed up. He was told by the Purple Dragons to get close to Donnie so they could catch him in exchange for enough money to set him for life, money they had no intention on giving him. He did get close to Donnie but in the end didn’t want to betray him but the Dragons had accounted for that & set off an explosion in a mining tunnel to get rid of them both. Donnie ended up being able to get Shelldon a little clear of the crumbling tunnel before he was trapped under the rumble. Shelldon doesn’t want to leave him but eventually does & immediately goes to try to find help, coming across Leo who had found Donnie’s spooked horse & was trying to find out what trouble Donnie had gotten himself into since his horse never leaves unless something really bad happened. Donnie ends up losing a leg cuz is it truly an F!Donnie if he doesn’t?

Casey is adopted after Donnie & Cass team up. They were in town for some groceries when Raph told them about this kid in some not so great circumstances & said it’d be a shame if someone were to beat up his guardians & kidn@p him while he was busy with all this paperwork. Donnie & Cass were gone before he finished. They weren’t gonna pass up an opportunity where they had permission to do a crime after all!

The main difference between Leo & Donnie’s work is that Donnie always cashes in the bad guys for money & can be hired for jobs as well as uses semi lethal methods while Leo mainly does it for fun & justice (& to mess with Raph) & takes like a free drink as payment before moving on. Leo will leave notes on the bad guys for Raph for when he comes to pick them up.

��The Bread Winners” is the name of Donnie, Casey, Shelldon, & Junior’s gang because Casey’s brownie scouts & my Donnie baker hc. It also shows that they’re in it for the money & fits with how the go undercover as a family often. Plus it sounds innocent enough to disguise how insane they really are.

That is it for now!! Hope some of y’all like it!!

Here’s the drawing without the text in the middle

[gloomwitchwrites]

1k challenge request- what is Ghost like on vacation? NSFW always preferred lol

Ghostie on vacation? Vacation?!? Yes, please. Funny enough, Ghost is currently on vacation in Ink & Needle, and that boy is being naughty in that AU. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Thanks for sending this in! I hope you enjoy it (and the steamy bits).

Most of these are gn!reader with one or two exceptions!

Word Count: 729

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Do y’all remember the bit of banter between Soap, Ghost, and Laswell in MW3? And Ghost replies “why not both?” when it comes to whether they prefer the beach or snow. To me, that means Ghost is down for anything. He’ll take a road trip or a week-long stay in Bali. Man just loves a good vacation.

On that note, when Ghost and Soap were being a bit cheeky about the “tan lines around the eyes,” he insinuates he wears the mask, but I don’t believe that. When Simon isn’t in the field, he’s not going to wear his mask, especially on vacation. He’d stick out like a sore thumb.

If Simon is taking a vacation with his S/O, he’s really down for anything. It can be simple and romantic. It could be camping. Hell, you could drag him to Disneyworld and he’d probably still enjoy himself.

However, he’s very much controlling when it comes to traveling. He’s the Dad in this scenario. He packs in advance, he wakes up way too early to go to the airport, he checks to make sure the plane is actually at the gate, he keeps the schedule, and Simon isn’t necessarily going to just “go with the flow” in the moment. Simon is the one holding the passports and tickets. God help you if you try to seize them from him.

No mask. Period. And no work. Simon isn’t taking phone calls, emails, or anything else. Price can deal with any shenanigans on his own.

Terrible about putting on sunscreen. You’re always making sure he’s protecting his skin.

Most of the spending money is spent on feeding Simon. Dude is a brick wall and he’s always eating. And when he’s not eating something, he’s buying you whatever you want.

If the vacation requires driving, Simon prefers taking his own vehicle or renting one. He doesn’t skimp here. Simon will select a reputable rental car company and select something roomy.

Holds you accountable on everything, but is also incredibly indulgent. You might complain that something is expensive and you won’t get it, and Simon will say good on you for sticking to your guns, but he’ll also just fucking buy it anyway because he can’t help seeing you smile.

Vacations (or rather holidays) are Simon’s one opportunity to forget everything. He can spend time with you completely uninterrupted. No life shit. No work shit. Just you and him.

Enjoys the outdoors but is also down for exploring cities, walking through museums, and trying new things. Simon is open to exploring a culture he’s never interacted with before, especially if he’s doing it with you.

Likes to travel and go on vacation during off-seasons. Simon isn’t a fan of crowds and it’s not from an anxiety standpoint. That military training is hard to dislodge, and he’s often overly aware of potential threats in a crowd.

Has a terrible sweet tooth. Simon will eat more desserts than actual food if you’re not watching him.

Loves long road trips because he enjoys all the lazy blow jobs you give him while in the car. Sometimes he has to pull over and just have his way with you.

Basically, you and Simon are fucking regardless of where you are.

Going on a destination vacation to a beachy oasis? Simon is fucking you in the cabana, in the hotel room, in the private pool, under a waterfall. Sometimes it might be lazy and slow, and sometimes he’s just chasing his own end and needs to be inside you.

Camping? That tent is seeing some action. You’re little spoon. Simon is big spoon. And he probably has his cock buried deep inside you, rocking his hips lazily while is hand is playing with other parts of you.

But he’s smart not to fuck out in the wilderness. Bug bites are the fucking worse.

In the cabin in the Pacific Northwest? He’s fucking you by the fire while it rains outside.

Simon’s intimacy and romantic side really flourishes during this time. Because there are no outside distractions, he’s able to put his entire focus on you. Along with the sex, Simon is simply an attentive partner. While he’s here to enjoy himself, he is also highly aware of your needs.

Hates when the two of you have to go back to the real world. Would rather disappear with you forever.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06

@haven-1307 @therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666

@lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg

@webmvie @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe

[thevampirekeke]

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x goth/spooky reader

Y’all I have no idea what I’m doing and I cannot write but I still hope you enjoy this. I tried including common hobbies I see in the goth community. Im still fairly new to the community myself so please don’t beat me up.

•Adrian has no idea how to be cool around you when he first meets you. Your all black attire and dark makeup has his brain scrambling to find something witty to say to you. He makes it his entire goal to impress you and convince you that he is cool.

•listens to goth music to try and impress you with his diverse music taste. Even goes as far as referencing and humming songs around you. He can’t help but adore the excited gasp you let out everytime.

•when he asks you out he is stood there in his nicest outfit holding a bouquet of black roses with a face skull in the middle “please go out with me” he blurts out obviously nervous a dark blush covering his face. Oh you were going to eat this man up.

•he brings you on a date to a year round haunted house knowing how much you would love it even with it being a bit of a strange first date. He can’t help but heat up every time you jump and cling to him letting out soft giggles at the jump scares.

•when you both start dating Adrian has no clue how he does it. Somehow someway you had fallen for him and he couldn’t be more grateful to whatever found him worthy of this gift.

•the others are just as confused as Adrian, both understanding how someone like him could pull someone like you. But they still are supportive and happy to see the both of you so happy.

•talk about black cat x golden retriever energy, you two are the definition of opposites attract.

•loves the way you leave a black kissy mark whenever you kiss his cheeks or lips. Jokes about you turning him goth everytime you leave black lipstick on his lips.

•is more than happy to sit there and watch horror movies with you all night even though he hates the idea of ghosts. Humans and aliens he can handle but ghosts he draws the line at. But he will deal with the jump scares in order to sit there with you clinging to his side.

•a little skeptical when you admit to him you collect haunted dolls. He doesn’t 100% believe they are haunted but definitely hates the way they all stare at him whenever he is at your house nonetheless.

•doesn’t even hesitate to ask to join when you tell him you are going for a walk in the local cemetery to cool off after a long mission.

•is a bit worried he will stick out like a sore thumb the first time you invite him to the goth club with you. Once he gets there however he throughly enjoys his time, especially as he gets to watch you so effortlessly dance on the dance floor.

•lets you do his makeup one time and finds he doesn’t actually mind it, infact he think he looks badass. He wouldn’t wear it again the several layers of white foundation and black eye makeup being a sensory overload but he did find it enjoyable in that moment.

•lets you dress him up when the two of you go out. Even lets you dress him up when you two meet the other 11th street kids drawing a “what the hell happened to you?” From Chris.

•is kinda terrified of the monster you become when Halloween rolls around. He has never been in and out of stores and spent more money on Halloween decorations in his life.

•when you start slowly moving into his place he watches as his house becomes covered in different spooky and gothic trinkets and decor. Including those damn spooky dolls.

•takes you on dates to different spooky and odd events and places because he knows how much you love going to those type of things

•constantly compares the two of you to different gothic couples. Even begged you to change eachothers contact photos to Morticia and Gomez.

[loliwrites]

August: Nice Girls Don't Stay For Breakfast

part one of fountain of sorrow

⇢ pairing: javier peña x f!reader  ⇢ rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni  ⇢ chapter warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother!reader [child won’t play a massive role], canon compliant gun violence [starts with a snippet from s1e7], mention of canon compliant violence against women [javi remembers helena], terrible exes, mention of past relationship abuse [nothing specific or graphic], creepy guys [not javi], sassy chucho, alcohol consumption, brief SMUT, car sex, unprotected p in v sex, post-sex photos, cigarettes [are bad for you], javi’s gonna make a good girl dad, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, protective!javi, no use of y/n. ⇢ word count: 7.3k (woof, sorry. there was a lot of exposition to get out) ⇢ series masterlist  ⇢ a/n: switching pov’s in this one. very excited to share this series with y’all & would love to know what you think about it! as always, i’ve done my best to tag the warnings, let me know if you think i’ve missed one.

Two shots. One right after the other. That’s all it took before he managed to get his first shot off. Well, that and the sound of lead whizzing by his head. Clear and present threats to his life trying to break skin and shatter bone. In another lifetime maybe he’d have been a little faster. A little quicker to the trigger. When out on raids like this, he wasn’t sure why his finger wasn’t perpetually in a half pulled position anyway. What use was it trying to take these guys alive? They shot first and asked questions second. Why didn’t he? If they had no qualms killing a DEA agent, why’d he take precautions to save that of a sicario?

These are fanciful thoughts. Ones you can only think about after the fact. Ones only after you’ve almost had your life ended, when your adrenaline has played its role – when you’re no longer running through the streets of Medellín, praying that when you round the corner, some guy with a .38 isn’t going to clock you in the head. Bullseye.

Those are thoughts that have to come later because running after a guy nicknamed ‘Sure Shot’ doesn’t instill one with a whole lot of confidence that he’s going to get out of this alive. Hell, maybe it’s lucky Poison fired the first two shots through the window. Maybe it was fate that he’d had those couple seconds to shoot back and make a run for it before Sure Shot lifted his handgun. 

Not that anything that followed was lucky.

Murphy had gone after Poison. He’d run after Sure Shot, who, while on the run, seemed to disregard his nickname and the fact that he had a weapon in his hands. Before they’d separated too much, he could hear shots ringing off and knew Murphy wasn’t having the same experience with Poison. Rather unfortunately, the streets were crowded with people going about their daily lives, put right in the middle of the action through no fault of their own other than the misfortune of their geography. They were making it hard for him to keep pace. And should things go even more amiss, they would become collateral damage.

He rolled his ankle once while propelling himself over a wall. When he landed, he knew he fucked up. Not as spry and nimble as he used to be. And surely not as much as the man he was chasing. But they were leaving the crowds. Dodging the busy streets and trading them in for back alleys which left them virtually alone. That was when it really all went to hell. He’d gotten Sure Shot pinned in his crosshairs. One could call it a perfect sting operation as Sure Shot slid his gun over. But if there had been one thing Javier Peña had learned being in Colombia, it was that he should never count on being lucky, especially when it came to anything Pablo Escobar related. Because money spoke, but it spoke louder in the slums. 

And the child that had arrived pointing a handgun at him, demanding Sure Shot be let go? Sometimes twenty dollars looked too damn good. And to a child who’d been exposed to cartel violence for the entirety of his life; being handed a gun with the money was like a dream come true. They weren’t playing cowboys and indians. They were playing policía y sicarios.

Up until that point, the worst thing he ever had to do was point his government issued sidearm at that child. He didn’t know it at the time, but that would eventually lose its place on his growing list of ‘worst things he’d done’. He couldn’t even blame the kid who was only acting in favor of a hero, so he added it to the list of reasons to hate Escobar.

Javi blinked. He was no longer in Bogotá or Medellín, but in Laredo, Texas. His hometown. Gone were the days of chasing someone down and being shot at, for now at least. Now his days consisted of helping his dad out on the ranch or DEA desk work. That was the one perk to Laredo. It sat right up against the US, Mexico border with an international airport a stone's throw away on the Mexico side, in Nuevo Laredo. It was just the right place for a DEA field office to set up and watch drugs try to enter the US. But it was also the place Javi had run from. The first chance he got, despite conversations with his father about how he could run but he might not like what he found. Truth was, he didn’t. The world outside Laredo was… pretty terrible. But he never regretted leaving. There had been some remorse there for what had happened with Lorraine, but never regret. 

Javier closed his mouth and swallowed. It had run dry in his moment of blacking out. Honestly, he was shocked he hadn’t gotten into a car wreck. He rested his arm on the car door and drummed his fingers against the hot metal. It had spent the better half of the day baking in the sun while he sat at border watch. Now it’d bake a little longer while he helped fix a fence on his dad’s ranch. 

He glanced out his window, squinting despite the sunglasses over his eyes and had to do a quick double take. You gotta be kidding me. Going along the sidewalk, arms swinging haphazardly, a little girl walked all by herself. She couldn’t have been more than six. Pigtails bounced with each step she took. Little Mary Jane shoes buckled over white socks, a navy blue and white checkered dress. She looked entirely out of place in the horribly country town. An innocent little creature in a world full of wolves. And as Javi continued to watch her, slowing down to accommodate for a red light but also to keep in line with her, he saw the wolves start to come out. The little girl remained oblivious to all of it, as a child who doesn’t know the world is full of evil would. A stark contrast to a lot of the children in Colombia. 

Though she was able to continue on her way without notice of the world around her, Javi couldn’t. Not as she passed a group of boys on bikes – probably only a few years older than her – and how they tugged on her pigtails when she walked by. She waved her hands at them, brushing them out of her ringlets, the permanent smile not leaving her face for a second. The boys followed her for a few steps after she passed, probably thinking she’d pay them some attention if they teased her loud enough. But the moment they were behind her and no longer in her line of vision, it was like she had forgotten they’d ever been alive. Not once did she turn around to them, and finding this game now boring, the boys turned back and pedaled away. But those boys were the least of her worries. Sure, the boys were annoying but they proved to be no real threat. Kids didn’t carry guns here like they did in Medellín. At least, Javi didn’t think they did.

There was, however, a real threat. Or one Javi perceived to be a real threat. He doubted the little angel realized she was walking through a potential lion’s den. Now fully stopped at the red light, he kept his focus squarely on her. He didn’t want to think too hard about how useless he was while actually in his car, but regardless, he continued to watch. She skipped past a group of three men. Using the profiling skills the DEA had drilled into him, he figured these guys were around his age, though a little worse for wear. Each had a cigarette hanging from their lips and beer bellies hanging from beneath shirts. And every single one watched the little girl pass by. The conversation the men had been having stopped almost immediately, and gave way to what could best be described as ogling. Only once did one of the men manage to tear his eyes away to glance up and down the street. As if fully realizing this little angel was indeed alone they all started to chuckle.

The red light had thwarted the little girl’s advance. She reached up on tip toes and pressed her tiny fingers against the metal pedestrian button. Traffic in front of her and the group of men behind her, she was trapped in the middle. Javi almost thought he’d just continue on his way. That girl’s parents had made the decision to let their child walk alone. Prey to the world. And he had responsibilities to get through. His dad would tear him a new one if he was late. The fence had to be fixed by nightfall to keep coyotes from killing the chickens. He really thought he’d go on his way.

But they whistled at her.

And though not in the way Javi had been guilty of doing to a hooker or two, but in a way of trying to get her attention in lieu of candy. They whistled at her. And he prayed she’d continue to ignore the world around her. For just a second more.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Javi tore his eyes away from her long enough to look over his right shoulder, make sure he was in the clear, and then broke a few traffic laws to get to the curb. He threw his car in park, mumbled another profanity to himself, and got out of his car. Even breaking a few more laws to cross the street as the light turned green. But he had to get to her. Maybe to the public, he looked no better than the guys who had whistled at her. But he knew himself. He trusted himself a helluva lot more than he trusted those guys. So dodging traffic, he ran to her side of the street as the men advanced toward her. Despite the light now showing the little walking man, giving her the right of way, she didn’t move from the curb. Just stared at the street as Javi approached, “muñequita!”

The sound of his voice was enough to get the men to pivot on their heels and walk away from her. Javi was glad about that. He didn’t want to try to go up against three beer bellies. But the sound of his voice hadn’t been enough to get her attention. He tried again, now stepping up onto the curb beside her, “muñequita.”

Finally she looked at him. Hands clasped in front of her, head tilted back, and big, brown, soulful eyes looked up into his. The smile still on her face. Painfully unaware of the world around her. “Muñequita, where’re you going all by yourself?”

“Home,” she lifted one hand and pointed straight ahead.

Javi looked in the direction of her hand, finding that the light had already turned red again. He reached past her and hit the metal button again. “Where’s your mom?”

“She’s working!” the little voice chirped. High-pitched and very clear. Obviously, strange man, mommy is working.

“What about your dad? Where’s he?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Javi pursed his lips and nodded. He must’ve been out of the picture. Surely wasn’t the first deadbeat dad in the world. Javier crouched down, wincing, and rested his forearms on his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. “It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself, muñequita. Can I drive you home?”

The little girl shook her head but the smile remained, “mommy said not to get in stranger’s cars.”

“That’s right. Your mommy’s very smart.” He looked back at the streetlight. It had turned green for them again. “Can I walk you home, then?”

She nodded enthusiastically, probably just happy to have a ‘friend’ along for the walk that she could muse too. So Javi stepped off the curb and started crossing the street. But when he looked down to ask her if she knew her address, he found that she wasn’t beside him. He glanced back over his shoulder and found her standing on the edge of the curb. Her arm outstretched. Her delicate little hand opening and closing in his direction. Help, help, help. He took a breath and lowered his head sheepishly, he should’ve known, and made the few steps back to her. With his hand held open, she slotted hers in it and jumped off the curb with flair, skipping along to keep up with him.

It melted his heart. This sweet, little creature. A Lamb of God. And though she wasn’t pointing a gun at his face, she reminded him a lot of that little Colombian boy in Medellín. That boy had been given a gun and left alone. Sent to do the work of a drug lord who was far too willing to sacrifice a child’s life as long as it wasn’t his own. And this one… what was to become of this angelita left alone? If the crimes he’d seen committed against children in Colombia hadn’t been bad enough, the crimes he witnessed against women had been. At that moment, looking down at the little girl, Javier only thought of Helena. He wondered where she was. Where she ended up. Had she gotten to America? Had it been kind to her?

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javi knocked on the front door and took a step back. He glanced down at the little girl, her hand still firmly gripping his. She hadn’t let go of it since they crossed the street. It also wasn’t the only thing she didn’t stop doing on the rest of the walk. She hadn’t stopped talking. About the clouds, every dog they passed, her school friends and their first grade-sized drama. He’d learned she was five and a quarter and one of the youngest in her class. Her favorite color was purple. And she liked her scooter because she was afraid of her bike.

And above all, she did not seem concerned that there was no answer at her house. Javi knocked again, but the girl pulled her hand out of his and ran back down the porch step, down the small paved path, and cut across to the lawn. Javi immediately turned and went after her, taking a couple steps in her direction before he slowed down when he saw what she had set out to do. Crouched down, singing to herself, she plucked a flower from the grass and came skipping back to him.

“Look!” She thrust the tiny flower in his direction.

He glanced at it, shifting his focus between the little, yellow flower and her. “Wow,” he feigned excitement.

She tugged on his hand again, “‘s a buttercup! Sit, I want to see if you’re good!”

Javi took a deep breath and looked around the neighborhood, wondering if anyone had seen him arrive with her. If they were suspicious as to what some random man was doing with a little child that wasn’t his. But she tugged on his hand again so he sat on the step and she curled in closer to him, resting her free hand on his leg.

“See!” She held the flower beneath her chin, “‘f’it glows lellow, that means you’re good!” She grinned and got impossibly closer to him. “Is it lellow?”

He ducked his head and spotted a faint colorful glow on her chin. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the sun was reflecting it. “Yeah, it’s yellow,”

“I’m good!” She shrieked and reached her hand towards Javi’s face, “lemme see if it’s lellow for you,”

Javier stretched his neck, raising his chin to give her access to the spot she needed for her experiment. There was a little pause, the petals brushing against the bottom of his chin as she inspected it. His eyes locked on her, watching.

“It is!”

She yanked her hand away and Javi lowered his chin, a new, wide grin spread across his face. “I’m good?” he asked, looping his arm around her back when she flung the flower away and scooted in closer to him.

The little girl nodded and opened her mouth to say something else but her attention was quickly diverted when a set of tires crackled along the gravel driveway. She hopped to her feet excitedly, but stayed planted beside Javier, her hand clutching his leg to steady herself.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Panic set in at the sight of an unknown man sitting, waiting at your house. The panic turned heart-stopping when you saw that that unknown man had his arm wrapped around your young daughter. Worse, he seemed to be smiling… beaming… at her. As if he’d found the greatest of prizes. Though his smile did vanish upon the sound of your tires crunching along the gravel driveway.

And the way you exited your car? With speed you didn’t know was in you. The story you’d heard about a mama bear instinct kicking in, in times of crisis had never exposed itself as fiercely as it did in this moment. It had only come in shades of gray before. Now it was full on technicolor. You were seeing it in living color and it felt as though you’d been removed from your body, floating above it all, getting a bird’s eye view. The way this man stood clutching onto your daughter’s hand, and the way she hesitated to obey your command to get away from him in order to give him a hug around the leg. A bitterness rose in your throat and only slightly settled when she finally bounded toward you. Still from your bird’s eye view, it was as if you watched yourself inspect her for harm done but found none. And temporarily satisfied, you suggested she carry on to the backyard. A gated safe haven and more importantly, far, far away from the strange, mustached man, staring at you both. 

She obliged, as she always did. She was an angel. And after your ex – her father – all but split at the pregnancy announcement, an angel was exactly what you needed. The expectation was never that you’d become a single parent, but you figured it was a better option than sticking around with that deadbeat. Which, as you approached the stranger on your porch, made you wonder… where was that deadbeat? It was his day to pick her up from school. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You spat, now in killing distance if you so pleased to do to this guy. “So help me, I will cut off your dick and balls, put it on a pike, and march it through town! She’s five for fuck’s sake!”

Javi to his credit, not particularly known for his abundant patience, didn’t yell back. Didn’t fly off the handle in a fit of anger. Didn’t even let his expression show the slightest hint of sorrow. In fact, he had a smile on his face. And if that didn’t piss you the hell off even more. 

“Is this your thing? You follow a little girl home, scoop her up, and poof! She vanishes. You fuck right off.”

Smile still plastered on his face, clearly finding some form of enjoyment from this spectacle you were putting on. But when the rampage simmered down, awaiting an answer, he lifted his hand, palm turned upward in an invitation to embrace yours, and grinned a little wider, “Javier Peña, DEA.”

You scoffed, staring his hand down and crossing your arms over your chest, “you think it’s better that you’re a cop? One bad apple…”

He rested his hands on his hips, “technically a Fed. For drug enforcement. And as far as I know, she didn’t have any coke-laced lollipops on her.”

You opened your mouth for another smart response, anything to show that you had the upper hand here. Concerning your kin. On your property. But Javi took a step forward, effectively forcing you back off the singular porch step, and there he stood towering over you, on the high ground. Though he would’ve towered over you anyway, even had you been on equal footing.

“If I were a cop, I’d be lecturin’ you about how it’s irresponsible to let your child walk home alone. And worse that she’s only five, as you so generously pointed out. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, you need to be worryin’ about the fuckin’ group of men whistling at her. Tryna get her attention.” He stepped off the porch, now on even ground with you, and just as suspected, he towered over you. Broad shoulders straining against a button-down cotton shirt, square jaw and strong nose to boot. “You don’t have to believe this, but I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life today. ‘cause in my line of work, I have seen kids go poof. And for the little girls, they’re lucky if they go poof. It’s usually a helluva lot better than the alternative,”

Despite the height difference, you stepped closer, coming face to chest. Doing your best threatening glare. “If I see you around my daughter again, I will parade your severed penis around town like it’s a fourth of July float. Do not fucking try me, Javier Peña,”

It wasn’t until you let yourself inside the house and slammed the door behind you, that the smile returned to Javi’s face and he crossed through the front yard to get back to the sidewalk. While talk about one’s severed penis was rarely a reason to smile, it was one of the least violent things that he’d been threatened with and he figured that sort of punishment was far better than the kind that he’d watched Los Pepes commit in Colombia. And, yes, the cause had been just – in the effort to take down Pablo Escobar. But he knew the ease with which Los Pepes murdered sicarios in Medellín would one day be turned against him. They would have found a justification for his murder. And that, mixed with the fact that what he was doing was definitely illegal, was the reason he was back in Laredo. And the reason he’d been able to keep the muñequita safe today. 

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

He knew he wouldn’t make it to Chucho’s ranch before sundown. No chance. And his dad, also not particularly known for his patience (at least where it concerned his son), wasn’t bound to be too pleased about his son’s absence today. Hopefully he’d managed to fix the fence without him.

Javier’s suspicions proved to be correct when he pulled up his father’s long, dirt driveway and came upon the main house just as Chucho and his longtime ranch hand, Pancho, were stepping out the front door. For the second time that day, Javi found himself murmuring, “fuck,” beneath his breath.

Headlights illuminated the two older gentlemen, who still donned their boots, cowboy hats, and dusty jeans from their laborious day. Javi threw the car in park nearly before he hit the brakes, surely stripping the gears, and hopped out of the cab, ready to plead his case.

Chucho held up his hand. The wrinkles etched deep in his skin after decades of hard work in the sun. “No mames!” He shook his head and muttered to himself, “pinche naco. You owe Pancho a couple beers.” The elder Peña rounded to the driver side of his truck with Pancho letting himself into the passenger side. But before he fully entered the cab, Chucho looked back at Javi with a shout, “meet us at the Tack Room!”

The Tack Room. One of a handful of watering holes in town that boasted a kitschy barn theme. But it had the distinction of being the only one that was actually in an old barn. It had been transformed into the bar in Chucho’s young adulthood, and it had been his go-to place ever since Javier could remember. It was nothing fancy. Just a small town dive. Truly a place for locals though it wasn’t as if Laredo had much tourist appeal. Drinks were cheap. Domestic beers hovered around a buck. The food was greasy. Perfect for soaking up the alcohol already consumed and making patrons believe they could tolerate more. To Chucho it was home away from home, and to Javier, it was the place he’d gotten hooked on cigarettes. And places like it had been the reason he’d been so keen on leaving town as soon as he could. In a town as small as this, the local dives harbored three types of people:

The townsfolk who gossiped and got into everyone’s business.

The rancheros who never thought about leaving town.

And the deadbeats who never even tried.

And he’d gone to school with a lot of those in column number three. It was the bubble. People settled down here with jobs that barely paid the bills. They got married and started families. Those kids grew up, and never having the care, ambition, or opportunity to venture outside of southern Texas, stayed put. They fell in line with the work they’d watched their parents do and eventually started having babies of their own. And the cycle continued. All Javier knew was he had to get the hell out of there. So he did… despite the lump of guilt in his stomach about leaving his aging father behind. And when leaving brought him all the way to Colombia, Javi never thought he’d step foot in The Tack Room ever again.

It never failed to smell like sweat, burnt oil, and sawdust. A unique odor that all but singed his nose hairs and left him thinking his sense of smell would forever be compromised. The taste of Tecate didn’t even help. Not even the second one they were all on.

“Did you get the fence up, dad?” Javier asked, side-eyeing the girls at the next table over. If they weren’t old classmates or old girlfriends, he’d have a chance at warming up his bed tonight. They both looked like strangers to him. He could take his pick… or perhaps get both.

“No thanks to you, pendejo.”

“Alright, pop,” He took another sip from his pint glass. “I said I was sorry. I got held up, what do you want from me?”

Chucho lifted his cowboy hat off his head and smoothed out his hair before placing the hat back on. “Don’t think askin’ my son to stick to his word is too much. Instead Pancho has to help and his back’s–” Chucho interrupted himself. Then, looking past his son, and with a tone that dripped soft saccharine, “hola, chiquita!”

“Hola, Chucho!”

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The day hadn’t been great to say the least. No day in Laredo was great but thanks to a deadbeat baby daddy and an even deader-beat judge, it was where you were holed up. Traded in San Antonio for it and cursed yourself everyday. As far as you could tell, there wasn’t any getting out of Laredo. Not for you. Not for any of the townies you’d come to recognize. Everyone just stayed put. The reason as to why hadn’t yet revealed itself. There wasn’t anything great in Laredo.

Well maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

A deadbeat baby daddy for an ex was the reason you were here but without him you wouldn’t have had actual sunshine for a daughter. How she ended up like that while being genetically half of him, you’d never know. But if having chosen a different guy meant you’d never had her, it’s a mistake you would’ve made over and over and over again. She was just about the greatest thing ever planted on God’s green earth. 

And your job wasn’t so bad. Your first job, at least. There was some sort of cruel irony that job number one was as a clerk in the same courthouse where that deadbeat judge had told you it’d be “beneficial for the girl to grow up around her father”. He obviously didn’t know, or care to learn, just how terrible that guy was. Truthfully anyone – literally anyone – would be better off not being around him. But clerking was a job nonetheless. One with a steady schedule and pay. Easy to plan life around. Not like the second job. 

Very few good arguments could be made for The Tack Room. And even less for being a bartender there. Originally you thought a small town bar only full of locals meant that everyone would treat you kindly. But you learned people were pretty much dicks anywhere you went in the world. See, a small town bar full of locals meant that the patrons started to get a little too comfortable. And since no respectable woman would be caught dead drinking at The Tack Room, it meant the place was full with large, aggressively masculine men, who’d spent the day working in the sun or bumming it on the couch while their woman brought everything to the table. And those large, aggressively masculine men, when given liquid courage, started to think they were God’s gift to humanity. Glorified machines to move their penises from one room to another. A normal shift meant being catcalled, grabbed, hugged, or pinched more times than you had fingers. The other girls blushed and cowered and took that behavior. They were raised here – worse, they’d known some of the older men who were now pinching their asses, as children. 

Not you. You could thank your deadbeat ex for that. No man was ever going to lay a hand on you like that again.

“Hola chiquita!” The soundwaves drifted in your direction, wrapping the sing-song lilt around your atmosphere, and settling warm in your chest.

Actually, there was one good thing about The Tack Room. Chucho Peña. A quiet, aging gentleman from a bygone era; he was an unforeseen light. He’d liked you since the day he met you a year or so back, here at the bar. First shift, carrying a tray of empty beer bottles, Pepe Hernandez (that asshole) grabbed you by the back pocket of your jeans, pulled you back into him until you were seated in his lap and while he thought he was hung like a horse, you realized he was working with a chode. You told him as such – something mean and cutting since he’d already been rude with you – and instead of quietly nursing his bruised ego, he cocked a fist back and tried to take a swing.

Another thing to thank your deadbeat ex for. He taught you that fists were fast but your reflexes could be faster. You dropped the tray, beer bottles crashing to the sawdust floor, and dodged his hand. He may’ve missed but you never did. Landed one punch straight to his nose. With the commotion, you could hear your boss rumbling, coming out from the kitchen to see what the matter was. And before you knew it your little unforeseen light, Chucho Peña, was beside you. He nudged you out of the way and stood over Pepe.

Your eyes widened at Chucho, but your boss arrived at the scene you’d created but Chucho was taking credit for. He wanted to holler and cuss someone out. Crack some skulls for causing a ruckus. But finding Chucho (who, you’d later found out, had given your now boss his first ranching job as a teenager), your boss backed down and kicked Pepe out.

That first night, Chucho had given you his classic Peña wink and introduced himself. He didn’t like men around acting like fools and making his beer taste bad. But he liked you. Liked your grit. Your guts. And maybe because he knew you could rip him apart, he always treated you extra nice. To make up for the fact that no one else did.

“Hola, Chucho!” You yelled back over the noise of the bar.

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

You handed your purse to the bartendress behind the already crowded bar and got an apron from her in return. Wrapped it around your waist and tied it tightly around your waist on your way over to the table Chucho and Pancho were sitting at. Chucho had mentioned his son only a couple times in passing. You got the sense it was a sensitive subject and never cared to pry too much. 

But this son… your blood ran cold at the sight of him. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, clean shaven save for the mustache…

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Out of all the faces he imagined coming up to the table per his father’s offering, he never guessed it’d be you. And that fact made a little chuckle erupt from his throat when he held out his hand for an introduction you didn’t need.

“Hey, chiquita,” he smirked, all charm and nerve. Even more pleased with himself when you shoved your hand into his and told him your actual name.

But less pleased after you practically ignored him after that. Only spent a couple minutes making small talk with Chucho, trying to remain polite despite wanting to get the fuck away from his son. Maybe one day you’d fill the elder Peña in on how his son was caught with a five year old.

After you politely excused yourself from the table so you could get to work, and Javier realized he’d been practically silent the entire time, he glanced at his dad and found him gearing up for a ribbing.

“Didn’t you used to have game with the ladies?” Chucho grinned and took a sip of his beer.

“She’s not my type,” Javi grumbled.

“Ah ha. You mean she’d take a bit of work,” Chucho nodded, easing his cowboy hat back out of his eyes. “Son, it’s the women like that, that you gotta hold on to,”

Javi shook his head absently, trying to write off his dad’s comments. But he still spent the rest of the night glancing back at the bar every now and again to get a glimpse of you. He wondered how much “work” it’d take him until you bent for him just like every other woman. To his dismay, you didn’t come back to the table the rest of the night. Instead, another waitress made the rounds and filled up the beers. She didn’t seem to have any problem with him. She’d be an easy one to get. But his dad’s words rang in his ears, and despite the waitress putting in a mighty effort to get his attention, he just kept looking back at you.

Until about midnight when he needed to close out. That waitress had stopped coming around when Chucho and Pancho left and she realized she wasn’t going to get any attention from him. He stood from the table and wandered over to the bar, pulling his leather billfold out of his wallet. Foot propped up on the kick step beneath the bar, and forearms on the wood bar top, he smiled when you made eye contact with him, practically forced to help him.

“Closing out?” you asked, noncommittally. 

He nodded affirmatively, waiting until you were back in front of him with the printed tab before he asked, “who’s watchin’ your kid now?”

And you could deck him. Really could. Put some serious thought into it. But he seemed to catch on that his little joke wasn’t too funny.

“Sorry,” he bowed and slid his credit card over to you.

You ran his card, taking deep breaths so that when you turned around to face him, you wouldn’t be seeing complete red. It worked just a bit, and when you turned to hand the bill back to him, you only saw shades of dark pink. “Chucho never mentioned his son was DEA. Sounds like a lie,”

Javier smiled again. While he slid his credit card back into his wallet, he simultaneously slid out the badge that got him into the local office. Presenting it to you and adding the same blank expression on his face as his picture on the badge, he figured you believed him.

“She talked about you all day,” you shook your head and ran a towel over the bar to wipe away lingering condensation. It gave you something to do other than get lost in his eyes. “The buttercups told her you were good,”

“Not sure who taught her that, but buttercups aren’t very good judges of character,”

“I did,”

He pressed his lips together and leaned a little closer to the bar. “Well, they’re not. But they didn’t lie,”

You nodded, relenting. “Then I guess I should thank you. And apologize for that stuff about severing your penis and marching it through town,”

“Trust me, I’m sure you’re not the only woman in Laredo interested in separating me from my penis,”

“It does some damage, doesn’t it?”

A flush worked its way up to Javi’s cheeks and he laughed softly. He figured he’d let that one go without response. Your brain could imagine for itself what kind of damage he could do.

“I’m off in a half hour. If you stick around, I can show you how sorry I am,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Maybe this not so great day was turning around. That’s the only explanation you could think of as to why you were currently seated on Javi’s lap in the passenger seat of your car, knees planted on either side of his waist, pressing against the coarse seat fabric. Tight t-shirt pushed up as far as it would go with your arms still in the sleeves. High enough for your breasts to be exposed; lace bra hiding the last bit of skin you had to offer. His hands had a crushing hold on your hips, rocking your body along his length. He was perpetually bottomed out, the lack of space giving no chance for reprieve. You brought one hand to the back of his neck while the other flung up and pressed against the roof of the car, trying to keep yourself down despite your body involuntarily inching away from him. Not that the confines of the space, or his grip on you, would let you get too far.

“C’mon, give it to me,” he growled with a labored breath.

A moan ripped through your chest and throat. Thighs quivered around Javi’s hips, which he undoubtedly felt because a chuckle rumbled past his lips and into the space between you both. You lowered your head, looking down into his eyes which were already boring into your soul.

“Already?”

“Shut up, Peña,”

He snapped his hips upward, where the head of his cock pressed against your cervix, searching for entry into a depth your body couldn’t accommodate. But entry wasn’t the ultimate goal, it was just to prove to you that he could. So he wrapped one arm around you, keeping you pinned to him where every movement of your body on his created friction against your clit. 

“Javi, querida. It’s Javi,”

Your head lolled forward and tucked into his neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses. Despite you being on top of him, he seemed to be everywhere. His body encompassed yours like a weighted blanket. Arms snaked around you to keep you close, as if you had any intention of furthering yourself from the pleasure he was giving you. “Javi,” his name lingered on your lips, singing two syllables that had never sounded so sweet. “I’m gonna come,” you gasped into his neck, closing your mouth and suckling gently on his skin.

He smiled and licked his lips, trying to focus on the feeling of your mouth on his neck. Anything to not give in to the feeling of your anatomy squeezing him within an inch of his life. He didn’t need you to tell him you were close; he could tell. “I feel it. Feel you pulling me deeper,” he lowered his head closer to your ear, his arm doing most of the work to keep your body in its steady rhythm, thrusting along him. “Go on, soak me. Give me your best,”

“Javi, Javi,” you panted. Then quickly, your head was pulled away from his neck. Both his hands cupped around your cheeks, forcing you to look down into his heads. 

You tried to lose the eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, but Javi shook you to attention. “Let me see those eyes when you come all over me,”

Eyes snapped open, pleading. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. Javi lifted his hips to meet the shifting of your body and that’s when you went rigid. Hands curling into fists and shaking. Your body jerked on top of him, an otherworldly cry erupting through you. He held on tight, leaning over and biting into your shoulder as you continued to tremble through your high. The breath hitched in your throat and it took a few seconds before a new deep lungful air entered your body. By that point, Javier was flexing and shaking beneath you.

“Where–shit–”

He knew you heard him too late. No doubt the throbbing of the pulse in your ears had blocked off the rest of the world. Unable to hear anything over the sound of your own blood pumping through your veins and the shattered cry coming out of your throat. So that by the time you did hear his question, it was too late. And Javi, just as he wasn’t known for his patience, also wasn’t known for his restraint – and yet somehow had the presence of mind and the wherewithal to physically lift you off his member just seconds before he came with a groan; thick spend coating his stomach.

You stared at it, watching the droplets create a line down toward the base of his cock, slaves to gravity. Only when he wrapped a large paw over your thigh and gave it a squeeze, did you blink and look back into his eyes.

“Good?” He asked in the same moment you leaned forward, finding himself face first in your breasts, “hello,” he smirked against your skin and bit into the fleshy mounds.

You squealed, searching blindly in the backseat with your hand before your fingertips found what they’d be looking for. And pulling back, with your free hand latching onto Javi’s hair and giving it a playful tug, you produced a Polaroid camera.

“‘S’that for?” he cocked his head to the side. 

But you didn’t answer him. Just quickly held it up to your eye, peered through the viewfinder and snapped the photo.

“Hey!” He snatched the photo away as it printed, currently just a gray square, waiting for the final image to appear. “What is this? Blackmail? You take pictures of all your conquests,”

You laughed and grabbed the photo right back, placing it in your bra and lowering your shirt. “You’re not that special, Peña,” 

Leaning back while still on his lap to create more distance for the camera, you held it back up to your eye and inspected the frame. This time his face didn’t make the cut, but his chest, down to his stomach still donning his come with his member laid back against it did. Along with your bare thighs straddling him, one of his hands still had real estate on your skin. You snapped that picture, too, and flipped it over to its blank side. With a pen in the center console courtesy of The Tack Room, you wrote your number and handed the picture to Javi.  He was out of your car before the thing had even finished developing. And in the darkness of the parking lot, he wouldn’t have been able to see the image even if it had been. A cigarette was in his mouth by the time you peeled out of the lot, and his nerves were settling with the overhead lights in his car flicking on. That was when he saw just what you’d snapped the second time. Two bodies. Anonymous. His cock rested limp against his stomach. Your legs secured around his hips. And a phone number on the back with the instruction, call me, Peña.

[dairy-farmer]

goddamn i was not prepared for the absolute gold that last ask was with alpha jay and omega tim. y’all have gold minds.

i throw my hat in the ring: jason taking a step back and being iffy about doing tim’s request — it’s one thing to sell to an adult, but a young omega? too skeevy for even him. then jason has a week where too many alphas have bitched him, he can’t even pretend the idea of sinking into an omega doesn’t sound like heaven.

(the ask is referring to this post since it's getting answered from all the way down the queue)

!!!! jason holding himself back from it because tim is just a young omega and probably does not understand what he's genuinely asking jason to do- so when tim comes to him he turns him down, tells him to go play with toys like all the good little omegas. and he makes sure to spread to word so none of the older alphas working the block get any ideas about taking him up on his offer. but tim comes back everynight, always asking always offering to pay him more money. and he singles jason out because he likes that jason is close to his age which just sends shivers down jason's back every time he thinks about it too long. all the alphas that fuck him do it because they're fucked up sickos that love the thought of bitching a baby alpha while tim likes him because he's baby omega sized and perfect to knot him.

clearly there's something deeply wrong with tim's home if he's thought to seek out a prostitute when he's just a baby, a barely presented omega. but jason already has enough on his plate and can't afford to worry about someone else. plus the omega shows up clean and in nice clothes. they're clearly not starved or smacked around so whatever is up with them can't be all that bad- them begging for an alpha aside.

but then jason just has a rough week of it. he's been stuffing spare cash into a metal box and stuffing it into a crack in a brick wall big enough for only his thin arm to fit through. it's what he was saving up to carry him through the winter. he'd work hard in the summer and fall and then in winter he could stay inside where it was warm and try to forget all the things he did just for a modicum of comfort.

but then jason shows up to his alley to put more into his stash. and he finds the beaten up metal box thrown on the floor, money gone. he sports it alongside trash and some discarded needles as the cold realization floods him. that some stupidly lucky junkie had managed to find his stash and now...he was fucked. he was going to have to work all through winter.

jason can barely hold back the tears, can barely believe his misfortune.

and then he remembers that little omega with the pink, round cheeks that keeps showing up, asking jason to be his alpha, offering him money to knot him.

jason is not the kind of scumbag alpha to fuck the baby omegas. that chubby omega that keeps coming to him and having to get chased away is just a stupid baby omega who doesn't understand what he's doing by trying to go around begging for knots. and jason liked to think of rejecting him as the last bit of decency he had in him.

and yet here he was. thinking about it. waiting at the corner, trying not to stare too much at the clock from the pharmacy across the street, the usual time of him showing up approaching.

it's not like he'll get any pleasure out of it aside from physical. after all, what alpha doesn't want a nice hot, tight, omega milking his knot all hours of the day? but that's not what jason is doing, he reassures himself. jason is just doing this for survival. not because being able to mount a sweet omega will sooth away all the disgust and revulsion he feels at the sight of other alphas. this is just for survival that he's going to knot this stupid little omega. that's all it is. he's not evil for just trying to live.

jason hopes if he says it enough he'll believe it.

[bettysupremacy]

Midnight rain | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve wants a family and a home with you, but you’re still chasing the fame of being a rockstar.

a/n this is dedicated to all my swifties. i love u. also, i’m incapable of finishing a fic on a sad note. sorry! happy ending.

Lemme know if y’all would want more of this

Request

“One more tour.” You cradle Steve’s fragile face in your warm hands.

Tears run over your fingers, dripping guiltily onto the blanket. He shouldn’t feel like this, and it shouldn’t have been you to make him feel like this. He was sunshine. The sight has your heart in pieces on the comforter between you.

“One more tour,” you whisper. “And then It’s you and me.”

He shakes his head. “I want that now.”

You know he isn’t blaming you for his hurt, but it gnaws at you anyways. “You know I do too.”

It’s weak, but it’s convincing. And true.

“I know you do.”

Your eyes search for his glassy ones. “But this’ll pay for it. Another tour is a house, more than that.” Fame. You don’t say it.

His chest aches. He knows you’re right, and the thought of ripping you from the very thing you want the most tears him apart. He slides into your arms, needy for affection. Your hand glides from where it cradles his jaw to behind his head, holding under his other ear. It’s an intimate touch that has him hiccuping into your chest.

The gratefulness that he’s this comfortable being vulnerable around you is burdened by your guilt.

You’d had this conversation before. It had started with your confession that he deserves more, and ended with him in tears again because he only wants you. He can’t imagine children with someone who isn’t you.

You’d left it at that. He’d wait, however long it took, and be there when you were ready. He just wish it’d be quicker.

There had been three tours so far. Three sold out worldwide tours that Corroded Coffin had traveled, each one a little more taxing on Steve. He missed you. He didn’t like being apart from you for so long, didn’t like calling you and knowing you were on a pay phone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was never that. He just missed the intimacy of home life he’d get in between travels.

“Eddie said this album would make the history books.” You whisper. You hate buzzing thrill in your voice. “This tour could mean big things.”

His head doesn’t move from your shoulder, but his arms tighten. “Big things that make the wait longer?”

“Big things that insure our future, Stevie.” You breathe out. “Another tour is the type of money where we’d never have to work again.”

“But you’d miss it.” He shakes his head the most he can. He’s right, you would. He couldn’t do that to you.

This was all you’d ever wanted, and you’d finally gotten it.

“We can still make music, corroded coffin can still make music, and once we’re settled, I don’t see why another tour isn’t possible.”

He sits up out of your hold, imagining this future. Your nimble fingers reach up to wipe over his cheeks, uncaring of the snot the runs.

His breathing is in staggers. “You, me, baby Harrington.”

“Yeah, baby,” Your shoulders shake with soft laughs, a light in the dark atmosphere. “I can still be rockstar with a kid.”

He smiles, pictures of you on stage with a bump flash his mind. “Totally metal to be pregnant.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You brush his hair from his eyelashes.

He blinks funny because of it. “And I could go with you.”

Your eyes lock. He’s only ever been with you for one. It was too much for him, too much movement. And it’d only been the states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’d like that.”

He nods back. He doesn’t want to miss you again. Missing you was the worst ache he’d ever endured. Many sleepless nights, many red eyes.

His tired eyes claw at you.

This argument started at ten and now your bedside clock reads midnight. You hate to even call it that. An argument. He hasn’t tried to stop you, to argue that you shouldn’t go. He’s just upset, rightfully so.

You stretch to your nightstand, pulling the string on your lamp. The room goes dark, silent besides his breathing. Laying down, you give him enough room to lay down beside you, his ear to your heart. Your fingers tangle in his hair. You let the silence envelope you before whispering.

“In two years.. we’ll buy your parents house,”

He nods quietly. “I’ll knock you up.”

Your chest rises in quiet giggles. His mouth turns up at the feeling of it. “You’ll knock me up. She’ll grow up with her uncle Dustin and aunt Robin.”

“She?” His eyes close.

“We’re having a girl.”

“Okay.” He wouldn’t mind being a girl dad.

You scratch his scalp. “She’ll go to Hawkins elementary, tour in the summer.”

He hums.

“It’ll work out.”

“Me and you.” He agrees.

You were midnight rain.

[zaimta]

彡 STRAW HAT PIRATES SPORTS AU

parings: straw hats x gn!reader, chopper x platonic!reader

zai says: my best idea ever brain funk lasted me a good 2 days and im FREE (im probably lying) i wanna split this into parts for the one shots but for now hcs!! no brook bc i literally couldn’t think of a sport for him maybe i’ll fit him in later idk 🧍🏾‍♀️

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

˗ˏˋMONKEY D. LUFFY- football (soccer) player

the type of person to just randomly meet his s/o somewhere, he’s either completely drunk or just extremely sober but he’s just crazy asf as is

when he meets you n you have no idea who he is he doesn’t remind you but he sees no reason to, he just introduces himself like normal and rolls with it

and if you don’t keep up with sports whatsoever you would have no idea you’re dating a football player and his friends would think it’s absolutely hilarious

he would teach you all about football and he even plays it with you from time to time, lots of pitty goals coming your way

i don’t think he’ll make a big deal out of telling you who he is he just randomly says it when he has a game/match and he asks you to come if you’re free

you kissing him after his games would be his favorite thing ever, he hoists you up by your thighs n smiles into the kiss

he gives you the biggest smile when you say that you’re proud of him when he wins, and even if he lost you would still be proud of him

˗ˏˋRORONOA ZORO- fencing

i don't see him falling in love with a rival i fear he would be too focused on climbing the ranks

au where kuina is alive bc i said so, but zoro still aspires to chase after her she is the best there is period and when he beats her he knows that he made it so far he has yet to beat her but he swears he’ll get there

he probably meets you at a fencing match or at a bar, either way where he meets you he doesn’t really flirt at first he just acknowledges you n it becomes something from there

peak situationship, you have no idea what you are when he actually does start flirting with you and takes you out on dates, and don’t let him talk about fencing either he can talk about it for hours and it manages to put a smile on his face

he always asks when you’re free whenever he has a match, he wants you to be there whether he wins or loses

there would be one crushing loss that gets to him and he holds you close to him and you stay like that for a while and you can tell he’s clearly upset, he pulls away from you mumbling something about getting his stuff

kuina passes by him and simply ruffles his hair saying how you’re a keeper and he brushes her off

kuina actually adores you she likes how you keep him grounded and encourages him to keep going, she sees him as a little brother and she’s glad he found someone like you

˗ˏˋNAMI- tennis player

totally played in college on a full-ride scholarship, the girl had to get her money's worth!!

richest tennis player simply because of her skill

au where belle-mère is alive because i said so, but nami often talks about her and nojiko in her interviews, belle-mère is so proud of her she’s always bragging about nami to anyone who will listen (literally anyone who stops by her tangerine farm bc she forces them to)

i see her falling in love with an opponent on the court, the bickering the two of you would have would go from a rivalry to slight flirtatious interactions to just straight flirting and everyone can see it

the tension would be at its peak during a championship game, the two of y’all would be in the finals, winner takes all type shit

nami says “i’ll take you out when i win, you know to help you get over your loss”

if she wins you let her take you out, if you win you let her take you out regardless which just intensifies her crush on you when you actually agree to go in the date

tennis power couple, the moment y’all debut in a doubles match it’s over for the world

˗ˏˋUSOPP- track and field

oh he’s totally a track star ik y’all see the way he be running

i see him running the 100, 200, and dabbling in long jump

he probably meet you while out on the town or at a meet, if you’re competing for another team and he ends up running against you or your teammate he shows off to impress you, if he meets you while he’s out and a bout he just tells you about himself casually

he would love going on little artistic dates, or he’ll buy the paint stuff and y’all can paint at his house while binging y’all’s favorite show

meet days are long asf for him once he gets back he’s immediately asleep, he tries (emphasis on tries) to text you when he gets home but once he brushes his teeth and puts his bonnet on, and his head hits that pillow oh he’s out like a light

he will never shut up about the 4 x 4 and how much he despises it, and if you don’t get it he takes you to a track and has you run a full 400m y’all now hate it together it’s a couples thing <3

if you’re there to cheer him in at his meets he actually falls in love with you like he wants to marry you and would propose to you on the spot if he could

the days after his meets he loves having lazy days with you and doing absolutely nothing, just holding you in his arms and relaxing is all he needs

˗ˏˋSANJI VINSMOKE- baseball player

he’s totally a baseball player i mean look at that waist ( we gon ignore the fact that he refuses to use his hands for anything besides cooking)

he’s totally a flirtatious player half of the time it’s unintentional bc that’s just how he is a natural gentleman

i see him asking a sports reporter for their number while they’re interviewing him, i see him enjoying the chase so if they brush him off he would be persistent flirting with you

him making sure you see his games, and he would flirt with you constantly if you’re there to recap the games

when he somehow gets you to agree to go out with him he’s actually over the moon, he treats you so well i’m talkin pressin a kiss to the back of your hand, opening doors for you all that jazz

when y’all start dating he’s still the same person, he flirts with you like he hasn’t won the chase a terrible romantic trulay

˗ˏˋTONY TONY CHOPPER [platonic]- athletic trainer student aide

student aide to an athletic trainer, he would probably be a prodigy too so they sitting here thinking he in college and he is but he’s like fucking 15

the team sees him as a little brother they all adore him and if they get scolded by him bc they wasn’t doing what they was supposed to do to let their injuries heal they so sad they disappointed him

you’re probably on the sports team he’s an aide too n he just naturally floated to you, he hangs out with you outside of the sports team and he sees you as an older sibling

if you need any help training he’d love to help you but if you make him work out with you he’s tapping and switching to moral support

if you get an injury he’s even harsher with you when you don’t listen he’s like “im not above putting my hands on people” whole time he not but he on the verge of slapping you so hard you gon have to be back in his office bc of the slap

makes you buy him lunch all thee time, for an athletic trainer aide he’s in love with sweets and you find it strange

˗ˏˋNICO ROBIN- volleyball player

#team mom

her volleyball team actually adores her

she’s been player of the year for her team, her conference, and in her league

i see her being the ace of her team, bringing them points home and someone her team can depend on to carry em home

but her practicing late one night and you walkin into the gym to do whatever maybe set up for media day or clean up, anyways you would catch her mid jump serve and it’s totally love at first sight for you i mean it’s robin like

she would smile at you and ask if you play volleyball

if you do she’ll hit some serves to you and if you’re down for it she’ll have a 1v1 practice match against you

if not she’ll be happy to teach you, hits you with the engulfing you and guiding your body with her hands

y’all would play together around the same time for the next few days and she asks you on a date and you ofc agree

˗ˏˋCYBORG FRANKY - athletic trainer for a hockey team

his team actually adores him like “big bro” franky in effect

i see him as an athletic trainer for a college team but he could also work for pros too!

if he works for a college team he totally cries when the seniors graduate, and if they go pro he makes sure to at least go to one of their games if he can

they’re always in his office even if they aren’t injured, when they don’t have class ( or anything to do ) some of his athletes just go to his office and talk to him about whatever

i see franky as a blind date guy nami probably sets one up for him and he meets you, he talks to you for a little while and he knows he’s into you

he could be in his office talking to you on the phone when his athletes catch him smiling at his phone too hard, or they notice how he’s in a better mood they totally tease him for it (he got that good team chemistry)

he’s so blindly in love with you too, if you don’t know anything about hockey he teaches you and if he has to teach you how to skate as well he literally never leaves your side he got his body around you as he shows you how to hit the puck with the stick

he also gives the best massages like any sore spots you had will be immediately gone

˗ˏˋJINBE - karate fighter

he screams olympian he truly do don’t he

anyways he’s well respected in his craft, it’s clear he loves what he does and he puts his all into karate

he’s such a smooth gentleman too, his flirt attempts would be subtle but they would be able to knock you off your feet like damn

him flirting with you while you wrap his wounds and it’s like this man?? and he’s so sweet with it

he’s the old timer with the lovey partner who was supporting him from the beginning, you was there when he had nothing to when he was winning championship titles

even though he’s gotten older he’s still got it, people love meeting him bc he’s such a sweetheart and he gives the best hugs ever, runs his own dojo maybe and he teaches people karate

when you stop by because he “forgot his lunch” he always thanks you with a kiss, you know he leaves it on purpose and he knows that you know but he keeps doing it anyways for a kiss

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Tolerate

summary: jake scours the city and comes home with way too many candles.

pairing: gn!reader x jake lockley

warnings: food mention, smoking mention

word count: 1.1k

gif credit: @marvel-daily

an: originally this concept was for the candle day of @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb but my brain wasn’t ready to finish it yet. hope y’all enjoy this little piece of grumpy fluff!

moonknight masterlist | general masterlist | requests open

Jake’s pissed off, which is nothing new.

Not at you— though you’re the reason he’s been driving around town for the last two hours. So maybe he is a little pissed off at you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he loves you and that he’s gone on this wild goose chase for you.

More than anything right now, he’s pissed off at candles. A specific candle. Your absolute favorite candle. He used to love it, though he never admitted that he loved the scent as much as you do. He could bet all the money he made cabbing people around this week that the smell of this candle would send him into a frenzy right now because he can’t find it.

You’re running low, the only one you have in the flat is probably burning right now, and it’s over halfway done. Steven suggested this, driving around to find a few to stock up on because of how much you enjoy it. Jake had agreed, he loves you and the gorgeous smile that spreads across your face when you get the first whiff. Marc has been eerily quiet, Jake knows that this is because you’ll be happy either way— you always are, always telling the three of them how they’re all you need.

He can hear Marc saying ‘She doesn’t need a candle, she has us. We can give her everything she needs’. You’ve made him comfortable that way— a feat that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Jake’s cab has been full of nothing but a string of curses, the cap that always sits on his head abandoned in the passenger seat as he runs his hand through his curls in frustration.

His phone rings and he rolls his eyes, having half the mind to throw it out the window. His expression immediately softens when he sees that it’s you calling and despite his frustration he answers affectionately, “Yes, amor?”

Jake hadn’t been who you expected— though he is a pleasant surprise.

You grin at the sound of his voice as you open the fridge, looking around, “Oh, hi, baby. Are you working tonight?”

He can hear you pattering around the kitchen through the line, “Something like that.”

As usual, he sounds frustrated. You learned early on that this is just his voice— that you’d have to find other ways to figure out what he was truly feeling. But, tonight there is no underlying softness in his tone, no sigh of relief.

“Well, I’m wondering if I need to make dinner for both of us. Are you okay?”

His eyes skate over to the clock on his dashboard If the next store has the candles he should be able to make dinner.

“I’m fine, I should be there in an hour.”

Jake is late— an entire hour late when he walks through the door, with three large big brown paper bags. He was right, that godforsaken candle is burning, a mix of its warm scent and the aromas of dinner in the air. And while he’s good at staying rigid on the outside, he can’t deny how inviting the smell is. Even after all the frustration, coming home to you and your stupid, deliciously smelling candle is his solace.

You regard him curiously when he walks through with so much cargo. What did someone pay him in that required bags like these?

“What’s all this?”

“For you,” He grumbles, setting the bags on the couch beside you before dipping to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

Jake’s scent is a nice accompaniment to the smells already swirling through the air. He adds an earthy smell, a mix of the leather of his coat and the cigarettes you’re pestering him to quit.

He disappears into the kitchen then, no doubt in search for the food you spoke of on the phone.

“For me?” You can’t keep the excitement out of your voice as you rise up on your knees, peering down into one of the bags.

A knowing grin spreads across your face and you reach into the bag, holding up one of the many candles he’s bought. Taking the lid off you inhale deeply— as if the scent of the candle hasn’t already permeated the space. But with your nose right in it, it’s stronger, sweeter and your shoulders relax even more.

“You’re such a romantic, Lockley,” You tease, placing the candle back in the bag so that you can clear a space for him to sit beside you on the couch.

“I’m limiting your burning time, these better last us until we’re dead,” He says dryly as he returns from the kitchen, bowl of food in tow.

You raise your brows in faux offense, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your face, “That means you have to limit your own burning time too.”

“I don’t light candles.”

“Yeah, alright, baby.”

“They give me headaches, I can barely tolerate the smell,” He continues, though he sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince you.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder with a cheeky smile, “I see. Is that why you went and bought…30 of them? Because they smell terrible?”

He shovels some rice into his mouth and points to his mouth as if to say he can’t speak with it full.

“You know I don’t care about seeing smooshed rice in your mouth.”

“I have manners,” He murmurs after he swallows.

“Okay, manner’s man, let me have this. Please,” You tack on at the end, gesturing your head to the bowl in his hands.

He looks at you skeptically but obliges. With the bowl now your hands you slide into his lap, tilting your head at him as you smile.

“What?”

“Thank you for buying an ungodly amount of our favorite candle.”

“Your favorite candle,” He corrects.

“Ours,” You repeat, leaning in to capture his mouth with yours.

He kisses you back, firm and demanding as always, his hand raising to cup your cheek. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, his mouth turned up just in the corner and you know you’ve won him over.

“You’re welcome, amor.”

“Are you admitting that you love the candle?”

“You don’t quit.”

“Well?”

“Yes, I like the candle. Happy?”

“Extremely. Now open up,” You demand with a grin, holding up a spoonful for him. “Please,” You add once he cocks an eyebrow at you silently— and he obliges with a grin of his own.

moonknight taglist: @angelfxllcm, @in-between-the-cafes, @honeybrowne, @ninebluehearts, @rmoonstoner, @hotchs-bitch, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @julydaydream, @welcometostayingawake, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @minigirl87

[tiajk]

Here are the black batsis head cannons

warnings: crack, Love lots of it, shitty parents, sibling bonds, things that only make sense to black people, so sad racism, your a vigal i’m this

This is one of the things you guys voted so here you

So for the sake of the plot you are very very african like you have the accent and everything (it can be whatever you imagination chooses light heavy whatever ) bruce had known you through a drug deal he had busted your father he's was selling drugs when bruce chases him all the way to your apartment your home he had found your mother overdosed your father now where to be found and you just sleeping in the room

You waking up when you feel a certain caped crusader watching you in your sleep

When gordon and the police came they took your mother to the hospital she didn't make it your father they caught him at the bar and he is going to prison for the rest of his life

Gordon knows he has a thing for kids that need a home

You had gone home with im the next day and had been apart of the batfam ever since

You had been adopted right after Jason so that made you the first girl (before he died) Dick was 17 Jason was 12 you were 11

You and dick weren’t that close because of the age gap but he made it work he visited the manor more for you and Jason like going on missions together and dropping you off to school you made fun of his red head fetish a lot tho

you and Jason were the closet because of your age but you guys shared some of the same interest reading is the most common one. something you guys do a lot is trade books you will read his stuff and he’ll read your it’s like a little book club

now you and tim were very rough at first of course you were mourning jason’s death and tim comes along it was alot,for you but you loved him no matter what

Damian….when you guys met he thought you were like everyone else unimpressive and unimportant but you treated him the same way it only lasted for a week when he saw you in the garden drawing the scenery a way to relax but you guys relate to each other the most because your both not white it’s connects you guys more

Stephanie and you were close asf she was always in love with who you are and your confidence you guys would always have girl days with cass ofc she would do you make-up a lot she wants to experiment because the boys are all the same and Damian won’t let her (unless you ask him)

now you and cass when she came to the manor she didn’t talk much and your were just fine neither that you were her voice in situations and when she started to talk you were so proud of her you always helped her no matter what

NOW U AND DUKE WERE LOCKED INN you guys are the only African-american people in the house so y’all just did things that made sense to you guys like taking your shoes off in the house, WASHING the chicken before you season it but anyways whenever the family said some where people things y’all gave each other the “I know he didn’t just say/do that” the family doesn’t understand for example one time it was your birthday your 21st birthday you had 2 of the biggest and i mean biggest party possible the first one was for bruce’s friends and all the fake bitches that were only there for money and show themselves off

the second party was for your friends and siblings like the justice leagues kids and every true friend you’ve grown to love over the years after cleaning the party you guys would hear a noise from down the hall jason and his bright mine said let’s go check it out before the rest of the fam could find you two y’all had already bolted sure you were vigilantes but you were not doing no scary shit tonight

Alfred he loved you with all his heart dont tell the others but your his favorite he teaches you how to cook his food and you can do it perfect your the only one who hasn’t and ever will get a ban from the kitchen

Bruce and you weren’t always the nicest to each other but you love each other to death your just like him a workaholic and doesn’t take brakes unless there needs to be sometimes not even Alfred can pull you away but bruce comes and carry’s you like the little girl he wish you still were you TRY and i mean TRY to teach him how to cook it’s terrible tho

Selina was like your mother too you she thought you how to be strong like nothing else you guys went on a few heist together she always listens to you when no one else does she’s always there for you

One thing that the batfam will do for any and all is protect one another from racism,villains anything

you also got flirted with a lot by wally,roy, anything that could lay there eyes on you and they all hated it

[nerdycanible1]

Hello my lovelies. Happy holidays!!

Sorry for being a bit late with your Christmas present but here I have a drawing of Lin Beifong!! I hope y’all like it!! Took me roughly 4.5 hours to complete it so I hope y’all like it.

I’m sure if we’re in any discord groups together, you’ve already heard about my evil Lin, but if you haven’t, oop- owo I won’t say anymore yet skdksjkdjskdjksjdksj

Anyways here, have a Lin Beifong. And below the line, you could read some HC’s about Linny and the holidays 🥺

Here are some hc’s I have for holiday Lin!

Lin is the type of person that would spend a lot of money getting the people she loves, presents for the holidays, but when she receives a rather expensive gift she is ready to murder you for spending that much.

Lin pretends she doesn’t care for the holidays but she does listen to what you want for the holidays. You could be mindlessly be babbling on and on about what you want or what you’ve seen and Lin always makes a mental note on it.

Her first year without Tenzin or her family, Lin had covered so many shifts during the holidays, she was given a new Sato vehicle by everyone helping in and giving it to Lin after the holidays were over. They thanked Lin, gave her a party and said she was the nicest person in the precinct, tho that was before Lin showed them other wise.

During the years, Lin always allowed her men to take the holidays off and would cover their shifts, even if it was beat cop work. She always enjoyed the way her boys perked up hearing they were allowed time off at their work.

Lin would throw a party for the people that worked during the holidays, she’d always have food ready for her men, drinks, holiday themed treats and sometimes even gifts she got for them. The gifts always included either pairs of socks, gift cards for food or even a nice bottle of whiskey.

Her boys adored Lin and knew under her hard, cold exterior she was nice and very thoughtful. It became a tradition to fill Lin’s office up with random stuff every year. One year it was fancy coats, the next turtle ducks, and so on and so forth. Though the year of the turtle ducks had to be their favorite it because Lin chased the little ducklings around making sure they weren’t squished. They’ve never seen Lin ever hold an animal but that year they saw Lin look so caring for her now new babies.

When Lin would look at her city from the roof tops, her men would take turns checking in on Lin, giving her hot chocolate breaks, snack breaks and even warming her hands up.

When Mako began his job at the precinct, he was confused on why Lin only had them do “paperwork” instead of actual police business. He was even more confused when Lin told him to shut up and party. It wasn’t until later they explained that Lin always threw a party during the holidays for the people that either don’t have families, homes or don’t celebrate the holidays. And when Lin gave Mako not only a nice coat and gloves but also a gift card to one of the best dry cleaners in the city for his scarf to make sure it’s always in good condition and cleaned.

Soon Mako got into the spirit of things at work and he loved his job more. When he and Lin grew closer and he began to see Lin as some sort of mother figure, he one day gave Lin a scarf. Everyone knew Lin would never wear such a thing but were surprised when she wore it. Now Lin and Mako matched and it was a bond.

Lin may not have a family anymore but her men were hers, they were her family and Lin couldn’t be happier.

Alright if you enjoyed that then please let me know in the comments and let me know if you want more! And as for the evil Lin thing I mentioned on top, I’ll let you know more after the holidays!! Thank you and Happy Holidays!

And here are some sketches!! All art is mine, if repost please credit. Thanks UwU

[yellobb]

Y’all I just found out about the 1904 Olympics marathon and I am losing my mind over how batshit insane it was. Buckle up y’all because this is one hell of a story

For some historical context, the 1904 Olympics were held in St. Louis and it was the first Olympics hosted in the U.S. It was paired up with the 1904 World’s Fair, so there was a hell of a lot going on in the city at the time

First, let’s meet some of our contestants:

American Thomas Hicks and four other Americans were all experienced marathoners

American Fred Lorz, who was able to compete after placing in a “special five mile race” sponsored by the Amateur Athletic Association. He did all his training at night

Ten Greeks who had never run a marathon before

Two South African men from the Tsuana tribe who were in St. Louis as part of the World’s Fair. They were apparently the first black Africans to compete in the Olympics, which is super cool. Less cool was the fact that they weren’t wearing any shoes

Cuban Félix Carbajal, a 5ft (1.5m) tall man who had fundraised his journey to the Olympics. This man got to New Orleans, lost all his money on a dice game, then had to walk and hitchhike his way to St. Louis. Mind you, that is almost 700 miles. He shows up to the race, having not eaten in 40 hours, dressed like THIS:

This man gets another bullet point because apparently his trousers were all the way down to his boots when he got there. Another Olympian took pity on him and cut them with scissors

Now for the race itself. It is in the 90s (32 degrees Celsius) and humid. For some god awful reason, they decided to start the race at 3pm, so it’s the hottest part of the day. The course is only 24.85 miles (40km) long instead of a standard 26.2, but that doesn’t mean this was an easier race. On the fucking contrary, it was hellish. I’ll let the Smithsonian article about this explain it because they do it much better than I ever could:

Now, I’ve never ran a marathon before, but I looked it up and the current recommendation is that water stations are placed every two miles.

The race is a go and things are off to a nasty start. American William Garcia almost becomes the first fatality of an Olympic event because he inhaled so much dust that his stomach was hemorrhaging. He was found unconscious by the side of the road by a local couple and had to be hospitalized. Apparently he would have bled to death if he’d been left for an hour longer.

But the dust isn’t the only issue. Apparently, Len Taunyane, one of our South African participants, gets chased a mile off course by wild dogs. He still placed 9th.

Probably my favorite participant is our boy Félix. Félix was stopping to chat with spectators in the middle of an Olympic race. At one point he stopped a car because he saw that the riders were eating peaches and asked if he could have some. They refused, but he snatched two anyway and ate them while he ran. He later came across an orchard and stopped to eat some apples, but apparently the apples were rotten, so he got stomach cramps and took a nap. HE STILL GOT FOURTH PLACE. That’s how much of a shitshow this race was, and we’re not even done.

Fred Lorz starts getting cramps around the 9-mile mark and decides to hitch a ride with one of the cars that is guiding them. He’d been leading the charge for a while and was a crowd favorite to win.

The other leader of the pack and favorite to win, Thomas Hicks, started having to use a support crew at the 10-mile mark. He was begging them for water, but they refused. He somehow managed to keep trucking along, though.

Seven miles from the finish line, Hicks’ handlers started feeding him egg whites mixed with strychnine, which is literally rat poison. There were literally no rules against performance-enhancing drugs yet, so this was apparently above-board.

Lorz gets out of the car he was riding in after 11 miles and just,,,, kept running????? He finished the race and was declared the winner. He was about to be given a gold medal when “someone called an indignant halt to the proceedings with the charge that Lorz was an imposter.” Lorz claimed it was all a joke and that he wouldn’t have actually accepted the award, but was still banned from competing in future marathons. That is, of course, until this decision was overturned in time for him to run in and win the Boston Marathon the next year.

Now Hicks had seen Lorz pass by. He was not doing too hot at all, but finding out that Lorz had been disqualified and he was still in the lead helped his motivation. He was given another dose of egg whites and strychnine with some brandy to wash it down, which, sure. Why the fuck not at this point?

At this point, he began to hallucinate. He started to believe that he had 20 more miles left to go instead of just two. He kept begging for food and rest, but his handlers just gave him more brandy and two more egg whites because of course he was. By the time he made it to the finish line, he was literally being carried by his handlers while his feet shuffled, but that was apparently good enough and he was declared the winner.

It took four doctors and a full hour for Hicks to recover enough to even leave the area after the race. He apparently lost eight fucking pounds during the course of the race. Hicks pretty much retired from racing after that (I wonder why) and became a professional clown, which really is just the cherry on top

Of the 32 people who competed in the race, only 14 finished. After everything, they literally almost removed the marathon as an Olympic event because it was deemed “indefensible on any ground but historic,” and honestly? After reading all that fuckery, I can’t even blame them.

Another note about Félix, because this man baffles me: apparently he was sponsored by the Greek government to compete in a 1906 marathon in Athens, but he never turned up. Newspapers in Cuba claimed he died, but he just??? Showed up a year later in Havana perfectly fine. Turns out he managed to get the date of the marathon wrong.

Sources:

[slvttyplum]

ೀ jjk men with songs from my playlist.

this an old draft.

nanami: earned it (weeknd) & kiss it better (riri)

- mm dripping thinking about it

- he’s literally these songs

- but will he fuck you to these?

- yes no question

- put down the pitchforks

- “what are you willing to do?” right! but he’s willing to do a lot for you

- “you’re always worth it.” you’re worth all his time, call him and he’s answering first ring.

satoru: sex, money, feelings die (lykke li) & fetish (selena gomez)

- sex, money, feelings die is my fave song

- anyways

- “baby don’t you cry.” this lyric is so him

- this song just reminds me of him

- “you got a fetish for my love.” both of you feed off each other

- “i push you out and you come right back.” he can’t leave for long and neither can you

- your love for him is a drug and so is yours

- he’s addicted to you.

suguru: little bit (lykke li) & ivy (frank ocean)

- little bit just screams suguru

- “i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

- that song plays every-time he enters the room

- “and for you i keep my legs apart, and forget about my tainted heart.” UGH!!

- all your worries, breakups, open wounds slip away when he’s with you

- touching you, feeding you words of comfort.

- ivy is so him. stsg

- “i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me.” he’s never felt as much love from anyone but you

- “if you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces.” he’s never not thinking about you

- you’re always on his mind.

- the overall song is just… yeah

toji: twisted (two feet) & child’s play (drake)

- the first song doesn’t have many lyrics to go off of

- but i can imagine fucking him to this

- child’s play is toji in a nutshell but reversed.

- “i took my key and tried to hide it so you can’t find it and out on mileage… then you find it awkward silence.”

- this lyric is so funny to me cause just imagine trying to hide your keys from toji and he finds it and you’re both just looking at each other saying nothing.

- “don’t make me give you back to the hood.”

- you threaten this man every-time that you’ll kick him out if he don’t get his shit together

- “took you from the hood and i could never give you back.” sums up the entire relationship, you threaten him but in your heart you know you can never give him up.

choso: meddle about (chase atlantic) & les (childish gambino)

- yall knew a chase atlantic song was going to be up here

- “we only met each other just the other day, but you already got me feeling some type of way.”

- the two of you were love at first sight, he looked good, you looked good, why can’t two good looking people get together?

- “cause it’s not just a figure of speech you got me down on my knees.” HELL YEAH!!

- he’s down bad for you, more ways than one.

- les gives me toxic choso i can’t explain it

- “we’re kissing in the bathroom… i hope nobody catch us.” he KNOWS y’all not supposed to be messing around but he can’t get enough

- “cause either way, we both lying more than half of the time.” see what i mean??

- maybe i’m projecting but choso being toxic when???

- i need it

- anyways definitely

[payattentiontothescreen]

Bridgerton Rewatch S1E3 - Art of the Swoon

Hey y'all. Sorry for the delay on this one, grad school is taking over my life. Here we go!

This episode starts with Daphne’s dream sequence and I’m gonna take a second to give some love to the camera department. Beyond the cinematography (which is amazing and shouldn’t be devalued), getting those shots must have been a pain in the ass. POV shots are not easy to get, especially when they’re close-ups on a person’s face. Those close-up POVs of Simon and Daphne dancing must have taken some EFFORT and I salute the cam ops for getting it so smoothly.

We have made it to my biggest problem with this season. George Crane was on the front lines fighting in Spain. How did it not occur to ANYONE that he might be dead? Like, they immediately jumped to “actually he hates you and wants nothing to do with your child.” I’m sorry WHAT??? He’s at war and that’s the ONLY conclusion you jump to???? It bugs me a lot, in case you couldn’t tell.

Portia wants Marina to dress in the family colors. What are those colors? There is very little consistency in the Featheringtons’ wardrobes, which says a lot about their lack of cohesion as a family. But there’s pinks, greens, yellows, all kinds of colors that almost never match.

I love the parlor scenes at the Bridgerton house. They all have such good chemistry as a family. That’s a major strength of this season that the second season doesn’t have as much.

I remember watching this the first time and thinking Prince Friedrich looked vaguely familiar but I didn’t know why. Imagine how shocked I was when I realized that I was watching Adrian Chase be a Regency-era Prussian prince. Freddie Stroma is so talented, my god.

Couples that mock together, stay together. You can see that with the way Daphne and Simon are making fun of Cressida and Friedrich.

Jumping ahead a bit to the stove scene. It is so funny that titled members of society have no practical skills. This is a theme of how the class system works, even to this day. Not having basic life skills is basically a status symbol when you have a certain amount of money. They are out of touch, obviously, but Anthony and Daphne being fictional characters in a historical setting makes it easier to laugh at.

Madame Delacroix is not dumb. She definitely knows that Marina is pregnant. I think her acting in this scene with the knowing glances and everything kind of bolsters the idea that she could be Lady Whistledown. I know she isn’t but if I didn’t, I could see how she would be the main suspect further down the line.

So I’m one of those weirdos who likes knowing why shitty people are that way. I really hope we learn more about Cressida and her background in the next season. Like, beyond just entitlement, how does someone turn into…that?

We’re at the gallery now. I think it’s nice when the Bridgertons get to participate in things as a unit. Most of the plot happens during events that are exclusive to people who are out in society, which leaves Eloise (in this season), Gregory, and Hyacinth out. It’s great to see them interact with the larger world because they add so much texture to it. That being said, Gregory and Hyacinth showed up to that gallery to cause problems on PURPOSE!

I love it when Marina is bitchy to shitty old men. They deserve it.

I know that Benedict has very little regard for society but I love watching him participate in it. This is a bigger thing in the scene with him, Lady Danbury, and Henry Granville. Benedict has so much charisma but it doesn’t align with society’s rules and expectations. I can’t wait to see him take center stage.

I had a note to talk about the blocking in the scene where Daphne and Simon are alone in the gallery together but I don’t remember what my thoughts were on that. If I think of it, I’ll add it somewhere but lmk if y’all have thoughts.

Benedict getting frustrated with drawing hands is hilarious to me. I’m not an artist, I can’t draw for shit. However, from what I’ve heard from my friends who are artists, hands are notoriously difficult to draw. So Benedict beating himself up over drawing hands is the most realistic thing in this episode and it kills me.

The fight between Daphne and Eloise reveals a lot about Eloise’s main flaw. During the fight, Daphne has this line, “You never see things from my perspective,” and that’s true. Eloise never sees things from other people’s perspectives. She’s constantly on some crusade that doesn’t take into account how other people around her might be affected. I’m really looking forward to her chilling out a bit.

Simon laughing at how little mothers tell their daughters has a bit of a sinister tinge once he and Daphne get married. He exploits that, to a certain extent.

Phoebe Dynevor (I learned how to spell, wow) is such a trooper for staying in character during that sex education lesson. If Regé-Jean Page was explaining masturbation that close to my face, I’d waste the whole shoot day just cracking up.

Another queer-coded sibling smoke break. Them talking about Lady Whistledown is interesting. Eloise says that LWD has to hide her identity because she’s a woman. While this is true, it’s not the reason. Benedict responds by saying that if people knew who she was, she’d be strung up for what she said, which is the real reason. And Eloise does prove this right. I don’t know what other people think, but I’m of the opinion that, no matter when she found out, Eloise would react the same way to Penelope being LWD. The rage and hurt compounds over the two seasons, but I think it would have been there regardless.

This show really emphasizes the importance of fem pleasure, but I have so many thoughts about it that it needs to be a separate post.

Simon breaking it off with Daphne is some of the most textbook fear-of-commitment dialogue in the world. I have heard basically the same monologue from so many people in my actual life, it drives me crazy.

The entire cast is insanely talented but one thing stands out. The absolute best acting in this show is Jonathan Bailey acting straight. If you didn’t know that he’s gay, you’d never be able to guess.

So we’ve made it to the forged letter scene. I have 2 things to say about this one. First of all, Ruby Barker absolutely slays. I’ve watched this show so many times and I will always feel her pain. It’s so powerful. The other thing, Lady Featherington has a bit of a projection problem. She has such a miserable marriage that she can’t fathom that George might truly love Marina. Also, again, jumping straight to dismissal instead of being killed in action. I can’t believe I’m defending men right now but, especially in this universe, jumping straight to abandonment seems like projecting more than an actual conclusion.

I’m gonna condense my last few notes into one bullet because they’re all about the ball at the end of the episode. Daphne comes into the ballroom with a face card that never declines, everybody’s staring at her, classic. The way I interpret Friedrich’s behavior in this scene boils down to he was never actually interested in Cressida. I don’t know, something about this whole thing just makes me feel like Cressida was a pretty convenience. The other thing is Simon. Obviously, Simon gets crazy jealous and dips, but there’s something about the shot of the dance floor as he leaves that I never noticed. Penelope watches Simon leave. Not only that, Penelope is the ONLY ONE who watches him leave while everyone else watches the dancing. If that’s not a hint that she’s LWD, I don’t know what is. 

Managed to get everything into one part this time. There might be a gap in posting again but I will do my best to get through the whole series before season 3 comes out.

Hope you're having a good day <3

[raksh-writes]

In diamonds and leather

Fandom: Kinnporsche the series (2022)

Pairing: VegasPete

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy AU, older!Vegas, younger!Pete, businessman!Vegas, college student!Pete, Dom/sub

Been feeling a great need for a Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy AU for VegasPete but since there doesn’t seem to be any and I’ve had this rattling around my brain for months, here’s a lil’ preview snippet. Might make it into an actual fic one day, who knows. For now, hope y’all will enjoy  this small thing 💗

.

At thirty years old, Vegas is pretty sure most would say he has it all.

Lucrative business in luxury markets earning him more than he could ever spend? Certainly. A sprawling penthouse at the top floor with the overview of the city some would kill for? Hm, yes, the view is nice, that he can admit. A wardrobe full of silk shirts, suits tailored to perfection, italian leather shoes and watches glinting gold in the light? He should probably get rid of half of them, to be honest. Expensive cars and sleek bikes he’s imported himself? Probably one too many than he should be keeping, but the speed and freedom they give him are one of the only joys Vegas still has left in life because:

What’s even the point?

His father is long dead and buried, no longer a whip of disgust and derision over Vegas’ back and bruised face, no longer sneering over every aspect of his life and chasing him from one deal to another until he barely had any time or will to live for himself. So long he’s lived under his father’s orders, so long he’s lived only to take care of his little brother, but now Gun is dead and Macau’s safe and happy in university, living on his own and surrounded by friends, and Vegas? With his thriving businesses, his expensive clothes, fast bikes and more money than he knows what to do with? Well...

At the end of the day, as he sits down in his favorite armchair after hours full of taking care of his various businesses, as he looks over the city, Vegas can’t help the questions creeping over his mind, relentless and bleak. What now? What’s the point? You have it all and you’re not doing anything with it. You should be ashamed of yourself. No drive, no ambition, not knowing what to do with yourself. How can you even look at yourself in the mirror? Pathetic. More often than not a note of his father’s sneer sneaking through the disembodied voice of his thoughts. And it’s the pitiful truth, unfortunately. 

Somewhere along the time of his newfound freedom, Vegas found a carved out void behind his ribs, echoing and endless in its numbness. No amount of too-fast bike rides, of throwing away money at random charities, of high-end balls and lucrative deals could ever even attempt to fill it, not even sex he used to find reprieve in proved successful.

Long gone are days when he went out to pick up random twinks at clubs with music loud enough to drown out his thoughts — they’re too loud now, setting his teeth on edge, the young things too eager and shallow, the sex barely a spark hot enough to do it for him. Even the times he decides to take a sub at one of the few BDSM places he sometimes visits leaves him feeling more hollow than fulfilled in the mornings. It barely scratches the itch that manages to rear its head from time to time — the need to see a pretty boy ruined under his palms. It’s nice, the moment it happens, but then the void howls behind his sternum and his jaw aches from the force he clenches it with, a traitorous whisper of what’s the point? bouncing inside his skull. Vegas doesn’t have the answer and the rope he’s threading is quickly coming to an abrupt end.

Then it comes, from the most unexpected place Vegas couldn’t have ever predicted.

An app. A simple message.

A struggling college student with big dreams and sunshine smile.

Soft-cheeked, with barely any experience and melting under Vegas’ hands like he’s been made for it, made for Vegas. For him and him only. And Vegas shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t.

It’s not about money, he could shower the pretty boy with far more than he’d ever need and still not make a dent in his account. It’s not about chemistry too, because to be frank, it actually sparks way too high and bright between them. And it’s not for the lack of time either  — at this point in his life, Vegas has more of it than he has responsibilities on most days. The thing is—

Vegas is not suited to take on a fresh sub. To train someone completely new to kink in the way he prefers his partners. He has no experience with that, always took on twinks either versed in the lifestyle or he’d disregard his more sadistic preferences for a night of simpler, rough sex. It’s been good enough, he tells himself, it was, but—

Pete looks up at him with his huge, teary eyes, mouth parted and bottom lip glistening under Vegas’ thumb and the long-slumbering beast in his chest awakens, uncurling in the void with teeth bared and bloodlust on its tongue. Vegas wants, and he wants so deeply and viciously it almost scares him well enough to refuse this pretty siren of a boy. Almost.

He looks at Pete on his knees and his brain stutters with countless images.

With Pete’s cupid-bow lips stretched over his cock. With Pete shackled to his bed and writhing in the binds while Vegas takes him again and again and again. Not letting him come or wringing out orgasm after orgasm until he's a crying, wrecked mess unable to even speak. With Pete in pretty lingerie and a rosy blush spread over the apple of his cheeks. With Pete’s brilliant smile peeking out from around a glass of champagne, a speck of chocolate on his lips. With Pete on the back of his bike or spread over the leather upholstery in one of his sports cars. With Pete spent and boneless and sated in his arms, warm and smiling and whispering his name like a prayer.

Vegas wants and, for the first time in years, his mind doesn’t poison his mind with the bleak whispers of what’s the point? Because this—

This might just be the whole entire point. Pete, happy and satisfied, in Vegas’ arms. Smiling like he means it.