#safe now from raybans...

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD

STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS

picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health

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“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”

jeremy u flirt

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do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?

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oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10

if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.

if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.

i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.

sending lots of love to all of u

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wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?

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It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.

fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene

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Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”

jean moreau u are so loved

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“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE

ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING

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Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him

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betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug

and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-

“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.

CHAPTER TWELVEE

dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading

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“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.

king is fed uppp

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“It’s not about size, anyway.” ​“Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. ​Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U

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“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”

GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN

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“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”

now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact

“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,

this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash

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“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” ​“Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”

NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP

YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON

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CHAPTER 13333

jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him

meanwhile jean:

Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.

sureee buddy

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They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.

well that is definitely an outfit!

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“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”

EXCUSE ME

this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships

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ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER

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‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’

uhhhhh…

i don’t know how to tell u this buddy

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dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy

chapter 14!!!

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Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” ​Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” ​Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.

oh jean we’ll get there eventually

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Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.

OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE

MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR

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SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”

-

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”

“Neither am I.”

TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST

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everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept

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kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life

they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” ​“I will wait as long as it takes,”

“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”

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“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. ​“Obsessed,” Jeremy

exy fiend kevin day representation

also

“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil

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She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.

this is the love jean deserves

chapter 15:

“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”

jean i love u

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Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,

he’s so me

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“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR

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i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:

due to egregious injuries.” ​Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.

it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character

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“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. ​“Denied,” White said.

SCREAMING

THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT

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JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT

catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u

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jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world

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So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.

oh god don’t do this to me

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Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.

beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate

A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.

A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS

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SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO

“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”

starting off strong

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You’re one of my kids now.

don’t mind me i’m just sobbing

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no no no no no no no no no

holy shit no what the fucking fuck

don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now

actually dreading reading on right now

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um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read

i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing

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Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” ​“I do not want you to look.” ​It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,

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only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him

chapter 17 the finale:

feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book

please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau

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nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???

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i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007

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jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god

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“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?

stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?

stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i

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Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”

NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER

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Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.

devouring these scraps about my boy

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YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY

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Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day

- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us

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The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”

oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book

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“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”

to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together

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“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”

my hero

Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,

i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph

Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” ​“Shut up and get in the car.”

i wish neil josten was real

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He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT

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Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”

he’s everything to me 🥰

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“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.

and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”

- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn

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ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope

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“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”

oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud

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“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”

THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE

all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon

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i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do

best friends ❤️

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jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him

A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS

!!!!!

I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK

[shinesurge]

In light of having to perform estate management via archaeological dig through my estranged father's disgusting shambles of a house (and after several spooky events of our own) my partner and I have been revisiting the idea of a User Manual for each of us in case something happens and I thought I'd put it out here in case it helps someone else.

On paper, nothing digital, a giant list of all your maintained accounts of any kind and their login information, insurances, healthcare portals, even your game subscriptions, anything that will come looking for you and need dealing with if you disappear. The passcode to your phone, how to get through the 2FA for any of your emails or your paypal. Where the spare key is, how to pick up the mail (and where THAT key is), what utility bills you pay each month and how to keep those up, how the trash collection works, where your vital documents/social security cards/deeds and titles are (if stored separately from this list, I'd keep these all together in your Safe Document Location but do you). Who to contact and inform of your death, if anyone. Weird particular shit; in my case, every time I've ever gone in for a spooky procedure I've told at least two people how to get into my comic site and post a news update if something goes wrong lmao. How to get into your Facebook and set it to their grossass Memorial thing so it doesn't get hacked and tag your friends in Rayban ads for years after you're gone.

This isn't a will or a legal document obviously, you're just trying to make things easier for whoever is close enough to be handling this shit if you can't for whatever reason. You don't ever realize how impossible it would be to untangle your life if you suddenly needed someone else to do it; I've been estranged from my dad for years but this has been exquisitely frustrating, and if I was grieving or worried sick on top of it I don't know how I'd be handling it tbh. Whether it's "my partner who usually does certain things is incapacitated and I suddenly have to run the house by myself" or "my person is dead and now i'm stuck trying to figure out how to deal with all of their loose ends" this sort of planning is a really kind thing you can do for people close to you. And yourself tbh, I remember having to weakly explain to my spouse how to get into the fucking health portal from my hospital bed immediately before emergency surgery, it's dumb and frustrating and it's the last kind of thing you want to deal with during a stressful time. A great big instruction manual, and keep it in your safe or your filing cabinet or whatever your physical collection of important sensitive shit looks like. Even if it's not an exhaustive list or it falls a bit out of date it's certainly better than nothing.

[sheriff-callahan]

Name: Arthur ‘Art, Fart’ Callahan Age: 47 years old. Birthdate: Apr. 10th, 1975                                      ☼ Aries                                      ☾  Aries                                      ↗ Taurus Born: Lockwood Springs, CO Occupation: Larimer County Sheriff Aesthetics: 6ft2. Hawaiian Shirts, Flannel.                     Whiskey flasks. RayBans.                      Country rock. Likes: Being left alone, not having to work, Sunday mornings, radio crackles, sleeping with socks on but nothing else. Dislikes: Not being left alone, having to work, PAPERWORK, Sunday evenings, when radio crackle silences are broken. Sleeping clothed without socks on. Good Qualities: Protective, Courageous, Realistic Bad Qualities: Gruff, Lazy, Indifferent Orientation: Straight, but pretty much asexual.

if there’s one man who hates his job, it’s arthur callahan and it’s probably also why his nickname is sheriff fart among the few criminals he’s arrested.

he was born and raised in lockwood springs.

his father, donald callahan was the sheriff and also arthur’s biggest hero. he wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up.

turns out, that was a load of bullshit and his dad was actually a horrendous person. he only discovered donald’s abusive nature towards his mother when he was 29 and already working in law enforcement. 

finally, when arthur was deputy he approached unsavory connections and promised to turn a blind eye to things they did if they helped him out with his father. 

in unrelated news, donald callahan is now cared for in a hospice and is wheelchair bound and can’t speak. arthur visits every so often because he is a very doting son and the accident was just so tragic!!

since becoming the sheriff, arthur’s passion for seeing justice prevail has completely died. in a way his sense of good vs bad disappeared and he believes everybody is bad.

despite being super bitter about the world and his job, he’s a very funny sheriff and usually lets people go with a warning. this is because he doesn’t see the point in damning people for stupid mistakes, but he also absolutely does not want to have to do overtime or any paperwork.

he drinks himself stupid every single night. 

he was married for a short while and has two kids but arthur and his ex-wife are now divorced. he’s a focused father, adores his boy and girl dearly. 

takes bribes from both the mafia and the MC and doesn’t really care about the feud or if it starts up again. just wants an easy life and to do the least amount of work to get by.

will do anything to protect those he loves, and honestly that means anything. a few citizens probably have stories about how he’s done something insanely illegal, abhorrent or violent to keep them safe. 

literally wonders how he’s still sheriff every single day, and thinks about quitting every single day.

[change-your-profie-pic]

we’ve been hacked!

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment/beheading, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: i told y'all there's more <3 the special character treat is for @sarge-barnes-sir mwah!

this is queued shdhhsh gonna fix the links in the mornin’

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS ABOVE, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS VERSION, GO AND CHECK OUT THE NON-EXPLICIT VERSION.

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

So you stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walks into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Starting with his left shoulder, you jab the knife between the bone and the soft flesh of his armpit, bringing the blade downwards. The sickening smell of blood swirled along with the image of muscle and fat being sliced made you gag.

Does the brain know that it’s seeing something it shouldn’t?

A rational part of you wanted to look away but the time is ticking, it’ll be much harder once rigor mortis sets in an hour.

You swing the knife down, cracking the bone once, and then again, and again, and again until the shoulder bone splinters and dislocates itself from the rest of Bucky’s torso. You had to switch knives and blades and a fucking bone saw to get through the rest of his limbs, leaving only his chest, head, and stomach untouched. After taping up and packing the arms and the legs, you work on putting the rest of Bucky into a nondescript suitcase.

The only problem being his head getting into the way of things.

Wanting to preserve even a shred of his dignity, you left his face untouched. Well, save from the crack in his skull.

You begrudgingly take a hefty chef’s knife and start cutting through the jugular vein, only stopping when the blade hits the spinal cord by his nape. The serrated blade of the bone saw sits on your blood-soaked gloves, scrape-scrape-scraping until it snaps into two.

The human head weighs around 10 pounds, kinda like a bowling ball.

An opaque black garbage bag containing Bucky’s head looks nothing suspicious as you put it inside a backpack—into a firepit you go.

His limbs—arms and legs alike—are going deep into the ocean, forgotten and to be used as fish food.

The limbless torso will be finding its home in a deep hole in the middle of a densely wooded area, far from the city.

But you’re not quite sure what to do with the mason jar of teeth though; the clinking noises of it remind you of the seashells you used to collect when you were a kid. Maybe you’ll stash it away with the torso.

Placing the bags into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale.

The drive to and from the places was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and went straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!reader

Requested by @shanetoo​ / Summary: You’re the pogue princess, aka John B’s little sister, and Rafe has fallen head over heels for you. How will Rafe react to his newfound feelings, especially when he sees you as Kie’s date to the Midsummer party?

A/N: You’re John B’s twin in this one. I hope you guys like it! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural (I’m only up to season 2, so please don’t request something with spoilers)**

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix):

John B Routledge

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“Hey it’s the pogue princess.” Rafe announces as he walks up to the bar at the country club.

You roll your eyes at his nickname for you as you walk up to the bar, “What would you like Mr. Cameron?”

He leans against the bar, “bourbon, neat.”

You nod and begin making it. Remembering what your brother told you, you knew kooks were horrible people, but this was your work and you had to be nice to them, especially if you want to keep your job. You knew the Kooks were supposed to be the world’s worst, but Rafe was always nice to you. You really had no idea why, so in return you were nice too. Plus he was handsome with his hair slicked back and raybans around his neck. “How’d you do today?”

“Shot a 92. Better than last weekend.” He glances over his shoulder, Topper and Kelce would be in here soon and he didn’t want this conversation to end. This is what he looked forward to every weekend. He’d play a round of golf, then come in here and get a drink and talk with you while Topper and Kelce went to the locker room to change. It was the only safe place he knew he could talk to you without it being questioned.

You nod, “Yeah you shot… what a 117 last weekend?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “it wasn’t a good day on the greens.”

You laugh a little and slide the drink over to him, “$8.50.” (really not sure if that’s a good price for a bourbon at a country club?? Lmao)

He hands over a $20 bill, “Put the rest in the tip.” He gives you quick wink and takes a sip of his drink, “You always make the best.” Pointing at the drink he walks out to the back patio where Topper and Kelce were waiting.

~

You were John B’s little sister, he knew that. He shouldn’t feel this way toward you, a kook, but you can’t help who you fall for. Why was there the pogues vs kooks anyways? He wished it was nonexistent so he wouldn’t have to worry about someone finding out about his feelings for you. You felt the same way about him, but he was a kook. John B and the pogues would kill you if they knew about your feelings for the kook king, Rafe Cameron. You wished they would at least give him a chance.

“Please come with me?” Kie begs. She’d asked you to be her date to the Midsummer’s party, but you were supposed to work the party.

“Kie, I’m working the party.”

“Take off for the night, they have plenty of bartenders working that night.”

You sigh before agreeing, “I don’t have anything to wear though.”

“It’s a good thing you have my closet!” She motions to her closet, “let’s pick you out something.”

~

Kie fixed your hair and your make up. You’d chosen a slim baby pink dress and a pair of wedges. She slipped a pretty flower in your hair, “There. You look gorgeous!”

She turns you around in the chair so you can see yourself in the mirror and you didn’t even recognize yourself. You weren’t a pogue tonight, you were a kook. “Thank you, Kie.” You smile, “I love it.”

“Let’s go see what the pogues think.” You and Kie descend down the stairs where the pogues are waiting. JJ is in his serving tux, John B was helping Pope and his dad with the grill and was dressed in shorts and black shirt, matching with Pope.

John B looks around your shoulder, “Does anyone know where my sister went?”

You roll your eyes and hit him in the chest, “Asshole.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder, “You love me! Now just because you’re going to this party with Kie, doesn’t make you a kook. So, no boys, especially kook boys. Me and the boys will be watching you.” He does the finger motion with his eyes.

You groan, “Seriously, John B? I’m literally only a few minutes younger than you. I don’t need a chaperon.”

“Gotta keep an eye out for my baby sister. Sorry not sorry.” He gives a shrug.

~

The first place he went to when he arrived with his family was the bar, but you weren’t in sight. He could have sworn you told him you’d be working the party. It honestly put him in a bad mood. He stood with Kelce and Topper, sipping his drink, when Topper tapped him in the chest, pointing behind Rafe, “Isn’t that Routledge’s sister?”

Rafe turned around so quick and there you were, walking arm and arm with Kie. He’d only ever seen you a couple times outside of the bar and that was at the boneyard, but even then, you were in your country club uniform, coming straight from work.

“Dude, she looks hot.” Topper comments, “I didn’t know a pogue could look like that.”

Rafe’s fingers tightened around his glass, “Topper, shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just saying. I bet you I can get her to come home with me tonight.” Topper laughs.

“You’re with my sister remember?” Rafe snaps, “There’s no you trying to get her to come home with you tonight.” Rafe watched as you and Kie made your way through the crowd, dancing to the music. You’d caught the eyes of a few other kooks. They were already looking your way. He throws the rest of his drink back and starts heading your way, but another guy has beat him to it. He decides against it and heads back to the bar.

You had glanced around for Rafe but still hadn’t spotted him, so you decided one dance with this one guy wouldn’t hurt. After the song ended, you were quick to slip away from the guy, “I’m going to find my friend.”

His grip tightened, “Come on, let me take you inside?”

“I’m good-”

“She said she’s good man. back off.” Rafe gives the guy a little shove and the guy lets go of you, rolling eyes before walking off.

You look up at Rafe and he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “Thanks for that.”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah of course.” He flashes his signature smile, “I thought you were working tonight.”

“Kie invited me so I got someone else to cover my shift.”

He nods, “Well, you look beautiful.”

You blush, glancing down at your dress and then back at him, “Didn’t know I could wear anything else besides khaki’s and a white polo, did you?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “No.”

You laugh, “It’s Kie’s. I didn’t have anything nice to wear.”

“It looks great on you.” He runs his hand over his chin and then scratches the back of his neck, “I um better go. Dinner should start be starting soon.”

You nod, “Yeah. I better go find Kie.”

The two of you part ways. He goes and sits with his family, you go to sit with Kie and her family.

~

Soon after dinner, the Cameron’s are asked to speak and then Ward takes Rose to the dance floor to dance. Topper does the same thing with Sarah and Rafe stands off to the side. He hadn’t brought a date, didn’t really care too.

You watch the Cameron’s, talking quietly with Kie, saying how pretty Rose dress was and that’s when you see Rafe standing over to the side. He didn’t have a date to dance with?

He knows he looks stupid up here while his whole family is having some dance with their partners, so his eyes start to scan the crowd, and there at a back table was you. He could see you and Kie leaned in close, talking over the music. He knew he was probably going to get looks for this, but at this moment he didn’t care. Screw the pogues vs kooks. Screw the kooks. Screw what people would think. He wants to dance with you. He makes his way across the dancefloor and straight to you at the table. He holds his hand out to you, giving a smile, “Would you like to dance?”

People around you gasped, especially the kook girls surrounding you. You were a pogue and Rafe picked you out of the crowd to dance with?

You know people were looking, especially your brother and pogues, but you didn’t care. Screw them. Your hand fits into his and you smile, “I’d love too..” Standing from your seat, he leads you to the middle of the dancefloor, pulling you close. Your hand is in his, the other on his shoulder and his other hand is on your lower back.

“People are staring.” You whisper, glancing around.

“Let them stare. They’re just jealous of you.” He whispers back. His forehead goes to yours and both of you close your eyes in content, as the two of you sway to the music. Your brother was going to kill you.

As the song ends, there’s some clapping for Ward and Rose, but you and Rafe don’t pull away as quickly as the rest.

“Want to get out of here?” He asks, pulling away to look at you.

Biting your lip, you nod, “My brother is going to kill me.”

He chuckles, “Don’t worry I’ll protect you.” He leads you away from the party and toward the beach. Slipping off your heels, the two of you start across the beach.

“Y/n Routledge!” You glance back to see John B making his way out to the beach after you, anger written all over his face.

“Shit!” You and Rafe laugh as you two break into a run, heading toward the parking lot, leaving John B in the dust. Rafe pulls you through the line of cars and straight for the tree lines. He puts you between him and the tree and puts a finger to his lips. You hold back a giggle as you hear John B yell again.

He laughs quietly looking down at you. Suddenly, it’s like the world stopped turning. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and gets lost in your eyes. The two of you are breathing heavily, looking into each other’s eyes, but he doesn’t lean in.

“Kiss me, you fool.” You whisper, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him to you, pressing your lips against yours.

He kisses back passionately before finally pulling away for air, “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks,” He whispers against your lips.

Both of you smile into the kiss and you nod, “I was getting tired of asking about your golf game. I didn’t care.”

He chuckles, “I hate bourbon. It’s the only drink I could think about when I saw you a couple weeks ago and you asked what I wanted.” He then pulls you back into a kiss.

Your brother was definitely going to kill you.

Obx taglist:  @emmalvei-blog​ , @tregua-oca​ , @weirdbiwitch​ , @losers-club6​ , @treestarrrrrrrr​​ , @omgwhattheeven​​ , @normatural​​ , @lreincarnationl​​ , @laurenron​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @beth-winchester21​ , @divcrdown​ , @timotaychalabae​ , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @tangledinsparkles​ , @prejudic3​ , @lanarichards5  @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ , @fratboystark​ , @nas-marie-loves-u​ , @sunwardsss , @annedub​ , @jellyfishbeansontoast​ , @turtlee-says-rawr​,

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Can you do one wherein tom meets his girlfriends 2 year old child from a previous relationship for the first time?

A/N: oh my, I love involving children bc that’s just the cutest thing ever!! 🥺🥺🥺 so here it is, darling and as always, stay safe 💖💗

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

Tom never felt this stressed in a long time. Since early this morning, he frantically runs around his complex apartment, coming and going in his bedroom and bathroom tones of times like his life was depending on it.

Today, Tom is finally going to meet (Y/N)’s two-year-old child, Mia, for the first time.

When you both started dating eight months ago, Tom wasn’t really expecting you to be already a mother as both of you were not thirty yet and pretty much single. But when you got more and more serious about your relationship, feeling you could trust each other enough about anything, you gathered all your courage and revealed to Tom about your past relationship. And what came with.

And Tom couldn’t stop but grew even more fond of you after that. How could your ex just leave you after founding out about your pregnancy and let you raise a child by yourself? But as much as Tom wanted to find that douchebag to place a punch in his face, he just admired how you managed all this beautifully, like the strong woman he learnt to know day by day.

So when you showed him pictures of your baby girl, Tom’s instinct has now as its number one priority to protect both of you. And today was the d day.

“Oof, that thing’s way too strong...” says Tom, not convinced by his first choice of cologne, soon putting the bottle back in place. “Don’t need any.”

All kind of emotions mix in his head, going from excitement to fear. He wanted to be perfect and impress you and Mia but the thought of messing everything up never left his mind. What if Mia didn’t like him at all? And what would you do if that ever happen?

Tom stops and grabs the sink, leaning slowly over it. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath in for a few seconds before exhaling loudly, hoping to calm his nerves. After a minute or so, Tom finally stares back at his reflexion in the mirror, a serious but still relaxed look now on his face.

“Be your usual self, Thomas. Come on.”

After choosing to wear a white button ups shirt with light blue jeans and nice trainers, Tom makes his way out, his RayBan’s on and drives to your meeting location, the park at ten minutes away from his house. Once parked, he enters the park to see lots of people walking around and playing on the grass.

“Tom! Right here!”

Tom instantly recognises your beautiful voice, soon finding you without problem. Here you are, sitting on a blanket on the shadow of a big tree, a little girl playing just in front of you.

Tom gulps and with determined steps, walks towards you both. You stand smiling, revealing an elegant floral midi dress and white trainers, as you advance towards the kid to draw her attention. Finally there, Tom welcomes you in a long and loving embrace, even sharing a light kiss before you stand back and turn to the little girl.

“Mia, come here baby” you call her, extending a hand for her to grab.

The little girl takes it, looking at Tom with her big eyes that are the same as yours. Mia advances in front of both adults, while grabbing the edge of her cute pink and white polka dots dress in her tiny fist and curly hair bouncing around her round face.

“Baby, this is Tom, mommy’s dearest friend. Say hi?”

“Hi...” mumbles the little girl, still shy.

Tom crotches in front of Mia, the smile never leaving his face as he notices all features that look like yours. Now he was even more determined to protect you both at all cost.

“Hello darling, I’m Tom” begins the boy with his usual joyful voice, then catches the sight of a ball Mia was playing with before he arrived.

Tom brings the ball to him, making it roll on the grass and then taking it in his hands, still looking at the little girl.

“Wanna play?”

Needless to say that by the end of the day, little Mia was literally enamoured with Tom just like her mum was, all three laughing and playing together in the park this afternoon like a perfect family.

Tom was now in heaven. He will do anything to protect his family.

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[chibinekochan]

Some people have probably seen it but my blog was affected by the rayban hack.

I changed my pw and from what I can tell nothing else was changed but be careful.

Don't click on it.

I didn't click on it and still got affected somehow so stay safe.

Don't click on Rayban!

I got two factor authentication now and changed my pw.

[dsmroleplay]

#TheBirthOfChaos #DSM #SOA #Mayans #RP Part Two

Written by: @HackerSister @InkedPrincessMC @ReyesAtHeartMC @BikersRose @InkedWithPetals @EZReyesDSM @ReyesMayans @AShotOfAPatch

Juana "Juice" Ortiz: Juice groaned at the sound of her phone buzzing at the table beside her head. It was too fucking early and didn't people know she had a fucking hangover.

The patch party for the new San Bernadino prospect lasted well into the next morning. And Juice was feeling the weight of it. In and on her head. Groaning she swipes the message open and reads the text. #Bishop? It took her a minute to register the Santo Padre Prez name. "Fuck," she muttered to herself. She popped the tab of her favorite Red Bull flavor, dragon fruit, and opened her laptop on the table. Santo Padre needed to update its firewall. It was way too easy to hack into their traffic cams.

She watched as a dark van pulled through a light near the corner a block from the clubhouse of the Santo Padre charter. It would be sus on any other day but the day a charter president goes missing multiplied that by a thousand.

After zooming in on the plates she runs a trace. It would take a couple hours for the results. Just enough time for me to haul her ass down south. She turns on her mobile hotspot, to keep shit going while she drives. Then tuck everything safely in her saddlebags.

Hopefully the early ass time of day would mean traffic would be at a minimum.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nikki Lowman: I was riding back from Charming from seeing my father, I had just stopped at the gas station to fuel back up to get me back to Santo Padre, I had a voice on my phone from Alexis, pressing the button and Listening to the call, I frantically paid for the gas

and got back into my Motorcycle, heading home, As I pulled up outside my apartment I pulled out my cell and begins to dial #Ez cell but there was no answer. Yeah, This was definitely frustrating knowing #Bishop was taken and #Hank was attacked inside the « clubhouse. I dialed @ReyesAtHeartMC hoping she would know where #Ez was at. The ringing tone felt like forever until a voice was heard on the line.>>

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Malia Reyes: I stirred as I hear my cell ringing as I reach over answer the call “Hello?” Nikki’s voice was troubled as she explained what had happened, I was definitely wide awake now.

“I think he said he was staying with my pops, I’ll keep trying to ring him. I’ll drive over there to see where he’s at, I’ll meet you at the clubhouse once I’m done.”

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard, The Prez being taken and #Hank being knocked out cold. I quickly got out of bed and got dressed, heading out to the truck and heading towards my pops house to see if #Ez was there. My head was on overdrive wondering what the hell happened.

Pulling up to the house and getting out, quickly rushing to the door and walking straight inside. “Ez you here?” Quickly rushing to the bedroom where he’d stay but it was empty. My pops walks out. “ Malia, ¿qué pasa?” Looking over at him as I look around.

“ Pop, ¿Has visto a Ezkiel?” He shook his head as I walk over to him as I place a kiss on his cheek as I head back out to the truck. “I’ll call you later.” I had to time to stick around as I jump into my truck and head to the clubhouse, I tried to figure out where Ez was at, Pulling into the yard and shutting off the engine. I get out and rush inside. “Any news?”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Rosa Diaz: It could have been minutes after I called @InkedwithPetals for help or it could have been hours. But the time seemed to drag agonizingly long. Time was crucial. The chances of something happening to #Bishop multiplied with each ticket of the clock.

I kept my head about me, trying to keep from focusing on the worst-case scenario. It wouldn't help anyone to panic. I sat with #Hank on the floor. He'd be more comfortable on the couch but I hadn't had nearly enough Wheaties to hoist him up.

Fortunately, his breathing remained steady and his eyes finally fluttered open. I give him a soft smile, "Don't try to get up, Viejo. Help is coming."

I lift my eyes to the door hearing @ReyesAtHeartMC come through the clubhouse doors, "In here." I call out, "There's nothing yet."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Alexis Alvarez: [I parked my truck in the lot outside the clubhouse barely giving Marcus time to follow me. #Hank on the floor. My Nikes squeaked on the floor as I knelt in front of the teddy bear of a biker.] Stay put old man. I've got this. [#Hank stared at me, his words were a bit slurred but clear to me. "You came. Get those pendejos." I nodded kissing his cheek.] You know I will. [I looked up seeing a familiar face smiling at me. "Lexi." #Chuckie was odd, but he took care of things, first with SAMCRO and now here with the Mayans.

I smiled hugging #Chuckie lightly.] Good to see you, Chuckie. I'm going to need the keys to the shed. Can you do that for me? [A simple nod, but I knew he was probably just as freaked out as everyone else. Marcus stared at me. "Alexis, no!" Fury flashed in my eyes as I stood toe to toe with my godfather.] Who the fuck are you to tell me anything? Especially today. Do you ride? Wear a patch? Vote? Hold a gavel? Nope. You are the cartel's little bitch now. Shut the fuck up and sit down. [I took the keys from Chuckie and turned to Rosa.]

I will bring him home. I'm not that motherfucker behind me. [I ran out to the shed opening the doors. My breath caught for a minute as two bikes were covered with tarps. One I was keeping for Abel and the other was Esai's. As I walked over to my husband's Harley, I patted the handle of the other Harley. Now wasn't the time for tears. I slung my leg over Esai's bike and started it. Clipping my helmet in place I put on my Raybans whispering into the air.] I'm coming Tio. Just hang on. [I pulled out of the shed looking at #Chuckie.] Lock it up. [I looked at Malia and nodded.] Either one of your brothers show up, slap them and send them after me. Juicy shows up? Tell her I have my burner. I'll be back as soon as I can.

[holoscout]

hey ur account has reblogged some raybans posts with a shit ton of @'s on it. from what i recall thats a signifier of your account being hacked! you might want to look into that- stay safe ;x; !

i just got off work!! thank u for the message i'm gonna go get it fixed now LOL

[lihikainanea]

The period smut

My babies, thanks for your patience with this. I hope it was worth the wait. I missed writing these two in a longer piece.

A few things, before you proceed:

1) Tiger has a safe word. She says no, in this. She pushes him away. But in their dynamic, she has a safe word and until she uses it--it’s a green light. She can say no as much as she wants, it’s part of it. She knows--and so does Bill--that if she wants it to stop, she just has to say her safe word.

2) I get that this kink isn’t for everybody. It’s why I’m tagging it as appropriate, so you can blacklist it if you want to. But that being said--friends, ain’t no kink shaming in my house. Life is too short.

***

It hit at the worst time.

There was never a good time for your uterus to attempt to kill you, but smack in the middle of a beach vacation was less than ideal. It usually never hit you too hard, but a lack of exercise and an overabundance of alcohol, of blissful sex most nights and an avalanche of Bill’s subliminal pheromones being exuded in your general direction meant you were in for a rough, hormonal ride.

You felt it the second you woke up, a deep clenching of your lower abdomen that had you curling in more on yourself as you roused from sleep. Bill took your shrinking form as a sign you were needing more affection, so he wrapped even tighter around you as you tried to make your way out of his arms and to the bathroom. It took a few seconds, petulant whining on his part as you undid every new limb he wrapped around you until you took to just smacking him away. 

“Quit it you dick,” he mumbled sleepily, and you rolled your eyes.

“Bill I have to pee. I can do that in the bathroom, or on you,” you snapped. He smirked, his eyes still closed, but you clamped a hand over his mouth before he could speak.

“No,” you said, “Just no. Don’t even.”

He huffed, grumbling at you, as you promised him you’d be back in a second. He didn’t notice your discomfort on your way back to bed, walking gingerly with a hand pressing tightly into your lower stomach, and he was all over you again the minute you laid back down. You let him curl around you, his body heat helping soothe the deep cramps gripping your lower belly.

You thought—you hoped—it would get better the more you moved around, got some food into you, some soothing ginger tea. Advil would have been a smarter choice, but as the cramps got worse over the course of the day and started to nag at your lower back, you turned to your favourite pain relief: alcohol.

Sitting up gingerly from your towel in the sand, you stood slowly and looked for Bill out on the water. You didn’t have to look far, catching the glint off his mirrored RayBans as his long legs hung out the sides of the inflatable swan anchored in the ocean. You waved your arm up high and saw his head tilt, waving a hand back. You motioned to the hotel lobby where the best outdoor bar was—the one that had the heaviest hand when it came to the rum cocktails—and started to make your way over. You moved slowly, your back aching, your entire front doubled over in pain.

“Can I get a Pina colada, please?” You asked the bartender, folding your arms on the counter top and resting your weight on them. You hunched over as another cramp hit, the dull ache radiating to your lower back, and suppressed a groan.

You jumped slightly when a big hand rested on your back, your startled movement jarring you and you grabbed your abdomen as the tense muscles spurred another vicious cramp.

“Easy kid,” Bill soothed, crowding your space, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m dying,” you groaned, “This is death for sure.”

“What’s wrong?” He tried to keep his voice even, calm, but you saw the creases of worry on his features.

“Death by cramps, this is the end for me.”

His brow pinched in concern.

“It’s your stomach?” He asked, reached his hand for it but you flinched and curled away. You winced as the dull ache from your back eased it’s way down your sciatic nerve.

“It’s not my stomach, bud,” you quirked a brow at him, arching your back to ease some of the pain.

“Oh,” you watched as realization clouded his features, “Oh.”

The bartender plunked your drink down then, and you greedily reached for it and managed a few hefty gulps before you felt the brain freeze start to take over.

“And is…rum…a good idea for that?” He asked skeptically. You tilted your head in contemplation.

“You know what? You’re right,” you tapped the bartender on the shoulder, “Can I have 25 shots of tequila please?”

“Tiger, no,” Bill said, his eyes wide.

“Tiger yes,” you insisted, clutching your pina colada and trying to gulp the rest down.

“Alright kid, that’s enough of this,” he pried it from your grasp as you clutched on, your mouth chasing the straw, “Go on upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

But you kept reaching for your drink and he held it high above his head, laying a quick kiss on your lips when you lunged for it.

“Go,” he admonished again, giving your backside a light pat as you grumbled.

You slowly made your way back to your room, stopping every now and then to clutch the wall when a cramp hit particularly hard. When you finally made it in you stripped down to your underwear immediately, pulling on the shirt Bill had worn last night and tucking yourself under the covers. You heard his key slide in the lock a few minutes later, and he rounded the corner with two mugs in his hand.

“This might help a little more than rum,” he said, handing one to you as you sat up. You sniffed it, cupping your hands around the mug as you brought it to your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, the warm liquid soothing a bit of the ache as it settled in your stomach.

“What hurts?” He asked, wrapping his hands around his mug. You placed yours on the nightstand and flopped back onto the pillows.

“Everything,” you whined, “My entire lower abdomen is just…throbbing. My back is killing me. My boobs are killing me. Everything is killing me.”

“Do you want to take something for it?” He asked, but you just shook your head.

“I didn’t bring anything,” you said, throwing a forearm over your eyes and groaning as another cramp hit.

“I couldn’t find a hot water bottle,” he mumbled, pulling the covers down. He gently rucked up your shirt as you protested, and he tutted you softly. “But maybe this will help?”

Putting the mug on the floor, he lightly placed his hands on your lower abdomen, applying just a bit of pressure. His hands were hot from the mug, fanning out across nearly your entire stomach as he pressed down lightly. You groaned in relief, your eyes closing as you went limp.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, the pressure and the heat easing the tension.

“Good?” He asked, switching the position of his hands and rubbing lightly.

“Press down a bit harder please,” you begged, your eyes closed. You sighed heavily when he did, adding just a bit more pressure as he stilled his hands.

“Does it help?” He asked, hopeful. You managed a small smile as you tickled your fingers up his forearm.

“Big time, bud. Thank you.”

“You know,” he started, moving his hands to another position, “I heard an orgasm is also incredibly effective at relieving cramps.”

You opened your eyes, glaring at him.

“I swear to god,” you threatened, “My uterus is literally shredding itself into pieces. Shredding, Bill. And you are seriously proposing that I fuck your brains out for relief?”

He stared back, unblinking.

“No, I’m seriously proposing that you lie back and let me fuck your brains out, for your own relief,” he picked up the mug again, warming his hands for a few seconds before placing them back on your lower abdomen. 

“It’s gross,” you snapped. He shrugged.

“It’s science.”

You just shook your head, flopping it back on the pillow. A second later you heard the bedsheets rustle, felt the weight on the bed shift as his hands slid off your stomach.

He ran his nose along your jaw, steadying his weight above you with a knee planted on the mattress, before placing his lips on that sensitive spot below your ear. He sucked on it softly as you inhaled a sharp breath, willing yourself not to whimper. He released it with a lick, swiping his tongue over his lips before planting them again an inch down, sucking on your pulse point.

“Bill, no,” you sighed, but his hands came up to tangle with yours and you held on.

“Okay,” he mumbled into your neck, moving his lips down to kiss and suck at another spot. His mouth was warm and soft, leaving a wet trail in its wake as you tingled.

“Stop,” you whimpered, but he just nipped gently at your sensitive skin as you craned your chin up to expose more of your neck.

“Alright,” he conceded, moving his mouth to the hollow of your neck and down your collarbone, peppering suckling kisses along it. He made his way back up your neck and when he got to your sweet spot—a small spot halfway up your neck and a little to the back—he sucked on it a little harder as he softly rolled his hips down into yours. You gasped and moaned; you were already so sensitive, but now you were dialled to a hundred.  He rested his hips lightly against yours, keeping a lot of the pressure off your stomach but pressing down just enough to relieve some of your pain.

“Bill it’s…it’s gross,” you tried, but it sounded pitiful even to you. He rolled his hips slowly into yours again and you dug your nails into his biceps, moaning softly.

“S’not gross,” he murmured into your neck, “And it’ll help you.”

“It’s messy,” you bit your lip, but you could feel your resolve crumbling the more he pushed his hips into yours.

“We’ll put a towel down,” he moved his face from your neck, kissing down your nose before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You whined into it, already worked up and hormonal, even more so knowing that the release you were now so desperately craving would have to wait a few days. You broke the kiss, frustrated, and tried to sit up.

“This is mean,” you started to push away at him, his lips softly pressing all over your face, “You’re getting me all horny and you know there’s nothing we can do about it for a few more days.”

“We can do something about it,” he insisted, kissing you again as you struggled, “I’ve done it before.”

That gave you pause as you looked up at him, and he held your gaze.

“You have?” You asked meekly. He nodded, and gave you a half smile.

“Yeah, in fact I had a girlfriend who was super into it. She swore it was the only thing that ever helped,” he wove his hands with yours again, kissing the corners of your mouth, “I was happy to do it.”

He bumped his nose with yours, kissing the tip of it as you contemplated.

“Which girlfriend?”

“Tiger,” he rolled his eyes, “Look, if you really don’t want to, then we won’t. But don’t hold out on relief because you think it’s gross. It doesn’t bother me, kid.”

 You stared at him long and hard, waiting to see a crack in his facade. But irritatingly, all you saw was kindness and sincerity. And as another cramp clenched your lower stomach, you caved.

“Fine,” you agreed, “But there’s no way I’m doing this without a shower first.”

Smiling, he moved off of you and pulled you up slowly. When you made your way into the bathroom, he followed but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Nuh uh, buddy,” you pushed him back, “You wait out here.”

He whined petulantly but you shoved him back and slammed the door.

You took your time under the stream of hot water, both to gain courage and to soap up a few times. When you weren’t getting any cleaner, you shut the water off with a sigh. Running a towel through your hair, you wrapped it around you after and took a deep breath as you opened the door.

Bill was sitting cross legged on the bed, moving to his knees when he saw you. He had spread out towels—the dark blue ones, typically reserved for the beach—all over the bed.

“I thought the white ones might freak you out,” he reached his hand out and you walked towards him, taking it, “I asked the hotel to bring me these ones.”

“Good call,” you muttered, “Now get me off my feet before gravity takes over.”

Your attempt at grossing him out didn’t work, when all he did was pull you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he captured your lips in a lingering kiss. He shifted, pulling you onto the bed and settling you under him, resting some of his weight on you. He moved his lips from yours to kiss your chin, nipping your jaw.

“I’m serious, bud,” you tried again, “It’s going to like…gush.”

“Okay,” he mumbled unaffected, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. You whimpered, craning your neck up to give him better access.

“It’s going to look like a crime scene,” you couldn’t keep the edge of a pleasured sigh from sneaking out as he nibbled on your ear.

“Alright,” he mumbled again, moving his lips down to suck the water droplets from your neck. He moaned, his lips vibrating against your sensitive skin, and pulled at the knot in your towel. He trailed his mouth over your collarbone as his hand came up to cup your breast, running his thumb over your nipple. He kneaded it softly, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger before pinching it lightly and you groaned. You were so sensitive already, the hormones putting all of your nerve endings on fire as he licked the hollow of your neck, dragging his tongue down the middle of your chest. He rolled his hips into yours as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, and you gasped.

“You know,” you started, pausing to moan as he flicked it with his tongue, “You really don’t have to uh, warm me up.”

“Mmm,” was his non-committal reply.

“There’s going to be enough…wetness,” you tried again, “But it’ll be blo—”

He cut you off with a rough kiss.

“You get an A for effort in trying to gross me out, kid,” he murmured, “But you still lose.”

He kissed you again, rolling his hips into yours again and you clung to him, digging your nails into his back. He sucked on your bottom lip, running his tongue over it as he laid his palm flat on your chest, dragging is down slowly to rest low on your belly. It knocked you back into the present.

“Whoa hey, hang on,” you broke the kiss and grabbed his wrist firmly, “Hands stay up top.”

He sighed and moved his hand, shifting to balance his weight on his forearms he looked down at you. 

“Why?” He asked.

“Because, that’s some next level shit I’m not ready for yet,” you said. He kissed you lightly, running his thumb across your cheek.

“Tiger, if you don’t want to do this, then we won’t do it,” he said as he stroked your cheek. You shook your head.

“No, I want to,” you insisted, “I’m just…I’m not ready for your hands to be all up in that mess.”

“Okay,” he acquiesced, “Are you sure? About wanting this?”

You nodded.

“And if you change your mind about it all? And you want to stop?”

“I’ll tell you,” you promised, and he smiled. Weaving his hands with yours, he placed them by your head.

“Good. So I’ll just keep my hands up here,” he murmured, “And maybe I just keep doing this, instead.”

And he thrusted his hips into you again, making you moan as he brought his mouth back down to your chest. Licking between your breasts, he nipped at your soft mounds before capturing your nipple back in his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it as he flexed his hips into yours, sucking hard on it as you whimpered. Releasing it with a pop, he dragged his mouth back to yours for a deep kiss while he let go of your hands.

“Take my pants off kid,” he commanded, “I’ll keep my hands up here.”

He moved them into your hair, scratching lightly as you fumbled for his pants and pushed them down over his hips. You used your feet to drag them down his legs, until they were low enough for him to kick off. Settling his hips onto yours, he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth.

“Line me up,” he murmured against your mouth, and you reached down to position his head at your entrance. He moaned at the contact, fisting your hair a little tighter.

“You good, tiger?” He asked, and it came out as more of a sigh. You nodded.

“Yeah bud,” you couldn’t help but grind up against him just a bit, making you both moan, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Removing his hands from your hair to weave back with yours, he kissed you as he slowly pushed into you. He groaned from deep in his chest and you felt him twitch, pressing in until his hips sat flush with yours and he dragged in a ragged breath.

“Bullseye,” he sighed.

You were clenching around him already, so worked up and hypersensitive, and now stretched so deliciously with him inside of you. His head rested heavily on that sensitive part of your walls, already pulsating against him and he squeezed your hands tighter.

“God, kid,” he moaned, “You feel fucking incredible.”

You took a deep breath in, tried to calm the tight coil you could already feel building low in your gut but it was no use. You felt yourself fluttering around him, your muscles clenching rhythmically as he pulled his hips back and slowly rolled them into yours again.

“You ok?” He checked in, and you raked your nails down his back as you craned your head up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down and rubbing against your clit with his lower abs.

“So good,” you whimpered, tilting your hips up into his for more friction, “So good.”

He thrusted into you slow and deep, and you were already losing control. Burying his face in your neck, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured against you, “You’re ready to come already.”

You let out a frustrated cry and he felt you bear down on him, gritting your teeth to try and stave it off. He nipped his way back to your mouth, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“Oh no, kid. No way,” he groaned, rolling down into you with a bit more force, “Don’t hold back.”

Gently, he eased his thumb into your mouth as he ground his hips down onto your clit.

“This is for you, sweet girl,” he bumped his nose with yours and closed his eyes, cursing lowly when he felt you squeeze around him, “You let go whenever you need to. I’ll catch up.”

He thrusted deep into you again, staying in and rubbing his pelvis against your nub as you groaned. Your walls fluttered around him and you whined as you bit around his thumb.

“Give it to me, kid,” he coaxed. He gripped the bedsheets tightly in his fist, cursing and biting into the pillow to stave off his own release when he felt you start to clench rhythmically around him. Your back bowed off the bed as you stilled, everything tense and wound tight before it snapped. With a soft cry you clutched at him, biting down hard on his thumb as his hips continued to move slowly against you as you spasmed. He rested you gently against the pillows as you rode it out, not stopping his movements as you writhed and whimpered.

“Good girl,” he praised, a guttural groan clawing its way out of his chest, “God the things you do to me, tiger.”

Easing his thumb out of your mouth, he bit down hard on your bottom lip before dragging it into his mouth, parting your lips to glide his tongue inside.

The way he kept his movements slow and steady, not stopping as you came down from your high meant that you were soon climbing again. You made a strangled noise, feeble and needy, as you felt it start to build with his gentle thrusts, the rhythmic roll of his hips into yours, the slow drag of when he pulled back and the sweet satisfaction of when he filled you back up again.

“Wrap your legs around me kid,” he commanded breathlessly, “Nice and tight.”

You did as you were told, rewarded with a deep moan as he repositioned his weight on his hands, thrusting in deeper.

“Touch your clit for me, sweet girl,” he sighed, grinding into you, “Nice and gentle.”

You whined but he shushed you softly, licked the pads of your first two fingers before coaxing your hand down. You pressed down gingerly on your oversensitive nub, causing you to clench around him and he moaned, kissing you hard.

“That’s it, tiger,” he praised, “Just like how I would do it.”

But you whimpered, grabbing at his hand and placing it low on your belly.

“You do it better,” you whined, “Please Bill.”

“You sure, kid?” He asked, “I thought you didn’t want my hands—”

“Please,” you cut him off with your begging, feeling the pressure building in your stomach as your body thrummed, “Please just touch me.”

You didn’t need to ask again; he dragged his lips to the sweet spot on your neck, sucking on it as he gently pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger. You were so sensitive, already so close again that you let out a loud cry and surged forward. He groaned, thrusting in deep and doing it again.

“Bill,” the whimpers tumbled from your lips as you started to tighten around him, raking your nails down his back. He twitched and thrusted in hard, slamming into you with a loud groan.

“Fuck,” it was loud, almost a yell, as he pinched your clit and slammed into you again. It was enough to send you over the edge, tumbling into bliss a second time as you dug your nails into his back and tightened your legs around him. The feeling of your spasms around him triggered his own release and his hand shot out, gripping the headboard as he let out a loud cry. His back tensed, his hips thrusting in deep and staying there as he crushed you to him, groaning as he twitched through it. He couldn’t hold his weight as the aftershocks took over, his muscles jolting as he collapsed on top of you. He sighed, his chest heaving with deep breaths that he struggled to take. He stayed like that for a few minutes, his full weight crushing you to the mattress as he tried to catch his breath.

He got his wits about him after awhile, and raised up as much as he could, his arms shaky and his jaw still lax with pleasure.

“Are you okay?” He mumbled. Dazed, you managed a dopey grin.

“I think we’ll be doing that more often,” you said. He smiled, his own lopsided and nearly drunk.

“Are your cramps gone?” He asked, and you nodded.

“You feel good?” He questioned, and once again you nodded enthusiastically. He laughed, pecking your lips briefly.

“Good,” he said, keeping a close hold of you as he rolled off and onto his side. With a deep breath he sat up, struggling to get his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, wobbling slightly, and you shot up in panic.

“Bill, wait,” you said and he turned to you, but your face dropped in horror and embarrassment when you looked down. You had made a mess of him, blood staining his lower abdomen and his upper thighs, and your cheeks burned with humiliation.

“Don’t look down,” you begged, mortified. You scrambled to throw the sheets around yourself, grabbing at the towels to try and clean up, “Please don’t look down. I’ll clean you up.”

Two hands on your shoulders gently pushed you back down as you tried to stand, leaning over you to spread the towel back out on the bed and kissing your lips lightly.

“Tiger, relax,” he soothed, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you whined, “It’s gross. I made a mess on you.”

“Kid, you have literally thrown up all over me. Multiple times. A little blood is not going to gross me out,” he kissed you softly again, “It’s natural.”

“It’s gross. Can I at least clean you up?” You mumbled feebly, but he tapped your nose.

“No. Lie down, I’ll be back in a second,” and with no more room to argue, he shoved you gently back onto the pillow and made his way to the bathroom. He re-emerged a few minutes later, his front cleaned off and with a small container of baby wipes in his hand. Sitting beside you, he gently swiped between your legs with a wipe, cleaning you up as you groaned and threw your forearm across your eyes in embarrassment. But you let him work, dabbing you with another wipe before a crinkle of paper caught your attention, a gentle hand moving your legs further apart.

“Whoa, no fucking way,” you shot upright, grabbing his wrist and snatching the tampon from his hand as he looked at you with a bored expression, “Are you fucking insane?”

“You know, you can be a real prude sometimes tiger,” he quirked a brow at you, an amused grin tugging at his lips. You glared at him, incredulous.

“This is gross,” you accused, “How the fuck are you so okay with all of this shit? Who the fuck tries to put a tampon—” 

He cut you off with a kiss, holding your face to him as you struggled.

“You know what? You’re right, kid” he nipped playfully at your nose and you swatted him, “No sense in wasting one when we’re just gonna go at it again in a few hours.”

[datonenikki]

Okay I think I should be safe from the raybans thing now but I just wanna say that I didn't even fucking see any of these posts myself so what the fuck. Also sorry to anyone who got tagged, the thing queued up a few posts but there shouldn't be more coming.

[crows-scones-and-exy-thrones]

hello friends

recently my tumblr account was hacked so if you received any strange messages from me in the past several days they were most definitely not from me, as i have been hospitalized since tuesday (i’m fine now). don’t click on any links i may have sent you, and ignore the raybans post if it pops back up. say safe lovelies <3

[smythesm]

You and I Were Fireworks- Fourth of July Weekend, 2020.

Para: - You and I Were Fireworks

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Seblaine.

When: Fourth of July Weekend, 2020

Location: Smythe Family Lake house, Ohio.

Notes: Sebastian and Blaine get a much needed escape from Massachusetts for some Summer fun. Sebastian’s favorite time of the year.

Warnings: A nice little calm before the oncoming storm. ;)

Sebastian's POV:

Sebastian’s family owned a lake house a few hours away from Westerville. He grew up going to the lake at least twice every summer (if he were in the states, of course.) and his father regularly went on fishing trips with his brothers there (Sebastian was never interested. He tried fishing once when he was 9 and almost threw up when he saw the worms.) Over the years, The Smythe’s had celebrated the 4th of July at the lake house off and on. It was always a giant bash filled with Sparkler burnt fingertips and ice cold lemonade. This year, Sabine decided to make a weekend out of it since the 4th happened to fall on a Saturday. She had invited Sebastian and Blaine and other random family members most of which he couldn’t care less about (none of the Aunts would be there, they were going on a ‘Wine Weekend’ Thank GOD.) . 

What he did care about was fireworks, the smell of charcoal in the air, the sun soaking into his skin, and his feet floating in cold water. Seb loved Independence day though it didn’t really have anything to do with patriotism. It had to do with summer, melted popsicles, grilled hamburgers with heaps of charred cheese, campfires and gooey marshmallows, the scent of heat soaked asphalt mixed with sunscreen. He was a child of summer, his skin glowed when the sun touched it and he didn’t have to wear much clothing if he didn’t want to because it was always hot. No sweatshirts, or blankets, or socks. The 4th of July as the most sun drenched, sticky summer day of the year and Sebastian loved that feeling. 

 He was excited for Blaine to see the property. The house basically floated on the water, had an open bay where they kept the boat, a dock, and a spacious wrap around porch. The house was surrounded by trees and yellow flowers in the front that complemented its grey color. The lake itself  was basically the backyard and seemed to stretch on forever. It was everything that his boyfriend loved. Sebastian even surprised the other man with some new amber colored jars so that he could collect lake water and sand when the others weren’t around. 

Blaine and Sebastian drove to Ohio with Enjolras. They took turns driving, stopped for lots of snacks and to let Ras walk around, and they only bickered over the blue tooth once. Blaine sang almost every song that played and even talked Seb into singing a little bit. Blaine had kept Ras calm with his vibes and the pup sat in the back seat calmly and happily looking out the window as other cars and buildings and green grassy fields flew by. 

It was a successful trip and they arrived in the evening in time for dinner on Friday night. It looked like Wick and Luke, Sebastian’s most un problematic Uncle and little cousin were there along with other random cousins and family friends of Thomas. Sebastian never felt much appreciation for his family, except for his mother. But, since meeting Blaine, he had a newfound gratitude for some of them. His boyfriend loved Wick and Luke and he liked to attend social events, since he didn’t really do anything besides magical  business or arguing with his own father. Which wasn’t very different for Seb (minus the magic) but, at least he had his mother and his Uncle Wick and Luke.

Blaine’s POV:

Sabine inviting Sebastian and himself to Ohio couldn’t have come at a better time for Blaine, it was also the cause of a rather emotional argument. Tensions had already been  rising between him and his father at LeFay and Blaine’s anxieties and fears were beginning to catch up to him. He hated the bickering and the knowing, frustrated looks Will Anderson threw at him every time he mentioned that he had some sort of gig or that he wouldn’t be back for the night for some reason or another. He hated it even more when Will threw Sebastian, without saying his boyfriends name, back into his face. He could still hear the echoes of his father’s voice when he told him he wouldn’t be home much this weekend. 

You must really think I’m stupid, Blaine. I know where you go. I know who you’re seeing and I know what he is. Blaine had given him a firm head shake and an even firmer proclamation that he didn’t know what the hell Will was talking about. Blaine’s hands had shook, and his voice grew thick when he’d spoken, but he stood his ground. For his part,  Will had thrown his hands up, yelled a few more things about Blaine’s life being worth more than some silly fling and then, and this still surprised Blaine, his father’s words cut off like he didn’t have any steam left in him and he looked for a moment like his face might break into tears before turning away from Blaine and waving a dismissive hand at him. Mumbling for him to just be safe. Blaine quietly promised he’d check in to keep himself from getting into trouble again and left the room. As Blaine packed for the trip, he had to wonder if Will knew that, even though it was supposed to be impossible, Sebastian was his Fate. His soul mate. That he was so much more than a fling. 

Blaine tried his best not to ponder too hard about this or else it would eat him up the whole weekend and that was the last thing he needed. He needed to calm down and relax, he needed to not think about LeFay or his father’s haunted face as he spoke about Sebastian and Blaine. He needed to focus on this trip, and being away and spending time with people that didn’t make him feel like he was an awful person for being in love. It made him feel selfish and guilty because he could still see that look in his dads eye and it reminded him just a bit of when his mom died but… he pushed it away and replaced his worries with an easy, warm smile and embrace for Sabine, a firm handshake accompanied by a clap on the shoulder for Thomas, open laughter for Wick and Luke and a wide eyed wonder over the enchanting slice of nature that was the Smythe family lake house. He made a promise to himself to tell Seb about his worries and the argument with his dad later, but for now he needed this peace. Besides, he had a few new lovely jars that needed to be filled and he didn’t want to tarnish their trip and Seb’s gift with a melancholy memory. 

The dinner had gone by fast, the night ending with drinks for the adults by the fire, Sebastian had even relaxed enough and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder, and there were sparklers for the younger ones. There was an openness among the family that seemed to be missing from the two Thanksgivings Blaine had spent with the Smythe’s and he wondered if it might have to do with the absences of the infamous Aunts. The night ended slowly and they fell asleep in a room with open windows, and lake breeze reminding him of their first trip to the island together. They fell asleep wrapped around each other with Ras snuggled at their feet and he could feel that Freya, sneakily, was nearby keeping watch. 

The next morning brought fresh fruits and rich coffee for breakfast and a warm Summer breeze rustling through full green trees sending ripples throughout the massive lake. The gentle sway of their boat, warmed by Sebastian’s favored sun almost lulling Blaine to sleep as he lay on his stomach on the boats deck, his head propped up on his left hand, his right hand idly connecting the dots of Sebastian's star dusted freckles, his leg hooked just so over Seb to keep them close. It was just the two of them out there, everyone else felt a million miles away for just a moment and Blaine could have stayed this way forever. It was so close to perfect. He could hear the splashes of water as Ras and seven year old Luke, Wick and few of the other cousins played near the shore. It brought Blaine back to a soothing reality and he gave a little laugh and a lazy smile as he sent little magical splashes of lake water towards the shore, making it seem as if the water were chasing Luke and Ras and the rest. He probably shouldn't have been doing it, but the delighted giggles from the boy and the barks from Ras made Blaine happy and not much could ruin this moment.

He could feel Sebastian's green gaze and he turned his head, his smile still lazing around on his face. “What?” He laughed, leaning in to nuzzle at Seb’s shoulder. “Mm, you don’t suppose your mom would let me cook breakfast for everyone tomorrow, do you?”

Sebastian's POV:

Sebastian had all of his favorite things in one place; summer, his favorite holiday, and Blaine. The moment felt perfect; the sun beating down onto his skin, the boat gently swaying, the scent of algae and coconut from the sunscreen Sabine kept in the boat. It was Blaine’s strong fingertips tracing over his skin, the sound of his youngest cousin and his dog barking, Blaine humming and laughing a little himself. He lifted his head up and noticed Blaine gently moving his hand back and forth. Sebastian sat up a little more to look back at the shore where it seemed tiny waves were chasing a glee filled Luke around as Enjolras playfully bit and stomped on the waves. He slid his black RayBan sunglasses down the slope of his nose to look over at his boyfriend. “You better be careful,B. Luke’s gonna be on to you.” Sebastian smiled a lazy smile, calmed by the sun’s rays and lulled by the lake’s rhythm.  He stretched out his long legs, wiggled his toes, and turned his face up towards the sky. “I think she’d love that. Though, she might insist on helping out. You really wanna cook for all these people?”  Seb let his eyes rake over the other man’s muscular body. They were both starting to tan already. Sebastian sighed a happy, dazed sigh. “Of course you do.” He reached out and poked Blaine’s ribs gently. “You’re sweet. We should probably head back. We have the crab boil and Wick’s fireworks tonight.” 

Sebastian and Blaine chased Luke and Ras around in the water for a little bit before heading in to take showers, get distracted by each other in said showers, only to change into new swim trunks and tank tops. Sabine had caterers come in to make a crab boil for the family. She had picnic tables set up, filled with buttery crab legs, corn on the cob, and red potatoes. There were cold beers for the adults and even a sno-cone machine set up by said caterers for the kids. Sebastian would be damned, though, if he didn’t get his hands on a cherry sno-cone. They ate too much and laughed and drank until it was dark enough for the fireworks to begin.

He and Blaine helped set off a few small fireworks at the beginning of Wick’s display. Sebastian stooping low to light the little fuse on whatever weird firework his uncle had picked out, only to take off running with Blaine so that nothing sparked on them. The three of them laughing and jumping around like they were all teenagers again. Sebastian had gotten a spark on his grey Sperrys and danced around like a crazed duck, his adrenaline spiked, laughing so hard after that his sides hurt. 

 The two of them found themselves on a blanket in the warm green grass, looking up at the colorful explosions in the sky. Sebastian felt a little tipsy from the adrenaline of setting off fireworks and the crisp beers and the scent of lake breeze trapped in Blaine’s curls. His younger cousins and family friend’s children ran around with sparklers and Ras was asleep at Sabine’s feet as she lounged in an Adirondack chair. “You keeping him calm?” Seb pointed at the sleepy pup.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine had to fight to keep from smiling too big and he gave a shrug in regards to Seb’s statement, his grin a little mischievous. “Ah well, he’s seven. Sometimes kids need something to believe in. This isn’t the first time I’ve given Luke a little glimpse though, remember?” He asked, his hand resting on Seb’s sun kissed thigh as his boyfriends shifted positions so he could watch the activities on the shore. He thought back to the Thanksgiving he’d met Luke, the five year old had seemed fascinated with Blaine from the get go as if he were someone akin to Santa Claus. Sometimes human kids just knew when a person had magic whether they showed it off or not. The memory of making the curtains dance was a fond one for Blaine and he’d put it on the shelf along with this boat and the pup biting at his magical little waves and the kid chasing them.   “Besides, he’ll forget all about it as he gets older. Kind of like most kids do with Santa Claus and so on.” All children grow up and sadly most of them didn’t take their imaginations with them into adulthood. Blaine just wanted to bring a little bit of happiness into a world that was sometimes incredibly dark. 

He thought for a moment, taking a visual headcount of all the people he’d have to cook for and nodded to Seb. A sheepish smile creeping over his face at Seb’s sighing of course you do. “Yeah, I want to. Everyone here has been so welcoming, especially your mom. I suppose I don’t actually have a say on whether she helps me or not. It’s her kitchen after all. I just want to do something nice. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but food is one way that I show appreciation.” He laughed, a little thrill shooting though his body when Seb poked him, the gesture tickling him. His cheeks flaring up in a blush at being called sweet. He nodded, and moved to sit in the proper seat so Seb could steer them back with a silly,  “Aye, Captain.” and a wink.

The holiday went on in a blur of Luke and Enjolras running around in circles from the two of them. Wick tipping a couple of the younger kids into the Summer warmed lake water. Ras whined when he could follow Sebastian and Blaine back into the bathroom while they shared a shower that somehow turned more intimate than intended with mouths and skin touching skin. Blaine’s cheeks were red when they emerged back at the gathering a short time later and not from the sun. He sipped on a beer during dinner, hoping the lot would think it was just from the drink and the sun. And they laughed at each other’s Sno-Cone stained mouths. Seb’s cherry red and tempting and Blaine’s an unnatural shade of blue as he happily ate the sticky sweet cotton candy flavor he’d chosen. The smell of fireworks and sunscreen and lake water filled the air and Blaine couldn't stop laughing at his boyfriend for all of his hopping about, the laughter pouring out of him as Seb squeaked and giggled like a teen as his shoe was singed. And for just this moment, remember why he’d been so upset before coming here. 

He found himself relaxed on their blanket, following Seb’s line of sight to where Ras and Sabine sat close by.  Red, white, blue and a tangle of other colors crashing overhead, lighting up the sky as he slipped his hand into Seb’s, giving his boyfriend a squeeze to reassure him. “Yes.” Blaine had made it his mission to make sure Ras didn’t get too nervous with all the fireworks. He’d been sending out a pleasant wave of energy to Seb’s companion all night long. Blaine turned his head and pressed a kiss to Seb’s shoulder before pulling back to smile up at him. The taller man tasted like the sun that he loved so damn much and Blaine was quiet for a moment as he basked in his glow. “Yeah, I have and well, Frey’s here also. She’s been hiding and watching him since we got here. I think the water and the fire are making her nervous.” He chuckled lowly, scooting a little closer to Seb. “She’s been watching all of us actually, I think. She knows a few of your favorite people are here so she feels obligated to keep us all safe. But, between you and me I think she’s mostly ere for Ras as well as your mom.” He paused, his thumb running over Seb’s knuckle gently. “Speaking of your mom- she’s gonna let me cook!” He laughed again, warmly. “She’s insisting on helping, so you were right about that. But, I get to cook. So, I guess I’ll be getting up a couple hours early tomorrow.” He leaned up and kissed Seb’s jaw. “Try not to miss me too much.”

He thought back to when he’d approached Sabine about doing breakfast, somewhere between dinner and Sno-Cones. She squeezed his hands comfortingly, her pretty face lighting up in a smile and a little eye roll that was reminiscent of Sebastian’s as she said of course you want to help. And of course you can. It pleased Blaine so much and again he struggled to remember what he’d been so worried about. But, he supposed that was the point. “Hey.” He mumbled and nudged Seb’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to look away from the colorful sky. “I love you so much, you know? In case I haven’t told you today.” He smiled fully,a little goofy, his face open and worry lines gone for the moment. “I’m sorry, it’s all just so romantic right now I just can’t help myself.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian nodded. “Thanks for doing that. He usually has to stay inside anytime there are fireworks.” He chuckled and shook his head because of course Freya was at the lake. “She’s magical, though. She’d be fine, right?” Sebastian looked at the lingering smoke in the night sky. “I mean, it is probably for the best that she stays hidden. Luke might try to take her home and how would we get out of that one?” He laughed a little to himself, picturing seven year old hands clutching the massive white fluff of Blaine’s familiar. Sebastian could imagine her bitchy face perfectly. He caught Blaine’s hand in his, “I’m glad. You’ll have fun together, I’m sure. She’s not the best cook but she tries. Not that I’m one to talk.” Sebastian smiled and looked down into Blaine’s warm eyes, they were practically sparkling with excitement. “You know I’ll be sleeping in.”

He looked back up after a loud ‘boom!’ sounded above them, the night sky filled with green and gold bursts of light. Sebastian looked back at the other man when he felt the nudge. He smiled, “I love you so much back.” Seb couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes playfully. “That is one of the most you things you’ve ever said. Today was pretty great. Thanks for coming with me.” 

Seb leaned in and gave Blaine a kiss as a big red firework exploded above them, painting their skin in a faint scarlet glow. “We should probably head inside soon since you have to get up early. Ras will probably stay out here with my mom. He loves her and doesn’t get to see her often.” He stood up and held his hand out to help the other man up. They walked over and said goodnight to Sabine, Sebastian gave her a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his pup’s shaggy fur. He felt the only kind of tired that you feel after a long day of sun and water. The kind of tired where skin has summer heat trapped inside and your bones feel water logged. Seb knew that he was going to fall asleep fast and soundly. 

He had hardly stirred when Blaine left for the kitchen with a kiss but the smell of bacon definitely brought him out of his heavy slumber. Sebastian’s stomach growled and he could hear the din of dishes, the click of paws on tile, and his mother’s laughter float from the kitchen. He ran a hand over his sleepy eyes and stretched his limbs, threw on his tank top and green trunks from the night before and headed towards the welcoming sounds and smells. Sebastian walked in to see his boyfriend and mother finishing up the impressive spread, laughing and talking like old friends. Wick was working on pouring himself some coffee and nudged his own cup towards Sebastian. He took it with a grateful smile. Luke was sleepily nursing a bowl of watermelon. The rest of the family and guests were still asleep.  “Smells  great in here.” Seb’s voice was low and sleepy, he was sure his hair was still a mess. “Can I steal some of that bacon before Ras gets it all.”

Blaine’s POV:

After bidding Sabine and the pup and a few of the other adults a goodnight (the kids had fallen asleep in a haze of fireworks and excitement) Blaine let Sebastian lead him up the stairs and the two of them fell asleep hard, their energetic, sun soaked weekend catching up to them. Blaine’s arms wrapped tightly around Sebastian. He hardly even stirred when not even an hour later the door opened and an equally sleepy Ras padded in and fell asleep at their feet again. Blaine jerked awake once sometime around four in the morning, his subconscious telling him he was forgetting something. He pulled himself from Seb, and grudgingly popped himself back into his LeFay room to check in, making sure the magic in the school knew that he was around before he let himself go back to Sebastian’s arms for the night. The next thing he knew he was being quietly nudged awake by a bright eyed, fresh faced Sabine Smythe, already dressed and ready to conquer the day. She left the room so he could get ready and he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he got dressed and made his way down to the vast, open kitchen. 

A familiar tug pulled at his heart as he thought back to all the times his own mother would wake him up so they could cook for his dad. And while he knew that Sabine wasn’t his mother it still lifted his heart knowing that she was there for him with the gentle way she showed him around the kitchen and  the warm way she spoke to him. Plus, it made him happy knowing how much she loved Sebastian and seemed to be fond of Blaine himself. It meant a great deal to him and he hoped his smile and gratitude showed it. She’d even let him show her how to make the pancakes so that they’d be extra fluffy and she showed him how to brew a better pot of coffee, which was saying something as Blaine prided himself on his coffee and tea skills. Blaine had given Luke a bowl of watermelon to tide him over while they cooked. Both him and Sabine laughing as the kid all but fell asleep into his bowl. He smiled shyly up at his boyfriend as he heard his familiar sleep raspy voice coming down the stairs. He piled a generous amount of bacon on a plate for Sebastian and slid the plate over to him. He even managed to sneak Enjolras a piece.

“Good morning!” He greeted, and pressed an almost shy kiss to Seb’s lips as a hello. His cheeks were a little red knowing they had an audience, but Sabine’s energy seemed pleased, and Luke just huffed like children did when adults did adult things and Wick was too busy sucking down his coffee to even seem to notice. Slowly, one by one, the rest of the group arrived all of them seemingly impressed by the spread the two of them had prepared.  Even Thomas Smythe, who rarely seemed impressed unless you presented him with a two hundred year old bottle of wine, was impressed. Giving Blaine a nod and a half smile over his morning paper. They ate, and talked and laughed for the next hour, the Sunday morning going just as smoothly as the rest of the weekend had and Blaine found himself not wanting to leave just yet. Alas, the two of them had a twelve hour drive ahead of them and if they wanted to be back before midnight they needed to leave soon. It wasn’t practical to magic travel with Ras in tow so a long drive it was. After their meal Blaine and Sebastian both helped leave the kitchen in the condition it was in when they arrived and went off to pack up.

They said their goodbyes, hugging Sabine and promising they’d be back around soon. A handshake for Thomas and Wick, and nods of farewell to the rest. Blaine had a breif talk with Luke about Star Wars and Harry Potter that Seb even joined in with where he could and they promised they’d see him on Thanksgiving this year. And maybe, yeah, maybe Ras could come. By eleven that morning they were off and on their way home. Ras was already snoring lightly in the back seat with Blaine’s help. Promises of Freya waiting for him when he got home lulling him. Though Blaine knew that Ras knew she had been nearby the whole time.

Somewhere around the six hour mark, after stopping for dinner, Blaine managed to let himself think about his dad and their disheartening conversation on Friday night. He reached for Seb’s hand before he started the car back up to finish their drive and quietly told him all about what had happened. Telling him that he didn’t want to tell him before because he didn’t want to ruin the weekend with his worries. His boyfriend had listened intently, a little frown on his face before cupping Blaine’s face and kissing him gently and telling him that he understood, and that he was there for him and made Blaine promise not to keep his worries to himself anymore in the future. It wasn’t going to ruin things, if anything Seb could make Blaine feel better about it if he’d let him. Blaine had promised and they finished the drive in a flourish of loud music and bad gas station coffee. The clock reading 12:06 am when they finally let themselves into Seb’s apartment. Ras bound over to Freya and licked her face like he hadn’t seen her in weeks. She then gave both Blaine and Seb a sniff before settling down on the couch with a sleeping Ras, apparently she was tired from the weekend too. Blaine and Seb managed to pull their luggage into the bedroom before sharing a quick, exhausted shower to wash the traveling away. The two of them fell into bed exhausted, eyes already closing, arms pulling each other close and their mouths pressing together in a sleepy kiss that promised something more tomorrow night.

/fin.

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (cut)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: this version of the epilogue is the 'clean cut' - there's a good chunk of it missing but it's not particularly important to the story. if you want to read the EXPLICIT version, there should be another one uploaded at the same time. (sorry, this is scheduled so i don't have the link yet lol)

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

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Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

You stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walk into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Placing the body into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale. Off to the woods, where you buried your first love. In a town where not everyone who dies leaves.

The drive to and from the place was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and go straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[maxellminidisc]

Damn, nobody is safe from this Raybans special huh?! First it's a charity special now it's a Halloween special alskdkdkdkfkd