#the rv is Trashed

[hg7439976]

// YR grabbing mercury for their conspiracy

[rent-bin]

Roloff dumpster sizes

, Dumpster sizes Common in Calgary, Airdrie and Crossfield Alberta. We have all the standard US rolloff dumpster sizes.We Carrie 10 yd.³ bins, 15 yd.³ dumpsters, 20 yd.³ bins 30 yd.³ bins but we’re still working on 40 yd.³ bins. We don’t yet haul that size although we do haul 6 yd.³ bins. You might be aware that the name is equivalent to how much the bin can hold for example a 10 yd.³ dumpster…

[irreplaceable-spark]

Homeless RV Encampments are Polluting LA Water and Beaches | Barry Coe

"Unbelievable stuff going on the amount of trash. There are hazardous materials, leftover burned-out carcasses of motor homes are all over the place. 9000 gallons of raw sewage a month are going into the wastewater system. That's the storm drain system, not the sewers. The storm drain carries it straight to Santa Monica Bay." Siyamak sits down with Barry Coe, former commissioner from Santa Monica. Today he will talk about how the RVs went out of control in the streets in Los Angeles and how it impacts.

[thebackwoodsbarbi]

Watch "Washing the Camper - UNBELIEVABLE DIFFERENCE 👀" on YouTube

[satansfootlong]

Every noise I'm worried my home is falling apart at the seams which actually isn't that unreasonable of a fear because I've been working on redoing all the seams since summer when I realized my home is literally held together by silicone

[vacayisland]

@!; Meet the Wifie JD / Female! Reader

"Summary"! You had always heard about JD's brothers, but you had never met them before as you had gotten with JD after the band had broken up. Yet, while on a mission to save Floyd, you were slowly introduced to his brothers, each in their own silly yet loving ways. "Tags"! Fluff? Idk somehow a fight almost breaks with between the Reader and poor Clay. Also tumblr is being weird so praying this posts this way.

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @gtdkibf6jshhshjd

@!; Branch and Poppy would be the first to know the truth about JD; A truth he might have forgotten to tell his brothers back in the band days, and something he even forgot to tell Branch and Poppy before they rode in Rhonda for the first time. It wasn't like he was trying to keep secrets, far from it; JD was more than proud of this little secret he has managed to cheek, yet in the flurry of re-meeting Branch and meeting Poppy and getting them both down to help save Floyd, he might have forgotten this tiny detail. "Branch! You never told me you guys has a sister!" Poppy exclaimed as she bounced into Rhonda, beaming from ear to ear as she noticed another Troll inside; they were looking over a few scattered papers, receipts, post cards, anything that she's been able to dig up. Yet her attention was caught away from her search and study when three Trolls entered the little RV, even more so calling her JD's brother. She tried to explain to Poppy that she wasn't JD's sister, that she was in fact his girlfriend, yet JD stopped her before she could; raising a hand in her direction as soon as he saw her open her mouth. He playfully wiggled a finger at Poppy, "That's the wifie!" "You're married?!" Poppy exclaimed with excitement, while Branch seemed taken aback instantly; his attention filtered from you to JD, a silent question engulfing his eyes as he tried to fathom a world where someone would have interest in his older brother. "Well, uh, not technically?" JD rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled with nerves; While you chuckled, a bit more sweetly, along side of him. Poppy tilted her head in confusion, her arms dropping to the side as she tried to think of how JD called you his 'wife' but you guys weren't married. Branch stood next to Poppy, still trying to fathom this whole situation. Wondering how you, someone who seemed so... not JD, ended up with someone like his older brother. As in given example, you were careful to stand up and walk around all the evidence you had dug up from boxes of old things that JD had kept since his band days. While JD, while turning around to reach for your waist, almost stepped and step a whole stack of papers flying to the floor! You had stopped him before he did so, thankfully, playfully smacking his leg away from the stack so he would yelp but realize his mistake and draw his leg back. "Hi, it's so very nice to meet you two." You would extend your hand towards Branch and Poppy; In which, Poppy grabbed your hand first and shook it enthusiastically. "Hello! It's so very nice to meet you!" Exclaimed Poppy as she almost made your arm fall off with how vigorously she was shaking it, "I'm Branch's, JD's younger brother, girlfriend. And can I say, you have very lovely hair." You smiled at Poppy, though were glad to be able to pull your hand away when she finished the hand shake. With your other hand, you grabbed onto the closest hand JD had to you, interlocking your fingers.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you both. I expect you both know what's happening?" You received a nod from Poppy, while Branch just kept his eyes square on JD; who tried to play it cool, but you noticed the tiniest sweat drop rolling down his forehead. "Well then, Poppy, would you like to help me search for clues? I'm trying to find where Spruce is-" You didn't even have to finish before Poppy bounded over, grabbing your hand and rushed over to the pile of documents and files you had pulled out. It genuinely shocked you how much energy she had. But you were not going to let that scare you! What you and Poppy didn't notice, as you were sorting and shuffling around clues, was the 'I'm watching you' fingers that Branch gave to JD. In which JD just extended his arms, wondering what Branch was going on about. Branch, in response, glanced over at you and then back to JD with a cock of his eyebrow. Confused, JD turned towards you and Poppy and then back at Branch wondering what he was getting on about. But Branch wasn't going to say his thoughts out loud, not yet.

@!; Bruce would be the second one to meet you, and much like Branch he was confused on how this even happened. Unlike Branch, he was happy that JD finally had someone who could tolerate him and his bossy ways; That's not to say that Branch was unhappy for you or JD, he was just a little jealous and sour that after all this time JD had changed yet he couldn't have been there for Branch when he needed it. Those feelings shifted from time to time the more Branch saw you and JD interact, and he couldn't help but slowly feel guilty; Yet, still standing the fact that it wasn't all that fair. Either way, Bruce met you when Poppy, Bruce, and Branch came back to Rhonda after a successful mission and a dance number about Brozone being back. You were sat in the driver's seat, mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards; You had been asked if you would like to join the three, mostly by Poppy and JD, but you had declined as you weren't much of a people person. It's what drew you to JD at first, when you heard he was going solo around the globe in a 'soul-searching' journey. You asked more about it and slowly the two of you had grown closer than you ever thought would be possible. As such, you always tended to miss him dearly when he stepped off Rhonda. And, subsequently, is why you bounded onto your feet when you heard the door open. You didn't even mind that the deck of cards had spilt all over the floor as you heard your boyfriends all too familiar voice shout, "Honey, we're home!" Which was followed by a confused new voice, "Honey?" "You'll get used to it." And Branch's snarky comeback. They had managed to grab Spruce, no doubt, thanks to the post card. Yet, before JD could introduce you both, he had to take care of the loving and attentive girlfriend that had appeared right in front of him; Grabbing both his hands and welcoming him back with a big smile, while also accidentally stopping those from behind JD; Who had to awkwardly shuffle around the two of you. "What did you do?" JD quipped, smirking down at you with a curious look. He hadn't notice the stack of playing cards that had been left on the ground yet, which Poppy had began to pick up out of habit. "Nothing! I just missed you." Branch, standing next to Bruce, could swear he could see the definition of heart eyes in your eyes. He wasn't sure if he was actually happy for his brother, or a little grossed out, or jealous, or all the above with some plausible explanation for his emotions that he didn't feel like going into. JD, having forgotten that you two had company over, was quick to scoop you up into his arms, as he usually did when you greeted him back home. His arms rested under your thighs, supporting you as you sat on his forearms, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck while your legs wrapped around his waist. There was something always so peaceful yet exciting being this close to JD; Being able to clearly see his eyes, as you cupped his cheeks and leaned down to connect your foreheads. You were able to smell his cologne, which you swore you could get drunk off of. You could just feel his warmth and be able to take a moment to stop and breath and remember that he's here and he isn't going anywhere. You could just, be; Be here with JD and not have to worry about anything. And the way that JD tightened his hold, the way he looked back up at you with adoration... you knew he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you almost kicked him out of his own bus one time because he was being a pain in your ass. A cough from Branch, and awing from Poppy, snapped you both out of your love-drunk dazes. Causing you to sit up properly and glance over at the company, all the while you kept JD's cheeks cupped with your hands and he couldn't really tilt his head to see everyone. "You both are!... adorable!" Poppy shouted, bouncing on her toes as she held onto Branch's arm. You couldn't help but laugh as her reaction, noticing that she was refraining from shaking Branch with all her might.

"Yeah, very cute." Sarcasm leaked out of Branch, "But have you both realized we've been standing here for a minute? We need to go out and look for Clay so we can save Floyd!- Yet, Bruce only patted Branch on the shoulder, "Calm down, Bitty B! I wanna meet JD's partner." Along with giving you both a smile as you slide out of JD's arms and onto the floor. At least, you were attempting to do so, but JD only tightened his hold. "Bruce, meet the wifie; Wifie, meet Bruce one of my younger brothers. Good, there you guys meet. Now if you excuse us," And, though Bruce seemed to have wanted to met more, he simply walked away with you still in his arms. Which caused you to flush but laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder and asking what has gotten into him! But, then again, this was your boyfriend and he was usually this selfish with you.

@!; Clay met you in Putt-Putt Village, where you had been convinced by JD to come out with everyone else. He had claimed that it was simply too dark and spooky to let you stay home alone and he couldn't make sure you were properly safe in Rhonda. You tried arguing saying that he's left you in worse conditions, which seemed to get a rile out of Bruce who questioned him what you had meant. It was funny to watch JD sputtering out reasons and excuses and examples, but in the end you decided to join them. It would do you good to get some fresh air after so many hours of basically non-stop traveling. To say you regretted your choice as soon as the clown-head started talking would be an understatement. To say you weren't about to kill JD when gulf balls began to animate and roll around you, was an understatement. To say that you then didn't smack JD behind the head when everything turned out to be alright was... actually, that's not an understatement because that's exactly what you had done. "And you said I wouldn't be safe in Rhonda! When has she ever let me get surrounded by gulf-balls that actually turned out to be Trolls." You had 'scolded' JD as you smacked him behind the head. It wasn't anything hard, just a small one-two to see if he still had some sort of brain in there. JD jerked towards you with the most betrayed look you've every seen him give, "Babe!" JD sputtered, not knowing how to respond to you assault! "I'm about to go back to the trailer." You muttered, a little salty. Crossing your arms you turned away from JD and towards Viva, who was screaming about how the new guests needed friends and milkshakes; Which the other Trolls in the village jumped onto getting. "If you go back I might have to follow you to correct this attituded we're having." JD snirked slyly, crossing his arms as he flashed me a knowing glance. Wiggling his eyebrows and winking playfully, leaving you slightly baffled at his boldness in front of everyone. "JOHN D-" You started, yet was quickly cut off as you hadn't noticed Clay's sudden appearance; or how he had rushed over to say hello to baby Branch and Bruce, giving a lack luster response to JD. That itched you wrong. Sure, you knew JD hadn't been the best to his brothers in their band days but that still gave him no right to look and act like that towards JD. You momentarily forgot JD's comment, or the fact that he probably almost killed you earlier (to which he would rightly remind you about your flare for dramatics, and how much he loved them) and marched over to where Poppy, Branch, and Bruce where. Poppy was attempting to introduce herself to Clay, who stood in front of them, yet you pushed past them and stood as a barrier between the three and Clay; Who gave you a weird look, and was slightly taken a back by your forwardness. "Hel-" Clay tried, but didn't get very far in his greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you had a stick up your ass that someone needs to remove, Cupcakes." You spat at him as you crossed your arms, shooting him the nastiest glare you could fathom at this point. Which was nasty enough to get both Bruce and Poppy to back up a little, and Poppy to slowly inch Branch away from you and Clay.

Though Branch didn't seem to enjoy the way you were talking to his third eldest brother. He opened his mouth to say something, yet you cut him off, "Furthermore, is that how you're really going to greet your brother after all these years? With plain favoritism to the others despite everything he's had to go through and is trying to actively change because of everything that went wrong, huh?" "Oooh'kay, Babe," JD carefully walked over to you, knowing you were a little on the edge; That and you had smacked him behind the head earlier and he wasn't looking for another one of those. "How about we take a step back and go calm down-" "Nah, Imma beat his ass!" It wasn't the best first meeting you could have had with one of JD's brother, and it also put a little sour kick into the two you had met before, yet it was eventful, that was for sure. Who wouldn't find it eventful for having their older brother's spunky girlfriend almost beat their ass over a few choice words and actions towards him? Yeah... you were going to have to do a little bit of work to mend that with Clay.

@!; You officially, without the fear of him dying or any of the other brothers for that fact, met Floyd before the KISMET and BroZone concert backstage. You were there to support JD, and in turn his brothers. Sure, you had seen and heard all about Floyd before this moment but you weren't exactly sure what to expect from him. Especially since you knew that Clay or at least Bruce or Branch had told Floyd about the whole Clay fiasco on the way back. "You're (Y/N), right?" Floyd's voice from behind you caught your attention despite the current list of groceries you were writing. "Huh?" You muttered at first, having been caught off guard by Floyd's sudden approach. You couldn't help but wonder if he was here for some other reason than first greetings. "Yeah.. that's me... and you're Floyd, right?" Floyd would nod as you set down your pad and pencil on your lap, which was cross-crossed as you sat on the floor. Floyd, still a little worn down from all the talent that was taken from him, joined you on the floor and had decided to sit next to you. You weren't sure why, nor did you completely understand the sudden nerves that had struck in your body. You weren't this nervous when you met any of JD's other brothers; So, how come you were nervous now? Floyd seemed to notice this. His eyebrows frowned up as he smiled softly at you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm not here to scold you if that's what you're expecting." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, "I mean, I know what happened when you first met Clay but that's in the past, yeah? Plus, you were only trying to stand up for JD... which is sweet, I appreciated it." You jerked your head up to look at Floyd, a little baffled that he was so different from his other brothers. Before, you had been nervously fiddling with your notepad and pencil, unable to form a word to say to him. Yet, he seemed to somehow calm your nerves. Not instantly, like JD had always managed to do, but slowly with a firm reassurance. "Oh," You mouthed, before smiling, "Yeah, I still don't think I've made that up to Clay yet. I mean," You paused for a second, "I did kind of almost attack him just because he rolled his eyes at JD. It struck a wrong cord with me." Floyd chuckled, "Hey, don't worry, I get it. I always get that icky feeling whenever my brothers fight, but that's just how they are." "A ragtag team of brothers who both love yet hate each other at the exact same time?" You joked, cocking up an eyebrow. "And yet, we wouldn't have it any other way." Floyd replied with a smile, turning to look at his other brothers, who were all warming up and stretching. You glanced down at your notepad, reading the list of groceries you would need to get for the bus when JD and you set off again. There wasn't many placed to stop and get food on the road, unless you and JD gathered and hunted. "Hey, I don't know if anyone has told you this.." Floyd snapped you out of your thoughts again, "But thank you." You were baffled, "Thank you?" "Thank you," Floyd shrugged his shoulders, but his smile was so genuine and sweet. "For being there for John Dory when we weren't. For helping him at his lowest. You know, he talks a lot about you when you're not around and I don't think I would want any other Troll to be with JD than you. Welcome to the family, Sister-in-law." Floyd held out a fist bump, though knew you might need a minute by the tears welling in your eyes.

You had told yourself many, many years ago (when you first got with JD and heard about his band days) that you would never pick a favorite brother of his; Just incase it would cause some sort of family drama to arise. You didn't exactly have siblings, so you didn't really know what they fought about and what they didn't. So you told yourself if you ever met the brothers you would do your best to quell anything that came up. Yet, Floyd was making this very difficult right now... "JOHN DORY FLOYD IS MY FAVORITE BROTHER!" You rushed out, snagging Floyd's wrist and shoving it up in the air; To which he yelped, not having expected such a sudden reaction. John Dory, peaking in front backstage, stared for a moment. He hadn't fully heard you, but was able to quickly piece together what you had said: "WHAT?! BABE I'M MEANT TO BE YOUR FAVORITE!" "I don't make the rules JD, maybe you shouldn't have almost killed me!" "IT WAS ONE TIME AND NOTHING HAPPENED!" "Should have let me stay with Rhonda." You playfully shook your head towards your boyfriend, who stood in the doorway completely baffled and a little butt hurt. But, you couldn't help but laugh as his goofy expression, absolutely loving every part of him; His grumpy sides, his loving sides, and even his down-right baffled and confused sides.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[loveinhawkins]

Steve watches as Eddie drops the shield clumsily, just lets it fall into the grass. His hand—it’s not shaking, exactly, but there’s a delay to everything, to the way his fingers curl, like even the smallest movement takes so much effort.

Steve knows the feeling: when the whole world feels like wading through molasses.

Eddie comes to sit next to him, thunks the back of his head against the RV and winces. “Ow.”

Steve smiles. “We’ve got time, y’know.”

Eddie gives him a blank look. The shadows under his eyes are practically sunken in. “Time?”

Steve gestures out to the distance, where the kids are still playing, where Nancy and Robin are re-counting the supplies he’d noted down earlier. “Reckon you’ve got an hour or so, if you wanna get your head down.”

Eddie snorts. “Ah, sleep,” he says, with a wry smile. “What’s that?”

“Come on, man,” Steve says. “Gotta take any opportunity you can. Don’t want you collapsing before we flambé Vecna.”

Eddie mouths Vecna to himself a couple of times, blows out a breath. “God, my life… my life is fucking crazy.”

Steve chuckles slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“You’re used to all of this shit, though. Lemme guess, you can sleep just like that?”

“Hmm, not always,” Steve says, which… well, Eddie doesn’t know enough, he reasons, to realise just what an understatement that is.

Eddie sighs again. He closes his eyes, tips his head back against the RV—doesn’t look comfortable at all.

Steve moves closer, gently nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Hey.”

Eddie’s eyes open with prolonged, heavy blinks. “Hmm?”

Steve pats his shoulder in invitation. Eddie lets out an exhausted laugh. “Oh, my life just got even crazier.”

“What? It’s a perfectly good shoulder, dude, I dunno what to tell you.” Steve grins when Eddie keeps laughing. “It’s not bony or anything.”

“That so?” Eddie says, rubs at his eyes with a lingering smile. “You got good reviews?”

“Glowing. Five stars.”

Steve thinks about all the times he’s been a pillow for Robin or Dustin—Max, too, on the seldom few times he’s wheedled until she just took a damn nap, even if it was only for ten minutes.

He taps his shoulder again, goes quiet, more serious. “You’re dog-tired, Eddie. Come on, just ten minutes. Then you can trash my stupid shoulder all you want.”

Eddie just looks at him, considering. Then he huffs, glances upwards as if to say Fine, you win. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.”

And with some hesitancy, he tips his head down to the side and settles on Steve’s shoulder.

He’s tense still; Steve can feel it.

“Y’know, one of the best naps I ever had was ‘cause of you,” Steve says conversationally.

Eddie makes a disbelieving noise.

“It’s true. Uh, Winter ‘84, the period just after lunch, I think? Damn, can’t even remember what class it… Anyway, you were giving the teacher shit ‘cause of some test result, you just kept going, it was incredible. No work got done; I just put my head on my desk and slept, and no-one even noticed.”

Eddie chuckles, slumps a little more. “That’s…” And he yawns. “That’s depressing, man. You saying me going on and on was relaxing?”

“Yeah, like one of those meditation tapes. Except, uh, more aggressive.”

Steve feels more than sees Eddie smile. “You’re so dumb.” He hums tiredly, his head resting heavier and heavier on Steve’s shoulder. Voice small, he says, “Keep talking?”

So Steve does.

He keeps up a constant, one-sided conversation, speaking softly. Talks about what they’ll all do after this—mostly nothing, because everyone deserves a goddamn extended Spring Break, he’s decided.

And Eddie sleeps. He doesn’t twitch like Robin, and his head doesn’t nod forward like Dustin—like he’s reached such a level of fatigue that he can only be still. His breathing is deep and heavy in a way that Steve knows only comes from a rare, utterly dreamless sleep.

Steve just sits there for way more than an hour, doesn’t care when his back begins to protest at how unmoving he is. It’s only as the sun begins to set, as the group just begins to head back to the RV, when he reluctantly nudges Eddie.

“Hey. Hey, Eddie. Sorry. Time to get up.”

Eddie mumbles something, barely lifts his head before returning it to Steve’s shoulder. “Hmm… five more minutes?”

Steve sighs through a little laugh. Feels suddenly emotional for reasons he can’t fully explain. God, I wanna give you forever.

“Sure, yeah. Five minutes.”

But Eddie rouses after just a minute or two. Sits up and stretches. His eyes look a little brighter, his face no longer quite as grey.

“You were right, man,” he says lightly, gives Steve’s shoulder an endearing little pat. “It’s a nice shoulder. Gotta take good care of that.”

And his hand lingers there, holds on like he did when they were huddled round the Lite Brite. Like he’s saying Take care of yourself, instead.

Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand as he shrugs. “You get first dibs on it, when this is over,” he says.

And he means Come back.

[queersatanic]

Mistrial for Seattle 'Stop the Sweeps' Protester Charged with Standing on RV for 12 Minutes

In an apparent attempt to crack down on the handful of people who show up to sweeps to try to stop the City from trashing the possessions of homeless people, this week Seattle City Attorney Ann Davison’s office spent three days–and more than a few taxpayer dollars–prosecuting 26-year-old Aidan Carroll, a Stop the Sweeps protestor who allegedly ignored police orders when he tried to buy some time for a woman to repair and move her RV before the cops impounded it. After deliberating for more than seven hours, the jury ultimately could not reach a verdict, with four out of six finding Carroll not guilty. In the wake of the mistrial, prosecutors scheduled the case for pretrial Monday, and CAO spokesperson Tim Robinson said the City still needed to discuss the way forward. Retrying the case after most of the jurors opposed the prosecution would signal that Davison is more interested in bullying her political enemies than stewarding taxpayer dollars efficiently, calling into question her priorities as head of an agency still struggling under the weight of a 1,000-case strong backlog. Plus, if she believes this tactic will deter others from standing up for homeless people in the face of police, then she seems misguided. Members of ‘Stop the Sweeps’ have continued to show up and protest homeless encampment tear-downs in the aftermath of Carroll’s arrest.

[purelyfiction]

miami vice || rhett abbott

Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,015 words

Summary: tailgates and trucker hats and drinky decisions. that's all.

Content Warning:  HEY!! THIS HAS SMUT!! So if you’re under 18 pleaseeee go away. (brother's best friend, f fingering, choking, oral f receiving, missionary, safe sex, CNC because drunk, strangers to lovers, possession kink if you squint?)

Author Note: hey bitches i'm not dead - jk ily all sorry. if you can't tell i'm self indulgent and needed to put this horny energy somewhere other than my head. enjoy.

"HEADS UP!" You barely register the sound before a sand filled bag clocks you right across the top of your eye, making you curse and drop your beer, hand flying up to your eye. The voice has traveled from the other side of the tent to land in front of you, a large hand taking your shoulder. "shit, i'm so sorry 'bout that."

Finally blinking away the pain in your eyelid, you can open both of your eyes to reveal the jackass who'd struck you - a jackass in a black sleeveless tank with a backward trucker hat. Your chin drops as you look him in very blue eyes, which are flooded with clouded concern. "You good? C'mere," his hand moves from your shoulder to behind your back as he moves to your side, carefully tucking under the tailgate tent. The male moves to one of what had to be a dozen blue coolers tucked under folding tables, pulling it open and carefully pushing the cold can to the affected eye. You've not said a damn word as he carefully settles the drink to your forehead, eyes still trained on him. "Real sorry, again I- my buddy's got shit aim."

"It's fine, I'll just go back to my place looking like I got jumped. " Your quick retort has him chuckling as he guides your hand to take the can and hold it. After he's sure you won't drop it, he's grabbing another two cans, large hands able to handle them with ease, extending one to you as he polishes off the other he'd carried over with him.

"You can actually drink that one." This time, its you laughing at you watch him crush the now empty can and toss it in a nearby hanging trash bag, clicking the tab to open it, foam coming to the top. Instinctually, you're dropping down to catch it with your lips before it can overflow onto his hand, the aluminum still in his grip. Withdrawing, you carefully navigate it from his hands.

"Thanks. You always treat the victims your sloppy shooter assaults?"

"Nah, only if they're stupidly hot." The forwardness leaves your eyebrows to pop up, the pain dully reminding you how you got here in the first place. The nameless cornhole vigilante reaches up to the tent frame, gripping to the accordion metal and leaning in. "I don't think I recognize you? Are you bummin' booze off these guys?"

"First you hit me with a sandbag and then have the nerve to question if I'm crashing a tailgate that isn't mine?" No Name points to your with an index finger while the remaining fingers keep curled around his Miller Lite.

"Good point. Name's Rhett." Nodding in response, you're carefully moving back to the cooler to toss a somewhat warm can back to the cooler, and return to your spot. Sorta. The brunette somehow seems closer - at least his face seems that way. You introduce yourself in response, and he laughs. "Dane's sister?"

"That's the one. This is all him. The RV, the parking pass - the booze I'm 'bumming' from him." Another sip of his beer blocks the view of his devilish grin. It almost matches the flames of the shirt he's wearing. "Where's the accent from? Definitely doesn't sound like it's from here."

He would proceed to explain that he's originally from Wyoming, and had come down to compete in the National Rodeo Circuit finalist events. That made him a cowboy cornhole viglinate. Rhett had insane stories from his events - like how he fucked up his shoulder on one of his best runs and rode again the very next day. When he ran out of stories - two beers later - he was happy to attempt to get revenge on his former cornhole partner for smacking you across the face.

"You're absolutely ass at this!" He laughs, watching the bag splat against the concrete. Bouncing along to a nearby speaker you turn to him when the other two start collecting bags.

"I gotta admit - I've never played."

"You-" His face fills with surprise and disdain, shaking his head, "How have you never- damn it, we're teaching you."

On the next turn, Rhett keeps the bags to himself, and feeds one into your hand. Before you can throw it however, his larger hand comes under yours, fingers skating along your forearm before getting comfortable under your grip. His chest is flush against your back, his scruff brushing against your ear as he leans in. Thick drawl gives you instructions about the power you want to put behind the throw, moving your arm along with it. Guiding your toss, the orange bag goes flying through the air, lands on the board and slides right into the hole. "Atta girl."

You end up losing the game, mainly because Rhett's cheating by continuing to tug you backward by the belt loop every time you take a shot to the board. Each time you looked over at him with a scowl, he would sip at his drink, mumbling 'don't look at me'.

The closer and closer to game time that you got, the thinner and thinner the tailgate group got. Dane had started cleaning up, his friends helping him put things inside the RV and his friend's pickups. Rhett still clings to you like tipsy velcro, his hand stuck in your back pocket as you try to help pack things away.

"Here, I'll dump out the cooler."

"Rhett there's still-"

"Oh there's still beer in here. Would be a shame to let it go to waste." Tossing one to you - which you somehow catch - he's snagging Dane's keys from a nearby table, pushing the first key blade he can find into the bottom of the can, duplicating the hole in your can that he's guided to the horizontal position. Dropping the keys to his feet, he looks at you. "Do I gotta teach this shit to you too?"

"You gonna cheat at this too?"

"Who said this was a race?" He asks.

"This is always a race. Three, two-" Both tabs crack open as you push the cans to your mouths, shotgunning commencing without a final count. As you tilt the can properly, you realize that Rhett has already finished his can, dropping it to the pavement. How the fuck- you obviously can't ask as you continue to chug, your throat working as you keep downing the liquid. Rhett's hand, coated in beer, carefully tucks under your chin, pushing your head further back, back and back.

"You can take it." If you weren't so determined to show him up - you would've sputtered foamy wheat water everywhere. You nearly choke thanks to the new pace, but make a smooth recovery. Dropping the can, you gasp for air, throwing your head back as you let the beverage settle in your stomach. Looking at Rhett, he's got a stupidly large grin on his face, upper lip covered in beer foam. You're about to say something when Dane comes out of the RV, calling your name.

"You don't have tickets right?" Nodding, the cowboy looks at Dane and then at you.

"You're not going?"

"Unless you're tucking me into your purse, Rhett - no." Dane slaps the taller male's shoulder before reaching down for the keys on the ground and pushing them into your hand.

"These are yours 'til we get back," Turning to Rhett, he nods toward the stadium. "Ready to start walking?" The mid-west male starts patting at his jeans, all the way down to his boots. Popping up to his full height, he grips your brother's shoulder much like he had yours earlier.

"I can't find my phone or my wallet. Let me go check the RV - I'll just meet you at the seats." Dane nods, and moves to the rest of the group, starting the trek to the metal building. When they're out of earshot, Rhett's hand tucks back into your pocket again. "You wanna give me the tour?"

In the most hasty fashion, you clamber into your brother's RV, showing off the kitchenette/living area, before leading him to the bunk areas, where you'd be sleeping tonight. Rhett's hand hasn't left your pocket at this point. As you show off the tiny space, he laughs. "What's so funny?"

"It's cute y'think both of us are gonna fit in there." Like a tipsy cocker spaniel, your head tilts at him. Fingers move to grip your ass through your jeans, before he spots the pocket door to the owner's bedroom of the mobile home. He's easily pushing the door open, a larger queen sized bed waiting on the other side of the door. "That's more like it." Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own.

Rhett is efficient in pulling the jersey you were roasting in off your shoulders. The cowboy is about to let it hit the floor when you pull back. “Be smart about this.” You warn. Before you can blink, he’s thrown it to a side table and you back onto the bed.

“Or. You be smart and leave the commands to me.” A hand slides up from your lower back, up along your spine, soft finger tips electrifying the skin under them as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips busy themselves along your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses are soft and smooth compared to the sharp and coarseness of his stubble. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra- unlike the jersey- is discarded to the floor, leaving you in jeans that hugged you well, and sweat slick bare skin.

He carefully cups your breast, gripping onto it, a thumb rolling over the peak as your head cranes back. His kisses are getting shorter and closer and closer to your chest, until the warm and wet feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue forming many shapes in the process. Your hands are eager to tug the backwards hat off his head, fingers carding through his hair, tugging with teeth teasingly scraping your skin a moan lifts from you. “Oh did my girl like that?” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

As he keeps mouthing at your tits, his hands busy themselves with your belt and button of your pants. It’s damn near expert execution, jeans swiftly thudding to the floor, no awkward entanglement to be found. His maneuvers leave you with only your panties left to hide yourself from him, but even then, a curious index finger runs along your pussy lips through the skimpy material. Slowly, he pulls the elastic free from your skin, running along it in a pacing line, smirking up at you as he moves to the edge of the bed. "This is such a treat, cause I know that stadium doesn't serve tacos." Adjusting to sit on your forearms, you stare him down as his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. "Did you just call my pussy a taco?"

An idiotic and drunken smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. "Depends. Am I gonna starve, or are you gonna let me eat it?"

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. "Let me just set my plate here- that's just perfect." It takes mere seconds for his tongue to slide between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. He doesn't continue in his stripe patterns but in zig-zags, waves - patterns that tease you and just barely hit your clit. Rhett keeps this behaviour up until you're grinding up against him, his hands grabbing your hips. The hold is tight, and sharp blue eyes glare up at you, darkening as you whine.

"You're gonna stay right where I put ya. Y'hear?"

"But-" He snaps up back onto his feet, hovering over you again, his finger tips gliding along your skin and delicately wrapping around your throat.

"Wanna try that again?" It's punctuated with the slightest squeeze, the revelation that he was truly in control. You shake your head, and he smirks, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. "Good girl. You just sit there and look all pretty while I take care'a you." His hand at your lower half begin to pump in and out, his other hand still decorating your body in the form of a necklace. "You are just the damndest thing I ever did see, know that baby?"

Rhett's thumb comes from the side of your neck, tracing along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. "Open up, my girl." You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck intently - the digit stifling the moan that vibrates through you as he gets another finger into you. "God you are so fuckin' beautiful." It's muttered as his hand picks up a pace, your body relaxing and holding onto him tightly in two separate places. The faster his hand rocks into you, the more distracted your tongue becomes, he can tell. Which is why his hand pulls back, using the slick from your lips to begin rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. His lips trap yours momentarily, his tongue running along your teeth as his hands blindly work against you.

"Fuck, you are so wet for me, aren't you?" Rhett pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Aren't you?"

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes, god, I'm so wet, so wet for you, Rhett."

His hands retreat, moments from letting you finish with just his fingers. The male is rapidly undoing his belt buckle, slithering a hand into his back pocket, fishing out a condom from it. He sticks it between his teeth as he barely manages to get his hard on free from his boxers.

Part of you wants to ask him to let you put it on, let you admire the length that has sprung free from his jeans, but you know he's working against a running clock. Someone is going to notice he's taking too long. He didn't want to run that risk it seems.

The wrapper disappears somewhere. You're sure it remains somewhere in the RV floorboards, but as he's entering you, there's no fucking way you care where the evidence went.

Rhett presses into you, inch by inch, his lips playing with a spot on your neck. He stretches you so well, a hiss coming from you that times well with how he sucks a bite mark onto your skin. "My girl's so tight for me. Fuckin' so goddamn tight." His voice is low, gruff and right in your ear.

The smell of his body wash hovers over you, mixing with the newly formed scent of sex in the air as he pulls back, only to move forward again. "Sweetheart, you want me to move?"

"Yes, yes I want you to move-"

"Ask me nicely, baby." He freezes above you, staring you down, piercing blue eyes drinking you in like this. Sweat slick from the stale air of an RV and the Miami heat, tucked under him, captive.

"Please move, baby. Please, I just wanna come." The expression he makes strokes your ego in ways it likely shouldn't.

"Oh you're gonna come, I'll promise you that- you're gonna come." His hips begin rutting into you as he stands up a little further, hands coming up under your knees. Propping your legs up slightly, not fully extended but providing an angle to get even deeper into you, a sound escapes you, pinpointing exactly when he does. As his thrusts move quicker and quicker, your legs seem to slip from his hands, leaving him to reach up on the bed, snagging the nearest pillow.

"Hips up, sweetheart." A pant leaves him as he aids you to pop up, sliding the cushion under you. Upon the next thrust, and each one after, Rhett continues to hit the exact same spot, earning himself a rhythm of moans that time with his hips. "Oh honey, if they didn't know, they sure do now."

His hand drops between where the two of you meet, his thumb returning to do paces, sending you careening off the edge and into a blazing white haze, your body shuddering from the sensation.

Your cowboy continues his pace, no faster, no slower - continuing to ride out until you're nodding, encouraging him along. His pace picks up, his lips snagging onto yours as the sound of a cell phone comes from the floor. It only serves as encouragement for him, until he's finishing, his upper body hovering over yours as sloppy kisses and whimpers from him fill the soundscape.

His phone stops ringing, and when he pulls out, you remain trapped under him. Rhett gives you one more slow kiss before he moves to pull off the condom, cleaning himself up. "I think that big brother of yours is lookin' for me." He charms, pulling his pants back up, zipping himself up.

"Seems like it does." You offer, squirming on the bed, not ready to get up yet. Rhett pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding and confirming that's who'd called.

This time, your phone starts going off.

Simultaneously, his does too.

Then there's a pounding coming from the RV door.

[joshlmbrt]

I’ll ruin it all over, i’ll ruin it for you.

[ say don’t go ]

summary; a lingering touch, the fabric holding steve together, the thought of him loving someone else, and no happy ending you or steve.

warnings; no happy ending, angst, the upside down, talks of injuries & blood.

-

an; i haven’t planned a part two, BUT if you guys request it, i might do a part two. IDK THOUGH, you let me know what you guys want 🫶🏻

A SPECIAL TAG!!!! : @hollandweather 🫶🏻

𖡡 EDDIE’S TRAILER.

“Nancy? Nance!” His voice sounds too far away for you, and it. . . kind of was.

Necks bent up to stare at the gaping hole that Dustin, Lucas, Max, Erica, and yourself had created for everyone to jump through - you had told Steve you’d be the babysitter this time, he gave you a simple kiss on your lips before stepping onto the boat.

Now, back in the upside down, he was begging Nancy to come back.

Come back to him.

You couldn’t blame him, at this point. You would’ve freaked out too.

But the look on his face when he first saw her again, the grip he had on her when she had come out of the trance, nose pressed to her forehead, you knew.

And you felt your heart shatter at the realization.

Steve still loved Nancy.

And you’re back - although not competing to try and get his attention - pining for him.

And even though Steve was a good person - a good thing that had happened to you - has slowly, but surely, turned into something you dreaded now.

His breath hitches when your hands gingerly pull the fabric of the blue and white striped shirt, that Nancy currently wore away from his waist, his blood seeping and staining the fabric.

“Sorry.” You say softly.

He shakes his head, hand coming up to hold your shoulder softly. “It’s okay,” He breathes. “I was worried about you.”

You smile, though it doesn’t meet your eyes. “I was worried about you.”

Your eyes peek up at him, meeting with his soft caramel eyes, the golden specs that you loved so much.

Your eyes finally dip down to his neck, a deep frown setting your features.

Still so pretty.

“I’m okay,” Steve reassures, thumb dragging across your jaw softly. “Don’t think to much about it.”

“I’m going too.” You shake your head, eyes looking back down at the bite marks, grabbing the gauze from where it rested inside the sink. Your words weren’t a lie.

You were going to worry about Steve. And his intentions.

Once your hands finish wrapping the gauze around his waist, he presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a hug.

He smelt like he needed a shower, but you didn’t care.

Your hands wrap around him, hands resting on his back as you close your eyes.

“I love you.” He whispers.

A prickling sensation makes you curse internally, blinking quickly.

“I love you.”

-

𖡡 THE FIELD.

The sound of Eddie’s hammer beating nails into the metal lid of some trash can echos through the field.

You had finished with your own weapon, sitting by yourself on the steps to the RV you guys had stolen so recklessly.

Your eyes linger on everyone.

Eddie and Dustin.

Lucas and Erica.

Steve and Robin.

Nancy and Max.

You take a shuddering breath, looking away and down at your hands, your thumb dragging across your palm.

Your eyes take another glance up, noticing where Steve’s eyes linger before looking away.

Your chin quivers in thought before standing and making your way into the RV and plop yourself down on some chair.

Although you had chosen to sit in peace, you still felt to crowded.

The RV shakes slightly, Steve’s head of hair poking up before his face comes into view.

It was almost comical, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to laugh.

“Hey, what are you doing in here by yourself?” His voice was worried, so was his face.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He frowns, making his way over to you as he kneels in front of you.

“Hey, hey. What? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Crying? When did you start crying?

Then a sob escapes once you feel his hand rub at your arm.

His frown only deepens, standing and pulling you up as well, pulling you close. Your hair tangles in between his fingers, the shirt he had changed into was wet with your tears and scrunched up at the side from your fist.

“I need to let you go.” You finally say.

It takes a minute but his brain eventually short circuits once he figures out what you had said.

He pulls away, hands gripping your biceps.

“What. . . what are you talking about?”

“Even if it hurts me, I need to let you go,” You shake your head. His hands come up to rest against your wet cheeks, his own eyes becoming glassy. “You don’t love me, Steve.” You whisper.

“Don’t say that. I do love you-”

“- You love Nancy-"

His eyes squeeze shut, shaking his own head now. “Don’t. . . don’t say that.”

“And it’s okay,” You say softly. “It’s okay, I understand,” Your hand releases his shirt from your deadly grip and you clasp his cheeks softly. “I believed you did love me. . . But not anymore.”

“No, that’s not true. I still do. I don’t know why you’re doing th-”

“I’m willing to let you go to be happy with the person you want. And for you, I would do it over and over again if it meant being with you, even for a short while.”

“You don’t mean this.”

You rest your forehead against his softly, a sad smile on your lips.

“I love you, but I’m not for you, Steve.”

A small sob escapes his throat. Your lips press between his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, and you pull away softly.

“Please,” His hand quickly grabs your wrist, fingernails scratching down your skin, red tracks in its wake. “Please, don’t leave me. You. . . You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You go to open your mouth, but footsteps stomping up the stairs cause him to let go of your wrist, wiping at his eyes quickly and clears his throat.

“Get a room, you two.” Eddie makes a noise, pushing past you and plopping down on the couch.

Everyone takes their seats, you and Steve stare at one another quietly before you finally push away from him, sliding in to the small booth next to Robin.

Steve’s eyes still water, but he makes his way to the driver seat, sitting down.

“You okay?” Nancy asks, peeking over at him.

His eyes linger on you in the rear view mirror, a drained look on your face.

“No.” He answers honestly.

thank you for reading! comments, likes, feedback, and reblogs are always welcomed!

[seat-safety-switch]

You could fry an egg inside my car lately. I park outside, so the sun is always shining through the windows, heating up the interior. The peeling purple tint that was installed poorly in the mid-90s doesn't do much against it. As a result, every time I climb in, I basically scorch my hand on either the steel shift knob, the exposed metal of the worn-out steering wheel, or the exposed metal where my seat cushion used to be but currently is not.

Now, I want to warn you before we go any further. Although I did say you can fry an egg inside my car, I don't recommend doing so. For one thing, the egg is going to get a lot of microplastics inside it, and possibly a little bit of ash from the turbocharger burning off all that leaky oil. That's not really "health code," and I've got enough problems with bylaw as it is. It's a metaphorical egg, okay?

There were a lot of ways that I tried to solve this problem, but by far the worst was attaching a roll-out canvas cover. I stole it from an RV dealership, because I felt that the needs of the many (myself and everyone who has to interact with me) outweigh the needs of the few (the owner of the dealership.) Any idiot could tell you how this was supposed to work: I'd unfurl the awning and put it in a position that blocks the sun.

Unfortunately, physics has a thing called "wind." If you're not familiar, wind is so powerful that entire countries cook their toast using it. In my case, the canvas made a sort of white-trash sailboat sail. What's worse, the sail clapping against the body of my car sealed up all the giant rust holes through which the wind usually blew harmlessly through. With those two phenomenon combined, and also the parking brake I have that doesn't exactly work, my car blew down the street and well away from my house.

Normally, I would have been excited about being able to cover 40 miles without using a single drop of gasoline, but it's not nearly as much fun for your car to crash through a house when you're not behind the wheel at the time. I ended up telling the police some bullshit about it being a prototype autonomous car, which gave me enough time to cut the awning loose and escape while they looked up which billionaire was involved in funding it.

That said, the interior was nice and cool. All that brickwork I blew through did a fantastic job sinking the heat. Another success!

[rent-bin]

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[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter forty eight

close to home | chapter forty eight

plot: the reader gets to Hilltop and reunites with her family

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,536 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! As promised, here is a long chapter

The trip to Hilltop was about fifteen miles or so, but the car held up. With the A.C. blasting and some old CD playing, it was actually a nice drive. And Tora enjoyed spreading out in the passenger seat. Each time you looked at her and remembered you were free, you were overcome with such joy that you wanted to pull over and cry. 

But you knew you weren’t safe until you were inside those walls, and you wanted, more than anything, to be there. 

You started recognizing the area decently well, and to make sure you saviors never find the car, you set it in neutral a few miles out and let it drive itself into a tree. Then, you and Tora set out on foot. Unfortunately for you, it started raining when you were halfway there. 

It was nearing noon when you knew you were getting close, and with each step, your anxiety got the better of you. What if they’d left the community and headed back to Alexandria? And now the car was trashed, and you’d have to walk all the way there. You scolded yourself for being so stupid, for letting your excitement get in the way of reasoning. 

When you finally arrived at Hilltop, and it was just a drizzle, you hesitantly waited behind a tree. Tora, soaking wet and in your arms, was getting impatient. But you'd like to scope out the area first. You waited a few minutes, watching a man stand at their watch post you didn’t know. 

“What are you doing?” 

You jumped at the sound behind you, and Tora scrambled out of your arms. You grabbed your new knife and spun around, ready to attack, when a hand wrapped around yours. 

“Jesus,” You sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jesus laughed and let go of your hand. “You scared me. I couldn’t tell who you were while I was following you. Finally spotted Tora in your arms, and I knew.”

You shook your head and put your knife in the holster before giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“Are you okay?”

You stepped away from the hug and nodded. “Daryl’s here? And Maggie?”

“So are Sasha and Enid. Come on, I’ll bring you inside.” He said. 

You smiled, wiping wet hair from your face, and whistled for Tora, who followed you up the hill. 

“What were you even doing out here anyway?” You asked. 

“Gregory pissed me off; I needed air to cool off.”

You nodded and looked at the enormous walls that were now only meters away. The guard yelled down for them to open the gates, and slowly they pulled open. 

Your stomach was riddled with nerves as you walked through the gates. The light rain didn’t keep anyone down; you watched the community work through it. You supposed they had to, with the saviors taking half of what they owned. 

You were looking around instantly, trying to spot someone you loved. Finally, at the blacksmith hutch, you saw your cousin and dropped your bag. She was staring at you as if you were a ghost, and then broke out into a run. 

Already crying, you ran toward her and met in an embrace. Her body shook against yours, and you don’t think you’d ever felt her hug you that tight. When she pulled away, she grabbed your shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” She asked you.

You nodded, bringing her into another hug as you cried. You closed your eyes and squeezed yourself against her. “I’m so glad you’re okay, how’s the baby?” You asked. 

“The baby’s fine,” She said. 

When you opened your eyes and pulled away, you saw Enid and Sasha approaching you. You felt tears come on again, and you quickly gave them both a hug. Then, you heard one of the RV doors close, and you looked over to see Daryl walking out. 

You covered your mouth as you choked back a sob. You watched him freeze when he saw you there, but you couldn’t wait. You broke out into a run, your boots thudding against the muddy ground. Your gaze stayed focused on him as he ran. 

Your body slammed against his, and you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You cried hysterically as he gripped you tight, and you dug your face into the crock on his neck. Your hand ran down the lengths of his hair a few times before you leaned back and cupped his face in your hands. 

You didn’t hesitate before kissing him. You couldn’t take waiting any longer. You kissed him quickly like you couldn’t get enough of him. Like each movement of his lips brought life back into your body. You didn’t care that you could taste both of your tears; you were just so relieved to be back in his arms. To be with him again. 

“I missed you,” You told him between each kiss, “I missed you so damn much.”

When your feet were on the ground again, you couldn’t help but pull his face towards yours for another kiss. His hands squeezed around your waist, and you had to pull away from him so you could cry. 

“I thought ya didn’ get out,” Daryl said, breathing heavily and you could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry. “I was so scared. Maggie wouldn' let me go try and find ya, was tryin' find a way to get outa here.” He admitted to you, dropping his head and resting it on your shoulder. You pressed a few long kisses against the side of his head. 

“I’m here; it just took me a little while,” You told him reassuringly. 

That was when you felt the presence of others, and you and Daryl pulled apart. Maggie, Enid, Sasha, and Jesus were waiting for you. You felt your heartache at Maggie and Sasha’s pained expression, and you walked over to your cousin to give her another hug. 

“I’m so sorry, Maggie.” You whispered to her. 

“Let’s get you inside, we can go to my trailer. Let’s get some food in you,” Maggie told you. 

You nodded and let her walk you towards the trailer she lived in. You grabbed Daryl’s hand as you passed him, not that he needed any encouragement to follow you anywhere. You whistled for Tora, who came running. 

Once inside, Maggie quickly found some dry clothes, and everyone turned so you could quickly get dressed. Maggie busied herself by making you a sandwich, and when you saw it was peanut butter and jelly, you laughed. 

“Where’d you find this?” You sat down at the table and quickly devoured it. Then, after Maggie told you about Jesus’ last run, you spoke through a full mouth. “The Kingdom gave me a shit ton of food. It’s in my bag.” 

They laughed at you, aside from Daryl, who nervously paced and kept looking at you. When you nodded towards the seat next to you, he sat down. 

“How the hell did you end up there?” Maggie asked you. 

You wiped crumbs from your mouth, took the glass of water Maggie had given you, and took a long sip before you answered. “It’s a long story. Everything is a long story.” 

“I need to know everything,” Maggie said, grabbing your hand across the table. “What did they do to you?”

You gulped and looked around at Enid, Sasha, and Jesus. Daryl knew parts of what happened, and Maggie knew nothing. You slowly nodded. “Okay. I was held in this closet of sorts. I don’t know what it was. I was there for… two or three days, I think. And one of Negan’s wives came to me--”

“One of his wives?” Sasha asked you. 

You nodded. “He has several. The one that came to me was Sherry. She brought me to this room where the wives mostly stayed. She showed me what was going to be my room. And she told me… she told me that if I didn’t submit to Negan that it would mean bad things for... for Daryl.” You said, looking at him. He was staring at you, biting his lip, and shaking his leg with anxiety. 

You turned back to everyone else as you touched Daryl’s knee. “So I did. I said I was Negan, and I agreed to marry him. Sherry told me she had been in the same situation and had to do the same. So that’s what I did because I was scared.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Maggie rubbed your hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Once I was his- his wife, things changed. Sherry showed me around. I got to take whatever I wanted. I got to just take things. I didn’t feel right about it. And the wives… guys, they weren’t evil women. They were just like me. Scared. Desperate to live or help their families live. I couldn’t hate them. I tried, but I couldn’t. And not Sherry. She helped me with everything.

“And Negan, he took a liking to me, I guess. He did things for me. He brought Tora to me. And when Carl came, he let me talk to him. Sherry told me Negan didn’t do anything like that.”

Maggie looked at you and squeezed your hand. “Did he…?”

You shook your hand. “No. There’s a rule about that kinda stuff. It’s not allowed. If you even try it… you’ll be killed. But Negan knows the wives were only doing it because they had to. They wouldn’t have said yes otherwise. And I knew, I knew that if I was there any longer, I would have to do the same.” 

“That bastard,” Sasha muttered. 

You took a deep breath and blinked back a few tears. “I’m okay. I am. Sherry planned it all. She got Daryl out. We had to take a different exit and just needed to put as much distance between us and the compound. And then she told me she wasn’t coming with me. She wanted to leave, get far away. And she was gone, and I couldn’t find my way here. I was lost in the woods for days.

“When I finally found a town, I guess it was near the Kingdom. They saved me and brought me back. I met Morgan there. I got there only a day after you left,” You looked at Daryl. “I met Ezekiel and everyone else. They wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t. I wanted to come home.”

Maggie stood up from the table and gave you another hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“Me too."

***

Eventually, Enid, Sasha, and Jesus departed, and Maggie followed soon after. They were working at making as many weapons as possible, and she had gained some leadership roles. You weren’t surprised. 

So it was finally just you and Daryl, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. He looked so defeated and run down. It broke your heart. 

“Ya want somethin’ else to eat?” He asked you, “I can make ya ‘nother sandwich.”

You shook your head and reached out to him. Daryl let you touch him, of course he did, because he’d been craving that touch for weeks. So you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to sit, but you didn’t care.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more,” You told him, hiding your face in his neck. 

Daryl shook his head as he pulled you closer to his chest. “Ya did everything,”

You started to cry again. “I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

“Don’ say sorry. ‘M the one who should be sorry. I couldn’ protect ya like I promised I would. I couldn’ stop them from tryin’...”

You leaned back and looked at his face, brushing away his hair so you could see him. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

Daryl nodded, and you could see tears forming, and you knew that moment would haunt him for a long, long time. You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” You told him. 

“Do ya promise he didn’ touch ya?” He asked you. 

“Negan didn’t touch me. I promise.” You reassured him, running your fingertips down the side of his face. “God, I missed you so much,”

You were kissing him again, hard, trying to show him how much you missed him. Tears burned your eyes as you did, and you sighed into him. His chest was moving quickly against yours, and he squeezed your waist. It was like a reflex to him, and you loved it. 

You pulled away before the kiss led to other things, and you looked at his face, taking in the bruises and cuts, the bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted, and you knew he probably wasn’t sleeping. You furrowed your eyebrows and ran your fingers against his face again. 

“You’re the most handsome man in the world,” You whispered, giving him one final, light kiss. “I thought about you all the time. I watched you from that wives' room. Out on the fence. I’m sorry they did that to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.” 

“Stop,” Daryl whispered. “Please don’ say ya sorry.”

You closed your eyes and nodded. “I don’t wanna be apart again. I know things were up in the air before, and I know things are going to be harder, and we’re going to war with the saviors. But I can’t do that again. I wanna be with you. Always.” 

“Nothin’ gonna take ya away from me again,” Daryl told you. You knew that was him agreeing to it. Agreeing to be with you, whatever that means in this world. 

“We should go out and help,” You finally said. “There’s a lot to do. And I wanna help.”

“Just like at the prison, throwin’ ya self right in there.”

You smiled and slowly moved off his lap. “Why would you expect anything else, Daryl Dixon?”

When you stepped outside, the sun was breaking through the clouds. You looked up at it and smiled, enjoying the feeling of it being on your skin. You’d missed it so much when you were at the Sanctuary, and this was nearly heaven to you. It was a blissful feeling. 

You spotted Maggie at the blacksmith and led Daryl over to her. She smiled when she saw the two of you, even though it had only been a few minutes since she did. When you asked her what she needed you to do, she put you and Daryl to work. She asked Daryl to help with the blacksmith and you to help her tend to the gardens. 

You knew Daryl didn’t like the idea because he wanted to stay close to you, but you gave him a reassuring nod and followed Maggie to get the supplies and head to the garden. Besides, you could see each other clearly.

“So you two are together now?” Maggie asked you, handing you gardening gloves. 

“We were before, just… I don’t know. We are.” You said quietly, as guilt consumed you. “Maggie, where’s his grave?”

She froze for a moment and looked up at you. “He’s here. I should’ve brought you sooner. I know how much you loved him.” 

Her words stabbed your heart, and you followed her to where the graveyard was. Only two bodies were buried there. Glenn and Abraham. She brought you over to Glenn’s, and you knelt beside it. 

Tears spilled out, and you placed your hands on the dirt. “I miss him,” You said quietly, “Both of them.”

“Me too,” Maggie said. 

You looked up at her then, at your beautiful, strong cousin. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I am so sorry, Maggie,” You said. 

“Hey, you didn’t know what Negan would do. You were trying to save Daryl. I don’t blame you or him for anything,” Maggie grabbed your hand. “He’s a monster and a killer. Glenn was beautiful. And we both know he would’ve been glad it was him instead of one of us.”

You nodded slowly and squeezed her hand. “Daryl blames himself.”

“I know. He won’t really talk to me.” Maggie said, “I don’t blame him. He’s the only one that had the courage. He couldn’t have known…”

“I love you, Maggie.” You told her. “We’ll make this right. He’ll pay for it.”

Maggie smiled at you, “I love you too, (Y/N).”

***

You helped Maggie with whatever she needed for the rest of the day and then sat with Enid and Sasha in the trailer while Maggie finally talked to Daryl. You knew that what you told her affected her, and you knew how much she loved and respected Daryl. You were all family. 

When Maggie returned with teary eyes, she looked relieved and hugged you. Then she sat down with you and helped herself to a second plate of the meat pie that was made for her and, by extension, you. 

“Daryl’s been sleeping in a tent in the back, says there’s too many people here,” Enid told you. “It’s been me, Sasha, and Maggie, so I guess I don’t really blame him.”

“He seemed like a burden was off his shoulder, but he might need some company.” Maggie told you. 

You nodded and finished your last bite of dinner. “Subtle.” You told the two of them, to which they chuckled. It was good to see Maggie laugh. 

After clearing your plate and kissing your cousin on the head, you left the trailer. The night air was cooler, and thousands of stars were in the sky. It was breathtaking, and one of the things you loved about this new world. No light pollution. 

Daryl was sitting at one of the tables, and you approached him slowly, giving him a once-over. You didn’t want to crowd him after his conversation with Maggie. 

“Hey, old man,” You said quietly, walking up to him. 

He grunted, “Not an old man.”

You smiled at his words and looked at his plate. “Finish that, okay?”

He nodded, and you sat down next to him. Well, he was sitting on the table while you took the bench. You watched him eat, not seeing his face well because of the night, but enough. He looked so handsome, despite how rough he looked. 

“I hear you got a tent. Room for one more?”

Daryl looked at you then. “I thought ya woulda wanted to be in there.” 

You shook your head, “I love them, and I’m so happy to be here, but I don’t miss all of us cramped in one space. Besides, I wanna be with you, Daryl. So, do you have room for me?”

He stood up and jumped down, then reached out for your head. “I’ll make room.”

The tent behind the medical trailer that belonged to him was decently big. It reminded you of the tents you used to have camping with your family. There was enough room for two people to fit comfortably, but that was about it. 

Daryl turned on a lantern and you watched with a smile as he moved around things to make room for you. Smiling to yourself, you zipped up the tent behind you and helped him spread out the blanket and pillow, and move everything else to the side. You took off your knife holster and set it with your boots, and then slid out of your leggings and took off your bra. 

“Sorry, it’s on the ground,” Daryl said to you quietly. 

“You realize I’m the same woman who spent weeks sleeping next to you on the ground without a tent, right?” You said. “You don’t have to be nervous around me. It’s me, okay?”

He nodded and pulled the cover back for the two of you. Within a few seconds, you were cradled in his arms, and the lantern was out. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, and his arm around your waist. The blanket was wrapped around the two of you, keeping you from the chilly night air. 

“I missed this,” You mused, bringing your leg up to rest against his and trying to get closer to him. 

Daryl kissed the top of your head, and you smiled, soaking up your pure happiness. You never thought you would have this again. And now that you did, you would never give it up. 

“What ya did for me, back there, I don’ know how I could ever repay ya,”

You looked up at him, “Daryl, you never have to. After everything you’ve done for me. I would’ve done anything to keep you safe.”

“Ya married him to keep me safe. I don’t…” His voice trailed off. “It’s all I could think ‘bout.”

You pressed your hand against his cheek and propped yourself on your other arm. “Of course I did. And you never have to thank me for it. Never.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

[cthulhusstepmom]

Fae!Soap Superstitious Bastard! Ghost: Gifts

(Just a heads up this got way more intense than I meant it to but that’s kind of the Fae for you.)

TW: mentions of torture, human remains

Soap is a collector, though not of any one thing that Ghost can discern. He’s seen the man pick up anything from an abandoned rolex to a nondescript piece of broken glass. It doesn’t seem to be about size, it’s not shape and definitely not value; Ghost had thought he’d pinned it down as things that caught the light a certain way but was swiftly proven wrong when Soap went on a spree of collecting pebbles and sticks. He’d glared sullenly at the first jagged gray rock when Soap had picked it up before swiftly changing the subject when he was noticed. There was no apparent rhyme or reason to any of it… well not quite. There was one singular pattern that stood out in his mind, a single thread that held firm no matter how much he rearranged or plucked at it.

 Anything that Ghost gave him, Johnny kept. 

The first had been a bit of pretty blue ribbon that was a close enough approximation to Soap’s eyes. It’d snagged on a bramble bordering the clearing where Ghost had set up for overwatch. Without even thinking he’d snagged it on his way to RV down the hill, offering it to Johnny in the armored car taking them back to base. Soap hadn’t said a thing. It was then that Ghost realized maybe giving your subordinate a piece of trash you’d found in a bush perhaps wasn’t the most well adjusted way to express affection. He’d been about to play it off with a quip, beginning to retract his fingers ever so slightly, when Johnny snatched it lightning quick from the palm of his hand, holding it close to his chest for a moment before stuffing it into his chest pocket next to his journal. Soap had given him a small strangled “Thank you” as they sat the rest of the ride in an awkward but warm silence. Johnny disappeared almost immediately after they got back to base but Ghost could see light in the space under his door so he wasn’t too worried that he’d done permanent damage to their relationship.

After that his eyes just seemed to catch on things that he assumed Johnny would like. He couldn’t help it. Little glass marbles, a river stone with an interesting marking, a large brown feather; Somehow it all made its way into the hands of his Sergeant. Usually with a gruff “Here”, barely waiting for Johnny to hold out his hands before he dropped his small offering into his gloved palms. Soap has also gotten over whatever his episode of silence had been, responding with a blinding smile and enthusiastic gratitude and a happy quip. (“Thanks Lt!” a piece of antler, Montana “Y’ shouldn’t have!” an old toy car, Finland “Find this on sale?” a scrap of pink fabric, Brazil “Ghost you’re spoiling me.” green river stone, India etc.(no he didn’t catalog all of them that would be creepy. He only wrote down his favorites.))

The next time Ghost thinks he’s permanently damaged their relationship and scared Soap off for good comes after an operation sweeping out an AQ base in Afghanistan. 

It’s stuffy and dark, the blistering heat of the day beginning to fade into the bitter chill of the night. The compound has long since been abandoned by all but the stubbornest of rats, slowly being reclaimed by the wild desert it carved its blackness into. They roll into the courtyard through the open front gate, the outer walls have seen multiple breacher charges and calling them walls at this point is more out of respect than any dedication to accuracy. The whole place has already been swept by drone and Laswell has had satellite eyes on it for months confirming just how fucking dead it is. They’re here for information, the drone identified documents left behind as well as at least two hard drives. 

The 141 has split off, each clearing their own section and radioing in at even intervals, they’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to be safe than sorry. Beyond extra caution, the whole place has an eerie, black aura that drags forth memories of scorpion stings and dull knives biting at his flesh. Assisting in his nightmarish stroll down memory lane, Ghost is assigned the lower levels of the compound. Each room is another scene from a past he tries to forget, filled with rusted over implements of pain and brown stains no one cared to clean. 

Something in the last room makes him pause. 

A small barred window allows light from a waning moon to pool into the room, catching on something on the table. Small, most no bigger than his fingernail, a collection of about five objects sits in a tray on the corner of the table. Brilliant white patches shine in stark opposition to the bed of rust brown they lay on. 

Teeth. Human teeth.

His mind is acting on autopilot when grabs them and stuffs them in a pocket, so similar but so different to his first experience with the ribbon months ago. He finishes his sweep of the room, conveying his findings back on comms (“Seems like we’re late for the party.” “If only you didn’t take so long to get ready.”-Soap “Shut the fuck up the both of you I just saw a rat the size of a terrier.”-Gaz “I’ve got the hard drives if any of you fuckers remember why we’re here.”-Price), and turns back to rendezvous, his mind now firmly on finding his comrades and getting the hell out.

As they start readying themselves to duck into the humvees they arrived in, Ghost’s muscle memory kicks in to complete his self assigned mission objective. He turns to where Soap stands almost expectantly at his side. It’s not every mission that he has something he’s decided is a worthy offering but it has become more often than not. Mind already halfway back to base, a gloved hand chases down each tooth where they’ve burrowed themselves in the pocket of his tac vest, collecting them and dropping them in Soap’s proffered hand with a grunt. His brain turns back on when the bloody bones hit his Sergeant’s glove, panicking because what the fuck did he just do? What kind of fucking sociopath gives his friend(more?) human fucking teeth as a souvenir. Much less human fucking teeth that were pulled forcibly out of some poor bastard’s skull during a bygone torture session. 

His hand is trembling. 

Ghost forces himself to look down and meet Soap’s assuredly outraged and disgusted gaze. 

Only he doesn’t.

Johnny is staring down at the teeth in his palm with a look of fucking reverence. His pupils are dilated beyond just the darkness surrounding them and Ghost’s detail oriented eyes catch the slight flare of his nostrils on every inhale. Soap slowly tilts his head up to meet Ghost’s eyes and a gasp lives and dies in his throat.

“Oh Simon, you treat me so well.” His voice is gravelly and thrumming with an emotion that Ghost doesn’t know the name of. But, god if this is the look he gets after bringing Johnny desiccated human remains?

He’ll rip the teeth out of some unworthy son of a bitch himself.

[angelsanarchy]

Tangerine Skies: Possum x Y/N Series CH 4

Tagging: @svgarcaine @icarus-star @romanroyapoligist @tempt-ress @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @liquidsmoothdomme @auggiethecreator @ethical-cain-vinnel @blacksoul-27

TW: Fucking, P n V, Fingering, Squirting

"Wait, John! Where did my tips go?" Y/n looked for the jar that sat on the countertop.

"You know those have to be split." He snorted.

"I'm the only person working doubles. Who the hell am I splitting them with?" She asked confused and he held up the cash in his hand.

"You know the rules darlin'. I let you work here, you've got to pay me." She hated John. He was a scummy, perverted trash goblin who constantly took advantage of the women who worked at the diner. The one time he made a pass at her, she almost broke his wrist and threatened to cut his pecker off if he ever tried again. Now he's an absolute prick about paying her.

"This is bullshit and you know it." She took her apron off and tossed it on the counter.

"You could always quit. Plenty of broads around here looking for pocket change." Y/n gave John the finger before getting in her car and heading back to the campsite. She must have startled Possum because he ran out of his tent with wide eyes.

"I thought you were a cop...sorry." He admitted. Y/n ignored him and stormed into the RV. Possum stood confused until she burst back out of the RV with a change of clothes in her hands and slammed them down on the picnic table.

"I'm so fucking sick and tired of having to put up with the bastards of this stupid town and making it seem like anyone who wasn't spit out here is some sort of loser." She tore her nametag off her blouse and Possum continued to stand silently, listening to her rant.

"I work really fucking hard to be able to live how I live and all I wanted was to save enough for me to get out of here and back on the road for my next adventure." She kicked her shoes off and started to take her pantyhose off.

"I shouldn't have to work twice as hard because I have goals beyond this place. It's not fair." She started undoing the buttons of the uniform and Possum's eyebrows went up. She peeled the uniform off and stood in her bra and panties now as she raged.

"Why does it seem like I'll never get out of here? Why is it acceptable for perverts to hold the power of a paycheck over someone's head?" She stepped into a pair of shorts and Possum nodded his head.

"Sounds like you had a bad day." He finally spoke lighting a joint.

"I did. I had the worst day and I wanted to quit so bad but I only need another grand before I can get out of here and go where with enough gas." Y/n explained throwing a big shirt over her head.

"I can't help with that but I can certainly help take the edge off." He held up the joint and walked it towards her. She slouched feeling the tension leave her shoulders and Possum smiled, reaching up and pulling her hair down so she was now fully relaxed. Y/n shook her hair out and Possum laughed. She liked to see him smile. She took the joint from his hand and took a long drag of it, stepping back and looking him over.

"How high are you right now?" She asked curiously.

"I'm lucid...why?" He asked equally curious about her questioning. She moved towards him carefully and extended her hand with the joint in it but when he reached for it, she pulled it back towards herself slowly causing him to step towards her. She used her free hand to touch his neck and kiss him carefully. Possum moaned against her lips for a few moments before pulling back.

"Would you object to taking the edge off a different way?" Y/n pitched. Possum moved his lips trying to form words but then made a noise like he was trying to calculate something in his head.

"Are you suggesting that we fuck?" Possum asked casually. Y/n nodded her head and Possum mimicked her nod.

"Yeah yeah that could work." He was the one to grab her this time, taking her by surprise as he kissed her once more. Running his hands up the front of her shirt and gripping her breasts roughly. Y/n felt him backing her into the picnic table until her legs hit it.

"W-wait, the joint." She held it up and ashed it out on the table and put it in his pocket before pulling his vest off. Y/n yanked her shirt over her head and Possum picked her up off her feet by surprise.

Possum buried his face into her tits, still tightly snug in her bra. He sat down on the picnic table and brought her to straddle his waist.

"You don't- you don't want to fuck in the RV?" Y/n asked breathlessly.

"No I enjoy being outside, in nature." He unclasped the bra and let her tits fall into his hands, cupping them and bringing them to his mouth to suckle and bite. Y/n moaned, throwing her back to expose her neck. She could feel Possum hard beneath her and she put her hand down to rub him through his jeans.

Possum stopped abruptly.

"I did this backwards." Possum confessed standing back up and putting her on her feet. She wasn't sure what he was talking about until he started to undress himself. He yanked his shirt over his head and Y/n pushed her shorts to the ground before reaching forward and pulling his jeans to his ankles. He pulled her by the waist towards him as he shuffled his feet now trapped by his jeans and boots. He spun her around to grip the table and pressed himself against her ass.

"Fuck...go slow, I haven't...I haven't done this in a while." Y/n was nervous. Possum's length alone would be a new sensation. He ran his tongue down her back leaving little bite marks on her bare ass cheek before reaching between her legs and feeling how wet she was.

"I won't hurt you. I promise." Possum kissed at her neck, letting his cock rub against her skin before using a free hand to bring his cock to her pussy. He eased in slowly feeling her tense slightly and reaching back to touch his thigh. He cooed in her ear making sure to stay at the pace she wanted him to before he had finally made it most of the way inside of her.

"Fuck you're so big. I feel so full." Possum let his hand fall on top of hers as it rested on his thigh.

"That's a good full right? No pain?" Possum asked making her turn her head to see him.

"God no it feels good. Really good. You can move, please." Y/n begged. Possum took her breasts into his hands from behind and tried to keep a tight grip on them as he started shallow thrusts. He groaned and waited for her to push back onto his cock before he really started pistoning his hips upwards.

"Fuck! FUCK! You're so fucking tight." Possum whined trying to catch his breath. Y/n didn't hide her moans. Possum was right. Fucking outdoors was liberating. She could feel everything all at once and she fucking loved it.

"Fuck, fucking fuck." Possum's pace was becoming sloppy and he pulled out suddenly, making Y/n gasp as he pushed his hand in the middle of her back so he could cum all over her ass, shooting nearly halfway up her spine. He shuttered, stroking his cock carefully, pulling every drop of cum out of himself before using his finger to slide his cum off her skin and onto his fingers. Y/n wasn't expecting to finish but when Possum replaced his cock with his two cum-covered fingers.

"Oh fuck Possum, don't stop." He used this as motivation to spin her around and use his thumb on her clit as he continued to pulse his fingers in and out of her pussy. She gripped him by the shoulders and he leaned against her, letting her pull on his hair and bit his collarbone until her legs started to wobbling and she was squirting down his wrist, screaming. He slowed his hand down, not stopping completely until she put her shaking hand on top of his to halt all movement.

"I've never...I've never done that before." Y/n blushed. She had never actually squirted before or really cum without helping herself along. She blushed and Possum smiled.

"I can show you how to do it all the time if you want." Possum offered and Y/n laughed.

"Right now, I just want the feeling back in my legs first." Possum used his shirt to wipe the cum off her and clean himself up. As they put themselves back together, Possum re-lit the joint and sat down next to the fire he had built early. Y/n walked onto the RV and grabbed a blanket to wrap around herself before plopping down next to Possum with a smile. He silently held out the joint again and she took it, shaking her head.

This was the kind of evening unwinding she wished she had every night.

[omgthatdress]

I’m assuming Maryellen’s Vacation Playsuit is meant to go with her Airstream trailer, campfire cook set, and hiking accessories, even though it looks like it’s much more suited to playing at the beach instead of a rugged hike through the woods. Would really like to see a proper hiking ensemble for her, but the playsuit is fucking adorable so I’m just gonna love it.

And her airstream. OMFG WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT. LOOK AT HOW FUCKING ENORMOUS IT IS.

Trailers, campers, RVs, and mobile homes were popularized in the 1950s as outdoorsy home-away-from-homes for the middle class. You could tow one behind your car and have a way to travel and go camping that didn’t involve actually experiencing discomfort.

People figure out pretty quick that they made for decent living spaces, and they were actually advertised as being a mortgage-free way to own a home.

Anyone who grew up in America knows that “trailer” quickly became synonymous with “trash.” To show how the mobile home went from an object of middle-class luxury to one primarily associated with poverty, I’m going to trace the history of what was once the skankiest trailer park in Seffner: the Scarab Trailer Park.

The property was bought in 1951 back before Seffner suburbanized, and it was primarily orange groves and scrubland. It had several trailers permanently parked there, as well as a couple of small office buildings. It rented trailers for the week, so families living in Tampa who wanted to get away for the weekend could come out and enjoy nature.

By all accounts, it was a really nice place, and had it been preserved, the trailers there would have been excellent relics of mid-century design. Along with vacationing families, the single-week rentals made the trailers popular abodes for the migrant farm workers who came in to work the orange groves.

Soon, Seffner went from being out in the boonies to being the suburbs. Two strip shopping centers were built on either side of the park. Families didn’t want to vacation here any more. The week-long rentals meant that the park was now primarily being occupied by the very poor and transient. In the 1970s, the property was sold to a new owner who was very uninterested in keeping the park the nice place it once was. One of the other things about living in trailers is that they weren’t built to last like a proper home is. They started falling apart, and their tenants didn’t have the money to make repairs. By the 90s, the Scarab Trailer Park was fucking gross.

In 2004, the property was once again sold, and the new owner evicted the tenants on very short notice, leaving them effectively homeless.

The trailers were torn down, and today the property is a Tractor Supply Store. Landlords are scum of the fucking earth. Capitalism must be destroyed.