gasoline can

Crazy lady lit my buddy's land on fire, so he burned down her world.

Buckle up, this one’s long.

I was visiting a friend who owns and operates a trailer park- basically his house is the main office. A couple had just moved in to a lot with their mobile home. The dude seemed fine, and him and his girlfriend had just had their first kid. Well, at 3 AM just a few hours after I arrived, the boyfriend showed up at my friend’s house (the main office). Apparently, he had a DNA test done, and he found out the kid wasn’t his. So while the girlfriend was still in the hospital he started f*cking around on her to get back at her.

Well, earlier that day, she got released from the hospital, and he refused to go pick her up. So she walked from the hospital to the trailer park (easily 20 miles), and found him f*cking this girl. She went apeshit. She started trashing their tiny mobile home while he and his mistress quickly got their clothes on, and the boyfriend opted to drive the mistress back to her place.

When he got back, his soon to be ex-girlfriend locked him out of their mobile home. So, at 3 AM he showed up at the front office to call the police. My buddy woke me up, filled me in on the situation, and I went out to his living room to keep the dude company. I explained that if the kid isn’t his and he signed the birth certificate, he has 60 days to remove himself from the birth certificate- otherwise he’ll be on the hook for child support. I also explained that while calling the cops is a good idea, they likely won’t be able to remove her from the mobile home since she had established residency.

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First Time

Can you do an imagine where the reader is the Byers middle child (She’s only like 10 months younger than Jonathan) and her and Steve are dating and she’s with Steve and the kids in the last episode (whilst Nancy Jonathon and Joyce are with will in the cabin) idk where I’m going with this basically I just want fluff

Send your own request here!

Note: It’s been like two years since I’ve written something like this (reader-insert/fluff) and I’m super, super rusty but I hope you like it nonetheless!

First Time

Steve Harrington X Reader

Summary: Steve has something important to tell you when you’re meant to be helping the kids drench the hub in gasoline.

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22-10-17

Aries: Security envelopes aren’t all the secure, really.

Taurus: No, pretty sure you’re right.

Gemini: Crows don’t tell lies. They are brutally honest little shit heads.

Cancer: Yellow flower vases deserve better.

Leo: With an overblown sense of confidence and a can of gasoline, all things are possible.

Virgo: Please stop eating all of the roadkill. The vultures are becoming depressed. Have you ever seen a depressed vulture? It’s not pretty.

Libra: Clockwork hearts require too much - You’re forgetful. You’ll be dead inside a month.

Scorpio: Big heart & hips to match.

Sagittarius: Thanks a lot, mom.

Capricorn: All that hate is going to ruin you.

Aquarius: Those mournful cries are beginning to frighten everyone. They never seem to cease. You can’t sleep for them. What are you going to do about this? Seeing as they’re coming from you and all.

Pisces: Hold on to the memory, not the person. They said Goodbye long ago.

my favorite headcanons are random, completely useless pieces information like “is addicted to craigslist” “secretly enjoys the smell of gasoline” or “can eat an entire chipotle burrito in one sitting despite diminutive size”

2

Jill and Julie Hansen were 16 year old twins who met a horrible fate on November 14th, 1986. That night, their parents Hans and Betty were woken up by a fire in their Willow Creek, California, trailer. When they managed to get out, they found Julie in the lawn across the street, barely hanging to life, with a gaping wound in her stomach. She was taken to the hospital, where doctors determined she had been shot with a shotgun. Jill had died in the fire, but once they found the body they confirmed she’d been shot with the same gun too.

The main suspect was Donny Hansen, the 21 year old half-brother of the twins. Donny’s behavior during the night of the fire was strange: he claimed he had dragged Julie out of the house but only after she was found by a neighbor. Police found the murder weapon in the Hansen’s warehouse, and confirmed Donny had borrowed it from a friend three days before. Credit card bills also showed he had filled a gasoline can that was found at the scene. And he was caught by police trying to get in the warehouse after the fire, likely to get the shotgun out of sight.

While in the hospital and on her way to recovery, Julie first said she hadn’t seen who shot her and then had a flashback in which she remembered Donny’s face. Tragically, she died soon after, before she could testify in his trial and her testimony couldn’t be considered into evidence.

Donny’s defense found a couple of neighbors that testified they’d seen two strangers around the Hansen’s trailer before the fire started. The theory they presented was that these men had coincidentally found the shotgun and the gas Donny had purchased and used it to try to kill the whole family. Sounds so ridiculous, right? But the jury believed it, and Donny was acquitted. He changed his name and moved away, and the Hansen’s case is still considered unsolved. And I always wonder, how come the parents didn’t hear the shotgun been fired?

2

                                                    “I’m so in love with you that it feels
                                                             like someone 
had emptied a can of gasoline
                                                 somewhere inside me and set fire to it!” 

anonymous asked:

Hi! So, your headcannon on Alex and Andrew absolutely wrecked me, it was fantastic. I was wondering if you wanted to expand on it a little bit? Like how Andrew and Neil got together again and dealing with the Alex thing?

Huh, it would appear that I saw “expand” and then wrote something which doesn’t answer this ask at all. Oh well. Here’s the sequel/prequel/companion to this post.

Warnings for my D- humor and some ooc-ness because I hey I already drastically redid their backstories and dynamic so why wouldn’t they be slightly different people.

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Jason Todd/Red Hood X Reader- Criminal (Song Fic)

Here’s the song fic!! I really am not that great at them, but I hope you guys enjoy!! I’d like to thank the awesome @abigailredgrave for helping me out with this.  Also, this is in the Arkhamverse if it confuses some people.  I recently have had some Arkham Knight feels and I needed to get it out of my system.

Warning: Blood, fighting, guns, horrible nicknames, etc.

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Salt and Burn

Title: Salt and Burn

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Dean and Donna go on a simple salt and burn.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 1764

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of blood

Author’s Notes: Thank you to @feelmyroarrrr for the idea. She’s utterly amazing at coming up with Dean and Donna ideas. Expect to see more.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Originally posted by bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

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Consider

L taking Yotsuba!Light to wammys on bonfire night

-light watching in terror as a bunch of teenagers build a bonfire as big as the building

-someone tries to set him on fire several times

-literally all these kids are wearing fucking gas masks n shit and you can see this fucking fire for mILES

-someone smuggled in fucking vodka and everyone knows who it was but they won’t break the bonfire code of silence

-L gets SHITFACED because “bonfire night only comes once a year, light-kun.”

-light watches in horror as several wasted children dump CANS OF GASOLINE on this huge fire and CHEER when someone nearly lights themselves on fire

- “L Beyond is gone.”

- “EVERYONE SCATTER BEYOND IS LOOSE”

- the orphanage almost burned down that night

- light is forever traumatized by bonfire night at wammys and can never unsee the horror

after

She’s always been thin, and over the years she’d honed her body into a perfectly efficient machine, all lithe muscle with just enough extra. Now he holds her at night and could count every bone in her body.

He tries not to, though.

On the couch in his office she’s been asleep for hours, but Mulder doesn’t sleep much anymore. He traces circles on her hip with the fingertips of his left hand. The pain has dulled to a low, constant ache; he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Mulder’s not worried about what it will be like, after. He knows how to live with a phantom limb.

The lights again, out over the lake.

“Scully,” he says, and even though it’s the middle of the night she must have been awake, because she doesn’t start at the sound of her name, just turns to look at him.

She says, her voice low, “The lights.”

“If they come for us,” he says, but she kisses him hard.

“Don’t.”

“Scully.”

More forcefully: “Don’t.”

“You should go,” he says, and in his mind’s eye he sees it, the headlights closing in, the wind and the sparks and the screaming. Scully and Will carried away like everyone else they used to know. Disappearing beyond his reach. “Before it’s too late. Take Will and go.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she says, but he hears the uncertainty in her voice and it only makes him more sure.

“I’ll hold them off as long as I can. Create a diversion, I’ll – you take the truck and whatever’s left of the gasoline.” He can feel his grip on her tightening as he adds, “Will knows how to shoot.”

“Oh my God,” she exhales.

“You know they want him. And they know where we are.”

“We don’t know anything. God, Mulder, what are you saying?”

“Promise me,” he says.

“Never,” she says, fierce. “Not without you.”

But she’ll run. He will make sure of it; he will not lose her to this. This world, just like the old one, needs to have Scully in it. He thinks of the bags he packed for her and Will, all those months ago. The handgun and rifle they keep loaded near the door, and Scully’s first-aid kit carrying unspeakable things.

He holds her closer; he counts the minutes. He watches the headlights swim through the window again, then fade into the darkness.

For now.

A very bad love story prompt

“Hey can I ask you a real quick question?”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?”

“YOU ARE OUTSIDE MY ROOM WITH A BABY KANGAROO, A MOTORCYCLE, A BOTTLE OF ABSINTHE AND A CAN OF GASOLINE.”

“…It’s a koala…”

“What?”

“It’s a koala, not a kangaroo…”

“I’m about to slap you.”

“But you’re my girlfriend! You’re supposed to accept my differences!”

“I am not your girlfriend, I’m your neighbor and even if I was your girlfriend, I would still slap you because you are carrying a koala, my ex’s motorcycle, bootleg hallucinogenic alcohol from England and a can of gasoline.

“…”

“-sigh- This sounds like the start of a really bad high school love story.”

There comes a time when the world starts spinning like a broken top teetering on a cabinet and you can taste the smoke in the air and you can feel the fires you set racing up your spine and the night itself shatters into flickers of red and blue and angry voices all loud and bright and angry and you stand there in the fire and the ash and the smoke and you’re not afraid.

Death holds itself close to you, rearranging your life so that you walk hand-in-hand with it. You exist, in a way that isn’t quite alive but not yet dead, pushed up against the horizon of forever and never, lungs heavy with fire.

You’re holding a match and a can of gasoline when the bullet splits your heart, you’re holding his hands when you die-not-die, and this golden little smirk of a grim reaper sits down next to you and fixes you up. Kisses your palm where it burned.

You wake up in the black ashes of a building and you can taste the smoke, there is a melted gasoline can next to you and your hand is tight around a gold lighter.

—  ARSONIST WITH A POCKET FULL OF LOVE LETTERS