the burly man

anonymous asked:

What's up with you and muscly men? No hate or anything, I'm just genuinely curious. Like, I like my men (no homo) with a touch of muscle y'know, to get the blood flowing if you know what I mean. But like, your taste in muscly men is something truly worthy of merit. I can find respect in the men who can truly admire the gratuitous muscles of a big burly man!

i cant respond to this seriously im hyperventilating


He wanted her gone. He wanted everyone in this damn hallway gone. But there was no one he wished would vanish more than Alice cooper.

Couldn’t she fucking see? She was ruining her daughters. She was ruining Betty.

And that? He was not down with that.

As Betty lunged for her sister, the burly man in the white scrubs took a step towards Betty. No he couldn’t let that happen, he was hardly able to move before he was shoved against the wall.
They didn’t need a scene, he just needed Betty, he wanted to reach for her. But he couldn’t.

Suddenly Alice was dragging her away, Jughead following closely, as soon as they were outside Betty ripped her wrist free.

“Get off of me.” She was fully crying now, tears streaming down her face, but she looked deadly. Her tone even and cold.

“Betty don’t..” Alice tried to gain ground, reaching for her wrist again.

“I said get off of me.” Her eyes were still focused, but he noticed the shake to her shoulders, the way she backed up. He assumed Now was a good time to interject, he couldn’t sit by and watch this anymore.

“I’ll take her home mrs. Cooper, you should go.” He reached his hand out, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.

“Excuse me, this is my daughter I’ll decide..”

As Betty sunk lower behind him, he heard the soft whimper she was trying to hide. No, consequences be damned. He wasn’t handing her over to that monster.

“All due respect but like I said, you should go. You’re not wanted here. I’ll get her home safe. Go home.”

The blonde older woman, spared a glance at Betty before slamming the door to her car and speeding off.

Almost instantly the dam broke.

He had her wrapped up in his arms faster than he thought possible.

“You’re okay, pollys okay, I’m here. I’m right here” he whispered into her ear.

They didn’t speak, they stood in that parking lot for thirty minutes, just holding each other. Eventually the bus came, and jughead took her by the shoulders, leading her to a seat.

As soon as they sat down she had rested her head on his shoulder, falling asleep purely out of exhaustion.

Looking down, he frowned. She didn’t deserve this, she was so good, so loving, she cared so much. Dropping a kiss to her forehead, he closed his eyes. It was quite a bus ride back to riverdale and he knew he would sleep better having her by his side.

They were both jolted awake as the bus came to its final stop.

She smiled up at him sadly

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep. I wasn’t such great company today was I?”

He moved to help her off the bus.

“Are you kidding me, I couldn’t have asked for a better sleuthing partner.” He winked

He thought he saw a genuine smile but maybe he was biased.

They walked in comfortable silence, hand in hand.

Arriving at her door, he saw her shoulders start to shake

“Call me. No matter what happens. You call me, I’ll answer, whatever hour. I’ll answer. I can be here in ten minutes flat.” He said seriously, staring deep into her eyes.

She nodded and then lunged, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing so tight he thought he might suffocate. He didn’t care he wrapped his long arms around her waist, holding her to him.

After what felt like hours he pulled away looking into her eyes.

“Call me.”

She nodded before walking into her house with a wave.

Climbing the latter to her room, he scanned her over quickly. She was okay, no visible changes.

She was smiling, that was good. He could make her laugh, that much he knew.

she was ranting, talking about being crazy

He placed his hands in her shoulder, staring into those deep sad eyes.

“Were all crazy.” She laughed

He was choking, he couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t he say it? Just tell her.

She was so patient, understanding.

Forget it.

He had her face in his hands and his mouth on hers.

Oh god, he had never felt anything like this, he didn’t know how to feel. It was good, it felt good, it felt safe.

He pulled away, she went back nipping his mouth slightly. She was smiling.

Jesus Christ she was smiling

What did that mean?

As soon as he opened his mouth to speak her eyes had widened and she was back on the case.

They were gonna have to talk about this eventually , but right now?

There were more important things to deal with

it always confuses me when superman gets drawn burlier than batman. i mean we dance around it but superman is basically super strong due to space magic. he could be a weedy lil string bean and he’d still be able to lift a bus. i’m not saying the muscles don’t help, or that he doesn’t probably have magic space muscles. i’m just saying, all of batman’s strength is muscle-dependant. he has no space magics. in my head he is the more burly of the two just out of necessity. i know he’s kind of got the gymnast thing going on but like. i imagine bruce wayne as more barrel-y and clark kent as more dorito-y. i don’t know why i’m telling you this except that i’m dealing with the realization that this is not the standard assumption.

Okay, but now imagine this.

Dean going back to the bunker afterwards, not wanting to dwell on one of the scariest things that has happened to them, but instead finding Cas and going on and on about how he rode Larry so good.

Cas, after finding out that Larry is a mechanical bull, and not some burly man, suggesting that Dean shows him just how good he was at riding.


Ch.1 Mystic Messenger Mafia AU


Word Count: 1,609


      It was what you had come to know as a typical night. The city was wet from the earlier rains, causing a moonlit highlight on the bricks and asphalt. It also kicked up an unpleasant stench, but one you had grown familiar with in all of your years of living here.

     “Alright, kiddies. Time to work,” a burly man clapped his gloved hands together before throwing open the back door of the truck.

     Barrels and barrels full of bootleg lined the inside. Thousands of dollars of product for the family to profit from, brought over on a meat truck they used frequently to disguise their hauls. But from where? The shipping yard, you guessed. Now if you could just figure out when it docked…

     “What are you thinking about?” the boy next to you asked.

     You hadn’t realized he’d been watching you. He scratched his hair underneath his cap before straightening it with a smile. Yoosung, or ‘Lucky’ as he was known, was always smiling. He seemed to practically skip instead of walk. Not the typical mafioso wannabe. But neither were you. In any case, he’s the closest thing you had to a friend right now. And you needed that.

     “That it’s cold as shit and I wanna get this over with,” you huffed.

     Lucky and some of the other boys popped up into the truck. They all shifted the barrels in their spots as if to weigh the contents before proceeding to move them. They had to roll a few of them down before you could start to dolly the liquor inside the small storage warehouse.

     “Attaboy,” the driver said gruffly and condescendingly. His wide hand pat one of them on the back as they wheeled a barrel away.

     “Turn the lights off, you nitwit,” the beautiful brunette, your capo-Jaehee, seethed as her heels clicked around the side of the truck and stopped in front of the driver.

     “S-Sorry, right,” he nodded before scrambling to the front to turn the headlights dim.

     “This is the last job for tonight, so make it snappy,” she played with her gloved hands, seemingly annoyed, “well go on!” she urged you.

     You picked up the pace and wheeled the barrel Yoosung placed on the dolly for you. A single one wasn’t too heavy, but do 5 or 6 in a row and boy were you feeling it. Towards the end of the truck you felt beads of sweat on the back of your neck.

     “What’s her deal tonight?” one of the boys whispered as you all worked to shift the hooch inside the storage room.

     You glanced back to see Jaehee and the driver. It looked like she was scolding him, all while gesturing to the truck.

     “Probably in a rush to get to the club to see ‘Pretty Boy’ sing his little heart out so she can drop her panties,” one of the guys joked and pretended to sing into a mic dramatically.

     “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” another one smacked him in the back of the head, “if I have to listen to any more of your stupid jokes tonight I’m gunna stuff ya in one of these damn barrels.”

     “Alright, alright, lay off,” he rubbed his head with a sour face, “I was only tryin'a lighten the mood.”

     A flash of headlights washed over you before being turned off. You all stopped to watch a black car pull up by the truck. You and Yoosung both paused, gripping your dollies and watching as a man in a brown trench coat stepped out and straightened his collar. Bits of red hair peeked from his hat and a serious expression plagued his face.

     “Shit, what’s he doing here?” one of the guys whistled menacingly.

     Though you had only seen him a handful of times, you knew who it was. Saeyoung, the Underboss. Or as people liked to call him-‘The Mad Hatter.’ You believed him responsible for countless hits over the years. And now you all stood to watch, though some of the outfit stayed back in the warehouse, exchanging quiet glances and pretending to work.

     “It’s a wonderful night, isn’t it?” Saeyoung and his two body guards met Jaehee and the driver.

     “It’s a bit too cold if you ask me,” Jaehee replied.

     “Ah, but it’s a clear night,” he looked up to the sky, “star, after star, after star. An endless void. If you look long and hard enough you can get lost in it. How many do you think there are?”

     He returned his gaze to the two of them, his solemn face unchanging. Neither of them spoke.

     “I asked you a question,” he turned to the large man, “how many do you think there are?”

     “Stars? I-uh…” you could almost see the man begin to sweat.

     “You can count, can’t you?”

     “Well ya, but I-I don’t know-“

     “Of course you don’t. There are too many up there. Maybe a simpler question, then? Since you can count and many barrels am I missing from this truck?” he gestured to the meat truck.

     “Missing?” his big belly heaved with his now labored breathing.

      Saeyoung’s fist swung into the mans gut and sent him coughing to his knees.

     “Now, now. You’re good with numbers, remember? I’ll give you a second to count them in your head before telling me. And you’d better tell me. Or things are only going to get worse for you.”

     The man started to sob at Saeyoung’s feet, “I don’t know nothin’ about missing barrels I swear on my kids life,” he pleaded.

     “I don’t like liars,” Saeyoung grabbed the mans hand and pulled the glove off, “shall we count together? Maybe that will help.”

     He singled out the mans pointer finger, while the driver looked up to Saeyoung’s face in terror. His wet eyes were pleading.

     “One…” Saeyoung bent the finger back in a swift motion. The snap of bone was like a dry twig breaking under your boot.

     The cry in pain filled the empty street and the body guards stuffed the man’s mouth with a cloth before holding him in place on his knees. He struggled for a moment but quickly admitted defeat.

     “Two,” another snap of his middle finger, “three…”

     Even with the cloth to muffle, you could hear the pain bellowing from his chest. Tears streamed down his stubble-heavy face and his brow pinched together in agony. It took everything in you not to stop him. The cold metal of the gun on your thigh had never been more apparent.

     “Four,” the pinky was the last one and it broke easily, “four barrels. Now do you remember?”

     He let the mans hand fall before stepping back. The cloth was pulled from his mouth before shoving him forward into the damp asphalt. Shaking and nodding at Saeyoung’s feet, his right hand was a mangled mess now.

     “Good, I thought so. Now you won’t forget that number,” he tossed the glove at the mans face, “get out of my sight.”

     With his good hand he palmed the glove and clambered to his feet all while stifling sobs. Wobbling slightly and almost running into Jaehee in the process he started to walk fast in the opposite direction down the silent street.

     “Hm…I changed my mind,” Saeyoung reached into his coat and pulled a pistol to aim at the man.

     The truck blocked your view but the sound of the shot and the thud that followed were telling enough. Your legs were suddenly jello and a pair of hands held you up.

     “Keep it together,” Yoosung whispered as he grabbed you. You were just noticing his eyes had glassed over slightly and there was an indent where he must have bitten his lip.

     All you could think about were flashes of Saeyoung’s face as he held a gun to your head. ‘Lemme show you what we do to rats and pigs,’ he’d say, his sadistic grin being the last thing you see before he squeezed on it.

     “Someone clean that up,” Saeyoung gestured to the body before turning to one of the men, “you, get this truck out of here.”

     He handed a wad of cash to Jaehee, explaining that she was to deliver it to the man’s wife. It was to help her get by, at least for a little while, without a husband.

     He took long striding steps back to the car. His gloved hand opened the door and he turned to you with a smile before getting in.

     “Hey, Lucky! Both’a you, be in the wind before the bull arrives, huh?” he waved and got into the back seat.

     The bit of food in your stomach was trying to make it’s way up but you took some sharp breaths to calm your nerves as the car drove away. No wonder there wasn’t a soul at the station willing to try and infiltrate this syndicate. They all either laughed at you or turned a cold shoulder when you brought it up. Not even the feds were willing to acknowledge this level of organized crime was going on. Businesses and citizens alike accepted that this was just the way things were. And here you were, a cop gone under cover. A rat. A bull. The regret was like a thick syrup that clung to you. This was the first time you realized you were probably going to die. But there was no turning back now.

     “Come on, there’s still a bit of work to do…” Yoosung pat you on the back with a solemn face. It was the first time you’d seen him not smiling.

anonymous asked:

Okay but, Laf and George are in a meeting and Laf starts playing footsie with him and touching(wink) him under the table and Gwash gets so unbelievably flustered and is trying to answer official questions when at one point he just sQUEAKS




Summary: The boys get minor injuries whilst they are out and you take it upon yourself to fix them up.


The noises that were emitting from the back of Gladio’s throat were anything but human, so deep and soft that you didn’t actually realise they were coming from him at first. “I’m almost done.” You assumed him, dabbing away the excess blood from around his wound and moving on to begin stitching the area.

“It doesn’t hurt.” The burly man grumbled and it made you stifle a giggle as you continued to work on stitching him up. It appeared that Gladio was always trying to be the macho man – most of the time succeeding too. “Are you laughing at me?” He cocked a thick tuft at you and once again you had to stop yourself from laughing.

With a soft sigh you responded. “No, no.” And shook your head before turning your gaze up to look at him. “I just think it’s cute how you act so tough all the time.” You responded before attempting to focusing on your work once more but once again being distracted by the handsome man in front of you.

A deep scoff left Gladio’s chest then as he responded. “It ain’t an act. I’m tough because I need to be. It’s my job.” Then he flashed you that trademark grin of his that melted your heart. “Quit giving me those googly-eyes and start focusing on what you’re doing. The last thing I need is your stitching my shirt to my chest.” He quipped but gave you a little smile.


A deep hiss came from the back of the slender mans throat as you dabbed away the blood, pushing aside his tight fitting button down shirt trying not to make anymore of a mess of the expensive looking material than there already was. “I’m almost finished.” You assured him, wincing yourself.

“It’s quiet alright.” The sultry tones of Ignis made you shudder softly and then gaze up to his features. “I would prefer you to take the time that you need and do the job properly, than rush and I end up in this same position again.” He stated and nodded your head gently, grabbing some thick bandages from beside you and beginning to line it up with his shoulder wound.

A little sigh slipped from your lips. “Are you sure that there is nothing that I can give you for the pain?” You questioned, tilting your head and turning your gaze up to him again. “I-”

“No.” Ignis quickly shook his head before responding. “No, we shouldn’t waste our supply of curatives. We won’t know when they would come in handy.” He informed you as you frowned gently and continued your work trying to fix him up as best as you could with the experience that you had.

The next couple of moments it was quiet between you two, Ignis was wincing gently, flinching when you touch his would a little two are, but before you could start worrying again he then opted to change the subject, get your mind off his pain. “Perhaps tonight I shall cook your favourite meal. As a thanks for all your hard work.” This made you smile gently and nod your head in response. “Wonderful~”


It was a little daunting working on someone like Noctis, especially with the three pairs of eyes that were watching your every move. It was as if the Prince was able to see how uncomfortable that you were and turned his icy gaze up to his friends and ordered them all gently. “Will you give us a little space?”

All three of them muttered soft apologises before wandering around the camp doing their own thing. “Thank you.” You breathed softly before finally being able to focus a little harder on fixing up the gash in his arm now. “I have to admit, it was… difficult to concentrate with someone like Gladio breathing down my neck.” You explained before hearing a breathy little laugh slip from Noctis lips and he nodded his head.

“I can understand how that would be a problem.” He explained nodding his head. “I’ve been training with the guy for years, I’ve got used to his… breathing.” The Prince explained and that made you giggle and nod your head, feeling a little more at easy now with the young Prince, he was easy to get along with. “Don’t let them worry you. Just focus on me-”

The moment those words slipped from his lips Noctis stopped himself and winced. “I mean, uh… focus on my wound.” He explained before you gazed up to see a delicate little blush on his cheeks. “Uh, yeah…” Noctis winced before opting to close his eyes, having to avert his gaze too worried he might say something else.

“Yes, Prince Noctis.” You nodded your head gently, having to hold back little giggles. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.


“I’m sorry.” A quick apology sprung from your mouth as you heard Prompto mewl in pain dramatically again. “I’m trying… trying to do this as quick as I can.” You explained, trying to keep a tight hold on his arm as you continued to clean the wound with a clean cloth.

A deep scoff came from Gladio who was being forced to hold down the dramatic blond as he withered and winced in pain. “Ow. Ow.” Prompto continued to inform you all that he was in a lot of pain. When really the pain was only minimal, nothing worse than a little cut and some bruising.

After a little while he seemed to calm down, especially when you were just wrapping his arm in some clean bandages, he was unable to take his sparkling blue eyes and head slightly tilted to the side. “Are you feeling better now?” You questioned softly before a little smirk pulled across your lips. “Or would you like me kiss it better?”

It was those words that shocked him, eyes widening and mouth falling open. “Would… would you do that?” It actually made you giggle and squeeze your eyes shut before looking back up at the blonde to see that he was now blushing slightly. “Maybe another time when you’re feeling a little better.” You assured him gently. “For now I think you’ll all fit and ready to get back into the fight.”

Want to Request Something?

Girl in the Tower

Fandom: Pokemon

Pairing: MoonLilyShipping (Lillie/Moon)

Notes: Happy Pokemon Day! 1,332 words. Game Spoilers. Moon = Selene btw. Weird sort of Medieval AU, but Pokemon are still around so…  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary: Lillie expected a large, battle-hardened and burly man to enter her chambers, not… whoever this is. (Or, Lady Lusamine locks Lillie in a tower in the woods near Castle Aether and is rescued by a mysterious lady-knight.)

Keep reading

Klaine Valentines Challenge - “Gay Bar Superstar” (Rated T)

Nursing a bar stool at Scandals, Kurt spots a handsome man dancing with a skeevy guy - a man he just can’t take his eyes off of. Kurt thinks that handsome man may want to dance with him, but should he really cut in?

Of course, he should. He’s done it before. (1129 words)

Written for the Klaine Valentines Challenge prompt “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You”

Read on AO3.

“Here ya go, buddy – one Shirley Temple, extra cherries.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.” Kurt reaches back blindly to grab a cherry from his glass, barely acknowledging the burly man who slid it across the bar to him. Kurt pops the cherry in his mouth, chews it, swallows it, then immediately grabs another. He pounds them back one at a time, his mind, and his eyes, focused elsewhere …

… out on the dance floor, where a handsome man in skin tight jeans, a blue cardigan, and a bowtie (of all things) shakes his ass to a retro ABC tune.

And he’s got a stellar ass, too – plump, pert, testing the limits of that denim fabric’s sustainability every time he wiggles his hips.

Keep reading

Imagine hearing a knock at your door. It had been a month since Gianna begged you to cover for her at work. A month since you had first stepped under the regal arches of the entryway. A month since you had been taken prisoner.

That wasn’t to say you hadn’t been treated well. They served you the finest food. Shaved truffles on risotto, caviar, champagne. Your closet was filled with exotic designer clothes, that from the look of the tags that hung on them still, you wouldn’t have been able to afford in any life.

And despite what they were, everyone was pleasant enough. The angelic girl from the meeting would chat idly with you for a few hours. And the burly man had offered you a piggy back ride. Even the tracker with the angular face offered you a puppy he had stolen from who knows where.

It was your guard however who had made the most effort. Everyday he seemed to bring you a gift of some sort. First a crate of wine, then of fine cheese, an expensive handbag, silk robes, expensive clothing, you name it he had brought it.

“Come in.” Your voice barely above a murmur.

And then a familiar face poked it’s head in through the doorway. A familiar mane of choclate brown hair, and a pair of identical red eyes gazed at you with a warmth you couldn’t quite understand.

“Good evening.” You immediately tensed. Which did not go unnoticed, Alec'a smile faltering ever so slightly. He pushed through the doorway with a rather large crate. You almost sighed, what was it now.

But to your surprise he set it at your feet, and inside were dozens of books. Some classics, a few new age books, a handful of foreign language books.

“I didn’t really know what you liked to read, so I just got a bit of everything.” Alec looked up, and for the first time he saw something on your face he had never anticipated.

You were smiling.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft, but your face was so bright it made up for it.

And somehow he found himself smiling as well.


PROMPT:  “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about,” with Daryl.


It was early morning and the warming sun had shone brightly through the curtains, lighting the room around you where you’d been blissfully sleeping the night away alongside Daryl Dixon. His heavy breathing and gentle snoring was something you’d come to love, after another night shared wrapped in one another’s bodies, now snuggly lay beside you with one heavy arm draped over your waist.

“Mornin’,” Daryl’s hoarse voice suddenly grumbled out from his sleepy state behind you, while one hand rubbed his heavy eyes open and the other gently caressed up the length of your body.

“Morning sleepy,” you laughed gently, as you nestled yourself further into where he lay and sunk deeper into the soft mattress and white cotton sheets that encased the two of you. These idyllic cosy mornings were what you lived for, wrapped in the burly arms of the man you had come to love and cherish, enjoying the only shred of happiness you were able to find for yourself in a world that had descended into hell itself. These dreamlike moments of peace were almost enough to make you forget the masses of animated corpses waiting beyond Alexandria’s walls, relentlessly awaiting any opportunity to sink their rasping teeth into the warmth of living flesh. But roam and aimlessly wander on they did, and soon enough you would find yourself face to face with their decaying faces and the putrid stench they emitted as you plunged your blades deep through their softened skulls.

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, motivating yourself up from the spot where you lay. “We should get up if we’re gonna head out on that run today with Rick and Aaron. Guys could do with some extra hands.”

But Daryl’s strong hands quickly wrestled their way out of the sheets, reached out to grip your waist and playfully pulled you back into the bed by his side. His hands brushed up against your skin as they slid up from your waist once more, over your shoulder and trailed back down the soft skin of your arm, where goosebumps began to surface.

“Nah, stay a little longer,” he pleaded, as he brought his hand down to yours and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing his warm body firmly against yours and growling lowly into the crook of your neck. His soft lips collided against the tender flesh of your neck, relishing the sweet taste of your skin against his as he began to devour it with an unyielding desire, and you ultimately gave in to his touch and the tingling sensation growing between your thighs.

“Seriously?” you chuckled.

“What?” Daryl mumbled in between the passionate kisses he laced from your neck to your collarbone.  

“We’ve become that clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

All of a sudden, Daryl’s strong hands grabbed you tightly and spun you onto your back as he climbed on top of you, his bare chest pressing against yours as his soft lips came crashing down on to yours and one of his hands writhed through your tousled hair.

“Yeah well,” he hummed seductively as he allowed his lips to trail south down your aching body, kissing between your heaving breasts as he continued down to your waist, with his large hands eagerly following his lead and settling on the soft spots just inward from your hips. “I ain’t complainin’ now, am I?”

But That’s “Daddy” To You

A/N: Well, hiya. This is my first ever fanfic/one-shot sorta thing, so don’t even bother messaging me saying it’s bad because, honey, I know. Ah, well. I just hope at least some of it’s enjoyable and I don’t know, maybe I’ll do some more things like this if people respond well and I get requests or something.

Warning(s): Some violence, slightly sexual behaviour and/or references

Word count: 1,221

Pairing(s): Joker x Reader / Joker x OC (Original Character)

Part 2

Originally posted by artsyxfella

          Her knee-high leather boot glistened in the dimly lit room, a single ray of light shone down from an old, rusty ceiling lamp that swung silently from side-to-side.

She smirked, her head held high as she looked down intimidatingly at the burly man tied to the chair in front of her, all the while pressing her foot into his chest.

“I won’t ask again,” her voice smooth as silk but laced with a toxic venom, “where’s my money, honey?”

She lifted her shoe off of the defenseless man in front of her as she heard a sharp intake of breath and a swallow. She figured he tried to catch his breath after his chest being compressed by a woman in 6 inch heels but he was not quick enough to answer her question.

In one swift motion, her pistol was against his temple as she sat in his lap.

She tusked, “I’m afraid we have a slight problem, don’t you think?” a cynical smile appears on her face whilst his eyes are filled with fear and anxiety, “You see, I am owed a lot of money from your side of the deal, but do you see any money in this room, Mr. Lyvier?”

He refused eye contact with the attractive, leather-clad, dangerous woman opposite him which only infuriated her more.

“Do you?!” Her smile dropped as she pressed the personalised pistol even more into the side of his head, her finger on the trigger.

“N-No, Miss” he spoke, his throat closed up and rough.

The unsettling smile rose again to her face and her voice sickeningly sweet, “And what do you suppose we do with people who don’t meet deadlines?”

He shook his head, indicating either he, in fact, did not know, or simply knew he had made a mistake.

“Rest In Hell, sweetheart.” She winked playfully before a shot sounded, ringing throughout the entire building.

His body fell limp as she retreated from where she sat and blew the end of the gun before smiling to herself wickedly, “Bring the car around, Franklin, we’re going for a drive.”

          A white, decorated Ferrari raced through the city streets. Lights and passers-by blurred like they were just mere figments. She needed to blow off steam that was building up ever since her deal was cut short.

She arrived at a small club, the nightlife always seemed to calm her, along with a few drinks in her system. The sign outside illuminated by flashing letters, “Joker”.

The door of the pristine sports car slammed as she flicked her wrist at the buff bouncer guarding the entrance, everyone knew who she was. Walking in, she found herself immersed in a room with slightly intoxicated businessmen and skimpily dressed dancers enclosed in glass boxes. The atmosphere relaxed her, the tension seeping as she smiled. This is what she was used to.

She made her way through the busy floor, examining the interior of the building. The ceiling and walls were painted a shade of black with gold lining running across the border. Curtains of gold beads dangled from above in front of forbidden entrances guarded by a platoon of security guards. Strobe lights flashed in time with the loud music that she could feel in her heart as she paved her way through to the bar. She sat in one of the stools, grabbing the attention of the young man behind the counter.

“The usual, Lucas,” she raised her voice slightly, the music booming across the area. The bartender nodded as he winked, knowing she didn’t like others flirting with her. “You do that one more time and I’ll walk out of here with more than I came in with,” the threat said in a lighthearted way but he knew she was deathly serious.

He cleared his throat, setting down a glass of strawberry daiquiri at her dispense.

“Just how you like it, Miss” his voice had an underlying tone of fear and she smirked. Controlling people was her game and she loved it.

“I hope we understand each other, Lucas, you don’t play games with me,” she sipped the alcohol she had in her hand eloquently before blowing a kiss to the shaken bartender and placing her heels onto the vibrating floor of the nightclub.

She stalked around for a few moments before she caught eye of an empty glass box. Smiling to herself, she set down her empty glass on a nearby table and approached the box, entering it swiftly and closing the door behind her.

She felt pairs of eyes staring as she closed hers and felt the music caressing her body as she moved with it. Her hips gyrated, her arms above her head as she slid down the glass wall behind her into a squatting position, her legs open. Opening her eyes, she saw businessman after businessman looking at her hungrily.

A sense of power washed over her knowing that she was the centre of attention and she used it to her advantage. She turned her body around before standing up slowly, her audience having a clear view of her ass. A whistle came from below her, outside the glass, from what it looked to be a security guard.

“May I help you?” Her voice now slick with flirtation.

“The boss wants to see you,” the man replied shortly, which confused her.

“Then his wish is my command,” a sultry smile spread across her face and she stepped out from the steamy box, allowing another dancer in.

She was led by the 6ft man into a quieter, more secluded area of the club. She assumed it was only for VIP’s as she caught eye of more mannered and less rowdy men, seemingly managing to keep their alcohol tolerance under control.

“Right through here,” the tall, muscly man held a door with the letter, “J”, open.

“Why thank you,” she sauntered in but not before patting the man on the chest.

The door shut behind her suddenly, causing her to jump a little unexpectedly. Her focus was soon directed towards the mahogany desk in front of her with a burgundy chair turned away, looking over the club through a one-way window.

The chair swung round a few seconds after she walked into the room, revealing a green-haired, red-lipped, gentleman dressed in a white button down shirt with the top half undone.

“You called for me?” She acted as though she was unfazed by the attractive male sitting and looking at her.

“I did indeed,” he sounded, his voice husky, thick with intensity as he stood from his seat and walked around the desk. “I wanted to meet the mysterious girl who danced in one of my boxes without my permission.” his voice smooth and deep.

He started to walk slowly, intimidatingly, towards her before she placed a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m afraid, Mister, you’ll have to get to know me first before we get down to business,” she looked up at him, her sentence insinuating something more than a conversation even though she would never.

The man before her looked at her whole body before smirking and looking back into her eyes.

“I’m J, Mister J,”  he introduced himself for the first time since a word was exchanged between them,

“But that’s “daddy” to you.“

walk up in the club like wHAT UP I’M REALLY BAD AT

It’s been pretty fucking nuts, friends. But some good things are looking up.
What I’ve been up to? Well, I made the wife watch Firefly & Serenity. Now, we’re going to binge Torchwood because we’re bad at show watching when they come out. I made a Simon Tam blog ( that I have been kind of ignoring too lets be honest ) and I’m working a lot of hours???
But it’s all gonna change. I just didn’t want anyone to feel like I’ve abandoned my big burly man! So with this said—- like for a fucking starter!!!

ojibejita replied to your post “Thinning manners made pleasantries a rarity, it was apparent in the…”

“Fire? Rounds?” From the single lens of his pink scouter, he peered down at the burly man. For once the Saiyan found himself peculiarly taller in conversation. More pressing was the modest looking weapon, primitive to him, introduced. “Surely, you jest.”

“Nope, no jest here! Not about Bianca, anyways. If you want to hear a joke, I’ve got plenty, though.” He drops his arms to his side and looks up at the unusual fellow, observing him. “And er … what’s that thing on your face, anyways? I thought it was a monocle but it’s a little eccentric for that.” 


For anon…F/N means friend’s name, enjoy!

“See ya later, guys,” you called out as you waved to your friends.
“Are you sure you have to go so soon?” F/N asked.
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got work in the morning. Can’t miss that.”
Your friend giggled. “Well you could, but I get it.”
“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

F/N nodded before heading back to the small group at the bar. Having already paid off your tab, you headed toward the door. A burly, blood-shot eyed man stood in your path. He looked you up and down.

“Whereyougoin?” he slurred.
“Away from you,” you retorted before pushing past him.

You suddenly hated the fact that your parking spot was so far away. Clutching your keys, you hustled toward your car. The voice from inside heightened your nerves.

“Hey,” the man barked, “Don’t walk away from me!”
“Just ignore him,” you muttered to yourself.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work. Before you knew it, the man had grabbed you roughly by the arm. You started yelling, hoping to grab someone’s attention in the deserted parking lot.

“Let me go!” you screamed.
“Say you’re sssorry and maybe I will.”

Clenching your jaw, you pulled out your pepper spray and shot it in his eyes. He yelled loudly as you ripped your arm away from him. You bolted for your car.

“You bitch,” he screamed, “Come back here so I can pummel you!”

Of course, luck would have it, you tripped over a discarded pipe. You hit the ground with a thud. You sat up and noticed your attacker closing in on you. You attempt to throw the pipe at the man (though in retrospect, you wish you would’ve held onto it). The man dodged with a guffaw.

“Get away from me,” you screamed again while scooting away.
“I’m gonna make you pay for spraying me in the eyes by-”
“Hey!” another voice barked, “Leave them alone!”

You glanced up, shaking, to see a guy around your age facing the attacker.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” the brute sneered.

His eyes flicked to yours. Once he caught your gaze, he glanced toward something off to your left. You followed it and noticed a car. Understanding, you crawled behind the vehicle. You peeked your head out slightly just as you saw the blond shoot a red beam from his chest. Your attacker was suddenly terrified as he fell onto his back.

The man stopped the red beam before it could hit the shaking man. The blond approached him.

“Leave. Now,” he ordered.

The mugger scrambled to his feet and bolted. Your mouth hung open as you remained in your curled position. You had no idea what to think about what just happened. You noticed a hand held out to you.

“Are you alright?” the blond asked softly.
You nodded, taking his hand and standing.
“You just…and the ground just…”
The man looked away. “Yeah. It did.”
“Thank you,” you managed to mutter, “I thought I was a goner, but you saved me.”
“And it’s a shame I don’t know your name,” he joked, deflecting the gratitude.
“Y/N. My name’s Y/N,” you offered.
“Alex,” he returned with a smirk, “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to make sure you get home safe.”
You nodded. “After that, I don’t think I could pass.”

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dat-eyebrows  asked:

how would guy react to a super big burly man with a baby face and a kajillion freckles with ginger hair up in a bun and wearing the laundered pink dress who is like, hero mchero pants and also Really Fucking Gay and Too Nice i need to know for Science

“…thats a cute dress.” hed also just be generally a bit nervous, as he is with meeting most new people, but im sure hed mellow out after a bit