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#edits by dee
gregsnero · 1 year
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THE GANG AS LPS!!
took 20 minutes but i think its pretty accurate not gonna lie i outdid myself
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charlie
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dennis
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mac
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dee
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frank
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ladiesofcinema · 5 months
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HAVANA ROSE LIU for V Magazine
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moondirti · 26 days
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pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.
honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up
PART 1 • PART 2
tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.
It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.
Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.
Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.
Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.
“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.
“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.
“Yeah.”
“Reckon I know the road.”
Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.
Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?
30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.
They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.
They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.
The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.
“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”
And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.
(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)
“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”
“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.
“Si.”
“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.
“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.
No one speaks for a while. Then–
“I don’t think I should go home right now.”
Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.
“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”
Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”
“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.
Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.
“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”
“Not what I meant, pet.”
You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.
Johnny bridges the gap.
“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”
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next part
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chrliekclly · 28 days
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dee “tell me i’m good” reynolds’ selective memory
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mirai-e-jump · 1 year
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カービィ・スイートドリームス
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strike-n-brawl · 9 months
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When ur gang small but yall crazy af !!!
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dumpster-dory · 4 months
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guys did i do it right
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nookisms · 3 months
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Finished my second Kirby game
Went from "Yay there's so many different games to choose from! (he's a jolly fellow 🤨)" to "Humanity Is Extinct, Your Friends Are Kidnapped, And Something Haunts This Land"
Masterpost
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youreeatingthedog · 6 months
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It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia - Succession style intro
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startistdoodles · 2 years
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Kirby has important things to say
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humming-fly · 1 year
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Who better to trust with a secret than a known liar?
anyways my apologies to b99 and happy countdown to the magolor bullying simulator release later this month! 
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ladiesofcinema · 17 days
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MELISSA BARRERA for Numéro Netherlands
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sailorsally · 1 month
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Inspired by current events - The Whole Nine Inches in cinemas near you
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skillbattle · 1 year
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kirby posting
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mirai-e-jump · 1 year
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星のカービィ「Swing Kirby in Dream Land」
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ballerinapriincess · 8 months
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❝ Oh, you're a villain, all right -- just not a "super" one. ❞
Wanted to finish this other drawing I did when sketching the Barbenheimer one.
Bonus: She tried to get Dexter to join them.
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