hiya!!! you can call me cookie, i write all the time, post occasionally…
my main interests are:
⋆ music (litro anything from early bmth to 1d to labi siffre)
⋆ wrestling (indies, aew, wwe, njpw...the lot)
⋆ films + tv (fav films: labyrinth, the crow, top gun; tv: ted lasso, tua, the it crowd)
⋆ football (i support arsenal but am happy to write for anyone lol)
my masterlist links for fics are below and my requests are always open for business! i will write for any of the above topics and am also open to write for basically anything!
MASTERLISTS:
WRESTLING
MUSIC
FOOTBALL
FILMS + TV
NOTE: as standard, i do have boundaries so will not write for things that will make me uncomfortable. it’s important to me that my views on these things are respected, so i will not write for things such as r4pe, inc3st or b3astiality, so please don't request them. aside from that, i heavily welcome all your requests, and am open to writing smut if you wish!
if you'd like to be friends i'm always open for a chat! likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome and are very much appreciated :))
thnks for taking the time to read my intro post, love you lots and happy reading!
In the WWE, everyone wants to rise to the top. They all wanna be the best, and they all want that power that comes with stardom.
When you, an older member of the NXT roster, finally begin to make your way up the rankings, you're halted by the spark of a sudden friendship with the Starboy of the industry, Cody Rhodes. As you continue your journey through your career, will you be able to cope with the pressure of the fame, and will your feelings get the best of you in the end?
you don’t normally pick people up on the street. but this one…there was something about him. something you remembered, and that you thought you'd lost.
tw: nothing here, maybe a lil mention of bad relationship with parents but thats about it
word count: 505
chapter two
It felt like the world had stopped moving.
He came back?
His eyes flick, as if in desperation, around your face. He spoke your name as if it pained him.
“Get in the car.” As the words escape you, you realised it was not a request, but a demand.
—
Vic scratched his neck and looked out the window briefly, shuffling nervously in the passenger seat. Neither of you quite knew where to begin.
“I can’t believe you came back.” You finally break the silence echoing through the car.
“I can’t believe you’re still here.” Vic laughs softly, waving his hand in a gesture towards the window.
“Well, I didn’t really have much of a choice!” You snap back. You didn’t mean for it to come off that harsh.
He pauses and attempts to meet your gaze. “I didn’t mean-“
“It’s fine.” You keep your eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“No, it’s not-“
“There’s nothing to say that you didn’t 10 years ago. It’s okay. Drop it.”
His eyes search your face for any clues of emotion.
”I thought college was gonna work out for you.” He finally comments. “Your mom had it all planned out, she had the fund, I gave you that money-“
“And we didn’t need your money, Vic.” You breathe, hoping not to fully let loose on him.
You believe people can change. Plus, his life didn’t and shouldn’t have had to revolve around you.
“The money couldn’t go to college. We had to pay the bills, we couldn’t afford to keep both ends of the scale balanced. Mom couldn’t handle it. I had to help somehow.”
Vic seems to be at a loss for words.
The deafening silence continues for a good few minutes, the occasional traffic light causing you to sigh as you re-enter the town centre.
”Where are you heading?” Your head rotates towards him, and for the first time, you get a good look at his face. He has the same side-swept bangs, the same semi-crooked teeth, and the same eyes that lock into your soul and melt it away.
”Home, I hope.” He whispers.
You chuckle. “And where might that be?”
He gives you a glare. “You think my parents will really let me crash?”
“I doubt they’ll want to see you, Vic.” You reply honestly.
The silence prolongs and you briefly ponder the consequences of your next words.
“You can stay at mine.” You keep your hands gripping the wheel and eyes straight ahead, acutely avoiding eye contact.
”You really don’t have to.” He stammers.
“I want to.” You reply almost too quickly.
Vic glances over at you briefly and smiles softly.
”Thank you.”
You return the gesture and make sure you’re focused on the road.
He coughs lightly and looks shyly back up at you. “I’m just glad to see you again.”
You lock eyes, and you place your hand on his for a few seconds before lifting it slowly back to the wheel, not wanting to lengthen the moment.
”Me too, Vic.”
woah how did chapter two come out so fast...maybe coz its already on ao3...maybe you should sub to my ao3 too...its xtremerulez on there as well...
you don’t normally pick people up on the street. but this one…there was something about him. something you remembered, and that you thought you'd lost.
word count: 521
chapter one
The sun had set and the lights of your car cast a dim glow upon the street before you. No rain, no clouds, just you and the open black sky littered with bursts of stars here and there. It’s 9.43pm, and you wouldn’t normally expect to be driving this late.
Well, you also didn’t expect to get fired this morning.
It’s not like it was your dream job regardless, however, it still stung that they felt you weren’t working hard enough. You squeezed in extra shifts, scrambling to make ends meet, and being fired was just a kick in the teeth. You had only been there for 6 months now, before that swapping between jobs and spending your days in interviews. You recalled your conversation with your manager earlier that day and clenched your jaw. It all felt like a constant downward spiral.
You shake your head dismissively, trying to distance yourself from the situation and move forward efficiently, in any way possible.
When you were younger, you wanted to be a star, or at the very least have a fraction of a relation to music, your one thing rooting you back to the earth when you felt that you were floating so far above it. Having studied every book on guitars, the wiring of every pedal, even picking up your dad’s cracked old camera to take pictures for a slither of cash at a local bar where your friends played, you felt like you had something. The few friends you had took off as soon as the last bell rang for college, knowing exactly where their dreams were taking them. Your dreams were shattered when you couldn’t get the support in your small town, your parents unsupportive of your journey and laughing at the mention of being famous.
Most of all, you wanted stability. At the moment, you felt like you’d collapse from the imbalance of everything.
That’s why the night drive was necessary. Something to clear your head. Something to pull you out of this, even for an hour.
As you continue down the long, seemingly never ending road out of town, you notice a bench about a mile ahead. It didn’t seem to you like it was there before, from the few times you’d taken this route. The gap between you and the bench decreases, and your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you.
There’s a guy sitting there.
He’s got shoulder length hair with a jagged fringe, tanned skin and is sporting black jeans and a grey hoodie. He has his hands clasped tightly together in front of him, looking down at them. He looks sad, and you feel a pain in your chest.
You seriously can’t just stop by some random dude on the side of the road. Or…
You slow the car down, rolling down your window cautiously, knowing you can’t fully trust this guy, or anyone at the moment. His eyes meet yours, and the car comes to an abrupt jolted stop.
Normally, you don’t stutter. Suddenly, you’ve started to.
You drive the car slightly forward to get level with him.
“Vic?”
I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! the second is also out now so be sure to check that out here! please let me know if you like this story by reblogging, liking and commenting!
this ain’t your end of town, is it, cowgirl? - party poison x sabrina carpenter
battery city doesn’t often get fresh faces. just older and uglier ones. so a blonde girl with a bite appearing on the doorstep of the wanted killjoys? not your average day at the office.
CHAPTER ONE - even the children of the revolution know how much party poison needs his coffee in the morning
WORD COUNT: 347
BATTERY CITY'S OUTSKIRTS - DAWN
“Rise and shine, tumbleweeds. This is your eye in the sky, Dr. Death Defying, flying the daily updates on our very own Battery City your way. The sky's cries today call for a lack of stratus-faction above, with beams of gorgeous ultraviolet radiation from the heaven as usual, with zero precipitation expected on this fine day. Keep your feet on the ground, Killjoys. Over and out.”
Party rubbed his eyes thoroughly, rolling up out of bed to shove his feet into his beaten multi-coloured sneakers. He didn’t even bother to pick up the unwashed laundry strewn across the floor, that would be someone else’s job for later. Now, he just needed a coffee.
Everyone else seemed to be asleep, the snores of Jet Star echoing through their small home in what some would call the middle of nowhere. Fun Ghoul’s arm could be seen tucked under his pillow as Party stepped out of the room, and Kobra was sure so be somewhere around here. Good, Party thought to himself, I can have a coffee in peace.
Party mashed up his coffee beans with a hammer into a plastic bag, a makeshift grinder of sorts. The beans had been stolen by some friends nearby. You see, even the children of the revolution know how much Party Poison needs his coffee in the morning.
He collapsed into the stall in the kitchen with a sigh, lifting up his mug from the table and inhaling the scent of the fresh brew.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
”’The hell?” Party set his coffee down, sliding his pistol into his hand from its pocket. Rubbing his eyes, he stepped up to scan the porch. Only when I get a moment’s peace does someone knock on my goddamn door, he sighed. He peeked through the crooked letterbox and was taken aback by the sight before him. A 5 foot nothing blonde in a full western get-up with a light punk convertible parked haphazardly behind her.
"Uhm, hello? Could you help me for a minute, hun?"
This was gonna be a long day.
NOTES: I love this idea and hope I can encourage myself enough to continue it rahhhh
in my eyes sabrina has a southern twang and is an actual cowgirl dont @ me pls
i'm the only friend that makes you cry - party poison x reader
tw: mentions of death, guns (shoot out), swearing, blood
HIIIIII i'm currently doing some random writing prompts just to get my creativeness flowing so here's one i just wrote from this pic! please let me know if you enjoy this, i'm thinking of making this into a whole story! :)
WORD COUNT: 959
It was in your names. Killjoy. Kill. Joy. Die, but happy. Die with your mask on. Which you were surely about to.
You jerked a hand out of the speeding Trans Am to launch a golden bullet into the skull of a Draculoid a couple of hundred yards off. Sticking your hand out seemed to be a bad idea, you realised as one of the mindless leather-faced cretins gripped your wrist, yanking you forward.
You lost control due to the surprise, allowing yourself to be dragged upwards, the force bending your arm into shapes you didn't know it could. The motorcycle parallel to your door had matched the speed of your car at such a precision that you were being pulled apart like a slinky between the gap.
You felt an immediate reaction on your left side as a gloved hand clutched your waist, belonging to Party Poison. You struggled with the vice-like grip of the Draculoid and pulled like your life depended on it. Because, well, it did.
Once Party had wrapped a free arm around you to yank you back into the 70mph vehicle of death, he let go of the wheel, reached around you, clutched his pistol and aimed it effortlessly between the attacker's eyes. Within seconds both of his dust-ridden hands were back on the wheel.
"Look Mom, no hands." They laughed between sharp inhales.
Before you could even react, Party's eyes shot wide and he spun towards his own window, firing another blast at the original bastard you were aiming for, stopping it dead.
Your heart raced and you instinctively clutched your chest. Without warning, you instantly felt crippling heat in your wrist, which drew your eyes to the gash of blood. Fuckin' Draculoid must have had blades in its gloves. Strangely, you were unmoved by the sight of anyone else's blood, but yours sent a ripple through your spine.
Party was immediately alerted to the sight. "Shit, you okay?" His brows furrowed and his eyes flickered between you and the vast orange blanket of road ahead.
"I think..." You manage, still struck by the slither of blood trickling down your arm, thick and slow, like wine.
"Don't touch it. I'll find somewhere to stop."
You nodded silently, the pain stinging you too much to respond.
---
You eventually pulled over beneath a cliff, cornered off enough that you would be out of sight for anyone nearby. The blood had thoroughly stained your clothes that clung to your skin, however you were bleeding significantly less now.
Wheels screeched and you climbed from your seat, circling round the car to sit on the hood of the vehicle. If anyone else tried to sit there, they’d be made to sleep on the diner floor for the rest of the month. Party just brought you the medical supplies and didn’t utter a word.
“Here, clean it with this first.” He instructed, handing you the alcohol and wool, pulling apart a roll of bandage.
You did as instructed, the alcohol stinging worse than the original pain, causing you to wince.
"Sorry." they muttered, handing you the end of the bandage as he spun it round your wound with care. "It shouldn't be too bad. Just a lot of blood. Pretty badass." He added light-heartedly, noticing the tears welling in the corner of your eyes.
You sniffed and mustered an "It's okay", unsure whether it was for yourself or them. To distract you from the pain, you focused on Party's concentration in tying the bandage up with precision.
"You don't have to do this, Party." You sighed, looking up at them through your lashes. You felt bad at how much he and the others take care of you, always clearing up any mistakes you made due to having less experience than them and fixing your wounds when you got yourself in trouble.
"'S not about that. I want to." He replied softly, his eyes meeting yours with a small smile.
"I just don't want you to think you should have to take care of me, I mean- I'm always the one slowing things down, I just-" You efforts stilled as his hand moved gently away from your wrist to your cheek, brushing it with his thumb.
"I know what you think." They nodded. "And you should know I don't believe any of that. You're one of us, whether you like it or not. It' not about having to, we want to look out for each other, and I wanna look out for you because I care about you, got it?" They held your gaze for a moment and you nodded back tears. "Good." They continued tying the bandage, arms resting on your knees.
You pulled your sleeves down wipe your sneaking tears with your wrist, trying to hide them to no avail.
"I'm definitely the only one allowed to make you cry, right?" He breathed humorously, smirking up at you.
"Fuck off, Party" You laughed despite yourself, kicking him away.
They stood up smugly to sit next to you on the hood, your battered, torn knees brushing against each other. Party turned their head towards you momentarily, scanning your face, darting to your lips for a second or two. Before you could face them, their head lay in the crook of your neck, fingers finding their way to slide between yours.
And just for that brief moment, you were at peace again.
EEEEK please let me know if you enjoyed!! remember that likes, comments and reblogs are a writer's best friend! if you'd like a continuation of this story please do tell me! also first time using he/they pronouns ina fic- I normally would use they/them for Party but wanted to try something new and cater for all :))
What do you mean “chat” is now referring to ChatGPT and not twitch chat? What? What? What the fuck? No?
When I address chat I am speaking to a presumed Greek chorus of real human people shitposting on their lunch break, not a machine that devours lakes to covert electricity into slop.
when I see a stranger post or talk about my ship outside of my timeline (so I don’t expect to see them and I’m caught off guard), my brain always reflexively goes “excuse me those are my men 🤔 my middle-aged sons 🤨🤨 how do you know my sons?🤔” despite knowing they’re from a popular show with a huge fandom
kaledo-art
jbbartram-illu
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
gummygunk
stormborns
