#I am a mixed bag of emotions tonight

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

Y’all ever just wanna have fun and not worry about anything but then your brain keeps yelling “be sad! Be sad right now! No fun only sad!

#I’m probably gonna delete this later lol #I am a mixed bag of emotions tonight #and I didn’t even drink #so sad hours are also sober sad hours #anyways you saw nothing #sad girl hours are here #sorry y’all #gonna have to deal with my emotions for the night

[strangersmunsons]

bark at the moon

there's something suuuuper weird in your garage. your best friend Robin calls up her old pals, Steve and Eddie, to come and take a look.

Contains: Eddie x Fem!Reader. Mix of canon & Modern AU, w/ tweaks to established lore (faithfulness to the source material? I don’t know her). Plot of the show is more or less the same, but focus will be on minor threats escaping from the Upside Down, and no more. Everyone is aged up a bit, timeline of events is kept vague. Reader learns some secrets that are tough to wrap her head around, Eddie is an awkward sweetheart, and platonic!Stobin reigns supreme. Word Count: ~8.1k Warnings: Some brief descriptions of gore. Reader has a mild panic attack. Mentions of food & eating. Strong language. I've been tinkering away at this fic since the summer; it's a little different than the sweet & fluffy stuff I normally post, but I had a blast writing it! So I hope you guys enjoy! 🩷

“Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” You smack a kiss to Robin’s cheek and push your stool back against the bar. “Try not to get into too much trouble tonight. It’s only Thursday.”

“No promises,” Vickie chimes in, grinning toothily at you, cheeks flushed from a mix of joy and booze. 

“I mean it.” You jab a finger in her direction, only half-jokingly. “If you FaceTime me again at 3 AM so I can provide ‘emotional support’ while you’re puking your guts out in the bathroom, I’m hanging up.”

Vickie doesn’t even blink. “You won’t hang up,” she replies dismissively.

She’s totally right, but you don’t say so.

“Just try and keep your insides where they belong, please. They should be, y’know — on the inside. Alright? I love you both. Goodnight!” You blow another dramatic kiss in their direction as you saunter out of the bar, weaving between sticky tables over the even-stickier floor to the exit. 

Lizzy’s is you, Robin, and Vickie’s favorite haunt, a nondescript dive bar located on the outskirts of town. It’s a squat, dingy little building tucked neatly away into a thicket of trees at the deadend of a backroad. There’s no neighbors or rival businesses in sight, just a small parking lot with a defunct telephone booth that probably hasn’t worked in several decades. The bar is usually only frequented by patrons belonging to one of two exclusive sects: members of the local biker gang, and this random lesbian couple and their one friend. 

Truly a hidden gem.

Happy Hour at Lizzy’s has been a tradition for you and Robin (and Vickie, when she chooses to tag along) since you met at work retreat a year ago. When you caught sight of her funky patched-up blazer and choppy hairstyle, you immediately clocked her as the other youngest, coolest person in the room and forced your friendship upon her in the name of survival. Who else were you gonna hang out with for an entire weekend — Matt from HR who, ironically, was on probation for sending a coworker unsolicited dick pics? No way.

“Hey, can you hold the other side of my bag open for me? I’m gonna jam these cookies in there — quickly, while no one’s looking.”

Two peas in a pod, stealing extra goodies from the complimentary snack table and gossiping in the back row during presentations when you should’ve been listening. You’ve been attached at the hip ever since.

Full of mirth from the quality time spent with your best friend, you hum cheerfully to yourself as you push through the exit and step outside. The door whacks shut behind you, closing you off from the bar’s warm interior, and immediately, you take notice of two things.

First, you’re met with a surprising chill in the air. It’s been pretty temperate so far this week, and  pleasantly warm earlier in the day, but it’s become startlingly cold in the mere hours you were inside the bar. You swear you can see a frozen puff of breath each time you exhale. You hug your arms around yourself, frowning slightly. Gravel crunches under your feet as you walk to your car.

The second thing you notice is that it’s obscenely dark out. A single orange streetlamp flickers in the parking lot, illuminating little more than the fluttering moths bashing themselves stupidly into the bulb. There’s no moon in the black-velvet sky; it’s just a blanket of darkness above. You glance at the watch on your wrist, but the time is indiscernible without proper lighting. I guess it’s later than I thought?

The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. There’s a gross, inexplicable feeling of nakedness as you cross the lot; the cold, unexpected dark and loss of time has you feeling disoriented and exposed. Naturally, your mind begins dredging up scenes from every horror movie you’ve ever watched, and you pick up the pace. Reaching the car, you wrench open the driver-side door, eager to be within the safe confines of the vehicle.

You slide in, and release a relieved breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Slumping back against the seat, you think, Man, I gotta lay off the slasher flicks.

The moment doesn’t last long. Another bolt of paranoia suddenly shoots through you — you whip your head around, searching the backseat for a killer lurking in the shadows, waiting to slice your throat open, possibly with a machete, or maybe even a hook attached to a stumpy wrist.

Nothing there. Totally empty. Not even an extremely trim, flexible murderer contorting themselves out of view down on the cramped floor space.

“It’s fine,” you say aloud to no one in particular, turning forward again. You start the car and ease out of the lot, switching the radio to a pop station — your last line of defense. No one ever got brutally murdered while listening to Britney. 

Thankfully, the ride is uneventful, and nobody pops up behind you with any instruments of violence. The further you get into town, with its familiar lights and gentle hum of nighttime traffic, the more at ease you feel. Your mind drifts, thinking of work, what you’ll make for dinner tomorrow, whether or not Vickie will be throwing up within the next hour. Any mundane topic that’ll help calm your nerves.

Eventually you reach home and pull into the garage. It’s a miracle you can even still park in there, it’s so full of junk — old furniture and hardware tools and odds and ends you haven’t had the energy to try and sort through.

A sigh escapes as you cross the threshold that separates the garage from the house. The sweet, homey kitchen is a welcome sight to enter. You put a kettle on for a cup of tea before bed, and decide to dial Robin while you wait for the water to boil.

She picks up after several rings.

“Hello my love.”

“Hi Rob. I’m alive.”

“Oh, good. That would’ve been awkward if it was someone else calling me.”

“Are you still at the bar?” 

“Yeah, we’re leaving in a few. Vickie says she’s fine, but she’s got that look in her eye, so…”

There’s a faint “I am fine!” in the background and you snicker. “Good luck with that.”

Robin snorts. “Thanks. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Robin bids you goodnight, and you feel a rush of affection for her. Your roommate recently moved out to go live with her boyfriend, leaving you as the sole tenant of the house. Although you reassured her endlessly that you had no issues living alone, Robin was insistent on constantly checking up on you lest you ‘get SVUed’ — her phrasing, not yours.

The kettle starts whistling, and you pour the steaming water into a mug with a bag of chamomile. You plop down on the soft cushion tied to the kitchen chair, letting the weariness of the day settle in your bones. 

You scroll idly through your phone while sipping your tea, ignoring the slight burn it leaves on your lips and tongue. The old house settles and creaks while you relax, making those soft noises that you’ve become accustomed to over time. In fact, you’re so used to it by now that in your sleepy state, you don’t even register the odd sound in the garage, a sort of thunk, not unlike that of a confused bird flying into a picture window. 

When the last drop of tea is gone, you place the mug in the dishwasher and head for your bedroom. You go through the steps of your night routine as though on autopilot before finally crashing into the plush bed. Within minutes, sleep takes you.

The sound of your alarm is innocuous enough — a small tinkle of bells or chimes or whatever cheerful twee instrument it is that Apple is using. 

It’s incredible how something so innocent can sound so ungodly. Ugh.

Barely lifting your head up off the pillow, you drag the trilling device towards you with snatching fingers and turn it off. Maybe you’ll get up when the second alarm goes off, but let’s be honest — it probably won’t be until the third, and even then you might steal a few extra minutes under the covers. 

Eventually you manage to pull yourself upright and, with a huge yawn, lurch out of bed. You shuffle down the hall, thinking of little more than the bagel you’re gonna demolish before jumping in the shower, and make your way back into the kitchen. Your bare feet pad softly across the linoleum floor, cold and sticking slightly to your heels. The sky outside the window is a dark, deep blue. 

Then finally, in the stillness of the early morning, you hear a dull thud.

You pause halfway to the toaster. 

Ten seconds go by. Silence.

Okay, that’s fine, it’s probably noth–

Thud. 

Goddamn it.

There’s a stab of alarm as the sound repeats again, then twice more in rapid succession. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to remain calm, and grab the softball bat you keep propped up by the door. Safety first.

You tiptoe cautiously to the door separating the kitchen and the garage, thinking it’s probably a raccoon or something, he slipped inside when I drove in last night. Actually, there’s so much shit in there, he’s probably been living there for weeks. I really should call a Junk King – 

You push the door open slowly, peering around the edge, prepared to fight. Your self-defense weapon is made of bright pink aluminum that catches the dim kitchen light emanating from behind you, glinting in your hands. You’re pretty sure it’s a little-league number so, clearly, it’ll be an even match for whatever it is that awaits you.

At first, nothing appears out of the ordinary. There’s no human silhouettes lurking in the dark. Everything is more or less the same as it was last night. The car is right where you left it, and the windows are intact. The spare furniture crammed against the perimeter is still there – nothing is missing or vandalized. But the room is still too dark for you to make out any less obvious differences, so you reach for the lightswitch on the left side of the doorframe.

And then, from the far corner of the room, up towards the ceiling, there’s an ear-splitting screech that nearly stops your heart. 

Before you even have time to blink, a shadowy mass is suddenly flying straight at you. It’s still mostly obscured in the dark — whatever it is — a nebulous blur that swings in a low arc across the room. It’s moving so quickly that the air whistles as the creature cuts a path through it.

You let out a shriek of your own and spring backwards, slamming the door shut. It’s just barely closed when it collides into the wood with a frightening crash. You lock the door with numb fingers and slump back against it with your heart in your throat, and a hot, loose feeling in your lower stomach that, in the midst of your hysteria, you manage to acknowledge as a warning that you might shit your pants.

You lurch forward and spin around, now watching the door with wide eyes. The noise from before, which you now understand must have been that thing flinging itself against the walls, resumes with a fervor that makes you sick with fright. It slams into the door relentlessly, and you physically cringe with each hit.

With shaking hands, you pull one of the kitchen chairs out and prop it underneath the door handle. You really don’t think it could be strong enough to break through, but…

At least you don’t think —

“Robin, I’m about to die.”

“...at six-thirty in the morning? Can you put it off until this afternoon, at least?” 

Robin’s voice is still thick with sleep and there’s no doubt that she’s irritated by your early phone call, but right now, you could care less.

“I think there’s some kind of cryptid in my garage.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.

“Come again?”

“Like, I think the fucking Jersey Devil is in there, or something. When I got up this morning I kept hearing this weird noise, so I put my big girl panties on and went to investigate –”

“By yourself? Are you dumb? What if someone was in there?”

“Hey, I had protection, okay? Besides, I figured it was probably a racoon. If it had been a person planning on hurting me, they weren’t being very discreet about it –”

“Alright, alright. Continue.”

“So I open the door, and next thing I know, this thing screams and starts fucking flying directly at my head. I didn’t get a good look at it, Rob, it was too dark, but that thing is out for blood. It keeps flying into the door. Listen to this shit.”

You put your phone on speaker and hold it out, standing as close to the door as you’re willing to get.

“Um, I can’t hear anything.”

“...well…it was doing it earlier...”

“...right. So, what, a bird flew into your garage?”

“A bird? Maybe.” That sort of fit, right? Whatever it was, it had wings. It was kind of big. It made noise. You consider. “Could be a bat, I suppose.”

Across town, Robin suddenly sits bolt upright in bed. Vickie mumbles incoherently next to her, half-awake from hearing your too-early conversation. 

“I’m coming over,” Robin says abruptly, and hangs up.

Flinging herself out of bed, Robin begins dressing frantically, scrambling to pull a pair of jeans up over her bare legs. Drawers and closet doors bang open and slam shut again. Vickie groans from beneath her pillow. “Could you keep it down, please?”

“No, sorry babe. Gotta go. I’ll explain later.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You rub your temples in irritation and throw yourself back down on the couch. You’ve taken refuge in the living room while you wait for Robin, and have spent the past fifteen minutes going back and forth with animal control. Trying to convince them to come get this thing out of your house? An exercise in futility.

A frantic knocking makes you jump, before you realize it’s coming from outside the house. You cautiously enter the kitchen again and when you see Robin’s face through the small pane of glass in the front door, your whole body sags with relief. You fling it open breathlessly and throw yourself at her. “Thank God!” The words are muffled, as your face is pressed into her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay!” She slings her arm around you in a hug and pats your back. “We’re gonna take care of this.”

You release her and start venting your frustration. “Yeah, we’ll have to. I tried calling animal control and apparently they can’t do anything since it’s not a dog or a cat, and they kept telling me I had to call a wildlife removal agency instead, and they just kept going on about how they have to send a professional who specializes in birds or bats or whatever the hell it is, and that it’s gonna cost me like at least two hundred bucks –”

Robin cuts off your rambling. “I don’t think you should call anyone.”

You huff. “I certainly don’t want to, if it’s gonna cost me that much. I thought this was what animal control did. What am I paying taxes for?”

Robin’s been here all of two minutes and you already feela little better. The run-in earlier had frightened you, certainly, but you’re no longer alone in the house with an eldritch horror.

Robin shakes her head. “No, I mean I already called someone.”

That stops you, and you squint at her in confusion. “Who? You know a guy who handles this kinda thing?”

“...actually, I know two.”

Eddie’s green-and-white van screams around the corner, practically making the turn on two wheels.

“Jesus, Munson, slow down!”

“Relax, Harrington. I’m a certified expert driver. My insurance company said so.”

A Megadeth song that Steve doesn’t know thumps out of the speakers at a deafening volume. Eddie drums his hands on the steering wheel in time with the music, headbanging as vigorously as he can manage without taking his eyes completely off the road.

Steve reaches for the stereo knob and turns it down. Eddie shoots him a disgruntled look from the driver’s seat. “Hey, man —”

“We got somewhere to be, alright? I told Robin we’d get there ASAP. The last thing we need is for you to wrap this thing around a telephone pole.”

“If she didn’t move so far away, we would already be there,” Eddie complains.

“Dude, she lives like an hour away now. Hour and a half, tops.” 

“Well, that’s a long drive when it’s this early!”

Waiting for Robin’s reinforcements to arrive provides ample time for her to shatter your world. You sit together on opposite ends of the couch, staring at each other in intense silence. Your brow is deeply furrowed, eyes nearly shut from the force of the expression.

“Are you being for real, or is this an elaborate lie you’re making up that you’ll laugh at me for falling for later?”

Robin drags her finger across her chest, drawing an imaginary X. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds.”

You let out a high-pitched laugh that sounds more like a wheeze. “Yeah, it sounds fucking crazy!”

Robin’s expression turns resentful. “Hey, you’re the one who called me saying Mothman was in your garage this morning –”

“I said the Jersey Devil, actually, but c’mon! An interdimensional monster. Is that real? Can that really be real?”

“Listen, just think about what you saw. You were pretty freaked. Did it really seem like some rabied-up household pest?”

It didn’t. The odd, kite-like shape, the speed with which it flew, and the utter determination — there was no doubt in your mind that it had dived at you deliberately, with the malicious intent to bite and scratch and hurt. You remember the hot taste of fear in your mouth, like a bitter pill dissolved on the tongue.

“No, it didn’t,” you admit quietly. That thing, whatever it was, was weird. But that doesn’t make Robin’s story any easier to swallow.

When it came to the supernatural or…whatever this was considered, you were neither a believer nor a skeptic. You weren’t willing to fully corroborate the existence of such things until you had experienced something like it yourself, but you still took others’ reports in stride; if someone claimed that they felt cold spots in their grandmother’s bedroom after she died, or that their belongings often ended up in odd places despite no one moving them, then you rolled with it. Who were you to deny their experiences? You wouldn’t tell them they’re wrong. 

But Robin’s Upside Down, well…it’s giving less childhood ghost story and more Stephen King novel. One of the weirder ones too, that he wrote when he was still snorting a ton of cocaine. She’s on some Tommyknockers shit.

“You’ll see,” Robin promises. “When we kill it, you can get a good look at it.”

“Right, about that. Steve is your himbo friend from home, right?”

Robin smiles proudly. “The one and only.”

“But he’s good at this? Getting rid of these things?”

She nods eagerly. “Oh, very. I know I say he’s a himbo, but I’m selling him short, really, he’s the best. Best guy I know, in fact.”

You hear the pointed lilt in her voice, the one that’s always there when Robin mentions Steve to you. You roll your eyes. “There’s a monster in my garage, and you’re worried about getting me a date?”

Robin throws her hands up in defiance. “I’m just sayin’! He and his girlfriend Nancy broke up.” Her face suddenly lights up as she remembers a bit of gossip. “She’s bisexual now, by the way! Shame she didn’t realize it when we were in high school together, I had a huuuuge crush on her.”

“I thought you had a huge crush on Vickie in high school?”

“I did,” she says, as though there’s nothing contradictory about that fact. “Listen, I’m a complex, multifaceted lesbian, with a lot of —“

She’s interrupted by the knocking at the front door, and both of your heads turn automatically towards the sound. 

It’s your second house-call of the day. Robin jumps up, winking at you. “It’s gonna be fine,” she whispers, and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze.

You follow her back into the kitchen, where you’re promptly welcomed by the sight of two boy-faces smushed shamelessly against the glazing in the door. 

Robin rolls her eyes and yanks it open.

Without the door in place to support him, one boy loses his balance and topples forward, crashing into the kitchen. The other boy, who pulled back in time, laughs openly at him. 

“Hey, dinguses, this isn’t my house, remember? Don’t be weird.”

“There’s not a day in Munson’s life that he hasn’t been weird.”

The one pulling himself up off the floor grunts out, “I resent that.” When he’s fully upright, he gazes at you with wide eyes and a slight frown, not saying anything.

Robin steps in and they each take turns embracing her in greeting. One of them even ruffles her hair affectionately, and you watch the three of them with interest.

You’ve seen enough pictures of Steve Harrington by now that you could pick him out from a mile away. Of the two boys he’s taller, and more classically handsome, with his pretty features and artfully-sculpted hair. In his neat green pullover and pressed jeans, you can totally picture King Steve as he was in high school — athletic and rich and preppy, with his equally rich and preppy girlfriend.

While you recognize Steve immediately, this other boy you know less. He looks only vaguely familiar, perhaps a background figure in Robin’s photos. His dark hair is long, curly and disheveled, and his eyes are huge and starkly brown against his pale skin. Despite the early hour they must’ve left at, he's taken the time to deck himself out in black leather and loads of silver jewelry.

After he releases Robin, Steve introduces himself. He saunters forward confidently, one hand extended out towards you. “I’m Steve,” he says with a charming smile. He cocks his head slightly to the side, and there’s a brief pause for dramatic effect. “Steve Harrington.” 

In your peripheral vision, you can see Robin holding a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. The other boy shoots him a dirty look.

You shake his hand politely, mildly amused. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”

When Steve releases your hand, the dark-haired one gives you an awkward wave. “I’m Eddie.” 

The name rings a bell. You wave back and smile at him kindly. “Hi, Eddie.”

He shuffles his feet, Reeboks squeaking against the linoleum, not quite meeting your eyes. 

“I’m really glad you both are here,” you add, glancing between the two boys. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Our pleasure,” Steve replies. “Always happy to be of service —”

“So,” Eddie cuts in, “where did you find this little fucker, anyway?”

“The garage.” Your voice is soft with trepidation. “The door’s right there.”

Three sets of eyes, blue and hazel and brown, follow the line of your pointed index finger. The chair is still jammed underneath the knob in a feeble attempt to barricade the door.

“Alright, we just need to grab our stuff from the van,” Eddie tells you. “And we’ll take care of it. If there’s only one, it shouldn’t take us long at all.”

You nod, like this is all good and normal and not the weirdest morning of your life. “Okay.”

When they move to head outside again, Steve eyes your little pink aluminum softball bat, back in its place in the corner. He smiles. “Hey, I got one of those!“

Eddie jogs lightly to catch up with Steve as he strides to where the van is parked outside.

“Hey,” he hisses, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. “You didn’t tell me this was Robin’s hot friend.”

“Huh?” Steve squints at him, disgruntled. “Who else would it have been?”

“I don’t know, literally anyone?”

“If I’m talking about Robin’s friend, then I’m talking about her. I didn’t realize I had to clarify.” He yanks the trunk open, and his voice takes on a more taunting tone. “Why? You nervous that a girl is actually speaking to you for once?”

Eddie steps back, visibly stung. “Hey, fuck you, man.”

Steve and Eddie’s friendship is not as tenuous as it once was, but sometimes old habits die hard.

Steve softens immediately, face painted with regret. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he mutters, swiping a hand through his hair. He sighs. “I bumped into Nancy at the store yesterday, I’m not in a good mood.”

Eddie nods awkwardly, not really sure how to answer. “I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, um…again.”

“Thank you…for that reminder,” Steve replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns to Eddie with narrowed eyes. “That we dated twice, and then also broke up twice.”

Eddie just smiles and claps him on the back. “I’m here for you, brother.”

From the kitchen window, you can see Steve and Eddie trudging back towards the house fully armed. Steve is holding a wooden baseball bat hammered-through with nails, and Eddie has what appears to be a makeshift spear — really, it’s just a big stick with a knife jerry-rigged on the end.

Robin takes in your open-mouthed shock. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, dumbfounded, staring. “This is fine.”

The boys reenter. Steve smiles brilliantly at you, face clearing of some previous sourness you don’t know the cause of, and gestures with his bat to yours. “We can upgrade that for you, if you want,” he jokes.

You chuckle uneasily, panic setting in as you stare at the lethal-looking spikes of the nails. “Heh…maybe later.”

Eddie watches you carefully, the way your fingers scrunch nervously into the fabric of your sleep shirt, and the occasional, rapid twist of your head that you can’t seem to control, like you’re desperately trying to clear your mind of something awful. 

Robin glances down at her buzzing phone, Vickie’s name and face popping up on the homescreen for the hundredth time this morning — apparently, she’s now awake and frantic that her clumsy girlfriend may have yet again gotten herself involved in some wild, life-threatening shenanigan.

“Just give me a minute, she’s freaking out,” Robin mumbles, pushing past you and into the living room for privacy.

Steve turns his back to you as he goes to remove the chair from under the knob, and Eddie takes this small opportunity to move closer to you. He wonders if he’d be going too far if he took your trembling hand in his.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs. “We’re not gonna let that thing get at you.”

You manage a nod, overwhelmed. Eddie reaches out and pats your arm but pulls back quickly, like he’s afraid to touch you for too long.  

Steve calls your name, and you turn to him, distracted.

The chair is back in its place at the table, and he gestures to the now-unprotected door. “Is it crowded in there?”

“Very,” you confirm. The untidy chaos in the garage would normally embarrass you, but given the circumstances, you’re a little beyond caring. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” he reassures you. “We’ll try and be really careful about your stuff.”

“But no promises,” Eddie adds, a smile touching his lips for the first time.

You try to smile back, still feeling bizarrely distraught. “Just try not to break my windshield, please.”

He laughs softly. “Sounds like a reasonable enough request.”

“Okay, Munson, you ready?”

“Yeah.” Eddie joins him by the door. There hasn’t been any more noise from the garage since you heard it this morning — you don’t know what that bodes for them.

They brace themselves, weapons raised and at the ready. With a flick of his wrist Steve opens the door, which slowly creaks open. Shoulders hunched, he crosses the threshold, and switches the light on. You watch with bated breath, anticipating the sharp cry to be uttered at any moment.

Nothing happens.

Both Steve and Eddie cautiously enter the garage, watching for any signs of life. Steve starts jabbing at the little nooks and crannies amongst your things, trying to poke it out of hiding.

Eddie crouches down on the ground and peers underneath your car. 

“See anything?” you ask hesitantly.

“Not yet,” answers Eddie in a low voice.

Steve peels a dusty tarp off of an old end table, opens up a discarded cabinet. “Come on,” he mutters.

Three agonizing minutes go by as they pick their way through the room, searching under and over and behind every bit of junk, neither boy finding what they’re looking for.

“Maybe it got out,” Steve muses, standing upright, relaxing his grip on the bat, letting it rest casually against his shoulder.

You shift uncertainly, still hovering from your post at the half-open door. “Would that be good or bad?”

“Good for us. Bad for the neighbors,” says Eddie.

Suddenly a streak of dark gray erupts from behind Steve.

You barely have time to yell; Steve, feeling the ripple of wind on the back of his neck, whirls around.

The creature beats its leathery wings and it’s moving up and up until it reaches the ceiling, circling the room, no doubt gauging which angle it should dive at and towards who. 

Instinct tells you to slam the door shut, like you did earlier, but then Eddie and Steve will be trapped. Instead you leave the door ajar, crouched in pathetic terror. The boys recover their stances quickly, muscles tensed, ready to swing and jab their respective weapons the moment it comes within in striking distance. Their faces are twin mirrors of fierce determination.

The creature goes for Steve first, swooping down on him; you’re horrified to see its open mouth is full of concentric rows of spiny teeth. You utter a sharp cry, almost unable to look, certain that he’s about to be mauled by this terrible thing.

And the creature is fast.

But Steve is faster.

There’s a horrible sound, a meaty thwack! as the baseball bat smashes into the monster, sending it careening over your parked car like a gnarly fastball. It hits the wall and slides to the floor.

Eddie wastes no time in slamming one heavy boot down on a tattered wing, pinning the dazed thing into place. With one sharp jab, the knife pierces deep into the creature’s belly. He gives the spear a swift jerk, dragging the knife down, and cleaves the body almost completely in two. Its oily flesh is taut, but fragile; the thin skin surrounding the wound peels back, and it splits open like an over-full garbage bag, glistening, red-black insides seeping out onto the hard concrete floor.

Eddie whistles. “Goodnight.”

Gobsmacked by what just unfolded, you tiptoe into the garage. “Is…is it dead?”

“Yup,” says Eddie, nudging the thing with his foot. “This is kind of a small one,” he calls over to Steve.

Steve’s puffing slightly, shoulders heaving with adrenaline. “I noticed that. Probably not doing too hot out here in the real world.”

You gape at them both, eyes flitting between the two boys. Small?

You creep closer to the pulpy mass, getting your first good look at your uninvited guest. If you were right about one thing earlier, it’s that this is certainly no common house bat; it’s gray and rubbery, made of slick naked flesh, with a long twisted tail like braided rope. Its wings are shot through with six spidery limbs, its small head little more than a gaping maw lined with razors. And despite Eddie and Steve’s comments, to you? This thing seems enormous.

Eddie smiles at you proudly. “And just think — we did it all without breaking your windshield.”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, about that…”

There’s a dent in the passenger-side door of the car. You’re sure if you were to hold Steve’s bat at the right angle against the dinged metal, it would fit in the depression like a glove.

Robin appears seemingly out of nowhere, leaning casually against the doorframe, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. 

“Hey. What’d I miss?”

The cleanup process is quick but dirty. Eddie scrapes up everything he can with a snow shovel of all things, and dumps the carcass unceremoniously into a Hefty bag — the real heavy-duty kind, with the red strings — as it was politely held open by Steve. Meanwhile, you scrub at the blood left behind, but it doesn’t do much. The ominous stain is likely etched into the garage floor forever.

Maybe you can throw a rug over it or something.

Robin yawns as she watches you work. “Can we go get breakfast? I’m starving.”

“I’m down,” says Steve, motioning for you to hand him the scrubber clutched in your hand.

You hand it over, but warn him, “I don’t think this is coming out.” He starts scrubbing anyway.

Eddie pipes up. “Are there any good diners around here?”

You wince. “We just threw an eviscerated monster in the trash. Don’t you need, like, a refractory period to deal with that level of gross?”

He thinks it over for a moment, then smiles and shrugs. “No.”

Laughter bubbles up and spills over your lips uncontrollably. It starts out normal, but then you can’t stop, and then it sort of feels like maybe you’re hyperventilating.

Robin, your soulmate, bless her, is always in tune with your emotions. She reacts quickly, kneeling down beside you on the cold floor, and wraps an arm around you. “Hey,” she says gently. “Relax, just breathe. I know everything you heard and saw today is literally insane, but it’s all okay.”

Robin’s hick hometown. Parallel dimensions. Little girl with superpowers. Monsters. Something about a gate...Monsters. Monsters from said-parallel dimension. Monsters from said-parallel dimension finding their way inside your home. Monsters in your home.

“Jesus,” you gasp in frustration, knuckling stupid tears at the corners of your eyes. “What is this?” 

“It’s a lot to take in, is what it is,” says Steve sympathetically. “But that thing’s dead, and you’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

“The big bad stuff is already finished,” Eddie adds. You didn’t notice, but he’s crouched down right next to you, mirroring Robin’s position on your other side. “Not to mention,” he nudges you playfully, “you’ve got two pretty damn good exterminators on speed dial now, huh?” He places a hand on your shoulder, and you can feel the warm metal of his rings through your shirt.

You manage a weak mile. “True. That was pretty impressive,” you sniffle. His fingers give a reassuring little squeeze, but — again — is quick to let go.

He glances at Robin and Steve. “You know,” he starts in an accusatory tone, “you guys were definitely not this nice to me when I had to find out about all this shit.”

“We were in a time crunch,” Robin says dismissively. “You had to get with the program.”

The hysteria starts to wane; your body slumps a little under the combined weight of Robin and Eddie’s arms. “I changed my mind.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “About what?”

“…I want breakfast now.”

The ride to the diner gives you a chance to mull over the bizarre nature of the morning’s events. You let your head fall back on the seat and close your eyes; a stranger thing has never happened to you. 

Part of you wonders why Robin never told you all this but you immediately dismiss the thought. Why would she, unless it was absolutely necessary, like today? In addition to being pretty far-fetched, the whole thing also sounds pretty fucking traumatic.

“What do you guys call those things again?” you mumble, turning to Eddie, who’s sitting next to you in the backseat of Robin’s car.

Eddie’s face turns pink when he hears you address him, though you can’t fathom why. “Uh, demobats.” 

“Demobats,” you repeat. “How’d you come up with that?”

Steve pipes up from the passenger seat. “The first monster we saw from the Upside-Down was called a demogorgon. Some nerds named it.”

“Oh,” you say faintly.

“We can talk about something else,” says Robin. She looks at you anxiously in the rearview mirror, suspicious that you’re going to fall apart again. 

“I’m fine, Rob. I’ve made my peace with it.” You pause, and amend. “I’m making my peace with it.”

“Oo-kay.” She drags out the first syllable, letting it be known that she doesn’t really believe you. 

“Are there very many of these things?”

Steve seems to hesitate before he answers. “We don’t think so. Only a dozen or so managed to slip through the gate before it shut, and we think we got most of ‘em when they were still flapping around Hawkins. We found one that nearly crossed over the border into Ohio — we were keeping an eye on the papers — but other than that, this is the furthest out of town we’ve heard of them going.”

You process this, not really sure what to say. There’s not really much you can say. Instead, you turn your head to the window and watch the world race by through the glass, letting it slide past your eyes in a blur of green and blue.

The diner’s parking lot is mostly empty. Work should have already started for most — only a handful of elderly patrons are inside, sipping coffee at the bar and reading the paper. 

The matronly waitress wiping down a table lets you know that the four of you can sit anywhere you like. Robin immediately slides into a booth by the window, well away from the other customers. 

Steve takes the seat across from her, hoping you’ll sit on the bench next to him, but you plop down tiredly next to Robin instead. Eddie takes the last open spot, opposite from you.

A hush falls over the group while you peruse the menu. The waitress comes and takes orders; waters all around, coffee, and juice, a blueberry short stack for Robin, French toast for yourself, a breakfast burrito for Steve, and fried eggs and sausage for Eddie, with a bottle of hot sauce, please and thank you.

Polite chatter resumes, and quickly devolves into familiar banter around mouthfuls of food, though you stay quieter than the rest, thoroughly worn out. Steve and Robin’s camaraderie takes up the bulk of the conversation, anyway, both of them firing back and forth at each other with ease. You decide that you like Steve — he’s clearly grown into a genuinely nice guy, different from the high school boy Robin told you he once was, but it seems he’s retained just the perfect amount of bitchiness. It’s easy to see why she’s so fond of him.

You’re content to watch and listen to them with mild amusement (though Steve periodically directs his comments towards you, subtly watching your reaction to what he says) and it seems that Eddie is, too. You can’t tell if he’s used to being their third wheel or if he’s just being shy because there’s a new person around.

Robin and Steve enter a fierce debate about something or other — the prospective music career of someone named Tammy that you vaguely recall being a former crush of Robin's. You face Eddie and ask in a hushed tone, “Are they always like this?” 

He swallows a bite of gooey, Tabasco-smothered egg. “Pretty much.”

“I wouldn’t have the energy,” you marvel.

Eddie chuckles. He shifts in his seat, and his leg bumps into yours under the table. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, turning pink again.

“That’s okay.” You study his face, which is angled down towards his plate, decidedly away from your gaze. His eyes are big and dark and warm, like sticky-sweet molasses.

“You have very pretty eyes,” you tell him matter-of-factly, just as there’s a lull in Robin and Steve’s argument. In tandem, both of them turn their heads to stare at you.

Surprise flickers across Eddie’s face when he realizes you’re speaking to him. His face warms to an even deeper red, but he looks pleased; and you’re glad for it. 

“Thank you?” It comes out like a question.

“You’re welcome.” You nod and give him a soft smile, which he returns, and for a moment you might as well be the only two people in the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Robin watches the exchange with her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised in surprise. You return to eating your breakfast, and she casts Steve an apologetic look. Eddie tries to keep his expression neutral, hiding his glee.

You excuse yourself to the restroom. As soon as you’re gone, Robin says, “Sorry, Steve.”

He just sighs in defeat, slumping back against the booth’s cushion. “Whatever.”

Eddie stabs a fork in his direction. “You’re not even over Wheeler yet, anyway. Let me have this.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “You’re still hung up on Nancy? Steve, come on.”

Steve’s mouth drops open. “You’re the one who said we should get back together!” he cries.

Robin’s mouth pulls to the side in mild guilt. “Which was a mistake on my part, I will admit.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” Eddie chimes in. 

Steve turns his incredulous look to Eddie. “And don’t even get me started on what you told me about her —”

“I’m the last person you should be taking relationship advice from,” he interrupts nonchalantly. 

Steve gapes at his so-called friends. Robin plows on.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re not over Nance, I’m not letting you near my girl. She’s not gonna be your rebound; she deserves better than that.”

“Yeah,” concurs Eddie, the word garbled around a forkful of food, “like me.”

Steve drops his head onto the table. 

“And stop trying to flirt with her, so I can.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a great job at that so far,” says Steve sarcastically, forehead still pressed against the formica.

“I’m gettin’ warmed up! Just give me a second, Christ.”

Steve, though snarky on the outside, is still soft on the inside, and so feels a pang of sympathy — he knows why Eddie’s nervous around girls. One drunken night he, Eddie, and Dustin had been shotgunning cans of shitty beer in the Hendersons’ backyard, and he’d spilled his guts about the abysmal reality of his love life. Not that Steve’s is going much better, obviously. But Eddie had deep-rooted fears that went beyond Steve’s understanding, insecurities that harkened back to his childhood and twisted into trickier and trickier knots the older he got. 

Eddie has his reasons to be nervous.

“Alright,” says Steve, finally yanking his head back up off the table. “I give, she’s all yours. But I’m gonna remind you — and don’t take this the wrong way — that all she’s done so far is give you a single compliment. Don’t get carried away.”

“Too late,” Eddie replies dreamily. “I’m already planning my proposal.”

Robin starts laughing, just as you approach the table again. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Boys,” she replies without hesitation. She takes another sip of coffee. “I’m so glad I’m gay.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast. When the waitress offers to bring the checks around, you’re quick to foot the bill.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” you say among the chorus of protests. “I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t shown up.”

“Ended up in the Weekly World News,” Eddie teases.

“What a high honor that would have been.” You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll pass.”

Steve drives everyone back to the house, and a wave of sadness washes over you as you all pile into the kitchen once more. The prospect of the boys’ departure fills you with a strange kind of emptiness; it hits you that you really don’t want them to leave. You’re already feeling attached.

You suppose being rescued from a monster is just one of those things that brings people closer together, like a family barbecue, or making a blood oath.

And truth be told, you feel slightly…uneasy. Discombobulated. Though the events of the morning are still fresh in your mind, the steps of your daily routine are drifting hazily back to you through the fog of shock. Normally at this hour, you’d be plugging away at work. You have an explanatory email to write to your boss for missing today, and you imagine Robin will be submitting something similar. A nine-to-five job, running errands, going to happy hour — they all seem so trivial. How are you supposed to go back to all those things as though nothing out of the ordinary happened? Knowing that your best friend used the free time she had between finishing high school and working retail to help save the world from monsters and government conspiracies and God only knows what other crazy shit?

It’s all too surreal. You grip the edge of the kitchen table with one hand, steadying yourself. Easy girl.

You glance around, then choose to settle your gaze on Eddie, soothed by all his dark, warm colors.

Steve checks his watch, sighing. “We should probably head back. I got the afternoon shift today.”

Robin shakes her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe that Family Video is still fucking open.”

Steve ignores this and immediately turns to you instead. “To clarify, I have a real job, too — I was part-time at my company, and now I’m transitioning to full-time.” He’s needlessly defensive. “Managing the video store’s been a nice side gig, but I swear I’m retiring.”

You blink. “You don’t have to defend Family Video to me, Steve. It’s a very respectable establishment.”

“Yeah,” agrees Eddie, “Fuck the government, you’re the real backbone of our society.”

“Fuck off, Munson.”

“Well, this has been a grand old time,” Robin interrupts their bickering, yawning and stretching her arms dramatically. “But I think I need to go home. Smooth things over with the wife before she starts panicking again.” As though suddenly remembering your earlier distress, she turns to you, frowning. “Do you need me to stay with you?”

Not wanting to burden your friend who is being oh-so-chill about the science-fiction film that is literally her life, you immediately lie. “No, I’m okay.”

Her bright blue eyes narrow, not believing you. “I’ll stay,” she says decidedly.

“No, Rob, I think I’m just gonna go to sleep, honestly.” You are tired. Your bones feel weary; you want nothing more than to collapse back into bed and slip into unconsciousness again. “You go ahead and go home.”

You shift your attention towards Steve and Eddie, who are both hanging quietly by the door.

“Again, I can’t thank you guys enough. Really,” you tell them again, stepping forward with arms outstretched. It doesn’t matter that you just met; you need a proper goodbye from both of them. Right away Steve obliges, and wraps his arms around you, patting your back gently before stepping away again.

Eddie hesitates, looking bashful when you turn to him next, and you lower your arms in embarrassment. You don’t want to make him feel like he has to hug you if he doesn’t want to. But before you can feel too stung about it, he steps forward and embraces you tightly.

It’s oddly intimate — his arms are low, circled around your waist, and his cheek presses against your hair. He sighs, a soft exhale that you can’t see or hear but rather, you feel. The creeping sense of loss grows stronger when he releases you again.

“See you soon, I hope.” Steve gives you a final wave, when he’s halfway out of the house. “We should all get together sometime. Y’know, on non-monster related business,” he jokes.

“For sure,” you promise, fluttering your fingers back at him.

“And if you ever need anything,” Eddie’s low voice is suddenly close to your ear, “just let me — us — know. We’ll be here before you know it.”

You let out a small, shuddery breath. “Thank you,” you whisper gratefully, touched by his attentiveness. Eddie seems to be the only other person who understands the gravity of what you’ve seen. Robin and Steve have been in the game too long, perhaps, and although they’re understanding, the remarkability of their Upside Down has worn off. 

Eddie, however, doesn’t appear to have achieved quite the same level of nonchalance that they have, and when he looks at you, his concern is tangible. It’s etched in the set of his frown, practically staring out at you from those big eyes of his. Those big, pretty eyes. 

“See you around,” he says softly. 

And with that, he’s gone.

thank you for reading!!! 🦇💙

taglist: @kores-mun-son-n-more

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #god i hope this pacing is okay? this is the longest fic I’ve ever written #can’t tell if I’ve jammed too much in here or not enough 🤷🏻‍♀️

[superlunar-eclipse]

Girl! I need more FBI Winchester!Sister reader stories! I hope that becomes a series 😩😩

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ COMFORT IN SOLITUDE

SUMMARY: After a tough case, Y/N and Dean retreat to separate motel rooms. Sensing Dean's distress, Y/N finds him at her door, visibly upset. She comforts him, calming him down. Despite their tough lifestyle, Dean finds peace in his big sister, Y/N.

WARNINGS: angst? blood and mentions of alcohol. (lmk if i missed any)

RELATIONSHIPS: dean winchester x Y/N winchester and mentions of sam winchester x Y/N winchester.

WORD COUNT: 878 words

AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for being my first request, i am will now be considering of making this into a series! Y/N is mentioned to had studied human behavior and emotions in college.

MASTERLIST 💫

The case they had worked on tonight had been mentally and physically taxing. A devastating amount of innocent lives had been prematurely extinguished due to the reckless choices of theirs. The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon their shoulders, and the somber mood permeated the car ride back to the motel.

A silent consensus was reached between them; they were simply too drained to embark on the journey back to the bunker. Their bodies were smeared in a morbid mix of their own blood and that of those they had been unable to save. They could hardly muster the energy to clean themselves up before collapsing into the worn leather seats of the Impala.

Upon arrival at the motel, they opted for separate rooms. Normally, if only two beds were available, Y/N would willingly relinquish hers to sleep on the couch while Sam and Dean took the beds. However, this time, Sam had stayed behind to delve into research, and both Dean and Y/N felt a strong desire for solitude.

Y/N dropped her heavy bag onto the threadbare motel carpet and rummaged through it for her night clothes. She trudged to the bathroom, her head hanging low, burdened by the night's events.

She shed her blood-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. She stood motionless, watching as the scarlet stains swirled away down the drain. After changing into fresh clothes, she sank onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion. She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, endeavoring to banish the haunting memories of the case from her mind.

In the silence of her room, Y/N became acutely aware that she should go and check on Dean. She knew the case had struck a particularly painful chord with him.

Both Dean and Y/N were alike in their habitual reluctance to open up about their feelings, but their coping mechanisms differed greatly. Dean often sought solace in alcohol, sometimes to the point of passing out, despite Y/N's repeated warnings that it was an unhealthy way to deal with his emotions.

Y/N, on the other hand, preferred to avoid sleep, choosing instead to distract herself with research. She poured over texts about demons, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures they might need to hunt in the future.

Having studied human behavior and emotions extensively in college, Y/N was adept at masking her feelings. However, tonight, she decided to reach out to Dean. She opened her motel room door, only to be taken aback by the sight of Dean standing there.

He looked vulnerable, his hands fidgeting nervously and his head hung low. Y/N could tell that he had been crying. She silently ushered him into her room.

They sat on the couch in silence for a few heartbeats before Y/N began to speak. But before she could get a word out, Dean cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, his body wracked with sobs.

Y/N offered Dean the comfort he needed, setting aside her own feelings for now, holding him close and murmuring soothing words until his breathing slowly returned to normal. She tenderly kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears.

"Goodnight, Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. No matter what horrors they had to face, he could always find solace in his big sister.

As the quiet of the night deepened, Y/N found herself unable to leave the couch. Dean's head rested heavily on her lap, his steady breathing a testament to the exhaustion that had finally claimed him. His slumber was a stark contrast to the turmoil they had endured earlier, and Y/N took solace in the peace that sleep had granted him.

Her hand remained on his back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers a reassurance that he was still with her, still alive. The comforting warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her clothes, anchoring her to the present moment. She found an inexplicable comfort in their shared silence, a reprieve from the chaos of their lives.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards the case they had just closed. The faces of the innocent lives lost emerged in her mind, their haunting eyes reflecting the horrors they had been subjected to.

The guilt of not being able to save them all gnawed at her insides. But she knew, as did Dean, that they couldn't save everyone. It was a harsh truth they had learned early in their line of work, yet it hit them anew with each case.

Y/N shook her head, dispelling the morbid thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, on Dean. She allowed herself a soft smile, appreciating the rare moment of tranquility they were granted. Despite the horrors they faced, these quiet moments, where it was just them, were the ones she treasured the most.

As sleep began to creep up on her, Y/N adjusted her position carefully, ensuring not to disturb Dean. She let her eyes close, the comforting rhythm of Dean's breathing lulling her into sleep. With the weight of the day finally catching up to them, they found solace in each other's company, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

thank you for reading !

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #winchester reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #winchester!reader #y/n winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x older sister reader #dean winchester x platonic reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester

[heartsforsserafim]

Hii it's 🐔 anon back author-nim~

Woop woop~

Soft dom gp Siyeon. Siyeon working on her laptop. (Idk what it is about CEO Siyeon). You get back home and straight away go to her after a stressful day. Soft sex after hearing bad stuff from the people around you. You didn't need to say anything, she knew. She helps you remove your panties and sit on her cock. You don't ride her completely, just snuggling your face into the crook of her neck as your hips moves back and forth. One of her hand typing on her desktop while the other on the back of your head. She kisses the top of your head from time to time. Saying and reassuring you with her words.

And hope your doing well darling 😍😋

Rough Day?

pairing ; g!p siyeon x fem!reader

genre ; 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/smut

cw ; cockwarming,soft sex,unprotected sex,creampie

an ; and yes i am doing very well, ty for asking<3

Today was horrible for you, everyone at work was pressuring you with files and your boss was on your back about emailing his papers to him. Today was overall overwhelming for you, on your way home traffic was so bad. You just couldn't deal with it, and had a breakdown in the car. Everything was going terrible today. You just wanted to see siyeon again

After you made it home, you just put your bags down, and took off your shoes going straight to the older office since that's where she'd be. You walked to her and once she saw your face. She knew how your day was, she unbuckled her belt, and took her cock out of her boxers.

You lifted your skirt a bit, she moved your underwear over to the side, and you sat on her cock. Your face goes into the crook of her neck. Neither of you moved, her eyes focused on her screen as she continued to type. Her hand moving behind your head, softly playing in your hair.

Your hips rocking slowly on her cock, "You'll be okay sweetie, you're home now" she says and kisses your forehead. you didn't reply back, you just smiled against her chest, taking in her vanilla scent with a mix of her favorite perfume. "You smell nice baby" you say, your hips speeding up a bit, "you do too darling"

Hearing her say that made you feel heat in your stomach, forgetting about everything that happened earlier. You looked up at her, shared a soft kiss, your forehead touching hers, you both smiled "I love you Y/n" "I love you too siyeon" you say, and began bouncing on her cock, just enough so you both get pleasure.

She placed her hands onto your waist, slowing you down, "Babe we have all night, let's take it slow" you nod and put your head back into the crook of her neck. Her being content with the current position, she placed both her hands on your waist, slightly hugging you. "You're so beautiful baby" she spoke.

Her loving words made your heart fill with so many emotions, before you could reply her cock twitched inside of you. Making your mind switch from the cuteness of this situation to wanting to make siyeon feel good.

You sat up, her cock inside of your cunt still and you began bouncing once more this time you're faster, "B-babe come on c-calm down we have all n-night" you could hear in siyeon's voice she was already close and due to your pent up stress you needed a release too, "L-let me do this- ah f-fuck" you say and began rubbing your clit.

Your orgasm came, your cunt tightening around siyeon's length. Your legs shook as your eyes rolled back, you fell on top of the older girl. Hips still rocking slowly, her load filled you up. "S-shit.." siyeon said, you both stayed in the position. You stood up, her seed pooling out of your pussy, "See you filled me up so much" she chuckled before fixing her clothes and yours before picking you up bridal style and walking to the shower.

She washed you up, and washed your hair, using her lavender shampoo in your hair to calm you, before taking you with her and listening to music so you can sleep peacefully tonight in each other's arms.

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #siyeon #🐔anon

[bisexualunicronrunningloose]

Criminal Minds - Resurrection

Reid x fem!reader (previous relationship, broke up sometime after Emily died, takes place during and after season 7 episode 1, so there will be spoilers)

Y/N POV

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilise her. And she was air lifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert ex filtration. Her identity was strictly need to know.” Hotch spoke to the room.

“She’s alive,” Pen asked in shock.

“But we buried her.” Spencer said confused.

“As I said I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues? Yeah I got issues” Morgan said in a mixture of shock and anger.

Just then you saw Emily walk in… alive.

“Oh my….god,” you said under your breath. You looked over at Morgan he looked just if not more shocked than you. He had been there when Emily had been attacked.

“I am so sorry. I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to … Really I. You didn’t deserve that. And I’m so sorry” Emily said.

Everyone was getting up and hugging her. You briefly meet eyes with Spencer and he looked surprised. The only other person besides Hotch that didn’t look surprised was JJ… had she known? Did she help get Emily out and into hiding? You gave Emily a very tight hug.

“I missed you so much” she whispered in your ear.

“I missed you more” you whispered back.

“There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will I promise. But right now I really want to know what’s going on with Declan.” Emily said.

-

Your mind still was reeling from the fact that Emily was alive and with you all again. The last seven months had been an emotional rollercoaster. You had buried one of your own teammates, you had cried for what had felt like days and had to deal with the fact the team downsized. Spencer had begun to pull away about a month afterwards until one day you had enough and confronted him about it.

“Have a good evening at JJ’s?” You asked from where you were sitting on his couch not looking up from the book you had been reading.

“What are you doing here?” He asked closing the door with a thud and kicking off his shoes

“Seriously?” you asked putting a bookmark in the book before closing it and placing it on the coffee table.

“Yeah… it’s late. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you said looking at him, had he really forgotten that the two of you had made plans to stay in tonight and watch something?

“Why?”

“Because we had plans Spencer. This is the third time you’ve bailed on me and each time it’s because you’ve been at JJ’s.” you said getting up from the couch and coming face to face with him.

“We have plans for Wednesday. Anyway JJ has been helping me with dealing with the loss of Emily”

“Today is Wednesday Spencer. I tried calling you but you didn’t pick up your phone. I was worried about you, I didn’t know where you were or if something happened to you, if you were hurt. The only reason how I knew where you were was because JJ called after you left and asked if everything was ok,because she had overheard our plans the other day. Anyway it’s late, I cooked it’s on your counter in some containers if want to heat it up.” You said grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Spencer said grabbing your wrist.

“I’m going home. Like I said it’s late, I’ll see you at work in the morning”

“Please stay. I.. I’m sorry I got the days mixed up. Just please stay the night y/n, you can borrow my old shirt from MIT. We could still watch something or I could read to you. Just please stay.” He spoke grabbing your elbow and slowing you as you opened the door, you froze he sounded so sad and tired and your heart ached whenever you heard him like that all you wanted to do was turn around and hold him in your arms. You closed the door and turned around and faced him.

“Why don’t you talk to me?” You asked trying not to sound desperate and frustrated.

“Talk to you about what?” He asked he sounded genuinely confused, for a genius he really could be an idiot at times.

“About Emily, about how her loss has affected you. I’m right here, why do you go to JJ and not me” you say with tears in your eyes. You had stood there waiting for his answer for what felt like an eternity…

He never answered your question he had just stood there looking at you as you shook your head and left his apartment saying you’d see him in the morning in a defeated tone. A week later Spencer had broken up with you, he hadn’t given you a proper excuse. All he had said was that it wasn’t working anymore and that you just didn’t understand his friendship with JJ. It had been awkward at first for you, but for Spencer, it was as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you he completely ignored your existence unless you were paired together on a case, which didn’t happen often as you would work with Rossi most of the time. But when the team downsized this was harder to do. You spent most of your time out of the office with Penelope who had taken in Emily’s cat.

“Y/N? You ok?” Garcia asked pulling you from your thoughts.

“Why wouldn’t I be Pen? Emily is alive” you said

“You’ve been staring at that paper for ages,” she said pointing to the document in front of you a list of names Doyle had given Emily. A list of names of people who Declan’s mum, Chole and McDermott might give Declan to for money. The next question was where would McDermott and Chole escape and how. You hoped Emily would be able to get the information out of Doyle.

“Right, I think I’m going to get a coffee to try and wake up a bit.” You said shaking your head and yawning “maybe the caffeine will help”. You entered the small kitchenette and saw Spencer pouring himself a mug of coffee. Even though it had been months since he had broken up with you your heart still leapt out of your chest whenever you saw him.

“There enough for one more cup?” You asked slowly walking over and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“Uhh… yeah here,” he said handing you the pot.

“Thanks,” you said taking it from him.

“So…” he started

“Did you know?” You asked putting the coffee pot down after filling up your mug.

“That Emily was alive? No” he interrupted

“No.. not that. Your face when she walked it made it pretty obvious that you didn’t. No I was wondering if you knew Morgan never stopped looking for Doyle and Declan” you asked opening the fridge to get some milk.

“Ohh… that. No I had no idea” he said handing you some caramel syrup that you always put in your coffee.

“How.. how have you been?” He asked nervously

“Don’t act like you suddenly care Spencer. It’s hurtful. And you are many things and hurtful is not one of them.” You reply putting the caramel syrup back.

“I do care,” he said

“Right, well you have a funny way of showing it.” You spoke a little harsher than you had intended but with the stress of the case, you didn’t care. Just then Emily came in.

“We have a lead.” Emily said.

“You’ve found where Chole is headed?” Reid asked.

“Possibly but we need to move fast. Meet down in the garage as soon as you can we are going to the airfield” Emily said leaving the two of you alone again.

Nodding your head you put your coffee mug down and began heading out of the kitchenette. Spencer grabbed your elbow.

“What!?” You snapped

“Can we talk?”

“Now? Are you serious? A kid is missing and there are at least two murderers on the run. And you think now is a good time to talk?” You speak just above a whisper

“I meant after… after we save Declan and catch Chole and McDermott. Can we talk then?” He said staring into your eyes.

“Fine. But you’re buying the coffee” you said.

“Deal,” he said letting go of your arm.

REID POV

They had just left the meeting in front of the Senate Committee to answer questions about Doyle and everyone was heading home. He was standing at the bottom of the steps outside of the building waiting for her. She was talking to Penelope about something, the light breeze causing the skirt of her dress to dance in the wind a little. He was watching her laugh at something, he missed being the one to make her laugh. He missed their late-night talks about shows, movies and books. He missed everything about her.

“Why did you break up with her Reid?” Emily said coming from his side.

“Huh?” He shook his head turning to face her.

“Y/n. I asked her what was going on between the two of you after Doyle. She said that you guys had broken up. I asked her why and she said to ask you because you were the one to end it.”

“Oh. She told you that?” He said looking back up at her and Penelope.

“Yeah, Reid look the two of you… you’re perfect together. I’ve never seen two people be a better fit, you complete each other. I just don’t understand what happened” Emily said.

“You died Em. And then she almost got shot on a case a month afterwards. Everything got too real.” Reid said

“And you broke up with her because… you didn’t want to get hurt” Emily

“Yeah.. something like that. I’ve been trying to figure out for months how to talk to her. And with you coming back. I figured now or never because…”

“It’s better to try than ponder what could have been. And what better excuse to use than the fact that someone coming back from the dead?” Emily finished for him

“Yeah.. we’re going for coffee. I just hope she will hear me out” Reid said as he saw y/n and Penelope say their goodbyes.

“I’ll leave you to it, Reid. Just… be gentle with her when explaining ok. And let her take her time digesting what you tell her.” Emily said as she left. I’ll wait for as long as I have to. She is worth waiting for. He thought to himself as she walked down the steps to meet with him.

“So.. you still good for that coffee and talk?” He asked

“Yeah. I stick to plans that I make. Unless something else comes up then I let the person know ahead of time” she replied. He knew exactly what she was referring to, he had missed three of their dates because he had gone to JJ’s because he was missing Emily and he didn’t know what to do. Thinking back he had not been that great of a boyfriend that last month.

“So which coffee shop did you want to got to then? There’s that nice one around the corner”

“The one with the book store attached to it?” She asked.

“Yeah… or we could go somewhere else if you want,” he said, knowing that had been one of their favourite places to go together when they had a day off.

“No… it’s ok. It’s been a while since I’ve been there” she smiled

With that, they headed over to the coffee shop. Once they got there y/n went to find them a table while he went and got their order. He found her sitting at one of the corner tables waiting for him. He took the seat across from her and handed her a mug and a pastry he had gotten for her.

“Thanks,” she said

“I wasn’t sure if you were hungry after all that questioning.” Reid said

“Like I could say no to a pain au chocolate” she smiled, it wasn’t the same one she used to give him but it was a start. “So you wanted to talk.” She said taking a sip of her drink.

“I owe you an apology and a better explanation,” Reid said. She placed her mug down and looked him in the eyes.

“Go on,” she said

“The explanation I gave you then… it was a shitty one.” He said

“That’s for sure. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t be honest with me if you weren’t happy with the relationship anymore or with me” she said looking down

“That’s … that’s not why. How could you even think that? Of course, I was happy.” He said slowly reaching for her hand and taking it in his. She pulled her hand away.

“Then why break up with me. Why leave me to deal with the grief of losing Em alone. You broke my heart. I … thought you loved me… I thought we would be together forever, Spencer.” She said

“I did it because I love you.” Spencer said

“Clearly not enough to tell me the truth. That month between Em and you breaking up with me, it felt like your were spending more time with JJ than with me. And before you say anything, I know how close the two of you are and that she is one of your closest friends. But Spencer I was your girlfriend, I thought you would at least talk to me or say that you needed to speak with other people to get through whatever it was that you were going through. But I guess I thought more of what our relationship meant than you did.” she said wiping a tear from her eye

“That’s not fair or true” Spencer replied

“Then enlighten me Spencer. Give me a real reason why you ended things. Or why only now are you wanting to talk to me. Because for months you’ve been acting like nothing ever happened between us or that I even exist.”

“I…” Spencer looked down at his mug of coffee.

“Look you’re the one that wanted to talk. So talk because if you are just going to waste my time then I’m going to leave.” She said. A few moments passed, and he heard her sigh and push her chair back to leave.

“It was easier for me… to ignore you and not acknowledge you. Because… I didn’t think I could handle being so close to you and not being with you.” Spencer said finally looking back up. She sat back down and moved the chair back to the small table. She took another sip of her drink and took a bite of her pastry.

“Ok so you ignored me because it was to difficult to be around me. But why break up with me then. Why say it wasn’t working anymore?” She asked

“Because I thought… I thought that would be a good explanation. Just enough for you not to push for more answers and possibly angry enough to not want to talk to me for a while” Spencer said looking at his untouched coffee he took a sip before continuing. “Really it was a selfish excuse. But I felt I couldn’t tell you the real reason because then …” Spencer said his voice cracking.

“Because then what?”

“You would see how weak I was or refuse to listen and stay with me”

“Spencer you are not weak.” She replied taking another bite of her pastry.

“You don’t understand”

“I’m trying to Spencer. But you are not making sense, you still haven’t actually explained why”

“I’m trying too… I just don’t know how to explain it without sounding like an idiot” He said. He saw how she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before returning her gaze to him, she was getting frustrated and was trying her best not to get angry and yell. He had seen her do that countless times on cases.

“Spencer, please I can’t take this anymore, the not knowing why. The questioning of everything I had ever done or said to try and figure out why you would break up with me” She said tears collecting in her eyes.

“I was scared” Reid confessed

“You were scared? Of what” she asked finishing up her drink.

“After Emily, I didn’t want to lose anyone else. It’s just that anyone who is close to me leaves, dies or gets hurt. And when you almost got shot on that case …”

“You broke up with me because you didn’t want to see me get hurt. But Spencer getting hurt is an occupational hazard with our job. You know that better than most of us”

“I know it’s not entirely rational but I just couldn’t risk loosing you.” He said looking down at his drink. She leaned forward and took his hand in hers and gave it a quick squeeze.

“Love makes us act irrationally” she smiled.

He squeezed her hand back and looked at her as she wiped the tears out of her eyes. Before she looked at her watch and frowned.

“What is it? Do you have somewhere else to be?” He asked nervously not wanting to say goodbye to her just yet when they were finally talking about everything.

“No… it’s just I hadn’t realised the time. I was planning on cooking some spaghetti bolognaise tonight and reorganise a few things. But … the reorganising can wait. But if I want to eat dinner at a decent hour I might have to head off soon.” She said looking back at him.

“You’re cooking spaghetti bolognaise tonight?” He said remembering that as one of his favourite meals she used to cook for the two of them.

“Yeah… did you… uh, want to join me? I always make too much. Unless you have other plans?” She asked biting her bottom lip nervously.

“ I would love too… I mean if that’s ok with you” he said.

“I offered Spencer. Why would I offer if I didn’t mean it. Plus this way … we can keep talking and uhh.. I don’t know figure out where we stand now?” She said nervously.

“Yeah” he nodded and they both got up and headed to her apartment

Part two will be posted in a week hopefully (depending how busy I am at work). Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid

[ladybug023]

Marco and Maria WIP With No Context

Warning: nothing graphic. Also i know Marco mostly speaks Spanish but I’m too lazy for subtitles tonight. Maria dumps Marco’s ass. Can you dump someone in a situationship?

Marco's tender gesture was met with an uncharacteristic brush-off from Maria, leaving him momentarily taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. As he watched, she pulled a heavy duffel bag into view, its contents spilling out onto the surface. The sight of stacks of money filling the bag to the brim stirred a mix of curiosity and bewilderment within him.

Confusion played across Marco's features as he pondered the reasons behind Maria dealing so much in such a short amount of time. Her explanation about leaving town with Emilio for a couple of weeks seemed at odds with the reality he knew. "Emilio and I are leaving town for a couple of weeks. This should be more than enough to meet our quota for this week and next week. You can give it to Tuco when you see him later," she explained, her tone casual despite the weight of her words.

"Why?" The question escaped his lips, the confusion evident in his voice.

"Why do you care?" Maria's retort carried a hint of annoyance, her guarded demeanor starting to grate on his nerves. He wasn't entirely certain why he cared, but her abrupt shift in behavior bothered him. He asked himself why was she was being like this? He’d already forgave her for the incident that happened the night before.

Despite his silent annoyance, he pressed on, his tone growing firmer with the second query. “Why?”

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she turned her back on him, the situation escalating with each passing moment. Marco's hand shot out, grabbing her elbow and tugging her back around to face him.

“Why?” The tension in the room was palpable as he demanded an answer, his voice had taken on a growling edge.

His grip on her elbow was fleeting as Maria yanked herself free, her frustration equally evident. The verbal exchange between them intensified as Marco continued to question her motives.

"It's a business trip, okay! Jesus fucking Christ!" she finally snapped, the expletive punctuating her frustration.

"Stop," Marco's voice cut through the tension, commanding silence. He wasn't used to being in situations like this, where emotions flared and he had to navigate through the complexities of human interaction.

"Stop what?!" Maria's retort was sharp, filled with defiance.

"Enough," Marco's response was curt, his tone leaving no room for further argument.

"No! I am not your little whore you can boss around, Marco!" Maria's words were charged, her anger taking center stage.

Silence descended between them, heavy and charged, until Maria let out a tired sigh, her tone shifting. "This isn't good anymore..."

Marco's expression remained a mix of stoicism and confusion as he attempted to process her words. Her declaration that whatever existed between them wasn't good for business hit him with a weight he didn't expect. She moved to sit on the couch, a blunt in her hand as she continued to speak.

"Why?" he finally managed to ask, his voice softer this time.

"Why? Because you and your brother humiliated me, you fucked with my reputation, that's why," Maria glowered at him, her frustration palpable. "Do you know how hard I worked for my reputation? Do you know how hard it is as a woman to earn a decent reputation in this business?"Of course he doesn’t. He could never in a million years understand. Marco was born with the privilege of having his last name be Salamanca.

“Now, people call me your dumb little whore.” She grumbled, resentfully.

"Who?" Marco's voice held a dangerous edge as he inquired, his protectiveness flaring. But Maria seemed unfazed by his concern.

"Two men who are currently in the ICU sucking food down through a straw. I can take care of myself," Maria stated matter-of-factly, her exhale carrying with it a sense of indifference.

Marco felt some guilt and shame creep into him. His sweet Maria looked so angry and hurt. He didn’t want her to feel those things. A good, humble man would have apologized but Marco was anything but a good man, and that machismo pride that was beaten into him since he childhood kept him from saying sorry.

"You don't want company?"It was the most words Marco has said in awhile, an attempt to linger and mend the strained atmosphere.

"Not your company, Marco," Maria's response was curt, tone definite, and her words cut deeper than Marco’s axe.

He grudgingly picked up the duffel bag, his mind warring between his usual cold detachment, and the unfamiliar pang of losing her. With a final glance, he left her house, she’d call him again and things would go back to as they were before Saturday night. He ignored the daunting, alien fear that she wouldn’t, and he would lose her. She was never really his to begin with but the idea of Maria hating him and not getting to hold her again unnerved the cold hearted assassin.

#marco salamanca #maria koyama #my ocs #leonel salamanca #emilio koyama #lalo salamanca #tuco salamanca #domingo molina #better call saul

[lucysweatslove]

Okay but seriously I am freaking out a little now about having to go do The Things / starting in my rural community.

I’m only an hour (okay like 50 min) away from my family, but being apart from them for two weeks is… unsettling. I’m already anticipating missing Oreo and Husband. Oreo is technically my emotional support animal and having him is AMAZING for the support and comfort he gives, especially when I’m overstimulated and he snuggles in and helps me regulate. Not only will I be in a new stressful situation, wearing clothes I don’t feel good in, with my whole body going in breakout mode, but I’ll “come home” to a foreign house and with two people I’ve never met before. I feel the overstimulation and burnout already.

I packed clothes tonight but will likely (haphazardly) shove more clothes “just in case” into another bag tomorrow before I depart. I need to pack toiletries and my makeup and food and my laptop and decide what purses to take (the one I use rn is very casual) and just. Yeah.

And the food situation, I know nothing about what is available cookware wise or fridge and freezer space wise. My plan right now is just to bring some of my foods and get a lay of the land… I can always go to the grocery store if I need or drive back home- it’s a two hour round trip so it’s not the end of the world if I need to go back for something.

And I left some drink mix packets (empty) on the counter today and my husband was like “remember for the next two weeks you can’t do this, you’ll have roommates you’ll need to be respectful of and you’ll have to pick after yourself” and i felt even worse after that. Because the subtext there is that I can somehow control it, like I’m just choosing to not throw trash away, but I get distracted and forget, and I don’t know how to deal with that with two people I’ve literally never met before in my life and. Yeah. How do I broach subjects? Do I tell them “btw I’m autistic and adhd so don’t read into anything you find weird and I may forget to throw something away here or there but I promise I’m trying?” Ugh.

I know a lot of this is just normal nerves before starting a Big New Thing but also neurodivergence complicates it all. Idk.

#personal

[jenyifer]

If you want to skip the rambling skip to the see more for a treat of the first 3 paragraphs of part 2 of my Boston Ray fic

I have good news I’ve got the rough draft of the remaining 3 done. Bad news I need to rewatch only friends to make sure I have Ray in character. I worry because I jokingly say Oh yeah Ray is me. I get addicted to things easily. I lost someone important to me as a teen. I love music. I often am indecisive and can get angry say shit I don’t mean. I have the same 🪄zest for life. So I worry Ray not enough like actual Ray. Maybe I’m just projecting. I do write a lot of Boston. So… let’s…. Rewatch only friends and not watch the BostonNick bits…..

Only watch the Ray bits Jenny for the love of J-Hope and Off Jumpol

No I can’t help it look at them

Okay okay I’ll give you a little preview of part 2 so that I will have motivation to finish it quickly and not obsessively post about BostonNick. Although I might post about SandRay because i never did that while it was airing. Okay here’s the first paragraphs of part 2 of my BostonRay fic I’ll edit them down but whatever. You get a little taste 🙌🏻🙌🏻

Eight-year-old Boston found himself fixated on his flip phone, desperately waiting for a call that he knew deep down was unlikely to come. His mother had left him in the care of his father, choosing to travel instead because she claimed she "couldn't bear to stay here any longer." The absence of his mother weighed heavily on Boston's heart, prompting him to seek solace in her green room at the back of the house. Surrounded by the plants she used to photograph and take notes on, he had hoped to ask her about them, yearning for just a little more of her attention and affection. However, as the sixth consecutive day passed without a single call, Boston felt tears of disappointment threatening to escape his eyes. He couldn't help but feel weak, just as his father and Ter would often accuse him of being. They dismissed his emotions as childish, labelling him as someone who clung onto memories. Overwhelmed by a mix of frustration and sadness, Boston let out a yell and impulsively kicked over a large snake plant. In that moment, he didn't care that the shattered pot left his hands cut and bleeding, as he desperately tried to release his pent-up emotions.

Ter's exasperation quickly transformed into concern as he picked up the squirming child, his hands covered in blood. "Kid, I've told you countless times that there are punching bags for a reason. You have school, you know," Despite the frustration evident in his voice, Ter carefully carried Boston to the bathroom to tend to his wounds. As he bandaged the little boy's hands, he couldn't help but notice the blank expression that washed over Boston's face, a sign of the emotional turmoil he was experiencing. Over the years, Ter had developed a deep attachment to Boston, despite the teasing from others who referred to him as a nanny. In Ter's eyes, he saw himself more as a brother figure to the privileged child. With a gentle ruffle of Boston's hair, Ter tried to lighten the mood. "Today, I'll be in charge of you. What would you like to do after school? If your hands weren't hurt, I was thinking of taking you to a batting cage again."

Boston's immediate desire was clear - he longed for his mother. However, understanding that he couldn't fulfill that wish, he looked for a substitute to ease his loneliness. "I want to make a pillow fort with Ray," Boston declared, knowing that his friend could provide some comfort. He turned to Ter, his eyes fluttering and a hesitant smile forming on his face. "Ask Mae if he can stay over tonight, please?" Boston remembered how Ray had a way of charming others, and he hoped that Ter could make it happen. He yearned for the warmth and companionship that Ray's presence would bring, even if it couldn't completely fill the void left by his mother's absence.

#ofts #ofts Boston #ofts ray #bostonray #rayboston #bostonick #why is Boston nick so irresistible to me #ofts fic #Jenny’s rambling

[moonlit-trolls]

Wounded + Tohuro mayhaps?

[Ok so i kinda mixed these two cuz it just sort of felt right! so this one is a bit longer than the others because i used 2 prompts]

[Docs for your sake]

I Stood there. staring at what had happened and how I had gotten myself in the situation of seeing death in the eyes of a priest. With so much blood on my own pooling the floor I could barely stand or breathe with how much it was in my throat. and i could not swallow

It began on a warm night. The air was thick enough to grasp. but work had to be done for the fight of my life, it was to happen tonight, and I could not allow myself the luxury of simply staying in bed for more than the four hours I allotted to resting time. The memories of the barely workable streets flooded back as you wandered through the foggy sidewalks. mismatched tiles of concrete made the steps to which I had so many memories. the time i hit my head on a post while saying hello to a pretty yellowblood, or, the hours i spent in the coffee shop… That sadly seems to have had a murder occur inside. At least the book shop remained open. And I could head in. and buy the books once unattainable to me due to poorer conditions.

I wish to be with my past more than I do now. decided in stupidity to head inside. Perhaps if I had not my future would not be as it descended into. but Nevertheless the past cannot be dwelled on for longer than the present. or the future. and my recounting of this remains as it should be. I entered the Book Store, much to my dismay my size made it harder than it should be to get through the door. but i managed either way. when inside i bought what i had and i left without many words. It was nice though. feeling like i was just a normal indigoblood, not a freak of nature that i was. But, I did, with a shake of the hand, and leaving her with blood money from the many fights you had last week.

As I left and got the books ready inside my bag of things. I stared down at my bruised and battered forearms. As I kept wandering through the streets built in sweat and blood of those like me, So low in the food chain they are not even counted. It wounded my pride to think of those things, that perhaps I am meant to be treated as I am, But I know I am not, and I remain strong, as I walked those streets, the hives so connected and so tall, had made me feel small in comparison.

But now we arrive where my tale began, as i wandered the foggy streets i heard the voice of a preacher.

— For love and life on this planet is unforgiving. I am allowing you to ascend into somewhere better, For I am speaking of a place of love. and it might have hurt when it happened, but i did for a good cause! — 

I to this day hate the moons. On that spectral summer night when the moon shone down on that preacher, the bed of flowers, tainted by the blood of trolls, I called my friends. upon them the hateful moon shone, as the blood rippled with the emotion that the bodies felt when they were killed. I knew these tattoos, I knew these men. I knew their loved ones and I loved them because they were close to me. And it broke me down. it destroyed my emotions, as that preacher looked at me and shouted

— For Another sinner has walked into the scene, For i will bring him closer to you lord, For he deserves the freedom he had not in life —

And i froze. My blood became ice as that monster, for man he was no longer, walked towards me, with the gun in his hand and knife in the other. It was about six feet away when he lunged at me, sinking that knife deep into my shoulder as I howled in pain . The powder ignited right after into my chest and I felt my blood pooling in my throat as he jumped away using me as leverage. The bag fell to the floor as I stood in a defiant stance. as my blood dripped from the open wounds. as it flooded the uneven floor drenching the plants. He comes from his right, I parry with my left but it wasn’t fast enough. He gets me in the leg. behind the knee, I felt the weakness and I fell. I had never seen so much of my own blood before.

But I could not die there. I could not allow myself to simply become meat to grind for a man with problems derived from his own religion. But I couldn't stand up. Not with a busted leg. But nonetheless I tried, I forced my legs to work against their will. and they forced me back to the ground as the purple blood striked my nose with his knee and my vision went black for a second. 

But that gave me time. The ground is where my blood pooled, I saw his foot was uneven during the kick before I saw black. I grasped and I held onto something. and that was it. As I pulled his leg I felt the thud of his back hitting the floor while a knife attempted to slash at my forearms. The feeling was dull and numb as my vision came back. I knew what to do. My left arm grabbed onto the hand holding a knife for the other one was not a threat. No more bullets, four bodies, and two shots into my chest. I knew he was out. 

I dwelled not long as I sunk my teeth into his forearm, Rendering it useless I could stare into his face filled with fear. All went blank as bloodthirst took over… I hate to this day the shark instincts I inherited from my ancestry. but were not for it i would be a deader man. When I came to my senses I saw it. I saw the thing I wish I was most glad I was not bloodthirsty when I did. The young troll tied behind the place where this man was speaking. and I limped towards them. as the commotion caused people to group up… They were better than worse. Some thanked me, but I passed out before getting to the child…

Waking up a few hours later inside a hive with that troll helping the book store woman to patch me up. 

#Cw blood #cw description of violence #cw death #tohuro

[faghubby]

PLAYING A DANGEROUS GAME PART 2

Tori was getting dressed I watched as she applied her makeup, she wore a red lace thong with a matching bra that lifted her breast. She also had on a garter and matching stockings. She had bought it special for tonight.

"Now I don't want you playing with yourself" Tori told me. "Also I don't know when I will be home, I will let you know so no need to call or text" she slipped on a little black dress. It hugged her curves and barely covered her perfect ass. She put several condoms in her purse. Then slid on her 3 inch heels. She placed a bag on the bed from the closet.

"This is for you" She kissed me on the cheek and left. She was off to meet John for drinks and maybe sex. We had discussed this alot in the last few weeks. I had assured her that I was ok with it a hundred times.

I opened the bag. Inside was a matching bra and panty set to the one she was wearing except in pink. Along with the stockings and garter.

I put it all on. I had never worn stockings they felt amazing. In the bottom of the bag I found a box. On the box it read

IF YOUR FEELING ADVENTUROUS

In the box I found a butt plug and lube. It didn't seem very big and I was very horny. The front of my panties was already wet. I applied lube to my hole and to the plug. It felt alot bigger as I pushed it into my ass. Tori had only been gone 20 minutes and as the plug finally slipped all the way in. I came in my panties. I felt totally ashamed my wife was out fucking my friend and I was dressed in lingerie and had cum by shoving a cock in my ass. I spent the next two hours searching the internet. Reading all about cuckold and sissies, was I gay? The more I looked the more I didn't know.

I kept the plug in and still wore the dirty panties. When I got a text from John.

/finished sent her back/ with a pic of Tori naked with cum on her tits and her pussy looked red and swollen. Tori walked I the door 10 minutes later. I meet her in the hall. She laughed out loud when she noticed the dry cum that discolored my panties. She dropped her dress she was naked underneath. She smacked my butt and I moaned as she pushed the plug in. Again she laughed

"I am going to shower" She told me. She paused looking for my reaction.

"I had thought about letting you have me first but am too sore" She added. I waited till the shower started then bought her in her robe.

"Tori?, I was um" I started

"I know you have alot to discuss, Paul. Can it wait till the morning?" She asked popping her head out of the shower.

"Of course" I responded. As Tori got out I dried her and helped her with her robe. She laid on the bed and I rubbed lotion all over her as she drifted off to sleep.

I couldn't sleep and went downstairs to watch TV. I fell asleep still dressed with the plug in my ass. I woke early and showered removed the plug and got dressed. When I went to get underwear I found Tori had replaced it all with panties. I put on a pink bikini cut with little flowers on them and a delicate lace trim something a woman may wear everyday I thought. Is that how Tori now saw me as a woman. I had picked them I thought did I want to be a woman. With mixed emotions and thinking Tori didn't need me anymore. I went to make her breakfast. I would make her see that she needed me.

I bought her a simple breakfast in bed, and crawled between her legs and started to eat her. She roused and moaned. She sat up and waited for me to adjust as she ate her breakfast I ate her.

"Baby, you love eating my cheating pussy don't you?" Tori teased her foot slid under me and rubbed my hard cock through my shorts.

"Which pretty panties are you wearing?" She laughed. I never lifted my head.

"You like your new panties?" She asked I licked her asshole to tell her I did.

"You cam in your panties last night. After I told you not to" Tori stated pulling my head up.

"I didn't mean too, It was the plug" I said in barely a whisper. Totally ashamed I couldn't even look up.

"I see" She giggled. She let go of my hair and I went back to pleasing her.

"John last night really did a good job of fucking me. I came so many times I lost count" She told me. "I want to see him again" She added. She lifted my head again.

"Yes, see him again" I told her.

"What do you want from me? I love you and want to make you happy" She said rubbing my cheek. I tried to just go back to pleasing her. But she pulled me up towards her. I laid next to her.

She pulled down my shorts and rubbed my panties before pulling out my hard cock she sucked it right down her throat. She pulled off to remove a pubic hair from her mouth then went back to sucking my cock. I came quickly. She sat up and showed me my cum in her mouth then leaned forward as to kiss me. I kissed her deeply as she fed me my cum. She said nothing just got up to use the bathroom. Then she got dressed. I got up and decided to shower. In the shower I thought about how she had gotten a hair I her mouth. And how my hair stuck out of my panties and I shaved my pubic hair.

"What is taking so long" Tori asked as she walked into the bathroom.

"Oh I see, are you going to shave your legs too?" She cooed. Then left me. I spent the next hour shaving off all my body hair. Having to wait for more hot water twice. The more I did the more it excited me. When I finished I rubbed Tori's lotion all over my body. I picked the series panties from my drawer I had a matching bra so I put that on as well. I stood in a lace pink thong with a matching bra. I was about to put on some basketball shorts when Tori walked in.

"Nooo, not those ugly shorts" She told me. Instead she went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of her shorts. She ran her hands across my smooth ass.

"Wear these instead. The shorts where white I had always admired her ass when she wore them. They where short and cupped her ass,

She held them for me as I stepped into them.

"You want make you my sissyboi. Don't you?" She didn't have me answer instead she got me one of her spaghetti strap tee shirts. It was also white. I realized you could see the pink bra and panties through the white outfit. She sat me at her makeup table.

"You look so hot" she told me. She brushed my hair.

"If I had a dick I would fuck you right now" She told me

"Would you like that? A big cock like John's fucking you? She askdd

I didn't answer instead she stopped and went to her nightstand and pulled out a new butt plug. It was larger then the one last night.

"Do you want this?" She cooed. I just lowered my head.

"Open your mouth" She said and pushed it into my mouth.

"Real men want their cocks sucked too" She told me. Pulling me to my feet. She bent me over the bed and spread my legs. She once again walked away.

"Pull down your cute shorts and panties" She told me. I did and she applied lube to my hole working her finger in and out. Taking the plug from my mouth she lubed it as well and pushed into my ass.

"Pull up your panties" as I did Tori noticed my dick was leaking.

"We cant have you walking around in wet panties" She went into the bathroom and returned with a pantyliner. "Since you like thongs I will have to get you some just for thongs" She told me putting in my panties. And pulling up my shorts. She rubbed the front of the shorts

"Look not even a bulge from your little dick" She giggled. She had never called it small before but compared to John I couldn't argue.

She took several pics of me with her phone.

"How are you felling?" She asked.

"Very femine" I told her.

"Is that good?" She asked. I nodded

"Its very exciting" I told her.

"Would you like me to make love to you like a woman?" She asked

"I did that in college to my roommate, did I ever tell you? About my lesbian roommate? I am going to buy a big cock to fuck you with"

"You are my new lesbian wife" she told me. "Are you still going to mow the lawn today?" She giggled. I looked at her in horror.

"No, why don't you go wash the windows instead" She told me. As I washed the windows Tori mowed the grass in bikini so all real men could admire her she told me.

That night over dinner

"I am going to start fucking John on a regular bases. He is my lover now. Don't worry I have use for a female lover as well. You can dress how you like but I want you to always wear panties." She told me.

Tori saw John once sometimes twice a week, I kept doing the household chores in a strange way showing her my worth to her. I stayed smooth of any body hair and wore not only panties but often borrowing her clothes. One night she came home from being with John.

"Would you like to eat John's cum out of me?" She asked out of the blue. She didn't wait for me to answer instead just spread her legs and allowed me to. It was thicker and much stronger tasting then my own. When I finished. She just went to the bathroom. When she emerged from the bathroom she only wore a strapon cock. It looked huge. About 8 inches long and thick.

"I always suck John's cock first" She told me offering her cock to me. I leaned over and took her cock in my mouth.

"Yeah baby suck my big cock you faggot" She told me. She pulled my hair making me take more. She gagged me over and over. Finally she let me go and I fell back.

"Up on all fours bitch" She told me. I did she pulled my panties off and lubed my ass.

"Those plugs you like so much have made your hole so ready for this. She applied lube to her cock. She worked the tip in slow. But with in a few minutes she was driving her cock balls deep in and out.

"You like my new cock, baby?" She asked I just moaned as I came all over the bed.

"Is that what you wanted baby? Do you like big cock?" Tori laughed.

Tori continued to see John, I spent many nights cleaning his cum from her. A few times a month Tori would peg me until I collapsed.

She teased me constantly, about being her sissy boi. She also would take me shopping for new panties or sometimes a dress. Making me try everything on before buying it. John also was not one to keep a secret. Telling mutual friends about fucking Tori. Or that I wore panties. It even made I back to my mother that I was a sissy bitch. Tori would just laugh about it.

"No one is lying are they?" She asked me.

"No" I answered. The very next day, she dressed me in skinny jeans and a belly shirt and took me to a gay bar. We met up with a man she knew Tom. When he got up to use the rest room Tori turned to me

"I want to watch you suck his cock" She told me. I looked at her in horror. But when Tom returned he quickly took control. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his thigh. I felt his cock growing. When I didn't remove my hand he kissed me. A few minutes later he led me out the door. Tori paid the bill and followed. He had me sit in the back seat of the car with him as Tori drove. Tom pulled out his cock and forced my head down. I was soon sucking his cock like I sucked Tori's toy. It was not as big as her toy. But the taste and smell was erotic.

I had not even realized, that we had stopped moving. Before Tom suddenly stiffened and filled my mouth with his cum. I swallowed it as fast as I could. I looked up and Tori had been watching. Embarrassed I could not look at her. I realized we where at a motel. Tori handed Tom a room key.

"Paul, it's time you took a real cock" She told me. Tom took my hand and helped me out of the car. He wrapped his arm around me and led me to the room. Tom quickly undressed. Just them Tori entered the room with two other men. One was a mountain of a man. Reminded me of a football player the other short average built black man. The black man kissed me and started to undress me. I was soon naked wearing only my cage. The black man named Alec bent me over the desk in the room. He didn't wait just worked his cock in to my ass with nothing more then a little spit. I looked over to see Tori riding the large man cowgirl style. Alec whispered in my ear.

"You want to try that?" He pulled out and laid on the other bed, I knew what was expected and climbed on top of him and rod his big thick black cock. Alex fucked me with a steady rhythm till he filled with my ass with his sperm. Alec pulled me down to clean his cock. As he does Tom waste no time on pushing his cock into my used hole. I turned and looked over to see Tori watching as the monster of a man. Spooned her. Tom didn't stop until until he added his cum to Alec's in my ass. Tom, Alec and the large man all got dressed and left. Tori presented her cum filled pussy for me to clean.

"Well now your a faggot. I don't have to ask if you liked it" Tori told me.

[seafoamchild]

i can hear the crickets tonight. the air has cooled off a bit, finally. it's been so hot lately and we don't have air conditioning. i haven't spent that much time in the great outdoors this summer. and that is okay, because in previous summers i've been outside a lot and done a bunch of hiking. this summer i've just been working and going to shows and seeing friends and partying.

yesterday i went to another street festival in riverwest and it was so... riverwest. misfits, punk bands, tattoos, people with no shoes, reptiles, people with mismatched shoes on. i found a fabulous skin tight dress with a slit up the side and it was sparkly blue like the rainbow fish. i tried it on and it looked so good on me that a random lady came up to take a picture.

then i wore the dress out later that night to the wine bar where one glass of wine turned into three and then we went to the tiki bar which is always a terrible idea. as soon as we got there i saw so many men staring at me in my dress. i was drinking a lot and people kept buying me shots. this happens every time i go to that goddamn place. this one older dude (who was honestly kind of hot) was very into me and being very frank about wanting to have sex with me. drunk me of course loved the attention. i love to be a tease because it makes me feel powerful in that moment, i guess. i love flirting and making men want me and then disappearing. you can want me but you can't have me. it feels almost like playing a character. i see these men eyeing me up and thinking about sex. but they don't know anything about me. they don't know how funny i am or that my favorite color is yellow or that i can speak several languages or that i've traveled all around the world. and they don't get to know.

i was thinking about how much my relationship with luke sucked. he was so unkind to me. and i really think he resented me for being well-liked and fun to be around. he could not handle having a girlfriend who was funnier and far more magnetic than he could ever be. i truly think he was jealous and that he took it out on me by invalidating my feelings whenever i was down. like "oh everything is so easy for you and everyone likes you so you have no reason to be sad". but then he would show understanding to other people who were going through depression. so it was apparently just me who wasn't allowed to be depressed. and THEN after the infamous night at Chill on the Hill when i called him out for making the evening so fucking awkward and weird and it did NOT have to be that weird, he had the audacity to say to me "you don't get to tell me how to feel". bitch what? that boy has the emotional intelligence of a cinderblock. all in all he's a decent dude but fuck him for making me feel like i was too much. he just wasn't enough. not kind enough, not empathetic enough, not funny enough, and certainly not smart enough.

i have my shortcomings too. i think i have been really unnecessarily mean to men, especially since i broke up with luke. just leading them on and then disappearing. like i said, i relish the attention. but it's just so unnecessary to play with people's feelings like that. especially with austin. i really tormented that dude. or elliott. i straight up ghosted him.

and i need to address my issues with drinking and doing drugs. i have really poor impulse control. and i've been so messy. last night i was throwing up into trash bags next to my bed until 3am. it feels normal because a lot of my friends and coworkers are into partying really hard. but i'm starting to not really like how messy i become. i think alcohol is the main problem, actually. i think i can handle myself on drugs but when i mix them with alcohol that's when shit gets to be too much. i've even put off scheduling a therapy appointment because i don't want to talk about this but i know i need to.

#journal

[funnyexel]

Wallet…

Summary: This is a slice of life AMBW story. Returning a wallet is a simple, polite gesture any decent human would do, right?

A/n: So, if anyone has noticed that my Jakob Toretto has magically disappeared. It was my idiot self that deleted it and I do not have a backup. Never wanted to cry so hard in my life but I’ll rewrite it.

*THIS IS PART 5*

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You’ve been looking at him like a lost puppy. Wondering why he’s here. He cups your face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. His eyes were scanning your face, all the while you were staring him down. Pinching your cheeks, he got a giggle out of you. “I’m sorry. Last night I wasn’t thinking straight, my boss said he would spread rumors about you just for his benefit and I didn’t want that to happen so I thought that-” You practically explode, the frustrations from work mixing with the feelings you have about him, causing you to burst into tears. It felt as if everything was starting to catch up to you, overwhelming you making emotions mix up and flow out. His efforts, wasted as new tears run down your cheeks. You smiled as he tried to wipe your tears with the back of his hands then his shirt. Trying to shy away as his toned stomach came into view and your tears began to soak his shirt. “No. No. I don’t wanna mess up your shirt.” You lightly push his hand down, your other hand somehow feeling up his stomach. “Sorry.” You awkwardly laugh and remove your hand. “It’s okay.” He insists, leaning in.

You get trapped in eye contact. “I…” You start your sentence unable to finish. Leaning in as well, you look down to his lips. Mere centimeters away from each other. Maybe you both wondered who would make the first move. Honestly, you weren’t so ballsy but he wasn’t either. ‘Is it too late to back away?’ You wondered. If you did would he get the wrong idea? His lips parted, attempting to say something but they soon closed. Was it not the right time? Your breath hitched. He made the move. Placing his soft lips against yours. You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. It seemed he was afraid to touch you, not wanting to move too fast. You gently caress his cheek, a small smile on your lips. Parting for air, you wipe the remainder of tears. He stands up. Looking up to him, he hugs you. Its warm and soft, how’d he know you wanted a hug? Or maybe he wanted the hug. At this point it didn’t really matter, you rapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder. His hands held your back and your legs, lifting you up bridal style. You hands moving to rest around his neck. You watched as he carried you to the couch and sat beside you. “You sure do like to stare.”

Looking away at his statement, you cover your face. Embarrassment filling your body. “You do too.” Your response muffled. “What am I going to do?” You sigh. “What do you mean?” He pulls down your hands so he can at least see your eyes. “I don’t care. Do you know how many times I’ve been accused of dating?” You put down your hands fully. “And only one will be true.” He pinches your cheek, leaving you smiling at his jester. “So, what now?” He laughs at your question. You playfully pout. The silly moment interrupted by a call. Reaching into your pocket, you look at your phone. “wonderful, the man of the hour.” Answering the call, he immediately speaks. “Come to work.” Your face shows your confusion on the inside. “But its not my shift?” You tell him. “Did I ask you that?” The silence signals for you to answer. “No, sir.” You get up, heading to your room starting the process of packing your bag.

“Alright. That common sense is back. Wear your best tonight. If you even have a best.” At that he hangs up and you throw your phone. Unpacking the bag and bringing out your absolute best outfit you had. You were going to save it for the club or something but it seems like tonight is somewhat significant. Angrily shoving clothes in your duffle bag, he rests a soothing hand on your shoulder and you instantly relax. “Man, sometimes I wish I could quit. You know?” You sniffle, sucking up the tears that are borderline from falling. Picking up your duffle bag from the floor and put it on your bed. Before he could respond, your phone rings from the corner of the room. You groan, seeing how frustrated you are he gets it for you. “Thanks.” You take the phone, looking at the caller id, you smile and answer.

“Hey Ari.” You use one hand to hold the phone to your ear and the other to continue packing. “You’re dancing?” She asks, excitedly. “I’m dancing? Since when?” She hums in distaste. “That little snake. You’re on the roster for tonight.” Your eyebrow quirks. “Oh! I’m not getting paid, so he thinks he can milk it. I could care less what that damn roster says. I’m not dancing. I’ll dance when he decides to pay me like a dancer.” You say sternly. “Wait you’re not getting paid? Why?” You roll your eyes, remembering the call. “I was late to a shift.” You zip up your duffle bag and go to your closet. “That’s it?” You hum to her. “I do way worst stuff.” She chuckles. “Yeah, its because he’s racist. There’s no other explanation…well, that and the fact that I won’t sleep with his old ass.” You laugh at your own joke and Hyeon tries not to laugh. “He gets no bitches.” You say to Hyeon, turning to him and he loses it. “Well are you coming tonight?” You throw sweats and a sweater on your bed. “I might as well. The month is almost over anyway. Shit, I might as well dance too. I’ve been practicing something new.” You exclaim, sinisterly.

“Great! And I’ll do something about you getting paid. It goes against workers rights’ anyway.” You sigh. “Thanks, I appreiciate it.” She huffs at your words. “Its nothing. It doesn’t cost to be a decent human and I can’t wait to see you tonight.” As you lay out your outfit, you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” With that she hangs up. “So you’re going to work?” He asks from the bed. “Most definitely. I wish you could be there but you’re probably busy.” You say sitting next to him. “I could move some things around.” He says, looking at his watch. “No!” His face scrunches in confusion. “I mean, you probably have important things to do, like record and stuff.” You awkwardly smile and pat his chest. “Not more important than you.” Your chest heats up and you laugh his comment off. But he’s totally serious. “Cut that out. You’re getting me distracted. I have to do my hair and stuff.” You pull him off your bed. “I’m not distracting you.” He tries to reason with you.

You shake your head. “Nope, you gotta go.” You push him out your room to your kitchen. “Now you’re kicking me out?” He turns to you. “I feel neglected.” You laugh at him. “You, you’re a very funny man. You’ll live.” You say. “I know for a fact you have things to do.” You tell him and he leans in. “Yeah but-” He smirks. “No buts, do what you gotta do then come by the club.” You interrupt him. “Officially accepting that invitation.” You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You push him out the door and try to close it but he uses his strength to keep it open. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into an embrace. You slither your hands around him and squeeze. Taking a inhale of his scent, you smile. ‘where have you been all my life.’ You sigh. Loosening the hug, his hands rest around your waist. Tilting his head, he kisses you on the cheek and you giggle. Turning your head, you kiss him. Closing your eyes, you melt. Your hands lightly holding his cheeks. He sneaks his tongue past your lips and you squeal.

Your salivas mixing, you try to pull yourself off him by leaning back but he simply leans forward. He’s literally tonguing you down in your doorway. Rocking side to side, you force yourself off him. “Alright, alright.” You take a deep breath and put your hands up. “That’s enough, you’re really distracting me now. I literally have a million things to do.” You back up into your apartment. “Just one more minute.” He puts his finger up. You shake your head and kiss him on the cheek. “Bye, hyeon.” You chuckle and close the door. Wiping your mouth, you shake your head. “Now I’m in an rnb mood.” You grab your towel and go to the bathroom. Quickly, washing your hair, not stressing with a comb and finger detangling it. Jamming as you dry your hair in your towel. Putting on your hair shirt and underwear, you blow dry your hair and cornrow it. Taking small breaks every 4 braids to give your hands a rest. On your last braid, you get your wig stuff from underneath the counter. Finishing the braid, you gel your edges back, putting on the wig cap and stretching it over your eyes. Putting on the freeze spray and drying it, you get the wig from your room.

Quickly using your hair needle and thread, you stitch your wig cap to your hair. Then using a brush to soften the wig. You wore the black wig already so the lace and ear tabs were already cut. Using your powder foundation, you use your makeup brush and hurriedly put it on the lace, making sure to cover everything. Applying four layers of glue on the line where the cap and skin meets you rush the drying process with the blow dryer. Placing the wig on your head, you use the comb to smooth out any clumps and melt the lace into the glue. Separating the baby hairs and fixing up the middle part, you put on your elastic band to finalize the glue process. Using a clip to put all the hair up, you do a few stitches connecting your wig to the cap. “You ain’t going nowhere tonight.” You say, the blood slowly rushing to your head. Tying the knot, you put the hair down and rush to your room to put on your clothes. Checking the time, you’re clearly on schedule. All the while your curling iron is heating up. Cutting the baby hairs, you lay them with mouse and a edge brush. You put on an edge wrap and blow-dry it a little before curling your hair. Pinning up the curls as you go.

Taking off the edge wrap, you do your makeup as per usual. Adding some dramatic lashes, fancy eyeliner and concealer to make your bright eyeshadow pop. Spraying some setting spray, you fan your face and look into the mirror. “I’m about to eat the girls up.” You smile and do a little pose. Putting all the supplies away, you go to your room and put on your slides. Taking your phone off the charger, grabbing your bag, a wide tooth comb and your small can of spray glitter. On your way out the door, you grab your keys. Not forgetting to lock the door. Getting a taxi, you tell them where to go and wait. Taking a picture of you and sending it to the group-chat with your best friends. Looking at some food on the instagram explore page, you remember that you only ate breakfast. At the realization your stomach rumbles. After you pay the taxi, you go to the nearest food stand and order some street food. “I’ll have a three sondae.” You practically drool, looking at the deep fried sausages. You eagerly pay and take the food, saying thank you. Using the back door, you enter the locker room. Sitting at your little table, you chow down on the food.

Drinking some water, you take the sticks, tray and throw it in the trash. “At least I can have a meal in peace.” You say to yourself. Music already blasting. Rubbing your stomach in satisfaction, you do some simple stretches to loosen your muscles. You take your dress out the bag and shoes that match. Taking off your clothes you slip on the dress, it was sparkly, a mix of dark blue and purple and tight, very tight. It hugs your curves and shows your boobs but keeps them secure. Putting on some tight black shorts under the dress, you turn and look at your butt in the mirror. Done checking yourself out, you sit down and take the pins out your hair. Using the comb you brought, you loosen the curls and style it. “30 inch buss down.” You play with the hair and move it effortlessly. Spraying perfume and the sparkles, you put on your heels and fix your lip. Doing your most seductive smile, you get the confidence to go out to the floor. None of the waitresses notice you as you step out the room. It seems he told everyone to wear their best as well. “I wonder what the occasion is.” You look around the club and there’s a few people in but you don’t expect much. It’s only 10 pm.

“Hey sexy.” You jump at the call. “Ari, you startled me.” You smile with your hand over your heart. “Heh, sorry. You look great!” She says dragging you towards the dancers area. “Thanks, you always look good.” Once she brings you backstage, she twirls you around. “What kind of heels are those?” You look down to your shoes. “They’re 5 inch platforms with straps.” You kick up your leg. “Only 5? Its giving baby dancer, y/n.” You playfully roll your eyes at another dancers’ teasing. “Look, I need them to be short tonight. Better safe than sorry.” The chatter gets a little louder. “I like them, they’re cute.” A baby dancer says to you. “Why, thank you.” You smile to her and she gets a bit flushed. “Does anyone know why we’re all supposed to be wearing our best?” A dancer says with air quotes and they laugh. “I was going to ask the same question.” You say. “I think its because of music night.” The baby dancer says. “Music night?” Ari asks. “Yeah, you don’t know about it?” You shake your head. “Please due enlighten us…” You motion for her name.

“Anne.” She says fiddling with her hands. “Anne, what’s music night?” You question and others wait for her answer. “Its..uh…it’s a night when all the upcoming artists come to show off their music to other artists and producers.” Everyone hums to the new information. “I guess their hosting it here.” She says, stooping down to tie her heels. “Whoa, sick. New music.” You rejoice. “Wait don’t tell me I’m not dancing to my slow jam.” You say, leaving and heading for the the DJ booth. Knocking on the door, he opens it for you. “Hey y/n, whats up.” He exclaims, giving you a side hug. “What song am I dancing to?” You close the door and look at his computer. “New music but don’t worry, its a slow rnb jam.” You smile to him. “I hope your pillow is cold on both sides.” He laughs and opens the door for you. Looking around, people are slowly starting to flow in. You go to the bar and grab your tray. As you go out to the floor, you serve a few drinks here and there. Walking around, you observe and see the many artists in the area. A light tap is placed upon your shoulder. You turn around and see a man, you’re almost seeing eye to eye.

“Can I get you a drink, sir?” You ask and he’s clearly taken aback by the formalities. “A scotch, neat.” He says, adjusting his shirt. You nod with a small smile and go to the bar. “One scotch neat please.” You ask the bartender, setting your tray down. Taking the tray with the drink, you walk back to the guy. “Here’s your drink.” You hand it to him and your finger unintentionally brushes against his. You don’t acknowledge it as you walk away. “Come on.” You get tugged by the arm and your tray gets pulled away from you. “Y/n, what the hell are you doing? You’re next.” You pull away from your boss’s grip. “I’m next?” You ask quietly, looking at the time. “Oh shit.” You say and he scoffs. “Get your ass backstage. Now!” He pushes you towards the stage and you walk over. Chaos is going on behind the scenes, you try your best to stay out the way. Looking at the roster plastered on the wall you see Ari is before you. “Who’s up now?” You ask a nearby dancer. “Ari just went up.” You nod to the information and wait your turn. You’re nervous, more nervous than usual. Checking yourself in a close mirror, you fix the top of your dress.

“Y/n!” You turn at the calling of your name. “You’re next.” Ari says, sitting down. You take a deep breath and nod. Putting on a sly smile you appear from the curtains. Slowly walking to the pole as the singer begins to sing. ‘live performer? thats certainly new.’ You think to yourself. Stopping by the pole and pulling a sneaky sexy move. Holding onto the pole you lift your leg up slowly until your heels is nearly above your head. Bringing it down and raping it around the pole, you use your upper body strength to pull yourself up. Raping your legs around each other and letting your hands free. Leaning your head back you watch the crowd as you slowly spin. After spinning around twice, you put your hands back on the pole and pull yourself up to the top. Taking your time, you turn upside down, your ankles raping tightly around the top of the pole. Freeing up your hands, you captivate the crowd. Unexpectedly you drop down, your head almost hitting the floor. You chuckle at their gasps. Placing your hands on the ground, you distribute your weight to the floor in order to safely land on the ground.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you spread them into a split. Turning to the crowd, you lore a man in. Your legs hanging off the stage on either side of him. Doing some eye catching movements, you lay on the ground and arch your back into a bridge. Making sure not to hit anyone as you elegantly do a back walk over to a stance. Winking to the man and blowing a kiss to the crowd as the song reaches its end. You wave to the singer and seductively walk away. Making sure to swing that butt before disappearing into the curtains. The crowd erupts into claps. You smile and snap. “I did that.” Ari stands in shock. “That was breathtaking.” She says mouth agape. You chuckle to her. “Thanks. I have to get back to work.” You sigh. “You should have the rest of the night off for that performance.” You shush her kind words. “Don’t let the wrong people hear you say that.” You smile to her and leave. The moment you leave backstage you bump into the same guy from before. “Nice dancing.” He says, looking over you respectfully.

“Thank you. I loved your song.” You give him a smile. “Really? I wasn’t sure about performing it.” You stand in disbelief. “It was supposed to be scraped.” You shake your head slightly, not believing his words. “Wow. Could have fooled me, that song was so good. Whats the name?” His features are more defined in this different lighting, he has bright blond hair and hazel eyes. “Addicted.” You nod to him, mentally remembering the name. “I’ll definitely listen to the song.” He genuinely smiles to you, probably thankful to have an additional listener. Someone grabs your shoulder and you almost deck them in the face. “Excuse my co-worker.” Evelyn says with the fakest smile on her face. He smiles to you and waves as you’re dragged away. “You have no time to be flirting with some guy.” She says to you, disgusted. She’s wearing a white skin tight dress to show off the little curves she thinks has. You roll your eyes and take your tray. Not giving her the luxury of a response. Giving out some more drinks and you get very bored.

“I guess he’s not coming.” You huff to yourself, some of your hair sticking to your face. “It’s like a sweatbox in here.” You take a deep breath and the bartender chuckles. He gives you the remainder of your drinks and you dish them out. Out of nowhere, you see all the waitresses serving champagne. You fill your tray with champagne and walk around. People taking a glass here and there until a huge group of people enter. They take the 2 flutes of champagne left. “Is there anymore champagne?” He asks looking around. “Yeah, I’ll get some more.” You smile apologetically and rush back to the bar. Getting the tray full of drinks you go back to the group. They clean the tray. “Would you like a table for your group?” You ask politely. “I think my producer has a table already.” He says looking around and seeing his producer sitting at a table. “There his is. Thanks though.” He takes a girl on each arm and walks over to his producer, never sparing you a glance. “No problem.” The rest of the group gives you their empty glasses and follows him.

<< Previous Next>> *THIS IS PART 5*

Tag List: @walking-fish @cleverzonkwombatsludge

#ambw #ambw couple #ambw imagines #slice of life #y/n #black fanfiction #black y/n #black girls matter #south korea #korea #ambw scenarios #lemon #fluff #sexy y/n #asian men #black women #black girl magic #fanfiction #fanifc

[inorganicpixie]

Went over my limit but stayed under 1,000 total intake. Ended up having a bag of kale chips instead of my planned mixed bag of freeze dried fruit and baby crackers.

Still had all my protein stuff I planned and had everything else I planned. I almost bought chocolate though to comfort eat with so I am glad I stuck through and had something slightly healthier and lower cal.

Had an emotional moment at work today after getting talked to about not being as up to my usual get it done attitude lately. I’m pretty sure it’s partly due to my lack of food affecting my general energy levels… I am unfortunately considering raising my weekday intake slightly to see if it helps. Even though the idea of doing that on purpose is pretty stressful…Plus I got like 5hrs of sleep only so I guess it makes sense that I diverted slightly. Will be doing some extra cycling and maybe some strength workouts tonight to help burn off some of the cals.

Fasting now until tomorrow. Then it’s binge weekend.

#3d diet #tw 3d vent #3d not sheeran #i wish i was weightless #ed not ed sheeran #4norexi4 #@n0r3xia

[zup-its-elle]

12/16/2023 // hi, it's me again. Tonight, I am feeling sad, anxious, mixed emotions. I don't wanna leave and go back to the city. It's like living in a dream and a nightmare at once.

I'll miss the days where I don't have to plan every...single...day. That sucks, you know. Waking up at night feeling empty and obliged because life made you live to work. I like being alone but I hate waking up with no one but the sound of the vehicles passing by through my window I haven't even brushed for a year. Sometimes, I don't know how to deal with it, it's like having no purpose at all.

I just wanna be rich so I can lay on my bed whole day long with a liter of chocolate drink and a bag of Piattos. Oh, don't forget cookies and chocolates! Well, it's just a dream. And I need to wake up 'cause in reality, I'm just a poor bitch trying to live.

Anyways, I would like to take this chance also to thank God for the gift of peace of mind. Even for a month, He let me experienced it. It's really a big thing to let go, to reflect, to think of...anything. About everything.

[dzpenumbra]

7/25/23

A bit late tonight. I am pleased to say I slept very well. I am not happy to say I had very disturbing dreams.

Dreams of my family, and my family's home. A lot of very "acid-trip" surreal imagery. I swear, sometimes the only real difference between a weed-freakout, a severe panic attack and a bad nightmare is the... physical sensations and visceral emotions. I don't really feel like I get them in dreams so much. I get them after I wake up, absolutely. The racing heart, adrenaline coursing through your veins, that kinda shock to the system. But I don't know if I really feel that while I'm dreaming, while I'm still asleep. I don't know, maybe I do and I just haven't had one of those nightmares in a while. Guess I can count myself lucky that I don't even remember.

This dream was a bit more disturbing in hindsight by how... normalized all of the disturbing imagery was. Having my younger brother completely ignore most of what I'm saying to him, regardless of the context. Being looked at with constant suspicion and scrutiny. I had just... grown so fucking accustomed to being treated that way. Even from my little brother, who is supposed to like... look up to me. And for what reason? Fuck if I know. Because I have differing thoughts, ideas and opinions from my parents. Go figure.

The whole goal of the dream from what I could remember was... I was with a very beautiful woman, who was clearly my to-be partner in the dream. Though... she was wearing bold red lipstick which I really am not a fan of. But I kinda just looked past it. The goal was to shower with her, which for me is much less of a sexual act than a romantic one. One of very close bonding. My very few shared shower memories are all very fun, playful, close, intimate conversations. So really... the goal, in a nutshell... though it may appear to others and would most likely be read by most interpreters very directly as a sexual goal... is pretty far from that for me specifically. The goal is clearly deep, meaningful human connection; specifically comfort and bonding with another while being vulnerable. And every other person in the dream was very clearly the antithesis of this. Very distant, cold, skeptical, alienating, walls-up.

The other figure was my mom. This came up after me and my "partner" went to the downstairs bathroom, the one I used to shower in high school because the shower closest to my bedroom broke and my parents never even tried to get it fixed. When I went in there, I saw her two dogs... but they took the form of lions. Very sickly, emaciated skeletons of lions. I wasn't even remotely scared of them, I was just... deeply sad. I just got out of their way as they lumbered by. And that's really the metaphor. When you get a "guard dog" and forget that it's a living being with feelings and emotions and bonds... and you neglect them for extended periods of time... you can get a mixed bag of results. (Just like if you do that to people...) With these poor souls, they were no threat to anyone. They were barely fed. And they were lying in a bathroom covered in shit. Like this bathroom had become their cave, their hiding spot.

The partner figure and I started to clean the shit off the floor. I went out of the bathroom and ran into my mom, who was acting like this was completely normal. As usual. Bless her heart, if there's one thing I could give that woman, it would be courage. Shame you can't just give that to people. I was looking for paper towels to clean. She very casually warned me about a certain type of shit in the bathroom, very vaguely too... and then went about her business. I remember on the table there was a like... 8" diameter section of a log... it looked like a red pine kinda... which doesn't grow in that area, but I did find at the National Park nearby, all the bark looks like puzzle pieces, it's very oddly beautiful. This one had what looked like maple seeds growing out of it, it was a really odd combination of beautiful and... disturbing. I still don't fully know what to make of that. But my mom seemed all-in-all very dismissive and aloof. So we went back to cleaning up.

The woman I was with got to the type of shit we were warned about and it kinda half-exploded and stained her shirt. I just casually and genuinely said "don't worry, you can just borrow one of mine." Again, turning the focus back to intimacy, bonding, connection; making the best out of a... shitty... situation. But when I looked up at the stain, the stain was on a beer belly. It wasn't her. She had morphed into an overweight version of what looked like Spencer Sotelo, the singer from Periphery. And I guess that was enough for me to go "fuck this" and wake myself up. XD

I still haven't fully been able to parse why him specifically. The only real association I've had to him beyond just admiring his vocal abilities - which is very separate from a personality opinion, for me - was in one of the Periphery documentaries where... I kinda jumped to the conclusion that he was sort of a snobby upperish class California type. If you know what I mean... And I could be right, I could be wrong, I have no idea. It's hard to form an opinion on someone's personality from clips in a documentary... But what matters in context of this dream is what kind of associations I have with that specific symbol. And that's the association I had with that man. And I guess what it was kinda getting at was a hint I didn't really take in the beginning... the lipstick. I think the message was like... "okay, you didn't get it with the makeup, so... let's make this message much more clear..." And what's the message? Artificiality. Seeking a bond, seeking intimacy... with a mask. With someone who wears fur coats and gets their hair styled, but at home has a beer gut and a drinking problem. You know what I mean?

I endured so much shit from my family, so much disrespect. (I'm kinda editing this rant a little just to make sure I don't go on for too long and I'm gonna skip to the point.) All for... a taste of genuine human connection, bonding. Which turned out to be fake all along. I could acknowledge, see and find compassion for the way I was treated by my family. That was a big overt theme in the dream too, explicitly displaying genuine compassion while being treated like garbagio. Because of a very present awareness that their crappy action was directly sourcing from their own suffering. But the one person I could not see clearly at all... was the person I wasn't even looking at. The person I implicitly trusted. The person right by my side, the person whose entire role was to bond with me. Who chose that role, volunteered. They turned out to be the deceiver. So... I guess... as shitty as I've been treated by my family... I guess in a sick way I'm kinda glad that they're so... blatant about it. Now I'm just scared of the shapeshifters... the mask wearers... well... I guess more scared of my ability to detect them properly, especially when they are in a role like... someone who wants to bond with me. That does seem to be when I just get all starry eyed and blindly optimistic and shit.

Anyway, that was what I woke up to. But I got a good decent amount of sleep. I did wake up to creaks at one point but... I think I got back to sleep? I don't remember.

I've been pretty slow moving today. But despite that... I got a ton done on the grip tape. Finished outlining, then did shading on both the red and the gold pedals. Like... literally everything is done except for adding in details now. And maybe interior shading if I choose to do that. I have no clue what to do for pedal details, I'm just gonna wing it and then mirror the improvisation. That's what I usually do. I'm really proud of myself. That was a big step.

ALSO... I went outside my comfort zone with shading a bit. I usually use black for shading... I know... I kinda got used to the look of it, and it can have some kinda comic-book-like appearance to it... and a lot of my past work was monochromatic... but I decided to go outside my comfort zone and play around more with using color for shading. The red pedal basecoat is a mix of Alizarine Crimson and Dioxazine Purple, heavy on the crimson though. So I decided to do a wash of a mostly purple mix for shading... and pure crimson for a highlight. I... might have to lighten the highlight, even the pure crimson is a bit too low value for my comfort. I might even add a tiny bit of gold to it so it looks like it's reflecting the light from the gold leaves underneath. The gold... I was going to use the purple too... but decided instead to go with a mix of the metallic gold, a tiny touch of the purple to get the red from it and some Pthalo Blue. I watered that the fuck down and gave it a wash and it came out pretty damn good. It definitely gave the piece a lot more depth.

So yeah, a lot of big art steps today. Going outside of my comfort zone, on a piece that is bound to be destroyed, while improvising a design... on something that's going to be very visible... I'm proud of myself for it. It feels good.

I rewarded myself by getting a game I've had my eye on for a while, which was on sale. Mini Motorways. Holy crap did I get sucked into that. It's the perfect mix of simplicity, difficulty, calm and brain-frying all at the same time. Highly recommend, very easy to learn too.

I guess that's about it. Bed time.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 9: romanticizing life

I remember one evening a few years ago, my roommate and I were sitting in the living room when one of us, I can't remember who, got excited about the colors in the sunset sky. This was always something I enjoyed in the evenings was getting to come home to our third floor apartment (not so much the walk up though) and seeing the sunset from our west facing balcony. I do miss that apartment, it was such a nice place.

But that evening he and I were talking as we watched the sunset and he told me he appreciated having me in his life because I helped him enjoy the all things. I had helped him find joy in things that happen daily like sunsets, like morning coffee, like candles that we kept lit on the coffee table. They're all everyday aspects of our lives, but to me, I look to the sky to see a cloud shape I'll not see again, to see the new patterns the sun paints that night, how does this candle smell tonight with the mix of smells from the kitchen, my perfume, the air from outside. Everything changes even if it's a constant like the sun and the moon and clouds.

I had gone out at lunch time to the grocery store to get something to eat and ended up grabbing a few extra items like strawberries and blackberries that were on sale and the some dehydrated kiwi and a bag of freeze dried peach slices. I saw the peaches on an end cap and last minute grabbed a package because I thought it was cute. I'm a sucker for good package design. When I got home, I placed some of the berries in these new ceramic berry containers that I had gotten in a subscription box that wow, I've have for six years now.

But that was made me reflect on today, was the idea of romanticizing life and enjoying the little and small to the grand and huge. I got to see Venus and Jupiter sparkling brightly in the sky the last couple of nights and got to see the moon shine so full. My wildflower seeds I tossed outside are popping up and even now I'm wearing my cat ear headphones as I write this. I thought how I wanted to add things to my home like a jar of matches I have to strike to light a candle or a coffee mug shaped like a flower. I want whimsy, I want cute, I want to find joy in getting to strike a match against the container and watch it come to life.

I think about what I already have an appreciate the joy it brings me like the fluffy bison ottoman in my bedroom, the little hummingbird figurine that hangs from the taller coffee table that you can only see from the brown couch, the bedsheets on my rabbits' beds match my bedsheets. There's the bucket of like 30 rubber ducks that I bring out occasionally for bath time and the little gold koala that climbs the stalk of my golden pothos. Even my tattoos. I have a frog teapot and a cartoon Shiba Inu from a phone game that I've never played, but I love him so much with his little hat and overalls.

I want to find joy and awe and beauty in everything, but moreso I want to find heart and emotion in different aspects of my life. I'm happy I can cry, I'm happy I can feel sadness, I'm happy being able to give space to that. Because it reminds me I'm whole. I'm human. I am more than my skills and what I have to offer, I'm more than sunshine and rainbows, and more so, I'm allowed to be sad, messy, angry, tired, everything my mother wouldn't let me be. I find comfort in the crack in the plastic in this new picture frame I got, the water stains on my coffee table, the way my childhood teddy bear has holes and missing his nose.

Because to me, that's me. The painting in the frame is still beautiful regardless of it's crack, my coffee table holds so much and looks well loved, Bobo is definitely well loved and has traveled the world with me. I have my scars, the lines on my body that tell a story, I have things that I don't like like my weight or my chest. I know I have flaws, I have made mistakes and fucked up, I have hurt people I love, I have said the wrong words, and I haven't given myself the self-love and appreciate all that I am. But even with my flaws, my mistakes, the errors of my past, I'm still so beautiful, so loved, so full of love to give, so worthy of where I am and who I am and all that I have and can be.

In a way, I want to romanticize the things around me because I want to find joy and delight in the world and in myself. Growing up, it was all about appearing perfect. Even though my parents were divorced, we were expected to be picture perfect. The three kids who was supported by their martyr of a mother and siblings to a moderate to highly neirodivergent sibling. We were to look clean even though I had insanely bad dandruff as a child that left my scalp bleeding and hair greasy and my step mom said I was smelly when she first met me. We were to have the best grades, all the after school activities, the best clothes.

I remember being so controlled, I wasn't allowed to dye my hair, I had to bleach my mustache, I had to pluck my chin hairs, I could only wear Old Navy. I wasn't allowed to be around my older sister when she went through her punk phase because our mother knew we were close then and still are now. I couldn't wear the color yellow because my mother hated it. I had to call my mother when I was 19 and wanted to get my second set of ear lobe piercings to get permission. I was put on Atkins when I was 12 and my mother told me to stay away from certain kids who were too queer, despite her saying she supports LGBT students.

So now I look to the little details that catch the eye, I love the color yellow, I line my arms with tattoos because they make me feel gorgeous and they remind me to enjoy the whimsical and to romanticize life not as a way to avoid hard feelings and look through rose tinted glasses, but as a way to find the beauty in everything whether it's a sad beauty or joyous one. I want to find joy and be in the moment, I don't want to go through life feeling mundane. I have gone through it so much controlled and restricted and now I want messy, I want colors, I want details, I want imperfections, I want to be present.