#the way around to the gas station for their Mac

[miss-floral-thief]

Well ateast the generic dollar store of Imodium was like 4 bucks versus 13 tho also treated myself to

Some

Smarties/gum

#and tic tacs #to with the six pack of Dr Pepper it was like 23 bucks oof #at least it all fits #idm if #I have them to #circle all #the way around to the gas station for their Mac #this bbq Hawaiian katsu place also #has Mac salad but I don’t wanna go too often #711 #1:9 #$-: #pizza but not as much cherry Vanilla Coke - #options lol oh well #but parents will get uptight and call #at like 6pm #lol #personalice

[graysturns]

𝕗𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 | 𝕞.𝕤.

note: hey guys this is my first time posting my actual work and i’m kinda new to tumblr so pls be nice or i will cry ok thanks bye

warnings: idk smut ig

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"babe please hurry up, we're already running late," matt sighs as he shuts the car door.

"i just need to get some shorts or something, i can't show up to your mom's house in these jeans, look at this" i lift the sweater wrapped around my waist, revealing the rip around my inner thigh.

he rolls his eyes and sulks behind me as we make our way inside the old navy in our hometown. i begin to scan the various women's clothing, looking for something basic, because it's too late to go back home and figure out a new outfit.

"will you hurry up and pick one? please, y/n. chris is texting me wondering where we are. they want to start eating without us and he's most definitely gonna eat all the mac and cheese."

i roll my eyes at him. "first of all, never call me by my government name. rude. and second, we just got here, breathe. we wouldn't be here if you hadn't grabbed my ass so harshly when we stopped at the gas station. you caused this by manhandling me, matthew." i shot back.

he sighs again as i grab a few different options in my size and head towards the fitting rooms. upon arrival, we notice there aren't any employees so i pick a stall and wave matt into the small room.

he looks up at me, then around at our surroundings, "are you sure? i don't think they allow multiple people in at once, i'll just wait here."

i roll my eyes again. "matthew! get in here! i need your opinion. this store is basically empty anyways. it's not a big deal, you've seen me naked before. let's not act so innocent."

he follows me in and takes a seat on the bench facing the door. i untie the sweater he lent me and throw it at his face. "rude!" he exclaims sassily, throwing the wad of clothing to the ground.

"uhm, excuse me, you're rude. you're the whole reason we're in this mess." i begin to remove the ripped pair of pants and pull a new one off its hanger.

facing the mirror on the door, i begin to pull the pair of mom jeans on before matt looks up from his phone and stops me.

"baby, i've never seen these panties on you before, are they new?" he smirks at me. i nod, swatting at his hands.

"wait stop, they're super cute, why haven't you shown me?" he looks up at me with those hypnotic blue eyes, brows furrowed.

i turn around, with the jeans still around my ankles and my hands on my hips. "do i need to inform you every time i purchase a new article of clothing, matt? it's just panties."

he wiggles his eyebrows at me, "when they make your ass look like that, then yeah, i must be notified immediately." he places me onto his lap, pulling the jeans all the way off my ankles so i can straddle him.

"baby we're running late, you're the one who keeps insisting, as much as i want to, we don't have time to fool around" i say to him between the open-mouthed kisses he begins to place on my neck.

he starts to take my top off, then gasps. "fuck the mac and cheese! it's a matching set, now i really can't believe you kept this from me." he drools at the sight of the lacy see-through bra, rubbing his thumb over my visible nipple. he yanks down the thin fabric, causing my boobs to spill over. with one arm wrapped around me, clutching my ass, he uses the other to massage my breast, all while kissing my neck. i feel myself starting to give in, biting my lip to stifle a moan. "matt, i-i don't think we can do this here." i slightly protest, but he reaches up to kiss me, and bites my bottom lip.

i'm done for.

he's kissing and grabbing and rubbing all over me and i'm a mess. i can never say no to him, he knows how to manipulate my body to want exactly what he wants. i can feel his bulge through his jeans, and i grind on it slowly, making my clit throb against it.

suddenly, he lifts me and flips me around so im sat on his lap, and we're both facing the mirror. he's unbuckling his belt, then his pants. he wraps one arm around my waist and lifts me slightly while he pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his dick, standing tall and proud.

he makes eye contact with me in the mirror and grabs my face, smushing my cheeks together, and whispers in my ear, "i want you to watch baby, watch how good you can take my whole dick inside of you, pay real close attention."

he smirks at my widened eyes, and moves the panties to one side, rubbing the wetness all around and then on my clit.

"you normally get to scream all you want, but not this time baby, okay? you need to be really really quiet for me, got it?" he covers my mouth.

i nod quickly, and without warning, he picks me up and thrusts his entire length into me. i hold back a scream, and i feel tears falling down my cheeks. no matter how many times, how long we've been together, i'll never be used to his size.

he gives me a second to adjust, and then begins to pound into me over and over again, my back sliding up and down his clothed chest. i'm watching as my breasts bounce up and down and his dick glides in and out, in and out. he uncovers my mouth, keeping one hand on my waist, and starts to rub circles on my clit with the pad of his thumb, making me roll my eyes back further in pleasure.

he begins to nibble on my ear, then moves down to suck the spot right underneath. as he kisses down, i feel him bite down on my shoulder to suppress a moan.

"matthew!" i hiss at the pain, but it feels so good.

"shh!" he pinches my nipple, causing me to let out a whimper.

i grab his wrist, stopping his movement, and smile at him, "my turn." i bend down slightly, still facing the mirror so he has a full view of my ass while i bounce on his dick. he presses down on my back, sliding his hand down to secure a firm grip on my neck. he curses under his breath, trying hard not to make any noise while i'm aggressively riding him. he places both hands on my ass grasping and slapping occasionally, until i sit back up and we're making eye contact in the reflection. he's rubbing on my clit again, using his other hand to massage my left breast and i can feel a knot forming in my abdomen.

i turn around so i'm straddling him, and continue to bounce up and down. he grabs me by my throat and kisses me roughly, before planting a hard slap on my ass. i move faster, and he groans, grasping my ass tighter, leaving hand-shaped bruises for him to stare at later.

"i'm almost there baby. fuck, you're the most beautiful thing i've ever laid my eyes on." he whispers in my ear and i close my eyes, feeling my climax creeping close.

we start moving in sync, until my legs shake, and i feel his dick twitch, then shoot his load into me, causing me to finish as well, leaving me trembling on his lap. i drop my head forward onto his shoulder, desperately trying to catch my breath

he wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the side of my head. "wow, what we just did was probably super illegal, " i laugh at his comment, but then frown when i realize what we've done.

"fucking hell, matt. we can't buy pants now, i feel too awkward going up to the register after we've been in this fitting room for so long, they probably know what we've been doing!" i cover my face with my hands.

"baby that's alright," he grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. "just put your clothes back on, we'll go back to the car, and you can just borrow some sweats when we get home."

i stare at him, mouth gaping in realization. "are you serious? we could've just done that in the first place! i'm so dumb, why didn't i think of that?"

he stands and helps me put my shirt on, followed by the ripped jeans, "it's alright y/n, i didn't think of it either. let's go home, i'm starving." he smiles at me, rubbing small circles on my back.

"i love you, matt" i look up at him, with red cheeks, wondering how i'm going to leave this dressing room with any dignity.

"i love you. don't worry, i know what you're thinking. just hold my hand and we'll walk back to the car, c'mon." he laces our fingers together and kisses me on the forehead, unlocking the door and stepping out of the changing room.

luckily enough, nobody seemed to even notice us weaving through the aisles and exiting the store. we managed to get back in matt's car without a single interruption, and soon after arriving at his house, where chris had demolished the entire dish of mac and cheese.

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ahh can’t believe i’m posting this but fuck it we ball

to be added to taglist comment here

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #fanfic

[shuniverse]

lean on me ,, l.f

🧷 I really need some Felix comfort right now. I’m just tired and I love this man so much, like he’s been one of my ults since I got back into kpop and there hasn’t been a thing that’s pulled me away from him. he deserves the world <3

📁 after a rough day, all you want to do is lay down and let out your frustrations any way you can, and felix is there to help you

🎐 emotional and unstable reader ;; SH mention ;; reader breaks down ;; hurt/comfort (fluffy ending <3) ;; lowercase intended ;; gn!reader ;;

;;

you burst into yours and felix’s shared apartment, dried tears staining your cheeks as you throw your bag down, sniffling. marching your way to the kitchen, you’re just scrounging around for any semblance of comfort food, whether that be mac & cheese, some cookies, gummies, anything.

you yell in frustration as you find none of these items, and you don’t even register that your boyfriend has walked out of your shared bedroom, concerned and tired, hearing all the commotion from outside the thin walls of the apartment. when he finds you, you’re hunched over the kitchen island, sniffling into your hands which are holding up your head, which feels so heavy.

your new tears are falling onto the island, small strangled sobs leaving your lips.

today had been a stressful one, working your stupid job at the nearby gas station. a dumb job, but it was all you needed right now to get through your last year of college, just needing the money to be able to suffer through it. but every customer just seemed like they had some stick up their ass, never once thanking you, giving you dirty looks. on top of that, your boss who was supposed to give you at least a bit of a pay raise hadn’t even done that, instead handing you a half eaten candy bar because that’s ‘all he could do at the moment.’

you slam a balled fist down onto the counter top, and flinch when you feel a familiar hand press gently against your back.

his deep voice lulls you away from your hands, and you gaze up at him. “sweetheart? hey- baby what’s wrong?” he gently holds your face, and you practically throw yourself at him, your head burying into his chest, your now full sobs wracking your ribs, tears staining his shirt.

felix doesn’t say anything, only whispering quiet hushes as his ringed hands rub up and down your back, and he’s pressing gentle kisses on your head.

after what seems like forever, sobbing into felix’s chest, you finally calm just a bit, at least enough to form coherent words. you’re sniffling uncontrollably, your eyes puffy and red when you look up at felix.

he gently cups your face, kissing your forehead before looking back at you. you’re hiccuping, those kinds of hiccups that seem to linger uncomfortably when you sob. he has a small, sad smile on his lips.

“hey, baby, I’ve got you.” he kisses your nose, your temple, your cheek. “take some deep breaths with me, yeah?”

you nod, shuddering with every hiccup, tears staining your face. with his instructions, you take a deep, slow breath, to the best of your ability, through your nose, then back through your mouth. after about 5 times doing this, your breathing is somewhat regular, with a couple hiccups every now and again.

finally, he picks you up, setting you on the island, gently rubbing your thighs, looking up at your tear stained face. “now, what happened today, honey?”

your tears almost come back again, threatening to well up, but you take another slow breath before finally answering. you spew all your issues from today onto the beautiful man in front of you. you concentrate on his freckles, how they sprinkle over his cheeks. you concentrate on his pretty brown eyes, how they crinkle adorably when he smiles. all of this helping you talk without sobbing more.

he only nods while you vent to him, but frowns when you mention you thought about hurting yourself, to which he takes both of your wrists, kissing them and your hands, and you think you see tears in his eyes as well. it almost makes you cry again, but he rests his head against your chest as you finish your story.

he doesn’t speak at first, somewhat unsure of what to say. but he pulls his head away, looking into your eyes with his own somewhat glossy ones. “you should quit that job, baby. I’ll help you get a new job, a better one. i don’t want you to come home sad like this, not because you have a shitty boss, and have to deal with shitty people.”

you give a sad smile. “but where would I go, lixie?”

he shakes his head, and you feel his thumb rubbing circles onto your thigh. “I don’t know, baby. but we’ll find a place. I can help pay for your college, I don’t want you to do that by yourself. you should quit your job. I’ll help you pay for college, I’ll help you find a better job. we’ll get through this together, I know we will.”

his eyes are glossing up more, and you can tell he’s trying not to cry, but the way his lip trembles and his voice shakes gives him away. you wrap your arms around him, holding his trembling frame close. “lixie, you don’t have to-“

“no!” his shaky voice makes you jump, and he’s immediately rubbing your back as an apology, lowering his voice. “no, honey, I want to. I want you to finish out college, and I-im wiling to do the whatever it takes. o-okay?”

you pull him back, and a tear has fallen down his cheek. “lixie..”

he kisses you, it’s gentle and soft. you gently cup his face, kissing back. you pull away after a bit. “lixie, there’s no need to cry.. it’s okay- really.”

he pouts, seemingly making his lip tremble more. “I-I’m sorry, but.. you’re so hurt, and.. and you said you thought about h-hurting yourself, and I.. I don’t want that for you. It hurts me to know that you could’ve potentially harmed yourself.. I-I don’t want to lose you.”

you sigh, shakily. “Lix.. the good thing is that I didn’t, right? I’m still here. I just wasn’t in a good headspace.. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that, not when I have you to look forward to when I leave that shitty job.”

he looks at you through his lashes, and he rests his head on your chest again. you play with his hair, and he’s got a firm grip on you. you feel a small pool of wetness on your shirt, and you realize he’s crying. you pull him away, holding his face, and kiss him. you’re on the verge of sobbing again.

you pull away and look at his teary eyes, his own tears running down his freckled cheeks. “I’m okay, lix.. I would never leave you, okay? I’ll always be here. I’m so sorry.”

he shakes his head, kissing you again for a second, before pulling away to look at you. “no, no, don’t be sorry. none of this is your fault.” he holds your hands between his own. “we can call and quit in the morning, okay? I don’t want you suffering any longer. let’s.. let’s just go take a bath, alright? a warm one, with a bath bomb. I’ll give you a massage.”

you nod, a soft smile gracing your features, which causes felix to smile in return, and he wipes away his tears. “there’s my baby.” he lifts you up, walking with you to the bathroom, and sets you to sit on the kitchen sink. he starts running the bath water, and looks through the cabinets for one of your favorite bath bombs. it’s your favorite color, and it smells good too.

he kisses your cheek, and helps you undress, kissing every part of exposed skin. it’s a loving gesture, not one of lust, and you love him for it. he always seems to know what you need.

for a second, he’s leaving the bathroom. it makes you worry, until he’s come back with clean, fluffy towels, and pajamas for you and him. it makes you smile.

he helps you down, resting your tired, naked body in the tub. climbing in behind you when he’s fully undressed. he wets your hair with a tall cup filled with the tub’s warm water.

grabbing your shampoo, he’s massaging your scalp, making sure he’s not hurting you.

you hum in contentment, placing your hands on his knees.

after he’s shampooed your hair, your scalp is once again met with the warmth of the bath water, as he helps you wash the shampoo out. he slowly runs his fingers through your hair.

following after the water, he’s applying conditioner, and you don’t recognize the smell, turning to look at felix. he shakes his head, giggling slightly. “it’s okay, baby, I just got some new conditioner.” you cock an eyebrow. “what kind?”

“it’s a different scent, but it has the same functions as your old conditioner. don’t worry, sweetheart, just lemme take care of you, okay?” you nod, and turn your head back around to face the tub faucet, feeling his hands run the conditioner through your hair, and he’s softly scratching your head when he’s done.

letting the conditioner work it’s magic, he turns you around, so your whole body is facing him. “gonna let me wash you, honey?”

you nod for what seems to be the billionth time this evening, and he giggles, slowly and gently pulling you closer, grabbing a loofah and lathering it with your body wash, and he starts rubbing it, gently, on your body. you lean your forehead against his, and giggle when he reaches your lower regions. you spread your legs, and he washes the insides of your thighs before grabbing different lotion for your privates, making sure he’s careful with it.

it’s nothing new, feeling his hands down there, but this feels more intimate, more love filled. you sigh, and he moves his hands away when he deems you clean enough, and grabs the loofah to clean the rest of your legs.

when he’s finished, he just holds you close, sighing comfortably as you nuzzle your head against his neck. you start feeling dozy, but felix looks at you and pets your hair. “let’s wash this off, yeah?”

with that, he’s taking the tall cup, using the warm water to rinse off the body wash and conditioner.

you realize he didn’t clean himself, and you turn around after he’s finished. “here, lemme return the favor, lixie.”

he smiles, nodding, and refills the cup with more warm water, and rinses off the suds on your loofah.

you return every sweet gesture he’s done for you, gently massaging his scalp with the hair products, and lathering his body with his own body wash. he sits comfortably, letting you be on top of him while you work.

after you’re both cleaned up, he stands up, pulling you with him, and grabs a soft towel, drying you off, and wringing the water out of your hair. you step out of the tub, doing the same for him, and he follows suit. you dress each other, and to no surprise he’s given you one of his shirts and some soft pajama pants, with him without a shirt and some sweats that hug loosely around his hips. he looks beautiful.

“and so do you, sweetheart.” you don’t even realize you say that out loud, but his smile seems to make you not care as he replies, and you kiss him. gently. lovingly.

he’s picking you up after draining the bath water, and walks with you to the bedroom, laying you down in your shared bed. he feeds you a couple of your favorite gummies that are on the bedside table, and he gives you a little Bbokari plush to cuddle. finally, he climbs in next to you, kissing your shoulder and where your shoulder meets your neck. you sigh, and turn to lay on your side, facing him as he wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tiredly up at you.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you more, lixie.”

he smiles, to tired to refute your words, which would normally lead to a little word battle on who loves the other more.

after some gentle kisses from the both of you, you’re slowly drifting off to sleep.

you’ll call your boss in the morning, quitting your job. it may only take days to find another, maybe weeks, months even.

but as long as you’ve got felix, you don’t feel like you would have a problem with that.

with your last little thoughts leaving your head, you drift off to sleep, one arm snuggling Bbokari, the other on felix, your fingers carded through his hair.

as your breathing slows, you almost swear you hear something from felix, a gentle mumble that could go unnoticed by anybody.

..

“..we’ll be married one day, I know it.”

;;

help I wrote this in one sitting, in a matter of 30-40 minutes. I hope this didn’t suck!

feel free to like and reblog, I greatly appreciate it! stay safe guys <3

#lee felix #felix imagines #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #felix fluff #skz imagines #skz felix #skz drabbles #felix drabbles #lee felix drabbles #please i love him so much

[reidwitchsblog]

My Ticci Toby HC

Warning: 18+ content, mention of dead animals, mention of people’s death, mention of scars, wrong use of punctuation marks.

Author’s note: While I take my sweet time writing the second part of my fict, enjoy this little headcanons that have been on my mind.

Author’s note 2: I created this playlist that basically captures everything you need to know about the way I hc him.

Minors DNI.

PERSONALITY

His personality is, for a lack of better words, eerie. Most of the time he is silent and observant, and due to his past he doesn’t show his true personality often, but rather he morphs into a person that he thinks the others will like, it could be a mature young man, or a sarcastic little shit.

I believe that when he kills, he tortures his victims due to the fact that the concept of pain is foreign to him. He enjoys to try different torture methods

His biggest desire is to have a home. It is something he keeps a secret from others, not really because he is afraid of being made fun of, but rather because he feels that as long as no one knows, the fact that it’s never going to happen will hurt less. So he keeps that deep inside him, in a safe place, like a little photograph that he can take out and look when he is feeling down.

As much as he despises being angry (it reminds him of his dad), he can’t help it, he is his father’s son after all. When he gets mad, his first instinct is to bear his teeth and growl. And if the person he is fighting with doesn’t take the cue, he will attack, aiming for the throat as soon as he has the opportunity.

And talking about dogs, HE LOVES LIKE A HOUND DOG, once that he catch a scent that is appealing to him, there is nothing, and no one, that’s able to stop him. He is going to chase it until he has it in his maw, without very little regard as to whether he is hurting himself.

PHYSICAL

I see many people saying that my man is the shortest one out of all proxies, but, respectfully, I think they are wrong. He just gives me tall man vibes, HOWEVER, I think his poor posture makes him stand at 6’0, when he normally is 6’2, which comes really handy when he wants to scare his victims.

We all agree that he has the most beautiful light brown eyes, they are like pools of honey, warm and inviting, which contrast massively with the scowl he seems to permanently wear.

Although he is more on the skinny side, he has gained some muscles over the years due to all the physical work he does; chopping wood, running around, carrying his victims… sadly he covers them with either flannels or grandpa sweaters.

Still on the topic of grandpa sweaters, he looooves them, mainly because they remind him of his late sister, whose last Christmas present were two brown and green sweaters. His to go outfit is a short sleeved band shirt, a flannel, a pair of dark denim jeans, his old shearling jacket and and a pair of black Converse. When he is alone is his cabin he opts for a wife beater and a pair of flannel pajama pants.

His whole body is covered in scars, most of them being self inflicted, and fewer being the ones made by his bravest victims that naively thought that a knife would’ve stopped Toby from killing them. He doesn’t hate them per say, he even thinks some of them are cool, but in the coldest nights, when he is alone with his thoughts, he can’t help but to despise every single part of his body, including his scars.

RANDOM HC

He has a small collection of various trinkets hidden in a wooden box beneath his bed. Some of them are old photos with his sister, rocks that he thought they were pretty, keychains that he stole from different gas stations, etc. At first glance it would look just like a pile of crap, but I can assure you everything has a reason to be there.

He was born in Germany but moved to South Carolina when he was 5.

He enjoys listening to music, his favorite genre is old rock. The Rolling Stones, Queen, Van Morrison, Fleetwood Mac, Bon Jovi, Blondu… his favorite song is “Brown eyed Girl” and you can’t change my mind.

He is the softest person when it comes to animals, he feels so bad when he finds any dead animal near the road, and he always gives them a proper burial, he even says some words along the lines of “the world was cruel to you when all you wanted was some warmth”. He so cried with the poem about spiders.

⋆｡°✩ — ©️ reidwitchsblog, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby x oc

[hetaherr]

by the way this was supposed to be a- what songs are on their playlists hc but i got carried away lolol

but here’s like a poorly written version cus i lazy </3

: wanderer hcs

: fluff, crack, angst, a lil suggestive?

bro listens to cigarettes after sex religiously, like take a look at this man and tell me he doesn’t fall asleep thinking about you to sunsetz. i think he focuses a lot on songs with deeper meanings, lyrics mean a lot to him. he’s the typa guy to post a picture of you or your hands or smt like that on his private with a cas song playing in the background. (#mewhen?)

okay being a cas fan definitely means you probably love the neighbourhood too. like duh!!!! midnight drives with kuni and you guys blast the neighbourhood, stopping at gas stations to get ice cream or slushies. he loves to hear you sing, definitely makes comments like “u sound so bad shut up” but he loves that you are so trusting and comfortable with him. he’s also the type to ask “why’d you stop singing?” even though he was complaining about it a minute ago…

this is such a banger. anyway i think he’d have this song on his playlist and it’s just one of those songs that he dreams about you to. like hello? its one of those songs you guys listen to while sharing earphones, holding hands as he sends you home <3

when he plays video games i think mac miller is such a vibe, as he sits in front of the television and you in between his legs he rests his head on your head TT. its so cozy and so peaceful you could fall asleep and sometimes you do, he definitely hears the song congratulations and thinks of you- like you are the embodiment of the piano he hears, so elegant and graceful even as you drool in his arms <3 (not a single day goes by do i not miss mac miller i think of him and i cry.)

help this cover by the marias, kuni thinks of you to this song when he’s so hot and bothered. it’s weirdly sensual and he feels so embarrassed but, i mean its the marias… what do you expect. don’t play this song around him, i mean unless you want to get him a little riled up. ^^

wait wait, dont question it, JUST IMAGINE- KARAOKE?!?! okay sorry :((

#genshin impact #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader

[corneliathegreat]

Stomach's n life presents: ☕ Hungry on the clock!

• ○JN●

• GrrrOOOalll~!

• Jen sighed. Her stomach is still growling. And it was all Cooper's fault. He was pulling on her hair all night, making her wake up late and rush out. She loved her dog to death, but sometimes he can make her so mad.

• GrrrRRRggg...!

• Man, she hates being hungry. (She hates anything that has to with the organ) You feel weird. You get cranky. And your insides makes weird noises. Jen sighed. She could order out, but the thought of something oily for breakfast made her stomach turn.

• Not a pastry either, that would drain her before the day even got started. Maybe, she could head home and make something real quick. French toast would really hit the spot...

• URRRGGG~!

• Shocked, the CEO hugged her middle. It still rumbled, but thankfully, lower this time. She sighed. As much as she did wanna head home, she couldn't. She had a meeting in 20.

• "Dammit..."

• She muttered. Darn her squishy faced pug, making her miss breakfast. It's completely throwing her off. There's always lunch, but... that's a 12. It's 9 now. She has secret stashes of candy, but that would make a terrible breakfast.

• "Ms. Coleman."

• She jumped and turned around. It was just Damian. (Her future successor)

• "Ah, Damian,"

• Jen straightened her self up.

• "I thought I told you to knock."

• He shrugged.

• "Must of forgotten."

• She snickered. Cheeky brat.

• "Anyway, brought some forms you need to sign."

• Of course. A manager can never stay still. As her protege fumbled to get the papers, she was reminded of the emptiness inside her. Her stomach rumbled lowly, bringing back up the subject of breakfast.

• Grrrrr...

• Jen mentally shushed it. It would be SO embarrassing if Damian heard her stomach talking. He'd ask if she was eating enough. Just like her mom! She cleared her throat.

• "Dami-"

• "Did you know Mr. Seal finally got help for his indigestion?"

• Wait? Seal had indigestion? Is that why he used a bunch of his vacation days? He doesn't hate her!? ...Not that she cares or anything.

• "That's interesting."

• She mumbled. Damien beamed.

• "And he treated me to steak yesterday!"

• Annnd the conversation conveniently went to food. Crap.

• "You should been there of been there!"

• "The meat was sooo tender and juicy! And the sides-"

• And, like the foodie he is, he's giving her the run down of his meal yesterday. Of course. Normally, she loves to hear his food rambles, it's help her get work done. But now, it's just angering her stomach. Grumbles riled up inside her, making her worry the sound might escape. If she could just get rid of the boy.

• "And the mac and cheese was absolutely beautiful."

• "It was all cheesy and gooey,"

• Her stomach clenched, grumbling at the thought.

• Rrrrgglll...!

• She shot up from her seat and cleared her throat loudly.

• "Damien,"

• "Can you grab Adam for me?"

• He blinked.

• "Uh, okay."

• He turned on his heels and walked out. The CEO sighed. That was close. Darn her protege and his delicious descriptions of food. Once again, her belly squirmed against her pencil skirt.

• Grrrrglll...rrrrlll~!

• She sighed deeply, as growls filled the room. The moment the meeting is finished, she's getting a croissant sandwich from the gas station. Her stomach's gonna start cramping soon. (And get bubbly)

• GrrRRRrrr~!

• Hopefully, she'll be able to make it through the meeting.

• "So I'm guessing you're crabby cause you're hungry?"

• Adam said, as he walked beside his boss. Jen nodded with a grunt. He chuckled.

• "I told you,"

• "You should just let me dog sit Cooper."

• She scoffs. No way, he wouldn't give him back.

• "Just at night?"

• "No."

• As much as she doesn't wanna admit it, she's super paranoid when it comes to her pug is around other people. They're so many dog snatchers in the world. Who's to say Adam isn't secretly one.

• "Alright, fine. But I have some tips on making your dogs tired."

• She nodded and he opened the door for her. Time for the meeting.

• Rrrrummmblll~!

• Subtlety, she rubbed her stomach. This meeting was going BAD. The moment she walked in, she was hit with the sweet smell of brownies and donuts. Apparently, Bethany made this meeting a mini potluck and everybody brought a baked good. She would've grabbed something, but she didn't want her employees to see her eat....What? It's a rational insecurity.

• Anywho, she settled on a coffee. Little did she know it would make the situation a thousand times worse.

• GrrRRRrrrlll~! Grrrgg...

• It didn't just not quench her hunger. It made her stomach churn and gurgle. Making it known that she digesting the caffeinated beverage. Luckily, Otis (52 year old sales manager) talks pretty loud, so she's in the clear. ...For now.

• "Ms. Coleman."

• She jumped and looked over. It was Bethany.

• "Are you okay?"

• "You look kinda angry."

• Jen cleared her throat.

• "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

• That's one thing people always tell her. 'You look kinda angry' She usually isn't. She just frowns when she's focusing. And right now, she's focusing keeping her darn stomach quiet!

• "Alrighty, Colette. Your turn."

• Otis barked. Jen silently panicked as the pink haired employee walked to the front. You can still hear her, but her voice is still pretty soft.

• Her insides grumbled quietly, reminding her coffee wasn't enough. She can handle it though. It's only 20 minutes left. She'd just has to finally focus on the presentation. Suddenly, she was accosted by the chocolatey aroma of a brownie.

• The CEO twitched and looked around. It was Otis! Dang it, she forgot he likes to heat up chocolate stuff. And he has a stack of 'em... A prolonged growl shook inside her belly, threatening to come out. Her eyes flicked to the clock. 16 minutes left. She can handle it!

• 5 minutes later...

• Jen's guts were rebelling hard. Grumbling ever couple seconds, cramping at different times, and trying to add nausea. Like, what the hell! It's like it's going crazy because it's so little time left. She only had 11 minutes left.

• Suddenly, her stomach churned. The coffee move as well. A bubbly, growl squeezed out.

• GrrrRRR~!

• Her blood ran cold. She could feel it. A big one was coming! She checked her watch. 7 minutes. Come on, Colette! Her insides are gonna blow soon!

• "And finally, I'd like to thank Ms. Coleman,"

• The blonde said, sweetly.

• "For hearing us out and letting use this meeting room."

• Jen's stomach squelched, getting ready to interject.

• Urrrgg...

• She forced a smile. 5 minutes.

• "Does anyone have any have closing statements,"

• PLEASE, no one have any closing statements!

• Rrrrwlll...!

• Almost there!

• "Ms. Coleman?"

• She froze. All eyes were on her. She didn't know what to say. She was so busy with her with her empty bread basket, that she didn't pay attention. She cleared her throat.

• "Um,"

• Her stomach bubbled furiously under the skin. Crap, what was she gonna do?!

• Suddenly, the smoke alarm sounded. Nearly making everyone's ears bleed. The door opened.

• "Everyone clear out!"

• It was Seal! Wait...was there actually any fire? Everyone raced outta the room, including Jen. After it shut off, (cause it was "false" alarm) she felt exhausted. She's tired. She almost had a panic attack. And her ears hurt. A painful grumble emitted from her stomach.

• Grrrglll...!

• "Hungry?"

• She jumped and turned. Oh great, it's her handsome assistant. Seal. She wrapped her arms around her belly.

• "Don't worry, I didn't actually hear anything."

• "Adam told me"

• She covered her face, now feeling super embarrassed.

• ''And before you freak out, he just noticed your mannerism changed."

• "Oh."

• Silence settled in between the two. Ah! She has to say something before her stomach does. She cleared her throat.

• "So what do need, Montgomery?"

• (That's Seal's last name)

• He snickered.

• "To take you out."

• Jen blushed. She must've looked pissed because he changed his tune.

• "Just because you're hungry"

• "It's not a date or anything."

• She cursed in her head. Dang it, why didn't she just say yes? She wouldn't mind if it was a date

• "Okay then."

• She replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Seal smiled and took her hand.

• "I know the perfect steakhouse we can go to."

• Out of nowhere, her stomach snarled loudly.

• GRRRRRRRGGGG~!

• Glllll...!

• Jen quickly hugged her growling midsection.

• "Woah, girl,"

• Seal joked.

• "We're gonna eat soon."

I was originally supposed to post this before the Fall stress outs, but it's here and waiting! This one was fun and I'm glad I added a few other characters. (And Seal.) Hopefully they'll show up again.

(And I don't own these dividers.)

#JN #hunger fic #hunger kink #stomach grumbling #stomach growling #stomach ache fic #couples #belly k!nk #sickfic #my ocs #corneliathegreat

[delopsia]

🍗 i haven’t written anything in like a thousand years but i really hope these are the type of abnormal headcanons you were looking for!

rhett is “whatever they had at the gas station” but make it crunchy. cowboy seems like a snacker to the max, like, the only meal this man ever really wants to eat or cares about eating is whatever cecilia makes for dinner. this is a man who gets up before dawn and can’t even think about food before eleven (never mind actually having any time to sit and eat a real breakfast most days) and when he does it’s never from a plate; grazing like a gazelle type eats. maybe around eleven-thirty he’ll hit up a pouch of trail mix or something. he actually likes raisins thank you very much and definitely prefers honey nut sweet n’ salty chex mix to any of that fake m&m or chocolate chip addition weirdness. when he’s not absentmindedly crushing a family sized bag of jalapeño cheetos, spicy honey mustard combos, or old faithful (pork rinds), he can be found stealing bites from whatever you’re eating whether you’re into it in the beginning or not. the first time it happened a few months into your relationship you almost caught his wrist with your fork and looked at him like he was out of his goddamn mind. “i asked you if you were hungry...” you explain when his brows furrow into that cute ass grumpy puppy emoji face he swears he doesn’t do. he just sighs and tucks back into the booth seat across from you on his phone and lets you eat it in peace... but you can’t stop thinking about it and this and him and before you know it you’re cutting a good bite of pancakes off the stack and holding it up to him. those big blue irises flick up, a little smile tugs at his lips before he opens wide and hums in delight at the soft buttery syrupy diner brunch. rhett tries not to look like the cowboy who caught the flapjack when you ask for another set of cutlery.

okay... i’d say my beloved bobby is the complete opposite: a real meal kinda guy. he’s southern and eats like it (affectionate). he likes it all: spicy, sweet, finger-lickin’, hearty, comfortably full-bellied, might think about taking a nap afterwards type eats. barbecues, (i don’t headcanon bob as being religious so maybe post mission dagger squad potlucks with his mama and sister recipes that he he picked up over the years), holidays, etc. but back to the matter at hand, i can totally see him being fast food chicken sandwich fiend. if the place he finds himself in has one he’ll try it. he doesn’t believe any place has The Best chicken sandwich because that’s his mama's all day everyday and there’s absolutely no competition. but they’re all pretty good in their own way regardless. when he’s home on leave and gets the inevitable craving for a mcdonald’s chicken sandwich specifically, it’s a bit of a production. you were with him one of these times and off you went to find the ol’ golden arches. he was polite as pie in the drive thru because of course and when he asks for extra napkins at the end you suspect they actually gave them because of it. he parks in the back corner of the lot like teenagers and you feel a little giddy. he kisses you and starts unloading the bag; his two crispy chicken sandwiches and a quarter pounder with mac sauce and cheese. they actually put extra mayo and pickles on both of his sandwiches which surprised you and you’re about to say as much when he opens them up to stack them together arranging the pickles and all between the sturdier looking of the two buns. you try not to get distracted when he licks the mayo from his fingertips and asks of you could uncap the bottle of hot sauce right there “please, darlin’” and when you look down as if it magically appeared there sat a small half-finished bottle of frank’s red hot xtra. you jokingly call him crazy as he heavy-hands the liquid cayenne onto the sandwich and just about unhinges his jaw to take a bite. he nods, chews and says “but that’s why ya love me...” like he wants you to mean it but also like he could let it roll off like a joke. you stare at his side profile as starts going as red as his hot sauce. “yeah,” you whisper, an thread of finality weaving through your words, “that’s why i love ya.”

!! oh this was so cute to read; I literally had walk out the room and get my head on straight because I started melting midway through. I love every word you've said😭

Rhett, the food thief! I never even thought about it until you mentioned it; there's no way he isn't one. The first time we even see him in the show, we literally watch him walk in and steal a piece of Amy's bacon. What's to stop him from reaching over and stealing a piece of your food? I rest my case, your honor 💃

I love love the headcanon of him being a snacker that just grazes all day. Eats one meal a day but has countless snacks before and after. Probably keeps them hidden, too, because there's nothing more annoying than looking for a snack that someone's already eaten. The pork rinds are in the glove box; the trail mix is hidden in the tack room. You're only aware of this because you walked into the shed and found him pulling that bag of jalapeño Cheetos out of what's supposed to be a toolbox. As soon as he sees you, he just...quietly looks at the bag, then back to you, holds it out, and goes, "do you want one?"

So that's how you wind up as a member of the Hidden-Snack Alliance™

Now that you've said it, I can't unsee it. Bob. Sweet, sweet bob who could eat an entire horse and still be hungry. The type of guy that finishes your food for you when you're full and don't want to take the leftovers home. He doesn't even have to ask after a while; all you have to do is give him a short nod. Leftovers? Not on Robert's watch.

Do you think he has a list? Because I feel like he's got a whole list on his phone, ranked from best to worst, with detailed reasons why, and it's always changing, but it always says "Moms :)" in the #1 slot. "Bob, is the chicken sandwich from here any good?" "Only if you like getting food poisoning, sweetheart."

Kisses!! before he ever touches his food! I have left the building, never to be seen again. He straight-up has his own "secret menu" item AND has the Frank's Red Hot Xtra on standby. If you look hard enough, there's probably a gallon container of it in the back of the cabinet, and he just refills the same bottle over and over.

He's crazy, but most importantly, he's crazy for you.

#i am GONE i have PASSED AWAY #this is my favorite thing i have ever received #How are we supposed to live laugh love without these two men?? #if tumblr's post editor crashes one more time i will PERSONALLY drive to their headquarters and take a bite out of the first person i see #rhett abbott #bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #rhett abbott headcanons #robert bob floyd headcanons #bob floyd headcanons #delgato's asks

[slasherhoe87]

🌹Loving Michael🥀

Chapter 3

Link to Masterlist with all chapters so far: https://www.tumblr.com/slasherhoe87/711619549600137216/loving-michael?source=share

OG Michael x Female Reader

Two mornings after Michael and your escapade at the old Pickens factory you stood in front of your stove making chocolate chip flapjacks for Michael.

Your man had an insatiable sweet tooth and really, the palette of a child.

He didn't want oatmeal for breakfast - he wanted Lucky Charms cereal. He didn't want a chicken salad for lunch - he wanted mac & cheese or a plain cheesy pizza. He didn't want grilled salmon for dinner - he wanted spaghetti & meatballs or lasagna.

You smiled fondly as you flipped over the flapjack before looking up at the wall clock. Good, you thought - you still had quite some time before having to leave for work. You'd thought you would be running late as Michael had insisted on cuddling before you got up, however cuddling turned in to lazy morning sex - as was common with the two of you.

Just as you placed the last of Michael's flapjacks onto a plate you noticed a shape out of the corner of your eye. Turning to look, your heart jumped in your throat with fright.

"Michael!"

Fright gave way to annoyance with no real anger behind it. After living with one another for a full two years, your lurking lover still managed to scare you with his unexpected appearances.

Your frown turned to a smile as he stalked forward to the kitchen table - silent and expressionless as ever.

You took the plate of chocolate chip pancakes, a can of whipped cream and some sliced fruit and placed it in front of him. You leaned down and kissed his forehead (thankful that he had worked through his touch aversion)

While pouring yourself a cup of coffee to have with your toast you look up and out of your kitchen window to see the familiar beige station-wagon drive slowly up the street.

Loomis - your mind spat with anger.

The biggest quack in psychiatry. A man who you thought himself should be locked up in Smith's Grove.

To spend less than a couple of months with a troubled child and deem him evil incarnate - the fuck!? His obsession with Michael was downright creepy.

Every other day before or after work, or when out on errands you would notice him driving about Haddonfield looking for Michael. Yeah, keep wasting money on gas asshole, you'll never get Michael - not while I'm still breathing.

Evil incarnate doesn't smile. Evil incarnate doesn't cuddle or give tender hugs. Evil incarnate doesn't show vulnerability with unshed tears in its eyes as it seeks out comfort away from the dark places in its mind. Evil incarnate doesn't make love or spoil its lover with tender kisses.

You were getting riled up... your thoughts moving onto an even bigger hatred of yours: Laurie fucking Strode. The bitch who thinks she's the 'final girl' of her own damn movie. Michael had intended to kill her only because she had trespassed onto his property - he was not obsessed with her like Laurie believed (or wanted to believe) and when he couldn't kill her due to her own dumb luck he moved on to his next kills.

But Haddonfield is not a large town and for the past two halloweens when Laurie would catch a glimpse of Michael stalking the town she was convinced Michael was after her. He wasn't. You ain't that special, Laurie. And because she believed she was final girl of the century she would go after Michael and try and kill him.

Thanks to this bitch, Michael's one eye is damaged - his vision in the eye mostly still intact but the physical scarring is prominent and he a had big raised, puckered scar on his neck from where she had stabbed him.

Luck seems to be firmly on her side as Michael just can't seem to end her annoying existence. You wished she would just leave Michael alone or if Michael could just finally kill her and be done with it. Then all you had to worry about was Loony Loomis.

You felt a pair of strong, protective arms snake around your waist. Michael placed his chin atop your shoulder and squeezed your waist gently, silently asking what was troubling you.

You sighed and turned to face him, your palms rested against his pecs, his hands still holding you.

"Loomis drove past again" you spat out.

Michael's gaze darkened briefly, a flash of anger struck across his expressive stormy blue eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I won't let him take you back to Smith's Grove, Michael. I won't let him take you away from me. I'll kill him before I let that happen" you promise this to Michael, your voice steel with resolve. Michael holds you against him tighter, you look up into his eyes - his own darkening again as he drinks all of you in - your words increasing his love and obsession for/over you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later at work that day you were sat in your office staring out in to the shopping isles of the small hardware store that you were manager of - your mind thinking on nothing other than Michael's pursuers.

You didn't know what you would do if Loomis managed to catch Michael and send him back to Smith's Grove or if Laurie fucking Strode actually succeeded in killing Michael. Your blood boiled at the thought. That just couldn't happen. You intended to keep your promise to Michael. You would kill to keep him with you - because a life without Michael didn't seem to be much of a life at all - he had you by the heart, his grip unrelenting - he was it for you. There could never be anybody else.

Tearing your thoughts away from those to loons lest your blood pressure skyrocket you decided to go to the front desk and chat to Len, the cashier for a bit - he was always pleasant, light hearted conversation - just what you needed.

After chatting for a bit with Len, you felt a bit better, a little lighter. Grateful that he was a very easy conversationalist.

Just as you were about to turn back and head to your office the bell that alerted you to new customers jingled above the opening door. You turned with a smile ready to greet the customer when you felt your heart sink, your blood heat and your smile turn to a grimace.

In swept Laurie fucking Strode with that cool-girl casualness of hers and that barely there easy smile.

She didn't know that you were Michael's girlfriend - in fact you were pretty sure that she firmly believed Michael was incapable having a girlfriend or any feelings for another, whether familial or romantic to begin with.

She greeted you and Len after looking over her shoulder three times, nervous eyes scanning outside for any signs of Michael no doubt - God! You're doing this to yourself bitch - self fulfilling prophecy! You shouted internally.

Jim, the salesman who generally helped the potential customers was off sick for a day or two so you had to, unfortunately step in and assist.

"Can I help you, miss?" You ask with the friendliest tone you can muster and tight smile.

She looks over the aisles of stock typical to a hardware store and shook her head smiling back at you, oblivious to your strained demeanour.

"No, I'm good. I know what I'm after. Thanks though, I'll shout if I need help" and off she sauntered, disappearing behind the shelves.

You sniffed and leaned against the counter, hoping she'd hurry the fuck up so she could get the fuck out of your store.

Eventually after what felt like hours, Laurie returned to the front desk, a basket full of paraphernalia. Rope, pliers, a machete, bowie knife, gardening gloves, a mallet and other bits and bobs that could be used for nefarious purposes.

You thin your lips, eyes scanning the gear she places on the counter for Len to assist with.

"Quite an array of tools there... planning to kill someone?" You ask, voice steady and just teetering on the edge of knowing accusation and inquisitive humor.

Laurie looked up at you, mouth slightly agape. She swallowed hard before glancing out of the store's window once more and fumbling with her purse to retrieve her cash - dramatic.

"Uh, hehe, no... just some renovations needing to be done at home" she replies back in a somewhat shaky voice.

Renovations my ass.

"Hmm" is all you respond with. "Well, good luck and thanks for buying at Miller's Hardware" you pleasantly spout out as you turn on your heel and head back into your office.

Plopping down heavily onto your office chair you rub your temples as you feel a horrible headache blooming. You just knew fucking Laurie Croft was ready to take on Michael again this Halloween, which was unfortunately on 5 days away.

Sighing, you stop rubbing your temples as your cellphone buzzes on your desk. You lean over to see whose calling you.

It was your mom.

"Hey ma, how are you and dad doing?" you ask, smiling at the welcome distraction.

Your mom sniffled on the other end of the phone and you instantly sat up straight, worry furrowing your brows.

"Honey, you're gonna have to come home. Your dad... h-h he's had a stroke and I don't think I'll be able to handle him alone"

Your breath hitched and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Your poor dad!

"Don't worry mom... I'll leave tonight - the drive will take about 4 hours" I say as I start cleaning up the office and pack everything away.

"No, I don't want you driving at night, baby. Your dad is stable and will only be out of hospital in a few days... take your time. Sort out what you have to over there, then come through. I- I'm so sorry for upending your life there in Haddonfield honey... but we need you home" Your mom choked out, her voice trembling on the other end.

"Don't feel bad mom. You're my parents, I'll do anything for you. I'll phone Larry tonight so that he can get a temporary manager in, then I'll sort everything else out and leave as soon as I can, ok?"

"Ok honey, see you soon. Drive safe"

After she hung up you let the tears fall down your face. Damn it. Just when you were settling nicely into Haddonfield - this being your third year here. But no matter... whether this move is temporary or more permanent you didn't care. Your parents needed you and you would be there for them no matter.

All of a sudden as though being hit in the face with a frying pan you thought of Michael.

"Michael! Shit!" You place your head in your hands and groan.

Well... let's hope he's ready for a trip as you will NOT leave him in Haddonfield with Loony Loomis and Laurie fucking Strode creeping about.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 4 coming soon

#og michael myers #og michael x reader #michael myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slasher fucker #slasher community #slasher fic #slashers

[theveryfires]

in hindsight | eddie munson x reader

summary: if eddie munson knew two things about his life, it was this. one he was utterly in love with his best friend, two, he was definitely going to die.

a/n: back to my regularly scheduled crushing eddie munson fic. ALSO i have tried a different writing style for this one, so let me know if it works or if theres anything i can do better! as always i hope you enjoy my silly little fic ;)

Eddie Munson knew two things for certain, number one he was undeniably, completely and utterly in love with you. And number two, he was going to die. 

He had fallen in love with you slowly. He had always imagined it being like the movies, that he would see someone and instantly know they were meant to be together. Stupidly, he had been waiting for that moment to happen, completely oblivious to the millions of times a day he fell a little bit more for his best friend. 

You had transferred half way through middle school after your parents broke up. He had watched you trip over your words as you introduced yourself to the class, twirling your hair and staring at the floor rather then facing the room of strangers. You had worn flares, instantly letting him know you maybe weren’t going to be like every other dick in school. The only other empty seat was next to him, and for once someone didn’t wince when they realised they had to put up with him for a semester. You were oblivious to the rumours, the nicknames the endless bullying. He would learn you wouldn’t of cared even if you did, you weren’t like that. 

At lunch he had watched you sit alone, politely declining joining Jason and his idiot friends with a dead look behind your eyes. Eddie had almost snorted chocolate milk when he noticed, the dejected and confused looks on the jocks faces the most entertaining thing since one of the younger kids had dropped spaghetti all over Jason by accident. It had been in the second he had decided you needed, had a god given right to become his right hand man. Eddie hadn’t gone into your friendship head over heels in love with you. It had crept up slowly on him, until it so suddenly had consumed him. 

You were kind. Above all things, the sarcasm and heavy wit, you were kind. He had admired the way you always stopped to help someone, holding doors or being a shoulder to cry on to anyone that needed it. You loved films and music. You were obsessed with Rocky Horror, dressing up as Meatloaf for Halloween and laughing so hard you fell to the floor when he appeared from his trailer as Dr Frankenfurter. You were always humming along to some tune that was playing in your mind, the lyrics of the greats, Elvis, the Stones, Fleetwood Mac, Queen, Bowie, Metallica. You weren’t chained down to one genre, you didn’t confine yourself in any box and it made his head spin with how much you just knew about stuff. On every movie night without fail you would chirp in with fun facts, whisper all the lines to the Breakfast Club, hand in the air and crying by the end. You didn’t care about keeping up appearances with him, he could tell you felt comfortable around him. He saw you in no makeup and pyjamas more than he saw you dressed up. Spending whole weekends on the sofa or lying in one another beds, listening to music or watching day time tv. 

He liked that he could just be quiet, not have to constantly spout off about something or show off. With you he wasn’t ‘Eddie Munson’, he was just Eddie. Some nights you would persuade him to take part in your night time routine. Painting his face with a clay face mask, braiding his hair back with a much needed oil treatment. You had introduced him to the wonders of moisturiser, of too hot showers and a good muscle relaxing body wash. You had bought him his first ever expensive shampoo and conditioner, treated him to department store cologne instead of the one he got at the gas station. When you came into his life, Eddie had felt himself become a better version go whoever he had been before. He loved those nights, even subjecting himself to listening to the girlie music you played. His face and turned a beet red when you caught him singing along to ABBA, your jaw dropping as you squealed and pulled him up from his position on your bed. “I knew it! I knew you liked them! It was only a matter of time Eddie, everyone loves ABBA!” He had tackled you to the floor, the pair of you play fighting until he had you pinned and your breathe was mingling. He eyes had been dark, you could hear his heart hammering when he leaned down “Don’t tell a soul, or i’ll tell Gareth and Jeff…” But he couldnt think of a thing, you were an open book and you knew it. Smirking up at him, using that brief second of hesitation to pin him to the floor. “I have no skeletons in my closet, unlike youuu, Fernando.” You had winked and it had sent Eddie into overdrive, not that you noticed. 

You listened to him, all his rants and raves about the dead end town and the life he wanted after graduation. He hadn’t realised he had included you in those dreams. Just assuming you would always be by his side. Stealing his cheesy fries, wiping your greasy hands on him after. Twirling his curls when you were reading, stealing his jumpers on colder days and head banging along to his music on the way to school. He ran through his campaigns with you, grinning when you played along with him. Pretending to be various characters as you paraded around his trailer, face contorting into various expressions, looking to him for approval every now and then as you acted out various scenes. 

Eddie had realised how bad it was one day in the cafeteria. You hadn’t done anything out of the norm, no scene stealing moment that should of set his heart aflame. Everything had just suddenly clicked, it all made sense and it had stopped Eddie’s heart. 

You had your headphones on, trying desperately to finish a essay and block out the noise of the cafeteria. He had been talking to Dustin and Mike about something, whipping himself into a dramatic frenzy when something had caught his attention. He had felt funny the whole day, the weird feeling starting when he had picked you up that morning. You were wearing your usual flares, a long sleeve black crop top that showed a sinful inch of your midriff. Your hair was down, nothing new. Maybe your makeup was different, the eyeliner smokier than usual. Maybe it was your perfume, something he had found increasingly difficult to resist or ignore. You had smiled brightly as always, but it had made his chest hurt, like someone was gripping his heart and forcing it to beat out of rhythm. 

He hadn’t felt it since leaving you for your first classes, but then when he saw you again the feeling had rushed over him all over again. He had watched as you clipped your hair up, several curls falling and framing your face as you scribbled furiously, Whatever Dustin had been babbling about became unimportant. The sound that had distracted him in the first place surrounded him, you were singing. He had heard you sing before, yelling away in the shower, humming lowly as you made breakfast, screaming along with him to the radio in his car. But this felt different, your voice was low, breaking in and out as you tried to focus. Eddie had frozen in his spot, trying desperately to listen to what you were singing along to under a bated breath. It was The Stones, as always. ‘Can’t You Hear me Knocking’ leaking out of your headphones due to the music being turned up so high. 

Eddie had felt something powerful hit him. He was convinced there was an arrow in his chest for the rest of the day, his blood leading a trail to you. For the rest of the week he couldnt act normal around you. Suddenly everything that had come so easy felt scripted, forced. He didn’t know how to act around you anymore, every hug or nudge or nap you took against him set his entire body aflame. He hated it, now so intensely vulnerable to someone that appeared oblivious to his fumbling. 

And now here he was. Just two weeks ago he had realised he loved you, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. He didn’t care what he did, if he was famous or just stuck in a dead end job and a trailer. As long as he had you he hadn’t cared. And now, well now none of it mattered. 

Eddie was struggling to breathe, begging Dustin to take you back home, begging you to let him go as your hands scrambled to find purchase on his wound ridden body. He was bleeding and it was bad, you both knew it. Dustin had tried but you had forced his hands off of you, apologies lost in the mad rush back to Eddie. “Please, you need to go Princess.” He had pleaded with you once more, blood spurting out his mouth as he forced himself to talk. His grip on you growing weaker by the second. But you refused to, shaking your head furiously and refusing to let him die alone. “I can’t I…what am i gonna do…i can’t do this without you Eddie.” You couldnt stop crying, an unbearable feeling gripping you, a arrow in your back and a trail of blood leading to him. 

He had closed his eyes when your hands had stroked through his curls, trying to wipe away the grime that coated his face. “Why couldnt you just stick to the plan!” You were furious, yelling at him through broken sobs when he had tried to smile despite the pain. “I never was one for rules.” 

A bittersweet laugh had racked through you, hands holding his jacket tighter and tighter, not ready to go, to let him go. 

But you were running out of time, you needed to get back through the gate and Dustin was yelling at you through his own tears. You had held Eddie tighter, pressing your face into his neck as gently as you could, shaking with grief when he used all his strength to pat your head gently.

“God this sucks.” He had groaned, the pain hitting a steep crescendo. You had held him tighter, wanting to tell him so much without any of the words to say it. “This isn't how i wanted...how i wanted to tell you but...christ...I…I love you. I should of told you sooner…. in hindsight” Eddie Munson’s heart stopped twice that day, all within a few minutes of each other as he willed whatever higher power there was to give him this one blessing. And just as the darkness started to wrap around him, as the image of the girl he loved began to fade away, her screams following as Dustin and Steve dragged her away, he heard her cry out. “I love you too Eddie, I always will.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #hurt #big fat hurt in this one queens #stranger things #joseph quinn #angst #very big ouchie girlies

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Robin Buckley/ Female OC

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 1,097

Summary: Robin is struggling to cope when her first love suddenly leaves her heartbroken and lonely.

Inspired by the song Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer

Robin Buckley Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

~~~~~

Suddenly driving home on Cherry wasn't the easiest route for Robin. It was still the quickest. But it was also the most heart wrenching. She'd have to drive past the Cherry Street playground. She just couldn't. Not anymore. Not since she was gone.

She'd tried, a few weeks after the girl she thought she'd grow old with called it quits. But as she parked her car all she saw were memories. The old swings where they'd shared beers stolen from their parents. The jungle gym under which they'd had their first kiss. The rickety old merry-go-round that they'd laid on, late into the night last summer telling each other everything. Well, almost everything.

And now, months later, it was no easier. The Cherry Street playground was just one stop on a list of places that Robin used to love, but now avoided like the plague. The old, one room schoolhouse on Dohoney road. Mac's gas station. Forest Hills trailer park. The seedy bar 20 miles out of town that never carded minors. That one was, admittedly, easier to avoid than the rest.

Some mornings as she drove to work, all she thought about was her. She thought about her laugh. She thought about their first kiss. She thought about their last kiss. If she'd known it would be their last, she would have done a better job of memorizing how her lips felt. She would have committed to memory everything about the moment. But as it was, all she could remember was the taste of the fresh raspberries she'd eaten.

All of her friends avoided the subject of the break up. They knew how hard it has been for Robin. It was easy to see how raw it still was, even months later. But she would come up in conversation occasionally. In a town like Hawkins, where everybody knew everything about everyone, it was bound to happen.

They'd say that she was doing well. They'd say that she seemed happy with him. It cut like a dagger every time. Like a brand new wound when the old ones weren't even healed yet.

Robin often wondered if she was really happy. She wondered if she'd actually found everything she was looking for in the arms of some boy on the basketball team. She liked to think, probably foolishly, that she was secretly just as unhappy as Robin was. She pictured her pulling out the little notes Robin had written her while they were together. She wondered if she still had them at all, if she still read them when she missed her like Robin did. But she knew that that probably wasn't the case. She knew that she had somehow moved on.

But how? How could she go from stolen kisses with Robin to profound acts of love in the hallways with that guy? That was the part that kept Robin's broken heart festering in her chest day after day. Was it a lie? Did Robin imagine it all? It just didn't make sense to her that after everything they shared together, she could be fine without her. Because Robin was definitely not fine. Not at all.

She would lie awake in bed at night replaying the moment her world seemed to stop. The moment that she ended things. She'd started crying as she explained that she was leaving. In the moment, Robin was angry. But now as she thought back to it, she wanted to be angry but all she could think about was the way her mascara looked as it ran down her face. The way it streaked before the lines met beneath her chin.

She couldn't keep her mind from wandering during school. She thought so often about all the plans they'd made for after they graduated. They'd move to the coast for college. Rent a little house, maybe they'd get a cat. Endless trips around the world had been planned during late night phone calls and stolen moments during study halls. But it seemed that Robin was the only one who still yearned so desperately for those things. The girl who'd broken her heart didn't seem to need them anymore.

The nights she was able to cry herself to sleep seemed merciful. And Robin supposed they were, in comparison. The nights that she ran out of tears but still couldn't sleep were the hardest. She'd stare at her ceiling with blurry eyes, praying to whatever entity might be listening that she would wake up and not remember. Amnesia, Steve had called it.

It was easier to hope once she had a word for it. Amnesia. A partial or total loss of memory, according to Miriam Webster. That's what she wanted. She wanted to wake up with amnesia and not remember anything. She wanted to forget every stupid little thing that seemed to be on a never ending loop on her mind. Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to her in her bed, the same bed that now felt like it swallowed her whole amongst its linens.

But that wouldn't happen. It wasn't possible. And as she lay awake night after night, she knew that she wasn't okay. The girl who'd ripped her beating heart from her chest seemed to be just fine. But Robin wasn't fine. Not at all.

The same box that held all the notes Robin had kept also held the photos. Blurry polaroids with hearts on the borders. A crisp, clean shot Jonathan had snapped at one of Steve's pool parties. Robin had admitted to Nancy one night that she did still pull them out some days. She admitted that she liked to see them. She liked to see how happy she used to be, even if they made her feel even more alone.

As the days wore into months her friends tried to pull her out of her self induced isolation. They'd invite her out. They'd offer to come to her. But she preferred solitude, at least for now. They all asked the question that she thought they should know the answer to by now.

Why hasn't she been around? The truth was that being around was painful. It was like an emotional hurt that echoed from her chest into physical pain at the mention of her name. It hurt to hear that she was happy. It hurt to know that she's moved on. It really just hurt to hear her name when Robin hasn't seen her for so long.

It hurt that she seemed to be fine. Because Robin was definitely not fine. Not at all.

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine @renaissan-vvitch

#robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x reader #Spotify

[greenreticule]

The Important Thing Is That You Are Fed

There's a Twitter thread that has long since been lost to me. I've tried finding it again and again, but it's either been deleted or I've gotten the phrasing just off enough for it to slip through my searches.

But it genuinely revolutionized my relationship to food.

The friends I had in college, and the way they always always went on about tracking calories and moralizing food (and then my mom going on a diet around that time too, which affected my ability to eat at home), in addition to me just trying to stretch a budget... well... I began moralizing food too.

I couldn't buy some simple, cheap microwave meal. How lazy and unhealthy of me! I shouldn't buy the snacks that I would actually eat because I wanted to. I should get the gross "healthy" snacks. If I snacked at all. Because THAT costs money; how dare I spend more money on anything that is not the peak of health and nutrition?

It was also hell when it was my turn in the shared apartment to make dinner for everyone, because the couldn'ts and shouldn'ts became that much louder.

I internalized so much shame around the food I wanted to eat, the food that actually would make me feel full and warm. I carried that for years.

And then this one Twitter thread crossed my timeline. Written by someone chronicling how they much they missed cooking these extravagant, healthy meals, but depression got in the way. How they had been raised by a dad who loved to cook, but working long hours just to get food to the table at all often meant buying fast food on the way home.

And the repeated line in this thread was something akin to "the important thing was that I was fed."

Depression meal? The important thing is that they were fed.

Fast food? The important thing is that they were fed.

A full homemade dinner? The important thing is that they were fed.

That instantly became my mantra.

As I moved into a new stage of my life; living on my own; not always having the time or energy to make a fancy, balanced dinner; not always having the time to make the sort of breakfast that would actually get me through the day; I began telling myself that phrase.

Frozen meal? The important thing is that I was fed.

Greasy gas station sandwich? The important thing is that I was fed.

McDonalds for lunch the fourth time this week? The important thing is that I was fed.

Easy Mac, a slice of fucking cake, a can of knock-off Spaghettios? The important thing is that I was fed.

So thank you, Twitter user that I have lost to the void, for reminding me of the most important thing about food.

#the important thing is that you are fed #greenreticule life

[wh0lemilk0vich]

I would literally sell my soul to hear your headcanons about chubby!stoner!Eddie 🥵 if you have any!

I might need more back and forth to solidify my thoughts but I can ramble about a couple things.

1. Looks absolutely indecent in his clothes. Everything is beautifully tight and clinging and like every shake of his belly or tits or ass is obvious. He has pudge poking through the distressed holes in his jeans. Just too much boy in not enough denim. At a certain point he has to start using a rubber band through the button hole and around the button or they'd just be completely open then again they might be so tight that they just stay up that way, and maybe he's got belly to hide it. He'd be in a leather or denim jacket that's just for the aesthetic; doesn't really close anymore.

2. He's an absolute garbage disposal when he's baked. No pantry is safe. He definitely makes meal concoctions like crazy grilled cheeses, and doubles up boxes of Kraft Mac and cheese, doused in hot sauce, mixing in whatever else seems good. That's after he's already housed a large pizza he had delivered, and wings, and a two liter soda. Then when his sweet tooth kicks in, he heads to a gas station for a box of whatever hostess item he can get his hands on, or honey buns. And why not get a little crossfaded with a six pack of beers, or a flask sized bottle of vodka.

3. When he's been fucking around all day in his trailer and Steve comes back and finds him lazy, glutted, and giggly, absentmindedly rubbing his gut, he just has a magnetism. And like FUCK I want him coaching Steve through his first blowjob, hand fisting his "perfect" floppy hair, and praising him so much, telling him what a good boy he is, explaining exactly how he likes to be worshipped. And Steve would be a little nervous because he doesn't have experience with other boys and Eddie for sure does (big Bi energy), but he's really patient and encouraging and then later he can start getting Steve more kinky.

Those are my ideas! Thoughts? Responses? 😂

#stranger things #chubby stoner #chubby stoner Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson

[gcnedark]

Bitten.

Characters: Miles Ive, Sev Voorhees, Rose Leo, Warburton Colt

No cw/tws

•

•

•

•

•

This was fucking agonizing.

Miles could swear that he was heating up from the inside, it burned, he craved for some kind of relief to his pain. And that's why he had practically started to race back to home base when his bite mark started burning.

He'd been bitten before, they all had! It was practically impossible to not get bitten at some point in the apocalypse, but this was different. His bites hadn't made him feel like he was running a fever, he damn near passed out on his feet in the gas station he'd been ransacking.

There was no car he could even use to get back, so he just ran. Down the street, past the undead and up the hill to the church. Warburton was the one who saw him through his sniper scope, his initial reaction had been a slight hint of joy. Ive hadnt gotten himself killed, but as he got closer and he could get a better sight on him, he was filled with dread and worry.

"Miles is back!" He called out, catching the attention of Sev first. Warburton knew the moment Sev saw Miles like this, bloody and clutching his shoulder as he ran, that he'd go into a panic... Not like there was any way around it. "The guy looks fucked up! Damn near stumbling, someone get out there and help him, will you?!"

He didn't even need to finish that sentence before Sev burst through the gate, normally he'd be cautious of the noise it'd make but at this moment all rational thought had been tossed out of the window. He ran as fast as he could down the trail to get to Miles, nearly tripping and falling himself.

"Mierda- Qué diablos te pasó?!" Sev yelled out, getting close enough to Miles so he could wrap an arm around him, "I.. I dunno what you're sayin'.." Miles mumbled, struggling just to keep himself up at this point. Sev grumbled before speaking again, "I said, what the hell happened to you?"

"You think this is bad? You should see what I did to those zeds.." Miles wheezed out in a pathetic attempt of a laugh, he had wanted to try and calm down Sev just a little bit, but it very clearly didn't work. If anything, it caused him to panic more. "Whyre you holdin' your shoulder like that, doll?" Sev asked as they went through the entrance, catching the attention of the other survivors.

Miles didn't want to show what had happened, he was terrified to do so. Sure, he was one of their leaders, but the keyword there was one. They could be fine with just killing him for most likely being infected, and just letting Mac take over fully. And sure, that thought was probably a mix of paranoia along with the stress of being fucking bitten, but it was still something he thought he should be genuinely concerned about.

He was so lost in his own thoughts and paranoia that he didn't notice he was already being laid down on a bed in the infirmary, a part of the base he always hated but knew it needed to be there. It wasn't that he didn't find it useful, it was just his fear of infirmaries, hospitals, etcetera etcetera.

"Miles," Sev spoke up, getting Miles back into reality. "Put your hand down." It wasn't really asking him to do so, it was more so simply telling him flat out. He was barely thinking as he lowered his hand, Sev squinted when he saw the bite mark. "..okay, y'got bitten." He shrugged, seeming a lot less tense. Sev attempted to step away before being stopped.

"Wait, wait-" Miles grunted, reaching out and grabbing onto Sevs wrist. "A blood plague one got me.. I feel like I'm running a damn fever here, nearly passed out..." As he explained just what he was going through, the worry and panic in the shorter male spiked back up. "Shit, why didn't you say that in the first place?!"

"I didn't.. I'm- I was..." He tried to say that he was scared of what the others would do if they learned, and considering how small this place was? He had to guess that the others already heard what was going on. But something in him wouldn't let him say what he wanted to, it pissed him off.

"What, you were what?" Sev pulled over a nearby chair to sit down, it dragged and squeaked against the floor as it moved. He was going to attempt to squeeze out the information that he could from Miles, but he was stopped by Rose, who grabbed onto his shoulder to make herself known. "He's infected."

That wasn't something either one of them wanted to hear, but it was the blunt truth. "What do you feel, Miles?" She asked, stepping next to Sev and crossing her arms. "Fever, shaky, I've been pretty outta it since I got bit.. my blood feels like it's on fire.." He whimpered, glancing down at his bite mark.

Silence.

"Am I really infected?" He asked softly, looking up at Rose. "Yeah." She nodded, the look of fear in his eyes was enough to even make her feel bad. But Rose knew she couldn't just bullshit him right now, he needed to know what was happening to him. "Well, why didn't the other bites do anything?" Sev questioned, looking over to her.

"They did," Rose began. "If it's from a zombie who's got the blood plague, their bites and scratches infect you overtime. And since Miles here has been fighting them constantly... This bite was just the thing that did it in, the infections working at him as we speak."

"I'm right here, y'know.."

"Listen, there's good news to this." Rose started, moving over to the table in a corner of the infirmary. "There is a cure for it. I've been infected before, Red Talon had a lot of stuff-" "That should be shared with the survivors down here." Sev spat, furrowing his brows.

"Trust me, I know. But, there's a cure. I'm still in contact with Red Talon, I might be able to get us a drop of a few vials. It's essentially a fix-all to Miles problems here." There was silence, cluing Sev in on the fact there was something else to it. "But...?"

She sighed, "But, it would take around thirty minutes to get here." Sev was confused for a moment, smiling even. "Well that's good! When can you call it in?" He asked her, standing up. "Sev, he probably only has maybe 20 minutes, 25 at best." She told him, taking out a needle filled with morphine. "..c'mon, there's gotta be something we can do!"

Rose shrugged, "I mean, if you're able to get some samples off of plague samples, I can make an antidote myself. They taught us that back in boot camp, keep yourself alive and all of tha-"

"How many do you need?" Sev cut her off, "I'd need 8, I get that and I can mix it with some of the medicine here to create a cure for him." She explained, moving over to Miles, "Arm." Rose stated simply, prompting him to raise his left arm to allow her to inject him with morphine.

Voorhees nodded, "I'll go see some of the survivors in town, they're trying to experiment with that shit- they'll have enough." There was a slight hint of optimism in that sentence, something that had rubbed off on him from being so close to Miles constantly. "You keep him comfortable, I'll be back."

Rose didn't have another moment to speak to Sev as he stormed off and out of the base, leaving her and Miles there. "..you think he'll be able to get what you need in time?" The brunette asked, "He seems pretty hellbent on keeping you here with us, Miles. I wouldn't doubt him."

"..yeah, alright... Hey, wait, you said you've been infected before-"

"Long story."

#sheriff [ miles ive ] #scavenger [ sev voorhees ] #marksman [ warburton colt ] #red talon [ rose leo ] #im having fun! | drabbles

[traipseartist]

May 9th - The Voyage to Ogallala

Eyes open and more snow! Ugh, groans Lewis, who claims he has not seen the sun in a week. I, too, am feeling a little pallid, having spent more time in my jean jacket and sweats than originally scheduled.

Still, we rub our eyes and pack up the Indian Paintbrush suite and lumber out of Centennial for the hopes of breakfast after I take a few work calls and sort out some of life's paperwork.

Before we head out of town we visit a graveyard for old machinery on the edge of the city line and monkey around, trying to get the blood going in our veins before being folded back into Stacey for many hours once more.

We track for Scott's Bluff, hoping to be charmed along the way by something with perhaps a little fiber or even a vegetable in it (sorry Wyoming... I know the soil's really only good for cattle but...) and we find a sushi restaurant in a weird, little shopping mall in Cheyenne. My Pittsburgh knowledge has told me that, when it comes to the interior, sushi places in shopping malls are better bets than you'd know and Wasabi did not disappoint.

While Lewis and I munched on tempura'd zucchini and destroyed another cryptic, we attempted to access his student reviews only to be rebuffed by the Boise State document distribution system, so we closed out and touched road with eyes forward. Laramie and Cheyenne both did not offer much to look back for... except for the occasionally confusing public campaign?

Our wiggle into Nebraska was tumultuous. Snow and rain alternated, and Stacey had an opinion at about 50 mph on a small two lane highway just before the state line, which involved dying with a heavy sigh and Lewis and I wringing our wrists about rebooting her in a ditch on the side of the road.

But we needn't be afraid, she jumped back to life after a five minute constitution and we skittered along to the boundary between Wyoming and Nebraska.

Scott's Bluff, tucked behind flyover suburbia, was worth departing the final langour of Wyoming's eastern corner. We spiraled up what felt like a southwestern sandcastle, with tunnels so smooth I was ready to learn they were cake. We learned the Bluff was named after an "unfortunate death of a fur trader" at the base of the mountain and felt there was some scoop or plot the National Parks service wasn't quite letting us in on. Still we observed the way the wind carried away the rock and how Nebraska may conspiratorially be hiding it's more unique topography from the coastal tourist. The bluff looked like an ice cream scoop out of a mountain in the rear view, and we wished we had arrived a bit earlier to explore the pathways that wound around the National Monument.

From there, Ogallala wasn't far. Just a zip past Chimney Rock--a tall limestone stalagmite that looks to be reaching for God just beyond the highway, so enrapturing, that the plaques at Scott's bluff regale covered-wagon pioneers writing about it in their diaries as I am in mine--and we were on our way. Nebraska is a muted hum from here. The warm, red mesa-like mountains rolling into farm land and delivering us past the larger and more popular McConaughy Lake and onto what I can only regale as a virtual simulation of a camp ground.

The rich green of Ogallala, the quiet solitude, the glittering lake, the lowing of cows in the distance all felt a little too perfect. Like we might truly be sitting in someone's living room wearing a Quest in northern New Jersey instead of gathering kindling dry enough to catch but not so dry as to threaten natural disaster. The sun had emerged finally, the soil soft and the temperature climbing to a comfortable 55, we unpacked our tent, busted out a box of Mac n Cheese we swiped from a gas station on the way in, and enjoyed the way the wind bent the grass. Embers glow, stars emerge, and camp makes us existential as it feels is human tradition. We settle in our tent, listen to the wind and the occasional semi float over the highway up the berm, and wait for the morning light.

#wyoming #travel #nebraska #ogallala #suckingonapennywon'tchangeyourbaclevel

[angeldcgs]

closed: @vileintcnt who: mackenzie "mac" mcdermott, she/her, 24, petty criminal

for once in her life, mac found herself forced to slow down and take it easy for a bit, having gotten a little too trigger happy on her last stick up, but it's not like anyone died, or anything. had it been a civilian, the authorities would've given about as much of a shit as they did every other time she stole from some small town gas station, but because she'd just so happened to shoot a cop in the knee, suddenly his fellow pigs were all rallying to his defense, sparking up the witch hunt and chasing her across the state until she finally managed to shake them. they didn't even know how lucky he had it— she'd been aiming for his dick. it was unlikely anyone would think to look for her in a town so small, it didn't even make it onto some maps, and she'd managed to find a cheap place to stay, banking on that classic southern hospitality to keep her fed, because her money could only stretch so far. it was dull as all hell out there on that ranch, but mac didn't have a whole lot of options at the moment. just when she'd resigned herself to the boredom of rural country life, sure she'd be out of her mind within the week, a man appeared as if ripped straight from her fantasies, one of those classically rugged all-american boys that only existed in poorly written erotica marketed for sexually repressed middle aged women. she was lying on her stomach in the grass when he drove up on a lawnmower, the string of her bikini top untied so she wouldn't get tan lines on her back, and she had to hold the front of it to her chest as she sat up to get a better look at him so she didn't flash her tits. her other hand lowered heart shaped sunglasses before she grinned, a boisterous wave nearly causing her to spill out of the fabric only loosely concealing her body. "hiya! 'm not in your way, am i?" if she was he'd just have to mow around her— this was the best spot of unobstructed sun in the vicinity, and she'd already worn down her spot in the grass to perfectly support her body. "you should leave it long," she suggested, replacing her sunglasses and laying back down on her stomach, the bare flesh of her back proudly displaying the blown out black ink of a dragon curling down her spine, a slightly faded lotus just barely peeking out from the waistband of her little bikini bottoms. "'s more comfy like this." her voice was blissed out, a sun-drunk low hum. "crazy how we spend hundreds on memory foam, whole time god's out here growin' the best beds for free..."

#{ mackenzie mcdermott — starter } #vileintcnt

[cuddyclothes]

Tastes So Good - Supernatural's "The Pissed Off Sandwich" Cookbook, Part Two

Some years ago some dedicated fans of Supernatural put together a cookbook to be sold for charity. It was named after the moment in Season 7, Episode 9, when Dean's turducken sandwich starts to ooze green. "I think you pissed off my sandwich" is Dean's immortal line.

I was asked to provide recipes. They had to tie into actual dialogue from the show John Winchester's recipe for "Kitchen Sink Stew" in Part Two. I'll have you know that making this stew entailed a lot of disgusting stuff, like stewed Slim Jims and beef jerky. Because I am a dedicated fan!!

JOHN WINCHESTER’S KITCHEN SINK STEW

Note: This is taken from John Winchester’s journal.  It has been left unedited.

STARTING OUT

Stew: only way to get vegetables down Dean’s gullet.  Constipated Dean is hell to live with.  Sammy loves vegetables.  He’s a freak.  And not just because he has demon blood.

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

You need a stove.  Tried making this on a hot plate but it took three days and set the motel room on fire.  First ingredients, then cooking directions, then toppings and/or stuff on the side.

1. BASICS

2 lbs boneless beef chuck roast cut into medium-sized pieces

4 tablespoons of butter /14 diner packets

2 large onions, peeled and chopped up

2 tablespoons flour.  Or Bisquick

1 teaspoon sugar (skip sugar if using Bisquik)/ 2 Domino sugar packets

2 cups beer.  If you like dark beer, something like Negra Modelo.  My favorite is Budweiser.  Or whatever’s on sale at the gas station.  Guinness is a wuss beer and it costs too much.

2 beef bouillon cubes in 1 1/2 cup water. 

2. SEASONINGS:

Salt and pepper

Worcestershire sauce

Tabasco sauce

Parsley if you’ve got it

Bay leaf if you’ve got it

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

Beef jerky or Slim Jims adds a nice flavor.  NO GUMMI WORMS, no matter how much Dean begs.

3. VEGETABLES:

You can put anything in this stew.  Mix and match:

1 big turnip, cut into big pieces

4 carrots, peeled, cut into chunks 


4 potatoes, peeled, cut into chunks

2 green peppers, chopped up

2 cups lima beans

One big can diced tomatoes

2 cups okra

Canned corn

2 cups string beans

2 cups peas

2 boxes frozen spinach

2 boxes frozen mixed vegetables

What the hell are parsnips?

4. DIRECTIONS:

Brown beef with butter, salt and pepper. If you can't get butter, steal a bottle of Wal-Mart oil, any kind. Not motor oil!

Add flour and stir until beef is coated and browned.

Add Worcestershire sauce—a couple of good shakes. 

Add sugar.  Add onions.  Stir around until the onions are soft.

Add beer and beef broth.  Give it a good stir.

Add vegetables.  Stir it.

Remember to give it a stir!

Cook for 2 hours, covered.  If it looks too dry add water, stock, or beer (of course). 

5. TOPPINGS:

Crumbled Doritos or B-B-Q potato chips

Pretzels

Party mix – the salty kind, not the sweet kind

Beef jerky

Crispy Chinese noodles from these cheapo restaurants.  If you want to grab a couple of soy sauce packets and add that in to the stew, be my guest.

JOHN WINCHESTER’S TIPS:

If no potatoes, use rice, around 2 cups.  Makes one big chunk of stuff.  Boys didn’t much like it: made them eat anyway.

No potatoes or rice, a couple of boxes of mac and cheese without the cheese works.  Save the cheese for something else, like dip.  If you have company.  We don’t.  We sprinkle it on cereal.

NO SALAD!!

#supernatural #john winchester #dad's kitchen sink stew #pissed off sandwich #beef stew #cooking the supernatural way