#DC to AC Conversion

[pvmarketofficial]

How to Install a Hybrid Inverter

Installing a hybrid inverter involves several important steps and requires careful planning to ensure safety and efficiency. Here’s a detailed guide to help you through the process:

1. Pre-Installation Preparation

Assess Your Needs:

Determine the required size and capacity of the inverter based on your energy consumption and the specifications of your solar panels and battery storage.

Obtain Necessary Permits:

Check local regulations and obtain any required permits for installing a hybrid inverter and connecting it to the grid.

Select a Suitable Location:

Choose a well-ventilated, shaded area for mounting the inverter, away from direct sunlight and extreme temperatures.

Ensure the location is easily accessible for maintenance and monitoring.

2. Gather Tools and Equipment

Required Tools:

Screwdrivers

Drill and drill bits

Wire strippers

Multimeter

Safety gear (gloves, safety glasses)

Required Equipment:

Hybrid inverter

Mounting bracket or panel

Conduits and cables

Disconnect switches

Battery bank (if not already installed)

Solar panels (if not already installed)

3. Installation Steps

Step 1: Mount the Inverter

Secure the mounting bracket or panel to the chosen location using screws and a drill.

Attach the inverter to the bracket or panel, ensuring it is firmly in place.

Step 2: Connect the Solar Panels

Run the cables from the solar panels to the inverter’s input terminals.

Use conduits to protect the cables and ensure a neat installation.

Connect the positive and negative wires to the corresponding terminals on the inverter.

Step 3: Connect the Battery Bank

Connect the battery bank to the inverter’s battery input terminals.

Ensure correct polarity (positive to positive, negative to negative) to avoid damage to the system.

Use appropriate fuses and disconnect switches for safety.

Step 4: Connect to the Grid

Connect the inverter to your home’s main electrical panel via the grid input terminals.

Install a disconnect switch between the inverter and the main panel to isolate the system when needed.

Step 5: Configure the Inverter

Follow the manufacturer’s instructions to configure the inverter settings, including battery type, charging parameters, and grid connection settings.

Use the inverter’s interface or a connected monitoring system to complete the configuration.

4. Testing and Commissioning

Safety Checks:

Double-check all connections for tightness and correct polarity.

Ensure all fuses and disconnect switches are properly installed and in the off position.

Power Up:

Turn on the battery disconnect switch, followed by the solar panel disconnect switch.

Turn on the inverter and monitor the startup sequence for any error messages.

System Testing:

Use a multimeter to verify voltage and current levels at various points in the system.

Ensure the inverter is correctly managing power flow from the solar panels, battery, and grid.

Test backup power functionality by simulating a grid outage.

5. Final Steps

Monitoring and Maintenance:

Set up any remote monitoring features provided by the inverter for real-time performance tracking.

Schedule regular maintenance checks to ensure the system continues to operate efficiently and safely.

Documentation:

Keep a record of the installation, including wiring diagrams, configuration settings, and maintenance logs.

Provide documentation to local authorities if required for compliance with regulations.

Conclusion

Installing a hybrid inverter can be complex, but following these steps will help ensure a safe and efficient installation. Always refer to the manufacturer’s instructions for specific details related to your inverter model, and consider hiring a professional installer if you are not confident in performing the installation yourself.

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

This is the funniest way of depicting Speedster Speedster Sense™ ever

(Speedster Speedster Sense™: a Speedster's innate ability to track and locate other Speedsters, especially when the tracked Speedster is using their powers)

They're like bloodhounds after a squirrel lmao

Normally, this kinda thing is depicted as a speedster just kinda knowing where someone is (see, below)

Like these panels where Barry just knows where Max and Wally are. There are tons and tons of instances of Speedsters vaguely feeling another Speedster nearby or, like Barry, just knowing their exact coordinates but seeing an energy trail? That's fun. I like that so much better.

It isn't the first time we've seen something like this. Wally tracked down a time manipulator for Dick one time exactly like Ace and Avery. But it's just so fun. I'm glad to see it back.

[magratpudifoot]

Finished 25 May 2025:

The Angel of Indian Lake - Stephen Graham Jones

I devoured the first two books in this trilogy, but I also got a little bit of that same weariness of reading about characters I care about getting beaten down that always kneecaps my attempts to revisit/catch up with The Dresden Files*. Which is a real testament to how much I care about Jade and Letha, because I'm a horror nerd--Paul Tremblay is one of my favorite authors, I am considering incorporating a Cabin in the Woods reference into a tattoo, the Angel episodes "Hellbound" and "Damage" are my coziest comfort stories. Slashers are not my subgenre of choice by a long shot, but I don't typically shy away from media just because 99% of the cast is going to get pulverized. But Jade and Letha and Adie and Stacey and Proofrock have already been through so much. Let them rest.

I didn't quite trust Jones to let them rest.

About halfway through The Angel of Indian Lake, I recommended the series to a couple of people I had been hesitant to tell about it because of some of the themes regarding sexual predation, and how brutal the gorier moments can be. But my gosh, what Jones does with Jade, how he lets her be exactly who she is, exactly the sort of beautiful human that I am lucky enough to have one or two of in my life, who takes their pain and anger and uses it to make sure no one else has to feel the way they did. Who keeps learning and growing anyway they can. It's a thing of goddamned beauty.

And then...

Because I was listening to the audiobook, I thought when I heard Jones' voice that it was the author note and the story was over. I ran the book back a couple of chapters to listen for THE THING I needed to happen to keep me from having to rescind my recommendations and throw out my copies of the books. THE THING that proved I understood what Jones was doing, that he was the writer I thought he was, at least in this series**. It wasn't until I angrily, confusedly read the Wikipedia plot summary that I realized--when Jones first starts reading on the audiobook, it's the epilogue, not the author's note.

I hadn't finished the story.

NOW THAT I HAVE... Am I a little miffed at Jones for structuring the story so THE THING happens in an epilogue? YUP. And does it kind of spoil my feelings about the series' thesis that THE THING ever became a thing that needed to happen in the first place? YUP--considering the particular types of changes that happened between My Heart Is a Chainsaw and Don't Fear the Reaper, it is hard to stomach that it was ever possible for the inciting incidents that led to THE THING needing to happen. Jones lampshades that oversight with a Scream allusion, so OKAY, I guess it's still playing within the rules of the series' narrative logic. I just think the exact same thing could have been done even if there had been a few VERY REASONABLE AND NECESSARY GUARDRAILS put in place between 1 and 2 to make it less likely. If you're not worried about spoilers and want to talk more about this, my inbox is open.

That said, my goodness, if this isn't the most perfect horror trilogy I have ever read, and one of the very few horror stories where I'd say the finale is better than the elevator pitch.

*I just couldn't when those two finally came out during the pandemic lockdown, and I still haven't been able to. Because GODS DAMMIT BUTCHER HARRY NEEDS A BREAK. NOT A BONE FRACTURE, A BREAK.

**I really liked The Only Good Indians and really did not like Night of the Mannequins, so I haven't yet got a handle on if he is a T. Kingfisher or a Grady Hendrix, whose work I will read every time even if one or two don't work for me, or a Lauren Beukes, who has one book that resonated deep, deep in my soul but whose other work isn't reliably My Thing enough for me to preorder everything she writes. Jones' comment in his author note about Uvalde making him wonder if he was still a horror writer makes me confident that, even if his earlier work is hit and miss for me, I'm in good hands going forward.

[juliabush2450]

Exploring the Benefits of ECO-WORTHY Photovoltaic Inverters 🌞

Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing great! I wanted to share some insights about the photovoltaic inverter industry, particularly focusing on the brand ECO-WORTHY. As many of you know, solar energy is becoming an increasingly popular and sustainable solution for powering our homes and businesses.

ECO-WORTHY has been making significant strides in the development of high-quality solar inverters. These devices play a crucial role in converting the direct current (DC) generated by solar panels into alternating current (AC), which can be used by household appliances.

What I love about ECO-WORTHY is their commitment to providing reliable and efficient products that help reduce our carbon footprint. Their inverters are designed with advanced technology, ensuring maximum energy conversion and efficiency. Plus, they are user-friendly, making it easy for anyone to transition to solar energy.

If you're considering investing in solar energy, I highly recommend looking into ECO-WORTHY's offerings. Not only will you be contributing to a greener planet, but you'll also enjoy the benefits of lower energy bills and energy independence.

Thank you for reading, and I hope this information helps you on your solar journey!

[thedaveandkimmershow]

So I spent the last week detailing our wedding anniversary celebration vacation... basically, reliving it.

Why?

Long standing policy, I guess. Too much of life passes by in the rush of the present and so much is lost when it does.

Lost?

Lost to memory. Things that happened to me, to us, experiences that are overwritten by next experiences. Small things that might be important if given a little space to grow. Small things that if given space to grow might inform me in some important way.

You never know, is my point. And this is something over which I do have control: considering what has happened and allowing it to affect what will happen.

In the case of our vacation, it could hardly have gone better. It wasn't all about doing... and so there was actual relaxing happening.

Not the worst lesson ever.

I'm also reminded of how it was with us and our SLR cameras all those years ago when we were dating. We'd go places to see what there was to see... and then take photographs of what inspired us. It was a true experience of exploration and discovery, the very example, today, of which is exploring what we otherwise assumed would be cordoned off to the public–which was actually not–and discovering an entire section of park that's been closed, abandon in a way.

Click this link for the 360 experience, best if you use your phone's auto-rotate setting and look at it as a landscape, not a portrait.

The arena was definitely the biggest example of looking passed the obvious because so much was beyond the obvious. I'm impressed guests can still walk around all this. For us, it was very much exploration and discovery. After all, at some point we saw cordoned-off lanes as if for long lines of concert goers that begged the question.

Where does this go?

Which is how we found the theater, ready for some big performance. Except no. We wound up asking and, while this section of the park is no longer "online" (for lack of a better word), Universal hasn't announced what's gonna be here instead. An extension of Hogsmeade? A little bit more Seuss? Maybe something completely new?

No one knows.

But it was fun navigating to that understanding.

Here's what is used to be, though...

Photography isn't the only way we explore and discover. While traveling, especially, there seems to be more latitude for spontaneous discussion. And if not latitude across all travelers then we certainly feel a more widespread permission to engage with fellow travelers that we don't normally feel to that degree during our normal day to day work/home routine. I dunno. There's more ability to continue and navigate smaller conversations into much larger ones. There's more conversational and experiential improv we manage on the fly and the time to do it. Yes, we're a little more in the moment... but it's still exploration and discovery, the best example of which definitely comes from improv'ing our way through one evening.

It's from our first night at a bar that we found ourselves in because the first two places we checked out for dinner didn't really speak to us. So we arrive at this bar when a bunch of guests have gotten up to leave so we grab their seats and ask the bartender if that was gonna be okay which leads to an engaging conversation lasting, on and off, our entire experience of drinks and appetizers.

Toward the end, we hear a favorite classic rock song. Kimmer mentions the song she'd like to hear. I pitch the song to the band and later, when I've actually forgotten I'd done that...

They start playing the song.

So we listen from the back of the main floor and, after the song's finished, we find ourselves at the front of the stage talking to these guys starting with how we're here at Universal celebrating our wedding anniversary. Which prompts them to ask about our actual wedding all those years ago. Which leads to a discussion about wedding songs that ends with Kimmer saying how much we enjoy AC/DC.

And then this happens.

Okay yes.

More please.

Because.

Exploration and discovery pave the way for such experiences. Improv'ing conversations and experiences can lead to this. Being open and being fully engaged in these moments...

Yeah.

It's a helluva a thing that can happen.

Which makes me wonder.

Is this only possible on the road?

[athenalvss]

TOMORROW? ( Bruce wayne! )

requested!

summary: On his first patrol as Robin, Dick can't keep his mouth shut and tries to set his mentor up with Detective Gordon's assistant, but there are things the boy doesn't know.

pairing: Bruce wayne x fem reader

open request - dc masterlist

The rain was barely felt from the roof of the building, but the lights of Gotham City flickered as if they were also afraid. You adjusted your coat, watching the Bat-signal projected onto the clouds. Gordon hadn't arrived yet, but you were there, as always, ready.

You didn't wait long for it to arrive.

The dark figure emerged from the edge of the building without a sound. Imposing, wrapped in his black cape, Batman strode toward you with a presence that commanded even without saying a word.

You'd been working for the police department for almost three years, Commissioner Gordon's right-hand man since he handpicked you for the position. You were no ordinary officer. Your reports were accurate, your deductions sharp, and, most importantly, you weren't intimidated by the city... or the shadows that loomed over it.

That was one of the reasons Batman started trusting you.

At first, there were only short, dry exchanges. He wasn't exactly the life of the party. But over time, the conversations lengthened. There was a silent understanding between you. Gordon had even started sending you in his place to some meetings with the Dark Knight, fully trusting your judgment.

And that night was one of those.

You didn't have to wait long until he appeared.

The dark figure emerged from the edge of the building without a sound. Imposing, wrapped in his black cape, Batman walked toward you with a presence that commanded even without saying a word.

"At time as always" you said with a slight smile, breaking the silence as if it were an old habit among you. "Gordon's stuck in a scene across town. He asked me to deliver this to you."

You handed him an envelope. It was open, revealing a deck of poker cards inside: two hearts, two Jacks, and a two, all stained with red ink.

Batman watched them closely. "Did this arrive today?"

"Earlier today, it was left at the station, addressed to you, and I dared to open it early."

"Cards, games. Could be Nigma or Two Face," he murmured, running his fingers over the ace.

"I thought the same thing. But there's no message, no threat. Just the letters."

I was about to make another observation when something landed with a thud on the roof of the parked patrol car. You instinctively turned, hand near your gun. But the one who appeared on top of the vehicle wasn't a threat. Or at least, not yet.

A teenager, or barely more. His black hair was tangled, his mask was worn, and his shiny suit stood in stark contrast to the darkness of Gotham City. He slid to the ground with an agility that reminded you of a circus acrobat.

"Am I interrupting something?! Are you receiving love letters at work?" he asked with a smile, his voice young and clear.

"And you are...?" you asked, eyebrows raised.

The boy stood proudly in front of you. "I'm Robin. First official night. Impressive, huh?"

"Robin," Batman chimed in with a small sigh. "She works with Gordon."

"Oh," Robin looked at you more closely. "Nice to meet you. I thought you'd be more... I don't know, old."

"Thanks... I think"

"one more question, I mean, ummm, are you single?"

Silence fell like a bomb. Batman turned slowly toward him, his jaw tense.

You raised an eyebrow, not moving. “Pardon?”

"I mean Br... Batman" Robin clarified, awkwardly jerking his thumb. "He's always alone, you're so cool, you know about crime... you two have chemistry. Just connecting the dots."

Batman turned to him very slowly. He said nothing. But that silence was worth a hundred warnings. "Robin," he finally murmured.

—What?! I'm just saying you two could make a great couple, you could solve crimes together all the time.

You crossed your arms and looked at the horizon, pretending to hold back a smile.

"Watch the perimeter, now," Batman ordered without raising his voice.

"Okay, okay, I'm going now," Robin spoke in a tone of resignation at the rejection of both adults to his great idea, and went jumping across the roofs.

"You didn't tell me he was so cute..." You turned to him, with a smile that was barely noticeable, but that shone in your eyes.

Batman barely turned his head, the shadow of a smile crossing his face, fleeting like everything that isn't made to last. "I wanted you to meet him for yourself."

In the distance, a small figure peeked out from behind a water tank. Robin. Peeking out with an expression somewhere between curiosity and confusion.

"He's watching us," you murmured, not moving.

"I know, I trained him" he replied calmly.

You adjusted your coat and spoke without looking at him: "Same place tomorrow for lunch?"

"If you make it in time this time," he replied, still maintaining his neutral tone, although his eyes shone a second brighter than usual.

"This time you won't have to wait for me"

"We'll see, I can call Alfred to pick you up."

Your smile barely grew, showing a hint of indignation. "See you tomorrow, bats, be careful please."

And you walked away into the shadows, letting him watch you as you went down the stairs to enter the station again.

[roc-haze]

Cry To Me | WillNE

You weren’t too sure how you’d ended up in a dingy pub on a Thursday evening, but the second Arthur Hill had figured out you had an upcoming long weekend, you were done for.

“Oh come on, Y/N! We’re going out for a few quiet pints.” He had said, sitting on your sofa a few days before.

“Who’s we, Arthur?” You had pried, eyebrow slightly quirked.

“Well me, obviously. Clarkey, TV, Chris, Becky, Chip and Sabina.” He rattled off friends, thinking out loud to see who had he forgotten. “Pretty sure that’s everyone… oh wait, Will! Will Lenney.”

Your cheeks flushed. Will didn’t often come out with the group, choosing to strategically avoid the filming of pub golf and platform roulette. Basically any event in which cameras could catch him being embarrassingly drunk. Arthur had asked him, only to be met with disappointment.

Out of all the YouTube crew, Will had always caught your eye. You both tended to sit back and enjoy the chaos of everyone hanging out together, opting for meaningful conversation where possible. You swiped up on each other’s stories, often texted songs through to each other and Will was a regular commenter on your Strava account. I heard you run faster if you listen to AC/DC.

“Oh that’s right, I forget you have a bit of a hard on for him.” Arthur teased, laughing as the red flush spread across your cheeks.

“Fuck off, Arthur!” You laughed. “You’ve come into my flat, drank all my coffee and now you’re taking the piss out of me.”

“Yeah, what are friends for?” Cheeky grin on his face, Arthur dodged the onslaught of cushions thrown at his face.

So, here you were.

Becky and Sabina had naturally gravitated towards you, occupying the end of the table. You were a few wines in when Sab had pulled out her phone, eager to share her camera roll.

“You would think that Josh and Freezy are engaged, the way they are glued to each other.” Sabina laughed, showing the two of you photos from The Fellas Podcast shoot earlier that week.

“Remember that TikTok trend? The best friend Steve one?” You asked in between giggles.

“Yes! The ‘it’s just me and you and your friend Steve’ one! These two idiots would be perfect for that!” Becky was in stitches, scrolling through Sab’s photo gallery.

“What are we laughing at, ladies?” You had heard him before you laid eyes on him. Turning your head, the tall Geordie man was stood behind you with a grin on his face.

“Will, you have to see this!” Sab turned her phone screen around for him to see.

She was met with a loud, hearty laugh. “That’s almost romantic, innit!”. Will politely made small talk with Sabina and Becky, his eyes barely leaving your face as you enthusiastically listened to your girlfriends.

“Would any of you like a top up? I’m headed up to get a drink?” He asked, met with polite declines. He placed a hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze. “I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping you would be.” And with that, he had made his way up to the bar, hugging his friends as he went.

You lightly run your hand over your shoulder, a sudden warmth making its way up your neck and to your cheeks.

Becky caught the gesture, smirking at you. “Babe, come on. You better jump his bones soon.” You laughed her off. Don’t be silly, Becks. We’re just mates. Friends probably don’t stare at each other longingly.

—

About two hours and 3 rounds had passed when George had located the jukebox. He had excitedly run up to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the machine.

“I know you love cute shit like this, Y/N. I thought I’d let you pick a song.” George passed you a coin.

The catalogue was mostly 60s and 70s singles, which made it impossible to pick just one song. Taking a quick glance through the selections, you settled for the Bee Gees ‘More Than A Woman’. A few moments after inserting the song, the sound of digital strings and synthetic bass filled the room. You stood at the jukebox with a massive grin adorning your face, swaying to the Bee Gees.

On the way back to the table, an elderly gentleman had stopped you in your tracks.

“Excuse me, miss. Is that a working jukebox?” He softly asked, his kind eyes meeting your own.

“Yes! Would you like me to show you?” You extended your arm out, helping him to his feet.

George looked to you. “Have you got this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back to the table in a few minutes.” He nodded, returning to the group.

You reached the jukebox, looking through the selections with the man. “There are just too many good choices, aren’t there? I might have to go with Elvis or Solomon Burke next.”

He looked up from the catalogue, surprised look on his face. “I don’t meet too many young people who fancy Solomon Burke.”

“Really? I remember him from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.” You cracked a smile.

The elderly man extended his hand for you to shake. “I better introduce myself. My name is Thomas.”

“Y/N. Glad to meet you.” You shook his hand gently.

“The pleasure is mine,” Thomas had a kind smile. “That lovely lady over there is my wife Edith. She’s been a bit nervous to be out and about as she had a fall a few months ago.”

“Oh no, is she doing okay now?” Your face had dropped, ever the look of empathy covering it.

“Yes, she’s well again. I think just a bit cautious. I’d love to get her up for a dance.” Thomas picked a song, inserting a coin.

“Well, if Edith decides to turn you down - I’d love a dance.” The two of you walked back to his table, exchanging a smile as he bid you farewell.

Returning to your group of friends, Will gestured for you to fill the empty seat next to him.

“Making friends, are we?” Will teased, lightly running his hand over the top of your own.

“Yeah, that’s my new bestie Thomas. He’s wanting to have a dance but I think Edith is a little nervous. She’s not long had a bit of a fall.” You looked back at the couple, waving back when Edith had raised her hand.

“Why don’t we give them some encouragement? Maybe she just needs to see someone else absolutely tearing it up on the dance floor.” Will laughed, a soft laugh rumbling through his chest.

As ‘More Than A Woman’ reached its final notes, it was soon replaced by Solomon Burke’s ‘Cry To Me’.

Will rose to his feet, holding his hand out for you to grab. He walked right up to the couple, flashing a cheeky smile at Edith. “I was hoping you two could teach us to dance?”

Edith just couldn’t resist. Not that you could blame her. Who could say no to Will? Extending his hand out to her, Will helped Edith to her feet and got her acquainted on the makeshift dance floor. As you watched on, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Shall we?” Thomas offered an arm, positioning the two of you not too far from Edith and Will. As her smile grew, so did his. Will had Edith giggling, spinning her around without a care in the world.

“He seems like a good man.” Thomas had said to you, speaking as though it were matter of fact.

You smiled straight at him. “He is.” That answer must’ve sufficed, as Thomas tried his best to spin you around.

Across the pub, Becky sat fighting back tears.

“Are you alright Becks?” George had asked, struggling to figure out why the girl was suddenly upset.

“Does that not make you want to cry? Look at how cute they are dancing with that elderly couple.” Becky gestured toward Y/N and Will, dabbing underneath her eyes.

ArthurTV piped in, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “I heard Y/N say the lady was afraid to dance because she’s just had a fall.”

With that, Becky’s first tear dropped. “And Will got her up dancing? That is so sweet!”.

A few moments of idle chat later, the song was nearly over and Will was handing Edith back off to her husband.

“Thomas, do you mind if I steal the young lady for a dance?” Will gently placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Of course you can. You better get in before her dance card is full.” Thomas joked, squeezing your hand before turning to Edith.

Edith caught your eye, pointing to Will. “He’s gorgeous!” She mouthed.

“You’re telling me!” You whispered back, letting the Geordie man lead you to the middle of the dance floor.

The song changed to Frankie Valli’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’.

“I thought you liked Frankie.” Will smiled down at you, one hand planted firmly on your waist and the other intertwined with your own. You ran your free hand along his arm, settling it just below his shoulder.

“I love Frankie Valli. I didn’t realise you did too?” You couldn’t remember Will ever mentioning him.

“Oh, I don’t really. You mentioned that you had a few of his albums on vinyl so I gave him a whirl. If you weren’t the one who recommended him, it probably wouldn’t be my vibe.” Will looked around the room, avoiding eye contact in case he’d given away too much. Shit Will, that sounds a bit feral.

“And given that I was the one that recommended it, what do you think?” You squeezed his hand, urging him to meet your eyes.

“Well, Y/N. I like pretty much whatever you like. I think it’s pretty special that you feel like sharing your favourite music with me.” He swallowed hard, stretching his arm out to spin her around in a circle.

As you completed the circle and found yourself back in his grip, you let it slip nonchalantly. “So you must like yourself then?”

“Oh, I go alright.” It took a moment for Will to register what you had said. “Wait. Did you just say what I think you said?”

Deciding to be brave, you stopped in your tracks, dropping your hands to rest on his forearms. “Yeah, I did.”

Will’s hands trailed alongside your sides, leaving a wake of tingles where he had touched you. He placed his hands on either side of your face, looking directly at you. “D’ya mean it?”.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a big fat schoolgirl crush.” You laughed, breath hitching as Will lightly traced his thumb across your bottom lip. He moved closer.

“That is the best news I’ve heard all fucking week.” His lips ghosted yours, nervous to make the first move.

Edith yelled from across the pub, “oh just kiss her, you silly bastard!”.

That was all the encouragement Will needed, connecting your lips together. If it weren’t for the fact he were right across from you, you could’ve sworn there were actual sparks touching your lips. Your hands find themselves resting on his back, as he used one hand to gingerly hold your face and the other to takes its place in your hair. He lightly tugged on strands of hair, prompting a small gasp to leave your lips. He smiled into the kiss before pulling apart for just a moment.

“So, is it safe to say you like like me?” You winked up at him.

“Sweetheart, I fucking yearn for you,” he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping securely around you. He placed another quick kiss to your lips. “Let’s go home.”

…..

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

And the winner of the poll is….. WillNE!

Thanks so much for voting!

Would love to dedicate this cute little one shot to @octaneink 🫶

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

An Accidental Haunting

Astrid Deetz x Ghost!Reader

Summary- After your daily stroll through the cemetery to pass the time, you overhear a conversation between Astrid and her mother. Fearing that she would do something terrible to herself, you follow her home and make sure to keep her safe.

Warnings- Reader was m*urdered, specifics about readers death and markings, Su*cide mentions, mentions of death and the afterlife.

Your afterlife had been relatively uneventful since your death. It had been 22 years since you died, and you had a pretty good routine down now. After you check on your parents you would go to the cemetery and talk to the wandering spirits there. Often times you were a comfortable distraction to their sorrows.

Currently there was a funeral going on and you pretended to blend into the background, hiding behind the group of living people. Your outfit stuck out more than you'd like. An old AC/DC shirt and green flannel overtop of black ripped jeans. Thinking back, you should've dressed nicer for your final moments alive.

The funeral in question was for a "Charles Deetz", which you had heard of before, having been a part of the family that lived in the famous Ghost House. He had been eaten alive by a shark, which seemed pretty gnarly. You were only partially listening to his widowed wife Deelia droning on about how much she couldn't live without him. By the end of the speech, she was pulled aside and talked about how she couldn't wait to form an art piece around her suffering. Thats when you decided you had heard enough and began to roam around the cemetery again.

Astrid sat far away from the group after the funeral had dispersed. Her head was tilted towards the dirt, and she had a deep scowl on her lips. Clearly this man had meant a lot to her and her family, so naturally you felt bad and walked a bit closer.

Lydia came over to comfort her daughter and sat beside her. She looked over at Astrid in silence before speaking up quietly. "Death is hard"

Astrid responded emotionlessly, not making eye contact with the woman beside her. "Yeah, sometimes I think life is harder"

Your eyes widened and you took a step back, shocked by her response. It's not that you didn't agree with her to some extent, it was just different hearing it from someone else. After a moment of the world moving without you, you finally snapped out of it to see them both walking back home and quickly followed.

Their house was crowded with people, all talking to each other with frowns. Mourning had always been an odd concept for you to understand. It was even odd during your own funeral. Comforting people was easy enough because they all wanted to hear the same things. "You'll be alright, this sadness will pass", "They're in a better place now, it's good that they're not in pain anymore". It was all a routine you used to comfort people both in life and death.

Being a psychic yourself, you felt as if it was your responsibility to help people both living and deceased, even after you had died. Now was your mission to help Astrid. She was a stranger, yes, but you just couldn't help yourself for some reason.

Astrid sat at one of the tables away from the crowd, mindlessly twirling a tassel on the end of the tablecloth. She clearly didn't want to hear the routine speeches you had on the tip of your tongue, so you stood away and just simply watched to make sure she was alright.

A frown graced your lips as time ticked by seemingly without change before she finally made her way into the kitchen. There was luckily no one hanging around in there when Astrid eyed the knife on the countertop. After a deep breath, she reached out to grab it. This certainly wasn't how you expected her to end her life, especially since there was a crowd outside.

Without thinking you leaped forward and swatted the knife out of her hand. It imbedded itself into the plaster and you smirked, proud of your work.

She stared at it with wide eyes before groaning, clearly more annoyed than spooked. Her day was already hard enough and now she was imagining things. Prying the knife out of the wall proved futile and she closed her eyes, plopping down in the chair with defeat. All she wanted right not was to make a simple meal, but the world seemed to be against her.

A short laugh echoed through the room and her head shot up, searching for the source of it. Was she hearing things now too?

Days had passed with your attempts to save her life.

Astrid grabbed a rope to hang the skeleton for Halloween and it kept falling from the rafter 'mysteriously'.

Another time, she went to the attic to grab a box of heavy photo albums, piled up so high that she couldn't see past them. You graciously knocked the top ones off so she could see better. Yet another inconvenience and strange occurrence in this house, but Astrid continued to ignore it and just picked up the books after she had placed the box on the floor.

One time the gas on the stove kept turning off whenever she would turn away to grab an ingredient.

Eventually she had had enough of the house, her mother getting remarried, the death of her grandfather. She felt stifled and had to get away, so she went to the only place that felt normal to her anymore. She had a date with Jeremy that night anyway.

You watched her leave with a groan, tossing your hands in the air to no avail as she still couldn't see you. "Him, really? He's a murderer!" you cupped your hands around your mouth to yell, only gaining the attention of an elderly deceased lady walking by the end of the street. you laughed awkwardly and returned to the house. Thankfully you couldn't show embarrassment with no blood rushing through your veins.

You had decided not to follow her on her date, not wanting to be seen as some sort of stalker. Sadly, you soon regretted that as time ticked by. It felt like years as you waited in the house for her to return. The nicknacks on her desk kept you entertained for the time being, but you were quickly getting bored again as you walked to her bookshelf.

Halloween used to be your favorite holiday. Yet looking outside now and watching the trick or treaters smile and live their lives made you grow more depressed than you'd like to admit.

You could go out there, but you had a mission to save Astrids life and you needed to be here when she returned. You could never forgive yourself if she died.

If you were alive, your feet would have ached with how much pacing you were doing. The book you had taken from the shelf was about morbid and unsolved deaths throughout the United States, which did pique your interest at least.

The door to her bedroom swung open and Astrid stood in the doorway wearing her Marie Curie dress which was absolutely covered in dirt and decay. You couldn't help but smile at seeing her alive still, while her eyes widened comically and raked over your entire figure meticulously. Your smile soon dropped as you finally noticed the state she was in.

"I could've told you he was bad news" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to ease the awkwardness with conversation. The silence between you two loomed on for minutes before your smile returned. "So, you can see me now, huh?"

All the response she provided was a small nod, barely moving. You looked down to see your shirt, having momentarily forgotten the state you were always in. There were several stab marks in your stomach with blood covering the lower half of your shirt where it was torn. Quickly covering yourself with your flannel, you tried to turn away. "It's not a pretty sight, I know. But by now you know it's not exactly a Halloween costume" You joked, wanting her to say anything at this point to ease your ever-growing anxiety.

Astrid walked further into her room and shut the door behind her. She sat on her bed and her dress billowed out around her, kicking dust up around her. You laughed, not being able to help it. "I'm guessing you've been to the afterlife? I must say, you're the prettiest corpse I've seen in years" Her eyes lit up, just barely at your comment and she cracked a small smile at that, patting the spot beside her for you to sit.

You obliged but kept your distance, afraid to scare her more after the clearly traumatic experience she had.

Moments went by in comfortable silence before she spoke. "Why... did you get killed?" The words were soft and barely audible, but you picked up on it from a mile away, turning to look at her.

"People fear what they do not understand" You replied simply.

"Isn't that from To Kill a Mockingjay?" She smiled widely, having gotten over her anxiousness a bit more now.

You laughed. "Actually, I was quoting Batman Begins, it was one of my favorite movies as a child." A beat passed before a smirk grew on your lips. "But let's go with your idea, it makes me seem deeper and more mysterious"

You both laughed together, smiling brightly at the other.

Part 2 Part 3

A/N: This was partially written when I was sleep deprived at 2am, so if there are a lot of mistakes I apologize. Not sure if this was platonic or romantic so you guys get to choose that. I also kept the reader GN but if you'd specifically like a female or male reader, specify when requesting please!

Please like/comment/repost and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always encouraged and appreciated. If I left out any important trigger warnings let me know and ill add them.

Credits:

Graveyard and Ghosts Dividers- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Header- Me

[its10pm]

Michael Afton Headcanons

Just a fun headcanon dump to get into the writing mood :) These are super random though. I think I'm possessed.

Mike is a huge pirate fan. He wanted to be a pirate until he was 8 (which is when he wanted to be an astronaut).

His favorite food is lasagna (his mom's is the best).

He's super tall and has always been super tall. The coach ran him down to play basketball his sophomore year of high school.

He's been working for his dad since he was seven. By the time he's in high school, he can basically run any shift by himself.

His best classes in high school are gym, physics and art class.

He would eat at least two full boxes of pizza per day, if he were allowed to.

He's really good at all of their arcade games. His highest score is in Pac-Man, though.

He's super scared of heights.

He went to a British primary school in London before his dad moved back to Utah when he was 6.

He "learned" how to play the electric guitar when he was fourteen. "Learned" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, because he can only read tab and really only learned riffs and some easy AC/DC songs.

Somehow, he's still able to impress people, even though he is clearly just abusing a whammy bar.

He plays basketball, football and baseball. He likes sports because he means he's home less.

He really likes cars a lot. He suped up his truck's engine when he was 16 and has almost wrecked it in races with other high schoolers multiple times. But car stuff is how he bonds with William, Henry and Ralph.

He's been smoking since he was 11. William doesn't really care, as long as he doesn't steal his.

He spends a lot of time taking over house activities for his mom, when she's too tired to get out of bed. This has made him a pretty good cook, though.

He's kind of a cool guy in school, but he's sort of seen as a 'bad kid' and a 'huge asshole', so he's definitely got a smaller group of friends. This is fine, because he's kind of a loner anyway.

He gets pretty good grades, except for in English class (he has dyslexia).

He has a pretty huge crush on Maria Rodriguez. He embarrasses himself to try and impress her a lot.

When he was thirteen, he broke his arm wrestling the school security guard to impress a girl. His friends have not let him live this down.

When he was fifteen, he drove into the school's gym while trying to show his friends a sick car trick over the weekend. His father has yet to let him live this down.

He and William fight a lot. I mean, most of the time. But they're kind of similar people, with similar senses of humor and some overlapping interests, so sometimes they can have friendly conversations with each other.

Mike likes gossiping with his Aunt Vangie (Henry's wife) and his mom.

When he was fourteen, he made up a game of throwing up lawn darts and having the neighborhood kids catch them. This was stopped after a few too many close calls.

He also made a game of rolling kids down hills in tractor tires. This was only stopped after he got bored of it.

He's the kind of guy that punches wholes in the dry wall.

He used to BMX, but Chip is way better at it, so he gave that dream up because he hates being one-upped by his own posse.

He doodles sometimes in class. He likes to impress girls by drawing them. He also likes trying the Fazbear band. A lot.

Foxy is his favorite animatronic. He ships him with Chica.

He rough-houses with Evan and Elizabeth. A lot.

This includes farting on their heads and forces them to smell his arm pit.

He cackles.

He's a cool guy, so he sneaks out to go to parties a lot.

Sometimes this means stealing William's nice cars, which he will always end up regretting.

He likes watching soaps with his mom.

He's the best of all his siblings of picking up his room.

His room is full of posters of hot supermodels and Playboy models, by the way.

He's given all of the animatronics personalities. Bonnie's is the malevolent, in his view.

He's very violent and gets into physical fights with others a lot.

Big undiagnosed bipolar disorder energy.

He chews gum all the time. Literally all the time. It's very annoying.

He had a Mormon baby blessing, but he was never baptized.

He gets invited to church activities sometimes. People almost always regret it.

He dresses in the more general, 80s rock 'n' roll, hair metal style, but he is a goth rock lover.

His middle name is James.

He smokes weed sometimes. But he mostly just drinks.

His mom's parents live in Virgin. He doesn't visit them that often, even though they're kind of close, because William is embarrassed to be associated with them. He is the oldest of their grandchildren, though. (Teen pregnancy things.)

He was sent to a pretty extensive psychiatric programme in Draper after killing Evan.

He graduated high school early.

[nehi-soda]

Once More to See You - DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: POSSIBLY DUBCON as reader has been drinking (also tagged), P in V sex, ANGST, smut, secret relationship, praise kink, dirty talk, cream pie, heartbreak, Joel is kind of a dick, dbf!joel, au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is early 20s, and Joel is 56). No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.

A/N: Posting this a day late as I literally only started writing it yesterday out of nowhere. Enjoy!

Joel's annual fourth of July party was in full swing. Children were running around with sparklers, families were gathered around picnic tables laden with food, and the air was filled with music. Tommy was in control of the music, so of course, AC/DC and Lynard Skynrd had been playing all day. The smell of grilling burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly mowed grass and the tang of chlorine from the pool.

You spotted Joel near the grill, expertly flipping burgers and chatting animatedly with your dad. You felt a flutter of excitement, eager to see him after your last…hangout. As you approached, he glanced your way but quickly looked away, focusing intently on the food.

"Hey, Joel," you called out, trying to sound casual despite the nervous anticipation in your voice.

"Hey," he replied, not meeting your eyes, his tone brisk. He immediately turned to your dad, asking about the game they were planning to watch tomorrow.

You hovered nearby, hoping for a chance to talk, but every time you tried to engage him, he found a way to sidestep your attempts. First, he asked another guest to grab more buns from the kitchen. Then, he excused himself to check on the drinks. Each time you approached, he either walked away or started a conversation with someone else.

Determined not to give up, you followed him to the drinks table, where he was refilling the coolers with ice and beverages. "Joel, can we talk for a minute?" you asked, keeping your voice low.

"I'm busy right now," he said curtly, not even glancing up. He continued to work, his movements tense and hurried.

Your frustration grew as the party continued. You watched him from across the yard, perched on a bench gripping your solo cup tightly as he laughed and chatted with everyone else while avoiding you like the plague. You noticed the way he stiffened whenever you were nearby, how he seemed to find any excuse to move away from you.

“Hey, loner,” your friend Kayleigh slid in next to you, nudging your side. You didn’t answer.

“Um… you…oka-.”

“Not right now, Kay,” you answer abruptly, standing up to get yourself another drink. You downed it in one to try and quell the unease sitting in your stomach. Although it just made you feel even more sick. Something was up.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow and someone had started setting up fireworks for later. Joel had just left the grill, heading toward the house with a tray of empty dishes. This was your chance. With a few more drinks in your system, you'd found the courage to quickly follow him, catching up as he reached the back door.

"Joel, we need to talk. Now," you said firmly, grabbing his arm to stop him.

He looked around, clearly uncomfortable, his eyes darting to make sure no one was watching. "Not here," he muttered.

You tailed him into the kitchen.

He began absent-mindedly washing up some dishes with his back to you.

"Alright, what’s going on? Why have you been ignoring me all day?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest trying to sound confident.

“How much have you had to drink?” He said, ignoring your question.

“Not a lot,” you retorted, heat rising up your body.

“That’s a fuckin’ lie,” he scoffed in his southern drawl.

“Oh, so I'm the bad person now, huh?” You replied a little too loudly. “I’m just some silly little girl who doesn’t know anything, running around after you, wondering when you might fuck me next!”

Joel threw a dish into the sink with a loud clatter, making you jump. He turned to face you, his eyes flashing. "You think this is easy for me?" he hissed, keeping his voice low but intense.

Before you could respond, the kitchen door swung open.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. "Just grabbing another drink. Everything okay in here?"

"Yeah, just fine," Joel replied dryly, turning away from you to look out at the yard.

Tommy lingered momentarily, grabbing a drink from the fridge and chatting casually about the party. “We’re settin’ the fireworks off soon,” he said smugly with a toothy grin.

“Oh, great.” You feigned excitement, trying to act normal, but your heart pounded.

The moment he was gone, Joel turned to you, his eyes fixed. "We can't do this here," he said through gritted teeth.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Then where? When? You can't just avoid me forever, Joel."

Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine. Upstairs. Now." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed toward the stairs, tugging you along by your arm.

You struggled to keep up with him as his heavy boots marched up the stairs; the drink made coordinating your feet very difficult.

Joel turned to face you once you were in his all-to-familiar bedroom with the door closed behind you.

“This needs to stop,” he said sternly.

Your heart dropped at his words. "Stop what? Us?"

"Yes. Us. It’s wrong, and it’s only goin’ to end badly. For both of us." He placed his hands on his hips.

"But we make each other happy. Isn’t that enough?" You said franticly.

"It’s not that simple," his voice strained. "Your dad… if he ever found out… it would be such a mess.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. "But he doesn’t have to find out. We’ve been so careful. Please, Joel…I love you,” you sobbed as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as your fingers twisted in his plaid shirt. The warmth radiating from his body seeped into your bones like a cruel comfort.

"Shhh, I know, baby, it’s okay." Joel hushed, stroking your hair. “It's just so complicated.”

“I don’t care” you pulled back, searching his eyes for any sign that he might change his mind. But all you saw was resignation.

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don't do this."

He cupped your face in his hands. “You deserve better than this. Better than sneakin’ around and hidin’. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

"But I don't want anyone else," you cried, tears streaming down your face. God, you probably looked like a blabbering mess. "I want you."

Joel closed his eyes, pain etched into his features. "And I want you, too. More than you know. But this... it ain't right, darlin’,” and there is was; his velvet drawl reeling you in again. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, and something inside you snapped. The finality of his touch felt like a betrayal. You shoved him back with all your strength, your hands shaking with anger and hurt.

"Don't you dare!" You shouted, your voice trembling with rage. "Don't you fucking dare tell me what's right for me. You don't get to decide that."

Joel just stood there and took it.

“I wish I never fucking met you,” you muttered.

You pushed him again, harder this time. "I wish I never fucking met you!” You repeated.

Joel's expression hardened, and in an instant, he grabbed your arms, backing you up against the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of you. Your eyes were wide as his burned into you, and for a moment, you were actually scared of him. But before you could protest, he was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He roughly hiked up your sundress and lifted you up by the backs of your thighs.

"This is what you want?" Joel growled, his voice low and intense. "One last time, huh?"

"Joel, please...", you gasped.

Your heart raced as his lips sloppily crashed against yours. It was intoxicating; you could smell his cologne and the beer on his breath as you wrapped yourself around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him. One last time.

The room spun around you, the noise from the party outside fading into oblivion as he slipped your panties to the side and entered you all at once. You took a sharp breath at the sudden stretch you were unprepared for. His movements were driven by a desperate need, forcing himself into you with a mixture of pain and pleasure as you clung to him like your life depended on it. The boom of fireworks outside was the only momentary glitter of light as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and ass; you’d hoped to find bruises there in the morning. A flash of red, then white, then blue lit up the right side of his face."You drive me fuckin’ crazy," he leaned in to mutter against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. "I can't stop thinkin’ ‘bout you."

"Th-then… d-don't," you struggled to get your words out as he knocked the air out of you. “J-just b-be with me..."

“Aaah, fuck, who’s got good pussy baby?” Joel growled, his voice low and rough.

"I... I do," you gasped, barely able to breathe as he thrust brutally against your cervix, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

"Say it again," he demanded, his pace relentless. "Say it again, baby. I need to hear it."

"I do! " You screamed, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths. "I-I’ve got good pussy, Joel. It’s all y-yours!”

"Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he spat. "Screwing your daddy's best friend." He whispered, raw and guttural, sending shivers through you. You could see the intensity in his eyes, his primal need for you. You started to be able to take him more easily as you became wet with arousal. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour, every part of you alight with pleasure. Joel’s hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he pounded into you."Ugh…yes, Joel,” you moaned, nails clawing at his salt-and-pepper locks to pull his lips to yours. “l love it w-when you f-fuck me.”

“Hmm, always feel so good, baby,” he pants, as his cock relentlessly slides in and out of your puffy lips. Each thrust hit that sweet spot deep within you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.

“That’s it, baby, it’s okay, just cum for me, cum all over this cock.”

Your body trembled as you cried out his name, your pleasure shattering through you in waves. You closed your eyes tight, feeling yourself gripping every inch of him as you dug your fingers into his shoulders. Joel held you through it, his strong arms keeping you secured against him and the wall as you came apart.

He followed soon after, his release a powerful, shuddering thing that left him collapsing onto you. He emptied every last bit of him into you with a growl.  You pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting for breath. He pulled out of you with a groan, releasing your legs and letting your feet find the ground again. You shuffled awkwardly, rearranging your underwear and smoothing out your dress. Joel looked away, avoiding your eyes as he did his jeans and belt back up. The silence between you was thick and heavy.

"Is this really it, then?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your composure.

Joel sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "It has to be. We can't keep doin’ this."

You felt a surge of anger rise in your chest. "So that's it? You just use me one last time and then throw me away?"

He finally met your gaze. "It’s not like that. I never wanted it to end this way.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face.

"But we can’t keep playin’ childish fuckin’ games, and you’re too naive to see the damage this could cause.”

"Don’t you dare put this all on me," you snapped, your voice rising. "You’re the one who started this.”

Joel took a step back. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I can’t see you again,” he said coldly.

You turned away, your heart shattering with every word he said. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. "Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, storming toward the door. You yanked it open and stepped into the hallway.

Downstairs, the sounds of the party continued but it all sounded like you were underwater.

You moved quickly to the front door and stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting your tear-streaked face. You hugged your arms and walked quickly. The air smelt like sulphur as fireworks illuminated the sky. You didn’t stop until you reached home.

The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed in a vise, each breath harder to draw than the last. You could barely see through the blur of tears as you climbed the stairs, having to use your hands to steady yourself.

You reached your room and slammed the door shut, leaning against it for support. Your legs trembled, and you slid down until you was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. You clenched your fists, trying to push down the sobs, threatening to break free. You had known the risks, known how wrong it was, but you hadn't been able to help yourself.

Fucking your dad’s best friend, what did you expect; thought you’d live happily ever after with a white picket fence?

Maybe Joel was right. Maybe you were too naïve. You were fucking crazy to think this could have ended any other way.

But no one made you feel like Joel did. No one felt like Joel did. It was electric. The way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive, cherished, and understood, no one had ever come close. Joel was everything you had ever wanted and more. But now, it was all over.

A soft knock on your door. "Sweetie, can we talk?" Your dad’s voice was gentle, but you couldn't face him.

"Go away," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Wondered where you were. You’re missing the fireworks, honey.”

"Please, just leave me alone."

“Hm, Joel did say you weren't feelin’ well, had too much to drink?”

How so desperately you wanted to tell your dad everything just to relieve some of the weight off of your shoulders, but how could you? How could you tell him, oh, by the way, I've been fucking your best friend behind your back for months, buts he’s just ended things and torn my heart into a million pieces? I know exactly just how many kisses fit between his eyes? I know the face he makes when he cums, and I think I can actually feel his cum leaking out of me right now?

divider credit to @kthice

*title inspired by "Once More to See You" by Mitski

[pvmarketofficial]

Hybrid Inverters Explained: Features, Benefits, and Installation

A hybrid inverter is an advanced component of renewable energy systems that combines the functions of both a solar inverter and a battery inverter. It enables efficient energy management by seamlessly integrating solar power generation, battery storage, and grid connection. Here’s a detailed description of hybrid inverters and their installation

[loves0phelia]

Saturday Meetings

Summery: When Eddie learns Y/N has a similar music taste as him everything change.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Bullying, fighting, grammar mistakes.

Eddie Munson was always seen as a freak ever since he entered highschool. The basketball team, cheerleaders, party kids and even the smart kids thought he was a satanist for listening to metal music and wearing ripped jeans accompanied with chains. The permanent ink that decorated his skin did not help his case either. 

High school was a nuisance for Eddie. The only thing that motivated him was the Hell Fire club. A club where kids from juniors to seniors played dungeons and dragons.

For the members, this game meant the world, it was packed with excitement and fun. Yet, for others, it served as a tool for bullying.

During lunch you sat multiple tables away from him. You were dressed in the usual green, white and yellow cheerleading uniform the school provided, your hair pulled back into a neatly curled ponytail, you blended in with the rest of the team. But deep down, you were different. You had a passion for the same things as Eddie Munson. It was a part of you no one else could ever know.

Your Metalica, Black Sabbath and AC/DC cassette were tucked away underneath Madonna and tears for tears inside your backpack. You thought how Eddie was freely listening to the music you loved so dearly while you couldn't. 

Your head turned over your shoulder and you watched as he talked. His arms were flying around as he expressed himself. His big and extraverted gestures made you giggle. Nobody at your table was this extravagant. Seeing someone like him felt refreshing. You always wondered what it was like having spontaneous conversation was like. At your table it was like a routine. Sport, girls/boys, parties, repeat.

“What are you looking at?" Jason's voice broke your concentration, prompting you to snap your head back to face him. He was sitting directly across from you at the cafeteria table.

"Oh, it's nothing," you attempted to brush him off, but the concern in everyone’s faces at your table made it impossible to avoid.

“You sure? Looks like you were looking at Munson” The judgment in his voice was clear. It was like mentioning his name burned his tongue.

"I, um, I was just... he looks weird, doesn't he?" you stammered, trying to save the situation. His brow furrowed as he glanced between you and him. The concern dissolved from his face as he chuckled and nodded in agreement with your previous statement. With a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders relaxed, and your racing heart gradually slowed its pace.

Your anxious gaze met Chrissy's, Jason's girlfriend, and she responded with a gentle smile. In that moment, her glance was reassuring, silently letting you know that everything was okay. 

…

That night, you layed in bed, the sound of "Thunderstruck" blasting through your Walkman, was drowning out the world around you as you stared up at the ceiling, thoughts filled your mind, wondering how different life could be if you were surrounded by people who truly understood you, rather than pretending to fit in where you clearly didn't belong.

“Y/n!” Your heart dropped when you barely heard your name over the music. You threw The headphones off and you saw your mom in the doorway.

“What is it mom?” You asked and sat up.

"I've been calling that dinner's ready for the past 10 minutes. Are you still listening to that crazy music?" she sighed, rolling her eyes as the sound echoed from the headphones now abandoned beside you.

“Come downstairs, now” she scolded and you followed her down to the kitchen where once again you talked about school, boys and sports instead of something that really interested you.

…

The next morning, the thought of staying home was tempting. Everything seemed to conspire against you, discouraging any motivation to face another day of repeating the same exact routine as the day before.

But you knew your parents would not want you to stay home.

As the school bus pulled up in front of your house, you found yourself once again lost in your music, the volume cranked up high enough to fill your ears but low enough to keep the people around you from hearing it..

When it arrived at its destination people rushed to get out of the yellow vehicle. You, on the other hand, walked slowly deadring the moment you will have to enter class.

As you turned the corner in the main hallway, you collided with someone so hard that the Walkman's headphones slipped off your head and began to fall to the ground. The cord connecting the headphones to the cassette player on your waist tugged, causing it to tumble to the floor as well making the Metallica cassette spill out onto the ground.

“Oh I'm sorry sweetheart” your heart pounds against your chest when you finally recognized the boy you bumped into.

“Let me get that for you- Metalica?” He examined the cassette as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

“You really listen to that?” his smirk is inevitable.

“No. It's- uh, for my brother” You snatched the cassette from his hand.

“You don't even have a brother” He laughed when he caught your lie.

“How would you know that?” 

"We've been in the same classes for two years, Y/N." The sound of your name rolling off his tongue sends a shiver down your spine.

In this moment you noticed how Andy and two other boys from the basketball team looked at you and Eddie as they passed.

In a hurry you grabbed his hand and tugged him away into the nearest janitor closet.

"You know, you could've asked me out first before dragging me in here, but I guess I'll give you points for spontaneity," he says with a smirk, his confidence made you roll your eyes and slap his forearm.

“You cannot tell anyone that you saw this alright?” You shoved the cassette into his face. ”Jason would ruin my life and probably find a way to kick me out of the team because he thinks it's… it’s satanic” Eddie sighed harshly.

“Fine. But-”

“No buts!” 

“BUT you have to help me with O'donnell's test for next month” you considered it for a moment. If anyone saw you with him they would probably do worse then kick you off the team. But you didn't have a choice.

“Fine but you come to my place on Saturday nights, and you have to come through my window.”

“Exciting, romantic, I like it”

“This is not romantic!” and just at this very moment you noticed how tight the closet was. How close your bodies were. “I- Am going to get out and you have to wait 5 minutes before you do, understood?” 

“Understood, maam” he nodded and quickly you came out of the closet. Fresh air immediately brushed on you.

The rest of the week went smoothly, you sneaked glances at him every now and then but nothing was abnormal. During the integrality of Saturday you were impatient for the moment eddie would come knocking on your window. And when he did you were listening to one of your many vinyls, as you opened the window and welcomed him in.

“Holy shit” he whispered as he took in your room. In his head it would have been filled with pinks and purples, neat and well organized. But there were vinyls of his favorite bands on the wall next to posters and a concert ticket framed in a black picture frame. You had books scattered on your desk that he had also read, and 5 pairs of different colors converse on the floor.

“You are full of surprises”  He had said and you just ignored the compliment and went 

straight to studying.

On the following Saturday night, Eddie returned without fail, and you both studied again. As the hours passed, midnight approached and you were both tired and yawning.

“I should go,” He said as he started gathering his notebooks and his backpack.

"Same time next Saturday?" you inquired as Eddie made his way halfway out of your window.

He nodded, a sweet smile lighting up his face, making your stomach erupt with butterflies.  Every Saturday preceding the test, unfolded the same way. Sometimes you found yourselves watching movies, almost cuddling, his arm draped around your shoulder, and occasionally you allowed your head to rest on him.

Friday, the day before your last study session before the math test, was a game day. You knew Eddie and his club had a reunion the same day but you still invited him to come watch your cheerleading routine along with his friends.

Surprise flickered across your face as you spotted him in the stands just before the end of the game. His unexpected presence threatened to throw you off balance, but you swiftly regained your focus.

After the game, as the team was heading back to the locker room, Jason spotted Eddie lagging behind waiting for you.

"Waiting for the girls to come out, perv?” Jason sneered, his minions laughing along with him.

Eddie tried to brush off the insults, but Jason's words cut deep. Just as Jason was about to deliver another cutting remark, you came out of the changing room holding your sport bag.

you looked between them for a second in silence. Eddie looked at you and a lightbulb lightened up on Jason’s head.

“Oh I see what's going on here. Munson’s got a crush on y/n!” His loud tone made everyone grow quiet. Students nearby started surrounding them, their eyes darting between Jason and Eddie. Eddie's cheeks burned with humiliation as he struggled to find the courage to respond

“Sorry to break it to you but a cheerleader would never go for a freak like you” With a smirk on his face, Jason draped his arm around you in a cocky way. It was in no way near as comforting as Eddie's embrace.

“Fuck off, Carver” you pushed him off your body. His smirk faltered for a moment as he received the unexpected rejection, but he quickly regained his composure, scoffing at Y/N's boldness. 

"Really, y/n? You're into Munson now? I didn't think you would go that slow but you've always been a slut” he shrugged and some people around you snickered and some other gasped

Jason's menacing presence loomed over you. You stood frozen after the words came out of his mouth. Eddie stepped forward, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he positioned himself between you and him.

Eddie hesitated before striking a punch right into his jaw. Jason’s head flew to the right and he stumbled backwards. Everyone gasped loudly.

With a fierce growl, Jason lunged forward, aiming a wild swing at Eddie's nose. But he was quicker. With fast reflexes, Eddie ducked under his punch and returned one to Jason’s gut, earning a grunt of pain.

The fight was on. Fists flew as Eddie and Jason traded blows. The students who were gathered around cheers added to the chaotic atmosphere.

“Stop!” You screamed but they were blinded by rage and humiliation.

Despite Jason’s size and strength, Eddie held his ground. With each blow, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The echoes of grunts, cheers and strikes alarmed various teachers and when they saw the scene, they were both separated. The boys were panting and Jason was quick to put the blame on Eddie.

He looked at you desperately before walking into the crowd of students to storm out of the school ignoring the calls of a teacher demanding him to stay and explain himself.

You dropped your sport bag with your uniform inside and ran after him. 

“Eddie, wait” Once outside you saw him about to enter his van. Your calls stopped him and he turned to face you. You didn't fail to notice the large bruise on his cheekbone already forming.

“Eds- im so sorry” he shook his head dismissing your apology.

"It wasn't your fault, Y/N," He reassured you softly, and in a swift movement, you wrapped your arms around his chest. At first, surprise made him motionless, but after a few moments, he returned the embrace, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Y/n” A much softer voice called out behind you. You and Eddie both looked toward it and Chrissy was standing there holding your bag.

“This is yours. Right?” She extended her arm.

“You can keep it Chrissy… my uniform is in it, now that Jason knows, nobody will want me on the team” 

“I want you on the team, and I'm the captain” she pushed the bag inside your arms. “If someone has a problem with your relationship with Eddie, they will be kicked off the team.”

“Were not in a-” Eddie started with a shy tone.

“Thanks Chrissy” you hugged her tightly before saying your goodbyes.

“Bye Eddie. See you monday y/n, love you”

“Are we in a relationship?” His question is genuine and full of curiosity.

“I- uhm, do you want to be?” 

“Hell yeah I want to. The whole studying shit was just an excuse to spend time with you!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face.

“What?!” 

“Do you actually think I, Eddie Munson, would study willingly?” He giggled. 

"I can't believe you," you said between giggles, resting your head on his chest as laughter bubbled up between you both.

With a hesitant yet determined step forward, Eddie closed the distance between you, his hand reached out to gently cup your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of Eddie's touch, a shiver of anticipation traveled your body. Eddie leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

And then, with a tender brush of his lips against yours, Eddie closed the gap, sealing your lips with a soft kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building between you.

And when you  finally pulled away, your lips tingled with the lingering sensation of his kiss, the fight long forgotten. You knew that this was just the beginning of yours and his journey together—a journey filled with passion, love, and endless possibilities.

[vikwrites]

Playboy - Tony Stark

Summary ➣ Tony Stark invites you into his Rolls Royce. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 2.5k words Warnings ➣ 18+ / Car Sex / Power Imbalance / Age Gap. Author's Notes ➣ The first full Tony Stark oneshot! Comments are highly appreciated <3 Requests are also open!

You didn’t know exactly how you ended up here. 

The events leading up to your current situation were a blur, like trying to see through thick fog. 

Here you were, seated in the plush backseat of Tony Stark's lavish Rolls Royce Phantom. A variety of crystal glasses in all shapes and sizes were scattered haphazardly, some full, most empty. The rich aroma of Macallan 1926 filled the air. A bottle had been tipped on its side, its deep tones spilling onto the seat and seeping into a crevice of the leather, leaving behind a multitude of stains, You wonder how many times Tony had to pay someone to clean up these messes.

The past few hours were a hazy mix of neon lights and blaring speakers, the repercussions of Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC filling your ears.  

Then you recalled that Tony had spotted you at Stark Expo, at the Arc Reactor exhibit, standing in front of the machine, mesmerized by the pulsing reactor and the hypnotic hum that filled the room. 

Tony had made the first approach and talked to you for a while, although most of the conversation consisted of you awkwardly sucking up to him, while another part of you was afraid of saying something embarrassing or coming off as too eager.

You never thought you'd be graced with the opportunity to even be in the same room as Tony Stark, let alone talk to him face-to-face. But as the conversation went on, you felt more and more intimidated. You had always admired Tony and maybe even had a bit of a crush on him, but now that he was standing in front of you, you didn't know what to say or do. 

However, when you were invited to his limousine, you couldn't resist. He had lured you in like a moth into flame. 

The air was thick with tension, your fingers found themselves subconsciously fidgeting, you were sitting mere inches away from Tony after all; who was currently fiddling with a Cuban cigar. Your heart raced with a cocktail of excitement and fear - after all, this was the Tony Stark, one of the most influential figures in the world, and you were just a mere woman-in-the-street. This man probably had more money in his wallet than you’d ever have in your entire life. 

Tony seemed to have picked up on your nervousness, reaching over to the mini-fridge and picking up another bottle of liquid courage. The cigar had found its way in his mouth, and is currently hanging from his lips.

“Mr Stark—” You stuttered, trying to reach for the rear-hinged doors of the car, “I’d think it would be best if I left, it’s getting late.” 

“Relax, honey.” As Tony's hand unexpectedly settled on your wrist, pulling you back, the sudden weight caught you off guard. You couldn't help but flinch when you felt his fingers close around your wrist. His touch gentle yet assertive, a delicate balance that leaves you feeling conflicted. He takes another drag of the cigar.

Internally, you battled with conflicting emotions, but externally, you remained still as his hand steadily guided another crystal glass into your grasp, the weight of the cold drink dragging you back to reality. Initially you wanted to refuse, but you didn’t want to let Stark down, or seem ungrateful—downing the whiskey, you felt the liquid burn your throat.

His hand on yours caused a weighty pause in your conversation, Tony smirked, finding it amusing how tense he made you. Eventually, he breaks the silence by redirecting the conversation towards you. "So, tell me about yourself," he prompts, his tone casual and easy. Another cigar made its way into his mouth. 

You took a moment to recollect your thoughts before answering. "I'm studying at MIT," you replied, "I'm pursuing my degree in Nuclear Engineering." As soon as the words leave your lips, you notice Stark raise an eyebrow in surprise, seemingly impressed by the mention of your alma mater.  

Tony leans back in his seat and exclaims, "Impressive, I’m going to assume I’ve probably funded one of your projects, you’ve been to the September Foundation Grant presentation right?" He turns to look at you, as if trying to make a connection. You nod and continue to take small sips of your Macallan whiskey. 

After a few more rounds, you found yourself becoming less tense around him. 

“—and he’s now the forehead of security, get it?” Tony giggled, clapping his hands at his own joke, his laughter was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along with him, feeling a sense of camaraderie that you hadn't experienced in a long time. He takes another puff of the cigar, attempting to blow smoke rings but failing horrifically, the supposedly circular puffs of smoke coming out in flattened, unidentifiable shapes.

"Mr. Stark-" you began, but were quickly cut off by the man himself.

"Please, dear," Stark offered with a shake of his head, "just call me Tony."

You took a deep breath, trying to muster up courage (as much courage as you could get while being mildly to severely intoxicated, you couldn’t tell at this point), and corrected yourself. "Tony," you said firmly, hoping to sound more confident than you felt. "Why did you invite me here?" The question hung in the air amongst the clouds of smoke.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tony raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think you’re cute.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his bold statement. Did Tony Stark really just say that to you?

“Fuck, Tony Stark thinks I’m cute, never expected that, ever.” But before you could fully process the unexpected compliment, another thought crossed your mind. “Looking past the obvious," you continued, "why isn’t there some Playboy supermodel in my position? Aren’t you just slumming it?” 

“Your expectations of me are too high, darling,” Tony drawled, his voice dripping with charm and confidence. “Honestly, I’d call Playboy right now and make you a model right away. You’ve got the face for it,” he paused to rake his eyes over your body, biting his lip, “—and the bod.” 

A rush of heat spread through your body at his words, igniting a spark of desire that you couldn't deny. The atmosphere became charged with tension, but this time, in a good way. The constant pet names and lingering gazes from Tony were stirring you up, and you could feel something else crackling in the air between you two.

You wouldn't say no to his advances, not when his gaze was so intense and his touch so electric. After all, who would say no to Tony Stark? His smooth words and charming smile were enough to make any woman weak at the knees, and you were no exception.

“I just think that you could do better.” You muttered, all the confidence draining from you the moment he tries to make a move, you cursed yourself for it. 

“Quit being self conscious and just kiss me.” Tony's words were like a soothing balm to your inner turmoil, urging you to let go of your self-consciousness and just give in to the moment. As he leaned in, his lips met yours in a swift motion that caught you off guard. 

Your hands instinctively found their way to his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you melted into his embrace. While his hands grabbed at your hair, caging you in between his body and the leather seat. The taste of his lips and the warmth of his body enveloped you, drowning out the nagging voice in your head reminding you of all the reasons why this could be a mistake. Tony moaned into your mouth, you took a mental recording of that, hoping to replay it in your head later.

In this moment, nothing else mattered except for the feel of his touch and the heat that pulsed between the two of you. You surrender yourself completely, allowing yourself to be swept away by his kiss.

The cigar was carelessly discarded from his trembling hands, the smoke swirling in lazy wisps around the ash urn. The taste of tobacco still lingered on his lips, a bittersweet reminder of his vice. Your senses were heightened as you pulled away from the kiss, your hair tousled and wild from the frenzied grabbing. The two of you shared round after round of kisses, each one more desperate and passionate than the last till Tony decided to go further.

Tony pushed you down onto the seat, his movements were rough and uncoordinated, but it only added to the thrill. Your body responded to his manhandling, and you could feel yourself getting turned on. You laid horizontally on the car's leather seats, taking in the sight of stars twinkling on the headlining, but your attention was quickly diverted as Tony's lips crashed onto yours once again.

"You look so good underneath me, baby." he whispered in that seductive low tone of his, his mouth mere millimetres from your ear. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine and each vibration of his words seemed to make you even wetter. 

Your breath hitched in surprise as Tony's hand traveled down to your core, his fingers grazing the hem of your dress and revealing more of your skin. You were startled by the sudden move but couldn't deny the heat that pooled between your legs. His touch was tentative, tracing circles over your clothed clit with a slow, teasing stroke. Your moans grew louder as he continued, each touch feeling foreign yet undeniably pleasurable.

"F—Fuck," you gasped as his piercing gaze met yours, those maroon eyes no longer their gentle brown hue.

"God, you're so wet for me," Tony's eyes locked onto yours as he brought his glistening finger to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low moan. Just the sight of it nearly sent you over the edge. "And you taste even better." Your eyes rolled back at his declaration, you’re so close and he hasn’t even started yet. 

Your fingers trembled as they reached for the button of Tony's Tom-Ford dress pants, fumbling with it in a desperate frenzy. In this moment, your entire existence seemed to depend on getting his pants off and feeling his naked skin against yours. Tony's hands were still on your clit, his skilled fingers teasing you mercilessly.

You could barely focus on unbuttoning his pants as he brought you closer and closer to the edge with just two fingers, god he was good. Every touch from him felt like electricity pulsing through your body, igniting every nerve ending and making you forget everything else except for the pleasure he was giving you.

"Please, Tony," you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate. Your body quivered as two fingers slipped into your slick pussy, the wet sounds echoing in the confined space of the car.

At first, Tony's movements were slow and deliberate, teasing and tempting every inch of your sensitive walls. But he knew how to push all your buttons and soon, you were clenching around his fingers, begging for more.

"I'm gonna come," you gasped out, feeling your orgasm building with each thrust of his fingers.

"Come for me, baby,” Tony growled lowly, his voice making you even more wet. "I wanna see you falling apart on just my fingers." And with those words, you unravelled in a mind-blowing climax, your body trembling and shaking against his skilled touch.

As you came down from your high, you felt a new sensation. You realized you had squirted all over the interior of the car, but at that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was how good Tony made you feel.

You were dazed and lost in the haze of pleasure when you felt him shuffling over you. His pants were unbuttoned and his cock was in his hand, slowly stroking as he took in the sight before him: your flushed skin, your heaving chest, and the evidence of your pleasure coating the seat beneath you.

You let out a soft gasp as he playfully teases you, running his member along your slit. With regained control over your limbs, your hands find their way into his once-slicked back, now ruffled hair. Your legs lock behind his lower back, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to deepen the connection between you two.

His voice is low and husky as he groans, "Your tight pussy feels so good, darling." As he pushes into you, you feel a fullness that you've never experienced before. The initial sting of pain quickly gives way to a deep pleasure that radiates through your entire body.

"Fuck, I love you, Tony." The words escape your lips before you even have time to register them. The intensity of the moment sparking a declaration that surprises even yourself. But before you can worry about whether it was too soon or not, Tony returns the sentiment.

"Love you too, baby," he whispers as he bottoms out inside of you. You can feel every inch of him inside you, and the sensation causes you to writhe beneath him. His chest is pressed against yours, and you can feel his heart beating through the fabric of his suit that was yet to leave his figure, but you figured you’d see him without the suit another time. 

“Fuck, gonna be a good girl and take my cum?” Tony's deep, ragged breaths spurred you on as his orgasm neared. You could feel your own climax building, your body shuddering in anticipation. Unable to form coherent sentences, you nodded in response.

Your back arched off the leather couch as you reached your peak, crying out in ecstasy as Tony's movements became even more frenzied. "Yes, gonna come so hard, Tony. Need you so bad." Your words were barely audible through your moans as he grunted and thrust into you one final time before the both of you came. 

Breathless and spent, Tony's lips crashed down on yours once again.

The heat between your bodies was almost suffocating as you rode out your high. He remained inside you until he was soft, and when he finally pulled out, a trail of your arousal leaked onto the leather beneath you. A groan escaped him as he took in the sinful sight, but you were too lost in your pleasure-drunk haze to fully register it.

You're too spent to move, but from the hazy corner of your vision, you see him in front of a mirror slicking back his disheveled hair. Still dazed and caught up in the aftermath of your orgasm, it took you a while to gather yourself and get dressed. But as soon as you did, Tony turned to you with his trademark smirk. 

"So, about that Playboy call?"

⎊ back to masterlist

[taylormarieee]

~A hunter's first love~

A dean winchester drabble

Summary: You were dean's first love, yeah I know it's hard to believe with every girl he's been with but you... you were different from the rest, here's you guy's story...

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: dean winchester x hunter!reader

Warnings: kissing, mentions of death, mentions of blood, typical supernatural stuff, dean confessing, angst, a argument, dean being a bit of a jerk, a lil actual smut, piv sex, dean himself, trauma dumping, also reader isn't a hunter in the beginning but closer to the end she is.

A/N: I've been meaning to post this one for awhile but it's just been an idea in the back of my head. I NEED to write for dean more, and I swear I will, my word is my bond guys even tho sometimes i don't commit, ntm on me tho, love y'all and enjoy!

You were dean's very first love. Yea he had that chick in highschool but there were always chicks digging him in high school.

didn't mean he loved them. dean never did meeting parents and saying I love you. he was a cold kid that broke everything.

distanced himself from the people who needed him most. the exceptions were sammy and you.

something about you was special, something about you made dean's heart ache. it made him feel things that he usually would never feel.

he met you when sammy had went off to college to do his own thing. he was proud of sammy but he felt alone. yes of course he had his dad but there were nights where dad would always be gone and dean was left to handle himself.

but that was before you. during you, when he met you in the bar for the very first time, you looked like you were having a hellish day.

"bad day?" he asks as he slides into the barstool, drink in hand. you chuckle and look at him. your eyes widen a bit at how attractive he is.

"y-yea, s-something like that." you stutter as you take another sip of your brandy. after that you both kinda just hit it off.

laughing and having deep genuine conversations. he told you his name and you told him yours. he even offered you a ride back home to which you gladly accepted.

"thank you for the ride dean, I really appreciate it." you thank him and then get ready to walk up the stairs to your apartment but you pause.

"would you like to come inside? I just feel bad for making you take me home and then not offering you anything to sober you up a little. just come inside, please?" you ask.

he smiles and nods. "yea yea sure, i'd love to come inside." he says with a smirk on his face when he stands next to you.

"must you ruin the moment?" you hit him playfully as you chuckle.

"hell yea!" he exclaims with a chuckle as well. you unlock the door to your apartment and step inside. it's not the best but it's enough for you and it was simple and modern and you loved it.

dean seemed to have loved it too, to him though, it was very old-schooled. very 90's. you had these cute posters and paintings on walls. little records piled up on the coffee table.

it was adorable. it was very you. you had an electric guitar on a stand next to your tv in the living room and you had all your favorite rock band cd's splayed everywhere on the couch.

"just gimme a sec, I didn't exactly expect company." you say shyly.

"oh no, your totally fine. I dig it. AC/DC? I love it." he says pointing at the band poster framed up on your wall.

"oh that's old, my dad gave it to me, I basically grew up listening to many rock bands. guns n roses, AC/DC, Metallica, yk the goodies." you smile up at dean.

"that poster was actually signed by the entire band when my dad got a backstage pass. He was so happy til the day he died." you say staring at the poster with a smile on your face.

"guessing he got the best day mug when you were a kid huh?" he says with a smile.

you laugh and shake your head. "yea actually, I did get him one for his birthday one year, he had the proudest smile ever when he saw Axl Rose's signature on it." you smile.

"wow, you were the best daughter." he exclaims.

"I mean I tried to be. my mom split when I was eight and that took a huge chunk outta my dad's heart. so I slowly had to rebuild it back again. I missed seeing him happy. It was just me n him, no point in trying to make life harder than it already was." you explain.

"Yea I get that. your better than me. see when I was little me, my mom, my dad? we were the happiest family. and then when my baby brother was born, I was so happy! but uhm a few months after he was born my uh my mom died. then it was just me my dad and sammy." he explains.

"that was hard for all of us. even harder for sammy considering he never even got to talk to his mother. my dad was hard on me and sammy growing up. I of course was always the lash out kid, constantly angry, never liking how he acted or did stuff. then of course that anger when out to sam because I couldn't yell at my dad, I was 10." he continues.

you hum to let him know your still listening and you grab him some water and prop it on the coffee table in front of you two.

"thanks. but yea, sammy never really understood why we always moved, never stayed in one place too long until he got tired of it. tired of that lifestyle. now he's in college and he's thriving, my dad on the other hand, he's avoiding me any chance he gets but hey, I would avoid me too if I was him. I break everything I touch." he finishes, taking a long gulp of his water.

you both sit in silence for a second and dean looks at you, hoping you say something other than "get out of my house."

"oh dean, I'm so sorry. no child should ever have to go through that. and I can assure you dean, you don't break everything you touch, I'm here and see! I'm not broken, i'm standing ten toes behind you." you says with a smile.

"I hunt monsters for a living with my dad. and we kill them so they can't ahrm people anymore." he blurted out randomly. he wanted to push you away, because he was falling in love with you too quickly. he wanted you to see him as scary.

your eyes widen. you pause. your hand is still on his arm and his thigh. you blink once, then twice. your jaw opens to say something but closes again.

"speak now, scream now, curse me out or forever hold your peace and i'll leave." he says.

you immediately spoke not wanting him to leave. "don't leave. I'm just a little shocked is all. do you and your dad really do that? does your brother know?" you ask.

"Why do you think he went off to college, to live a normal life like the rest of you." dean says.

"wow. uhm that's a lot to take in. thank you for telling me. there are parts of me that don't believe you, but i'm going to trust my heart. I believe you dean. you're a hero."

"I'm not a hero, i'm a monster." he says.

"you save people dean, how is that you being a monster." you counter.

"because it's almost like i enjoy it, the thrill."

"ok but heros i'm sure enjoy the thrill as well."

"That's not the same thing sweetheart I-"

"Why can't you just accept that your not a monster."

"because I lived with this my whole life ok? I am a monster."

"ok, but you help people, how do monsters do that? how is that YOU being a monster?"

"Because I just am!" he shouts at you. you gasp and scoot away from him.

"oh, i'm sorry. I won't bring it up."

"for fuck's sake, I'm sorry sweetheart. I-I didn't mean to shout at you, i'm sorry. c'mere." he says.

you scoot back to him and he wraps your body in a hug.

"what are you so scared of dean? If your brother can live a normal life, why can't you? why do you think you don't deserve a happy ending?" you ask.

you look up at him with puppy dog eyes and he folds immediately. he kisses the top of your head and smiles down at you.

"you really think I'm a good person? you truly believe I could have a happy ending?'" he asks.

"If I didn't think so, would I have bickered with you about it like a toddler?" you ask with a chuckle.

he laughs.

"I guess not."

you both stare at each other for a good 2 minutes before you look down at his lips. he looks at you and stares at your lips as well.

you lean up closer to his face, your noses touching. he closes his eyes, waiting for it to happen. he of course wasn't prepared for his mind's decision to pull away.

"I have to go sweetheart. I'm sorry." he says as he pulls away from you. he can't bare to look at you as he stands up from the couch but he does it anyway and his heart sinks.

your pouting. god why must you look so good when you pout. "oh, please stay dean, I don't want to be alone. and I don't think you do either." you say standing up and grabbing his hand.

"just spend the night, and then in the morning you can leave, just don't leave without saying goodbye." you say pointing a finger at him.

"ok sweetheart, I won't." he says with a smile. "good." you respond with a smile as well.

"now, I have one more gift for you." you say with a smirk on your face.

"Oh really, what is it? it better be pie." he says with a chuckle. you roll your eyes playfully as you pull him towards you bedroom.

"i mean it'll be some kind of pie if you want it to be? but it's also much better than pie." you say seductively.

"mhmmm" he groans, "I like the sound of where this is going.

he runs his hands down your waist as you drag him towards you bed. you shrug off his jacket and he grabs your ass once his jacket is on the floor and goes straight for your jeans buttons.

"please kiss me already dean, I need you." you beg.

his lips are smashed on to yours immediately after your request. guess dean couldn't wait any longer either.

you tug at his shirt and he pulls it off. you take your shirt off as well and that's when dean pushes you on to the bed. you grab at his road shoulders and scratch at his back.

he nips at your neck leaving little sweet kisses after. you were so having hickeys afterwards.

he smashes his lips against yours again and you bite his lip. he groans at the feeling and you release his lip but he can taste the blood on his lip.

he licks his lips and looks at you. "you tryin to devour me huh?" he asks with a smirk.

"Maybe?" you ask with mimicking smirk on your face. he kisses you again and you moan in his mouth. god he lives for your noises.

"do that again." he demands. he kisses down your neck looking for that spot that makes you reel. you moan in his ear again and he physically fights the urge not to shove his fingers in you ight now.

his cock painfully aching in his boxers. you both roll around and moan in each others ears. you tug on his hair and he tugs on yours.

he inhales your scent and he feels like he's on cloud 9.

you were amazing. even more amazing when he first entered inside you. god you were so fucking tight. so delicious. so enticing.

you were pulling him in and he was hitting all the right spots to make you scream his name like a mantra, like a prayer.

you loved the feeling of his fat cock inside you. it made you feel euphoric. no one has ever made you feel this way, dean hit every spot. he made you cry and scream and feel so good.

you needed him. you desired every bit of him. he's the man you daydream about, the one you read tumblr fics about.

you feel your orgasm approaching and dean feels his but he solely his focused on making you feel good. sadly that doesn't work because he's struggling to not cum inside you.

"it's ngh- ok dean. please cum inside me, I want it so bad. please." you beg him and he loses it. he kisses you one last time before he releases inside you, still thrusting and over stimulating himself just to make you feel good.

you eventually cum around his cock as well, feeling so good. you arch into him and tug on his hair really hard he groans. he moans into your ear as he lets out the last spurts of his cum into your stoamch.

he rearranged your guts like no other before and you loved how it made you feel dean winchester makes you feel alive. he makes you feel like yourself.

dean pulls out of you and lays right behind you. you cuddle into him throwing your leg over his to tangle up in his warmth.

he smiles to himself and you kiss him again as you both fall asleep. dean couldn't stop thinking about you. and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

he's your saviour. your hero. your perfect man. your first love.

your his daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love.

It's been a year now and you and dean are thriving. he calls you every day and every night when he's on a hunt.

you even got to meet his brother. you comforted him when his dad died and you even let them stay at your place whenever they were in town.

two years go by and you and dean are on a little break. he said that he didn't feel like he could give you what you wanted and asked if he could take a break from the relationship to give him some time to think.

you didn't know he slept with an old fling and it broke your heart when sam told you.

you went on hunting alone. you met bobby on a hunt and he treated you well. he made sure you were safe.

four years go by and you meet dean again, you never blocked him and he called from time to time. sometimes you'd answer other times, you'd not even give him the time of day.

you looked at dean and realized he hasn't aged a day, if anything he looked more mature, he looked just as good as the last time you saw him.

his voice deeper and still demanding. you hug him and he tells you how much he's missed you. you missed him just as much.

he told you he was sorry and you forgave him. you forgave him a long time ago. he offered to try again and you agreed.

the three of you went hunting together like a family and it was fun. but one night you decided to play hero.

"dean, I once told you you deserved a happy ending, that you weren't a monster." you say quickly while panting.

"yea babe, but why? why are you saying this?" he asked his glossy eyes staring back at you.

"you know I love you right?" you tell him.

"I love you too sweetheart, now tell me what's wrong?!" he shouts.

you hear the footsteps of the vampire and you look at sam and dean.

"babe, it's my turn to be a hero ok? you go on without me. you live your life and you find your happy ending. I love you both so much." you say holding the both of their hands.

"Now run." you say.

you shoot at the vampire and it rushes towards you choking you. you try to fight it off but it stabs you in the stomach and you scream out.

Sam runs to rescue you and dean screams for you. the vampire throws you off to the side and bloods seeping out of your mouth and wound. dean runs to your limp body on the floor and he cradles you in his arms.

sam quickly runs back over the vampires body on the ground with a wooden stake in it's heart and it's head cut off.

you try to speak but dean shushes you.

"no no baby don't speak i'm gonna get you help ok, y-your- fuck your gonna live ok. SON OF A BITCH! baby please don't die on me, I love you please please please." he cries.

"i-i love you too, my sweet hero." your last words before your eyes shut and your no longer moving.

he says your name and sam checks for a pulse. he looks at dean and shakes his head no. dean shakes you and screams your name some more but no response.

he sits there and cries with sam by his side crying as well.

you were dean's daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love and the last one he ever loved. the one he couldn't save.

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling @sammyluvr @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess @bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi @keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a @nuemanfilms + anyone else who wants to join

[lavender-vixen]

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do the Bowers gang and their types? (specifically in women)

Thank you and have a lovely day🫶

Henry Bowers. His cassettes are stacked with AC/DC, Motörhead, and Slayer, setting the tone for his raw, unapologetic vibe. He’s got a thing for lowbrow art—graffiti and bold caricatures speak to him. His architectural taste? Brutalism—strong, unyielding, and a little intimidating, just like him. Henry’s passions include military history and any movie about outlaws and renegades—he’s drawn to stories of rule-breakers who make their own way. So, how do you capture the heart of a guy like Henry? It takes patience and timing. Henry doesn’t give his attention freely. He needs time to warm up. Unlike some of his friends, who might strike up a flirty conversation outside the drugstore, Henry’s more reserved. If you’re lucky enough to catch his eye, you’ll get a polite, confident smile. He’s focused and driven, whether he’s heading to school or work, so don’t expect to distract him when he’s in the zone. But catch him during his downtime—at a diner, a drive-in movie, a concert, or hanging out by the quarry—and you’ll see a different side of him. Give him 10-15 minutes to get to know you, and once he’s interested, that's it. Henry’s idea of romance is taking you to secret spots, like tucked-away restaurants on the edge of town, where it’s just the two of you. He’s dashing, clever, and ambitious—a guy who values hard work and intelligence. Compliment his sharp mind and unrelenting drive, and he’ll be hooked. For the girl who really piques his interest, Henry has a surprisingly sweet side. He’s polite, attentive, and especially patient with someone who’s his complete opposite. Want to impress him? Show a genuine curiosity about his world—his music, his favorite movies, and even his knowledge of weapons (yes, he’ll teach you). Beneath his tough exterior, Henry craves what he never had—a sense of family and belonging. If you come from a loving, supportive home, he’ll be drawn to that and quietly envious, but it’ll only make him want to be closer to you. Show him kindness, curiosity, and a little boldness, and you just might unlock his softer side.

Henry's type: Women who have the patience and strength to break through his tough exterior. He's not the type to hand out his attention lightly, so if you manage to catch his eye, you've earned it. He values intelligence and ambition, but it's not just about brains. Henry appreciates a woman who knows how to stand her ground, someone who's independent and confident enough to challenge him and still hold her own. He's intrigued by strength and authenticity, especially for someone who isn't afraid to push boundaries with him. He wants someone who can offer him the sense of belonging he's been craving, and if you're the kind of girl who can be both bold and nurturing, you'll see a side of him no one else gets to see.

Vic Criss. It's winter in Maine, where the mountains are blanketed in snow, and Vic is tearing up the slopes of Shawnee Peak in Bridgton. He’s quiet at first, a little reserved, but when he asks you out, there’s a magnetic pull in his gaze that’s impossible to ignore. The date? Oh, it’s going to be an adventure—snowboarding down the powdery slopes, even if you’ve never tried it before. Vic has stamina and determination, and he’s all about guiding you down, steadying you with a firm grip that ensures you won’t fall. Chivalry runs deep, and but it's also an excuse to get this close to you. But if you do happen to wipe out, and he’s right there with you, tangled up in the snow? Well, that’s an invitation for a little more intimacy, and Vic knows how to make the most of that. He could spend hours skiing and snowboarding and still be ready to party with you at night. And when it comes to taking things to the next level, Vic’s got a smooth, stealthy way about him. He may seem innocent at first, but beneath that calm exterior is someone who knows exactly how to make you feel alive. He’s not the type to juggle multiple girls—Vic’s a one-girl guy, whether he’s looking for something serious or just wants a no-strings-attached kind of connection. Want to catch him in action? You’ll find him carving up the slopes just outside of Derry, ready to offer his skills, or at a local bar, moving to the rhythm of a live band, dancing so close you can feel the heat between you. And trust me, when Vic dances, he dances close—bump and grind, turning the heat up until it’s just you and him, so he can whisper in your ear, asking you to slip away from the crowd for a breath of fresh air...

Vic's type: He's all about adventure, and he's looking for someone who thrives in the moment. A woman who's not afraid to embrace the cold and brave the slopes with him is his ideal match. Vic will guide you if you're not seasoned, he's patient, and uses the opportunity to get close and share a quiet intimacy between the rush of adrenaline. He appreciates a woman who's both daring and grounded, someone who can keep up with his energy and steady him when needed. If you're into the thrill of the outdoors and the quiet moments in between, Vic will want you by his side, whether it's for an intense day on the mountain or a night out dancing to a live rock band. Once he's into you, it's all about you. His ideal girl is confident enough to let him in, but knows when to pull back and let him take the lead.

Belch Huggins. He's the kind of guy who makes a name for himself in all the right ways, with a reputation that screams danger—but don't let that fool you. Outside of his crew, he’s got a surprisingly sweet side. Known for his killer sense of humor, he’s the life of the party, cracking jokes, telling wild stories, and keeping everyone on their toes with his playful pranks. His charm is magnetic, especially when there’s booze involved. But don't try to catch him during the day—he’s all business, laser-focused on whatever work he’s doing, making him hard to approach. If you want to catch his attention, you’ve got to catch him at night, when he’s ready to let loose. During holidays and school breaks, though, you can forget about his work. That's when he’s the most fun, always mingling and finding a way to connect. And if you want to catch his eye, there’s a certain way to dress: high heels, short skirts, and bold makeup. If you're not rocking that look, Belch might just assume you’re not interested—or worse, already taken. So, always dress to impress—even in winter. If you’re not up for the cold-weather "Huggins uniform," throw on a thermal jacket and mittens, or maybe some edgy fishnets to keep it stylish and warm. You can’t flirt when your teeth are chattering. And sharing a cup of hot chocolate outdoors? That’s a perfect excuse to be near him. Once you're in his circle, the fun doesn’t stop. Instead of the usual haunts, you could be planning your own pre-game parties. Introduce Belch to a drinking game, but keep it short—anything longer and you’ll be crawling home, and once your words start slurring, he’s out. The holiday season’s the perfect time to make things more intimate. Throw a holiday party with his favorite drinks and a little mistletoe for that perfect chance to get closer.

Belch's type: He's drawn to women who are bold, confident, and know how to have fun and let loose. He loves a good time and wants a woman who can match his wild energy, especially when the drinks are flowing. If you can keep up with his antics and aren't afraid to laugh at his crazy jokes, you'll have his attention. He likes women who know how to dress like those sexy, rocker chicks in magazines, something edgy and fun. Belch wants someone who's not afraid to be the life of the party with him, whether it's pulling pranks or engaging in extreme dares. But beyond his playful exterior, he does appreciate the women who can show him a little bit of real connection. If you're the type to hang with his crowd and still stand out with your own quirks, you're the kind of girl who'll have Belch noticing you more and keeping you close.

Patrick Hockstetter. He's a man of extremes, and he wears his passions unapologetically. He’s the kind of guy who can knock back drinks with the best of them. When he's not partying, he's out there conquering the outdoors, shredding on his guitar, or carving up the slopes on skis and snowboards during Maine's winter. He loves snow, especially the kind that comes in a little bag. But don’t mistake his rugged hobbies for a lack of depth. He’s more laid-back than Henry and Belch, but there’s something about him that makes every word feel like a gut punch of honesty. Patrick doesn’t sugarcoat anything. He’ll look you dead in the eye and say, “You are the absolute love of my life,” and he means it—even if you've only known him for a few hours. But, brace yourself, because he’s not done: “By the way, you need to get your split ends cut.” He’ll drop these little truths with no warning, like he’s been holding onto them just for you. He’s brutally real, even when you don’t want him to be. And if you ask him for a ride home after a party? He’ll give it to you—no questions asked. But don’t think he won’t let you know how it is: “Not the smartest move, giving a stranger your address. I could’ve been anyone.” He won’t let it slide, but somehow, it’s hard to be mad when you can see that he’s genuinely looking out for you. New to the gang? Patrick's got you covered. He’ll pay for everything, and if you try to refuse, he’ll flash that wicked grin of his and say, “I got it.” It won’t stop there. For weeks, he'll insist—always the first to foot the bill. Then, just when you think he's done, he'll write his number on your hand before you head out, flashing that look again, daring you to say no to a date in return.

Patrick's type: He's into women who can handle all those different sides of him. He'll be drawn to someone who can keep up with his adventurous side, whether it's partying, exploring abandoned buildings, or indulging in a little recreational drugs (hey, it's the 80s). But it's not just about the craziness. Patrick respects a woman who's real and honest, no filter, so he needs someone who can take it and dish it back. A woman who can show him real curiosity about his world, his music, his philosophy, his darker interests...that will intrigue him. But beneath his tough, raw exterior is someone who's craving deeper connection but doesn't really know how to offer or accept it. If you're a little forward, a little sweet, and can match his intensity shot for shot, Patrick will see you as someone worth sticking around for. If he deems you interesting enough, he might steal you away from the group for long, late-night walks, talking about anything from existentialism to playing dumb little games like 'never have I ever.' He also likes a girl who isn't clingy. If you don't hear from him for a few days, don't bombard him with calls. Chances are he just needs to cool off and recharge. He'll be back again with a renewed longing to spend time with you.

[princeelectra]

Me and @bloodychurch were talking about how the electric gang™ (me and the components) are then alien equivalent to the other trains, and in the original AC/DC, we can hear a conversation that appears to be in their own language (the computer commands)

Bip Bip bup bup bop blip blip blup