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keeksandgigz · 8 months

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the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content.

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room.

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you.

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic.

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know.

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself.

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone.

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice.

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core.

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa.

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims.

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly.

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go.

“The mirror” you mumble.

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered.

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it.

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words.

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time.

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth.

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?”

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face.

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head.

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it.

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose.

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news.

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe.

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs.

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest.

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-”

“Your coven? There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod.

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him.

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place.

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks.

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset.

And now he’s upset because of you.

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back.

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him.

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back.

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room.

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s.

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break.

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace.

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable.

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes.

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional.

The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep.

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me.

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit.

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace.

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town.

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal.

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you?

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes.

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not.

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind.

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air.

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie.

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless.

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time.

If you don’t die first.

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left.

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic.

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile.

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed.

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you.

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break, the life force of their power fades.

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook.

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door.

So he knocks. Again. And Again.

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it.

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you.

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house”

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever.

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand.

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest.

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists.

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet.

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this?

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays. I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered.

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him.

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered.

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left.

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch.

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived.

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it.

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again.

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face.

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

“So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?”

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again.

a word about my taglist- if you ask to be put on it, and went through the trouble of filling out the form, all i ask in return is that you interact with my stuff in a meaningful way. plain likes really don't get you anywhere on here, and i am asking you in the nicest possible way. tysm <3 taglist form here

taglist: @onegirlmanytales, @sunnythevampireslayer, @cryingglightningg, @yunirgo, @reidsbtch, @neville-is-my-husband, @minorlystuck13, @keikoraven, @capricornrisingsstuff, @lavendermunson, @mandyjo8719, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @hellfirenacht, @seexyyprincess, @goosterroose, @euphoric-rush, @everheart12, @witchwolflea @corrodedcoffincumslut, @aaasbrutus, @stqrgirl3 @starrthemushroom, @lemme-slytherin-that-dick, @fictionalsimping, @tpwkkami11, @1paire2vans @xquinn-bartonx, @bimbobaggins69, @aphrogeneias, @jamdoughnutmagician, @reysorigins, @strangereads, @strangerstilinski, @upsidedownbunnyy, @eddiesxangel, @hideoutside, @ali-r3n,

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 9 months

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germany committed a genocide against roma! and nobody is talking about it! and nowadays women from bulgaria and romania are systematically sexually exploited by german men in german brothels! and nobody is talking about it!

when a young woman from romania was almost killed by her pimp, her friends husband, beaten to death, after they tricked her into prostitution and he abused and forced her, no media outlet in germany really picked up the story! what the fuck!

at least 60% of women in german prostitution are immigrants, many dont even know german. tell me how are they consenting if they dont even speak the language? many get trafficked or their families become dependant on the prostitution money, many have kids. they often dont have an apartment because they travel between german cities (or more, are travelled, because sex buyers are insatiable for „fresh meat“).

and then german media says oh but trafficking is not prostitution! curious, seems to be like the men profiting are the same: pimps, brothel owners, sex buyers.

the dehumanisation and discrimination of roma people in germany is shameful, and the way this is fueling the sex industry is heinous.

#mine #germany #anti prostitution

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stars-and-the-min · 5 months

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☆ the wrong way to hard launch (12) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n from miami, USA to sofia, bulgaria

bro miami gp was WILD i can't believe i slept thru it 😭

masterlist | last part | part 12 | next part

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h landoscar sitting so far apart from each other at the same miami heat game is incredibly funny to me ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h do they even talk 😭 do you think they knew the other was going?

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 36m oscar sighting today vs lina sighting today

↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h its like 25 degrees in miami and 10 degrees in sofia

INSTAGRAM

aidan_ebass Sofia, Bulgaria

liked by cameliazzz and 231,029 others

aidan_ebass a love letter to sofia tagged: cameliazzz and selinabui

lottie2418 EXCUSE ME SIR THAT LAST PHOTO???

2cami4lina aid posts once in a blue moon and it's always wild like who even took that photo

emptybottlos why are they whoring out aidan, gramps blink twice if ur being held at gunpoint ↳ aidan_ebass @emptybottlos 😐😑😐😑😐

TWITTER

EB Updates @emptybottles_news · 4h 🗨️| hey guys, recently a lot of my posts have been flooded with a bunch of lina hate. this is insanely unwarranted, if you don't like empty bottles or ANY of the members, please do not interact with my account. it's really disheartening to see so many people insult this incredibly hard-working woman that such a huge fanbase, including myself, adore and claiming to speak on behalf of her bandmates, friends and even boyfriend is absolutely vile. ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 4h admin i fear it's time to spam block bc i'm getting sick of it as well ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 3h alright, start throwing hands. any tongue that rises against selina bui shall fall, we ride at dawn

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 27m i am begging BEGGING that the european leg isn't completely FUCKED by the hate train like PLS LINA return to giving no shits and flirt all you want ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 12m well like... maybe let's not overdo the flirting

INSTAGRAM

mclaren Hard Rock Stadium

liked by landonorris and 54,205 others

mclaren A little look into OP81's Miami media day shenanigans 👀 tagged: oscarpiastri

eb_jonno your joking we just got rid of the nfl guy ↳ oscarpiastri @eb_jonno My skills would never get me to the NFL so I think you're safe

pastry81 lina pls save this man and his wardrobe, go girl give us nothing

TWITTER

camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h literally all of ebtwt waiting with bated breath over sofia n1 😭 ↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h i'm a camilina truther but if i do not see lukas remove selina's gloves on a grainy livestream I WILL CRY

kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h THEY DID IT OH MY GOD THEY DID THE GLOVE MOVE I'M INCONSOLABLE ↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h @luna_apocolypse SLEEP WELL TWINSIE THOSE BITCHES ARE BACK TO BEING DERANGED ON STAGE

lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 1h we must look so unhinged to locals, we look like a bunch of victorian ladies screaming over a guy removing a pair of gloves i can't- ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 1h YES IT'S MASSIVE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN GLADER TO SEE THE RETURN OF THIS MOVE BUT HOLY SHIT WE'RE DYING OVER TWO BESTIES FAKE FLIRT

lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 53m HE KISSED HER HAND OH WE'RE SO BACK LUKAS ZHANG YOU LITTLE FLIRT EFNSDJCNSDI

opal @pxastrixxx · 21m i've said it before and i'll say it again; you do not treat friends like that ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 16m do you genuinely not know what a performance is?

EB Updates @emptybottles_news · 3m Empty Bottles played Sofia (originally sung by @ clairo) as their audience selection song during the encore! ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 2m oh they understood the assignment this is EXACTLY the shit they should be getting lina to sing

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

INSTAGRAM

emptybottles_official Arena Sofia

liked by chrisyamada and 328,375 others

emptybottles_official First stop of the European leg done and dusted! Sofia, you guys were a dream, we hope you had fun with us these past two nights ❤️

cami.png when the weather's so cold lina debuts a new minidress with sleeves 😭

eb_jonno why are you doing me dirty, i thought we were friends ↳ emptybottles_official @eb_jonno You signed off on this photo ↳ eb_jonno @emptybottles_official can i... change my mind?

mrslukaszhang they all look so good it's criminal

sofia.michaels good day to be named sofia 🥰

oscarpiastri Hard Rock Stadium

liked by quadlock and 209,486 others

oscarpiastri P6² in Miami

pi4str1 oscar, sweetie, i don't think that's how math works

opeightyone That gorgeous gorgeous helmet 😍

lukaszhang best of luck for the race tomorrow mate ↳ oscarpiastri @lukaszhang Thanks man

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h WTF DID OSCAR HAVE THIS MORNING HOLY SHIT, THAT WAS SPECTACULAR

McLaren @ McLarenF1 · 2h OSCAR. JACK. PIASTRI!!!

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 1h carlos sainz when i get my hands on you...

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 17m OH MY GOD OH MY GOD LANDO WIN???? LANDO NORRIS WINS???? ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 8m rip 'lando nowins', u were one of the funniest nicknames of the sport

clovie @ luvyouvie · 20m oscar p13, u were robbed my son, that was straight-up highway robbery

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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badgerseye · 8 months

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Apartment blocs, Sofia BG

#film photography #my work #photography #film is not dead #analog photography #photo #35mm #color #kodak ultramax 400 #apartment buildings #brutalism #sofia #bulgaria

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blueiscoool · 18 days

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Archaeologists Find Gold Coins From The Time of Justinian the Great in Bulgaria

Archaeologists have discovered five gold coins dating from the reign of Justinian the Great (483-565) in Debnevo, the largest village in the Troyan Municipality in northern Bulgaria.

Justinian was a powerful emperor, who reconquered previously owned Roman land. During his time of reign, he helped the Byzantine Empire reach its peak in culture and prosperity. From 527 until 565, Justinian I ruled as the Byzantine Empire’s emperor. Justinian is best remembered for his work as a legislator and codified.

The discovery was announced on 27 August by Assoc. Dr. Stiliyan Ivanov from the National Historical Institute with a museum at the Bulgarian Academy of Sciences, who led the archaeological expedition exploring the fortress “Kaleto” above the village.

Archaeologists exploring the Kaleto Fortress above the village found the coins scattered on the floor of a burned-out dwelling dating to the time of the reign of the Bulgarian kings Simeon and Peter.

“During this year, the most interesting archaeological situation is an early medieval dwelling that was burned down. In other cases similar dwellings are found without remains of the internal structure, while here we have the rare opportunity to see the wooden lining of the dwelling, which, although charred, is clearly discernible. It must be related somewhere to the 10th century, to the time of the rule of the Bulgarian kings Simeon and Peter”, the associate professor said.

The owners left all the inventory in the dwelling – two iron sickles, iron tools, a belt buckle, three bronze rings, various-sized ceramic vessels, from which it can be judged that they were involved in agriculture, he added.

“The most interesting find from the apartment is the discovery of five gold coins scattered on the floor. Two of them were badly damaged by fire. What is interesting about the coins is that they are much older than the early medieval dwelling where they were found. They date from the 6th century, from the time of Emperor Justinian I. They were most likely discovered by those who built the dwelling and who subsequently preserved them”, said Ivanov.

Although not in circulation, these coins were valuable enough because they were made of gold – a material that was quite valuable even in the Middle Ages”, Dr. Ivanov said.

According to Ivanov, part of the fortress walls are well preserved, while others have suffered because material from them was used to construct a nearby settlement. He said that traces are found of a large Thracian settlement from the 4th-3rd centuries BC, three phases of habitation from Late Antiquity (4th-6th centuries), the First Bulgarian Kingdom, a necropolis from the Second Bulgarian Kingdom and the Ottoman period.

By Oguz Kayra.

#Archaeologists Find Gold Coins From The Time of Justinian the Great in Bulgaria #Debnevo #Byzantine Empire #gold #gold coins #collectable coins #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations

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collapsedsquid · 6 months

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One possible outcome of the next presidential election is that a Democratic candidate wins a dispute-proof victory and is straightforwardly inaugurated. Another – perfectly likely – is that Trump runs again and is unambiguously re-elected in line with the law, even if most Americans don’t vote for him. But what if he, or a candidate like him, were to cheat, and he and his party threaded the needle to a victory endorsed by the key national institutions? Instead of today’s situation, in which there is a Democratic president and – to use Walter’s terminology – a downgraded superfaction of Trump supporters convinced by the lie that he was defrauded and should have won, you would have a Trump base accepting their champion’s fraudulent victory, and a liberal superfaction aware that the Republican head of state had stolen the presidency, that politicians, bureaucrats and lawyers had seized the apparatus of the American state, and that democracy had been killed. One of the strange things about the reaction to the invasion of the Capitol was how few of those dismayed by it speculated that they might one day long for just such an assault to succeed. Might a different mob storm into Congress to save democracy, rather than attack it? If an autocrat who has stolen an election is about to have his trashing of American democracy hallowed by Congress, all other recourse having failed, shouldn’t Democrats – or democrats, at least – take direct action? Liberal opinion in North America and Western Europe has tended to be gung-ho about pro-democracy protesters storming ruling institutions in other countries, notably Ukraine in 2014. But it’s one thing to imagine, as Walter encourages her readers to do, the gradual spread of white supremacist, anti-government terrorism across America against a democratic framework, until one day the progressive left, and the people of colour she suggests are likely to be targets of violence, arm and organise for self-protection. It’s another to wake up one morning and find that without any bloodshed or violence, without any seeming change in the smooth running of traffic signals and ATMs and supermarkets, without, even, an immediate wave of arrests or a clampdown on free speech, your country is run by somebody who took power illegally. Something must be done! But what, apart from venting on social media? And by whom? Me? In Ukraine, students and the liberal middle class found fighting allies among football ultras, small farmers and extreme nationalists. Such an alliance would be hard to pull together in the Euro-American world. Describing liberal protests against government corruption and malfeasance in Bulgaria in 2013, Ivan Krastev spoke of ‘the frustration of the empowered’ and an urban middle class that ‘risks remaining politically isolated, incapable of reaching out to other social groups’.

#posted this before #maybe more than once

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pascaloverx · 3 months

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Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and adult content. Dear readers, I'm here to let you know that if you enjoy this fic, please engage with it. Comments and likes are welcome. I appreciate everyone who follows this fanfic. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.

chapter six chapter eight

CHAPTER SEVEN

The following month felt almost like a dream. You and Dean officially together, without having to pretend to casually bump into each other as good neighbors. Sam seems to be adjusting to your relationship. But he seems to enjoy the time he spends alone when Dean is with you at your sister's apartment. The good news is that you'll be moving soon. Your new book is going to be released, and with the money you've already earned, you'll be able to buy your own apartment.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye to the comfort of being able to see you without much effort. Maybe you should come live with me. I can kick Sam out with just one command from you," Dean says while still cuddling with you. You spent the night together yesterday and decided to sleep snuggled up.

"I don't want to start our relationship by making your brother angry with me. Not to mention that I'll still be close by. My sister lives here," you say, turning slightly and giving Winchester a kiss on the cheek. You don't even finish saying this when you hear a noise at the door. It can only mean one thing: your sister is back.

"Is anyone home?" your sister yells, and you immediately get out of bed, running to find your missing clothes and Dean's. It's not that you won't admit you're with him, you just don't want to admit it like this.

"I'm in the bedroom, just give me a moment to greet you," you shout back, finishing getting dressed. As you're about to leave the room and reach for Dean's hand, he pulls back. You look at him, puzzled.

"I'd better hide here and leave later. Trust me, you don't want to tell your sister about us like this," Dean says, stepping away, which you find suspicious. It's one thing that they don't get along, but acting as if he's ashamed to be seen as your boyfriend makes you uncomfortable.

"I thought us dating meant we were going to make it official to everyone. Including my sister. Unless there's something different about telling my sister that we're together," you say a little irritated. Your sister calls your name and you feel you should go. Dean seems like he has something to say to you but you just close the door and go to where your sister is.

"My little sister! I've missed you so much. I'm dying to hear all the news, what happened while I was working away. I want to know everything," your sister says, hugging you tightly after setting down her bags.

"I should have come back earlier. You didn't even tell me you were coming. Such an ungrateful sister," you say as you hug your sister.

"My boss allowed me to come home for a few days, but I have to go back soon. There's an investigative story in Bulgaria that they'll need me for. And how's it been staying here without me? Dealing with Winchester up front been keeping you up at night?" She speaks and you widen your eyes in surprise at the question. Maybe she suspects something, but you don't want to give anything away.

"Actually, he's been much calmer. Almost like a changed man. Sam's even visiting him. Maybe later we can all meet up," you say, deflecting the conversation while hinting at Dean possibly changing. However, by pretending he's not in your room and omitting that you're dating, you're starting to feel like Dean's little dirty secret—which might suggest he hasn't changed after all.

"My sweet sister, always believing in the best of people. From my own experience, believe me, he's unlikely to change. Although when he was dating Castiel, it seemed like he had changed. I think maybe Castiel was the love of his life," your sister says, and you feel the weight of her words almost immediately. Firstly, what does she mean by "from my own experience"? And the fact that she thinks Castiel might have been Dean's great love confirms your worst fear—that you might be Dean's second choice because he can no longer have Castiel.

"By 'from my own experience,' do you mean because you've witnessed several of Dean's relationships?" you ask, trying not to show how a wrong answer could make this one of the weirdest mornings of your life.

"I never mentioned it to you? Dean and I had a brief relationship. That's why I always insisted you stay away from him. Actually, it was a bit before you came to live with me and he got involved with Castiel. It was fun, but he would never have taken me seriously. I always thought it made sense that he dumped me because he'd found the love of his life. But maybe it was never meant to be me and him. Or him and Castiel. Who knows, right? So, want to eat out? I'm starving." Your sister says this, and you look at her, almost crying. But you have to pretend you're not feeling anything. How could she never have told you? And him? What kind of messed-up morning is this?

"I'll grab my bag and a coat. Meet you downstairs?" you say, trying to hold back the tears.

"Alright. I'll wait for you downstairs. I'll be the girl almost dying of hunger," your sister says, giving you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

"You can come out now," you say loudly so Dean can hear. Fortunately, your sister is a good reporter, but when she's hungry, she can't think straight. Otherwise, she would have noticed that my coat and bag are in the living room.

"I can explain," he says, appearing quickly in front of you. Obviously, he had been listening to your conversation.

"Just like you could have explained before I found out from my sister. Is that why you didn't want her to know about us? Because you slept with my sister before meeting the supposed love of your life?" Your voice rises, a mix of anger and sadness. A blend of disillusionment with the feeling that you shouldn't be reacting this way.

"It's not fair for you to be mad about the comment on Castiel being the love of my life. I didn't make it. But I understand it's fair for you to be angry that I didn't tell you. At first, I thought it was irrelevant, and then we were already into each other; how could I tell you that I'd been with your sister?" Dean says, and you have no reaction. It's like you can't process what he's saying.

"Don't worry, Dean. I don't blame you for any of this. The fault is mine, the illusion is mine. Now, please go." You speak in a low voice. Dean seems to understand that you really don't want to discuss this now.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Dean asks, approaching you. Looking at him seems to make you even sadder.

"I'm asking for some time; please respect that if you can. If not, you can consider it a breakup. Whatever makes you feel better," you say, looking at him with teary eyes. Dean looks sad, maybe even disappointed.

"I may be an idiot, but I'm not giving up on you," he says, looking into your eyes. Then he leaves, leaving a kind of emptiness in you. But now isn't the time to dwell on it, as your sister will soon become suspicious. You compose yourself, grab your bag and coat, and leave.

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