#if anyone reading this is familiar with music… can you dm me with some tips... and like dumb them down for me please. i was born yesterday!

[eggwishing]

sans looking at ice or something

[adviceformefromme]

Hey, I looove your blog, it’s really helped me take on 2023 with a lot more confidence , every post is full of gems so thank you for that! 💕💕💕 I need some help please - How do you move past feelings of shame around letting people (especially boys) treat you badly? Sometimes my mind replays moments from my past where I let a guy yell at me or put me down, and I feel so ashamed and embarrassed that I bawl my eyes out. It’s like I can’t believe that I would let someone make me feel so low and am disgusted at myself for allowing it. The positive side is that I know the reasons why I allowed it (usually fear of abandonment and desperate desire to be liked) and I’ve become a lot more firm with my boundaries since then. But sometimes when these moments replay in my head, I get so paralyzed with sadness and am mortified at the thought that this person is walking around knowing that they were able to affect me like that. It’s gotten so bad that sometimes hours pass and I’m stuck in this trance of self loathing and just disgust at myself. Any tips on how to snap myself out of it? Xoxo

'Change the I 'should have known better' to 'I now know better' and let your pain be the lesson.

Hey Sweetie, thank you so much for your kind words and I am so sorry to hear what you are going through. Believe me I have LIVED through this. I was raised and conditioned to be respectful, kind and loving towards my abuser so when I started navigating relationships I would be treated so badly but accept the behaviour and it chipped away at my confidence and self esteem so much. It hurts to think of how badly I was treated but I know with that mistreatment came strength, and power and the decision to NEVER allow myself to be mistreated ever again.

So what do you do? Do you keep beating yourself up? Putting yourself down keeping your energy in the gutter to attract more situations just like the last or do you WISE UP. Do you say no-fucking-more to this treatment from men and raise the bar. Not only for yourself but for the little girl inside you?

Do you start telling yourself that you forgive you, and you promise to protect yourself from being in the situation again or continue to chip away at your own self confidence just like these men have done?

I learnt after all the pain that I HAD to become my own best friend, my inner voice (that voice that can put you down) can actually support you, and be on your side. That I had to start making better choices not only for me, but for the little girl inside me that already lived through so much pain. As an adult are you really going to let this continue? I started listening to music that empowered me. Podcasts that empowered me. Youtubers that empowered me. I got so familiar of where I was being tripped up by these men that I got one step ahead. I LEARNT boundaries, if I was getting taken advantage of for being drunk on dates, I would only accept coffee or dinner dates. If noticed any signs of aggression or emotional instability in men I would remove myself as these are not the men for me. The word no, will become your best friend with these men. And the more you have boundaries, the more respect men will have for you.

To heal and overcome, you have to start loving yourself so much, and think of yourself as the adult caring for the little girl inside you. Would you allow anyone or anything to hurt the little version of you inside? Make today be your fresh start. Where you say no to the broken record in your mind putting you down, you say no to reliving the past. I also recommend going to the book store and finding a book that resonates with you on your healing journey. I remember reading Untethered Soul by Michael A Singer that really changed my whole thinking, but there will be a book for you. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Sending you love and light, DMs are always open if you need anything extra. xoxoxox

[waspgrave]

formally requesting info about mara 😌

THANK YOU!!! She is my best girl these days but i’ve been so shy to talk about her despite her having a wholeass ref page and pinterest board now...but now that you’ve enabled me:

here is a sheet of what she looks like <3 now to shout and make a really long post under a readmore

o She’s a half-elf drow, around 23-years-old PROBABLY. She wouldn’t bet money on her age these days.

o College of Spirits bard. She’s self-taught and prefers playing string music. She also has a really pretty voice, but is shy when it comes to singing in front of anyone. Mara learned a lot of her music through spirits of the deceased that wished to be remembered. And all of her stories on the spirit table come from the experiences of the departed she’s communicated with. 

o Has NO CONCEPT of money value. She earns most of hers through tips while playing at a tavern and at least 90% of it goes missing between sessions or during the game. 

Example – she lost 500+ of the 1200 gold that our rogue warforged gave her to buy supplies for the group. Which she did. We have healing supplies and the paladin is now OP thanks to plate armor. But who knows where the rest went...... Thankfully he also has no concept of money so no hard feelings <3

o Never had long-term friends until the last two months! It’s only ever been her, Lavender, and her grandma and usually they travelled a lot that she never got to stay anywhere long enough to befriend people. Also was told to avoid major cities and whatnot for a long time.

o Lavender is an 8-foot-tall shadowy ghost?? Figure that follows her around. It can only be seen by the dead or dying, but appears as a featureless humanoid. It rarely manifests physically but when it does it’s as a little critter (bird or mouse) and usually only when something Dangerous occurs or nearly took place. Not a familiar! Yet...

Mara has no idea what it is and never thought to ask about it, but it’s been with her for as long as she can remember and she loves it. She views it as another part of herself and feels lonely anytime they’re separated.

It hums a soothing tune when it’s curious about something. It can peer into the memories of the dead, usually so Mara can bring them comfort or help them move on. It recently did this to a guy that’s alive and to the construct in the party – so that’s weird.

CAN be separated from Mara but something very strange might occur.

o She experiences chronic nightmares and pain.

o If she’s not careful then using her ability to read into memories of the dead can slap her with Exhaustion Level 1 and injure her if she goes too far and winds up ‘experiencing’ the moment.

o “Grandma” is a hag named Ms. Spice. This is her! :) (drawn by my wife and the DM - venusmage)

o  Was raised by her grandma for as long as she can remember. She’s almost positive it’s been at least a decade but couldn’t tell you her first memory or anything past a certain point. Things get really muddy for her if she pushes it and it’s been very stressful to have this pointed out to her.

Prior fact contribution – she has necromancy runes on her body that are usually hidden (she never thought of why she defaults to wearing gloves and long sleeves but suddenly it makes sense!). This implies she died at some point. And she took the knowledge pretty well! But is probably going to have a meltdown eventually!

Does know that she had parents! She has her dad’s focus and her mother’s earring. She’s toying with the idea of looking for them, but has no idea where to start.

o  Mara speaks what’s on her mind which can be helpful! But it gets worse when she’s nervous. And unfortunately, she is extremely blunt and can be very insulting.

Has been informed recently that she can be a bit rough around the edges when it comes to how blunt she is.

She’s working on this. She recently spent 20+ gold at a pawn shop buying people gifts as she strives to become besties with the party.

o She is extremely naïve to a LOT of things. She’s also very sensitive and full of emotions and love. She’s awkward and bad at showing these things and expressing herself. She tends to hide when she’s hurt or sad, and prefers to disregard concern towards herself in favor of focusing on other people. That being said – she can be spiteful, sarcastic, and immature. She hates being embarrassed or feeling as though she’s not being heard and ganged up on. She will slap back way too hard 

example: the paladin and sorcerer in our party ganged up on her about being dumb and making bad choices when she suggested talking to the gang of drow that are enemies with the dragon poachers. And bc she didn’t feel like she was getting defended or helped by anyone she snapped informed them - in front of hot cleric dad and other party members - that they signed themselves off to servitude towards her grandma after making requests of her with no payment....queen

o she is SO PROTECTIVE of people. Caspian (aztechnology’s chronurgy wizard) and Gracious (tiniestmagneto’s warforged rogue) are two people she instantly bonded to and will now bite people over. Same with Drac, the guy who she accidentally triggered a PTSD attack in after accidentally reading his death??? when they got into an argument

o Loves stealing for funsies. She’s a little magpie and will steal even random shit that isn’t valuable. She will sometimes give these items to people. She totally doesn’t mind if they sell it, no way, it’s fine.

o Almost everything she does involves a trade and deal.

o  She gives ribbons to people she cares and worries about <3 She usually has an assortment of them wrapped around a spool in her bag and embroiders most of them as a little personal touch. She also leaves ribbons on things that feel important, especially if tragedy is associated with them. It’s a way of saying that she’ll remember them and possibly help when she can

o   Very desensitized to things that would scare other people. This is because she lived with a hag for over a decade.

Recently informed our wizard, Caspian, that her grandma eats people. The most notable one was when she ate a person (not in front of her!) that was threatening her and Mara. This is normal behavior to Mara. Mara got to feed his shoes to one of her grandma’s pet mimics – DeMyse.

Thinks things like beholderkin and yeth hounds are cute. She managed to pacify a Gazer that they found in a chimney and is honestly very upset that the Blackstaff took it away to be studied.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

A Familiar Face (Part 7)

How about a chapter instead of a Sunday snippet? I love this story, and an update is far overdue!  As a short refresher since I took so long (apologies!), your apartment has been broken into and ransacked. Ryan is with you and helps you sift through the wreckage as much as he is able. But you have a confession to make: you know who is the culprit, and you can’t hide the truth anymore.  (Parts 1-6 can be found on my masterlist!

Rating: PG for a little steaminess

Word count: 3390 (Because Ryan gets to me and I lose any and all self-control.)

Tag list: @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @maydayfigment​ @vetseras​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @malionnes​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @crushed-pink-petals-writes​ @delos-destinations​ @luminex3​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​ @tenhargreeves​ @witchygagirl​ @fific7​ @pheedraws​

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Ryan’s eyes crinkled up at the edges when he smiled. It was something you hadn’t discovered early on, like the pensive look that darkened his eyes sometimes or the way their color seemed to dance when he talked about music and places he’d been, things he’d seen. He was always wearing that tattered khaki hat, and the bill cast a shadow over his eyes, shrouding little things from view.

But that night, between guitar picking with calloused fingertips and singing that bursted from his soul, you and Ryan talked; you joked and laughed and the back-and-forth you both indulged in lasted longer than any of your previous conversations had. With Ryan’s overgrown hair brushed back, the only thing obstructing his eyes at times was a chunk of long bangs falling over his forehead. It wasn’t enough, however, to hide those eye crinkles when he laughed, framed by long, dark eyelashes. It was a small feature of his that was only showcased in certain instances, and one that most people wouldn’t notice. But, every time it happened, you felt your heart flip, the way it had just before the cozy house set back deep in the woods had been filled with music.

Your mind kept replaying the melody of the original song he’d played for you. It had stirred something deep inside of you, ignited a place within yourself that you’d never known existed. 

“When did you write Southbound?” Your questions were becoming more personal, and the startling part, the part that made you the happiest, was that Ryan didn’t seem to mind answering them, nor did he seem hesitant to ask questions of his own. “What sparked that melody, those words?”

Ryan set his guitar down gently, leaning the front of the old acoustic against the wall, neck and peg board supporting the instrument. He regarded your face, the glint of genuine curiosity shining in your eyes. He was attentive to the way you were sitting, leaning forward and eager to hear more of his story. 

He’d met many people over the time he’d spent on the roads, living life the way he saw fit. Some of them had been curious about his lifestyle, how long he’d been playing, that sort of thing. He’d met people who had pried for details, almost as if a disguised predator hunting for prey. But you… you were the first person he’d encountered that was interested in more than why he didn’t use plastic guitar picks, but chose thumb and finger picks instead. Ryan wasn’t used to people being interested in him as a person. He was conditioned to keeping to himself, allowing lips curled in disgust at his clothes, rust-stained or dirtied in places from hopping trains,  to roll off his back. He smiled, one of those crooked, small quirks of his lips that he tended to lean toward when he was feeling shy. But it didn’t keep him from answering, and truthfully.

“Just keepin’ myself occupied on trains.  Some’a those rides are long and I use the time to practice, to play.” He flexed his fingers, and you looked down to see the ink decorating his knuckles. That was another story you’d love to hear, what those tattoos meant to him, what they stood for. “I found a melody I liked, kept playin’ around with it, the tuning, the speed, the pickin’. It was a while before the words came. My old notebook is more scratched through words than anythin’ else.”

He looked at you, perched on the edge of the old vintage couch, some of the fabric beginning to wear. He caught your eyes and held your gaze for a lingering moment, andl his focus was drawn downward to your lips. He forced himself to not stare, to continue with his story. 

“But the words came, and I liked ‘em alright. They fit when I paired the lyrics with the music. For a long time, I had two verses, the strumming in the middle, and that was it. Wasn’t until the thick of the winter when I was inspired to finish.”

Ryan stopped there. You wanted to ask him what had inspired him to turn the song in the specific direction it had gone. You wanted to ask him how autobiographical the song was, the parts about leaving home— where home had been, if he’d ever tried to find a permanent place he could be content in. He’d sung a line or so nodding to drinking, and you couldn’t help but feel a strong pull at your heartstrings, and the solemn weight that settled in your chest. Ryan hadn’t had an easy life. 

Instead of responding with words, you surveyed Ryan’s face. He was still just across from you, the fire he’d built still crackling in the fireplace. You felt a chill and lifted your sock-clad feet to the bottom cushion of the sofa you’d been occupying for the evening, hugging your knees to your chest. 

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, You became lost in thought, with the knowledge that tomorrow would be another very long day. You were making a mental list of things to take care of when Ryan’s voice brought you back to the present. It was such a welcome distraction.  

“Tell me about the diner.” He spoke softly, not much louder than the crackling of the blazing fire he’d built. Standing from where you’d been lounging, you moved to the heart again to toast before the fire. It was difficult to stay still, difficult to focus on anything other than the questions making endless rounds through your head, overwhelming your mind. You could focus on Ryan, though. The diner. You smiled genuinely. My comfort. My home.  It felt like, somehow, Ryan knew how much the diner meant to you… and he did. It was impossible to miss when you were there, working non-stop but never without a smile, never too busy to indulge a patron in warm conversation. It was your safe haven.

“My grandparents opened up the place decades ago,” you started. You paused for a moment and relished the warmth radiating over your back. “They snatched it up with a down payment and a lump sum  of pre-payment of the lease before the building had an interior, when it was just a shell of brick. They knew it would be the perfect location for the business they’d dreamt of opening.” You caught Ryan’s eyes, and there was a smile there, matching the one on his lips as well as your own. “It’s like the American Dream,” you laughed, and continued. “My parents took over…” 

And just as quickly as your grin had come, it vanished with a darkening of your eyes. The shock and bewilderment you’d felt in discovering the state of your apartment was transitioning into outright anger. You could kill your brother. And the thought of him intruding your mind-- just like the way he’d intruded your apartment, your life once again-- reminded you that Ryan still had no idea about what you knew. What had actually happened. 

“And that brings us here,” you finally continued. “I had money saved up, a nice amount. Cash, mostly from tips, so I could buy that building outright when it’s time, take over when my parents grew tired.” You swallowed hard, shoving down the lump in your throat that had been returning unwelcome throughout the evening and night. A slight look of contempt twisted your features, and your eyes began to prickle. You knew what was coming; it was inevitable. “For years, I’ve measured my life in coffee spoons, packs of sweetener and powdered creamer. Working toward that goal is my whole life, and I wouldn’t trade the double shifts or overtime for the world, but right now? I have nothing to show for it.” Hot tears stung your face, and you wiped them away angrily as you gathered the courage to look at Ryan. His gaze was centered on you already, stunningly intense. And you were hit with a realization then:  that if anyone could understand what it was like to have nothing—  next to no money, no home, a sparse amount of belongings— it was Ryan. 

He had no permanent home. You were fairly positive he’d had his fair share of days with little to no money, and everything he owned fit in his pack, with the exception of his guitar. The peace you felt from your epiphany thawed your anger. Your tears were tapering. Sniffing quietly, you moved to the side as Ryan came to tend to the fire. A feeling of understanding hung in the air between the two of you as Ryan added some more kindling to the flames. Your eyes alternated between his movements and the dance of dark shadow with orange firelight moving over his features. You were mesmerized. 

“I know who did it.” Your voice was barely more than a whisper and you were hyper-aware of your heart beating wildly beneath the safety of your rib cage. Ryan brushed his hands together and stood upright, his eyes regarding as he did so. He didn’t seem to be angry at all, but his curiosity was apparent. He was quiet for a moment, but finally answered with a slight nod, the silence remaining. You opened your mouth to apologize again, your self-loathing over lying by omission rising by the minute, but Ryan beat you to the punch.

“ ‘S’not much of my business, I reckon, but you…” He looked at you with a seriousness you’d never expect from him, and your eyes widened with anticipation and dread. “Are you safe, Y/N?” Ryan’s warm, dark eyes were round with concern, and not a touch of anger was present. All you saw was worry and care.

You nodded in response and cast your eyes downward. “It is your business,” you assured him. It’s your business. You were there and you… you helped me bear the brunt of it all. “And I’m sorry, Ryan. Feeling shame isn’t an excuse to lie. Nothing is.” For the first time, you were nervous in front of him, not because of how he made you feel, but because you’d deceived him. If he’d had any trust in you-- which you thought he might-- you’d taken advantage of that.  “I don’t want you to get involved in my mess.” Looking up at him, you locked your eyes with his. He had no further reason to trust you, not in your opinion, but you hoped he’d be able to see the honesty that you were finally giving him, and that he deserved. “You’ve been a light in my life since you’ve been around, and I don’t want to dim that, not while you’re still here casting that glow.” Your cheeks burned at the realization of how corny your words sounded, but corny or not, they were absolute truth.

Closing the short distance between you, Ryan gently took one of your hands in his, tangling his long fingers with yours. He just looked at you for a few seconds, and then, he kissed you with care. His lips were soft against yours, his kiss light, lingering, laced with an air of urgency. One hand cupped your cheek and the other wrapped around your hand just a bit tighter, your fingers lacing with his. He kissed you again, this time with an added tenacity, yet somehow still chaste. When he pulled back to look at you, both for a reaction and to marvel at your beauty, you noticed his chestnut eyes had darkened a shade or two. Your hands were still locked together and you couldn’t seem to draw in a full, steady breath. You got lost in the warmth of his eyes for a moment before your gaze fell to his lips, already craving another taste. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t ‘ve—“ You shook your head once and leaned in again, interrupting his very unnecessary apology. The way Ryan kissed was something you’d never experienced before. It was all the evidence you needed to achor the idea that Ryan didn’t need words. His soul was naked when he strummed the steel strings of his guitar, his emotions were on full display in his eyes, and his heart was unmistakably felt in his kiss. It was extraordinary and spellbinding. It was absolute and genuine and something that you wanted to take hold of, grasp tightly, and keep with you. But you knew, instead, eventually, you’ d have to let go. And much sooner, you suspected, than you’d like.

It had been foolish to allow yourself to grow attached to a stranger you may never see again, but you allowed yourself the effort to attempt rationalizing what was serendipitous. It wasn’t lost on you that doing so was a glaring paradox, but what were the chances of Ryan returning to your small town in the first place? You knew now that the reason was Georgie, but that posed another question: what were the chances of you remembering Ryan specifically? Buskers passed through all the time, on their way to or coming from the city. You were accustomed to music floating through the air on your way to the diner when you didn’t have the opening shift, but Ryan’s music wasn’t just a nice tune you’d enjoyed on your way to work. Ryan’s music, his style and way of playing, his voice smooth as honey but rough with passion, wasn’t just music-- it was a force. Ryan in himself was a force, and in the most gentle, remarkable way. 

You pulled back reluctantly, your lips on fire and cheeks ablaze. You’d had one hell of a day, and your emotions were anything but regulated. The last thing you wanted to do was something out of your character, to tarnish your time with Ryan by doing something that, in hindsight, wouldn’t hold a meaning. You opened your eyes to see Ryan studying your face, and he smiled that boyish, crooked quirk of his lips— his incredible lips— that made your heart do somersaults. 

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for awhile,” he admitted, a slight chuckle accompanying his confession. You laughed, shaking your head more in disbelief than anything else  Ryan brushed his calloused fingertips softly over your forehead, gently curling a few wayward strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“How did you wait so long? I’m irresistible.” You dissolved into laughter and rolled your eyes dramatically, taking him by the hand and leading him the few steps back to the old loveseat you’d claimed as yours earlier in the evening. He followed suit easily, pulling you down to sit on one cushion as he sat on the other. 

“You are,” he told you, but there was no trace of laughter in his voice. His shadow of a smile held affection instead of humor. “You’ve made my time here more’n just playing a couple songs with Georgie. He’s off somewhere now, an’ me? I’m still here.”

It was a simple thing to say, obvious in nature but not in the way Ryan had said it. The connotation in his voice and what he meant was stunning. For a moment, you were quiet, turning his words over in your head. Then, you grinned shyly. 

“You’re something else, Ryan Brenner.” It was something he’d said to you many times, and it had grown into a habit, an inside joke. Turning toward him, you took both of his hands and your expression grew serious. “I owe you an explanation,” you started carefully, “But first I want to thank you for bringing such sunshine into my life since you’ve been here. I always look forward to work, but I found myself not dreading the walk there in the cold. I wanted to make sure to bring you some sort of warmth as thanks, even if it was just a cup of coffee during the day… something pulled me toward you, Ryan, And not for any reason other than how genuine you are. You’re unapologetic in who you are, and there’s no pretense you carry around with you. People like you are all but impossible to come by.”

Now that you were talking, really talking and free of anxiety, you couldn’t stop. Words just came pouring out in bursts with barely a moment between. You could talk to Ryan about how you felt about him for an hour, but you needed to get back to the truth and finish the conversation you’d started earlier. In your moment’s pause,Ryan took advantage of your silence and leaned toward you, pressing his lips to yours again softly, almost as if asking permission.

You hummed slightly against his lips, and you felt the warmth of his palm radiating through the material of your shirt. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Again, he gifted you with his mouth against yours, gently coaxing your lips open with his tongue, deepening the kiss. Your arm found its way over his shoulder, your hand curling around his neck and fingers getting lost in the long, dark hair there. You’d easily gotten yourself lost in Ryan, and consciously so. Kissing Ryan felt like home. 

When he broke away, his eyes were dark with desire, yet he simply rested his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes briefly. You slowly withdrew your fingers from his hair, your arm from his neck and shoulder, but Ryan’s hand remained on your back. The pressure was light, however, and he was gently running his fingertips up and down the middle of your back, straight over the line of your spine. You closed your eyes at first, relishing in his touch, feeling goosebumps pop up atop your skin. You opened your eyes as you felt him remove his forehead from yours, and you focused your gaze downward. Turning over his hand, you traced your index fingers over the tattoos, vertical lines between his middle and lower knuckles.

“It was my brother.” Finally confessing your truth, your voice was tiny, barely audible, and you felt the fall of your heart into the pit of your stomach. Nerves and shame burrowed there as well and spread like venom throughout your body. Your posture changed, your shoulders tense as you hunched into yourself unconsciously. A bitter taste was on your tongue, and that lump had lodged itself in your throat again, rendering your voice useless. You swallowed past it again, and you looked up at Ryan, knowing a simple glance could give you the courage you needed. His eyes were full of warmth and gentle encouragement, and his palm flattened over your back, rubbing gentle circles in effort to soothe you. 

Noel was at rock bottom. Because you’d been forced to change your locks and not give him a key, he’d resorted to breaking down your door and destroying your apartment searching for money that he either owed or needed to sustain his habit. That strength and effort, that apparent absence of remorse in someone who you’d trusted implicitly for years cut you like a knife, but more than that, it terrified you. Your brother had turned into a stranger. 

“I don’t know if I’m safe anymore, Ryan.” You looked up at him in a loss. “I don’t know where to go from here.”

Ryan was not a violent man, but at that moment, he felt a white hot anger for the man who had done this to you, your brother, a man he didn’t even know and had never laid eyes on. A man he hadn’t known existed until two minutes ago. But he was concentrating on what didn’t matter, and he needed to reroute that. You mattered. You were all that mattered to him in that moment, your peace of mind and your safety. Dipping his head, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and indulged in inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“We’re gonna figure it, okay? I promise you. I’mma be right here ‘till we do.” He paused and placed his index finger under your chin, drawing your face upward gently and catching your eye. Ryan needed you to see his sincerity. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Y/N. We’re in this together, you and me.”

[barbarasbae]

Even in Hawkins-The Front Seat

Part two of Even in Hawkins  

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader                                                                        Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader (kinda) 

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, omegaverse things (read: lots of smut), oral (male receiving), voyeurism, public masturbation (kinda),  recreational drug use, underage drinking, talk of coerced consent, 18+ 

Smut below the cut! Be cautious young readers 

The next time Billy saw the two omegas was in town at the record store. “Steve look at this one.” Steve’s laugh echoed through the store. She was holding up a europop album, the photo making it look like one of the band members was looking up her fellow band member’s ass. She put it back and flipped through the crate, gasping. “This one’s even better.”  She pulled it up, laughing hard. Mike Crain-Karatist Preacher. Steve joined her in mocking it. “I’m buying it.” She declared, wiping under her eyes. She moved closer to where Billy was standing, looking at the tapes, this time seemingly actually looking for something. Billy pretended like he wasn’t watching her, curious about what made Steve like her. She scooted down farther, biting her lip. She picked up a Queen tape and smiled. Billy found the Metallica tape he was looking for, thankful she was closer to the register than he was. He went around the aisle and bumped into her, her taking a step forward. “Sorry.” He smiled at her when she turned her head, winking. He could tell it had some affect on her, her sheepishly stepping out of the way. “It’s okay.” The small smile he got was a victory in his books. “Hey Harrington.” He called from the register, the omega getting flustered at the call of his name and dropping the record he’d been looking at onto the bins of records. “Hi.” He said, turning away from the blond alpha, not wanting to interact with him right now. Billy paid for his tape and left, seeing Steve’s hand resting on her lower back through the store window. 

Steve felt a little on edge ever since Billy had called him out at the record store, feeling like the alpha was gonna find him and beat him into submission again. It made him feel scared. Steve and Y/n were sitting along the road the Byers lived on, Steve sitting with a walkie talkie waiting for the kids to tell him they were ready to be picked up. “It’s like he’s always watching me. It freaks me out. I can’t wait for basketball to be over.” Steve shuddered, having caught Billy attempting to scent his shirt while he was showering yesterday. It was creepy. “I’m just...scared. That it’s gonna happen again.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He got a sympathetic rub from Y/n, her leaning on his shoulder. “Can I help maybe distract you?” He shrugged. She popped his jeans open, shifting to lay across the seat, tossing the walkie talkie to the back. She mouthed at his boxers, Steve letting out a whine of anticipation. “Y/n, what if someone sees us?”

“We’ll hear them. It’ll be okay. Relax, Stevie.” She cooed, kissing his cheek, her hand pulling from his boxers. She laid back down, tentatively licking at the tip of his cock, Steve’s huff encouraging her. She licked from his base to the tip in a flat stripe, sucking on the tip once she reached it. Her tongue poked at the vein that ran up the side of his length, Steve already squirming. Steve’s panting started to fog the windows, her bobbing her head up and down his length. An engine was suddenly up on them, Steve gasping. She sat up, wiping spit off her chin. The car stopped, idling by them. Steve sat with his breath held. Then the window rolled down. “Shit.” Steve hissed, shoving himself back into his pants. Steve rolled his window down. “You want something?” 

Billy had gone to pick up his sister from the Byers’s house, seeing a familiar red BMW sitting on the side of the road. He slowed down, seeing the windows slightly fogged. He parked and rolled down the window, a second later a pink faced Steve rolling his window down. That omega girl, Y/n was sitting in the passenger seat. Her lips were a little swollen. She coughed and sat back in her seat, not looking at him. “Hey pretty boy.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Hey sweetheart.” She flipped him off. “Don’t be like that-”

“I will be to people who call girls cows.” She said, not looking at him, lowering her arm. They sat there in silence for a moment, a weird game of chicken. Now Y/n had a bit of a problem. She was usually very docile, typical omega, but Steve made her be more dominant than she normally would be. She would not ever dream of being as aggressive as she was about to be towards an alpha but he was part of the reason Steve woke up crying so often, so her submitting  went out the window. “You gonna beat Steve up or just sit there and stare?” The blond alpha didn’t say anything. “Well if you’re not gonna do anything, I’d appreciate you moving on because there’s a dick I’d like to get back to sucking.” Steve was bright pink. “Y/n!” He hissed, embarrassed. “I have no idea why I said that.” She whispered back, clearly embarrassed. “Unless it’s mine I think I’ll keep sitting here.” This alpha was just making her angry. She reached over and rolled up Steve’s window. Billy’s jaw fell open, watching her bend over, Steve’s reaction clearly telling him she was sucking Steve off when he was right there. “Y-Y/n. Oh god.” Steve whimpered. It felt even better than before, the excitement of an alpha being right there getting to him. She didn’t stop, Steve letting out a sigh of relief as the camaro pulled off, disappearing around the corner. She wrapped her tongue around his tip, the blowjob sloppy and wet, much different from the control she normally had. “Oh fuck...fuck.” He whined, her getting on her knees in the passenger seat for more control. Her skirt fell forward as her ass was tilted more in the air. Steve’s hand flew up to grab the roof handle, the other tangling in her hair. “Jesus.” Steve groaned, hips lifting as he came. She sat up, swallowing, Steve still gripping the roof handle. She laughed a little at his frozen position, wiping her face. She kissed Steve’s chin and sat back down, finding her purse. Steve finally lowered his arms, zipping back up. She was fixing her makeup, Steve hearing the walkie talkie click on in the back seat. “Steve? We’re ready. Max is already on her way there.”

Billy parked behind the arcade, as far away from other cars as he could get. He pulled his cock out, feeling like a stupid knotheaded alpha for masturbating in public yet again over the pair of omegas. They were cute. He found his mind wandering at practice the day before, having spent it wondering what Steve really smelled like (it was obvious he was on suppressants, the brunet mostly smelling like muted lavender). Apparently it was so all consuming that Billy had very nearly buried his face in the sweaty shirt Steve dumped into his open locker. A little embarrassing. Billy thought he probably had a pretty good chance of making the pair a threesome. Alphas with more than one omega weren’t unheard of, especially if it was a male and female pair. Same sex pairs were significantly harder to join, the bond they have more monogamous than other pairs. It was nice when it was a male alpha/male omega/female omega group (and lots of them existed) because all three were able to have the freedom to work if they wanted, not just one being the breadwinner (omegas and alphas are wildly protective of their children, practically refusing to let anyone else watch their children on a daily basis). Billy grunted, coming on the seat. “Shit.” He growled under his breath, searching for a napkin before he ruined his leather seats. He waited for Max to be done in the arcade, blasting ‘Kill ‘Em All’ and formulating a plan. It involved both omegas being drunk and horny. 

This did not go as planned. He was gonna attempt to get them both in bed at the next party they all went to, but that happened to be the one Y/n decided to try weed for the first time. It made her so paranoid she was on the verge of a panic attack. And that’s how Billy found her. She was sitting on the floor whimpering for Steve, her breathing ragged. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. Hey, hey, you’re fine. It’s just making you paranoid, okay?” He sat next to her on the ground. 

“It’s gonna get me. Oh my god. Oh my god. Like it got Will. Like Barb.” She choked out, grabbing Billy’s leather clad arm. Tears were welling in her eyes, her rocking slightly, having brought her knees to her chest. “C-can’t swim in Steve’s pool. It’s gonna get me.” She was full on crying, Billy grabbing her hand. He leaned in a little to scent her and instead was met with the scent of alcohol. Great, drunk and high. “Billy?”  

“Yeah?”

“Please hold me.” She said in a whisper, her face close to his. He barely heard her over the music, but shifted. “Wanna sit in my lap?” She nodded numbly, sliding over. Her breath instantly evened out at the contact of his chest to her back, Billy wrapping his arms around her. “Okay. It’s okay. It’s gone. Can’t get me.” She said, soothing herself, gripping one of his hands. He nudged his nose against her scent gland, Y/n surprisingly letting him. Her head was tilted back on his shoulder, neck exposed. She was practically limp against him when he nuzzled against her, Y/n falling asleep in his lap. Steve was upset when he found her. “Get off of her.” He demanded, a little bit of a pout reaching his lips. “She asked me to, pretty boy.”

“We’re going home. Get off of her.” Billy wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had stomped his foot next. He huffed and let go, Steve pulling her up. She blinked awake at all the movement, wrapping her arms around Steve’s middle. She clung to him, Steve squeezing her close before leading her out of the house party. Billy went home alone yet again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Please send me an ask or dm if you would like to be tagged in Even in Hawkins/any other works

@harrysstyleseyes @fanficandartgal @theweirdirishone

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[astrogone]

                                             ANXIOUS MUNDAY MEME

@seekesotsibteadmist: What is something you want people to know right away about yourself?

PLEASE REMEMBER I AM EXTREMELY SLOW AT EVERYTHING!!!! I swear, there is a no apologizing for quick or late replies oocly and icly policy in this household because if you message me with an apology over that, you may get my response after a few days, if not a week, and I get so embarrassed like shdjsjd please, don’t be sorry at all. I get every reason behind any pace of the responses, so do not ever feel bad or anything replying to me too late or too quickly. Hell, you can take a whole damn MONTH to reply to me oocly or icly and I’ll still act like I would only be waiting for a day and be like “Ah! My friend! I love you”... But yeah, while I am easily distracted and exhausted to do this stuff, I usually have to reply back to ten to fifteen people oocly, and I will always have many people to reach out to when we haven’t interacted yet ( which if you haven’t interact to me yet, please, this is invitation that you can slap yourself in my IMs Now ), and my social energy / motivation to interact with people? It’s erratic as Hell. Also, I usually take way too much time replying to a post / message when it shouldn’t be the case. Like? For me to reply to a one paragraph in the thread will take me at least an hour to two. If you straight just say hi to me and ask how am I doing, it’ll take me at least five minutes to ten to just answer your very simple question.

I have an intellectual disability that gives me difficulties reading the given information, understanding them, and responding to them at a pace the average amount of people can do, but I can’t. The longest time you can get from me oocly is usually six days. Icly though? Boy, am I a lost cause with that. It can be anytime as I can reply to our thread for a month later, if not longer, I will have to let that be known, lmfao... But you’re more than welcome to give me a nudge for anything anytime. It may not get a quicker response from me anyway, knowing me, but just know that my silence towards you while I’m being noisy on dash or to others or such has nothing to do with you, ever. At least with oocly, I try to prioritize replying to people who I haven’t replied to the longest over those that I have done so recently, but I’m an absolute slow and low mess at everything, so! As that’s something I can never change, unfortunately, I can only wish that everyone interacting with me would be grateful for what we have already.

@sinisteraugurey: How much anxious internal screaming goes on with you on a regular basis?

It’s a 24/7 thing, man. I would just try to distract myself with whatever is in my way to block them, but, yeah, it just really be like that with me. Last night while I was trying to sleep, I kept staring at my window in concern because it had these shadows constantly moving behind the curtains, and there’s that small part of me that KNEW it’s just the tree branches that got caught in the lights of the streetlights, but, my mind kept telling me “they’re coming” and I was just constantly like,, “who tho,,, omg,,,,” but,, think about it,,,, I live in the sixth floor of a building, so how the Hell could the shadows reach up there?¿...

@vsentis & @arsonbeast​: What’s a tip you would give to people trying to get to know you?

Ask me questions from something simple like what’s my favourite colour to something over the top like how often do I get existential crisis lmfao even if it’s completely out of the blue or we don't know each other well yet, I wouldn’t ever mind answering them at all. As well if / whenever you are comfortable, talk about yourself as it will usually prompt me to do the same in return. I often don’t throw facts about myself to others because I think it would have others feel like they would be suddenly placed in a position of having to bring up information about themselves to me and I know not many people are comfortable to talk about themselves and / or their lives when they’re on this Hellsite to write and develop, which is totally understandable and I’m more than okay to be interacted with for just writing / plotting.

On a different note, I am planning to create a Carrd about my interests ( like what shows, music artists, etcetera I’m familiar with ) and slap it on my pinned post so it can give others a chance to get to know me more and bring them up to me to break down any tension from their end, so you can randomly pop into my DMs like “biTCH yOU WATCH B.UZZEED U.NSOLVED!?¡¿” and I’d be like “FUCK YE A H, I DO” and create chaos from there sndnsmd

@vsentis​: Is communication important to you?

Beyond important. I personally think communication is THE most important aspect in not just roleplaying, but in general. It’s what builds a strong relationship with the parties. The more they will interact with each other with a lot of patience and understanding, the higher chance that trust and comfort can be built stronger and tighter within a connection. Now, what do I have to say with me? I love talking to people, even when I’m a slow motherfucker at it and I get extremely frustrated and sad at the fact. I love when people talk to me and I can read about their days, personal projects, characters, so forth. I want people to feel that they can trust me and be comfortable coming to me for anything from a random chat to ranting / venting. Man, just straight up slap my DMs with a random photo of a forest and I’ll just not shut up about the time I nearly got lost in the forest.

Now, it does take time for me to reach out to people first, at least usually not because of IC related like plotting calls. For me to come to you randomly and talk about anything not roleplaying related? Again, I can’t be sure if people are comfortable with talking about themselves and their lives, but the more they come to me first for random ooc conversations, the more comfortable I will be to reach out to them first for so frequently. Another thing I do want to mention that if I do or say anything wrong or it’s making you uncomfortable, please? Reach out to me? I mean, I get that people aren’t obliged to teach others and whatnot, so do what you gotta do it the block and follow buttons to avoid wasting more energy and time, but it would truly help a lot with me and anyone else who I am / will interact with in the future. Just be honest with me and share your thoughts to me— I will listen and take them in mind. I absolutely hate to make people uncomfortable without knowing and I would be extremely appreciative if I was told why so I can be more considerate in the future.

@goldenornstein: Do random asks out of the blue upset you at all?

Not at all! In fact, I encourage sending me random asks! It might take a bit for me to reply like anything else, but I LOVE random asks! Makes me go “!!!” whenever I see a number on that mail symbol thingy. So, send me random memes, random thoughts, straight up just slap the word, P.ikachu, in the ask and send it to me and I’ll be like, “me fucking too, pal” jsjdkdk

@seekesotsibteadmist: What are some things you worry about in terms of new people?

I know I apologize for rambling or taking a long time to reply, but in the end, people being impatient or easily annoyed by me or whatever are my least worries. What I should be more concerned about but am somehow not is if this person actually holds good intentions with a good mindset. Even though I had my generosity taken advantage of way too many times by way too many people who I thought were really good friends in real life and online, I still? Somehow don’t ever think about the possibility that this person is actually very shitty when I interact with them as much as I should, considering how absolutely chaotic this site is. Being cautious is highly draining for me personally as I literally just want to vibe, so…

Just know that I take anyone in who my mutuals haven’t mentioned on their rules page ( yet if I do happen to interact with your abusers or people you’re not uncomfortable with because they’re doing / saying predatory / harmful things? Lemme know and I’ll instantly get out of their hair— you don't even need to give me an explanation, just don’t hesitate to say their URL and I’ll do my shit ), but I will instantly kick them off of my household the moment I see or learn anything from them that is predatory or harmful to people. If you do / say something that I don’t like, like misgender my muses or keep godmodding my muses or whatever, I’ll let you know how I feel, but if you’re gonna be stalking people, being disrespectful / abusive to anyone based on their genders, sexualities, ethnicities, disabilities, etcetera, write / make headcanons based those disgusting things we all know what, and so forth? I will hardblock and never look back, and that’s that.