#my car... she is fully functional again

[useful-boy]

AWOOOOOO GUESS WHO HAS A FUCKING CAR AGAIN

They actually fixed everything! The window (the original problem that started it all), the turn signals, the speedometer, the security system always thinking that a door was open when they were all shut and locked... Even the air conditioning suddenly works again! I thought that was gonna be a separate fix considering how it randomly died in July when nothing had happened to the car, but that works again! Holy fuck!

It only took roughly $100 of my own money spent on Ubers to/from the autoshop/dealership and 6 months of bullshit, but I finally, FINALLY have a working car again! God, this nightmare is finally over... And I never have to talk to a single person from that dealership ever again.

Still gonna totally rip them apart in a review though because like. Fuck them.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part two)

(part one)

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 

He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.

Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 

Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 

“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”

“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 

So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 

“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 

Steve asks, “How much time?” 

The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 

Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.

“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  

Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 

He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 

Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 

“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 

“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 

“And us,” Erica adds as well. 

Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 

“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 

Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 

He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.

“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 

“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 

“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”

“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 

Robin’s eyes go wide now. “Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 

She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 

“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 

“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 

She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 

“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 

“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.

Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”

Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”

“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”

“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...��� 

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 

“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.

It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 

“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 

Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 

~ 

The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 

“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 

“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 

“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 

The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 

“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.

The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 

“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”

“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 

“So you guys joined the club, then?” 

This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.

At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 

“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 

Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 

“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 

Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 

Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 

“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 

“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 

And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.

(part three!)

taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x (f) Reader - Telephone Cable (WARNINGS, SMUT)

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, stepdadxstepdaughter, while mom is away, (slight) choking kink, cockwarming, daddy's girl, unprotected s*x, creampie, daddy kink, praise kink, secrecy, Modern Day AU!, Henry giving William a call. AN: The first two paragraphs are a decoy. Underneath the read more is the real stuff. Based on this post

Sunlight peeped through the blinds, creating stripes of gold on the two intertwined figures. It was William’s favorite chair, so naturally, he’d sat down on that, drink in his hand, while the clock behind him ticked as he waited for your mom to go out.

The distant sound of her car became fainter and fainter. And then you and him were alone.

A smile spread on his face, showing straight teeth in a joyful but perverse way. A silent promise. And all he needed to do was pat his hand on his lap, and you came over to him like an obedient little pet.

~ * ~ You could feel the heat of his body against your back, the way his hairy hips rested against you from below. Your pussy squelched delightfully with each shallow thrust, and a low hum escaped his throat.

"You’re a real daddy's girl, aren’t you?" He whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps over your skin.

You’d been on your stepdad’s cock for a little over an hour. Just there to function as a warm cocksleeve around his shaft, until his cock had grown hard inside of you and your body thrummed with desire for more.

You bit your lip and tried to nod, but the movements made it difficult. So instead, you answered by moving your hips against his own, lifting yourself a little further off his cock before you sat back down again. Your hands were on his legs, near to his knees.

You could see your reflection on the inky black television screen.

"So nice,” William’s low voice sounded, his hands tightening on your hips before this grip loosened again. He kept your hips deliberately still, making sure he had full control again. The thrusts he gave were shallow, as if he wanted to draw it all out, making the pleasure last as long as possible.

“Still so tight," he grunted, The gentle thrusts were not enough to bring you to the brink, but deep enough to make you shudder and your walls flutter around him. You could feel the ridges of his veins, the hot flesh of hard erection as it was buried inside you, the head pressed snugly against your cervix, kissing your womb and leaking the first drops of cum.

“Think I can make you come before your mom is back?” you heard your stepfather ask, his voice hoarse with delight. His hand squeezed your right breast, hidden underneath yoru sweater.

His hips still only moved leisurely.

“I think I’m gonna fill you up before she comes home. Have you carry all my seed inside your womb while she prances around, not knowing Daddy filled up her little girl good,” the mental image sent shivers down your spine and you bit your lip again. “Would you like that, huh? Keep Daddy’s secret?”

Your heart raced, the threat of him coming inside you while your mom was away only made the moment more exhilarating. Still, his hips only moved slowly and shallowly. The itch inside your core begged for more. And so did you. "Harder, Daddy," you pleaded, unable to contain your desire as you tried to move your hips. But his hands tightened on your hips, keeping you firmly pressed against him. He stopped moving fully now.

“Do you think you are in a position to make demands?” came the rough voice of your stepdad. William let go of your right hip to push his glasses back on his nose, the frame pressing against the skin around his eyes.

You whimpered sadly, wishing he would pick up his pace and let you come. Your eyes went to the clock. Not long before your mom would arrive home. You’d been on your stepdad’s cock for a little over an hour, cunt sopping wet and his shaft coated with your juices. Yet, he never let you properly ride him or come.

You just hoped he would have mercy on you and decide to make you come before your mom arrived home. You wanted to have your fill. No. Needed it.

He might love edging, but you loved it more when your pussy throbbed around him and pleasure washed over you. Nothing weird about that, right? You thought you deserved it with all the things he made you do.

“Didn’t I ask you a question?” he wondered, though the teasing in his voice was evident. He just wanted you to acknowledge his filthy desires.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, eager to move your hips. He stilled them again, smacking the flat of his hand against your right ass cheek for good measure, an indication for you to keep still. Yet, your pussy squeezed around his cock, eager for more. You heard the gasp that escaped his lips -  he wasn’t left unaffected.

“I’ll keep your secret Daddy. I won’t tell anyone that you filled me up. Won’t tell Mom. Just, please, make me cum.”

“Well,” William drawled, the fingers of his hands gently stroking past the soft flesh of your hips. “Since you ask so nicely…”

You bit your lip, prepared for the ecstasy that was about to come. But just as William tightened his grip on your hips again and the muscles in his hips tensed, his mobile phone lit up with an incoming call.

You growled in annoyance, throwing the screen a glare. The name that lit up on the screen was a familiar one and your heart sank. It was his business partner, Henry. He would never deny Henry. It might be something important, especially as Henry was at work today at the restaurant they both owned.

As predicted, your stepdad picked up the phone, still holding you close, and you were just incredibly grateful that Henry hadn’t started a video call but a normal audio one.

“I’m sorry, Henry, could you repeat that again?” you heard your stepdad say, frowning while he pushed the glasses back on his nose again. His other hand, still on your hip, forced you slightly up from his cock only to guide you back down again with a squelch. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. Suppose if Henry heard…

“It’s really hard to hear you,” a pause. “Could be… Henry, can you call the landline instead?" he asked.

Another thrust, deeper this time, hard. His cockhead bumped against your womb’s entrance, involuntarily slickening your core.

And then William put his mobile phone down, screen facing the table. You could see just in time how the call had ended and glanced at William over your shoulder to try and measure his reaction to it all.

His eyes were hidden behind glinting glasses, his expression hard to see. But then he frowned and grabbed your hips harder. Your stepdad snarled in your ear: "You better keep quiet. This is an important call."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the anticipation building as the landline phone rang. William picked it up, and you noticed how the cable of the phone brushed against you, sending another shiver down your spine. Glancing over your shoulder you saw he must have noticed it as well, eyes focused on the cable.

He hooked the phone between his chin and shoulder, using both hands to guide your hips up and down until he found the right pace and angle.

"Hello, Henry," William said, his voice steady despite the situation. Your mind swirled with thoughts of what might happen next, the danger of being discovered only heightening the thrill. But you knew you had to keep quiet, not wanting to ruin this moment or jeopardize his work.

"William, we've got a problem at the pizzeria," Henry's voice crackled through the phone. "One of the arcade games is on the fritz again."

Thrust. You brought your hands up to your lips, covering your mouth with both of them as your stepdad decided that this was the perfect moment to properly start fucking you.

After being inside of your warm cunt for so long, this was the time. When you had to be quiet.

You silently cursed him inside your mind as he picked up a pace. The position in which you were in enabled him to hit you deep inside.

"Which one?" William asked, his voice steady even as he wrapped the telephone cable around your neck, surprising you. Your eyes flew open wide, hands darting from your lips to the cable. His strong hand pulled, tightening the cable around your neck, cutting off your flow of oxygen ever so slowly. You gasped as he forcefully made you ride him, guiding your movements with his hips and the grip on the phone cable.

"Whack-a-Mole," Henry replied. Slick sounds came from where your hips met, where his cock moved in and out of you with force. "It's been acting up all week, and I can't figure out what's wrong with it."

"Did you try resetting the system?" William inquired, gently tightening the cord around your neck. You struggled to keep your breaths quiet, focusing on the sound of their conversation.

"Of course I did," Henry sounded exasperated. Your cunt clamped down on William’s cock and you bit your tongue from crying out. Behind you, William transferred the cable of the phone to the same hand he was holding the phone in – not only tightening the cable around your neck but also leaving his left hand free.

That free hand circled you to rub against your clit, making you writhe on top of him as you tried to suppress a moan. Your walls started to flutter helplessly around his shaft, and he closed his eyes and nibbled on his bottom lip in reply.

"It worked for a while, but then the problems started up again."

"Sounds like a short circuit," William suggested, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he watched your eyes widen. "You'll need to open it up and check the wiring."

Thrust, squelch, thrust. Your breasts bounced underneath your shirt as he picked up the pace – no bra as requested. You felt your face flush in embarrassment, praying that Henry did not hear the wet noises that filled the room, and grateful that phone calls with smell hadn’t been invented yet. The room smelled heavily of musk, of raw intercourse and hot slick.

His fingers against your clit roughened, increasing the pace until his index finger slipped forth and bumped against your slick hole and his cock. And then his touch subsided, just in time to prevent you from coming.

You subdued a groan in annoyance. Nearly there, you thought. But the promise that he would make you come still lingered.

"All right, I'll give that a shot," Henry agreed, though there was a brief pause in which William’s hips didn’t move forth, but instead circled, stirring his cock - like a wooden spoon in soup - inside of you.

You gasped at the sensation, your hands loosening the grip on the cable and grabbing air instead as you threatened to fall forward. The cable pulled you back, the only thing holding you upright on your stepdad’s lap.

And then, with a devilish grin, your stepdad pressed his hips against you again with a loud squelch. His cockhead bumped against your cervix, eliciting a yelp from your lips. Although not loud, it obviously had been loud enough.

"Is everything okay over there?” Another pull on the cable took your breath away, preventing any more sound. Somehow, the suffocation was just enough to tip you over the edge. Stars started to cloud your vision, your walls clamping down hard on your stepdad’s cock.

Tears formed in your eyes as your stepdad humped his hips against yours, cock pressing against that delicate spot deep inside while you came.

You actually came.

The grip on the cable loosened and you brought your hands to your lips again to keep from crying out, walls trembling around William’s cock as your body was submitted to wave after wave of orgasm.

It felt so good.

And he didn’t stop or show mercy. He just kept fucking you as if he wanted you to betray your secret tryst.

“It sounds like there are some...odd noises. Are you playing with one of the new animatronics, hmm?" Henry said, indicating that William had promised to work on a new animatronic for their enterprise.

William grinned. “Perhaps,” he teased, another particularly hard and deep thrust. It betrayed that he was near now as well. That, and the hoarseness that crept into his voice.

"But you will have to wait and find out," William lied smoothly, giving the cord a playful tug. Your body reacted accordingly. "Don’t worry. My day off is well spent."

"Okay, if you say so," Henry said, still sounding a bit suspicious. "I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for the help, William."

"Anytime, Henry. Good luck," William replied before hanging up the phone.

As soon as the call ended, he removed the cable from around your neck, leaving behind a faint red mark. His hands went down to your hips, forcing them up and down. Your tight walls were forced up and down his shaft, clamping down like a vice. His breathing increased.

You muttered nonsensical things, all soft whispers as the overstimulation was getting too much.

“Almost,” your stepdad mumbled, “almost, there, baby girl, almost,” and with a loud groan he came with one firm thrust deep inside.

You felt your body tremble as you came down from your high, breath returning to you as your pussy pulsed softer and softer around his throbbing cock.

Hot liquid coated your walls. And then there was silence. Just the ticking of the clock.

You moved gently on top of him, turning to face him over your shoulder and placing a petite kiss on his lips. His blue eyes were fixed upon you, following your gaze with affection. You knew he would deny it if you asked him, but he truly cared about you. This was more than just a primal hunger for sex. Your stepdad loved you, and you were starting to feel the same.

More and more with each day.

"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered, flushed and breathless from the exhilarating experience. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to the top of your head, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Get dressed," he ordered firmly, his eyes glinting with a hint of danger. "Your mom will be home soon."

You obeyed without hesitation, standing up on trembling legs. His cock, for the first time in nearly two hours, slipped free from its confines: you.

It felt odd after having been filled for so long. You knew your stepdad loved to be close to you and to enjoy your warmth for as long as possible. And quite often that wasn’t long enough. It was why he wanted you to sit naked on top of him – whether just with your pants off or skirt flipped up, or perhaps naked in full. It didn’t matter, as long as he would be inside of you.

At first, you had thought it weird, but exciting. Now, you’d grown used to it, and you loved the feel of his stretch. You missed him when he was gone.

Slipping your panties back on, you made sure that William could see the evidence of his actions. The sticky cum that slipped out of you was dripping on the fabric of your panties, coating the crotch of your panties like paint. You left them deliberately halfway up your knees, waiting for all of the sticky liquid to have left your folds. Once the dripping stopped, and most of it had collected in your panties, you slowly pulled them up and pressed William’s hot cum against your core once more. As if your body could absorb it like this a second time.

Once your mom would be home, those panties would still be on, and your stepdad would still be inside and against you. He growled appreciatively, a predatory smile curving his lips.

"Daddy's good girl," he murmured, just as the sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached your ears. Both of you glimpsed outside, hidden by the blinds, to see your mom step out of the car, a bright smile on her lips. Your stepdad turned to you, flicking a knuckle of his fingers gently past your cheek; an affectionate gesture.

His blue eyes slid down to your now-clothed cunt, knowing his cum was still there. Then, William quickly left the room. You hurried to make yourself presentable, running a hand through your disheveled hair before retreating to your room, pretending as if you'd been there all along.

When your mom opened the door, you were behind your desk working on an assignment that needed to be finished soon. You smiled up at her, innocently. “Hi Mom, how was your day?”

AN: For @likoplays 8) Might do a different approach to the same prompt later on. Not betaread etc.

Taglist: @likoplays @2pacl0ve

AN: For more, follow me (:

~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

DIHWYF Incorrect Quotes but it's mild Carmine sisters chaos

Because ✨sisters ✨

Clara, staring at newly adopted Vaggie: Um...want a beer?

Odette: She's like...five!

Clara: I DUNNO, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HER?!

Clara: I'M BREAKING THE WINDOW!

Odette, whispering into her phone: Uh, hi- we locked our baby sister in the car and people are judging us.

Clara, now running around looking for a rock: I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA BREAK IT!

Odette, whirling around: DO NOT BREAK THE WINDOW, YOU'LL GET GLASS ON HER!

Odette: But if you keep making up words, no one will understand you.

Young Vaggie: Clara will. Watch. *tugs on Clara's arm*

Clara: Yeah, squirt?

Vaggie: *complete gibberish*

Clara, immediately playing along: Whoa, are you serious?

Vaggie: *more gibberish*

Clara: I'd never considered that before!

Vaggie: *very serious gibberish*

Clara, patting her head: This changes everything.

Odette, facepalming: You're both crazy.

*Odette, spotting Vaggie trying to sneak out of her bedroom: Oh, not again. Come on, go back to bed before Mamá sees you.

Vaggie: But I don't want to go to bed!

Odette: Too bad, manita.

Vaggie, pouting: Why do I have to go to sleep? Why can't I just stay awake all night?

Odette, sighing and getting up to walk her back bed: Because that's the way the world is.

Vaggie: Well I'm going to make it so that's not how the world is!

Odette, tucking her in: That sounds like a big job. You're gonna need a full night's sleep for that.

Vaggie: Yeah, I will! *triumphantly snuggles in*

Vaggie, ten minutes later: Hey, wait a second-

Vaggie, curled up in front of the fridge: :(

Clara, spotting her: You alright, hermana?

Vaggie, sadly: I just miss Odette**.

Clara, sitting down next to her: Aw, I know.

Vaggie: And the fridge doesn't like me :(

Clara: I...know?

*Odette: Bed. Sleep. Now.

Vaggie, trying to hide behind Clara: But I'm not tired!

Clara: Yeah, 'Dette, she's not tired!

*they're both asleep in Clara's bed in ten minutes later*

Clara, snuggling lil' Vaggie: Big sister's going to drop-kick anyone that touches you 🥰

Odette, without missing a beat: And bigger sister's going to bail big sister out of jail.

Carmilla, cuddling Vaggie after she tripped and fell: I know it's tough, mija. But hey, how many times have you bumped your head or gotten a bruise while you're playing with your sisters?

Vaggie, holding an ice pack on her knee: Um...lots.

Carmilla: Right. And what do they always tell you?

Vaggie: ...don't tell Mamá?

Carmilla, who was fully expecting a different answer: What?!

Clara, who'd walked into the room to check on her little sister: Uh...I'll maybe come back later?

Clara, holding an ice pack to her sister's head: How much do you remember?

Teenage Vaggie, who'd just gotten into her first fight: Just the ambulance ride to the hospital, I think.

Odette: That wasn't an ambulance ride, I drove you.

Vaggie: But I heard sirens?

Clara: That was your girlfriend.

Charlie, clutching the largest teddy bear the hospital sold***: I got nervous!

Charlie, fresh into their relationship: If something happened to Vaggie, I...I couldn't live with myself.

Odette, completely straight faced: You wouldn't have to. Clara and I would kill you.

Vaggie, trying to sneak off with Charlie at a party: Guys, I need your help.

Clara: Oooh, ok. I have an idea.

Odette: Is it a bad idea?

Clara: *darts off in Velvette's direction*

Odette, jumping up to chase after her: CLARA, IS IT A BAD IDEA-****

Vaggie, walking by with a teapot:

Clara: Whatcha doing?

Vaggie: It's for Zestial. I'm planning on making some bad choices tonight and I want him on my side when Mom finds out.

Clara: Oooh, smart. I'll have to remember that.

Odette, not looking up from her laptop: I never realized the forethought that went into raising our mother's blood pressure.

BONUS:

Carmilla, trying to calm Lucifer down after he came to her for advice about Charlie: Look, I've raised three fully functional, well adjusted children and-

Luci, sniffling: You have three kids I don't know about?

Carmilla: ...

BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL

Here's a link to the AU!

*these exchanges definitely took place less than an hour apart.

**Odette is fine, she's just on a business trip and her sisters are sad.

***That bear is not for Vaggie. She has a different one for Vaggie. The older Carmines got her that so she would calm the fuck down

****is this a hint as to how Charlie and Vaggie meet? 🤫

[maxsimagination]

𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 - 𝗮.𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗱𝘆

warnings: bit angsty, talk of the spanish problems

tw for vilda and rubiales

------

i was spanish born and raised, it wasn't something i tried to hide. my friends knew it, my girlfriend knew it, the team knew it. unfortunately, the media knew it too, and when the world cup scandal happened and then the players returned to their home clubs, it was the perfect chance for the media to get their opinions.

but they didn't have a very friendly way of getting it.

i had been called up to the world cup, i'd played in it. i wouldn't have played if i knew about the corruption that the spanish federation held. and don't get me wrong i was stoked that we won, but i refused to celebrate the fact that vilda and rubiales won too. change needed to happen.

now i'd been called up to the national team again for the nations league. i was one of only three players who had stood by their decision and refused to play. mapi leon and patri guijarro the other two, who refused to play in the world cup.

i knew that they could revoke my license to play for club and country and they could fine me, but i didn't care. my manager and coach at man city knew of the situation and he was fully supportive of what i'd chosen to do.

most of my teammates knew of what was happening too, especially alanna. she was my girlfriend of two years, us having got together after only a couple months of knowing each other.

normally we'd drive me into practice or training together and we wouldn't have a problem with fans or media. but this morning i was at my own house and alanna wasn't giving me a ride. she had to pick up mary from somewhere and drive her into practice.

so i gathered my kit from its various places around the apartment and got ready. i grabbed my car keys from the hook and headed out.

i stopped off at the closest coffee shop on the way there, i needed to grab my morning coffee before functioning. when i pulled into the staff and players part of the parking lot, i knew something was up. there were more cars than usual here, especially in the normal parking and it had an overcrowded vibe to it.

i grabbed my kit from the back and had my coffee, phone and keys in my hands.

i saw alanna's car in the lot so i knew she was here already. before i could make it inside the training facility, i was being surrounded by people, mostly fans and media reporters. i quickly typed out a 'help' message to alannna and hoped she'd know to come out. t

he reporters started throwing questions at me about the spanish football federation and why i wasn't playing. the fans just wanted to get photos.

i signed a couple of things and took a couple photos but the media kept asking and bugging me. they wouldn't stop, even when i tried to get in to train.

"y/n! how do you feel about being called up again?"

"are you going back to play for spain?"

"why are you refusing to play, y/n?"

only a couple of questions thrown at me were able to be heard, most of it was just people shouting and clamouring to get my attention. i didn't answer anything from the media, they were questions that already had answers to them.

i'd done an interview alongside mapi and patri when this first happened and we all answered questions to this degree.

i tried in vain to get inside the training facility again before checking my phone to see if alanna had gotten my message. she of course had, and there were a flurry of messages from her asking where i was and what happened. i shot one back just stating 'outside' and hoped to god that she'd come quickly.

thankfully she did and not even a minute later i was being dragged by the wrist away from the media and journalists and back into the safety of the facility and my girlfriend's arms. i breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged me.

"thankyou, i thought they'd eat me alive." alanna continued rubbing my back in comfort.

"they shouldn't even be here, it's a closed practice. are you okay? what did they say?"

"i'm ok, lans. they just kept throwing questions about the world cup and the federation at me. and shouting. there was so much shouting."

alanna hugged me again before she lead me inside and we set my stuff down.

"i am never letting you drive here yourself ever again. hempo can drive mary, they live close, i’m driving you. it will never happen again." my heart warms at her fierce words.

"you don't have to do that, i'll just get here early so they don't have a chance to get me."

"they shouldn't be here anyway. i'm coming with you, end of story." she raised her eyebrow at me, daring me to question her. i found it all funny how she reacted so i was smiling. "okay okay. you drive me to training. happy?"

"yes. very happy." she looked smug and very proud with herself and we joined the rest of the team in the locker room to get ready for practice.

[this-aint-massachusetts]

MORE FNAF HCS BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT

more hcs because I’m losing my mind and I can’t contain the sillyness any longer

-Mike sometimes have nightmares of William succeeding and Abby being another victim of his and will get up in a cold sweat to check on her in her room, sometimes glad to see her staying up late because it means she's still there

- Abby gets nightmares of Mike not waking up when she ran over to him and wakes up in tears, and goes and climbs into his bed, forcing his arm up to sneak in and hold her, he's usually awake by then and tells her everything will be okay and that he's okay

-Abby is really picky about the texture of her stuffed animals so Mike learns over time and buys them accordingly, even warning people ahead of time if they ever wants to buy one to bring him with her

-When Mike really got into doing pushups, if Abby was awake early enough she'd sit on his back or play with her dolls on his back pretending it's a boat in the ocean (he complained at first but took it as another moment to be with his sister)

-Ness is the type to remember everyone's orders, he has them memorized by their third visit His boss would be impressed if he wasn't constantly yapping to the customers disrupting kitchens flow 

-Mike Found the song that the animatronics played and will play it for Abby sometimes and watch her dance, glad to see her smiling again (until he's invited to dance to which he pretends to hate witch makes Abby giggle)

-Mike: "Abby if I die here you can draw on my grave, wouldn't mind.

Abby: "Please don't talk like that."

-After waking up, Vanessa chose to take a bit of a calmer job as a SRO at Abby’s school

-Mike went to Abby's school for her lunch to surprise her for her birthday and Vanessa is only is told it's a "surprise visitor" & nearly makes Mike piss his pants w how scary she was to greet him before seeing it was him

-Vanessa is very caring when it comes to Mike or Abby being sick or injured. Mike has a really hard time excepting help so he just pretends he’s fine until he can barley function 

-Abby loves to paint others nails but not hers, if she has any kinda nail polish on or paint on her nails she’ll bite at them

-Ness writes little silly puns and jokes on to-go orders and will for sure spend forever choosing the right one and will wake up the next day with an even better one and be down the whole day

-Vanessa is really, like embarrassingly bad at bedtime stories, like Mike tried being nice about it but Abby wasn't

-Mike is both the pickiest eater and the will try anything guy at the same time

-Abby Was taught to warn Mike of cops on the road but now she recognizes Vanessa's car and says "there's Vanessa!" And she purposely pulls him over to chat with Abby

-Abby called Mike dad by accident and he couldn't stop crying for hours and Abby thought she offended him and made it a thing to call him "big brother Mike™”

-Abby will pretend to be asleep for more time in bed and Mike's comfort. Mike knows damn well she's awake but doesn't have the heart to actually wake her up and finds himself playing with her hair and glad she's safe

-Abby still has Mike's old security badge and vest and likes to go around pretending that she has a taser and goes around "defeating animatronics" which is just tickling Mike while he's trying to get work done

-Abby before the events at Freddy's she was always warned by Mike about the germs in a ball pit so that one scene was quite literally a last ditch effort for her

-Vanessa has been asked multiple times to scare Abbys bullies but gives the corny "tell a trusted adult they're not worth it" speech to her and feels proud about it. Mike tells Abby to just beat them up /hj (She takes his advice and both get lectured by Vanessa)

-Mike was 100% ready to fight Vanessa if he needed to because he really needed the job and was fully prepared to live up to the "keep people out" rule (based off the scene where they first met)

-Mike entered his emo phase the second Garrett got taken and left it the second he got custody of Abby, mostly because he was too busy to dress up anymore

-Abby managed to get ahold of Mike's taser from when he was a mall cop and brought it in for show and tell

-Vanessas first reaction to seeing the fazbear band for the first time was to ask why the band didn't have a drummer and William grounded her for seven months and didn't speak to her the entire time because he was so deeply offended and embarrassed

-sometimes when the animatronics get bored they dial random numbers into the phone and see what happens and one time they managed to call the White House completely by accident

-Abby and Vanessa do sister stuff together like braiding hair, baking cookies, and playing Barbies with insane reality tv level drama (it freaks Mike out but he just assumes it's girl stuff he wouldn't understand)

-Mike was really into skateboarding when he was younger, he doesn't do it much anymore but whenever he needs to flex on someone he whips out the triple kick flip and everyone is like how tf is that pathetic wet cat of a man doing that

-Ness runs a blog on Livejournal that’s basically food theory but in the 2000’s and he takes it very seriously 

-When they were at the pizzeria Abby found the ballon boy figurine and wanted to take it home because she thought it was cute. Mike almost had a heart attack when he found it at the house

-One time Abby found Mikes bong and thought it was a vase so she put some flowers in in and put it up for decorations, Mike, Ness and Vanessa nearly pissed themselves laughing when they saw it

-Abby is obsessed with furbys, Mike on the other hand almost shit himself when he heard it talking in the middle of the night. Fear only got worse after Freddy’s 

-Mike couldn’t afford an ambulance to drive Vanessa to the hospital so he just called a taxi (Cory went through enough that night so he just gave up and drove them, he was pissed afterwards tho because blood got all over his seats)

-Abby has a fish tank in her room that’s just filled with bugs and dirt, Mike has insisted to get rid of it multiple times because it smells rancid and the bugs kill each other regularly 

-It took Mike 5 times to just get his learners permit 

-William was a frat in collage

-Ness and Abby are both bug lovers and both cry when you squish a bug, Mike hates bugs and doesn’t get it

-Mike likes fishing and is lowkey hyperfixated on it

-William kept all the important files in a small ass trapper keeper that he stole from Vanessa 

-Mikes car hasn’t been inspected in eight years, not cause he thinks he won’t pass he just forgot to do it and just never did it again (but srysly look at it it’s fucking disintegrating)

-Mike also doesn’t like when other people take care of him because he doesn’t want to be seen as needy but Vanessa and Ness are like: “YOU WILL TAKE MY LOVE AND CARE GOD DAMNIT!” (In a loving way tho)

-Ness steals the crayons from the kids menus and gives them to Abby 

Oki final part for now because I can’t think of anything else 😜

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Mhok took Day out of the house to handle his withdrawal from university. The dean only allowed a temporary pause, encouraging Day not to give up on schooling or his future. While at school, Mhok made Day take him around a bit, but also helped shield him from encountering some of his friends before he was ready. Later, they went to a busy market to search for a book Day wanted on what was absolutely a date. Unfortunately, Mhok lost focus at one point and started fighting Porjai’s fiancé when he realized ole boy was stepping out on her. Mhok managed to find Day through the help of the hot pink shirt they had bought earlier, and then went home to Day’s worried family. The mom tried to fire Mhok, but Day stepped in and refused to let Mhok go.

“Do you even know how to flirt? I bet you don’t,” into Mhok putting the bowl of jasmine flowers in front of his nose. You both are fooling no one.

I like that Mhok is still taking Day out on trips, and I’m glad we’re using the He’s Coming to Me car.

Oh no, the intentionally bad singing. I almost never have to mute the singing, but did so here.

I love the dynamic between Porjai and Mhok. We almost never get to see exes with a functional friendship. That Mhok will likely end up with Day, and projecting a bit because of Namtam, we have bisexual exes with a good friendship. That feels special.

Day seems insistent about this friend thing, and it clearly touches Mhok.

Look at Day trying to get some details on Mhok by calling him Porjai’s boyfriend. He’s clever, but so is Porjai.

I’m always happy to see Film. I like this character already. She’s got a little bit of a chip on her shoulder that makes her seem tough.

I’m glad Day’s sense of humor has returned and he can tease Gee. That’s a good sign.

I like the show introducing new social challenges for Day every time he steps out a little bit to do something again. Telling Gee led to going to the gym, which led to an invite to a team event, and now he’s been faced with a fan.

I am very much looking forward to Day meeting August again.

Sea really has a great smile. He’s grown a lot as a performer since Vice Versa.

I also won first and second place trophies in national competitions. I feel for Day here.

I feel like I saw a recipe for this soup earlier today but cannot recall the name now.

This soft hands scene is GAY as hell!!

Mhok and Keng about to be like Kim and Sheego: ON SIGHT.

SHE’S PREGNANT!!

Did the badminton team host their goodbye party at a gay club??

Okay, I like Khaw asking Day about porn. That’s probably dude behavior. Quickly communicates the past relationship and their attempts to be more comfortable with each other.

Mhok really is so tactful when it comes to Day. Showing up in the bathroom and clearing up that social situation instantly was so well done.

No, Day, please don’t make Mhok sing again. I’m enjoying the flirting enough!

I fully expected Mhok to sing the romantic song from the car and was not wrong. Oh, Aof.

I wonder how badly Day and August parted that he was so nervous about running into him today.

Just throw him into bed sweaty and in his outside clothes??

Oh, whew, we’re making Day change at least.

Mm, I’m feeling emotional about Day trying to privately see Mhok’s face and not give himself away.

Yep. Mhok was in prison. He’s definitely a light sleeper, and definitely knew what as happening.

Oh, hell yeah! August shows up next week!

This really is one of my favorite shows airing right now. Aof has a strong handle on the pacing of relationships, and he loves when relationships work towards emotional closeness after another boundary is crossed.

[trivialbob]

I had a fun three-day weekend.

As I briefly mentioned earlier, I went to Chicago. Thursday I stopped halfway and spent the night at a bed & breakfast in Baraboo, WI.

Baraboo is where the Ringling Brothers started their circus of the same name in 1884. The B&B I stayed it the former home of one of the brothers.

More after the cut.

I like the shared areas at B&Bs. There were only three other people there Thursday night. I didn't really get to mingle as they kept to themselves.

That typewriter would have been fun to use for my blog post. Sadly, it lacked wi-fi and Bluetooth connections. There was an old, hand-cranked phonograph in the next room that was fully functional.

Downtown Baraboo has plenty of bars (because it's Wisconsin). There were a number of restaurants and cafes too. The two-story brick buildings I like in small towns were plentiful. I logged a lot of steps walking up and down the streets, peering into windows. This is another town where I think it would have been fun to stay a week and try more bars and restaurants.

There are two breweries in Baraboo. Of course I visited both.

The first, I was told, has better food. Tumbled Rock is where I went for dinner and flight of beers. My burger and fries were most satisfying. The beer selection was impressive. Each of the five I sampled I would definitely buy again.

When I finished dinner I drove three miles back to my B&B and parked the car. Then I walked to the other brewery, the Al. Ringling Brewing Co.

Inside was neat. The coolers behind the bar, filled with cans of beer, had wooden doors, mechanical handles, and glass panels. The bartender told me it was a functional refrigerator.

This place was also a former home of a Ringling brother. But it was a mansion. There used to be a bowling alley in the basement for the family. The bar top is made from old sections of the bowling alley floor.

One of the brews on tap was Cherry Pie Fruit Sour with Swedish Fish. The nice, young bartender told me the brewers add a bag of the candy fish to the mix while making the sour.

I said I hope a serving of it comes with a Swedish Fish candy garnish. She grinned and promptly brought me a glass of it with the a Swedish Fish garnish!

The mention of fish made me want to suggest a Pizza Flavored Goldfish Beer, or at least free bowls of my favorite little crackers in lieu of pretzels, but the bartender had other customers to tend to. I missed that opportunity to pitch my idea. Maybe I should write a letter?

During my walk around town I noticed that Baraboo has a bit of a continental divide in its middle. At Oak Street, the numbered roads change from Avenues to Streets, or vice versa, depending on which way you walk. You can be at the intersection of 6th St and 6th Ave, and the two aren't even perpendicular.

The next morning I joined the other B&B guests for a waffle breakfast. This time I socialized with them and the owners of the B&B. We learned about the history of the city and all about the Ringling Bros. and their circus.

Fun time. Afterward I took my time driving to Chicago. I timed it right to miss the worst of rush hour. More about Chicago in a later post.

[dark-nimbus]

A Rant on Representation in Media (mostly comics)

CW: ableism, disability erasure, mentions of fat phobia, mentions of fetishization, lmk if there’s anything I missed

I can’t believe that here in 2023 we still have to say this, but fuck it this year has already been hell enough so why not add another thing

Representation, whether it be for disabilities or culture, race or religion, any marginalized group— ALWAYS MATTERS

I spent the majority of the other night dealing with people trying to downplay the impact of Barbara Gordon’s paralysis being retconned. Wanna see how that went?

“Oh, but it’s okay if Barbara Gordon still has some mobility because there’s paralyzed people that regain their ability to walk”

Her spinal cord was completely severed, she was left fully paralyzed from the waist down

“There’s a 60yo fighting in a Kevlar bat suit and shifting clay people, but Barbara getting her legs back again is a problem?”

Okay, can clay people restore a spinal injury? Can Batman punch a nervous system into fully functioning? What relation does that have?

Aside from the fact there’s zero connection between the two, paralysis actually fucking exists. Batman and clay shifters, believe it or not, don’t. Lemme know if you find an irl Batman or Clayface that needs representation. Go on, I’ll wait

“Barbara being able to walk again isn’t disability erasure, there’s other paralyzed characters”

The definition of disability erasure is literally terminating someone’s disability under the belief it makes a person less than. The fuck you mean it’s not?

And how many paralyzed comic characters can you name? I’m willing to bet it doesn’t come to 50. Every character belonging to an underrepresented group matters. Whether their representation is taken away completely with that one character’s erasure or not isn’t the fucking point. You’re still fueling the already negative stigma around disabilities and sweeping disabled people further under the rug

“Her disability erasure doesn’t matter, DC will just paralyze her again in later issues”

I’m sorry, are you completely paralyzed from the waist down? Do you embody each and every paralyzed person and their experiences? No? What makes you think that you get to determine whether the erasure of something you don’t even have matters?

As for DC re-paralyzing Barbara, it’s been retconned since 2011. Even if they do plan on undoing whatever whack job microchip magic they’ve got going, they sure as hell are taking their sweet-ass time

I can’t believe people were actually arguing in favor of Barbara’s disability erasure, but here we are. Representation has always mattered and always will, and yet media loves grossly misrepresenting everything. Barbara was such a strong character as Batgirl, and flourished in her character development even more as Oracle. Her struggles, overcoming them, and learning to love herself and value her abilities beyond the mantle made her a well-loved inspiration for many. To have all of that stripped away and undone with a microchip was just as insulting as it was a destroyed opportunity for character growth

And unfortunately that’s not the first conversation I’ve had regarding the representation of characters

Oh, you thought I was done? Ha! I wish. How about Spiderverse?

“Oh but Sun-Spider can’t be a superhero, she’s wheelchair-bound!”

Professor X. The Chief. Oracle.

And just to cover all my bases: Bucky Barnes, Daredevil, Hawkeye, Doctor Mid-Nite, Hornet, Jericho, Cyborg. And that’s not even going into characters with much more hidden disabilities. Disabilities never stopped anyone from being able to achieve anything, nor should it ever

“Fat spider-people? Really? That’s just unrealistic”

Yes, really. What’s the problem with that? Surely it’s not the webbing, which have been proven to be durable enough to support buildings. No way it’s how they’re shaped when there’s a car, a horse, and a whole ass T-Rex spider variant

Some people really forgot the whole concept behind the first Spiderverse movie. How Stan Lee made it clear that “anyone can wear the mask.” It doesn’t matter your body type, whatever disorders or disabilities you have, your ethnicity or your upbringing. Being a hero is so much more than that, and the diversity of each spider-variant only reinforces how Spider-Man represents everyone

But let’s go even further with voice acting

“So what if Sunspot is being voiced by a white person instead of an Afro-Brazilian voice actor? It’s animated”

Oh wow I wasn’t aware that representation stops at the sound machine. Yes, Sunspot’s newest voice actor is Brazilian, but with a character whose ethnicity plays an integral part in his story, you’d think Marvel would figure casting an Afro-Brazilian VA would be more authentic for the role than the fourth white dude in a row, but no. Of course not

And with each VA they cast, Marvel pushes Afro-Brazilian VAs out of this role they’d intimately understand and be passionate in representing. VAs that Sunspot fans would love to see knowing that their favorite character (or even themselves) would be understood, rather than being hollowly voiced with characteristics that don’t match the person

“If Sunspot should be voiced by an Afro-Brazilian voice actor does that mean Magneto should be voiced by exclusively German Jewish voice actors? It’s not a monolith”

And neither are Brazilians. Hell, neither is any religion or race. That’s why we want an Afro-Brazilian VA. There’s so many nuances that can only be breathed into the character by someone who understands because they themselves have lived that life. It may be small but those nuances are what make the character feel alive to their audience, and the closer a VA is to the experiences of their character, the more genuine the character feels

Portraying animated characters doesn’t fall completely on the writers and artists. Artists may take control visually, and writers may be responsible for plot and voice lines, but it’s the VAs that are in the spotlight. VAs are the ones that gives these characters character. And those characters can’t be fully and properly represented for viewers if it’s not all there

Representation always matters. Its significance doesn’t go away with erasure, and it definitely isn’t less important because other people who aren’t among that marginalized group refuse understand. Disabilities don’t define who someone can be, nor does body type, or culture, or religion or any other background. It doesn’t stop at the sound machine. Anyone who says otherwise are just adding to the ignorance most media uses to excuse the already shit representation of the entertainment industry

Every marginalized group is valid. Every minority deserves to be portrayed as they are and not feel like they’re being fetishized, infantilized, or inaccurately represented for the sake of plot

Little me, the queer adopted Asian kid with raging ADHD, severe anxiety, and shit communication skills deserved more than the fetishization from anime characters and shouldn’t have needed to wait until they discovered Cassandra Cain, the first character to show that superheroes could look like them too

And people that never struggled to find themselves represented in media sure as hell don’t have an excuse to encourage lacking representation and feign ignorance when common decency and basic human empathy is free

[itsthedoodle]

This Love Is Alive Back From The Dead

Summary: The last time Feyre and Rhys saw each other was senior year when she abruptly decided to end things between them. Ten years later, they meet again at their high school reunion.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: none

@officialfeysandweek2023

Read on AO3

Day 1: Night Triumphant & Stars Eternal

Here's my first humble offering for Feysand Week 🩵

Chapter 1

She was not supposed to be this nervous. 

Feyre liked to think of herself as someone who looked at life in a very pragmatic way. Growing up, she had never had time to daydream—her mother had died when she was barely eight. Her father had tried, for a while at least, to take care of her and her two sisters, and then he had gotten sick. Her sisters hadn’t known the first thing about taking care of others and as if that wasn’t enough, her mother had seen it fit to make young Feyre promise on her deathbed that she would take care of her family. So, the moment Feyre had turned fourteen, she had started working. 

For the past fourteen years, she had somehow managed to keep her jobs, provide for her family, get an education and have a social life. All these things combined had made it possible for her to function well on little sleep and keep a cool head at all times. 

Except for today. Today was not a regular day. And she was fucking nervous. 

The reason behind her not-yet-but-quite-possibly-soon meltdown sat neatly on her dresser in the form of an innocent-looking envelope. Somewhere in all her occasional self-loathing (which she was aware of, but wasn’t quite ready to address the root cause of), a whole decade had passed since her high school prom, and someone had had the glorious idea to relive that particular evening for their ten year high school reunion. 

Reliving prom was the last thing Feyre wanted to do but she’d be damned if she let people think she was a coward after all these years. Hair falling down her back in loose curls, her makeup a little more intense than how she usually wore it, she looked at her reflection and tried to convince the person staring back at her that she was fine, that everything was going to be fine. 

Her phone pinged at the incoming message and she looked down to find a single line from her best friend Lucien:

“I’m here.”

She typed out a quick response and looked at herself one last time. 

Her favorite thing about tonight was her dress, and the fact it was a dress made by her best friend only made it more special. It was a tight-fitting, sleeveless gown of a gray so light it almost looked translucent. Woven all over the fabric were tiny gems, so small one would have barely noticed them if it wasn’t for the way they sparkled. The front was modest and it gave the impression of a turtleneck, but the back was a cut so low she was surprised her ass wasn’t showing. The gown fell and pooled at her feet, a slit on the left side rising to her upper thigh. 

Grabbing her purse and keys, she headed out the door and spotted Lucien’s car parked on the driveway. 

Lucien whistled. “I know I said you were my muse when I designed this but wow, seeing it on you is something else.”

“This might be the best work you’ve ever done,” she answered truthfully. “Vassa told me you kept calling it ‘The Feyre Dress’.”

Lucien smiled and glanced back at the traffic. “How are you feeling?”

Feyre tipped her head this way and that. “I shouldn’t be so nervous and yet I am.” She bit her lip then mentally chastised herself, remembering her makeup. “Will he be there?”

Lucien nodded. “Mor was the one who organized the reunion. As her cousin, he was the first one to confirm.”

“Of course. Those two were always more like siblings than cousins.”

Lucien parked the car in front of their old high school and turned to face her. “Are you ready?”

She wasn’t. Not even a little bit. She was going to be sick, or faint, or both, and she hated that a decade later, she was dealing with the same feelings. But she nodded, fully aware her best friend did not believe a single lie coming out of her mouth. 

They headed down the small path taking them to the school’s gym entrance. “Do you wanna go through the school hallways too?” she asked. “For nostalgia’s sake?”

Lucien looked at her pointedly. “You’re stalling, you do not feel nostalgic. We are going to go straight to the gym entrance and rip off this bandaid.”

She grumbled but followed him nonetheless, fully out of choices. 

Mor had replicated prom night exactly. The decorations were the same, the music was the same, the table settings and placements were the same. The only thing that hinted that time had passed was the amount of new faces (who she assumed were partners), and the fashion choices. She looked around, trying to spot anyone she’d been friendly with ten years ago.

“I’ll go get us drinks, yeah?” Lucien said. 

She turned to look at him. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to babysit me. Go have fun, I’ll be fine.”

He seemed to chew on that for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “Come get me if you need anything, even if it’s sitting in silence.”

Feyre nodded, smiling at her friend. Her friend who had stood by her for years, who had called her out on her bullshit every single time, who had seen right through her when she tried to distance herself from everyone, him included.

Lucien’s background couldn’t have been more different than hers. Born Lucien Vanserra, the youngest of seven sons, he had spent his childhood with a father that he had eventually found out wasn’t his father at all. Instead, he was the result of an affair his mother had had with Helion Spellcleaver, CEO of Day Corp. She had eventually left her husband Beron and went back to Helion, who she had spent years secretly in love with, taking her sons with her. Helion was everything Beron Vanserra had never been, and had claimed Lucien as his own, proudly presenting him to everyone as his son. 

That first year after high school had hit Feyre hard and had it not been for Lucien, she didn’t know if she would have survived it. 

Lost in thought, she didn’t see someone approaching until she felt the touch on her arm. “Feyre, you came!”

She turned around to look at the source of the voice, putting a smile on her face. “Hello Mor, it’s good to see you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Mor had been one of her closest friends, before Feyre had iced her out like everyone else who hadn’t been part of her original friend circle. Mor had tried to break through to her, had told her she would be waiting for whenever Feyre was ready to talk, but Feyre had never taken her up on the offer and after several failed attempts, Mor had taken the hint and stopped reaching out. 

So here they were, ten years later, standing on foreign ground. She didn’t know how to talk to Mor without it being awkward, and could only hope Mor had forgiven her at some point in the past ten years.

Feyre couldn’t blame her if she hadn’t. Mor was his cousin, after all. If she had ended up taking sides, Feyre understood.

Mor seemed to hesitate for a split second before she surged forward and wrapped Feyre in a crushing hug. “I missed you,” she said, rubbing circles on her back. “You just… never reached out.”

Feyre returned the hug, glad her former friend had taken the first step. “I’m sorry, Mor. It wasn’t easy, with everything that went down. I didn’t want to force you to split your time between two people.” She pulled back and took the other woman in.

Mor was slightly taller than her, with blond hair spilling like gold down her back and brown eyes that always looked as if she saw beneath the surface. Born Morrigan Night, her biological parents had died when she was young, and she had been adopted by her uncle and his wife, who were one of the leading families of the city. Her family owned Night Corp. which, together with Day Corp. owned by Lucien’s father, were the two biggest players in the aviation field. 

Mor had been raised alongside her cousin and, being the same age, they had gone to school together as well.

“You never told me what happened, Feyre.” She was pulled out of her thoughts by Mor’s voice, looking both thoughtful and hurt. “You were my friend and you iced me and everyone else out. There were no sides to choose. Whether I’m related to you or not, you were both equally dear to me. I don’t automatically pick sides just because I'm related to someone.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Feyre could think to say, and she was. She knew that now. But who she was today was very different from who she had been at eighteen. “I had my reasons, and I can tell you what they were someday when we’re not in the middle of a party, but please believe that I’m truly sorry. Losing you as a friend was not something I wanted.”

Mor smiled slightly, tilting her head slightly to the side. “You never lost me. We just… fell out of touch. Had you called me, I would have come running, regardless of how many years had passed.” She then seemed to notice Feyre’s dress and took a step back in order to appreciate it fully. “Holy shit it’s gorgeous!”

Smiling, Feyre twirled to show her the full design. “Like it? It’s from Lucien!”

“One of a kind, if Lucien is to be believed. Inspired by the very person wearing it.” 

Feyre froze at the voice, taking small breaths, hoping no one could see the battle her heart and lungs were fighting—and losing.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “Rhys, must you always be so dramatic?” She then looked at Feyre and squeezed her hand gently. “I’ll go find Lucien. I need to inspire him to design a dress for me, too.”

Feyre nodded, taking a deep breath and turning around.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she felt. If she had once thought Rhys was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, that had only been amplified now. 

Rhys, born Rhysand Night, was Mor’s cousin. His family had adopted her when her parents had died, and the two of them had been raised together. His father, Robert Night, was the head of Night Industries, and someone Rhys had never been particularly close to. It wasn’t that his father had been cruel to him, he simply hadn’t been there, opting to work all the time and have little to no relationship with his children. 

Rhys and Feyre had started dating their junior year, after a very long push and pull that had driven everyone around them crazy. The best way to describe what loving him had felt like was going up a roller coaster, slowly unveiling the beautiful view, and then tumbling down so fast that your insides scrambled in the best way possible. Loving Rhys had felt like gasping for air after drowning, like her entire being began and ended with him. And Rhys had loved her in equal measure, if not more. She had seen it, felt it, and treasured it. 

And then you went and ruined it all, supplied her brain. She chose to ignore it. 

Realizing she had been lost in thought and staring at the man before her—because gone was the boy she had left at eighteen—she cleared her throat, forcing her voice to stay even.

So much for always keeping a cool head, she thought to herself.

“Hello Rhys.”

They stared at each other, each taking the other in. She was cataloging every visible change in him, just as she knew he was doing the same. The changes would have been subtle to someone who had seen him more often, but Feyre hadn’t seen him in a decade. She took notice of his broad shoulders and his still lean frame. His hair was cut short, and she wondered if it felt as soft as it used to. She took in his sharp jawline and his eyes, that shade of blue so deep it almost looked violet. She noticed the way his hands flexed as if he was itching to touch her. 

Night triumphant had been his nickname all throughout high school, a play on his last name and the way he went through life with unfaltering confidence. He seemed to have retained that confidence, but she could read his small tells, and she knew he was just as nervous as she was. 

She was not supposed to be this nervous. She thought she had gotten over this, though in her bones she knew she hadn’t gotten over him. 

“It’s good to see you,” she said, making her voice sound as even as possible, though she was sure he could tell she was nervous. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he said, and she could see his internal struggle at what to say, that unfaltering confidence gone. 

She shouldn’t have liked this as much as she did, but knowing he was as nervous as she was made her feel things she wasn’t yet ready to admit. 

“How’s it going?” Rhys asked.

How was it going though? She was trying to break the ice, the conversation painfully awkward for both of them. 

It’s your fault things are awkward. 

Feyre shoved that thought into a box within another box, and then shoved that box to the far reaches of her mind. Had she been sad and miserable ever since that day? Yes. Did she regret any of it? She couldn’t say she did. She had done it for him, had known he would sabotage his entire future for her if she hadn’t. 

Rhys’ future had been brighter than the sun. Despite acing his way through high school, being active in both sports and academic extracurriculars, loved by every teacher, and admired by almost every student, he had somehow still managed to stay grounded and had not let it go to his head. So it had come as no surprise when six Ivys had reached out to him, wanting to grab him as their student. 

Rhys hadn’t given which school he’d pick much thought, and when the time came, she had heard him telling Azriel & Cassian about how he was going to turn them all down in order to stay in town with her and go to community college. 

That had been unacceptable to her. She refused to be the reason Rhys tied himself down to this place when there were so many things he could do, could become. So she had concocted a plan and had found the worst possible moment to break his heart. 

“Feyre?”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Rhys looking at her questioningly. 

"Sorry." She gave him a small smile. “Just… lost for a moment. I’m good, how have you been?”

He didn’t need to know she had been a nervous wreck and had barely slept the night before. 

“All good. It’s weird being back here.” He looked around and she wondered if he was thinking about their prom. 

She had been cruel that day. She was surprised he still wanted to talk to her. 

A month before prom, Feyre had dragged Rhys to this very gym and told him she couldn’t be with him anymore. Needless to say, Rhys was confused. They’d been good for each other, their relationship solid. There had been absolutely no reason or need for a breakup. 

So, Feyre made one up. She told him she didn’t see them surviving high school, and that it was better to rip the bandaid off while they could. 

It had been a lie, all of it. Feyre could picture the rest of her life with him, had dreamed about it so often she had lost count. 

She had left Rhys standing there, confused and hurt, and went to prom without a date. To drive the final nail in the coffin, when she had seen Rhys making his way to her at the dance, she had grabbed her ex boyfriend, whom Rhys couldn’t stand, and kissed him. 

The look on his face still haunted her. Rhys hadn’t tried to contact her again after that night, and Feyre had spent the remainder of their senior year acting as if she hadn’t broken both their hearts.

The thought still made her nauseous. 

“Are you here alone?” She mentally kicked herself the moment it slipped past her lips. Why would you ask him that?

He looked at her like he could see right through her question. “No.”

She froze. “Oh.”

“I’m here with the others. Cass and Az should be around here somewhere. I came with Mor, though.”

She blinked, realizing he was teasing her. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “I’m sorry but why are you being so friendly to me? We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

Rhys cocked his head to one side. “We’re adults. I thought we could both put the past behind us, especially one with a plan as well thought out as yours.”

Feyre froze, but masked it quickly with feigned confusion. “What do you mean?”

She could see the beginnings of a smirk on his face, and she didn’t know if she wanted to weep or laugh at the sight of it. 

“That little plan of yours back when we were eighteen. Break up with me, and have me catch you kissing Tamlin.”

Feyre felt her face drain of color. “Rhys, I-”

“To be fair, I’m still mad at you. Livid doesn’t even begin to describe it. But I’m trying to think rationally here and give you the benefit of the doubt. So, Feyre. We need to talk.”

[mrsnancywheeler]

i was thinking abt that one scene in priscilla where elvis tells that girl that he likes the perfume she’s wearing and then she says it’s Chanel no 5 (literally the same perfume cilla uses)

and like i was thinking, this scenario but with billy and “his” girl. like he could be talking to some random girl and then like be all flirty n shit and then he’s like omg that perfume is so nice (or something) and then the girl is like all smiles and giggles and happily tells him the name and the brand of the perfume and then once billy hears the name he recognizes it from seeing it in reader’s like bedroom or purse or something!

-🩰

imagining like this during one of those periods when they've had another blow up fight so you've gone back home, he's been able to push the need of having you around for a while with the writing, rehearsing, recording, the drinking, the drugs, the other girls, so the piece of him you were filling he's able to push away for a while. that's until he's flirting with one of the groupies and he likes that she smells familiar, he doesn't know why or how, but it feels comforting.

he's so close to her face, so close to kissing her and he's keeping that cocky smirk on his face, "nice perfume you got there." maybe if he has her it'll fill the void he's ignoring, the void of you.

she's smiling up at him, flashing a grin, "it's sweet honesty from avon." and boom, billy knows why it's so comforting. you refused to use anything else, you always had a bottle in your purse and one in the bedroom just in case. he misses being engulfed by it, misses you, the longing takes over. he needs you to come back, he can't function fully without your presence. he misses your laugh, messing around on the guitar while you smoked a cigarette on the floor, how animated you were when you talked, cuddling you in his bed, when you'd convince him to go swimming, he misses all of it. he's headed towards the nearest phone, trying to call you and you don't pick up. you always pick up. you're reliable, you're always at the phone when he calls, and now he's scared because maybe he's finally done it. he's told you how replaceable you were one too many times and you'd accepted it even though he was sure you weren't. you were like all the best and worst parts of him, he was attached to you and unbelievable amount.

so he's driving over to your house (more accurately the place your dad pays for) knocking on your front door and a friend of yours opens the door. she's rolling her eyes, sighing, yelling back at you, "he's here!" and he can't deny the way his heart skips a beat when you run up the door.

you've got a small spark of hope in your eyes, "billy!" before realizing you're not supposed to. even if you'd been eaten up inside because this call had taken longer then usual to happen.

"hi, baby." his face has the whisper of a smile on it, "I called."

then you're looking regretfully at the floor, that was the point, if he called you weren't supposed to answer. you were supposed to take care of yourself, but what could you do when he was driving all the way out here just to see you? it made you remember the best of times, made you immediately want to hop back into his car. he can see it on your face, that you'd done so on purpose. "billy..." you trail off and the suddenly you're crying. and he feels terrible.

"hey, come here." billy's playing with your hair, comforting arm around you. "let me take you out, baby. we can go to our place, get some burgers by the pier. need to spend some time with my favorite girl."

favorite, the word favorite rather than him saying 'his' girl irks you, maybe it shouldn't, but you don't want to fight again so you ignore it for now. "yeah, I'd like that." you're meeker after fights, softer when it's time to fix things. now you're playing with the buttons on his denim shirt, which he loves. "can I come back 'round?" you're not looking at him and he's smiling because he knows not to be worried this time, he's won her another highest of the highs with you.

"of course, baby. need my muse around." he's kissing you and you're back to being all smiley. you run inside to grab stuff and as he's standing on the doorstep he can hear your friend berating you for going back, but you don't have a care in the world. you've grown to need billy and you're feeling that lovely high that reminds you why again. before you're out the door back to him again. his arm around your waist as he pulls you with him, "you know, baby, that perfume smells real good on you."

you're smile is so bright, "really?" he's nodding and lighting you a cigarette as you climb into his car, driving off into a repeat of the cycle.

[myboipracticallyimagines]

Rescue Pt. 2 - Six x Reader

Part 1

Prompt: After Six saves you from Lloyd, he's charged with an even greater task - keeping you safe. (A/N: Reader is definitely an adult in this story, just fyi)

Once the lights of the city faded behind you, you allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears ran down your cheeks as you mourned the man that was in every way that mattered - your father. If Six had noticed your tears he was kind enough to give you privacy. His eyes remained locked on the horizon, one hand gripped tightly on the wheel and the other sitting comfortably above his gun.

"Where are we going?" Claire asked, her voice barely carrying over the crashing of the water. "Somewhere safe," Six responded. "This is my stop," the woman in the back spoke. Six obliged her command, pulling the boat as close to the surface as he dared before the woman jumped over, quickly emerging and swimming to shore. "Who was that?" you finally asked. "A friend of mine. Her name is Dani. She was the one who shot Lloyd." Your heart fluttered at the mention of his name, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I should have thanked her." "We'll see her again. For now the only person I trust both of you with is myself."

You were only on the boat a little longer after dropping of Dani. You quickly transferred into a car, where Six drove into the morning. The sun sat high in the sky by the time you made it to your final destination - a manor in the hills. "What is this?" you asked, looking over the pristine exterior of the house. "It's yours. Donald left it for both you - completely off the books." "So no one knows we'll be here?" Claire asks. Six smiled down at her. "Not a soul."

Taking no chances, Six cleared the house before you entered. Upon his word, he showed you around the house. It was huge, with more than enough room for each of you. "Your uncle wanted you to be comfortable here. He hoped to move you here once everything calmed down," Six's voice caught, which he tried to cover with a clear of his throat. "Your bedrooms are down the hall."

It was clear that Fitz had been working on this safehouse for a while. Our rooms were almost exact copies of our original bedrooms, down to the bedding. He even took the liberty to stock the drawers with a few sets of clothes. It broke your heart that he even considered a possibility of you moving here with nothing but the clothes on your back. Still, you were grateful for the soft pajamas in the top drawer.

A soft knock on your drawer drew you back to reality. "Go ahead and clean up. I'm going to make sure all the security systems are fully functioning. I'll be right in the kitchen if you need me." "Thank you," you breathed.

The warm water of the shower shocked your cuts and burns, eliciting a small yelp. Typically, long showers were your favorite way to unwind. Today, however, you washed off quickly, taking extra care to clean your wounds. Each sting of the water brought memories of Lloyd - his dark eyes burnt into your memory.

You dressed quickly before going to the kitchen. Six sat at the table, reviewing the video from dozens of cameras surrounding the property. He sensed your presence immediately, giving you his full attention. Six quickly closed the distance between you, examining your face. "Does it still hurt?" he asked gently. "Just the burn," you admitted. "I figured," he spoke quietly, his fingers still lingering. "Let's get you fixed up." His hand settled on your back as he led you towards a bedroom you hadn't been in before.

"This is my room," he said, sensing your curiosity. "I don't know what I did to deserve Donald, but it definitely wasn't enough." "He trusted you more than anyone on this planet," you said as you sat on the plush bed. "He really cared about you, Six. We all do." Your voice wavered with the last three words, avoiding his eyes.

Six didn't respond, instead turning his full attention to your burn. He rubbed a cooling salve onto it, taking care not to press too hard. Still, his touch alone brought tears to your eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "It's not your fault," you assured him. "It is. I never should have left." "Six, I-" you started, but he cut you off. "Court. My name is Court."

You finally met the man's eyes, red and puffy. "I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to be a number they assigned me. I'm not just a pawn anymore." You stood, still not as tall as the man standing before you. Instinct took over, and you wrapped your arms tightly around his strong frame. "You were never just a number, Court." It took him a moment, but he finally embraced back, his body fully encapsulating yours. When he pulled away, he cupped the uninjured side of your face, thumb gently caressing your cheek. "On my life, I will never let anyone hurt you again." "I know you won't. Our lives are in your hands, Court. And there is no place they'd be safer." He smiled gently. "Get some sleep."

Nightmares drew you from your rest, each one a new torture Lloyd was able to inflict on you. The last was particularly gruesome, with Lloyd making you watch as he slowly killed Court. You screamed for him to stop, to hurt you instead, but Lloyd only laughed before returning to his sick torture.

Suddenly, you shot up, awake. You drew in a sharp gasp, realizing that you were safe at home. Court sat before you, scanning you for injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly. "I heard you scream." You clutched onto him tightly, nodding your head. "Nightmare," you choked out.

Court's body relaxed, releasing a long breath. "Sorry. I thought something happened to you." You laughed slightly. "Only in my dreams." "Well, I'll let you get back to sleep," he said, standing. You quickly grabbed his arm. "Stay with me," you begged. He hesitated. "You need rest, too. Claire is just next door and we will all be much safer if you're well-rested." Court sighed deeply. "Okay."

He kicked off his shoes and removed his suit jacket before climbing into your bed. You must have gotten a few hours of rest as the sun had darkened and he had had time to clean up. His blue eyes stared deeply into yours as he lay across from you. Even as he rested, he looked tense. "Court?" you asked. He hummed in response. "I want you to know that Claire isn't the only family I have left. Not as long as I have you." "I'm not going anywhere," he assured you. "In the time I've stayed with you, I've grown fond of your family." He paused. "Especially you." Your heart fluttered, though this time not from fear. "I'm fond of you, too. Court, I," you paused, your cheeks flushing. "Go on," he urges, gently raising your chin to meet him in the eyes again. "I love you." Court takes a shaky breath in. "It's been a while since someone said those words to me." "I mean them, with every bit of myself." "I love you," he whispered back. Then a bit stronger, "I love you."

This time, you closed the space, pressing your lips gently onto his. He held you flush to him, his grip tighter than you had ever felt it before. Electricity pulsed through your veins, every part of you wanting to be connected to him. Court's touch was rougher than before, each passing second bliss within his hands.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, but his hand caught yours first. "Not tonight," he said breathlessly. You blushed fiercely, but he drew your eyes to his again. "Not because I don't want to, but because you need rest." You nodded, relaxing into his strong frame. As he held you close, you finally drifted off into sleep. This time, no nightmares interrupted.

[rohirric-hunter]

So yesterday I saw an article about how some startup is trying to get people to be able to work in their sleep. Naturally I rolled my eyes, offered up a quick prayer that all such ideas die horrible deaths as they rightly deserve, and then moved on with my day.

Last night, I dreamed I found a console that allowed me to control the whole universe. The first and only action I took on this console was (obviously) to input a command that caused all the atoms in the universe to very slowly get further and further away from each other. I had absolutely no concept of any potential consequences to this action, such as, perhaps, all the atoms in the universe very slowly getting further and further away from each other. Why would that happen? Pure speculation, don't be absurd. It occurred to me that this might be happening and also a bad thing about three hours later (in dream time), when I started to get a headache.

Instead of returning to the console to fix this (which was still there and fully functional), I instead went to Some Asshole who was throwing an offensively ostentatious dinner party, which I refused to crash and instead attended for another 3 hours or so, all the while letting my headache get worse and worse and all the atoms in the universe get further and further away from each other. This was happening faster for some things than others. Cars were falling to pieces in the parking lot outside and part of the roof caved in during the party. (Everyone was like, "WOW, that happened," and then carried on as if it hadn't.) Anyway, after the party, Some Asshole told me that of course he knew how to fix the issue where all the atoms in the universe were slowly getting further and further away from each other -- all we had to do was kill Bargain Bin Ganon. (This new character didn't have a name and didn't actually do anything for the entire dream but he kind of looked like Ganon.)

There were about thirteen people nearby who were willing and able to help me with this task, he said, but I could have a strike team of exactly two of them, because he didn't much care for the rest. At this point Dream Me, having recovered at least some of her senses, went to one of these other thirteen people and asked her to help anyway, because clearly we should be throwing as many people at solving this problem as possible. (The other ten people did not appear in the dream and were only mentioned again to establish that they were very busy and in Mirkwood.) The one person that I went to was very happy to help but unfortunately it was too late for her because all her atoms suddenly came too far apart and she died of that without even getting in sight of Bargain Bin Ganon. Me and the other two people went to fight him and eventually took him down, but it turned out killing him didn't solve the problem at all and it got solved by one of my teammates off-screen when he found the console and entered a command to make all the atoms in the universe stop getting farther away from each other.

To be very clear, this was not a weird dream for me. This is the kind of thing I dream about every night, basically. It's almost boring and only remarkable in this one instance in that I woke up this morning thinking, "They want us to work in our sleep? While our brains are doing that kind of nonsense? Are they insane?"

[separatist-apologist]

Ugh, I don’t wanna go to bed at a reasonable hour and be an actual functioning human being again tomorrow.

Will you tell me a bedtime story to help me fall asleep?

How about a little Montana!Cassian under the cut?

Nesta was in hell. 

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large brown horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny black sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six. 

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five nine without heels but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty. 

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle. 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle. 

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown. 

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help��but that’s just me,” he replied. 

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.” She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town. “And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them. 

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb. 

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care. 

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her? 

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego. 

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t. 

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.” Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a ruler follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.” A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope. 

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

[arrthurpendragon]

Life Rant-ish

I had hoped that by now, I’d be in a better place and writing much more. But things only seem to be dragging on. The depression has come back - I mean, I know it never fully goes away, but like I said on here - last week, I finally realized it. Brushing one’s hair once in two months should be an obvious outward sign. Not showering for two weeks should be another. But apprently not, at least so it seems to my school.

My principal doesn’t “believe” I’m burned out. I’m guessing he thinks it’s all in my head - or I’m making myself burned out. (Like he thought I did with COVID - how the hell does one mentally give oneself COVID?) He’s pissed I didn’t get a newsletter out every week. First, I couldn’t even brush my hair or teeth for like a month - you really think I’d be able to get a newsletter out? Second, this was something completely new to us as a school. Compared to the year before when I didn’t do it at all, a newsletter every three weeks was better than nothing. Again, I know I didn’t do as expected (or apparently agreed upon - according to principal, but I never “agreed” I was told. There’s a difference)

3/5 of my teaching standards for review were given the lowest rating . . . because of my church attendance. Yes, once I moved I had a harder time getting to church - but that’s also when my depression started getting bad. My principal was told by my counselor - which I was made to go to by him - that I should be “allowed” to attend another church (same denomination) for my mental health.  I was told in my review that “they need a teacher who can be at there church” That being said, I ended up going more like once a month the last 4 months of the school year and the weeks i didn’t, I watched online. But then because I didn’t take communion, it all but “cemented” my low score.

I told my principal that I had been getting panic attacks going to that church. His only respone was “I didn’t know that” But I reluctantly went on Sunday. I stayed in my car for 20 minutes doing a zen color by number and then went in to sit in the basement. And then there was communion. So, I went up. The pastor hugged me during communion. And then after the service, he waits for me, gives me another hug and then tells me that I’m wanted there.

Then comes the emotional whiplash.

A few hours later, a school board memeber emails me and tells me that they need to meet with me due to “parental concerns” (never been told about any before) “council memeber interactions” (literally no idea what this is) and “my end of the year review” (which considering I was in a trauma response the entire time because my principal told me one minute before the review that the pastor would be sitting in on it - when he had been told one month prior that I don’t do well with those things due to my trauma response - HE KNEW) and they pigeon-holed me into certain days.

Thankfully I talked to my counselor - she told me to tell them that for medical reasons, I can’t meet those days. Which is true - but due to mental health reasons. She also said that I should bring someone with me to this meeting. I told them dates I’d be available with another person - but they still haven’t gotten back to me. 

 . . . but I’m anxious that they’ll just randomly show up at my house. Because that’s what my principal has done in the past. Because I didn’t answer my phone  . . . because it was dead. He dragged another teacher to show up at my house to “check” on me.

Like don’t get me wrong, this year was crap. But the way they are going about it, isn’t helpful. Clearly they haven’t taken the time to get to know me.

When I was debating this job, I was told so much of how this place is like a “family” My mistake for thinking it would be a good family, not a crappy one.

I even told my counselor that i feel like the “appendix” of this body. (For those who aren’t Christian, the church is often related to a body that functions together) The appendix - ignored when it’s “doing directly as told” and threatened to be cut off when it doesn’t do exactly what they want.

So, I’m back to counseling every week, instead of every 4-6 weeks. And my counselor has recommended me for IOP (intensive outpatient program) to work on DBT skills.

I’ve been trying to work on getting a public school job, but it’s the kids that keep me second guessing. I have one student I’ve even been tutoring this summer. I know he needs me and it breaks my heart. But at the same time, I can’t pour from an empty glass.

. . . oh, and since it’s we get paid 12 months of the year, we’re supposed to be at school 12 months of the year. And we’re supposed to sign in and out and write what we did.

I’m sure there’s more drama/crap I’m forgetting. But this is what I’ve been dealing with for the past few weeks. This is why I’ve been overly-stressed. This is why I haven’t been as active as I’d like.

To those who have reached out so far - thank you. 

To those who have left me encouraging messages or compliments or reviews - thank you.

Y’all mean the world to me. Truly, I feel that y’all are more of a family to me than my family or this supposed “church family.”

Although, there’s one thing I’ve come to learn from all of this. I don’t beleive in organized religion anymore. The group I’ve associated with because it’s what I was raised in has a lot of cultish tendancies (like having no say because I’m a woman without a husband? Yep) But I do cling to my faith. It’s such an odd thing. But a big reason for my faith is because I want to see my mother again (she died when i was 9, for those unfamiliar) So, religion crisis, but not faith crisis? Does that even make sense?

On top of this all, the iRS messed up my taxes from last year. I made a quarterly payment before April and they applied it to the year before’s taxes, so I got it back in a refund (didn’t realize that) so I owed money when i thought I was getting a refund. Joy.

But this too shall pass. I know that things will get better somehow. No idea how, but things will get better. I did sell the lawnmower that came with the house - so I made a bit of money. And my kitties DEMAND snuggles with me. Marsali keeps me laughing because she’s a crazy puppy. I’ve fallen in love with reading again - that’s what I’ve been doing for anxiety relief - reading. Read the Bridgerton Rokesby prequels (well the first three) If you like Bridgerton - I’d highly suggest giving them a read. 

tldr: life sucks right now, but I’ll get through it. I always do. It’s just not fun.

[punkymonkeehat]

Another little segment/idea/goofy scene! I will try and get a short story out! I want to write these as an anthology together, so each "chapter" is a new creature or entity as they try to figure out the spike of anomalies. Plus, more lore added to why there's more entities! Anyway, I know these are short and really goofy. Please enjoy!!

------☆☆☆----------------------------------☆☆☆-------

"It's a creature that lurks in the shadows of the trees, darting whenever you turn to look..." the old man garbled. He wiggled his fingertips as he spoke, evoking a spooky ambiance to his tale. "The only evidence they've found of this creature are large footprints in the mud, too large for any human man to make!" There was a brief pause. The three teens stared at the old man, who took a tentative sip of his too-hot-cocoa, grinning with an eyebrow raised. They all look at each other, then back. In unison, they said, "You mean Bigfoot?"

The man slammed his mug down, the streaming liquid sloshing about inside at the force and stood up, pointing a long bony finger at them.

"NOT Bigfoot he's a myth! This is a humanoid creature, one that has not been seen for more than a glimpse, and has large back legs. Some say that it's hairy all over, like an ape!" Another pause.

"So Bigfoot..." the three said together again. The old man squished his face in frustration, yelling to himself incoherently in frustration.

"Everything's Bigfoot! It's always Bigfoot! Why is it always HIM!?" He stomped off, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, towards the door.

"That guy's nutso..." Tuck muttered widening his eyes at the other two.

"What was your first guess, the undying hatred for Bigfoot, or the fact that he drinks hot cocoa like he's a drunk?" Sam snidely asked.

"Both, plus the fact that he's not wearing any shoes..." Danny said, scrunching up his nose. "That guy smells in more way than one." Sam sighed and leaned back, placing her hands behind her head, and smiled.

"Don't you just love locals..." She murdered.

"There has to be some truth in what he's saying. The Fenton Finder said there was an anomaly here, somewhere. I'm not sure if it's a creature or a ghost or just something silly like a floating car." Danny pulled out the machine and placed it on the table. After glancing around to make sure people weren't eavesdropping, he continued. "See that blip? It means it's pretty close. My ghost sense isn't going off at all, and I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"If it's a floating car, I'd argue that's a good thing." Tucker chimed in. After a turned eyebrow from his friends, he shrugged. "Well, I'd prefer that over a ghost or some ravenous creature trying to eat us."

"Fair point..." Danny turned a few knobs on the Fenton Finder. "The blip hasn't moved from wherever it's at, so it may be possible that it's nocturnal and just asleep or dormant. Sam, do you know of any other local legends in the area?" Sam furrowed her brows in thought, tapping a black, coffin shaped nail tip against her purple lips.

"Hmmm, well... there's the legend of the cemetery ghost, the church ghost who haunts one of the 50 here in town, I'm not sure which one... there's not as many legends out here. Mostly just general hauntings, and even those are far and few between. The last sighting of the cemetery ghost was back in 1987, and the church ghost was in 2004. Nothing has become of either since then, honestly." Danny frowned and then hummed.

"I wonder what it could be, maybe a new entity?"

"To make a blip that size, though, would mean it would be pretty obvious. People would have seen it and it wouldve gotten reported to someone. That much ectoenergy would turn your hair on end if it was fully functioning. So either it's an old entity that's been on our plane of existence since forever, or it's still a dormant new entity waiting to be awakened." Tucker grabbed the Fenton Finder to look himself. "The blip size is how much ectoenergy there is in each entity, and the fact that this town has seemed peaceful even with this giant thing lurking around means it has to be a creature or ghost that's been around long before the portal was destroyed." Sam slapped her hand down, jolting Tucker and Danny from their thinking and causing some locals to turn their heads for a moment.

"There's a roaming cryptid around these states! That means that while it may not be a local legend, it could be a large ectoenergetic creature!" Danny and Tucker looked at each other and grinned.

"Well? What is it?" Danny asked, buzzing with excitement and leaning in.

"The Skunk Ape!" Sam said, crossing her arms and smiling ear to ear. There was a pause as the two boys looked at each other. Tucker turned toward Sam and asked,

"You mean stinky Bigfoot?"