#rice krispies fic

[total-drama-brainrot]

uh. something something, dog imagery?

i don't know, i haven't slept in, like, 36 hours. cut me some slack.

[r4bidcherry]

@total-drama-brainrot rice krispies fic fanart waow

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

The Hand That Feeds

Pairing: Ettore (High Life) x f!reader (physical attributes such as large breasts and alternative appearance described) Warnings: DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT. Mentions of child neglect, prostitution, substance abuse, death, murder. Dark and obsessive behaviour, attempted sexual assault, sub/dom dynamics, male masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3.7k

Summary: Ettore is used to having to take women by force - it's how he ended up on death row, and now a suicide mission in outer space. However, when a fellow crew member catches his eye and becomes the object of his twisted fantasies, he soon learns that the touch of a woman feels more satisfying when he's made to work for it. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @orcaunionleader. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Ettore screws his eyes shut. Strapped into the seat of the spaceship as it hurtles upwards, plunged suddenly into darkness when the lights fail, he feels trapped. It must have been twenty years, at least, since he has felt so vulnerable.

His earliest memory is sobbing as he is shut in the cupboard, the pitch blackness terrifying and too much to bear, but the sight of what he sees when he bursts out is so much worse.

The man on top of his mother, the noises they’re making, he feels strange, a combination of wanting to watch but also a churning in his tummy that makes him feel unwell. He retreats back into the dark, closing the door and hugs his knees to his chest until it all goes quiet again. 

Ettore soon learns it is better to enter a room head first - if he is able to see exactly what is happening then he knows quickly whether it’s safe to come out, or whether he needs to retreat. Not placing his entire body in the way reduces the likelihood of being grabbed, hit, shouted at.

There’s a different man each time, and every time they leave there’s always money on the bedside table of the small studio flat, and his mother is asleep. It’s then that he crawls into bed beside her, cuddling into her warmth, tracing his fingers over the marks that litter her inner elbow creases.

He doesn’t recall his mother ever having hugged him, when she is still like this is the only time he is able to get close to her, and he wraps his arms around her until the rumbling in his stomach gets too much to bear. He is always hungry.

His bare feet crunch against spilled Rice Krispies on the dirty kitchenette floor. Sometimes there is bread to eat, if he picks around the mold, sometimes there isn’t. He sees through the window that there is a place across the road that his mother goes to every few days. She always comes back with glass bottles that clink against each other in the plastic bag, but sometimes there is bread, and less often there are Rice Krispies. He likes those, though he often spills them.

The hunger pangs in his stomach grow so bad he begins to cry. His mother no longer feels warm when he cuddles against her. He is not sure when she last woke up, why she won’t wake up now. Maybe she is just really tired.

He can see the place where she goes to get food from the window, it is not very far, perhaps she’ll wake up by the time he gets back, and so he wanders out of the flat, not closing the door behind him, and walks across the road.

Ettore’s eyes light up the moment he sees the familiar blue box of Rice Krispies, clutching it tightly in both hands. It’s only then that he looks up into the horrified face of the woman standing over him, unable to comprehend why she’s looking at him like that, as she takes in the sight of the malnourished, barefoot child before her, wearing only a t-shirt and a dirty nappy.

There are a flurry of adults around him after that, and he’s taken to live somewhere else. He never sees his mother again. He hears the phrase “non verbal” used a lot, and learns that someone of his age should be able to speak. He doesn’t know how to, and so slowly he is taught how to communicate with words.

Even when Ettore has mastered the power of speech, he prefers not to use it. He finds watching people is far better than talking to them. Most people tend to talk a lot even when they have nothing to say. He prefers the quiet.

There are lots of other children his age at the facility he’s placed in, but slowly they leave, one by one, when adults come to look around. He never leaves though, he supposes it has something to do with the way he has overheard the staff describe his eyes as “haunted” and how strange it is that he has no interest in playing. Grown ups don’t want to share their homes with children that aren’t happy. Ettore doesn’t feel he has much at all to be happy about, when he curls his lips into a smile it feels strange against his face.

As Ettore grows older, he learns of what actually happened to him. His mother had been a heroin addict, she had prostituted herself to fund her habit, and he had been a victim of her extreme neglect. She had died of an overdose and he had laid beside her body for days, until his own hunger had gotten the better of him and he’d wandered into the local corner shop in search of food. He feels nothing upon finding this out, if anything he yearns for the simpler time of huddling against the warmth of his mother as she’d slept off her fix. No one will touch him now, he craves physical contact but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

He’s placed into a foster home when he’s a teenager, though it is a placement that’s short lived. The woman has a daughter, she’s a similar age to Ettore and he longs for her touch. He knows all too well from the way that she squirms under the intensity of his gaze and leaves the room whenever they are alone together that the feeling is not reciprocated.

To Ettore it does not matter. He always waited until his mother was asleep before cuddling her, he reasons that he can simply do the same here. And he does just that; waiting until night falls and the house is quiet, he sneaks into her room, laying down upon the bed beside her.

He breathes in deeply, a delicate floral scent filling his nostrils as he runs the tip of his nose over the softness of her hair. His fingertips creep beneath her pyjama top, and he exhales a shaky breath at how silky smooth her skin feels to touch.

It’s then that she wakes up and lets out a loud scream, he topples from the bed, startled by her outburst and her mother rushes into the room. That is Ettore’s first and only foster care placement, another term is now used to describe him; “maladaptive”.

But he takes away a valuable lesson from the situation - if he wishes to touch a woman then he needs to ensure she stays asleep.

He watches couples with resentment, knowing that no woman will ever kiss or caress him with any semblance of love, not willingly anyway. Women don’t want men that are haunted and maladaptive, but that’s fine with Ettore. If it’s not freely given then he knows precisely how to take it.

Ettore preys upon those that are fumbling with their keys in the lock as they try to return home, women under the influence who spend just a little too long on their phones while trying to get a cab, and the ones that walk hurriedly towards their cars in empty, darkened parking garages.

He moves slowly, carefully, his body only moving in sync with where his head is looking once he’s certain of the target he’s selected. He is unhurried in his movements, and so he goes utterly undetected until it’s too late.

It starts as simply knocking them out and then using their bodies however he sees fit, but it  rapidly escalates when he accidentally kills one of them, it happens twice more before he’s finally apprehended.

He doesn’t try to fight it, pleads guilty in court and is sent to prison. Even with good behaviour, his sentence is such that he’ll be elderly before he’s ever free. But any opportunity for eventual freedom is snuffed out when he gets into a scuffle with another prisoner.

Threats of solitary confinement hang heavily over him as he’s dragged away, and something inside of him snaps. He won’t go back to being locked away in the dark, he can’t. So he lashes out, and as he’s stomping upon the guard’s head he is reminded of the crunching of Rice Krispies beneath his feet from when he was a child.

The death penalty doesn’t exist within the United Kingdom’s judicial system, but he knows he’s being served a death sentence when he is given the news that he has been assigned to board a spaceship with other prisoners on a mission to extract alternative energy from a black hole. There is no coming back from that, he’s not foolish enough to believe otherwise, yet he readily accepts it. There is no other alternative for him, truthfully, there never has been.

When the lights eventually flicker back on and they are alerted they can unfasten their seatbelts, Ettore finally opens his eyes, looking at the prisoners that are seated around him. He’s surprised and intrigued to find there are women as well as men on board. He hasn’t encountered a woman since being sent to prison.

The scrubs they are given to wear are baggy and conceal much of their bodies, so to his disappointment he is unable to admire the feminine curves of the women on board - except one. She is shorter than he is, the remnants of a long since faded colour adorns the ends of her hair. Both her arms are full sleeved with tattoos. He wants to tear away her uniform and see what other artwork decorates her flesh. If he were a normal person, he’d strike up a conversation and ask, but Ettore is not one for words, so he simply stares, watching her every movement as a silent storm builds inside of him.

Though she is slenderly built, he can clearly see the way the baggy top half of her clothing curves over the ample swell of her breasts. His eyes linger there whenever he passes her in the corridor, picturing what it would be like to run his hands over them and squeeze their softness.

It’s these thoughts that are the cause of his every visit to The Box, the ship’s masturbatory aid. It’s used gratuitously by all crew mates, as sexual conduct between prisoners is prohibited on board, so he spills over his knuckles every chance he gets, imagining it’s inside of her. Would she claw at his shoulders and slap at him to get away, or simply lay still and take it?

Occasionally he deposits a sample into a plastic cup, taken away by Dibs, a supposed doctor on board who seems to be the main authority figure. She never fully explains what is to be done with his specimens, but once he has taken the reward he’s provided afterwards - usually a sedative - he cannot find it in himself to care.

He has heard whispers that she is conducting fertility experiments on the ship, attempting to artificially inseminate the female inmates. If that’s the case, he is thankful that his involvement is far less invasive than theirs must be, but ultimately it’s not his problem. He keeps to himself, ever watchful of those around him.

At least there is structure and routine; he goes to sleep and wakes up at the same time each day, participates in mandatory exercise regimes, eats regular meals and is assigned maintenance work duty.

Getting to know his own schedule means becoming familiar with other people’s, and that includes her’s. There is a sense of both excitement and comfort in knowing exactly where she is and exactly what she’s doing at all times.

The first time he encounters her coming out of the Box, he’s struck by how beautiful she is, pupils dilated, skin glowing with a light sheen of perspiration, her lips slightly parted as she attempts to calm her breathing. The heady aroma of her arousal lingers faintly as he goes in after her and he has never come harder in his life than he does on that day. He makes a point to go in after her every day after that.

If she were any other woman and these were any other circumstances, he’d have forced himself upon her by now, but they are in a confined space together and there’s no way for him to act upon his urges without there being almost immediate consequences for it. Every day it feels as though a coil inside of him is wound tighter, and every day he is left wondering if that will be the day when it finally snaps and he brings everything crashing down for both of them.

Despite his internalised conflict, she seems utterly unperplexed by him, which is confusing for Ettore. He is used to women regarding him with unease and disgust, so for her to be completely unphased by his presence is disarming. She is a criminal too though, he reasons, and for her to have been served what is effectively a death sentence she must have done something terrible. The thought makes her all the more alluring to him.

He is on cleaning duty today, tasked with scrubbing down the shower tiles. He enters the showers slowly, deliberately, unable to hear water running, so assumes that there’s no one in there.

But then he spots her, her hair wet and sticking to her bare shoulders, the tops of her breasts just about visible. She hasn’t seen him, yet. His eyes roam slowly over the greyscale body art that adorns her arms and thighs, wondering if there's more hidden beneath the towel that clings to her svelte figure. 

Absent-mindedly his fingers move over the triangular motif that's tattooed on his right forearm; though the scar is no longer visible he still feels the indentations of teeth. If he closes his eyes he still remembers the way that girl had fought, biting into his flesh as he'd wrapped his arm around her throat. He can never recall their faces, but he remembers the marks they left upon him - each one now covered by the same tattoo - a target so that he never forgets - a slash of a broken bottle against his bicep, acrylic nails gouging into his neck. They're never quite strong enough, though they fight to the end. He wonders if her ink serves the purpose of covering or reminding, what sinister deeds have led her down a path of such finality. He intends to find out.

Her head snaps up to look at him and he sucks in a harsh breath as she makes eye contact with him. She doesn’t scream or shy away, simply returns his unblinking stare and his fingers flex at his sides, mouth running dry as he considers whether he’ll need to silence her or not.

“Like what you see?” She whispers, letting the towel fall slowly away.

Ettore remains unblinking, though he feels shaken to his core on the inside. He drinks in the sight of her bare flesh, her full rounded breasts, the dip of her waist, her curvaceous hips, feeling his cock twitch in his scrubs.

What the fuck is she playing at?

“Fuckin’ cock tease,” he spits out, before turning and walking away to the Box.

He reaches his peak embarrassingly quickly, brow furrowed and jaw slack as sweat rolls down his temples.

Once the feeling of euphoria has worn off it is replaced by anger and confusion. Had she been trying to get him into trouble? Did she actually want him? Was she making a mockery of him?

His mood darkens at the thought and as his mind races after lights out that night, unable to find sleep. He slips out of his bunk and walks slowly, silently, along the corridor towards her cell.

He can see the outline of her body beneath the covers, and is suddenly unsure of what he came here to do. Torn between wanting to lunge for her, grab her by the throat and make her pay for her earlier indiscretion, or simply slip beneath the covers beside her and allow his hands to roam freely, he stands and does nothing, watching her.

“Come inside, if you want,” she calls out quietly to him in the darkness, making him startle, “bunkmates are all sleeping.”

Ettore hesitates, remaining rooted to the spot, unable to believe that a woman is actually inviting him into her space, that she wants to be near him.

“You gonna pussy out again like you did earlier?” She questions playfully.

He feels embarrassment flush his cheeks and allows it to propel him forward, over the threshold, into her space. He won’t let a woman get the better of him.

She shuffles back against the wall, lifting the blanket and patting the space beside her.

He hasn’t laid beside a woman since the night he was kicked out of his foster placement for getting into bed with the host’s teenage daughter, the only other times before that were when he huddled beside his passed out mother.

Ettore swallows thickly, not wanting to show weakness and quickly slips in beside her.

She smells of the ship’s standard issue soap, yet somehow on her flesh it has an utterly different scent, it’s sweet and intoxicating and has him longing to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He inhales deeply, feeling himself grow hard from her proximity and the warmth of her soft skin against his bare torso.

Apparently she feels it too, as she eagerly snakes a hand between them, palming at him through his shorts. 

A woman has never touched him like that before, not willingly. Usually he’s the one in control. It feels too much, too fast, bile rises in his throat and he jerks away from her, stalking silently back to his own cell, shame blooming hot and heavy in his chest as he feels tears burn beneath his eyelids.

What the fuck was that?

For the first time in Ettore’s life a woman had wanted to touch him, and he’d freaked out and run away. Does she not realise what he could do to her, what he’s capable of? He is supposed to inspire fear, not lust.

He wants to storm back to her cell and smash her head against the wall. She’s made him feel weak, inferior, yet despite that he can’t shake the feeling of her hand between his legs.

Unable to help himself, he waits for her as she exits the Box the next day, the telltale signs of her having just climaxed etched all over her features as she steps out. Her expression hardens when she sees him, rolling her eyes and side stepping him, until he grabs her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.

“Let go of me, Ettore,” she says threateningly.

“How d’you know my name?” He asks, pulling her close so he can stare down into her eyes.

She smirks. “You’re not the only one that can skulk around the ship finding things out. Dibs left your file out the last time she had me up on the table, so I snooped. I know your name, your blood type, your sperm count–”

“Do you know what I’m serving time for?” He narrows his eyes as he asks this.

“No, I figure if we’re gonna explore whatever this is,” she gestures between them, “it’s better we don’t know that about each other.”

Ettore scoffs, quirking his lips as he eyes her carefully. “And what is this?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Clearly you’re not comfortable letting me touch you…yet. So how about you touch me instead?”

He keeps a neutral expression, despite the surprise he feels once again that a woman would willingly let him touch her. “How would that work?”

“You’re about to use the Box, right? Take me in. Touch me while you touch yourself.”

Her words send an aching pulse straight to his balls and he nods, walking into the Box, not checking to see if she’s following. He knows she will be.

“Take it off, take it all off,” he orders quietly, gesturing to her clothes.

She pulls off her top and slips off her bottoms and his gaze rakes appreciatively over her form, only this time his hand slides into his trousers as he does so, his hand wrapping around his steadily hardening length.

Her lips are parted, eyes wide as she stares up at him, her breathing almost matching the intensity of his. Tentatively he leans down, inhaling her scent. The sweetness fills his nostrils and something inside of him snaps.

Pulling his erection free, he moves his fist over it in quick, aggressive strokes, biting at her pulsepoint, before moving his lips downwards towards her tits, pressing his face into their soft warmth, mouthing at them without restraint.

True to her word, she doesn’t touch him, keeping her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, though he can tell she is desperate to reach for him, her breaths erratic as she arches into his touch.

His stomach muscles contract, pressure building at the base of his spine as droplets of pre-cum help to guide his rapid, successive jerks of his cock.

Reaching between her legs, he groans at feeling how wet she is, a combination of her previous orgasm and how aroused she is from what’s currently happening between them.

He buries his face in her chest, sinking two fingers inside of her. There is no scratching, no slapping, no disassociating. She is soft and pliant against him, willing, and as often as he has fantasised about taking her by force, this feels better than anything he has ever experienced previously, better than anything he could have imagined.

As the pressure reaches its apex and he finally climaxes with a groan and a shudder, releasing white hot ropes of his seed across her lower belly, she reaches up with shaky, tentative hands to gently run her fingers through his hair.

“Good boy,” she coos, “did so well for me.”

He sighs, leaning over her, resting his head against the wall behind her. Next time he wants to sink inside of her, to feel what it’s like to be touched, wanted, needed. Because as haunted and maladapted as he is, as he opens his eyes and stares into hers he sees that she is too. Her darkness plays well with his, and in a cold and sterile environment Ettore has finally found the warmth he’s always craved.

[cakeonfire911-thesequel]

The discourse around the Rice Krispies Fic, among a lot of other things in this fandom, is so fucking rotten, and the moment I started reading it I knew it would be that way. It is such a good fic, it's so carefully written and dark and twisted and fun, it's intriguing, it makes my skin crawl, it is everything; but anger at random people on the Internet is the biggest thing I feel after reading this fic, after slogging through the shitty discourse around it because I can't help myself, because I know it's there. "I lowkey thought you were a creep before I saw your author's note--" what the actual fuck?? That is such a rude fucking thing to say to someone in their fic comments, let alone a fic tagged "Dead Dove: Do Not Eat" for Christ's sake. And as for the people who *do* think the author is a creep: please please please free the worms from your brain. Do you genuinely think that the author is gonna go out one day and hypnotize some twink with a bull necklace? Do you think the author is gonna manipulate someone in their class to bark like a dog?? Be so fucking for real rn dawg. You do not need to make this author jump through Wholesome(R) Non-Problematic(TM) hoops to justify you not shitting all over them on Tumblr. What the fuck.

To the author, and to any author wanting to write some dark shit: you aren't a bad person, and you do not need to justify anything to anybody. Your work will justify itself.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Hi Ari. If it’s not too much to ask, could you please write something about Jason comforting his girlfriend when she has a random grief breakdown? My dad died a little over five years ago and I’m really sad and missing him a lot right now. You’re one of my favourite fic authors on here and I was just hoping I could read some comfort from you. Sending love <3

Jason didn't need an explanation.

The needle dropped on the album. Janis Joplin started signing. And out of nowhere, all you could do was sink, cross-legged on the floor and listen. Rocking yourself for comfort as you tried not to cry- powerless to stop it or just walk away.

For him, it was the smell of peanut butter and butterscotch melting in a pan for rice Krispies. It would ht just right on just the wrong day and he'd remember his mom. Like she was. The way she always smelled like roses. And it hurt.

It still hurt.

And all he could do was sink down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and putting his thigh on either side of yours. Protecting your back. Reminding you that he's there.

"She doesn't even remember me," you murmur. "I feel so stupid. She's not even dead-"

"Pockets," he said softly, "Baby-"

"She was doing so good that time- she was gonna start with a new band. She didn't have a boyfriend- it just. What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," he soothed, "Baby-"

"I didn't get there in time. I could have-"

"No you couldn't have," he said, refusing to let you flog yourself for this again. "Nissa- baby she loved you as much as she could love anyone."

"But not more than her drugs," you murmur.

Jason doesn't want to agree. But the disagreement is a lie. "You can miss the good stuff," he murmured.

"But-"

"Nissa is a horrible person. And a piss poor excuse for a mom but- you love her," he said. "It's normal."

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Baking Edibles with Steve-O HC’s!

Steve-O X Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mild drug use

An: This fic was largely inspired by this text I received from my amazing friend @twiggibranch! I found it hilarious and thought it might make a funny fic, especially with Bimbo!Y/N. Anyways, thank you for all the requests that I have been receiving and please keep sending them!! :)

It was always those lazy weekends when you and your boyfriend had too much time on your hands that you came up with your best ideas

This weekend was no different.

“You know what we should, like- totally do?” Snuggled up next to Steve on the couch while you half watched whatver was on TV, you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and giggled, “We should make pot brownies.”

Of course he was more than eager to jump at the idea,

The only problem was not only did neither of you know how to make edibles, you couldn’t bake anything that didn’t come from a box.

And even that was debatable (you tried to make Steve a cake for his birthday last year and nearly burnt down the apartment in the process)

“Ah, why the hell not?” He grinned, “Let’s give it a shot!”

Standing on your tip toes, you rummaged through the cabinets, eventually finding a box of brownie mix- admittedly it was pretty old and dusty, but it hadn’t expired that long ago,

While Steve went to grab the little baggie of weed he kept in his sock drawer, trying to figure out how you would be getting it into the actual brownies.

“What’re you supposed to do with this? Do you just- put it in the batter?”

Squinting at the back of the box, you shrugged, “I guess so…” I mean, people put nuts in brownies, right?

So you and your boyfriend sat side by side in front of the oven, excitedly watching them bake and ignoring the evil cloud of weed smell that was starting to waft through the air

But the two of you were like kids on Christmas morning when those puppies came out!

And after Steve burnt himself trying to snag a piece before they were cool, you sat back on the couch to dig in to the fruits of your labor! And oh my god

The fruits of your labor were absolute dogshit.

You and him shared this queasy look as you slowly chewed, debating wether it was worth it or not

But after the first one, the rest went down easier

“Hey, hey- next time,” Steve chuckled, wiping a bit of chocolate from the side of his mouth, “We should make rice krispies!”

[kitmoas]

in the devastatingly beautiful dream, found glistening love

Summary: A broken promise leaves you numb

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Dark SW!Wanda, Dark WestView Wanda, Dark Fic (Stockholm Syndrome, Mental Manipulation, Alludes to kidnapping, Hostage Vibes), Power Bottom Wanda, Milf Wanda, Mommy Kink, kinda intense choking, lots of magic use, numbing kink?, lactation kink, if you squint slight somno, double sided dildo/strap vibes (listen wanda made it so its special)

*As per usual, if I missed anything important let me know*

***MINORS DNI*** ***18+***

A/N: I do be out here not caring what time i put out these treats for Occult lol BUT say hi to our amazing SW mommy. Once again this is not edited so any mistakes pls just ignore lol

Wretched Dreamscapes Master List // Kiitmoas | Occult // Main Master list

Wanda’s jaw drops as she walks up the sidewalk to her house, the entire front yard has scattered decorations and half built characters all over and she can hear yelling from inside. She sighs as she struggles to keep her anger under wraps, work has been entirely too annoying and this was just another thing she knew that she would have to clean up. Her entire life was turning into messes that she just had to clean up; work, people, spills, stains. She was starting to lose patience, eyes flashing the dangerous crimson, as she slammed open the front door. There are fake spiderwebs all over, paper Mache thrown precariously all over, and she could hear pans clanging together in the kitchen. 

Shaking her head she storms towards the kitchen, trying to ignore the glue her heel just got stuck on. She spots you with the boys, intensely stirring something in a pot and your tail mixing some rice krispies. “What the heck is going on here and why is my entire home a warzone?” The ginger tries her hardest to not raise her voice, never one to truly yell at her boys, but she just wanted to come home and relax. 

The three of you whip your heads around, eyes wide as you stare blankly at her, before the boys panickily look at you. Slowly your tail puts down the bowl, quietly directly Billy to take over stirring the pot. You cross over to the witch, hands open and outstretched cautiously. “Wands, the boys and I were just decorating for Halloween. I know it looks crazy now, but I promise it won’t be by the end of the night and you won’t have to lift a single magical finger.” Scanning down her body, you can still see her tense muscles and the wisps of scarlet leaking from her ash dipped fingers. 

Trying to find the best way to defuse the situation as easily as possible, you slowly kneel down. Glancing behind you to make sure the island is blocking you from the boys, you sit back on your knees letting your jaw go slack as you look up at her. Tightening up your form, not allowing your muscles to slack or your posture to bend, you let a small pout form on your lips. 

She rolls her eyes down at you, flashes of ruby taking over the usual forest as she tilts her head down at you. Your tail whips out, wrapping around her leg as you soften your own eyes and scooch forward just a bit. Her ash dipped fingers twitch, something you take note of with an excited wiggle as you try your hardest to stay in position. A huff pushes past her lips before she shoves her thumb into your mouth, her eyebrow lifting as she watches you eagerly suck on it. Leaning so that your head is tilted back uncomfortably and she’s leering over you, “If you break that promise you’ll be in serious trouble, understand?” Shushing you as you try to mumble an answer, she shoves her thumb farther down your throat. “Don’t speak unless Mommy says you can. I will be relaxing in my office, and ordering dinner. If the yard isn’t cleaned up before dark, there will be issues. If the house isn’t spotless before bedtime, it won’t be the boys in trouble.” 

Wanda rips her thumb out of her mouth before you can really answer, spinning away from you and exiting the room. You’re left tumbling forward as your tail tries to grasp at her, landing you face first. Scrambling to get up before the boys come over, you crack your neck knowing that the rest of the night will take a lot of attention and focus to keep all three of you on task. 

Somehow the three of you actually get the entire front yard put together on time, and the boys are extremely excited about how it looks–their mother will be even more happy that powers weren’t used at all. Dinner was delivered and you dutifully brought the ginger hers, as the rest of you decided to snack on the food as you continued to finish up decorating inside. 

Tommy was building the last of the different characters he wanted inside and Billy was hanging up some more signs. Everything was going according to plan as you were trying to put the finishing touches on the caramel apples when you heard a squeaking door, and your blood turned cold immediately. You see the boys snapping up, heads turning to see their mom standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She doesn’t say a word, just points towards the stairs, and you see the twins hang their heads as they head to their room. Wanda pointedly clears her throat, tilting her head at you as she waves her hand. The entire rest of the house is cleaned up, and the remaining spooky prep finished. “You know where I want you. I’ll let the boys know you said goodnight.”  ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Your knees were beginning to sting as you knelt, thighs wide, in front of the bed on the wooden floor. The ginger had been gone for a while, most likely reading a story to the boys, and it was stressing you out a bit. Your tail swaying a bit behind you, a nervous tick you had, but you nearly jump out of your skin when it hits something. A hand wrapping around your throat from behind makes you freeze, “I wouldn’t break position if I was you.”  

Yanking your head back, you can feel the pain in your neck as you’re forced to look up at Wanda. Her eyes are burning bright red, almost like flames igniting. Digging her nails into your throat, she coos as you choke more. Letting go of your hair she waves her fingers in front of your face, her amused expression draining. “You made Mommy a promise, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger, correct?” Her grip turned painful, her upper lip wiggling as she glares at you. “But if I remember correctly, I lifted an entire hand.” 

Strangled asinine words fall from your lips, as your tail whips around panickily. With a single scrunch of her nose you feel your clothes melt off you, the harsh rush of cold air from the fan above causing goosebumps to paint your skin. Her hands trails across your body, groping at your breasts teasingly. A breathy laugh fills the air as she watches your nipples harden, scratching at the sensitive swell. 

You watch as she slowly circles you, reaching out to toy with your body randomly. Pulling on your tail, letting her boot rub against your exposed cunt, shoving her fingers into your mouth; every single action is planned and precise as she pulls you into a needy mess. “You know, I really wanted to come home tonight. Have a fun night with the boy maybe even take a family walk with Gunther to get rid of his energy, and then let you use me as you wanted. Mommy knows how much you like to feel all powerful, your brain thinking you’re so big. Instead I have to put you in your place, again.” Her eyes flash dangerously, as she stares you down. 

Even with the way her voice chills your bones, the way her hands drag along your body has you dripping onto the floor. She’s always had such an easy time riling you up, maybe it was your ability to absorb her magic that gave you a connection on a whole different level. Her soft hand cups your chin, pulling you as far up as she can while still leaving you on your knees, her own lips stretched into a teasing smile as she lets them ghost along yours. Never fully touching, Wanda mocks you–pushing you to fall back onto your ass. 

With a squint of her eyes, her beloved strap appears on your hips and the other side fills you instantaneously. It draws a throaty moan from you as you adjust to the feeling of fullness so quick. “Keep your eyes on Mommy, and maybe if you’re good you’ll get a reward.” Her gaze turns scarlet as she moves forward to straddle you, the ruby mist streaming steadily from her hands envelops your entire torso. It vibrates as it sinks into your muscles. The slow but constant thumping behind you is normal but as the witch is slowly moving down your strap the sound starts grating on her nerves. 

A quick flick of her finger and your excited tail slings up to coil tightly around your throat. Sharp point laying on your pulse, and Wanda’s fingers hooked underneath it, she finally lets her body move. Riding the strap slowly at first, you start panicking when you realize you can’t feel anything. Watching with wide eyes you could see the ginger bouncing in your lap, and you know that the harness would be rubbing against your clit as per usual but it’s almost as if you lost all feeling in your body. You’re supposed to be feeling aroused, dripping for her, and mentally you know that her movement would be pushing you to the edge. 

Tilting your head as far back as possible, her grip on your shoulder is like a hawk and the one on your tail is brutal as she shoves against your throat. Hearing her broken moans, gasping as she struggled to catch her breath, made your brain fuzzy. It was beyond frustrating not being able to feel anything, and truthfully it was starting to mess with your mind. Each time she whimpers your name, you can just feel the beginnings of arousal shooting down your spine and it clouding your brain before her magic swallows it up. A grumpy pout forms along your bottom lip and you try to use your best pleading eyes, but the witch just chuckles. 

Blazing crimson eyes boring it yours, and her bottom lip captured between her teeth Wanda moves faster on top of you. “Oh detka, Mommy wishes you would just listen.” Her sentence is rushed, forehead leaning against your cheek now. “I just wanted to play with my pretty girl, but you just had to go and piss me off.” Her teeth nip at the thin skin along your jawline as she growls, the aggression coming through as it vibrates through your skull. 

A sudden tsunami of arousal hits you, the feeling in your lower belly just barely registering in your brain. Eyes rolling back into your head, a pitiful moan tears its way up your throat. Even though the sensation is light, you can feel the way you’re dripping onto the sheets and clenching around the toy inside you. The heat disappears along your numb torso but your throat is flushed, and the weird staggered feeling is overloading your foggy brain. 

Tugging your tail tighter around your neck, Wanda chuckles as she watches your eyelids flutter. “You sound so pretty when you’re choking, princess.” Her hips stutter when her clit rubs roughly against the harness around your hips. “H-how’s it feel knowing you’re going to get off just from your pretty tail wrapped around your neck?” 

Excitement floods your brain at the knowledge that you would actually be allowed to cum today, something you thought would be off the table for days. The way your hips involuntarily jump not only pulls your mock collar tighter around your throat, but shoves the strap farther into Wanda. Throwing her balance off slightly, she hugs you close as she momentarily almost loses control. The feeling of your strap bottoming out so aggressively made her eyes roll back and choke on her breathing. 

The carefully controlled mist flickers, her magic struggling to stay consistent as the older woman trembles above you. She had been monitoring how much feeling you could have, only allowing enough to tease you but in that moment as she struggled to not fall over the edge your arousal hit you full force. It felt like a hurricane, exploding inside of you, and suddenly you could feel the way the small dildo inside of you rubbed against the soft spot and the harness grazed your throbbing clit. Pulsing and hard, each time even a little pressure was added a whimper tore through your lips. It was almost too much, the amount of pleasure that hit you overwhelming your body and mind. 

Already foggy brain felt like it was drowning and you could barely see, it shoves you over the edge. You can feel it all across your body, fire blazing as your orgasm erupts. Unable to stop yourself, you slip back and Wanda’s hand instinctively protectively slipping back is the only thing that saves you from slamming your head into the wood floor. “Mo-Mommy too much t’much no…no ‘lease no more.” 

Your begging goes ignored as your body shakes beneath Wanda, who’s hand is painfully pressing into your throat. Your tail is almost limp around your throat as it tries to not hurt you, but the pressure as the witch uses you to chase her own high. Thrashing about you can feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness at the lack of air, but she’s demanding you cum with her and your body lives to listen to her. 

Vision blurring, black slowly taking over until all you can see is the ginger’s head thrown back through hooded eyes. The ringing in your ears and the rushing of crimson mist in your brain is the last thing you remember before your second orgasm slams into you. It drags a searing burn through you, and your body can’t keep up as you fall into unconsciousness. 

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

It’s warmth and slow rocking that you wake up to, throat in pain. Struggling to open your eyes, fist coming up to rub at them. You finally see Wanda above you, cradling you, with a soft smile and your favorite forest green staring back at you. “There’s Mommy’s lil beasty.” 

When you try to speak your entire body flinches at the sharp raw ache resonating from your neck. The witch above you shushes you, running her ash tipped fingers along your cheek. “No speaking little one, you did very good for me. I have something that will help your throat.” She’s pulling down her tank top, exposing her full breasts. They are already leaking a little bit, something that makes Wanda cringe internally. 

Guiding your head to her chest, a sharp breath scraps through her teeth when you bite down on the first nipple. You quickly go limp in her hold, the warm liquid filling your stomach and luring you back to your sleepy state. The scarlet witch smiles, singing a lullaby softly as she watches you fight against exhaustion. She knows she doesn’t need to say anything, sparkling ruby glitter in her milk will solve everything. 

Along your body it’s almost like your skin glistens with her signature color, a mark forever on you, as your eyelids flutter closed. She knows that Halloween would be the easiest day for someone to recognize you after your demand to go trick or treating in your natural state, not a single ounce of magical disguise. It made her nervous, no matter how much she tried to control her entire world she knew it wasn’t logical if she didn’t want to affect her boys too much. It meant that would leave you vulnerable to someone from your own multiverse finding you, but with scarlet shimmering and glowing all throughout your being she just had to trust that her magic and love would win above all else. 

[blackbird-brewster]

🛼 🧃☁️

[Send me Asks]

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

👀🥵😍🥧➕

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

So, I've been writing and coming up with Jemily lore for ten friggin years. Me and @otahkoapisiakii used to have eight hour convos of non-stop headcanons. I have SO much lore stowed away in my files, most of it has never even come up in fics but some of these things are so important to the foundation of how I write my characters. That being said, there is also an endless supply of headcanons posted on this blog. Just go through my tags: Emily HCs, JJ HCs, Jemily HCs And to finally answer this, let me go grab a random piece of lore for ya, Anon -- (From 2015): JJ only eats soggy cereal, it's not because she particularly likes soggy cereal, it's because if she lets it get soggy it's more likely for Emily to not try and eat it. Emily only eats sugary cereals, she says it's because she didn't have a lot of them growing up and now that she's an adult she can do what she wants. JJ doesn't feel one way or another about cereal, she's fine with plain Rice Krispies, but Emily will have the pantry stocked with all manner of Lucky Charms, Captain Crunch, Fruity Pebbles, and whatever god-awful movie-tie-in cereal she found that week at the supermarket.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

OTP: Blackbird + (Paget) Brewster

[angelinthefire]

i can't decide between cute shit and timestamp

Re: this tag game

Thank you for asking!

"Cute shit"

So this is a pretty generic post-15x19, Cas-is-back-from-the-Empty fic. The setup is a lot like "Status quo ante bellum", in that Dean is still working towards fully expressing his feelings towards Cas, and Cas isn't sure where he stands. But Dean is being pretty clearly clingy, so Cas doesn't have the intense anxiety that he does in "Status quo". They go on the clown-mask-vampire hunt, Dean gets impaled, but Cas is there to heal him. But because Dean was so badly injured, it takes a lot out of Cas, and he passes out. Sam and Dean take Cas back to the motel and get him a room, and Dean stays with him overnight. The excerpt picks up the next morning. It's mostly just dialogue.

Cas wakes up first. Frozen, kind of terrified. 

Dean is snuggled into him by now. 

Dean wakes up. Jerks away in shock but recovers quickly.

Cas looks at him nervously.

Dean smiles bashfully, "Hope I didn’t wake you up?"

C: "No you didn’t"

D: "Good. How’re you doing? Anything screwed up?"

C: "No, I’m better."

D: Sighs, relieved. "I was scared."

C: Raises his eyebrows. "You were scared for me?"

D: "‘Course."

C: "Dean, you could’ve died." 

D: "Yeah that scared me too."

C: "Yeah. Me too."

D: "But… if I died… you’d come see me, right? Sneak into my memory box, wake me up? And we could just… hang out on the holodeck?"

C: "It’s a poor substitute for life."

D: "But you’d do it?"

C: (softly) "Yeah."

D: "Good. Y’know, I think… I mean… I wanna spend forever with you."

Cas stares, entirely disarmed. 

Dean’s eyes fall to his lips. 

He leans in. Cas is very still, and closes his eyes. Dean kisses him very softly.

Cas’ eyes are still closed when he pulls away.

Cas opens his eyes. Looks unsettled.

So Dean kisses him again. This time something clicks with Cas and he starts to kiss him back.

2. Timestamp

This is the scene from "Forget your perfect offering" in chapter 4 where Claire goes off to talk to Dean in the kitchen. I wrote the dialogue when I wrote the chapter, so that I would have a clear idea of what was happening with Dean, even though I never intended to post it with the fic. I'm actually pretty sure that I posted it on tumblr at some point, but I can't find it now.

The setup is that Dean is trying to give Cas what he wants so that he'll stay. And Jody, Kaia and Claire come over for a family dinner. And Dean basically tells Claire not to screw it up with her attitude. But he apologizes later, and that's when this scene takes place. Under the cut.

Dean feels bad for telling Claire not to be a weirdo, and asks her to help him with dessert so they can talk in the kitchen.

Dean: Sorry for being, y’know…

Claire: An asshole?

D: Yeah. I guess this whole thing’s got me on-edge.

C: What whole thing?

D: Y’know. Being with Cas. It’s a mindfuck. I mean, you get it, right?

C: Get what?

D: You know…

Claire stares at him.

D: Suddenly being different from how you thought you were.

Claire keeps staring at him.

D: Oh, come on. Your dad was all into Jesus. He didn’t raise you to think being gay was normal. Don’t you ever get hung up on what he’d think if he saw you today?

C: (getting agitated) No, I don’t, because he’s dead. And I had an angel in me, so I know that none of that shit matters.

D: Yeah, but when you started being into girls, you’re saying you didn’t ever worry what other people would think?

C: What the hell, I’m not your therapist, Dean!

D: Yeah. Right. Sorry.

C: (softening, just a little) I get that you need someone to talk to about this crap. But did you think that maybe that someone should be your boyfriend?

D: Talk to Cas? The dude spent eternity as, like, a giant lightbulb or something. I don’t think he knows what it’s like for everyone he knows to suddenly see him as some… some kinda… ugh.

Dean cuts into the rice krispie squares. Claire regards him cooly. The way Dean said "some kinda" gets under her skin.

Claire leans over the counter, and says to Dean in a low, icy voice.

C: Faggot.

Dean freezes and stares at Claire like she just slapped him.

D: What?

C: That’s what you were gonna say, right? That's what you are now.

Dean looks at Claire like he’s about to cry.

C: And you can wear your plaid, and carry a gun and talk like Batman, but that won't change the fact that that's all you are to some people. They'll see you and Cas together and that'll be it, they'll never see you as anything but dirty and wrong and weak. And I dunno, maybe your dad would've been one of them. But you gotta decide whether or not you're going to let them control your life. You gotta decide whether all that bullshit is worth it.

Claire takes the knife from Dean and goes back to cutting the rice krispie squares.

D: (after a long beat) Yeah. Yeah, Cas is worth it.

C: (significant look) I don't mean Cas. I mean being yourself.

D: (some kind of subtexutal reminder that Dean still thinks he's not really in love with Cas) Heh. Yeah. Thanks Claire.

C: Whatever. Don't start thinking I'm your gay Yoda.

D: It’ll be hard. You give good advice. For a dyke.

C: (good natured) Pansy.

D: Queer.

C: Cocksucker.

D: Nah, that’s not till later tonight.

C: Ew!

D: What, you don’t wanna hear about my plans for Cas’ cock?

C: No! Shut up, Dean!

[machihunnicutt]

OK LIST TIME‼️

- dishes & rice krispie treat making

- baby it’s you references/sources post

- journal some february goals

- find recipe for fam dinner

- put away clothes

- record better version of the song from yesterday

- if there’s still time, keep working on fic!!!

al vs. the horrors…the horrors are NOT WINNING TODAY

[total-drama-brainrot]

no thoughts just rice krispies alenoah and ‘our love is god’ from the heathers musical

when you say "no thoughts" you're referring to noah, right?

[cheolhub]

Talk about your moots; what do you like most about them (could be a paragraph or a single sentence, spread the love!!)

p sure i did this just a few days ago but everyone knows i adore my moots so i dont mind doing it again :)

it’s kinda long! (took me a literal hour and a half to write) and i tried to get everyone i talk to on a tri-weekly basis at least 😅

@ncteez i know you said to pick what i like most abt my moots, but i love everything about hon from the way she looks (she’s literally the most gorgeous person ever— she still owes me a selfie now that im thinking abt it) right down to her core. 🥹 the only mark stan who has ever walked the planet actually,,, i love hearing about her sex dreams and i love the way that she gives the best advice bc she only wants the best for me and how genuine she is. I LOVE HER & she makes me a better person every day, seriously ⭐️ i <3 my wife

@jeonghantis 🩵 there are about a million and three things that i can write for keir but i think the thing i love most about them is that… i can just be sar with them, i never have to worry about being judged for the things i like bc 9 times out of 10, keir feels the same way. like who else am i gonna talk about [redacted] with chan with ??? or [ censored beeping for 10 minutes straight ] with sangyeon ?? my jeonghannie, my bff, my ride or die <3 (they also hate everyone that i hate and watch my instagram lives even tho im super annoying which means i am going to die for them)

@onlyseokmins literally just love elv’s personality. she has this infectious positivity and it makes me so happy to be alive like dhahdh,,, every time i see her on the dash reblogging the silliest things or cute pics or even talking to other people, it makes me smile so hard like idk she’s so bright PLUS she’s resident dk lover on tumblr like there is no one else. tumblr user onlyseokmins is quite literally the only dk stan alive

@lovelyhan ok two things i love the most — one: kai’s writing will always get me out of a reading slump. i re-read their fics an ungodly amount of times, like i actually need to be blocked by them ( i definitely didn’t re-read inflection point again TODAY on my lunch break, nope! i didn’t! 😂……) TWO: kai is literally so sweet and funny and we don’t really talk much, but from what i know, they’re a really great person and anyone would be lucky to have them as a moot! ^^

@agustdiv1ne ash and i are actually moving to alaska and we’re gonna be neighbors /srs,,, srsly tho, i told her this already, but she’s an amazing listener and she puts up with my shitty texting and i seriously cant appreciate that more 😢 she’s so wonderful and lovely and my favorite yoongi stan to ever exist and i will shield her from the heat. don’t worry, ash, 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚.

@soonigiri MELODY <333 the soonyoung to my cheol!! she’s also someone i enjoy seeing on my dash sm!! she’s literally an angel and it’s so endearing to see her in her engene era. like i look forward to seeing jungwon on my dash every day /srs — OKAY ACTUALLY, ik im an awkward freak but i would love to talk to you more bc i think we have a lot in common T-T

@etherealyoungk SKYE i know we interact like every 3 weeks but each of them do really mean a lot to me <33 i think she’s really kind-hearted and i get really happy when i see her jn my inbox from time to time!! it’s like a nice little surprise which i love 🥹💝 it’s like finding a rice krispie at the bottom of my lunch box (if you don’t know the feeling, think immense joy)

@rubyreduji JJ THE COOLEST GUY EVER. he’s such a joy to talk to and i love that he’s lowkey my hypeman. every time i run a concept or idea by him, he makes me feel really good about it and i adore that. he’s so supportive i love him and i need to hug him so bad actually 🥹 (i give good bear hugs jj, pls let me hug u) also jj doesnt care that im a weirdo awkward freak and i have to commend him for that too ☺️

@toruro mikalicious always know what to say which is what i love the absolute most abt them now. when im in a shit mood, she knows exactly how to make me feel better and always helps me take my mind off of it. she’s so cute and wonderful inside and out and i really am so eternally grateful to have her as a mutual and a friend <33 also, mika, this is my formal apology for being the world’s worst texter 😅

@gyuswhore EM THE COOLEST PERSON EVER. i love her so much actually. she and i just started talking and i have to say, she is just so,,,, amazing? idk, i dont have the words for it. she was so kind to me when reading my wonu fic and she just read over my new cheol wip and she has given me such great feedback and im so appreciative of her!! + sending pics is lowkey my love language and she lets me send her the most random shit (my pc collection, my room, etc.) i love her 💝

@hwanghyunjinenthusiast MY FAV JOKSTER dbehdh talking to rj is seriously a breath of fresh air lol I LOVE her humor and she understands my humor. ALSO….. something about rj’s writing also does something to me… like i remember i was super depressed while i had strep and on a brief tumblr hiatus and i came onto the app for just a second and saw that she’d posted … mean dom!chan… i remember reading it and crying bc she GETS IT. no one gets me like rj (i forgot to rb now that im thinking abt it but im gonna get on that) my fave dinonara <3

@heesbaby TUMBLR USER HEESBABY SINGLE HANDEDLY GOT ME BACK INTO ENHYPEN. i never thought id see the day, but bc of her smau’s and writing, i’m back in my engene era… i love how much of an angel cinna is like,,, we talk every once in awhile but she makes me the happiest girl ever when she replies to my asks or i find her in my inbox. i’ll actually fight jay for cinna

@hyuk4ngel RESIDENT MINGYU STAN,, fay has been here with me since what feels like the fucking beginning and i seriously can’t thank her enough. she’s really encouraging and amazing and she has the best ideas ever. i swear half of my writing discography is thanks to her (just my mingyu fics which is lowekey half my writing discography begsgs) she also is always checking in and i just love her for that and many other things 🥹

@baeksbyunny / @baekhyunnybyun (you’ll have to remind me which acct im supposed to tag) BEX MY BELOVED!!! THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HER IS SERIOUSLY INDESCRIBABLE!!! she’s the nicest person to me. like i’ll never forget when i was anxious before my txt concert and she was so reassuring like i felt a weight lift off my shoulders. INSTANT (sar)otonin boost every time we talk, idk what it is. probably the fact that she has the most comforting presence. i love her, you honor. i rest my case.

@majestyjun mills was like the first moot i’d ever talked to,,, but i remember i was so intimidated the first time we did bc millie is literally so fucking cool like,,, i have always thought this and when she said //I// was cool and i was genuinely so honored like…. idk >< ALSO HER WRITING IS SOHSHSBS OUT OF THIS WORLD … the concepts the description,,, she’s a genius!!!

@sunnylovespickles even tho we just became moots, i thought it was really sweet that she dropped off pics of pink!cheol for me 🥹 my day was really bad and that brightened it so much <33 i hope to have more interactions with her in the future bc she seems so nice!!

[lokis-army-77]

Safe With Me Pt. 2

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 2340

This is a fix-it fic of season four of Stranger things. It follows the show, for the most part, I have just changed a few things so that I could add the character of the Reader.

The day after Eddie is found, he and the reader go into Rick's house.

Warning: Weed, that's it I think.

Main Masterlist (taglist linked here) Series Masterlist

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Early the next morning, I woke up to the peaceful sound of water sloshing about and the warm tug of a pair of arms around my waist. Yawning, I turned over to snuggle into the chest of the person holding me. 

“Good morning Sweetheart.” Came his gruff morning voice. 

I smiled. “Morning Eds.” I could feel his breath tickling my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

“How’d ya sleep?” He asked, rubbing his hands along my side.

“As good as a person can on a wooden floor. I think I might have a crick in my neck.” I laughed. 

He chuckled at my response, “Yeah, me too.”

I gripped onto him harder, having just woken up, my body went from being comfortable to freezing in the cool spring morning air. Eddie’s arms tugged me in closer to him. 

“You cold?” He asked. All he needed for an answer were my chattering teeth. 

Setting us up, he quickly tugged off his vest and leather jacket and laid them over my shoulders. The warmth of him permeated from the jacket through me, calming my shakes and shivers. 

“I should have brought a sweater yesterday.” I chastised myself.

“It’s okay, I’ll keep you warm, baby.” Eddie smiled and pulled me sideways into his lap. I leaned my head on his shoulder as I looked down at my hands on my lap. 

“When do you think the others will be here?” I asked.

“No clue, but it better be soon, I’m fucking starving. I haven’t eaten since I ran out of those snack bars at lunch yesterday.”

“Yeah, I don’t even think I ate yesterday come to think of it. Dustin and Max woke me up at half past twelve looking for you and then it was just hectic after that.” To further prove my point of having not eaten, my stomach growled. 

Eddie’s laugh jostled me in his lap. “Yeah, I think your stomach is fixing to eat itself.”

It was then, that we heard the sound of a vehicle. Not knowing if it was our friends or someone less friendly, Eddie and I jumped up in a panic. Eddie grabbed his weapon of choice, the broken beer bottle, and ran to look out the window.

“Do you see anyone?” I whispered.

“No, probably someone just driving by.” He visibly relaxed a bit as he turned away from the window to look back at me. 

Suddenly the doors to the boat house slammed open. In shock, I let out a scream, only to realize it was our friends with bags of groceries.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie spat, holding his chest like he was having a heart attack. 

“Fuck you guys. You could have knocked or something. You know, make your presence known?” I said exasperated. 

“Sorry,” Dustin cringed. “But we brought sustenance.” He and the others held up a plethora of bagged food and drinks.

“Oh thank god.” Eddie cried out as he went straight for the bag that had a cereal box in it. Tearing it open, he stalked over to the boat to take a seat inside. The others followed and sat on various things surrounding the boat. 

I took my time finding digging through the bag of food before settling on two Rice Krispie Treats and two Yoohoos for me and Eddie to drink.

“Did you guys only buy junk food?” I asked as I stepped over into the boat, handing Eddie his drink as I sat beside him.

“Uh, yeah?” Robin replied, sounding like she was questioning herself. 

I just shook my head before tearing into the Rice Krispies.

“Okay well,” Distin clapped his hands together. “We have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?”

“Bad news fists, always.” Eddie stated in an almost ‘duh’ tone.

“Bad news it is. So we tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro and they are definitely looking for you. They are also pretty convinced you killed Crissy.” Dustin broke the news.

“Like one hundred percent convinced.” Added Max.

Eddie's face slackened, the Honey Comb cereal he had shoved into his mouth, falling out. 

“So what’s the good news? I asked after taking a swig of my drink.

“Good news is that Eddie’s name hasn't gone public, but if we found out,” Robin raised her hand in a gesture to the group, “it's only a matter of time before others figure it out. And when it gets out, everyone in this town will be gunning for you”

“Shit.” I groaned under my breath.

“Ha, Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie scoffed. 

“Before that happens,” Dusting interjected with his plan. “All we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

“That's all Dustin. That's all?” Eddie asked sarcastically.

“That’s easier said than done there kid. We don’t have El, we don’t have Hop, and we are missing half the group.” I pointed out. “Like I know we have fought monsters before but we had help. We had real help.” 

“Uh, it’s more like a uh-” Robin started.

“A brainstorming phase.” Max finished and everyone agreed with her. 

Eddie sat beside me looking concerned and completely lost. 

“Look, Eddie, there is nothing to worry about.” Dustin smiled and Steve struggled to keep a laugh in. 

Eddie and I just looked at them like they were crazy. Eddie groaned and leaned his head on my shoulder, but I moved him off of me instantly when the sound of sirens blared down the road. 

“Get down.” I panicked, pushing Eddie down into the hull of the boat before jumping out. “Grab the tarp.” Eddie did as I said and the rest of us went to the windows to watch what was happening. 

What seemed like the whole of the police department along with the fire department and an ambulance came racing past Reefer Rick’s and on down the road. 

“What do you think happened?” I asked.

“Don’t know, but I think we should go check it out,” Steve muttered. 

“Come on, we can come back by later.” Dustin grabbed my hand but I tore it away. 

“No, like I said last night, I’m not leaving Eddie by himself. You guys go, leave a walkie here with us.” I moved back over to the boat to pull the tarp off of Eddie. 

“Okay, but be careful. Radio if anything happens.” Dustin dug around in his backpack before handing me his walkie. 

“You guys stay safe too.” I waived after them as they walked out the door. 

Huffing, I sat down. “So? Now what?” 

“Um, well, I think Rick has some cards in the house. We could break in and play, TV has been broken since before he was arrested so we are SOL on that.” Eddie pointed out.

“Wait, hold on, you’re telling me we could have slept inside the house this whole time and not in a fucking boat house?”

“Yep.” He said, popping the p.

“Eddie,” I whined. 

“Don’t Eddie me, we can go up there now. We just have to make sure no one is on the lake.” He jumped out of the boat and took hold of the bags Dustin and the others had brought. 

I left the building first, watching the area to make sure the coast was clear before waiving Eddie on. I followed him to the back porch where he kicked open the screen door and went directly to a rusty-looking grill that obviously hadn’t been used in ages. Taking the lid off, Eddie dug through the ashes and picked out a key. 

“Ah-ha!” He exclaimed, holding up the key like it was a precious treasure.

“Who keeps their spare key in a barbeque grill? That's nasty.” 

“Well, you obviously wouldn’t have looked there,” he said as he unlocked the back door, pushing it open and gesturing for me to go in. “M’lady,” He grinned. 

The place was stuffy and definitely what you would think it would look like on the inside. Dirty and dingy. 

“I see why you never brought me along to buy your supply.” I ran my fingers along the kitchen counter, making a face of disgust when they came away covered in dust. “How long did you say he’s been in jail?” 

“Uh, like four months, but before that, he had only been three weeks from being in jail for almost six months,” Eddie answered as he placed the grocery bags on the table beside me. 

“Wow, okay then.” I thought for a second. “Wait, if he’s always in jail then how does he sell you all the weed?”

“Well,” Eddie started to unpack all the food from the bags. “I usually just buy the whole lot off of him, which lasts for a while, I’ve never run out before he’s gotten out of jail so,” he just shrugged. "Plus, I have other people I buy from."

“Huh, I guess that makes sense.” I moved on from the kitchen, and walked through the house, being nosey. The place looked awful, and I could feel my nose starting to tingle with an oncoming fit of sneezes because of how dirty it was. Going around the house, I tested the lights, and they worked but I immediately turned them off, not wanting anyone to see that they were on.

“What are you doing?” 

I jumped at the sudden sound of Eddie’s voice behind me. Although, I couldn’t jump far since his arms had wrapped around my waist. 

“You scared me.” I laughed, throwing my head back onto his shoulder. 

“I don’t you why, I’m the one who should be jumpy.” He teased. “But really, what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I brought my hands to rub at his which were clasped together at my front. “Just thought I would look around. Maybe find some contraband and those cards you spoke of.” I giggled as he leaned into my neck, his hair tickling my skin.

“Ah, I see. Well, you won’t find any drugs in the guest bedroom.” He kissed my neck before pulling away, keeping a pair of our hands clasped together. He pulled me along the hallway to a dark room which, from the sliver of light coming in through the window, I figured must have been Rick’s bedroom. “Wait there.” Eddie left me by the bedroom door so he could go digging around in the closet. A moment later he came back to me with a little baggie of weed and rolling papers. 

“Now what about those cards?” I asked, taking the baggie from him. 

“Those would be in the living room.” He smiled before tugging me along once again. 

The rest of the day went by slowly, the weed and the excess boredom of not being able to go anywhere contributed greatly to the almost nonexistent passage of time. There were only so many times we could play Go-Fish or Old Maid since having smoked, that we couldn’t figure out the rules for anything more complicated than those two games. 

“I am so fucking bored. What time is it?” I asked, laying back on the floor, using Eddie’s discarded jacket and best as a pillow. We had both been seated criss-cross on opposite sides of the living room coffee table. 

“It’s a quarter past three.” Eddie sighed.

“Ugh. I’m dying of boredom.”

“Come here, baby.” Eddie made grabby hands at me for the other side of the table. I smiled and crawled my way to him on my hands and knees. “Let’s finish this blunt and then we can just take a nap. How's that sound? Hum?” 

I nodded into his shoulder before taking the blunt from his fingers and taking a few long drags. 

It wasn’t long before we had finished smoking and Eddie was sluggishly leading me to the guest bedroom and tucking us both under the dusty covers. 

“Hey, Eddie?” I asked as I curled up into his chest. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Are you scared?” I clung to him, my mind fuzzy from smoking.

“More than I care to fuckin’ admit.” His arms held me tightly and even though we were warm under the covers, I felt Eddie shiver.  “Never thought I’d be the one to run when things got tough, but here I am, a coward.” He sighed into my hair.

I looked up and him, bringing my hand to caress up his neck and cradle his cheek. “You aren’t a coward Eds, you’re human.” He stared at me with his big chocolate brown eyes, they looked even bigger as his pupils dilated in the low light. “I would have run too if I didn’t know what was going on.” 

He gave me a lopsided smile. “Thanks, sweetheart, you always know how to make me feel better.” I smiled as he leaned his head down and pressed his chapped lips on my forehead in a tender kiss. “I just,” He choked out, “I just feel awful for leaving her there you y’know? Like I didn’t try hard enough to save her.”

I pushed myself up in Eddie’s hold so his head was not westing against my chest and I was holding onto him protectively. “There was nothing you could have done, nothing anyone could have done Eddie. We know nothing about how Vecna operates or what he wants, there was nothing that could have saved her.” 

Eddie sniffled, burying his head into my chest. “I just keep thinking, what if it had been you? What if it was you dangling from the ceiling with me standing there helpless.” He started to weep, tears dampening my t-shirt. 

I just held onto him, not knowing what else I could do or say. My hands rubbed circles into his back and across his bare arms. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered, trying to soothe him.

He cried into my chest for a while before his breaths evened out, becoming more relaxed as he fell asleep in my arms. The grip he had on my waist was tight, but I didn’t mind, it let me know he was going nowhere. 

So, I pulled the covers up around us and drifted off to sleep with him.

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda

[bakageta]

As I mentioned in the tags of this post about bats buzzing like wasps to escape predators, I'm really intrigued by the idea of a mammal imitating an insect. Partly because I usually think of insects mimicking birds and reptiles when I think of animal mimics, but also because there's something about a mammal (generally relatable to humans) imitating and insect (generally unrelatable to humans).

And because I'm coming from a place of big time Venom brainrot, it makes me think of how fics almost always have Venom growling and purring. In the comics there's a wide variety of sounds, plip, spib, ect... the kind of goopy noises you'd expect from a slime.

So I'm thinking what if Venom buzzed instead of growled? What if they hummed instead of purring? What if they crackled and ticked and chirped and burbled?

On one hand, I love the idea of Eddie being utterly confused by the noises Venom makes. He eats rice krispy cereal in milk and Venom starts snap-crackle-popping back at his cereal. When he pets them they hum tones like a tuning fork. In an argument their speech has a buzzing undertone that overtakes the words if they get angry enough, and Eddie only understands them because they're bonded together. And maybe, when Eddie get focused on an article, Venom starts making ticking noises, and Eddie doesn't notice until someone points the sound out because Venom's ticking in time with his brain like they're a metronome matched to Eddie's thoughts.

On the other hand though: Venom doing their best to mimic mammalian noises in an attempt to better communicate with Eddie. They're an excellent mimic, of course, but the noises aren't natural to them. Sometimes they start a purr with a growl and it confuses Eddie enough that he stops petting them and apologizes. If he touches them, they try to do a cat-activation mrrrp but it's too sharp and he thinks it bothered them. And when they're really mad they can't keep the buzz out of their growl.

Either way, the two of them start picking up each other's noises. Human/mammal noises become more natural to Venom. Their first response is still a hum or a buzz, but maybe sometimes it shifts into a purr or a growl. They get better at making sounds appropriate for the occasion and Eddie gets better at interpreting Venom's native sounds. He starts making clicking noises alongside Venom when he's focused, hums when he's content, and because they're changing and sharing a body, Eddie's frustrated sighs start buzzing.

[ragnarokhound]

tagged by @hardlycats! :D

name: Elizabeth! I've also gone by Fenris while online, haha - old username habits die hard :)

pronouns: she/her :) also down with she/they

where do you call home: the pacific northwest owo

favorite animal: a toughie, because I like Many, but zebras were my favorite when I was a kid, and wolves are a big one (...clearly >.>) Dragons tho. If we include mythical animals then dragon hands down, no question

cereal of choice: REESES PUFFS REESES PUFFS (peanut butter chocolate flavor) this was for the joke (insert kombucha girl meme here) fr fr I like rice krispies/choco krispies, if I eat cereal at all

visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner: kinesthetic probably haha - often people will show me and then tell me a thing, but I really have to just. Try it myself to really Get It. In one ear out the other with me sometimes OTL

first pet: Smokey the goldfish O3O I think...I may have been responsible for Smokey's untimely demise. 4 y o me dumped a little too much food in the aquarium :') RIP Smokey 😔

favorite scent: hm! I don't usually think about this - probably sandalwood, or pine. Fresh cut sawdust :)

do you believe in astrology: I am versed enough to get by with the folks who do lol i'm a libra sun, gemini moon, leo ascending u_u and i kind of know what that all means lmao

how many playlists on spotify/apple music: oh no. ohhh nooo. don't. don't look at me-- oh god. oh no look i've dropped them oh god now i'll be here all day *starts shoving them back into my backpack

(if we don't count other people's playlists that i follow. 285)

sharpies or highlighters: sharpies no contest

songs that make you cry: i don't cry at a whole lot of music! but if we want the same vibe then Little Fall of Rain, On My Own & Empty Chairs At Empty Tables from Les Mis (the london cast recording, not the movie lol) and Vagabond by Misterwives, Andra by The Ghost Of Paul Revere, Liar by the Arcadian Wild, Id by Charlie Allen, I Need My Girl by The National...listen I have a playlist for this lmao

songs that make you happy: Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham (reminds me of my little brother :)) & Cardiac Arrest by the Bad Suns, Talk Too Much by COIN, Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier...Listen. I Have A Playlist For This

do you write/draw/create: i write fic! I also went to school for art education and am endorsed to teach art (to high schoolers when I get the chance lol). I was a girl scout arts and crafts specialist for a camp two years in a row, and recently I subbed for a high school ceramics teacher for the last quarter of school and made a bunch of ceramic stuff, it was really fun! I also paint, draw, crochet, cross stitch, and if I had a sewing machine I'd probably sew haha.

I am at the whim of ADHD brain tho (probably >.> squints in undiagnosed) and only post things online sporadically. My JayTim phase is actually the Most active I've been and also stayed in any online activity that involves me making things and also posting them lol

tagging but no pressure: oh yes um! only if you want to! @shineyma | @beanboop | @listen-to-the-inner-walrus