#wait a second. WAIT A SECOND. I have such a vivid imagination. hang on.

[the-trans-dragon]

Increases my Social Capacity stat by playing minigames (imagining I’m in a store and identifying what emotions it makes me feel and which sensory data I’m most apprehensive about, and then comforting my imagined self to reduce the chronic average panic I have felt about being in public)

[screeching-bunny]

Part 2 on the Yandere supernatural heram please.

Yandere! Supernatural Harem pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Your first ever viable memory was of a supernatural creature. At the young age of three, you encountered an extremely tall woman with long black hair dressed in a white dress. Looking back at the memory, she ended up turning out to be an urban legend called Hachishakusama. The eight feet tall women loomed down over you and followed you wherever you went. Everytime she was nearby you could hear her utter the sound “po” over and over again. Anytime you brought this up to your parents they would just brush it off as you being imaginative and thought that you made an imaginary friend. “Would your friend like to join us for dinner tonight?” Never, would they actually take your comments.

It wasn’t until you got tired of her appearance did you actually start to confront her. With your limited variety of vocabulary and baby voice, you spring out the sentence of “Why you follow me?” Only to be met with silence as you stomp your little feet on the ground. Geez how rude of her didn’t she hear that you asked a question?

Suddenly, the woman reaches her arms out to grab you. The grip of her hug was strong and firm. You were barely able to move around that much. Your tiny little brain panicked as you struggled to get free. It was the first time that you’ve ever experienced real fear. Soon, the woman opened her mouth and said, “Won’t you come home with me child. I’ll make sure to take care of you and treat you better than your biological parents.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before your mother burst into your room and screamed.

After that incident your parents took you to a Buddhist temple so that you could be dispelled from evil spirits or entities. This however, never really worked because some form of shape or another they just kept on crawling back. When your parents thought that you were safe you were finally able to leave the temple. Your parents wanted you to be extra safe so they decided to move out of the house and buy a new one. Thankfully, due to this incident they were more aware and took your concerns about others very seriously from then on.

Another vivid memory that you could recall was when you were at the age of eight. It was at the time when your new neighbors moved into the house next to yours. Your father wanted to greet your new neighbors and took you along with him. You remember waiting on their doorstep as your father knocks on the door. A few minutes pass and he knocks again. “Maybe they're not home, let’s come back later.” Just then the door swings open and out comes a tall blonde man. “Hi, we’re your new neighbors. We just came by to greet you and welcome you to our neighborhood.” The blonde man stared for a second before saying, “Thanks so much for that and your formalities. You have such a cute kid. I have two twin boys about their age, do you think they could play together?”

Just like that you were in the neighbor’s yard with his two twin sons. They were definitely an odd bunch with long bangs covering your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel their eyes following your form. As time went on hanging around them wasn’t that bad; they were very nice to be around and listen to basically everything you said. The only problem was that they were overly clingy, everywhere you were they just had to be as well. Another red flag was that they would never allow you to see their eyes no matter how much you pleaded and pestered, they would never allow you to see their eyes.

By the time that you were in the fifth grade, you three were inseparable best friends. During your time with them however, students at your elementary school started to go missing more frequently. An incident that you could remember was when you told the twins that you liked some kid and were planning to confess soon. A few weeks later your crush was missing and a community search was sent out. No matter how hard everyone looked no one could find them, it was almost as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

As the years went on more creatures showed up to you but they seemed to be intercepted by some weird force. You made sure to keep this a secret from everyone but your parents. It wasn’t until your senior year of high school that you found out the truth about your two best friends. One day, you just got so curious about what their eyes looked like that you peaked at one of the twin’s eyes when he was his face. His eyes were pitch black and darker than charcoal. Even though you didn’t know it at the time, they were called black eyed children.

Safe to say, you were extremely creeped out by this discovery but were even more creeped out that they were planning on kidnapping you to some faraway place. Yeah heck no, so on the day of graduation, you decided to run away from home to get away from them. You then wrote a letter to your family basically saying, “Yeah, so my childhood friends aren't actually human and it’s best I leave before anything happens to you or me peace out, xoxo your child.”

Leaving home was pretty rough for you. You’ve never felt so alone before in your entire life and to top it all off you were a newly fresh adult. Making it into an adult transition was difficult and confusing but you somehow managed with that.

Blasting into the future now, you were in quite a predicament. Waking up with your limbs tied to a bedpost was not your ideal way of starting your morning but hey at least your kidnapper didn’t you hard rope. Instead, it was a really thick ribbon and lace that bonded your arms. Your eyes start to adjust to the light as your vision starts to get clearer you notice that most of the furniture is Victorian styled. Soon you hear footsteps reach to the and it starts to open.

“My love, it seems that you're finally awake. Oh how I’ve dreamed of this moment, I can’t believe that this is real.” Wow this was totally not creepy whatsoever. Taking in his appearance you notice his sharp fangs and long glistening hair. Yeah he is definitely a vampire, this is so annoying you really did not feel like being a blood bag right now.

“Can you please untie me? I promise not to run away.” Before you could get a response from him, the ground suddenly started to shake, and you could feel your arms being freed. As you get up to run from your captor, you feel the arms of someone grabbing your waist. In a blink of an eye, you feel someone lift you up and fly you away from the vampire. “GOD DAMN IT, NOT THIS AGAIN.”

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, kissing, mutual pining, pocky game

summary: in which you convince your best friend to play the pocky game with you.

a/n: i don't know why i've suddenly developed an obsession with kissing. either way, please enjoy reading!

“I’m sorry. I must have heard you incorrectly,” KAZUHA says with a smile. A slight dusting of rose pink tints his cheeks a hue reminiscent of bygone sunsets as he shyly glances away from you. “But if I wasn’t mistaken, then I wouldn’t be opposed to your idea,” he whispers.

Your heart skips a beat.

Kazuha is charming beyond measure. His words flow like the autumn breeze, and the way he acts around you never fails to make your heart flutter.

“Let’s play the Pocky game,” you repeat yourself.

Kazuha’s grin widens. “So my ears weren’t deceiving me,” he says, trailing off towards the end. He meets your gaze, and as you look into his eyes, you swear you can see molten ruby glints of adoration glittering in their depths. However, you don’t want to get your hopes up, so you brush it off as nothing more than your imagination playing tricks on you.

Kazuha gently reaches out for the pack of Pocky you’re holding and opens it. He takes one stick out and sets the rest of the pack down on a nearby table.

“Shall we?” he asks.

He lifts the Pocky up to your lips, and you bite down. You immediately notice that he ended up giving you the side that you prefer. It shocks you how well he remembers the little things. Even though you’re best friends, you didn’t expect Kazuha to recall such an obscure intricacy. It was just something you had offhandedly mentioned once, yet in Kazuha’s mind, it was a statement that remained vivid and bright, akin to the most picturesque of memories.

He must really care about you.

Kazuha bites the other end, and as he does, you feel your skin heating up. He’s so close. It feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Why does your best friend have to be so undeniably handsome? Up close, it is impossible for you to miss his snowy hair, reminiscent of dazzling glacial glimmers of winter, as well as eyes filled with flurries of autumn maple leaves dancing about, mingling with flecks of stardust.

The two of you nibble at your respective ends of the Pocky stick. To your slight dismay, Kazuha takes his time, savouring the moment instead of trying to rush things. You feel yourself getting more flustered by the second. While he had initially appeared slightly shy, he’s now completely calm and composed, and in stark contrast to him, you’re an absolute mess on the inside.

Before you know it, your lips are practically touching Kazuha’s. He’s so close. You can feel his breath fanning your face, and soft strands of platinum hair tickle your skin.

You freeze up. Now your brain has really stopped functioning. You can’t do anything while Kazuha is this close to you, and you doubt you’ll be able to make another move before Kazuha does something. Why did you think this was a good idea again?

Luckily for you, Kazuha takes the initiative of snapping you out of your trance by taking the last bite. Your lips meet for just a split second before both of you pull away, looking anywhere but each other as you immerse yourselves in the afterglow of your actions.

A silence hangs in the atmosphere for what feels like an eternity before Kazuha speaks.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit too bold with my advances,” Kazuha says apologetically. He manages to muster the courage to look at you, and as you scan his face, you notice a whole plethora of emotions swimming through his expression. Your best friend smiles at you sheepishly.

Your heart melts upon seeing his grin.

You shake your head. “No, don’t worry. I actually kind of enjoyed it, even the part where we kissed…” you admit shyly.

Kazuha breathes out a sigh of relief. He seems strangely happy.

“Then in that case, please allow me to request a favour,” Kazuha says. He waits for you to nod before continuing. “This may be a bit presumptuous of me, but please kiss me again — properly, this time.”

“You can’t be serious,” your best friend says without a hint of hesitation lacing his words. SCARAMOUCHE’s eyes narrow as he reciprocates your stare.

“But I am,” you reiterate.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Strands of hair spun of the midnight sky fall in front of his eyes as he moves, and his breath hitches for just a moment when he realizes you’re not kidding.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbles before he takes a packet of Pocky off his bedside table. With a few tugs, the silvery wrapping tears apart. He takes out a singular stick of the sweet treat.

“Will you shut up if I do this for you?” he asks.

“I will,” you promise, although you have no intention of adhering to your agreement.

Scaramouche always acts as if he’s irritated by you, but you know he enjoys your company. On occasions as rare as an appearance of the northern lights, he admits that he cares for you, making your heart glow up with all the colours of the brilliant Aurora Borealis.

You know him better than anyone, but what you’re not sure of is how he’ll react to playing the Pocky game with you. Most of the time, he’s quite stoic — apathetic despite the sentiments and colours of the world that flow on the wind.

But no one would be able to maintain a calm demeanour when they’re practically kissing their best friend, right?

It’s time to find out.

“You can have the side dipped in chocolate,” Scaramouche says. “And don’t you dare think I’m doing this for you. I just happen to hate sweets.”

You giggle. “Sure,” you say playfully. You know that Scaramouche is telling the truth, but it’s always fun to tease him because it elicits the best reactions.

However this time, Scaramouche just groans and holds up a stick of Pocky.

“Get to it before I change my mind,” he tells you.

Scaramouche lifts the treat up to his lips and sinks his teeth into the plain end. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. You bite down on your end, and you feel your face heat up. You’re too flustered by your proximity to your best friend to notice the sweet taste of chocolate bursting in your mouth.

Gradually, you nibble at the chocolate-coated snack while Scaramouche does the same. It seems like neither of you are feeling too bold at the moment; however, you still inch closer and closer with every passing second.

It’s painfully slow, and as time drags on, the rate of your heartbeat only starts increasing. Each excruciating second undergoes a metamorphosis into a century as your best friend’s blush-tinted face draws closer to your own.

And finally, when only a few centimetres remain between the two of you, he stops. You’re frozen in place too, and as you gaze into his eyes, everything around you becomes irrelevant — mere specks of fading supernovas in a galaxy of wonders.

Your breath hitches.

In all your years of knowing Scaramouche, he has never appeared this shy before. It’s endearing, heart-warming. Who knew that this adorable side to him existed?

One second…

Two seconds…

And three seconds pass.

Before Scaramouche finally decides to make a move. He leans in. Closer and closer.

You tense up, but at the same time, you feel yourself melt into an amalgamation of giddiness. You’re ready for whatever will happen next.

You feel the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, almost anticipating a kiss, but thankfully, your hopes aren’t too high. Because just when Scaramouche’s lips barely ghost yours, causing your heart to flutter like maple leaves in autumn wind, he pulls back, snapping off the last bit of Pocky.

“I win,” Scaramouche says after swallowing the final piece. His face is adorned with a smirk and a proud expression that you just know you’ll be seeing for the next few days.

“I guess so,” you sigh, admitting defeat. “But don’t act like you weren’t blushing like crazy a few seconds ago!”

Scaramouche freezes for a second before crossing his arms. “I did no such thing.”

“Oh, really?” you question.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans. He narrows his eyes at you, refusing to admit that he had allowed you to glimpse into his heart and learn the true nature of his feelings.

However, as your conversation continues, shades of sunset begin to dust his cheeks once more, dawning on his pale complexion like the most serene instances of carefree days bleeding into vivid nightfalls.

“This is foolish,” XIAO says bluntly, staring at you intently with eyes full of honeyed sunlight as you open a pack of Pocky.

He’s not impressed, and you can tell. However, you know that even though Xiao acts as though he’s unwilling to partake in the little game you proposed, he’s not actually against it. After all, you know him. He’s your best friend, and after years of growing up together, you’re sure that he’ll do anything to make you happy, especially if it’s something as trivial as this.

“I know,” you respond nonchalantly. You’ve learned how to deal with Xiao’s tough-on-the-outside attitude by now. Deep down, you know that first of all, as a more reserved person, he doesn’t have the most profound understanding of others, so he might find some of their games rather absurd. Secondly, he’s not great at expressing his emotions, so even though he sounds angry or irritated at times, you understand him well enough to read him like a book.

Xiao merely sighs quietly in response. “Let’s get this over with.” He looks down at the ground, and for a second, you swear you can see the beginnings of a blush coming to life on his face.

You nod and take out a stick of Pocky. You put one end in your mouth and soon enough, Xiao follows your lead.

At first, he stares at you with uncertainty swimming within the daffodil hues of his irises. He’s a little confused, and you don’t blame him. Xiao isn’t someone who usually spends a lot of time with others, so he’s not familiar with things like the latest trends and popular games.

However, he quickly picks up on what he’s supposed to do when you take a bite of the chocolate-coated treat. Xiao follows in your lead, and although each nibble he takes seems slightly hesitant, you note that he’s still trying his best for you. It nearly makes your heart melt into an amalgamation of butterflies.

Xiao seems to be getting more and more flustered by the second. As you inch closer to him, you almost feel as though you can sense the rapid beating of his heart sending reverberations through the air, creating echoes that tell tales of unspoken emotions and unexplored sentiments.

And before you know it, his face is barely an inch away from yours. You can feel his breath tickling your skin and the heat radiating off his face.

The sight of Xiao acting endearingly shy is something you barely ever see. Sure he’s proven to you that he cares for you multiple times, but he’s never been this flustered before. Most of the time, you’re the one who ends up like that around him. Whether it’s a situation where Xiao walks by the side of the road, keeping you as far away from danger as possible whenever you go out for strolls or a scenario where he awkwardly hugs you after a bad day, you can’t help but blush in his presence.

This time, things are the same yet so, so, different. As always, your heart feels as though it’s reeling and on the verge of exploding due to your proximity to Xiao. The only thing that’s changed is the look on Xiao’s face — eyes shining with affection and cheeks tinted with a hue reminiscent of cherry blossoms in the spring divulge feelings that you have long been waiting to see.

The world around you freezes, and for a paradoxical second in a universe where time is infinite, Xiao is the only one in your thoughts, and you’re sure that it’s the same on his end. Everything is nonsensical for a moment, and you don’t know who makes the first move, but soon enough, your lips meet, shattering the perfect dimension you and Xiao have crafted.

For a brief flash of time, you feel yourself kissing Xiao. It’s everything you had imagined and more. Your heart skips a beat, and stars seem to illuminate your world as you relish in the soft feelings that spring from the contact. But to your dismay, the whole experience is over just as quickly as it had begun.

Both you and Xiao pull away when you realize what you’ve done. You both avoid eye contact, shyly averting your gazes so that you can’t see the other. For a few awkward moments, silence hangs in the air.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you say, mustering up the courage to take a peek at Xiao.

He nods in agreement, looking back at you.

But deep down, the two of you know that there’s nothing you long for more than another kiss.

thank you for reading! i'm sorry if this wasn’t that good. i’ve been really busy with finals and assignments, so i don’t have quite as much time to write. please consider commenting/reblogging if you enjoyed this!

[daisynik7]

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too. 

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice. 

“How are you, princess?” 

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe. 

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?” 

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead. 

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger. 

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing. 

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.” 

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?” 

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him. 

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off. 

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him. 

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high. 

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round. 

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night. 

[lovsalvatore]

Jealous Girl

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!reader

Summary: Wanda gets jealous after seeing a video of you and your friend.

Warnings: +18, Minors DNI! smut, strap-on (r receiving), oral on strap (r giving), gagging, jealousy, choking, slapping (one slap), degradation, tit groping, overstimulation.

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: first time posting something here let's see how it goes ✰ masterlist

You always knew Wanda was the jealous type of girlfriend. She always gets irritated when you stay out too late with your friends. And deep down you love that. Most of the time because you feel important every time it happens, you love the attention she gives you, and loves even more when you pretend not to care about that attention of hers. Sometimes you do it on purpose, just to see what she'll do next.

Normally she wouldn't show it in front of everyone, she would wait for you to come home to punish you the way only she knows how. And you enjoyed every second of it, even if she ended up being a little bit rougher, you loved, because at the end of the day you always reminded her that you were hers, and just the smile she gives you when you say it makes it all worth it.

But this time you couldn't hide the surprised expression on your face when she literally drove to the bar where you were hanging out with your friends, grabbed you by the arm and practically threw you into the passenger seat of her car. During the whole drive to your house, you wondered what could have irritated her so much to make her go to where you were, she had never done that before.

And when the minutes passed, and you got closer and closer to home, you remembered the video your friend had posted. You had your arm around her neck, and for the briefest of seconds you had your lips brush against her cheek. You didn't think at the time what this video would cause in Wanda's jealous mind, but seeing her park, slamming the car door when getting out of the vehicle, you can already imagine that she’s not happy with the situation at all.

"Get out." she says after opening the passenger car door, and obedient as you are you do what she asks. You get out of the car, and follow her like a puppy to the front door.

You can already feel that annoying heat form between your legs, and with every step you take, seeing her this way always does things with your body, and with that, your urge to tease her increases. “I was having fun.” you say as soon as you two enter the house. “You know, if you had taken longer it could have been more than just a peck on the cheek…”

You lie. You never felt like kissing anyone else after you met Wanda, and you weren't crazy about cheating on her either. But pissing her off is your favorite pastime, and when one of her hands ends up on the collar of your shirt, pushing your body hard against the icy door behind you, you realize your little game of getting her mad is working. “Say that again?” she says, squeezing the fabric on her fingers, pushing her hand slightly against your throat. "What exactly would happen if I hadn't driven there, hm?"

Nothing would happen, you both know that, but playing this provocative game is more fun.

“I think you might have some ideas.” you smirk teasingly.

Wanda's grip on your shirt gets tighter, and the pressure she puts on her hand against your throat makes your breathing start to become uncomfortable. Just the thought of what you could do to that friend makes Wanda's blood boil, her eyes darken, and in her mind the scene of her punishing your friend is vivid, but contrary to what she does to you, to your friend would only be pain, no pleasure.

You grab her wrist as her fingers leave the collar of your shirt to wrap them fully around your neck, her breath so close to your face causing shivers to start to form through your body. “Kneel.” she murmurs close to your mouth, tightening even more the pressure of her fingers. “And don't say another fucking word if you don't want to regret it later.”

“Oh I won’t-.” you try to speak but the words get stuck in your throat just like the air. You can see that Wanda is having fun just by looking at the smile in the corner of her lips, while you squeeze her wrist more and more in the intention of showing her your difficulty on breathing properly.

You wait until her grip loosens so you can do as she asks, but it doesn't. Wanda still has her fingers squeezing the sides of your neck, and understanding that she won't let go to make it easier for you, you end up falling to your knees, the impact of your skin against the wooden floor makes a whine come out between your lips. Looking ahead, you can see the bulge in your girlfriend's pants, something you hadn't noticed before.

Your heart beats fast when you realize what's about to happen, and Wanda smiles when she feels your pulse accelerate through the palm of her hand. "I'm going to fill your mouth so you have no choice but to shut up." she finally releases the grip on your throat, making the air go back to your lungs in a relieving way, but as soon as she unzips her pants, pulling the strap out you practically go back to holding your breath, you never had anything in your mouth but her fingers, so it's normal for you to be a little fearful of the size of the toy around her hips. "And you'll take it like the good slut you are, isn’t that right?”

You gulp, nodding as you look up, your eyes meeting hers. There's no evidence other than pure jealousy in Wanda's gaze, and that shouldn't turn you on even more, but it turns out that you can already feel your own wetness starting to paint your underwear. If Wanda could only feel the state you are in, she would surely laugh in your face.

“Open.” her hand grabs your jaw, waiting for you to do what she asked, but you don't do it right away, you wait until a hard slap makes contact with your cheek for you to finally open your mouth. “Don't make things difficult, it will only be worse for you. Tongue out.”

Your cheek starts to burn from the impact, but you end up smiling at the sensation before sticking out your tongue. She's mad, and you can't wait for her to take it all out on you, even if you've never done it before, you don't mind the thought of her fucking your mouth merciless, but at the same time you feel afraid of not doing it the way she wants you to. All you want is to please her, show her how good you can be.

The toy feels heavy on your tongue, and when she starts to slowly move her hips forward, the desperation of not being able to bear it makes you instinctively turn your face to the side, an act that certainly didn't please Wanda, who soon after hold the top strands of your hair, shoving the strap into your mouth all at once, the tip of the toy hitting the deepest part of your throat making you gag by reflex. You try to push her away by gripping her thighs, but she just pushes deeper into you with her strength greater than yours, you gag again. "See? That’s what stupid whores get when they hit on other people other than their owners.”

Tears fall down your cheeks when she finally gives you time to breathe, taking the toy out of your mouth for a while that wasn't long enough for you to fully catch your breath before shoving it back in. This time she pushes your head against the door behind you, making it impossible for you to get away from her. "I bet that's what you wanted all night." Wanda starts a back-and-forth motion, fucking your mouth calmly, making you gag every time she pulls in too deep. “Me fucking your mouth to shut you up.”

You feel your cheeks blush when you realize she's right, even though it wasn't your first thought, now you can't hide the pleasure of having the toy coming out and entering your mouth at a higher speed, you haven't gotten used to it yet, but it's enough for you not to want her to stop. You just want her to keep going.

"Fuck look what a good slut you are, taking my cock without complaining." Wanda says in a breathing voice, her own pleasure beginning to grow just seeing your mouth around her strap. "Gonna fuck your mouth until you can't breathe anymore and beg me to stop.”

She fucks your mouth at the same speed that would fuck you, quickly and aggressively, you start to feel short of breath when breathing through your nose is no longer enough, causing both of your hands to go to her hip, trying to push her away. But she doesn't make things easier for you, seeing your struggle she stops suddenly inside your mouth, the toy gets stuck in your throat until you start gagging again, the tips of your fingers squeezing the more on her hips and your body automatically fidgeting in search of air.

Saliva bubbles start to form in the corner of your mouth, and Wanda just wipes them on your cheek, moving her hips slightly and making the strap shift inside your mouth. The discomfort in the middle of your legs just grows by the second, leaving an uncomfortable feeling inside you.

You think you’re about to pass out when your vision begins to darken, your body becomes more relaxed, until she finally lets go of you, she takes a few steps back, practically fucking you with her eyes as the air finally begins to return to your lungs. You cough while getting used to your now empty mouth, wiping the tears that fall on your cheeks.

“Get up.” she says shortly watching you massage your throat. You smile, looking up, making Wanda bite her lips the way you stare at her, so vulnerable and submissive, just waiting for her to finally relieve the tension that’s bothering you.

You take a long time to do what she asks you, waiting for your breath to return to normal. This was the first time she had fucked your face like that, but you already want more. The discomfort of feeling the toy hitting deep in your throat was big, but not unbearable, you sure want to feel it a second time.

You get up, and start walking toward her, but in one swift motion she turns your body with your back to her, and presses you against the door. Your cheek hurts as she pushes your head against the wooden material, lifting your skirt to the height of your hips with her other hand.

She didn't even wait before pushing the strap inside your wet entrance, making a loud moan escape through your lips. "What did I say?" she pulls the strands of your hair so that your head can tilt a little back, starting to fuck you slowly so that you get even more desperate. "Keep quiet, don't make any sound, are you so stupid that you've forgotten about that?”

You shake your head, no, closing your eyes tightly when one of her hands gropes your breast, squeezing it tightly making a pleasurable pain that only increases your desire for her. She continues her slow movements, and you have to take all the strength of your body so you don't start moving your hips in search of more. "I already said I don't like it when you stay out too late with your friends." she mutters in your ear, her hot breath beating against your skin driving you crazy. "That way they will think that you are nobody's, when in fact you belong to me.”

Your hands start to come up the door to find balance, but Wanda grabs both your wrists, pulling your arms back as she presses your hands against your lower back. Your face then is the only form of support you can find, pressing your cheek against the door as you try not to make a sound. "Fuck, you're taking it so good, maybe this way I'll let you come."

The thought of her letting you come doesn't make things any better for you, and when she starts fucking your cunt mercilessly, making the door squeak loudly every time your body slams against it, it only makes you closer to the edge, internally begging her to finally let you come, but you can't say anything, and even if you want to beg her you can't do it because you know if you say a word she might just leave you the way you are.

You feel her filling you with the strap, each minute thrusting deeper into you, causing symptoms of her own orgasm to begin to show. Wanda tightens her grip on your wrists, lowering her head to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You whimper, biting your bottom lip hard to hold everything inside you. "You're close?" she asks before turning her head away again. “If you are, hold it.”

You don't know how, but you hold on for as long as she asks you to. The sound of her hips slamming against your ass and the wet noises of the toy pounding on you make it a difficult task, but you keep holding back your own orgasm, the pain of having your cheek pressed against the door seeming to bother you no more.

You just stand there, taking everything she gives you, the way she's doing it to remind you that you totally belong to her, the way she's loving every second of having you all surrendered and desperate for her. "Fuck." Wanda moans as her whole body vibrates with the waves of pleasure, squeezing your wrists painfully as the orgasm hits her like a brick. “Fuck… come for me, come on, make a mess all over my cock.”

Her name comes out loud from your mouth as soon as you release all that tension that was begging to leave your body, pleasure invades every muscle in your body relaxing every part of it. You take a deep breath through your mouth, turning your face to rest your forehead this time against the door, feeling the strap still inside you, continuing to fuck you hard. “Wanda.” you whimper. “Wanda please-.”

"What?" your walls tighten around the toy, making Wanda have a harder time getting it off and shoving it back inside you, but she manages to keep doing it anyway, letting go of your wrists to squeeze both her hands around your neck. “Isn't that what you wanted?”

It's an uncomfortable feeling to have her overstimulating you, forcing you to keep going. But soon that discomfort turns to pleasure again, and having her hands around your neck makes your body surrender to the second orgasm, without letting you even process what's happening. Your loud moans are muffled by one of her hands as the other moves down to your clit, making circular motions on it as she continues the same pace in fucking you. “So take it.” she whispers against your neck.

You close your eyes trying to focus on something else to prolong the moment but it's inevitable, being filled by her and having your clit being stimulated at the same time is a combination that makes you just can't control what it does to your body. You come all over, your fluid wetting all over her strap along with some of the floor beneath you. When she takes her hand away from your mouth you exhale heavily, throwing your head back to rest on her shoulder.

"Oh, we're not done yet."

[damon-loves-pie]

Girls Talk Boys

"Girls Talk Boys."

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader.

Word count: About 3,200 words

Warnings: 18+, Some ‘smut’ not much though kissing, talking about sex, some touching, but nothing too vivid. Talks of sexual relations, hidden relationships, sex toys implied. Henderson reader, and of course Eddie and Max never got hurt. 

ANOTHER WARNING: Max does imply asking about sex toys and how people are in bed just like most teenage girls I know, I know she’s young but going off how I was at 14/15 I was buying them already and experimenting with things like that. She DOES NOT DO anything sexual, she just teases Nancy and the reader and asks about their sex life. But if it’s going to bother you I ask you please to not read it, or hate on it since again I am writing based on how I have experienced life.

Summary: After defeating Vecna the party has made it mandatory to have dedicated hang out days. It is boys/girls night at Steve and El/the byers. Eddie and the older Henderson Sister have a secret relationship while people ask why they aren’t together. 

Author’s note: Hello everyone! I am back with another story! I feel great to have been able to write not one, but two stories! Especially after not having had motivation to do anything in months. I had gotten inspiration for this actually weeks ago but just couldn’t find a way to put it in words. I was driving and girls talk boys by 5sos came on off my playlist and it got me thinking. And yes I did listen to the song 10 million times while writing this. It is 3 AM where I am, so I have not proofread and don’t want to wait to post because I was excited about this. I hope you all enjoy! 

Writing Masterlist

------

Summer of '86 was unlike any summer before. It felt like there was more pressure to make it as normal as possible for all of us, especially after what we've been through the last couple of years. We all realized after the final battle against Vecna we were bonded for life and needed to make sure we took care of each other.

Which is why that March after the government somehow cleared Eddie's name, we started having dedicated nights for the party outside of our usual hangouts. The second Saturday had became movie/game night for everyone. While the 4th Saturday of the month was dedicated to boys/girls night.  

It was something that was all agreed upon. We would switch out homes, parents fully understanding the need of it. (Well besides Mr. Wheeler of course, but Mrs. Wheeler is quick to put him in his place.) Though it seems the usual hosts tend to be Steve and El/Byers. Steve's parents still don't seem to care to be home and Joyce somehow convinces Hopper we're all grown enough to be alone and that if anything were to happen, it would somehow happen even with them there by reminding him of high school.

All the parents knew of everything though. After the upside down broke through to the real world, there wasn't anyway of hiding what we all had been dealing with the last couple of years. Steve's parents just wanted to make sure their house was okay, while the Sinclair's were pissed to find out both of their children had put themselves into dangerous situations.

Dustin and I's mom wasn't happy with us, after having lost our father she didn't want to experience the loss of someone else important to her. (We didn't have the heart to tell her what happened to Mews though, that will forever be a secret.) Max's mom couldn't believe she had moved her daughter to a place more dangerous than California, when she moved here in hopes of keeping her safe.

Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler didn't have a lot to say, Mr. Wheeler still doesn't believe that we've spent the last couple years actually fighting these things. He claimed we all had great imaginations, while Mrs. Wheeler was in shock but made us promise to tell her and the other parents if anything were to ever happen again.

Wayne didn't care about the upside down, or the monsters. He was just happy his boy was safe, and had gotten cleared of all chargers. He claimed to have known the government was hiding more than the masses were being told of. Said if they had just been honest, maybe none of this would of ever happen.

I don't really know what happen with Argyle’s parents, to be honest I'm not even sure if they know, with him being 18 when the events happened. Robin's parents at first wanted to move her away, to shelter her from all of this. She was supposed to be focused on graduating and band, not getting involved in this mess. But she convinced them to stay since she was already 18 and an adult, plus since she only had a few months till graduation.

Which talking about graduation; Nancy, Robin, and Eddie managed to graduate. Nancy and Robin were a given but Eddie got through with a loophole. After the 'earthquake' ruined half the town, they wanted to push out all of the students to make room for those who needed shelter. So basically everyone got passed for the remainder of the year.

But the weirdest thing to have happened since Vecna is Eddie and I. After Eddie almost got killed in the Upside Down, I couldn't keep my feelings a secret anymore. Little did I know before speaking out to him about it that night in my house, he himself was preparing to tell me how he felt.

Both of us couldn't imagine having not told each other how we felt and didn't want to risk another moment. That night lead to where I am today, pinned under Edward Munson as he begs me to skip girl's night.

It was June 28th, 1986. The last Saturday of the month and instead of getting prepared for going to El's, I was listening to Eddie's excuses.

"Come on sweetheart, do we really have to go tonight?" He teases against my neck, lips loosely moving against my skin while he leaves small, sweet kisses. The air was thick and heavy as he held me beneath him, letting his rough hands hold my hips in place while his lips explored my body.

My body ached with desire at the thought of staying in the sheets with Eddie. With my hands running beneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching into his back as he bites my earlobe slightly, causing me to gasp softy.

"No," I moan lightly, his tongue swirling around my collarbone before he bites the sensitive skin. "B-But, I think it would make everyone question where both of us were." I stutter, feeling his hands roam up underneath my shirt onto my stomach, shivering from the touch.

"We can just say we forgot," He breathes, continuing to work on my body. His lips trailing kisses up my neck to my lips, connecting his with mine. My brain fogged as his tongue traced my bottom lip before entering my mouth. Moaning into the kiss, I roll my tongue against Eddie’s, his hands moving to feel under my breast, cupping them slightly.

Part of me wanted to say fuck the others and stay right here melting beneath his touch. But I can't, we can't. Pulling away, I set my forehead against his. Both of us breathing heavy as we look into each other's eyes.

"Eddie, till we tell everyone, we can't risk anyone asking anymore questions than they already do." I tell him, feeling my chest move up and down heavily. Eddie nods slightly, understanding.

We both had wanted to keep it a secret because we hadn't wanted to give our friends another big change to deal with. We felt like it wasn't fair to them especially after everything that had happened, given we didn't expect to keep it a secret for so long. But the town was finally getting back to normal.

"We don't have to sneak around much longer, I promise." I smiled at him, pushing back his hair out of his face.

"I know, (Y/N). The town has almost everything rebuilt and people are finally starting to move back into their homes." He nods, leaning over to grab a cigarette off the nightstand. I watch as he sits up, lighting it before leaning against the wall of his bed.

Wayne and him had gotten a good amount of hush money from the 'misunderstanding' and bought a nice little house for the two of them here in Hawkins. People were fleeing after having realized Hawkins was more 'cursed' than they thought. But that meant that Wayne finally had his own room ever since having taken Eddie in when he was a boy. I hated how it had to of happened, but I was happy they were able to make the best of things.

I smiled at him as he offered the cigarette to me, taking it between my fingers. Bringing the cigarette to my lips, I inhaled deeply picturing the reactions of everyone once they knew.

"Do you think they would find it weird? Even though they keep asking why we aren't together yet?" I look at him, watching his eyebrow furrow as he takes the cigarette back between his fingers.

"Why would they find it weird?" He asks, blowing smoke out of his lips. Shrugging, I blush slightly.

"Because it actually happened? And maybe they will find it weird because they didn't expect it to." I tell him nervously.

"Do you think dating me is weird?" Eddie teases, passing the cigarette back to me.

"No," I laugh as the smoke bursts out of my mouth.

"Well then they shouldn't think any different." Eddie reassures me placing his hand on my knee, giving it a light squeeze before handing me the cigarette with his other hand.

"It's just this will be big news to them, especially Dustin. He looks up to you so much." I sigh, putting the cigarette out in his ashtray.

"I know sweetheart, but I don't think them knowing would change anything, hell like we said they keep asking both of us when it's going to happen." He reminds me, drawing circles on my knee with his finger lightly.  Eddie chuckles, causing me to smile I turn towards him.

"What?" I laugh lightly.

He smiles slightly, shaking his head.

"It's just you've never actually told me what the girls say to you." Eddie tells me, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my face redden as he looked at me, knowing there was a reason I never told him about what goes down at girl's night. It's the same reason I try to not pry about boy's night.

Pulling my hands to my face, I feel a nervous laugh escape my lips.

"They just ask the normal things. Like what I think of you, if would I date you," I tell him, as my voice trails off " or If  I would uh um sleep with you." I mumble, hoping he didn't hear the last part.

But unfortunately Eddie did, causing a grin to spread across his face, brown eyes shinning.

"Oh and what do you say? Would you sleep with the freak?" He teases.

"Wouldn't you wish to know." I laugh, shoving my shoulder against his.

"Well I tell the guys I think the world of you." Eddie smiles knowingly, connecting my hand with his.

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

Girls night has been a on full spring, El and Max shoving Chinese takeout into my hands as soon as I walked through the door. We watched some movies we all brought since we couldn't check out movies from Family Video after it had been destroyed. We also painted our nails, and even convinced El to let me pierce her ears after watching Grease.

It had been a fun night so far. Which is why at 1 am when we ended up laying around the living room, I knew it was far from over as our monthly talk was executed.

As always Max started the conversation, turning towards Nancy.

"Okay, so Nancy we need to know. How is it with Jonathan being back?" Max asks innocently, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, watching as Nancy smiles. "Leaving your bedside drawer alone now?" Max continues, getting straight to business as Nancy's eyes widen while her face goes red.

I laugh, as Nancy gasped.

"Max," She laughed nervously, tossing some popcorn at her. Giggling, Max puts her hands up in defense.

"Hey, were were all thinking it." Max shrugs as Robin chuckles at the sight.

"You still didn't answer her question Wheeler." Robin smirks making Nancy glow more as she pushes her hair off her shoulder nervously.

"It's uh- um been nice." Nancy admits, "And yes, I've-um been leaving my bedside drawer alone more often now." She said sheepishly, bringing her hands to her face as we all erupted in a howl to her response.

Still giggling Max turns towards me, still wanting to start off tonight's talk headstrong. I raise my eyebrow at her in challenge as she grins in acceptance.

"Now enough about Nancy, how about you (Y/N). Have you found someone to take place of the box in your closet?" She questions, making all the girls turn towards me.  I shake my head, popping a few M&Ms into my mouth.

"I think you need to stop snooping through our rooms and take a look under your boyfriend's bed." I laugh, leaning back into the couch.

"Erica has said some things." I tell her as she shakes her head in disgust.

"Uh gross, I don't care to know what boys look at. They go feral over a piece of bread." Max shudders. Making us all snicker at her sudden repulsion.

"But let's be real, has anyone caught your eye yet?" Robin continues for Max, making eye contact with me. As I shake my head, shrugging.

"I'm just not looking to get into a new relationship." I admit, telling partially the truth. El furrows her eyebrows at me.

"Don't you want to be happy?" El asks, making me shake my head at what this poor girl has been taught.

"You don't need someone to be happy, and my box in my closet takes care of me very well." I tell them, pointing at the other three. They all share a glance before Nancy turns back towards me.

"You know who I think would be okay with your box?" Nancy says, making me hum in response as she gains confidence.

"Eddie." She smirks as Robin claps in excitement.

"Oh yes defiantly! Remember when we were in his room and saw the handcuffs on his wall!" Robin reminds Nancy. Causing Max to smile in response.

"He defiantly is a freak for reasons people don't know." Max nods as the older girls nod in agreement. Poor El looked confused, not understanding how far sex can actually go.

"Why would he have handcuffs in his room? He's not a police officer." El asks, causing all of us to laugh nervously.

"That's a conversation for another day honey." I tell her as she nods, understanding I'll explain it to her a different day. I was trying to not let my face redden at the conversation at hand, because I had defiantly used those handcuffs on multiple occasions; on me and Eddie.

"I still haven't heard a no, have you ladies?" Robin raises a eyebrow, glancing at the girls.

"I have not either Robin." Nancy agrees as all their eyes go back on me causing me to laugh lightly.

"Eddie is just a friend." I lie causing all of them to roll their eyes.

"So was Jonathan." Nancy states.

"And so was Lucas." Max reminds, making me feel defensive.

"That doesn't mean me and Eddie are going to become anything." I point out.

"But he likes you." El states, not understanding why we wouldn't date each other.

"What?" I choke on my drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"He likes you, I can tell." She tells me.

"He most defiantly likes you." Nancy agrees.

"And you like him too." El points out.

"I don't think you guys know what you're seeing." I roll my eyes, throat starting to tighten under the pressure of the girls.

"(Y/N) will you please just admit you're into him." Robin begs. As Max fights herself on sharing a piece of information, before deciding to share it with the room.

"You're over there almost every night for some reason." Max speaks up.

"You pay attention to when I'm over there?" I look at her, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie's home hadn't been the only one available in the neighborhood he moved to, just like his trailer wasn't the only one to get ruined. Max once again had became his neighbor as her mom had to find a new place to live.

"Funny enough the nights you aren't there, Eddie doesn't seem to be home either." Max smirks, knowing she connected the dots a few months ago as the girls soak up the information.

Nancy's face lights up as she realizes what she just heard.

"OH MY GOD." She says sitting up, slamming her hands on the floor.

"OH MY GOD!" She squeals, "You two are already dating!" She points at me as my face turns red, not knowing how I could get out of this.

Everyone jumps up slightly at my face turning red. Sighing, I pick up a Twizzler.

"You can't tell anyone." I point it at them as they scream. After everyone calms down Max leans forward.

"So does he really live up to the freak title?" Max asks, causing a laugh to escape my lips.

------

Eddie's P.O.V

Instead of being in bed with (Y/N), I'm stuck here listening to Dustin give Steve Harrington love advice. Not that I don't find it amusing that King Steve is now needing a 15 year old to tell him what to do to find a girlfriend.

"I'm telling you that you need to find your Suzie dude." Dustin tells Steve while all of us guys lay in different parts of the living room. Steve looked annoyed with the young boy, wondering why he always felt the need to help him.

"How come you don't bug Eddie on finding his Suzie." Steve says defensively, wanting not to the the topic of conversation.

Curiously I glanced at Dustin, wondering why I haven't heard him bug me on finding someone for a few months actually.

Anyone could tell that Steve's words had taken Dustin aback especially by the way Dustin goes to speak and then pauses for a second when he realized all the eyes were on him. Putting his hands up in defense he goes to speak.

"Okay it's not my place, but I think Eddie has already found his Suzie." Dustin tells us, making my throat turn dry.

"What do you mean?" I ask, rubbing my neck slightly. Dustin turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I hear you sneak into my sister's room every other night." Dustin reveals, causing everyone to gasp. "My mom might be deaf but I'm not, and those walls are thin." He tells me.

"Hell yeah man, you found the girl of you dreams. Good for you dude." Argyle smiles, lifting a his drink at me in cheers. While I nod, before turning to Dustin.

"Dustin I don't know who you're hearing but it's not me." I shrug, trying to keep my cool as the boy rolls his eyes.

"How many other people roll up listening to heavy metal? Plus you park right down my alley." He tells me. "Also, I'm not stupid." The younger brother reminds me.

"I park down your alley at midnight, why are you out at midnight?" I question him, leaning towards him.  

"Why are you down my alley if you're not dating my sister?" He challenges, leaning forward as well.

"Hold up, hold up. You're telling me Munson here is screwing Henderson?" Steve asks. "How the hell did that happen?" Causing a chuckle to escape my lips, I always knew he had a thing for her, it's probably why he was nice to Dustin in the first place.

I watch as Dustin physically gags.

"Ew dude, don't say that. She's still my sister." He shakes in disgust.

"Well it sounds like you've been listening to it for a few months." I laugh, pulling my beer up to my lips.

"They make Walkman's for a reason." Dustin shivers.

While everyone else caught onto the words that just left my mouth.  

"Months?" Mike and Lucas's eye's widen.

"Months," I nod.

"Now that's not fair, I thought she was off limits." Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

"She was supposed to be, but it looks like someone didn't listen." Dustin eyes me, causing a chuckle to escape my lips.

"Okay, to end on a serious note. I am going to need you guys to not say anything because your sister will kill me if she knew I told." I explain to them.

-----

Thank you!

[milchig-de]

Over the phone

Anton Ivanov x reader

Notes: you and Anton have sex over the phone. Reader has a dick, but is kept gender neutral. not proofread or edited. this is like. porn so minors stay out!

Dhkshs why are there like. almost no anton fics. why is he on my mind so MUCH ARGH

-CLUNK-

"Good job, Hans! Keep going. Put your robotic arms to good use, bro!", Anton yelled. They had just managed to put the machines back together after the incident with the Prototype and already put them back on the grind. The metro system won't renovate itself after all.

Hans yelled back "You got it bro! Just putting in the work, haha!"

"Be careful not to overdo it! Hans only just got repaired... It would be a shame if I had to take him apart again~"

At Grace's words a shudder ran across the machine. Anton sympathized with him. The thought of being taken apart didn't sit well with him either. But as long as it kept the machines on the right track, he let Grace say whatever she wanted. Not that he could've stopped her anyways.

The vibration of his phone interrupted his tboughts. Sneaking a glance at his display, he was delighted to find out you were calling him- although you usually didn't call while he was at work. Worried something might have happened, he called out to Grace.

"I'll be right back, Gracie! Just got a call to take. Hans, you know what to do bro!"

"Got it, bro!"

Winking at him, Grace replied.

"Don't take too long flirting with your sweetheart~"

Waving her off and ignoring the way her words flustered him, he strutted to his makeshift office where the construction and machinery noises were significantly quieter. Thankful you waited on the line, he picked up your call.

"Hey babe, what's up?"

Only heavy breathing responded. Were you hurt? Running away from someone?

"Darling? Can you talk?"

A moan responded him. For a second he misconstrued it as a moan of pain, but then you finally began to speak.

"Antonnnn..... I miss you so, ngh, so much..... Wish you were here right now..... Mmmnnngh.... "

It was then that he also recognized the distinct wet noises in the background. He swallowed hard.

"Babe... can you tell me what you're doing right now?"

"Hmm.... I'm jerking off right now... Imagining it's your hand that's squeezing my dick right now... Rubbing your thumb into my slit.... Ah, I'm oozing so much...."

Anton felt his blood rushing to his cock. Any plans he had to hang up after you told him why you called him went out the window at your response. Instead he checked he had the door closed properly and leaned against it, ensuring it wouldn't open without him noticing. Then, he carefully reached down to palm his own crotch.

"Couldn't you wait for me to come home? You know I can't really take calls at work..."

You let out a chuckle.

"You've been coming home so late Anton... I just couldn't wait anymore... Mmph... Plus from what I'm hearing on my end, you're not faring much better than me..."

It was true. While you were talking, Anton had snuck his hand into his boxers and was gently stroking his cock in his underwear. His breathing had picked up and he was occasionally letting out small grunts.

"Fine, I admit defeat... But how could I possibly resist when you just sound so hot..."

"Hehehe... You know Anton... I've been craving to touch you again... Those tits of yours must be calling for me~ I've been wanting to suck on them and knead them so much these past few weeks... You always moan so deliciously... Ahhh..."

"Oh babe..."

"I just wish you were here now... I'd suck marks into your skin so everyone would know I fuck you the best... I'd press your dick against mine and cover both of them with lube... Wrap our hands around them and thrust into your dick and our hands... See which of us cums first... All the while I'd latch onto your nipple and suck so hard it'll be sore like your muscles are after a hard day of work~"

Anton groaned at your words. The scenes you were describing were vivid in his head. He picked up the speed of his strokes.

"Hahh... Tell me more please..."

"Since you asked so nicely~ I'll lick all over your entire body, cleaning any remaining sweat off of you... Then I'll slide down to kiss your cock... I'll first use my hands to jerk you off, paying special attentions to your glans... I'll tighten my grip especially there... Then I'll lean down to take the head of your dick in my mouth and I'll swirl my tongue around it before sucking on it lightly... When I've gotten used to feeling the weight of your cock in my mouth, I'll sink down to take you whole~"

At those words, Anton's face twisted in elation, hips bucking forward and moaning wildly. He kept gently stroking himself at your instructions, to properly ride out his high. This kept him twitching and groaning, overstimulating him slightly. His dick spurted out globs of cum, unfortunately staining his underwear. He was lucky his pants were white, so any stains that would print through weren't too visible.

He stood there for a moment in silence, breathing heavily. A few drops of sweat rolled down his face. Looking at the call time, it had only been a few minutes, yet it was already time to return to work. Luckily, he would manage to go the toilet to clean up at least some of the mess he made. Pulling his hand out of his pants he observed the cum that had stuck on his hand. He really had missed you as well...

"I'll be home early tonight babe. Get yourself ready, bro!"

"Don't worry, I already am! You just keep your promise~"

"Of course babe. See you tonight!"

"See you!"

Hanging up, you chuckled and turned on your back. This had been your goal from the moment you called him, though you weren't quite sure how to make him horny enough to want to come home quickly. But since he missed you as well, it had all worked out splendidly. You couldn't wait for his shift to end~

[fluentmoviequoter]

okaaaay, first of all i just wanted to say that i've been OBSESSED with your writing and your fics about victor vale lately. it's just SO good???? just know you're changing lives out here

second of all, my request was yet another angst w victor (maybe with a fluffy ending??), but sort of inspired by the grudge by miss olivia rodrigo? i was just listening to this song rn and then this thought came to my mind all of a sudden 😭 idk if you're gonna like the idea, but if you don't, that's absolutely ok ❤️

Oh my gosh, thank you so much!! Changing lives? You're too kind. I absolutely love this idea; I don't listen to Olivia but I actually really like this song! It definitely gives Victor Vale vibes! I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted and please let me know what you think!! (PS, you said 'another' angst to fluff, did you request one of the others? If so, thank you for coming back and did you like it?)🤍

Warnings: ANGST, gets a little fluffy toward the end, spoilers for Vicious. 1.8k+ words

"The Grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo (explicit version)

Like a Grudge

The phone rings, and a rare photo of Victor smiling at you lights up the screen. Your day brightens as you answer. Summer is approaching quickly, but Victor promised to spend extra time with you on Fridays.

“Hey, Vic,” you greet, smiling at the flowers he sent you this morning.

“I’m leaving,” he interrupts, out of breath but emotionless.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sitting up.

“I have to leave. And I am never coming back.”

“You’re leaving school?”

“I’m leaving everything.”

“Why?” you whisper, remembering his promise from a few weeks ago. He said he’d be by your side through anything and protect you, hurt people before they could hurt you. And now, he’s doing the very thing he promised to protect you from.

“Angie.”

Your world shatters around you as the call ends. Victor chooses Angie.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit up with a choked gasp, your sheets tangled around your legs as you wipe your hand harshly across your cheeks. Victor chose Angie like he always does. The memory of Victor betraying your trust, leaving you, and then hanging up on you still confuses you. Victor was your entire world, and he left, crushing your happiness between his fingers. Life without Victor is different than you expected, and the ghost of him haunts you every week.

The dead flowers on your desk are the only physical reminder of Victor, yet he never leaves your mind. Staring at them, you imagine Victor sleeping peacefully, unaware of the pain you’re experiencing, even years after losing him. You doubt he ever thinks about the damage that he did. Every single detail of the day Victor left you is vivid, but the slow, love-filled moments from before fade more each day. You cling to the memory of him, his voice choosing Angie, and the lack of care he ever had for you. 

You kick your sheets off as your heart rate slows, pulling your knees to your chest. Part of you, deep down, wonders what it would be like to wake up beside Victor, leaving this nightmare you call life behind. You know what you’d say. Despite what he did, you still love Victor Vale with a deep, undying love that you hold to like a grudge. As his voice fades, the nightmare returning to its waiting place in your mind, you stand from your bed, passing the flowers on your way to another day filled with distractions.

Since Victor chose Angie, his voice has been ever-present in your mind. It morphs daily; his simple answer of “Angie” becomes “I chose someone better” when you feel like you aren’t enough. Angie Knight was a part of Victor’s life, but he was yours. Or, at least, you thought he was. You had never worried about him finding someone better and leaving you, and it came out of nowhere, changing your life forever.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is taking you so long?” your best friend huffs, pushing your door open.

You stare at the flowers, and the pile of dead petals at the bottom of the glass directly mirrors your shattered heart.

“That boy did some damage.”

You shake your head, trying to be tough. “I don’t care. I’m completely fine.”

“Then why keep them?”

“Let’s call it a reminder of my past mistakes,” you answer, brushing past her as you struggle not to scream.

Your act that everything is fine, that you learned from the break-up and got over it quickly, is a failing façade. Under the fake walls you’ve built, you are utterly broken. The tough exterior hides the pain and tears threatening to spill over at any moment, but it doesn't make you feel any better. Victor made leaving you for Angie look easy, with no emotion in his voice as he said goodbye (though, you didn’t even get that, just "Angie"). If Victor made that look easy, you can make moving on look easy, even if it’s impossible.

Walking into the restaurant, you hope your friends celebrate the weekend without asking about your nightmares. You’ve regretted confiding that information to them since the night you called. You just didn’t want to feel alone, but the Victor-sized hole in your heart can’t be filled by gossip and perfume-coated hugs from girls who will never understand what you’re dealing with.

“How are you?” someone whispers.

You pick up your glass, taking a quick drink before raising it slightly.

“To cursed memories,” you say, deflecting from answering.

In your effort to forget him and block the memories out, Victor is the only thing on your mind. He never leaves, and for some forsaken reason, you don’t want him to.

“You should forgive him and forget him!” someone cheers.

“Then move on to the next!” your best friend adds.

Smiling, you wish you were strong enough to do that. Maybe desperation could force it, too, but you need Victor’s memory, or you’ll have nothing to live for.

✯✯✯✯✯

The first breath you take after getting in your car is cleansing. Your friends try to cheer you up and give decent advice, but it doesn’t help. Nothing short of finding out why Victor chose Angie will cure you.

Looking at your reflection in the rearview mirror, you go return to Lockland.

“I’m leaving. Angie.”

Right now, sitting in your car, you hate Victor, and you’re prepared to argue. It happens often: arguing with a ghost in your head, in your car, and in the mirror before bed.

There are hundreds of things you could have said instead of the tear-strained “Why?” you managed. When you picture winning, you lie about cheating on Victor or tell him you won’t miss him, anything to make him feel an ounce of the pain you did.

Winning in your mind is cathartic, especially when Victor falls to his knees, clutching your hands to his chest as he begs you not to go. Fantasising about when he’s sorry is fun at the moment, but when the nightmare returns and you remember the truth, it’s like you’re back in that moment.

There should have been a sign, a clue of some sort, that Victor was unhappy with you and looking for something new, different, or better. As you try to understand why he would do all this to you, you often wonder what you did to deserve it. Could you have saved everything by being less like yourself and more like Angie? Would calling Victor and telling him you loved him a few minutes earlier have changed anything? Victor had to have been unhappy and insecure, because you know in your heart that hurt people hurt people. Had you realized how hurt he was, you would have done everything in your power to heal him, to make him invincible.

“You hurt him too,” you whisper to yourself in the mirror.

It was never intentional, but Victor Vale was easy to hurt. You weren’t always there for him, didn’t notice when he needed to talk, or, evidently, when things were too much for him. You both drew blood, but those cuts were never equal. The scrapes you left on Victor will never hold a candle to the fatal stab wounds he gave you, and they still hurt.

✯✯✯✯✯

The flowers really need to be thrown away. Cleaning your room, you keep stopping to look at them. It’s been years, but moving on seems impossible. 

“Coming!” you yell, snapped out of your thoughts by a heavy-handed knock.

Opening the door, you freeze. You should slam it, throw the vase, do anything to keep space between you. But you can’t move.

“It’s been a while,” Victor says, his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. “I- I just needed to check on you.”

“You needed to check on me?” you repeat quietly, holding the doorknob with white knuckles as you look anywhere but at Victor’s face.

“A lot has happened, and Eli,” Victor begins, but you don’t want to hear it.

“So now I deserve your pity and care? Last I checked, I didn’t.”

“You- can I come in? For just a minute, and if you want me to leave after sixty seconds, I will.”

You clench your jaw as you step back, counting in your mind as he begins talking.

“Your flowers are dead,” he points out.

“Your flowers,” you correct.

“Mine- those are from ten years ago?”

“Yeah, apparently vitriol makes flowers live longer,” you snap. “You’re wasting your minute.”

Victor’s brows furrow as he says, “I tried to be there for you, but when everything happened-“

“You tried to be there for me? You built me up to watch me fall, Victor.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From what? You?”

“Yes!” Victor shouts, his hands raising and falling. “Look, everything fell apart, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I know that I should have gone about it better, but I was running out of time and your safety was more important than answers or explanations. That’s what I thought, at least.”

“You betrayed me for my safety. That’s an interesting approach, Victor,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You don’t believe me, I get it. But we were in Merit - for Eli - and things started looking better, and being this close? I couldn’t pass the chance to check on you.”

“We?”

Victor falters slightly before saying, “Yeah. My, uh, my friends Mitch and Sydney.”

You nod, glad that he has everything but wants more.

“Well, your minute has been up for a while, so you can go.”

Trying to be tough, to be mean, you’re disappointed when the comment doesn’t come out as sharply as you intended. You haven’t looked at Victor yet because your eyes will betray your emotions. They will show that you still love him.

“I know you don’t care, I guess that’s fine,” you add, walking toward the door.

“It takes strength to forgive, but I’m not sure we’re there yet,” Victor says, cutting you off.

“You moved on, Victor,” you reply, missing the flinch at your continued use of his full name. He wants to ask what happened to ‘Vic,’ but you continue, “How is Angie?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Victor’s eyes widen as he asks, “You think I left to be with Angie?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

“I left because I killed her.”

You fall silent, a wave of memories crashing over you. The EO topic was a joke as far as you were concerned, but it explains the sudden changes in Victor and Eli and their subsequent departures. Looking up at Victor, you remain in place, unmoving and failing to find something to say.

“Why’d you keep the flowers?” he asks, cutting through the tension.

He confessed something, so you decide it’s only fair to do the same. “Even after all this, you’re still everything to me, Vic,” you whisper.

Victor's shoulders fall slightly before he looks over your shoulder to the window behind your table. Hearing a giggle, you turn quickly and see a hand retract into the bushes outside as the dead flowers turn green, blooming again.

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 24

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 3,040 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23

Also on ff.net and AO3.

For the nights I won't make it through, I spend beside you, while holding onto your hand Telling me I will and I can, I pray every night that days like this will never end Painting colors vivid and bright I see every time I go ahead and close my eyes Just what should I do so everything remains the same?

-Kenshi Yonezu, "Eine Kleine"

————————–

Now.

Tim was bored.

The heat of midsummer had settled in, and things had gone back to… well, as “normal” as things could be for them, considering.  It had been a few months since Steph found out.  Since he’d said all those things to Bruce and walked away, never hearing from him since.  …Since he’d proposed.

Tim rolled over on the bed and buried his visage in a pillow in embarrassment, still hardly able to believe he let such a thing slip from his lips.  There was no taking it back now though, as Steph was keen on constantly reminding him in confidence, whenever they were alone.  …Still, they managed to keep up the appearance of “regular students” on the surface at least.  They – all four of them – made it through the rest of the semester, survived finals; even Steph and Conner successfully scraped by without requiring remedial lessons, thanks to intense tutoring combined with cramming in the last couple weeks.

The latter was now living with Cass in their own place, so that left Tim moving back to the loft by himself until fall.  Dick had warmly welcomed his brother back, saying his room was always available anytime he needed to crash, but Tim still couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding.  With little else to do to kill time during the dull season’s doldrums, he found most of his days were now spent looking (desperately) forward to a phone call or text message, inviting him to hang somewhere, or even simply just to talk.

…

He wanted to see Steph.

She had replied to him this morning though stating she was “busy” today, apologizing complete with cute emoticons.  …Or so he thought, but right at that moment his mobile buzzed again, and he greedily grabbed the device, scanning the screen for updates.  Apparently her plans had freed up for the afternoon, and she was wondering if he’d like to come over now.  Fist pumping, he fired back a rapid response, before dashing for the door – nearly bumping into his brother on the way out.

“Whoa, where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Just over to Steph’s house.”

“…Ah.”  Dick regarded him with an odd look for an interval.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just…  I wanted to say…”  Dick massaged his neck, before sighing.  “Nevermind.  It can wait.  Go, have fun on your date.”

Tim cocked his head in mystification, but nevertheless acquiesced.

“Okay…  See ya.”

“See ya.”

He cast one more curious look back as he descended the steps, and Dick simply smiled and waved.  …It might have been his imagination though, but the other’s expression seemed just a tad strained.

…

When he arrived and rang the doorbell, Stephanie’s mother was the one who answered.  Tim shuffled in the entryway as he greeted nervously, still self-conscious around her presence.

“Ah… Hi, Mrs. Brown.  Steph called and asked me to come over.”

“Of course, dear.”  The woman beamed as she stepped aside to allow him in.  “It’s always nice to have you here.  She’s right this way, in the kitchen.”

She led him towards the unit, which was strangely dark for some reason.  As soon as he entered the room though, the lights suddenly switched on, and three voices (well, more like two shouts and one mental whisper) all cried out in unison:

“Surprise!”

Tim blinked as he took in the image of Steph, Conner, and Cass all crowded around the table, where a large cake was laid out, confetti and streamers simultaneously raining from the ceiling onto his shoulders.

“What’s… all this?”

Stephanie bounded up to him, brushing colorful strands off his hair before planting a peck on his forehead (since she was already standing on tiptoe).

“Silly, don’t you know what today is?  Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Tim ran hastily over a list of important dates in his mind, trying to figure out what she could possibly be referring to.  It couldn’t be something related to their relationship, could it?  They hadn’t even been officially “dating” a full year yet, and besides why were Cass and Conner here then…?  It had to be something personal, something specific…

…Then it struck him.

July 19th.

His Birthday.

“Conner told me when your Birthday is.  You’re not… mad, are you?”

She gripped his hand, a little worriedly – and he glanced towards Kon, who was also anxiously awaiting a reaction.  He grasped back in reassurance.

“No, I’m not mad.  Thank you, for doing all this for me.”

Relieved, she steered him to a seat and gestured eagerly towards the candles.

“Come on now, make a wish.”

Tim thought about it for a bit.  …There were a lot of things he might’ve wished for, once.  But, gazing around at the smiling faces of his friends – people who cared about him – accepted him despite everything…  He realized that the thing he had dreamed of most since then had already come true.

…

Later, as Stephanie was serving slices and chatting up a storm, she casually turned her concentration to Conner as well.

“By the way, when’s your Birthday?”

Both boys stiffened, eyeing each other and the single elder in the room surreptitiously.  Although the revelation of Tim’s past had made it easier for the others to come forward with their secrets, Steph’s mother was the only one not in the know now.  Still, Stephanie’s question stood sincerely.  As far as her mom was concerned, all three of her daughter’s college-mates just so happened to be orphans from a young age, and she would ensure they each received proper loving attention and care while in her home.

“I… don’t actually know.”

Conner admitted, poking at the frosting with his fork, and both hosts’ hearts broke a little bit.

“You mean you’ve never even had a Birthday party?”

She shot a sharp glare towards Tim, who shrank into his chair.  Sympathy for his “circumstances” had run out by this point it seemed – at least when it came to ignoring others’ needs as a result.

“It’s okay, really.”  Conner hurriedly leapt to his pal’s defense.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal.”  She clenched her fist determinedly.  “We’ll just need to pick a date to celebrate then.”

“March 21st.”

Cassandra spoke up softly all of a sudden.  All four stared at her in surprise.

“Eh?  But that’s already passed!”

Cass fixated firmly on Conner though, and so Steph nodded.

“March 21st it is then.  We’ll just have to have a belated celebration.”  She enthused with a grin, growing more and more excited as she already began scheming, rubbing her hands together gleefully.  “And make it a big one.”

…

After the festivities died down and Cass and Conner had politely taken their leave for the evening – in order to give the pair of “lovebirds” some privacy – Steph ironically had to search the house for said lover/Birthday Boy, who had somehow managed to disappear during the farewells.  Scratching her skull in puzzlement, an idea eventually occurred to her, and she headed up to her bedroom, waltzing over to the open window and poking her head out.

“There you are.  Thought I might find you up here.”

She exclaimed upon twisting around to spot a familiar shadow crouched overhead.

“Guess you can’t keep a Robin off the roofs after all,” he shrugged.

“Or him from ninja-vanishing all of a sudden,” she rolled her irises, climbing out to come join him.  “Didn’t know ‘hide-and-seek’ was on the games roster for entertainment tonight.”

��I wasn’t… hiding,” he sulked, scooching aside to provide her space.  “I was just… remembering something.”

She scanned his hunched form, reaching out for his hand as she gently laid a palm on top, imbricating digits like the tiles beneath.

“Sorry.  Was it too much?”

“No, it’s not that.  Everything was great.  I really appreciate it.  It’s just…”  He exhaled, examining the stars above, half-envisioning witnessing a bat-shaped silhouette against the moon’s bright backdrop.  “Getting to wear the suit – officially – and go out on patrol for the first time was the first Birthday present Bruce ever gave me.  …The best, most awesome gift in the world, I thought.”

Her spirit sank again as she squeezed his fingers, and he shared the grip.

“For the longest time,” he continued spitefully, “I hated the fact I was even born.  I never even wanted to think about it anymore.  I mean, why the hell did God – or whoever – put me on this earth, just to take everything I ever loved away from me?  Hurt everyone I’ve come in contact with?  First my mom, then Dad, then the very thing I had worked so hard to achieve…”

His gorge corked with a wounded choke, capping speech.  Vision lowering, he rotated slowly towards Steph, who was watching him with wide, wet pupils, overflowing with compassion and concern.  At length, he managed a comforting smile.

“But, for the first time since then – I’m glad I was born.  …Because I got to meet you.”

She beamed back, and flung her arms around him in an abrupt embrace, nearly knocking him off-balance just like a certain someone did all those years ago.

“Hey, careful!  Or we’ll both fall.”

“Please.  It’s not like we can fall any further than we already have, right?  That means things can only start looking up from now on.”  (…And besides, if they did fall, at least they’d fall together.)

Tim couldn’t help but chuckle mildly, reciprocating the gesture.

“Man, where do you get all that optimism from?”

“Definitely not my father,” she retorted, snorting.  “I only inherited his hair.”

She leaned those golden locks against his breast, closing her eyes as she listened to his heartrate, confirming that there was, indeed, a life still beating inside there.  A life she promised to treasure from now on, honor and protect no matter what – even if the rest of the world had forsaken it.  A life that deserved to live.  …And to love.

“By the way, that reminds me – I still haven’t given you your Birthday kiss yet.”

“Eh?”

She grinned, and clutched his T-shirt collar, pulling him down into a powerful, passionate kiss – nearly a minute long.  At first he seemed to awkwardly ache to avert away as usual, but after the first thirty seconds his brain just went totally blank as he stopped flailing and let her keep going, melting into her mouth.  She smirked inwardly in satisfaction, aware this could probably be considered more of an assau- er, “present” to herself; a “reward” for all her patience.  Knowing he’d never actually take this kind of forward initiative on his own unless she prompted him.

As they separated at last, Tim gaped at her in marvel, still reeling.

“Holy cow.”

“Some present?”

Perhaps she couldn’t compete with costumes and crimebusting, but she did take pride in being able to render him speechless at least.

“I, uh- wow.”

Stephanie giggled as she jabbed a teasing poke at his chest.

“Congrats, you’re a real man now.  Which means you’ll take responsibility, right?”

“Yeah…  Wait, what just happened?”

Steph could hardly suppress her snickers as it seemed her poor “prey” had lost all capacity for reason – in essence mentally regressing to a shutdown state, even though he was supposed to be a fully trained “detective”.  …Her laughter faded though as a vision of said “victim” – mute and confused – crossed her consciousness, and a gnawing sense of guilt for letting her selfish impulse run rampant overtook her conscience instead.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to force you…  I’m not trying to put pressure on you or anything…”

Detecting her regret, Tim shook his head.

“No, no, it’s okay.  I don’t mind.  I… like that spontaneous side of you.  Besides,” he scratched his scruff sheepishly, recalling his own rash declaration of devotion, “…We’ve been doing this all out of order anyway.  And, to be honest, I’m kinda relieved you took the next step.  I know you’ve been trying to be considerate, but… You don’t always have to hold yourself back around me either.  I told you, I’m not a kid – so you don’t have to keep treating me like one.”

She relaxed as he clasped her wrist consolingly, standing up with a wink.

“Even so, I doubt my mother would approve of us staying up here and making out all night.  Come on then, Boy- sorry, Man Virgin, let’s get back inside.  Before Mom sees us together up here and throws a fit.”

…

When Tim returned to the loft, he could hear the T.V. on upstairs.  Checking his watch, he was rather impressed that his brother wasn’t already out at some bar right now.  Tiptoeing up to the higher level, Dick swiftly swiveled around upon perceiving his passage, shutting off the box before his lil bro could see.

“Oh hey, you’re back.  Didn’t hear you come in, you’re getting pretty good at that stealth thing again.  Have you been practicing?” he babbled, clicking his teeth in commendation, but seeming extremely tense for some reason.

A shrug.  “Just a bit, I guess.”

“So, uh, how was the party?”

Tim startled.  “You knew about it?”

“Conner called and told me beforehand,” he confessed, “just in case anything went… unexpected.”

It was then that Tim noted the number of alcohol canisters on the table…  Yet none of them seemed actually opened.  The keys to the cycle were also laid out beside them, and Dick’s eye flicked towards the target of Tim’s sight, attempting not-so-subtly to retrieve and replace them back in his pocket.

“…You could’ve come too, you know.”

“Nah, figured you’d probably want to spend it with your friends.  …I got you something though.”  He fished for a small, square package, thinly wrapped.  “I know you don’t usually like to celebrate, but I figured it’s as good an opportunity as any to give you this.  …Happy Birthday, Tim.”

Tim bewildered as Dick handed him the packet, and he tore it open cautiously to reveal a CD case – the very same one he had broken back in autumn.

“This is…  How did you find this?  I looked everywhere online to try and get you another, but they were all out of printed stock, and no one else was selling it – not even in digital format for download…  Plus, you should be the one to have this…”

“I have my resources,” Dick murmured mysteriously.  “Anyway, don’t even try to give it back to me.  Keep it, it’s yours.”

Tim swallowed, but gratefully received the gift.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.  What are big brothers for?  Although…”  Dick’s tenor lessened a little.  “I guess you don’t really need me to look after you anymore.  I mean, you’re practically an adult now.  With a fiancé and everything.”

Tim blushed as his inescapable humiliation was once again brought up.  He was never going to live this one down, was he?

“Look, that was just something I blurted out in the heat of the moment.  You don’t… need to take it too seriously.”

“Are you kidding, you two are gonna make a great husband and wife couple.”  Grayson gleamed, goadingly nudging an elbow into rather conveniently located ribs.  “You’ll get married, move out, and have a bunch of adorable ickle egghead kiddies so their Unkie Dick can spoil them rotten.”

“Oh my God, stop.”

Tim’s complexion flushed a full tomato tone as he punched insistently at Dick’s shoulder.  The older male kept sniggering despite the pain though, and as revenge, Tim snatched the remote from the sofa.  Dick’s eye enlarged in alarm as he endeavored to wrest it back, but Tim triumphantly held it out of his range, possessing the current high ground advantage.

“So what were you watching before I came in anyway?  I bet it was something really dirty…”

He mused mockingly as he turned on the tube again, aiming to find out just what the guy had been hiding – figuring it was probably porn or some shit.

The footage that flickered on wasn’t what he anticipated though – it was an old, black and white film.  A young man and woman were singing together (horribly out-of-tune) amidst hydrangea bushes, the latter dressed in what appeared to be some kind of bathrobe.

“What is it you want, Mary?  What do you want?  You want the moon?  Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.  Hey.  That's a pretty good idea.  I'll give you the moon, Mary.”

“…It’s a Wonderful Life?”  Tim raised an astonished eyebrow.  “In the middle of summer?”

“You’ve seen it?”

Dick rejoined, equally amazed.

“Bruce always made me watch it with him on Christmas.”

“…Did he really now.”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of brief silence between them, as an old man on the monitor berated the boy for his woeful efforts at wooing.

“Why don't you kiss her instead of talking her to death?”

“Want me to kiss her, huh?”

“Ah, youth is wasted on the wrong people!”

Tim finally cleared his throat.

“…You mind if I join you?”

“You sure?”

Dick glimpsed uneasily at the monochrome motion picture.

“Yeah.  It’s fine.  …It’s a good flick.”

Tim came around the couch as Dick obligingly shifted over to offer a spot on the cushions.  He also picked up a can and passed it towards Tim.

“You… do realize I’m still underage, right?”

“Consider it an advance on your next couple Birthdays.”

Tim took it, and the two concurrently cracked open their drinks and downed a shot.  Dick looked down at the remaining liquid, swirling sullenly.

“You know, Christmas was kinda lonely this year.”

“You mean you didn’t bring some chick back to your place?”

“Nah.  Didn’t seem like the right mood.”

Tim studied him for an extensive interim.

“I hope you know…  No matter what, you can always think of the two of us as family.”

Dick’s lid batted once as he heard his own words echoed back at him, followed by a light thump on his backside.

“Us guys, we gotta stick together, right?”

Dick lifted, and radiated wryly as he ruffled his younger sibling’s scalp.

“Heh.  You really have grown up, haven’t you, huh?”

Tim smiled back, and hoisted his beverage, connecting to his comrade’s with a clink.

“Here’s to survival, old chum.”

————————–

In the moment I was born, I wouldn't stop screaming Saying that I wanted to fade away and disappear Ever since the day I stopped, I had always been searching, For the one I'd someday meet, For the you that has to leave With this endless pain in my heart, tearing me apart, but also you beside me Can't you see how happy I'd be? I'd smile and I'd say, "It was all for the best you see" As the world in front of me melts and fades away, I only have one thing to say: These miracles flooding me won't make it go away Because I can still hear your voice calling out my name

[thatartiststudios]

Just finished Chapter 4 of my fic, but for now, here's the first snippet of Chapter 2

As Leo led the group on a tour of the Argo II, they arrived at the section where the rooms were located. The rooms were comfortable and spacious, each one tailored to meet the needs of its potential occupants. As Leo showcased the first room, Rayla’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wait a minute,” Rayla said, her voice filled with astonishment as she stepped into the room, her eyes fixed on an elegant weapon stand. There, mounted in a place of honor, was her Bowblade, its moonlit metal gleaming softly in the room’s ambient light. She reached out, her fingers brushing the familiar contours of the weapon.

“How is this possible? I didn’t have this with me when we were knocked into the rift.”

Across the hallway, Callum’s eyes widened in a similar mixture of surprise and confusion. Inside the second room, his mage staff stood tall, leaning against the wall as if it had always belonged there.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he said, his voice echoing Rayla’s disbelief. “I left my staff in my High Mage’s office. How did it end up here?”

Carter furrowed his brow in thought.

“Maybe The Collector somehow brought them here, in case they were needed,” he suggested, his tone laced with uncertainty. “But I can’t imagine how that’s possible. It’s like they just... appeared.”

The others exchanged bewildered glances, the impossibility of the situation hanging in the air like a lingering mystery. The presence of their cherished weapons raised questions that seemed to have no logical answers. It was a peculiar puzzle, one that added yet another layer of enigma to the challenges they were about to face.

As they continued their exploration of the ship, the unspoken question remained: How had their weapons arrived here, defying the laws of reality? The Collector’s influence seemed to stretch beyond what anyone could comprehend, leaving them with a profound sense of unease as they grappled with the inexplicable events unfolding around them.

The meeting room exuded warmth and welcome, its ambiance enhanced by the soft glow of lamps that cast a gentle light across the polished wooden table. Around this table, the group gathered, their faces illuminated by the subtle luminosity, a diverse assembly united by fate and The Collector’s enigmatic challenge.

As they settled into their seats, Leo initiated the discussion, outlining the ship’s functionalities. Laughter and friendly banter filled the air as they exchanged stories, sharing intricate details about their respective worlds.

Jason, Piper, and Leo reminisced about Camp Half-Blood, sharing tales of mythical creatures and the strong camaraderie among demigods, including their recent mission to vanquish the earth mother, Gaea and ending the rivalry between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter.

Carter and Sadie, with their magical exploits, told intricate narratives of adventures with Egyptian gods and goddesses as well as the task of training an entire group of initiates in the 21st Nome in Brooklyn.

Callum and Rayla described the wonders of Xadia, painting vivid images of the challenges they faced, the extraordinary beings they encountered, including Rex Igneous and The Dragon Queen. While they touched briefly on Aaravos, they kept the conversation surface-level. Delving deeper into that dark chapter was a topic reserved for another time, a time when wounds were less raw.

However, amidst the jovial conversation, a shadow eclipsed Rayla’s eyes. Sadie’s accent, reminiscent of her mentor and surrogate father Runaan’s voice, stirred a deep melancholy within her. Merely months ago, they had liberated him and her biological parents from the magical coins that had imprisoned them for years. Now, she found herself leaving them again, and the weight of this separation burdened her heart.

Callum, ever perceptive, sensed her distress.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, I just…” She rose quietly from her chair. “I need a moment; the rest of you can continue the meeting.” Rayla’s voice caught in her throat as she made her way up on deck, her steps echoing in the empty corridors.

She needed a solitary moment to grapple with her emotions.

The room fell silent, a brief pause before Jason spoke up.

“Is… she going to be okay?” he asked cautiously.

Callum looked down, immediately understanding Rayla’s emotional turmoil.

“I– I think it’s your accent, Sadie,” he explained, glancing at the younger Kane sister. “I know you mentioned it’s because you grew up in England, but where we come from, different types of elves have distinctive accents. Yours is remarkably similar to her father’s.”

Sadie blinked, absorbing the revelation.

“Oh,” was all she managed, unsure of what more to say.

“Well, not her biological father,” Callum clarified, “but one of the elves who raised her while her parents fulfilled their duty as Dragonguard for The Dragon Queen. Just less than a year ago, we managed to free all three of them from some Dark Magic prison of sorts. I think Rayla is just apprehensive about leaving them again.”

Understanding dawned on the faces of the others; the explanation provided clarity to Rayla’s sudden departure.

Callum stood, intending to follow Rayla, but Leo’s voice halted him.

“Callum, didn’t Rayla suggest we continue?” Leo questioned.

Callum met Leo’s gaze for a moment before decisively making his way up on deck, his concern for Rayla propelling him forward.

He found her leaning over the railing, her white hair shimmering like strands of silver in the moonlight. Concern etched his features as he approached her.

“You didn’t have to follow me,” Rayla said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her thoughts.

Callum shrugged, a warm smile on his lips. “I know, but I wanted to. Are you okay?”

She turned to him, her eyes, once filled with determination, now clouded with worry.

“Callum,” she began, her voice hesitant, “it’s just... I can’t help but think of Runaan. Hearing Sadie’s voice, it’s like a haunting echo of him. We’ve only just freed him, and now I’m leaving him again. And my parents... I haven’t even spent enough time with them to truly understand what it means to have a family again. And what if we fail? What if we can’t get back home?”

Callum listened, his expression one of deep empathy, as Rayla poured out her fears, her voice carrying the weight of her burdens. He reached out and gently took both of her hands, his touch grounding her in the present moment.

“Rayla,” he said, his tone unwavering, “I understand your fears, I really do. But you’re stronger than you think. You’ve faced incredible challenges, and you’ve come through every time. And you’re not alone in this. We have each other, and together, we can overcome anything.”

Rayla looked into his eyes, seeing not just reassurance but a profound understanding of her struggles. The vulnerability in her gaze mirrored his own, forging a connection that went beyond mere words.

“But… what if I’m not strong enough?” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustle of the night breeze.

Callum smiled gently, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles as he spoke. “Ray, strength isn’t about never being afraid. It’s about facing your fears and pressing on, even when it feels impossible. And you, my A mhuirnín, are the bravest person I know. I believe in you, Rayla, even when you doubt yourself.”

Her eyes softened, touched by his unwavering faith in her. In that moment, the stars above seemed to twinkle with a promise of hope. She leaned against him, her head resting on his chest, finding solace in his presence.

“Thank you, Callum,” she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

“Nothing to thank me for, love.”

They stood there, under the canvas of stars, their worries momentarily forgotten. The night seemed to hold its breath, the world quiet and still around them. In each other’s arms, they found comfort, their shared vulnerabilities creating a bond that no challenge could break. Together, they gazed at the stars, the vastness of the universe reminding them of the endless possibilities that awaited them.

Next Part

Quick authors note: I got the idea for the nickname A mhuirnín from Noodlandia's fic "Battle Scars" on AO3, I thought it was adorable and had to use it but wanted to give them credit.

Here's the link to it so you can check it out if you want.

[texshire-books]

Chosen by Sadie Stern - an excerpt.

Fiona

I can’t believe I’m masturbating. While that act is not unusual for me, what is unusual are the circumstances which have taken my hand between my legs tonight and compelled me to run my fingers through its slippery folds and rub myself to climax. Normally, I’d watch porn, sometimes a passage within a book will turn me on so much, the inevitable journey of my hands in a downward direction is the only end result. Never before have I felt this need after just a brief chance encounter with someone who has made an impression of seismic proportion. As I continue to rub myself, I’m thinking back to that moment earlier. I was visiting a new bookstore in town. Some might smile at my description. It’s just called Heaven and for some, certainly not all, that is precisely what it is. The windows are plain. Opaque coverings inside mask its contents. Most bookstores place their wares in full view, after all, what is a book store without…… books? Now we are down to semantics; the study of meaning. Inside, some might argue over genre, even content. The books and magazines on sale in Heaven are not for everyone and those I have purchased have been the normal material for the purpose of masturbation.

I was leaving. Unusually I’d not seen anything to rouse my ardour. My period was due and while I became horny over the week that followed, it was the days preceding that took the spring out of my step. I reached the door which opened just as I arrived. That was when I saw her. I looked up and there she was. Tall, five ten in her heels. Dark haired and sultry, elegant in a way that only good breeding can achieve. High class and obviously well connected. So why is she entering Heaven, hardly Waterstones, this a down market, seedy book joint favoured mostly by men seeking good wanking material for later. Our eyes met. Hers were a vivid green, like a cat. She smiled as those same eyes bored into mine, then her pink tongue appeared and ran itself along her top lip. She slowly nodded too, she approved of what she could see. I shivered as I realised, she had licked her lips, just as anyone would having savoured a juicy raw steak and wondered how long she dare place it under the grill before it was served up on a plate ready for a welcoming mouth. I had a place for that mouth and especially a searching tongue. That place was wet already from my searching of a different sort, words meant to arouse and those lay behind me in their millions as I stepped out of the bookshop and maintaining eye contact throughout.

She slid past, moving in the opposite direction. Within seconds the door would close and the same window coverings which also extended to the door would block her out of my view. She’d be gone, what then? I turned and looked while the door slowly closed; one last smile and the briefest of flicks of pinkness from what I imagined was a probing tongue. Then she really was gone. What now, I could hang around like a lost puppy. A stray? Wait to have a collar placed around my neck and be led home? I laughed, that only happened in the books I liked to read. My name is Fiona Jones, I am submissive. I am lesbian too; I’m twenty-one years of age and I have recently graduated from university. I’d love to stay and see what happened when the door opened and she re-emerged. I wondered if she’d carry a bag, whose weight would determine how many books she had purchased. The question would be, which books? I couldn’t stay, I had an interview the following day and I needed to prepare. I was highly aroused now, my panties, if you could call what a wore by that name, were sodden and these needed replacing too. I’d have the irresistible urge to masturbate but I’d leave that until bedtime when I could get my box of toys working. Thankfully I kept a good supply of batteries in the same box and tonight I knew they would be put to good use.

I’d seen the advertisement for a personal assistant in a magazine. It was a graphic design business and its chief executive Ginevra Calivari was seeking a new personal assistant. I was puzzled by the type of magazine her company, Unique had placed its advert, it suggested its intention was to find someone with a certain je ne sais quoi? Did I have that certain undefinable quality? I wrote off more in hope than expectation. A recent photo was required and I had one taken by a friend when I had attended a final graduation party which certainly met the required timescales. I guess I can best be described as chic, tiny and with elfin features framed by a short boyish hairstyle which suited my blonde hair. I wore a party dress which ended well above the knee. Much further and I might have exposed too much. You see, that dress was all I wore! I can’t believe it even now, I’d been selected, short listed for interview and it was tomorrow!

I’m in bed now and those mysterious green eyes are plaguing my thinking. My hand is in its normal place, my fingers working their magic between my legs. I’m wet, when am I ever not wet. I’ve always been highly sexual. From the earliest of age, I’d placed a mirror, propped against my headboard and I’d lain on my back with my knees raised and my legs well apart. I was fascinated by my split, hairless mound. I knew my pink lips spilled out without any assistance. But I’d pull back my folds and expose its pink sodden contents. Even at eight I’d get wet and I quickly found where to rub and create an extraordinary sensation. Who knows what a climax is at that age? I did! I saw this pink bud peering out of its hooded protective hiding place. I wondered what it was? I soon found out the moment I touched it. I found this almost electric shiver run up my spine which stopped immediately I removed my finger from its tip. Rubbing it and encircling it brought on another feeling altogether. I’d watched my mother cook; she said milk had to be watched intently and as it rose up the side of the pan, the trick was to take it off the heat to prevent it spilling over. I soon learned to tease myself, prolong that moment. I now know the term edging describes this. Then, when I knew the inevitable result of continuing would create a messy explosion, I’d stop and start again. My mother took me to the doctor concerned I’d developed late-stage bed wetting but I knew different. I learned to take a towel to bed and I was suddenly cured of my affliction.

My mirror exploration didn’t stop at my clitoris. I now know its name of course. I looked at its depths; there was a void which begged its own exploration and it was certainly getting plenty tonight as I worked my new phallic object in and out. In my early exploration I found another place too if I lifted my bottom higher and parted my cheeks. This was pink too but something considered a rather forbidden place. Wasn’t that it’s appeal though? Didn’t everyone go and see, even enter a place forbidden entry? I knew then I could only be attracted to such anatomy. I learned at convent school that boys were different. I learned a lot about sin, sinful actions, and especially sinful thoughts. I was in the shower one day and a girl stood nearby. I reached out and touched her. She screamed and the consequences were dramatic. I found myself held over a desk later a nun holding my wrists while another crouched down and held my ankles. My bottom was bared and I bit my lip and refused to scream while a thick strap was applied multiple times to my bottom. Later, another sin as a masturbated in bed, my still warm bottom signalling another pleasure had been discovered - pain!

[magickhajiit]

Sokovia and Spiders Chapter 3

Warnings- some graphic description of violence

Rating- teen and up audiences

previous chapters all stories

a03 link wattpad link quotev link

The images are grainy, but the costumes are obnoxious enough to recognise purely by a few flashes of vivid colour and glimpses of logos. Red and blue swipe across the screen, pulled along by pale webs. Spiderman ricochets from wall to wall, the reason for his haste becomes apparent as it flies right behind him, gold and red suit glinting in the distance. The video had been swiped off a deli’s CCTV cameras and posted online. It only lasts thirty or so seconds. What exactly happened in the end the public doesn’t yet know.   

The video plays on phone hovering above a young women’s chest, an orange hue emitting from it. A spiralling crack separates the screen, and the cover’s packed with cards, each one for a different alias. She’s lazed on an old sofa, avoiding the bare springs that have erupted from the stuffing, with one foot skimming the shabby red carpet.  A mesh of mismatch furniture and mismatch mutants fill the safe house. The Rogue Marauders built the house shortly after their beginning, a bolt hole for any members attempting to bring mutants to safety. With the passing of the Mutant Registration Act hanging over their head it’s a welcome refuge. Right now, there seven children in the house waiting to be taken to a better future.   

With the video’s release there comes an inevitable end to the secret. The feral cat has been yanked from the metaphorical bag. When the Sokovia Accords were passed, the superhero world was divided down the middle, teams like the avengers ripped apart. Now the government is finally hunting down the unregistered, neighbourhood heroes. It made sense for the first victim to be Spiderman. He was the archetype of what a hero should be. Hunting him sent a message to every other cape, ‘fall in line or suffer the consequences.’  

Red light fills the gap beneath the door, spilling into her room in the process. ‘’Dinners ready, Candace.’’ The glow fades only to flash again, signalling the speaker’s departure. Antony had come to her room, he was a child teleporter, appearing suddenly and leaving those around him with blue spots dancing in front of their eyes. Eyes still glued to the grainy footage Candace doesn’t see the figure at the window as she gets up. He’s wearing all black, night vision googles over his eyes and a radio strapped to his vest. Shield’s logo stitched proudly onto his arm.   

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

Miles away the same video plays on a sleek iPhone, it’s paused just at the moment before Spiderman creeps out of the shot. Stark had been the one to revamp the images, zooming in and reconstructing each piece of it until the obscure image turned sharp. If he was interested, he could zoom in and see each microfibre of his red and blue suit. But Stark’s too engrossed in the small metal mechanism strapped to his wrist, a web shooter. Before this the general consensus was that he produced the webs himself, now they know that’s not the case and Clint owes him fifty.  

Speaking of Clint, he’s waiting by the lift to the top floor on the helicarrier , back leaning against the banal wall; sunglasses on in an attempt to cover the bruises blooming next to his eye. His posture’s stiff probably as a result of being kicked across an alleyway. Stark can only imagine he’s a kaleidoscopic of purple and blue under his vest.  Flashing his phone at Clint, Starks says, ‘’You’ve heard about the video, right? The one I emailed you.’’ He doesn’t wait for his answer, pressing the lift’s button, the words continue to flow, ‘’It’s got half a million views already. There’s no taking that back. The press is going to have a field day.’’  A small ding signals the lift’s return, walking in Hawkeye finally replies, ‘’Hill showed me. I don’t check my email.’’   

‘’Course you don’t.’’   

‘’Has the MR Act been passed.’’  

‘’Just this morning. The press were meant to be releasing the news today, but this has grabbed their attention instead. I’ve got an interview with sally ccgu tonight.’’  

The lift doors opens onto a empty hallway. There’s no windows to break up the monotony of grey steel panels lining the walls. The floor is made of similar material, only the Sheild emblem is stamped across it. Straight ahead of them black double doors sit, the nametag just visible at that distance: Director Hill.  

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

They came through the bedroom windows first. Shards of glass are sprinkled across the carpet as they swing in on ropes, like special force agents in an action movie. Making their way downstairs they pick off the mutants one by one, moving in sync. The guns shoot blue tranquilizers, a recent invention of Sheild Technology, rather than real bullets. So, the soldiers are planning on taking them to either prison 42 or the raft. Both outcomes feel worse than death.  

Candace ran to the stairway when she heard glass shattering, glancing up the barrel of a gun greets her. In the possession of an agent, his face contorted into an animalistic snarl, he’s got a white knuckled grip on the machine when he jabs it toward her, the unspoken threat clear.  With the weapon aimed at her chest, Candace uses her power.   

Creeping into someone's mind is as difficult as it is rewarding, especially when the individual isn’t looking for a mental visitor. Really, it’s like opening up a stubborn jar of jam, only banging their heads against a countertop doesn’t have the same success rate. It’s a delicate process. Whenever she can get inside, the brain always feels overflowing, humming with electric. In her mind Candace pictures a computer stuffed with different coloured wires, each ensuring a process is carried out; breathing, talking, pointing a gun.   

Sometimes she imagines what she could do with practise. Pull on the metaphorical wire that regulates breathing and watch how they crumble before her. Maybe it’s an overactive imagination but she could swear the cross around her neck burns in the rare times she has those thoughts. And even if she wanted to, she was no Professor X. Instead, she yanks an orange one, the soldier's hands go slack, the gun dropping. Concentrating again, sweat begins to gather at Candace’s temple, the gun moves around the butt of it now facing her. The man drops when she fires, blue veins visible in his face, the tranquilizer taking immediate effect.   

His anonymity was secured with the visor covering his eyes, flicking her wrist Candace rips it off. Diving into his head once more, she routes around for his most recent memories, trying the find their plan of action. Instead, the imagery of grey men in grey suits, sat a grey long table, greets her. She sees the moment from the side, like a guard on watch. Papers are pushed around the table, from the high angle she can see the words boldly printed, the typeface understated and as bleak as its meaning. The Mutant Registration Act.  

When they sign the papers, she tries to rush forward, only to find herself frozen in place, stranded in a foreign body, seeing the world from a stranger’s eyes.  She’s not recalling the memories, she's living them. She can feel everything from the chill in the room’s air to the hollowness in the man’s chest, an empty cavern where emotion should live.   

The visions rush toward her, the movements within them become frantic, like a tape on rewind. Somehow she knows this memory is in the past, though old memories usually feel stale and hazy this is as clear as glass. But there’s something artificial about it.   

In the background an instinctual piece of her brain tells her to let go, reminding her physically she’s in a house of intruders. But the memories dig their claws in when she tries to break free, she’s trapped in his mind.  A white room appears next, like all colour has bled from it. Men stand at attention within in, their uniforms dark and pristine.   

She sees this room from a stage before them. And when she focuses on their faces she can tell these are not normal men. They have the same sloping noses, olive skin tone, their ebony hair is cut to the scalp, each one was clean shaven. Finally, the same eyes watch her, unnatural, pure white eyes. The men were frightenliy the same. Clones is the only word that comes to mind when she sees them.   

Then their connection is cut. In the physical world a blue dart strikes between her shoulder blades. Behind her stands a man, his sloping nose and olive complexion lost behind black fabric. He made his move in a critical moment. Had Candace had the chance to glance behind her in the last vision she would have seen the great genius himself observing his creation, Tony Stark. A man determined to win the war. At any cost.  

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

Dear Sir/Madame,  

                              Operational Black Bird commenced at 03:00 AM ( time) on June 24th. Following the asignment’s directions, Shadow Unit 06 breached the north side of the building at exactly 03:07 AM.   

After the breach nine to eleven suspects were spotted fleeing the scene. Five enhanced individuals have been apprehended by our agents using minimal combative force, the group including four enhanced minors. (Further profile information is attached.)     

In accordance with the Sokovia Accords, paragraph nine, the adult enhanced (M.CODE:73928) has been transferred from the regional shield holding facility to the Project Control building where they are currently waiting for evaluation before they stand trial. The minors have been transferred to New York's Government Sanctuary, as stated in the Mutant Registration Act, where they are awaiting assessment. Currently, the received intel indicates there were minor injuries and no fatalities obtained during the process.   

Furthermore, as of this email being sent, there have been no official sightings of the known resistance members, their whereabouts remain unknown. Though unconfirmed sightings have been reported from Brooklyn.  

Sincerely,  

Agent Ward 

[solar--system]

⚠️TW Suicidal Ideation and Drug Use⚠️

2 years ago today we tried LSD or Acid for the first time.

After living with our older brother for a couple weeks, he began introducing us to his life style: drugs and alcohol.

We didn’t ever drink much. Maybe a drink or two a night or every couple nights. If even.

Smoking was weird at first. We felt heavy. Weighed down. We couldn’t speak. Barely could think. The experience wasn’t pleasant, yet besides the uncomfortable feeling in our lungs, the experience wasn’t bad either.

But acid was different. Weed we had considered trying, actually had experimented with a bit on our own, but we never thought about experimenting with drugs beyond that. We knew that our brother used hard drugs at one point.

A memory of our parents coming home in a panic because they had to call the police on our brother after he and his girlfriend had a bad trip.

But I never considered that he’d offer us anything harder then weed. He’d cut back from all the drugs he had used to do, and as I thought this was one of the only things he hadn’t stopped. He never would quit smoking weed.

He had pulled this container out of the freezer. And then there was this little square sheet of paper he was handing me, a tab maybe two. He directed us on how to take it. Leaving the tab(s) under our tongue as we waited for the okay to swallow, was difficult. Especially when you’re drinking, and talking.

The world became fuzzy. Warm. I was solid and the world formed around me. Colors were bright and beautiful. It was easy to get sucked into something, yet just as easy to be distracted. I wasn’t really thirst. Surprisingly I still had some appetite, which our brother pointed out as strange.

We watched cartoons. Family guy, Rick and Morty, South Park, The Simpson, American Dad, Futurauma. All of which I could enjoy, except I found the Simpson to be boring, as an episode would start on the track of plot A and find itself somewhere in plot Z. And the connection between the two took actual focus to trace. The worst of the shows we’d watch was called SuperJail. Our brother claimed it was one of his favorite shows to watch while he was tripping, and I can partially understand. All the colors are super vivid, and the show was laced with comedy that I never found funny. Besides the humor I couldn’t stand the sheer amount of gore in each episode. Gore and death followed by more gore and more death and then their world moves on as normal. Probably the second or third shittiest thing about tripping.

The second worst thing, possibly the first, had to do with those glue fly traps that hang from the ceiling. Summer had recently ended, and my brother’s place was filled with those fly traps. Kinda gross in general, but when your mind is crossing wires and playing with your imagination, it’s much worse. I don’t even remember why they bothered me, but I spent a good chunk of time (at this point I really didn’t have a sense of time) sitting in my brothers bathroom staring down one of those flytraps. It was like the flys were still alive on the trap with the way our brain made it buzz. The next time I tried acid, we made sure to remove the fly traps beforehand.

And the worst thing about my trip, had to do with coming down. From the few trips I’ve had between now and then I learned I am not good at coming down. My brother tried to get me to sleep off the last of the high, which is what he and his wife did. But I couldn’t sleep. The world existed and I had the energy to exist with it. Often times our brother would find us curled under some heavy blanket, watching something on our phone, wide awake at 6 in the morning, clearly still not all there. Eventually he’d talk me into trying to sleep, and again eventually I would.

The first trip was the worst when it came time to come down though. Our brother and his wife had gone to bed, and I knew I should as well, yet I was awake, how were they tired? We pulled out our phone and started watching YouTube videos. Mostly Markiplier videos, ones we’d already seen before but that brought us back to a happy place. With time though, we moved to children’s sensory videos.

I don’t know what video we watched or even how we found it, but the screen was black as puffs of vibrant color swam through the void. The video often had three different colors moving against one another. And that caused my brain to jumpstart.

Three colors. Three brothers. We identified my brothers as well as ourself with the colors. And thought more about each person and how we related to one another.

Three colors. Three depressed brothers. Our depression came about in different ways, at different times, for different reasons, and the ways we handled our depression worked in a similar sense.

Our older brother more often then not expressed himself with anger. Yelling, punching, breaking things, insulting others. Yet he also shared stories with me as I struggled about his self harm and how broken and hurt he had been. This wasn’t a version of our brother we’d ever met, yet he felt just as familiar. He found his depression managed with drugs. When life got him down, he found an excuse to get himself high.

We expressed ourselves through tears and silence. The world was mean and scary and we couldn’t deal with the idea of someone hating us. Even having negative feelings about us was something we feared silently, making a point to judge how someone spoke with us, the way they moved around us, what conversations they’d avoid or pursue when around us. We hadn’t found a solution to our depression, but we knew of a couple options.

Finally our younger brother, he expressed himself quietly. It broke my heart the first time I noticed. He wouldn’t allow himself to cry, because he was worried about being punished for the act. Instead he’d hide himself away in his room and not discuss his feelings. Seeing him pull away like that, like we would, hurt. He will always be our baby brother. Cherished in a special place in our heart. And he was hurting like we were. Clearly he had not found a cure for his depression yet.

Three colors. Three depressed brothers. Three ways out of depression. Our brain convinced us. There were only three ways a person could beat depression, and the first option was already taken off the table. Drugs. Our older brother had used drugs to pull himself away from his depression and to an extent it probably worked.

Option two was healthy. Self betterment. Seek help, go to therapy, take meds when needed, exercise, drink water, eat. Depression didn’t have to win. The harder depression knocks you down, the harder you gotta pull yourself back up, until depression can no longer knock you down.

Option three was less healthy. Death.

Three colors. Three depressed brothers. Three ways out of depression.

Each brother was different with their depression and how they expressed it. Each brother would need a different cure to fix their depression. Our older brother had already taken the drugs path, which left two brothers and two roads.

Ourself and our younger brother who we adored.

Self betterment and death.

With the options placed before us, we had no choice. There was no way we could live in a world without our younger brother. We’d chose death, so that he wouldn’t have to.

The colors continued to move. They had never stopped. Egging on the ideas of our imagination as if it was a fun puzzle and not a grueling realization.

The reason we don’t say this was the absolute worst part of tripping, is because it never felt like a terrifying drug riddled mental break. It felt and still feels like fact when we think back on it. I know it’s not...

By this point the sun was rising, and our brother had pulled himself from his slumber, never one to sleep a lot. We sat and talked after he encouraged me to try and sleep. I did try and sleep a couple times with unsuccessful results. I’m pretty certain I didn’t even manage an hour of sleep.

We had plans that day, so instead of continuing the cycle of trying and failing to sleep, I got up and took a shower.

The night before while tripping we had decided that the jewelry in our piercings was uncomfortable, and removed all of it from the body’s face. Some of our piercings were still semi fairly fresh, at least fresh enough for us not to be comfortable leaving jewelry our overnight. It was a struggle to get the curved barbell back into our vertical labret, and after struggling with the piercing, using a mirror to help, pushing and wiggling the jewelry, and applying a hot compress, we eventually got it back in. (It should be fully healed by now but I would still be nervous about taking it out overnight.)

But the real kicker is: We would do it all over again. We want to do it again. I can’t explain why, there’s just an ache in our jaw, a shiver down our spin, energy flooding our body whenever we consider tripping again. Maybe it has more to deal with the addictive personality that lingers between our system.

Anyways remember kids. Drugs are bad. Don’t do drugs or colors will convince you of evil things.

[abnormaldemigod]

Do I have an attachment??? (help)

Hi guys!!! I'm AbnormalDemigod!!!

A little about me...

Hi, I'm a 16-year-old girl in Alberta Canada. I love cats, Harry Potter, and true crime. I'm an introvert and want to be a fantasy writer later in life.

So, this is my VERY FIRST post and the reason I logged into Tumblr was to connect with people I'll probably never meet and to share my thoughts and stuff.

Anyway...I'm into paranormal ghost-hunting stuff, (if stuff like that makes you uncomfortable, pls don't read this, I don't want to offend anyone. ) Okay so...things have been happening. I first discovered paranormal stuff about two years ago, I thought it was really cool and it definitely wasn't something I had ever been exposed to before. The first time I really thought anything was strange was only a few months ago. I was asleep, it was early morning and I was kind of floating in and out of sleep. I could feel this weight on the side of my bed, almost like someone was sitting there and there was also this strong feminine presence. It wasn't threatening or anything like that, it was just there, almost like it was waiting for something. I don't know how long this went on, but eventually, I heard my mum coming down the hall to wake me up. Just like that the presence was gone but I was kind of annoyed because I'd wanted to sleep peacefully before my mum woke me up: like somewhere in my subconscious I'd registered that there was another person in the room with me. It wasn't until later in the day that I realized how weird that was and I freaked.

I talked to both my siblings and asked them if they'd been watching me sleep for some reason and they both said no. I knew it hadn't been my mum because she'd come into my room almost eminently after the presence left and it wasn't my dad because, as I said, this was a very feminine presence. After thinking it through I reasoned it was either a figment of my imagination or a ghost of some kind. I was hesitant about that theory though. Our house is new, we're the first people to own it and we live in a really quiet neighborhood. I couldn't come up with a logical explanation for a haunting. But when I was little, five or six, we lived in a different house. It was older, maybe fifty years and I have some very vivid, very weird memories of it. When I went to sleep at night, I'd hear these voices. Most of the time they were whispering but sometimes I'd hear my name. I didn't think much of it being only a little kid at the time.

I'd also have these nightmares, like really horrible ones. I was only a little kid and I'd never watched a scary movie in my life. The most vivid, the one I can actually recall a decent amount of memories from happened twice. Both times were identical and part of me knew that it was happening twice but I couldn't alter the dream. In the dream, I was in the basement of our house. It was unfinished with bare concrete walls and a dirty floor with a few lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. More of a prison than a basement really. I was down there with my older brother, (I don't have an older brother so I don't know where my dream self got one from,) and we were playing together. Then, all of a sudden rats started appearing. Like, thousands of them. They came out of the walls, the ceiling, the floor. I screamed as they started biting my feet and my older brother lifted me up to keep me away from them but they started crawling up his legs and biting him too. We were running in circles yelling and more rats just kept on coming. That's all I can remember.

The second dream that really scared me, and the only time I couldn't wake myself up from a dream was about a year later. It was a dark room and there was a huge black cat with green eyes staring at me. It must have been about five feet tall. As a little kid, I often had dreams about cats growing to huge sizes and attacking me. A lot of the time I couldn't even scream. As the black cat came towards me I tried to run away. I knew I was asleep and I wanted to wake up but I couldn't. I remember it feeling like clawing my way through thick black fabric that was suffocating me.

We moved out of that house when I was seven and onto a small acreage. The dreams stopped and I mostly forgot about them. It's only in the last few months that I've started to wonder if there's a paranormal attachment hanging around from that house. After that presence on the edge of my bed not much else happened. Not until we went on a family holiday to a heritage town not far from my grandparent's place. The town consists of old refurbished buildings left over from the start of the 21st century. It was a mining town and after the gold rush ended it turned into a ghost town. Anyway, I and my sister were looking through some of the surviving houses. She was slightly ahead of me and entered first. I had just stepped through the doorway when she looked at me and said, "The door handle was just rattling,"

I couldn't believe it. I'd never had a paranormal phenomenon this clear before. Now, I'm not a very empathetic person. I can't sense what people are feeling very well which makes me a bit socially awkward. But my sister is really attuned to stuff like that. I asked her if she felt anything in the house. Was there a sad or happy feeling? Did she get chills? She wasn't sure, and to be honest she's not really comfortable with that kind of stuff so I didn't want to push her. Still, she did tell me that she couldn't help but think of the people who used to live here. How they're all dead now. She also told me was all she could think about was a little girl playing on the carpet in the living room. She had brown hair and eyes and looked a lot like a woman in a painting in the house. Again, my sister is uncomfortable with this sort of thing but I think its possible for her to be a medium. What do you guy's think?

Throughout the rest of the trip, I couldn't get the door handle out of my head. I couldn't believe that I had been that close to something otherworldly. There were a few times when I'd feel something close by, a sort of presence behind me. I'd also get chills down one side of my body which was really weird. The holiday ended and life continued. About a week after we got back our oven broke. That wasn't an object of concern, it was old and we called an appliance store in the nearest city to us, it's about 45 min away. But they don't service people more than 30 min away so we had to find someone else. We found someone who would come out and on the day he was meant to come to our house to look at the oven, he didn't show up. No phone call, no email, nothing. A few days later we find out he's in the hospital. Well, that was weird but stuff like that happens. About a week later a friend tells us that her uncle fixes appliances in a small town near us. We call him. A meeting is scheduled. It's going to be fine. On the day he is meant to arrive....we get a call telling us that he's in the hospital with blood poisoning. That's two people coming to help us who ended up in the hospital within a month. Is that just really bad luck or is this some sort of negative energy?

Either way, I'm fairly certain that something going on and it's scary. I don't want to bring it up with my parents because they don't believe in this sort of thing.

Anyway, that all I've got for now!!!

See yall later!!!✌️✌️✌️

[sofiiel]

There & Back Again | Ch.16

Enter Angel

↰ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ | ɴᴇxᴛ ↱

Myrtle stood in Chrissy's bedroom with her and Amy. Her hands gripping the sides of a royal blue dress. "Are you sure this dress was a good idea? They'll eat her alive." Amy whispered to Chrissy. "It looks so good on her, though," Chrissy whispered back.

Myrtle bit her lip, she wasn't displeased with what she had on, but she could never imagine herself in it. It seemed to really draw out the blue fleck in her eye. "Oh, wait, I have the perfect thing!" Chrissy called, dashing towards her closet. 

Myrtle watched her with worry, "do I Want to know?" she thought to herself. It took a mere second for Chrissy to return with a white leather vest with wild west tendrils hanging from the center of the back. "This is too much." Myrtle said with wide eyes. "No, it's perfect," Amy said.

"I look like the fourth of July!" Myrtle shot, "no, you don't have red on." Chrissy pointed out. "Thank you, but no, thank you." Myrtle said, finally laughing.

Chrissy's face eased into a gentle smile, "there, that's better it did the job." she said with a satisfied nod.

"You weren't actually serious?" Amy asked her.

Chrissy shook her head. "No, it was clear Myrtle was nervous. A good laugh can fix that." Chrissy explained. Myrtle gave her a grateful smile. "I didn't think popular Chrissy Cunningham would be so nice." she confessed. Chrissy's smile weakened, "I know what it feels like to be on the other side of people's actions." she said.

"I'll have Jason call your brother and tell him that you're spending the night with me and some of the girls. It'll buy you time tonight." Chrissy said. Amy whistled, "she's your regular ol' fairy godmother, isn't she?" she said. 

Myrtle turned away from the mirror and faced Chrissy, "you really are, I can't ask you to do this." Myrtle said she side glanced uncomfortably, "My dad if he finds out...." she murmured. Chrissy rolled her eyes, "Oh, I know parents like yours...trust me. I'm ok. It's me living through you." Chrissy giggled. "One day you'll return the favor. Anyway, you'll be giving me ballet tips for cheer - we're perfectly even." said Chrissy.

Myrtle glanced between Chrissy and Amy, "don't look at us like that, it's time for you to head off." Amy said. "Um.....do you have a camera, Chrissy? Robin would kill me if she knew she missed this." Myrtle asked. Chrissy reached for the Polaroid on her dresser and held it up to her face, "smile!" Chrissy called taking a series of snaps.

Eddie and the band arrived at The Hideout, the same old faces were loitering about the small industrial building turned bar. He and his bandmate pulled their equipment from the back of his Van and lugged it backstage while greeting the usuals along the way. "Heads up, Eddie..." Called a girl with vivid eyes and bright red lips, "Pete's here, He's got a set sometime after eleven thirty." she warned.

Eddie's eyes dulled and irritation flashed in them, "Thanks for the warning Sam," Eddie said, trying his best to form a smile. "Nobody gives a damn what loser does, tonight I've got more important things to worry about," Eddie said. Looking over his shoulder, he gave a nod to his band, "come on guys, let's go set up." He said.

Sam stepped out of the boy's way and rose her brows in curiosity, "he usually rages at the mention of Pete." she thought, chewing on her bubblegum. A mischievous smirk lit up her face, "oooo do I smell something fun?" she murmured to herself, turning on the heel of her platform boots as she headed for the front of the bar.

"Hey, Petey!" Sam called, rushing to the bar and speaking to a mass of thick brown hair. Turning in his seat, blue eyes like glass looked her up and down with a lazy gaze and an easy smile. "I won't tell you one more fucking time not to call me that shit, Sam." He warned in a voice as easy as his smile, the threat within his words seemed false. 

Sam rolled her eyes, "what is it?" Pete asked, taking a sip from a beer can. "I just spoke to Eddie," she said raising her head a little to peer at Pete from under her nose, "He wasn't very bothered that you decided to show up to play tonight." she said fighting an amused smile. Pete rolled his eyes, "like I'm supposed to care what that runt does?" Pete muttered, turning his back to Sam. 

"He's taller than you." Sam corrected, Pete lowered his beer away from his mouth, "It's in spirit, Sam." He sighed, looking down into the can, Pete listened to the booze fizzle inside. While his gaze was calm, his jaw was slightly clenched.

"I think it still bothers you," Sam hummed. Pete said nothing as two of his bandmates watched him cautiously.

"And I think Eddie's about over it, or trying to be." Sam added. "Wind dies out as a season changes, Sam. He's meant to let go." said Pete, "and you are meant to get the fuck on. You're annoying me," he murmured, turning to look at her, "and a buzz kill." Pete whispered.

Eddie sighed as he peered around the wall behind the stage exit for the seventh time, his eyes scanning the lightly crowded room below. Not a single new face in a sea of regulars. He glanced down at his watch, "nine" he sighed, it was time for them to go on soon, and still no Myrtle. "Maybe she's just late," Jeff called to reassure him. "I know we're pretty new friends, but…she's not exactly the type to be late." Eddie muttered, his eyes darting over the room below, "and if she is...that gives me a cause to worry." Eddie whispered.

Shutting his eyes, he could imagine the monster dogs, and it made his heartbeat speed up. "Damn it." he sighed. Scott rested a hand on Eddie's shoulder, "She's also the nervous type, for all you know she's just outside too scared to enter." Scott reasoned.

"True, I mean, this place is pretty intimidating." Gareth said. "Some old industrial ruin full of loud people acting a fool outside tens of different radios blasting the loudest music on earth." Jeff chuckled. "And then there is little mousey Myrtle." he added.

Eddie smiled a bit, "then maybe I should have Sam keep an eye out for her." Eddie said. "I'll go find her, we're on in five." Gareth said before running off.

Myrtle sat in her car, her eyes scanning the small crowd outside the building. "That's the biggest mohawk I've ever seen." Myrtle thought, leaning forward as her eyes followed a tall girl with a towering black mohawk. Oddly enough, it wasn't at all like Myrtle had expected. All the angry scowls were nothing more than pleased and excited grins as metalheads, Rockers, goths and Nu Wave fans alike all chatted with each other.

The air outside felt relaxed, and Myrtle found herself hopeful. But as she looked down at herself, she really stood out. Reaching into the back seat, she pulled out Eddie's jacket. "He won't mind if I use this until I see him." she thought, quickly slipping it on. Her heart thumped as her nose got a faint whiff of his scent. Something like cigarette smoke, leather, and soap with an ever-so-faint hint of marijuana. 

Myrtle looked at the clock, "damn it, nine twenty!" she gasped, in a hurry she hoped out of the car and locked it up rushing towards the doors of The Hideout, "thank you." she murmured quietly to the boy who held open the door for her, trying to ignore the odd stares she was getting.

Looking around her as she pushed into a crowded building, Myrtle could see the glances and feel the whispers.  "Just find the stage." Myrtle told herself, pushing on, she could hear the music playing and followed the sound of the instruments deeper into the building.

Hidden in a lake of leather and denim, Myrtle stood near the tables standing on her tiptoes to see, a smile instantly popping onto her face as she looked up to the stage. The colorful lights fell on the boys as they played their hearts out. Myrtle could feel a fluttering in her stomach as Eddie started to sing, in the resonated A keys of a Lyric Barritone. 

Listening to him made her awareness of the people around her fade, but only for a moment.

"This table is taken." someone growled, before Myrtle to register who had said it, she found herself shouldered to the side, lightly stumbling she tried her best to just create distance. "Find somewhere else to stand." she told herself, "you don't need to make anyone mad." she thought, making her way through the crowds once more.

A pair of blue eyes watched her move through the dancing and head-banging masses. A curious glint in the back of them, "and who are you little fairy." he whispered, downing the rest of his beer before quietly making chase.

Eddie stole a look deeper into the audience, still nothing. He could feel himself deflating as his eyes desperately searched. "Come on, come on..." He thought. Scott and Gareth shared a worried glance as they could feel the momentum fading slowly.

A soda fell across Myrtle's black mary-jane shoes, looking down at all the liquid and ice around her feet, she gasped. "Oops." a girl said dryly, "why don't you go home, richie." she snapped. "I..." Myrtle stammered, looking at the girl baffled. Briefly, her eyes flickered to the Stage, and with a light huff, Myrtle gave a nod.

"Sorry," she whispered, "she's not wrong. I don't fit in here at all." thought Myrtle, turning to leave.

Eddie's eyes grew wide, it was a brief moment, but he saw her face before she started to walk away. In the middle of the bridge, he couldn't very well stop singing to call out to her. "No, you don't Myrtle...come on." Eddie thought, walking closer to the front of the stage, he fell into a guitar solo, and an unprompted one at that.

Starting at the lowest cords he quickly and skillfully played higher and high, the crowds hooted and whooped in their hype. 

Myrtle's ears perked as she turned looking at the stage from over her shoulder, Eddie grinned, "that's it." He thought, "now come back." his mind called to her, and he inched even closer to the edge of the stage. Myrtle waded through the crowd, slipping through as best she could. 

Confident that he'd lured her back in, Eddie backed away. Tossing his head back as he played, falling into their original set once more, the band joined in and held their ground as each of them played with great enthusiasm. Myrtle giggled softly as she watched, the boys looked like their necks had been replaced with rubber, and Eddie's whole face had become lost somewhere between flying curls of hair.

Within her small space in the crowd, packed in like a sardine, Myrtle swayed and bopped to the music, resisting the urge her feet had to dance. Looking up and letting out a musical yowl that reverbed the air, Eddie smiled pleased at the grin that formed on Myrtle's face and a brand-new rush spread through his body.

But as a group of people tapped on Myrtle's shoulder, Eddie's smile fell. "Shit," Eddie thought.

"Can I help you?" Myrtle asked, "I don't want trouble I-I'm just here to listen, and I'll be gone. I'm just...here for a friend." she said quickly, backing away. The boy with the two girls eyed her up and down, "sure, spot me a couple of bucks, and we won't have a problem." he said with a smile. "How does that make s- nevermind sure.." Myrtle started to dig into her purse when she found it snatched from her.

Her pulse quickened as she backed away more, she could no longer see the stage clearly.

"Y-you know what, you can keep it. I swear I'll leave as soon as the band is done..." she tried to reason. "Go kick rocks, guys, She's here with Corroded." A voice called behind her. "It's none of your business, Samantha." one of the girls shot.

Myrtle looked at the girl at her side, she looked fierce with a spiked collar around her neck and a black leather jacket that at one time had sleeves years ago. She scowled at the trio before them. "The Hideout needs new business, stop fuckin it up or Doris will have your ass," Sam said.

"Of course, D's lapdog would say that. You'd have this place sell out to posers and richies." one of the girls snapped. "You don't even work here anymore, so what are you going to do?" The guy asked.

Myrtle's eyes flew between everyone involved as she opted to remain silent. Her whole body shivered as the surrounding air became heavy and cold. A looming feeling made it hard to fill her lungs, and she could feel a presence standing very close behind her.

The trio before them fell silent, and the guy slightly shrunk back. 

"A-Angel...." He stammered, the two girls with him slinking back.

Myrtle and Sam were lightly pushed behind a boy with thick brown hair and a dark plaid shirt. Angel glared up at the guy before him. "I don't need to work here to throw you out on your ass, do I?" he asked calmly. It was an unnerving kind of calm, his voice was almost metallic and hollow.

"She's with me now too. Fuck off." Angel stated closing the distance between him and the troublemaker, he looked the guy up and down as if he were small and snatched Myrtle's purse back. "Now." Angel whispered, passing the bag back to its owner. The guy backed away and left with a scoff, leaving the two girls behind baffled. 

Angel turned his gaze to the two of them and raised his brows high, "hard of hearing?" he asked.

"Scatter" Sam called to them, and they did just that.

Myrtle exhaled and relaxed, "thank you." she said, looking between Sam and Angel. "Huh, Petey got involved, that's a first in a long time." Sam laughed, a wide grin on her face. "You're ok, Eddie sent me to look for you." she added.

"He did?" Myrtle asked, she couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Yeah, Gareth said the boy was sulking about you not showing up." Sam laughed lightly. "He should have warned you not to come dressed like that." she teased.

"Why? Beauty can light up the shadows of this place," Angel said, stepping forward. He held out his hand as if asking to dance, and Myrtle reluctantly placed her hand in his. He gave a small smile and brought her hand to his lips. "Pete Angel. It's nice to meet you-" Angel lingered on his words awaiting Myrtle to finish them, "ah, M-myrtle McKinney." she stammered lost in eyes that held her gaze like a trap. 

Angel made a sound like a scoff, but less disgusted and more amused. "A name fitting of a fairy." he hummed. Angel nodded towards the bar, "come sit with us, I'll run the ghosts away." he said playfully. Myrtle glanced back towards the stage. "Don't worry, he'll come running." Sam snickered. Angel gave a scowl, "I'm sure he will." he murmured. 

"Huh?" Myrtle asked. "Nothing, let's find a seat, shall we? Sorry your first time here had to be like this." Angel said, leading the way through the crowd. At the bar, Myrtle looked around skeptically, "she's thinking to herself, none of these people look old enough to drink." Angel said, looking at Myrtle from the corner of his eye as he popped open his beer.

"And she's completely right, they aren't. The owner here doesn't give a damn." Angel said with a chuckle. "Why not?" She asked. Angel shrugged, "does it matter? You can't stop them from drinking, if not here they'll do it somewhere else, at least here. The bartender can cut them off." Angel stated, "and the police had bigger problems than a few teens drinking out here." He added.

"Really? They found the missing boy, what else could be going on?" Myrtle asked, her eyes kept wandering back to the stage. "It's kinda hard to ignore him when he's up there like that. He looks so at home." Myrtle thought. Angel followed her gaze, turning around in his chair so that he might look towards the stage too. 

"Well, aren't you smitten?" Sam sang amused. Myrtle could feel herself blushing in the dark room. "Hardly, but he's pretty impressive up there like that. Eddie's usually a big old goofball. He's different up there somehow." Myrtle said, still unable to take her eyes away.

"It's the guitar, you know. He wouldn't be anything without it." Angel hummed. "A real artist doesn't let his tools define him, a knight should not be his sword." he muttered. "The...guitar?" Myrtle questioned.

"Some say she's got a soul." Angel whispered in Myrtle's ear. "I say, she steals them." He added.

"Stop trying to scare her, Petey." Sam barked. "What did I tell you about calling me by that fucking name, Sam?" Angel growled. Myrtle gave a weak smile at Angel's clear irritation.

"I think I'll be ok now, thank you both." Myrtle announced hopping down from her seat she reached into her purse and pulled out ten, laying it on the counter, "here I'll buy you both a drink." she said with a smile. "Be careful little fairy," Angel called after her, he could see she was itching to get close to the stage, and he wasn't going to stop her.

"Petey...don't" Sam lulled cautiously. "Don't what, Sam?" Angel questioned absently, his eyes following Myrtle through the crowd. "I know that look, leave her be - she's a good girl." Sam warned. Slowly a smirk formed on Angel's face, "what's that supposed to mean, Sam?" He asked darkness hidden in the playful tone of his. 

"She's cute, and I like her already...and Eddie likes her. You guys can't do this again, you can't make me be Switzerland forever." Sam pushed. Angel tossed Sam a wicked smile, "you think too little of me." He said, sliding the ten over to her, "here, get yourself two drinks. I need to go get ready." said Angel, vanishing into the crowd.

Myrtle made her way back towards the stage, seeing her wade through the crowd caused Eddie to smile, as they fell into the last song of their set. She stood about fifteen bodies away from the stage, swaying with the music, and Eddie put on a show for her, turning her smile into a grin. Their gaze stayed on each other like spotlights in the dark building.

As Eddie played he walked closer to the edge of the stage, kneeling low he played his guitar, eyes locked to Myrtle he smirked as she too made her way forward. Myrtle wouldn't go any closer than she currently was, she had no desire to stand boldly at the bottom of the stage. Eddie gladly resigned, that would be close enough, returning to the mike Eddie finished up the song with one last high scream.

"Thank you, for coming out and showing us your support again, it's a bit of a shithole, but we love our little corner of Hawkins!" Eddie shouted, "We will reject the status quo as they have condemned us! Stay metal, my friends!" Eddie called out the grin of a jester on his face as he bowed deeply and dramatically, causing a few out in the crowd to laugh. "Oh, get off the stage!" someone called in good fun.

Myrtle looked around her, they might have been wary of her. But the people here were hardly bad. She could even spot the ones who gave her a hard time, laughing happily with each other in the distance. "They're just protecting each other and this place." Myrtle thought. "Come to think of it... it's probably only the judgment-free zone they have here." she pondered.

Eddie unhooked his guitar from the amp, and swung it onto his back before hopping off the stage. He strolled up to Myrtle with a grin so wide it threatened to swallow the bottom of his face. "Sooo" he sang closing in on her, "You finally sho-"

"That was amazing!" Myrle nearly shouted. Eddie laughed as he could feel the light blush on his face. "That, was kind of a bit much...sorry, but still..." Myrtle said, covering her mouth as she realized how loud she'd been. Eddie's gaze on her softened as he cupped his hand around his ear and leaned towards her, "Hardly loud enough, scream it at me. Top of your lungs." He teased.

"You play too much, Eddie, I'm not yelling." Myrtle laughed. "I'm sorry what?" Eddie pretended not to hear. Myrtle walked closer and moved her face close to his ear, "You were amazing up there." she whispered. Eddie shivered, and his smirk slipped into a melting smile. "That was mean, Myrtle." he said. Myrtle gave a slightly impish smile of her own, "serves you right." she said, lightly pushing his arm.

Eddie placed an arm around her shoulders, "I'll take it, I'm just glad to see you here." He said, he glanced around, "It looked like someone was giving you trouble." He said. "Yeah for a while, but um Samantha came to help me." Myrtle said. "She found you then, at least she can make herself useful sometimes." Eddie murmured.

Myrtle noticed how he had quickly become distracted. "Eddie?" Myrtle asked, His eyes lingered on something in the distance resting on the bar top. Grasping Myrtle's hand, he led her through the crowd.

"Eddie, where are we going?" Myrtle asked.

Reaching the Bar, Eddie snatched up a scarlet, shimmering guitar pick on a simple necklace chain. For a moment Eddie's face paled, clenching the pick in his fist, his hand started to shake. "Eddie?" Myrtle called to him quietly, she watched him in silence after. Peering at the side of his face, Myrtle could see a mixture of pain and anger. 

She rested her hand gently on his upper arm to let him know she was there before hugging his arm. "It seems I'm not the only one with something I can't share." she thought. While she hated the look that was on his face, something about knowing the secrecy wasn't one-sided was oddly comforting. Eddie leaned his head to the side to rest briefly on Myrtle's.

The sound of an electric guitar hissing softly cause Eddie to turn towards the stage, there above them in the distance Angel stood with his band, a pleased glint in his eyes as he otherwise stared Eddie down with a blank expression.

"You can have it back when you have something worth trading for." the words from years ago echoed in the back of Eddie's mind. He glanced down at Myrtle who focused on the stage as Angel started to sing, a deep voice that sounded nothing like his speaking tone, lulled with shadowy anger. His song was nothing upbeat or fast, but slow and heavy. Reverbing through one's mind, leaving the feeling of being haunted.

"Wow" Myrtle murmured quietly, it wasn't a horrible sound, but it was one that made her restless. Eddie scowled, "damned show off." Eddie thought, slipping the pick into his pocket. Through the crowd came Jeff, Gareth and Scott. They looked between the stage and Eddie.

Myrtle looked their way with a question in her eyes, Scott followed her gaze as it slowly shifted to a silver chain dangling out of Eddie's fist. Scott gave Jeff's arm a swat and pointed down. "Shit." Jeff sighed.

Eddie stood with his eyes locked onto Angel who held a smile so faint it was hardly there at all, even still it was a callous one. Eddie's eyes were nearly snarling as his fist shook. 

↰ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ | ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ | ɴᴇxᴛ ↱

[euargh]

blogging also dream diary

Today I felt so sick. I ended up sleeping for the whole day. my leg kept twitching and I was afraid I'd end up in agony again so I took these leg cramps pills. we were going to go out in the morning but we didn't, thankfully. I'm not ready to deal with the public. Also discovered my dad has the flu or covid. oh man. we got both vaccines for the flu and covid. I guess that explains why I've been feeling dizzy, weak, chest pain, coughed earlier, other things. urghh anyways, in my sleep, had intense realistic lucid dreams. I woke up in my bed in the dream, saw huge horns at my right side. Decided to not pay attention to it so it won't shapeshift to something scary or something. I got up from bed and went to the edge to test if I was asleep. If I fly off, I'm dreaming. If I crash five feet below, then ohshit. Thankfully I haven't crashed onto the floor yet (hope to not jinx this) I did land on my garbage bags before. Went into the livingroom in the dream. Everything was very real. My mom was at the front door and said "I"m going to buy a restaurant for us to work at." I then asked "Wait, is this a dream?" She said "No." I asked my dad in the dream, he said "Maybe?" I decided to test if I was dreaming with flying up into the air. Then oh ok, it's a dream. Told them "Oh man, sorry for my rudeness. Nice to meet you both, dream mom and dream dad." Went into the kitchen and saw a massive pile of dishes. I wanted to just go fly around and have fun, but instead decided to help my parents in the dream so I cleaned them. Then I went into my room in the dream and it wasn't cluttered or messy. I took a good look around. Then there was an aquarium. I looked in to see strange fish. I was "oh, haha okay partial memories in vivid form of my old aquarium I used to have. This is like being in a holodeck in my head." So I fed them. Got horrified at a fish eating another fish in the thank then recalled oh horrid flashbacks to bad things I saw, this isn't real, just back away. Then I went to my parent's bedroom to watch tv with them. Don't know why I didn't want to be rude and fly off and decided to hang/help out for a bit to figments of my imagination in my head. I forgot what the second realistic dream was about.