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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years ago

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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

youtube

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

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#Family Lore #Dogs #It's Halloween babey #friday the 13th #blood mention #I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him #Long post #Video

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starryjake · 5 months ago

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late nights | hyung line

in which your boyfriend gets horny in the middle of the night. *assume that the characters have given consent to sleep play in previous conversations.*

pairing: hyung line x fem!reader

includes: consensual sleep play, f receiving oral sex, unprotected sex, fingering, squirting, handjob, thigh riding, dry humping (lmk if i missed anything).

heeseung ೃ࿐

his heart basically broke when he trudged into your shared bedroom in the middle of the night, finding you fast asleep in bed. he’d said he was almost done on his computer 3 hours ago. you wanted to wait up for him so you could go to bed together, but the time just kept passing and you were eventually too tired to even try.

heeseung sighed and pulled his shirt over his head before softly crawling into bed next to you, immediately pressing himself against your backside.

the minute he pressed himself against your warm, slack body, he got hard. he hadn’t realized how pent up he was, how badly he needed to fuck you until really feeling your body against his own.

he took a deep, shaky breath, wrapping his arm around your waist and sliding his hand under your shirt to feel your warm, smooth skin. feeling you bare made heeseung only that much harder, twitching against the fabric of his pajama pants.

he slid his hand down lower into your pajama bottoms, biting back a moan as he immediately started rubbing your clit, feeling the heat of your pussy around his fingers.

he needed you to get just as worked up as he was. he needed you to wake up and take care of his problem.

as he was rubbing your clit, he started pushing his hips into your ass, needing some kind of friction to help ease the ache just a little bit.

by that point, with heeseung practically dry humping you and fingering you at the same time, it was impossible to stay asleep.

“hee?” you mumbled out, turning your neck back to look at him.

“can i put it in, baby?” he asked you, placing his hand on your neck and kissing the corner of your lips. “be a good girl and let me fuck you back to sleep.”

you blinked up at him with wide, confused eyes that only made him want to fuck you even more.

“okay,” you agreed sleepily, turning your head back the other way comfortably on your pillow.

heeseung didn’t waste a second, hurriedly tugging your pants down, followed by his. he didn’t even bother taking them all the way off, just enough to expose your hole and for his cock to come out.

he spread his pre-cum around his shaft, jerking himself off for a minute before lining himself up with your hole, which had gotten wet while you were sleeping.

he pushed in and groaned in relief at the sensation of your tight, warm walls wrapped around his needy cock. you closed your eyes, you head still hazy from sleep, but heeseung’s constant sharp thrusts were slowly beginning to wake you up fully.

“i tried to wait for you,” you sighed out, intertwining your fingers with his in front of your stomach. “i wanted you to fuck me before sleep, not during.”

“i know, angel,” he grunted, his hips moving rapidly in and out of you. “i’m so sorry, my baby. i’m here now.”

you moaned softly, tilting your head back against his chest. the sound of his pelvis hitting your lower back constantly filled the room, mixed with the sounds of both your heavy breathing.

both of your sensations were heightened from the late hours of the night so it took no time at all for you to be cumming at the same time. <3

jay ೃ༄

you were just too tired.

you were so excited to have a chill night in with your boyfriend. you guys had a nice dinner together and were gonna end the night cuddled on the couch watching a movie. but, about 10 minutes into the movie, you fell asleep.

in your defense, you had a busy day. you had an early morning lecture followed by a 7 hour shift. of course you were tired. jay knew this, and that was why he was not surprised in the slightest to have suddenly felt your body relax and go slack in his arms, signifying that you’d fallen asleep.

you were laying between his legs, your back and head resting against his chest. he was playing with your hair, but stopped once you’d fallen asleep.

“baby?” he spoke, but no answer came.

he sighed, pondering what to do.

and then he realized, feeling your warm body asleep on him, he’d sprung an erection. he felt guilty immediately for getting turned on when you were so tired, so stressed from school and work.

he wanted to help you, to take away your stress.

he snuck his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your pelvis. his mind was still racing, debating whether or not he should do what he really wanted to do with you right now.

fuck it, he thought.

he slid his hand down into your sweatpants, rubbing your pussy over your panties. he could feel your little clit and he could feel as your panties got damp the more he rubbed it.

“my poor thing,” he gushed, moving your panties to the side so he could rub you bare. “you just need to feel good.”

you were completely asleep still, having no idea that jay was gathering your slick from your hole and spreading it between your folds and up to your clit. as sound asleep as you were, jay was surprised that you were so wet, practically leaking fluid and dripping down your legs.

he rubbed your clit in circles for a few minutes before he decided he wanted you awake to feel it. so, he slid his middle finger into your eager hole, knowing that it would wake you, and it did.

your eyes opened, and you looked down at jay’s hand in your pants, his single finger massaging your walls.

“mmm,” you moaned, leaning your head back on his hard chest. “fuck, jay.”

“i know, baby,” he cooed. “put your legs on my thighs.”

you did as you were told, spreading your legs and putting your feet on either one of his thighs. he helped you get your pants and underwear off, leaving your lower half bare in his lap, and he kept fingering you.

your pussy made a wet squelching sound every time he thrusted his fingers in and out, but you were too tired to be embarrassed. plus, it felt too good, so good that your stomach was warm and you could tell you already going to cum.

“jay,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly. “im gonna—”

you cut yourself as you began to cum, a little gush of fluid spurting around his fingers and splattering on his sweatpants. he fingered you through it, his cock harder than ever from how hard you’d cum.

“that’s it, baby,” he cooed. “keep squirting around my fingers.”

jake ੈ✩‧₊˚

jake cursed himself for still having the most vivid, dirty sex dreams at his grown age. he woke up in a cold sweat, finding that his room was pitch black dark and you were sleeping soundly beside him, which only made his problem worse.

you looked so pretty when you slept. your face was peaceful, your cheeks slightly pink, your shirt having risen up on its own, exposing a sliver of your stomach. that sliver was turning jake on a hell of a lot more than it should’ve been.

he tossed and turned for a few minutes, genuinely trying to fall back asleep while ignoring how hard he was, ignoring how tight his pants were and how a droplet of precum was trickling down the length of his cock.

he gave it five minutes before giving up and attaching himself to your body. he kissed your neck, hoping that alone would wake you up, but you truly were out like a light.

he laid on his stomach, softly gripping your calves to pull your legs apart. he tugged on the waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them carefully down your legs, then spread your legs once more, revealing your pussy.

jake felt his cock pulsate just from looking at it, needing it in his mouth immediately or he might’ve just lost his mind.

he didn’t tease, didn’t take his time. he went straight in for it, firmly licking a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit.

he moaned at the taste, desperately going back in for a second lick. you shifted a little, slowly beginning to wake up from the feeling of jake eagerly licking your pussy.

“jake,” you muttered, sitting up slightly to see what he was doing.

he barely could even comprehend that you’d woken up, now so entranced in eating your pussy and grinding his cock into the mattress.

you could’ve stopped him. you could’ve told him he could fuck you if that was what he needed, but it was too hot to watch. you were enjoying the sight of him between your legs, humping his cock into the bed, too much.

so you laid back down, shut your eyes, and enjoyed your boyfriend eating you out until you were cumming on his face and he was cumming in his pants.

sunghoon ༊*·˚

how? how were you fast asleep right now when the ac in your apartment was broken and your bedroom was a million degrees?

sunghoon stared at your sleeping form in dismay. he was sweating and unbelievably uncomfortable, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers, but even then he was still too hot.

you also weren’t wearing much to sleep: a pair of panties and a thin tank top. sunghoon couldn’t help but stare because looking at you and how sexy you looked in your minimal clothing was a distraction from how hot he was.

and as he stared at where your cunt was beneath your panties and your breast that was on the verge of slipping out of your tank top, he got hard. really hard.

an idea came to his head: that if he just jerked off really quick, he’d get tired enough to be able to fall asleep.

so, he pulled his cock out from his boxers and started to stroke himself while staring at you. you’d probably be startled if you were to wake up and see him watching you, but he didn’t care. he wished you were awake to suffer through the heat with him.

a few minutes of jerking his cock off and it wasn’t doing the trick. he needed you, it was as simple as that.

“baby,” he muttered, rubbing your arm. “wake up.”

you shifted slightly and he grabbed your wrist, positioning your hand over his cock.

“please,” he begged, twitching in your limp hand. you couldn’t even wrap your fingers around him, still half asleep. “wake up, y/n. i need you.”

you opened your eyes, frowning when you were met with your own hand wrapped around sunghoon’s cock.

“what are you—”

“please make me cum,” he urged, fucking his hips up into your hand. “i’m gonna go crazy, y/n, please.”

you started to glide your hand up and down his cock, to which sunghoon sighed out in pleasure and relief. it was already feeling 10 times better than when he’d done it.

“fuck,” he moaned. “come here.”

he patted his bare thigh, urging you to sit on it. you moved slowly, still sluggish from sleep, but you straddled his thigh and started humping your pussy against him as your hand worked his cock.

“oh my god,” he groaned, putting his arms behind his head and watching you. “you’re so perfect, baby. so fuckin’ hot.”

you whimpered slightly, your clit rubbing against his thigh just right.

you took a second to let a string of spit trickle out of your mouth and land on the pink tip of his cock, using it as lubrication to easily glide your hand up and down.

squeezing his cock and pushing your cunt against his leg, you were both set up to cum quickly.

sunghoon’s load was big and splattered in ropes all over his warm stomach, while you shook and clenched around his thigh, pussy coming undone on him.

ok so im twitching! 💗

thanks for reading :3

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