#imaginary friend institution

[cinderacequeen]

I get very emotionally attached to father and paternal figure characters who are/become overprotective of the kid(s) under their guardianship.

I feel like Pooky will always see Annabelle like this no matter how old she gets 🥺

[agileo-101]

Ah! I forgot to make an announcement here. Twistee merch I designed is available at the Official Imaginary friend Asylum game merch store! Pls feel free to check it out!

https://imaginaryfriend.store/collections/imaginary-friend-asylum

[gooberminator]

yall who do you ship in ifa/ifi???

ive seen ships like polo x marco, polo x pooky (my personal fav) and polo x twistee - i have barely seen any ships of any of the other characters, so i wanna know who you guys ship!!!

[silvr-skreen]

AUHH?H>>

Imaginary Friend Institution | Teaser Trailer (youtube.com)

[imaginaryfanasylum]

Is it weird that I possibly ship Polo with the upcoming Imaginary Friend "Medic"?

Not at all, though I'll admit this is my first time hearing of the Medic character. I wonder how many kids in Grimwell Institute will have an imaginary friend?

[hi-imlilac]

imaginary friends asylum/institution oc

Appearances: her actual skin colour + what she'd look like in the game

Meet joy, a girl who tries living up to her name by bringing whatever joy she can to the world. She's not had the best life, having started from ever since she lived with her aunt after her parents died. Plus the fact she was looked down upon for having an imaginary friend even at 14 years old.

Her imaginary friend is Sunny, who's just as bright as joy. She loves the idea that positivity is key to survival in a place like this. That, and also some resilience and obedience. Sunny can glow in dark places, if she truly wishes to. This glow us unseen by those without imaginary friends of course. (she took the wolf appearance because Joy really loves wolves and that's just how her mind works)

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh ����

masterlist

part 2 !!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Told you she was real

Buck Cleven X nurse! Reader

Summary: Buck has a girlfriend, Bucky does not believe such "lies"

Warning: none

Word count: 500 words

When Buck told his best friend that he had a girlfriend, Bucky laughed for minutes before saying that he didn’t believe him. But he was wrong, she was just never around the base. She was a travel nurse, that means that the Red Cross send her when she was most needed. That’s how they met, he’d fall and open his knee and she healed him, after they kept talking until, she was going to be send away. Buck gave her the address of his base, so she’d write to him.

Buck closed her last letter, grinning like the town idiot. ‘’What got you smiling like that?’’ Bucky asked. ‘’My girlfriend is coming here’’ he says, smiling. ‘’Oh, I don’t say this to be mean, but are you sure you’re okay, mentally? Because there’s no way she’s real’’ Bucky said. Buck rolled his eyes and showed his friend the letter, he read it. ‘’Nah, I’m still not convinced. I have to see her in real life to believe you’’ he gently taps his back before leaving the room. Buck was happy, his girlfriend was coming on his base, he could prove to his best friend that she’s real and dating him. Plus, he was sure that Bucky was going to be jealous of him, Y/n was really beautiful.

She got out of the truck, looking around the base, looking for her boyfriend. When she spotted him, she dropped her bags and ran in his direction. She jumped in his arms as they spun around. ‘’I’ve missed you so much!’’ she squealed in his ears. Other soldiers were looking at the couple with confusion, his mysterious girlfriend was real? John Egan walked out of a building and saw his best friend kissing a girl, his jaw dropped, and he rose his eyebrows, what the hell? He thought. ‘’Wait a damn second!? She’s your imaginary girlfriend, she’s real?!’’ he exclaimed. ‘’Not so imaginary now, I’m Y/n, you must be Bucky. Gale told me a lot about you’’ she extended her hand for the pilot to shake. Bucky was even more in shock she had repartee, what was she doing with him? ‘’Great things?’’ he looked at his friend. ‘’Yes, but he did mention a certain unicorn story’’ she laughs. ‘’You did not tell her about that!’’ Bucky exclaimed. Buck only nodded, making Bucky face palm. ‘’I’m really happy to see that you are real, and I don’t have to send my best friend to a mental institute’’ Bucky says. ‘’Happy to be real’’ Y/n smirk. Buck smiles, proud of his girl. He kissed her again, happy that she came here. ‘’I can’t believe you’re in front of me’’ Buck says. ‘’Me neither, but I have a great news’’ she says. They stop walking and she looks at him. ‘’I got transferred here, permanently’’ she smiles. Buck hugs her tightly. ‘’Oh my! That’s amazing! We’re going to be together all the time’’ He cries out in joy. Bucky surely believed his friend now.

[igotanidea]

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying. 

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

Edit:

part 3 : Smooth criminal is up!

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

[cinderacequeen]

HE'S FINE, DON'T WORRY! My Imaginary Friend Asylum OC, Lagifer, is more durable than he looks. 💀

He's almost always grumpy in his pre-IFA baby form because he's smol, floofy, adorable and no one takes him seriously. 🤭

He and past Pooky (Pook!) would still despise each other.

[foptbw]

Chester: When Chloe moved to Dimmsdale, according to her Timmy and her bonded pretending to have fairy godparents who granted their wishes. I think Timmy got the idea off that crockpot who was always going on about catching Timmy's Fairy Godparents. Timmy THINKS that fairies are real. He is obsessed with everything fairies. From books to cartoons to movies if there is fairies he has seen it.

But Timmy isn't anything like Crocker. Crocker was obsessed with hunting fairies. He's much more interested in becoming a fairy himself. He has never bullied a child believing they had Fairy Godparents.

Timmy: Im a expert in fairies! Chloe says that things aren't like how they are in tv shows or books or whatever. And how there are lots of monsters who are shown on tv one way but aren't. Buuuuut I know that! Cuz lots of media has fairies in lots of different ways

And there are lots of different types of fairies too! I have a picture of my real parents. AJ and Chester say it's just a drawing. But I know its real and they weren't just imaginary friends like Gary was.

I know fairies exist! I know I'm really a fairy and my real parents were fairies. That's why my other parents...

I might not be able to remember, but I know they are real.

Somehow I'll unlock my magic and I'll unlock my real self. And I'll be able to grant Chester and AJ their wishes and see my REAL parents again!

I would never ever ever ever hunt a fairy to use their magic. I would never ever ever ever stalk someone and... even if I thought they had fairies!

AJ: Timmy isn't obsessed with Fairy Godparents like Mr. Crocker is. He BELIEVES fairies are real, but has no active desire to try to hunt fairies. Galax Institute researches all paranormal fields. Fairies are not one we care that much about. But, we have dabbled in handling the possibility of a fairy sighting. Chester and I have decided it is for the best Timmy remains unaware of anything involving Galax and fairies. It's for the best.

[charmwasjess]

It’s curious to me to see fans (and more importantly creators) talk about Jedi critical views as partly sourced from their own damaging experiences with religious institutions. I’ve been thinking a lot about this since The Acolyte, and asking myself why, as a person with a dump truck load of reeking religious trauma in my history, I have such good associations with the idea of the Jedi - specifically with them as a faith-based institution. 

Note: These are my reflections based on my experiences with my specific religious community in a time and a place. This is not an attack on faith groups more broadly, nor an argument people are wrong for not liking or liking the Jedi based on their own religious experiences. I’m just sharing about my life. 

My trauma, specifically, so be nice to me.

Until the age of 17, I was raised in a corrupt, fundamentalist evangelical institution which controlled every aspect of my development: church, my social life, and my education. When I say corrupt, I’m not throwing words around lightly. I mean leaders in my community ended up being prosecuted and my “school” got ultimately shut down. 

I’ve found it often easier to be funny about this period of my life, to tell sarcastic stories about the ridiculousness of my schooling: the weekly literal 9 hours of Bible classes, or later, my college friends needing to teach me basics so I wouldn’t fail rudimentary science courses because “the Bible was our science textbook” for my entire education. Easier to laugh than to acknowledge the fact that for most of my life, I was stuck in an abusive, evil cult that attempted to ingrain misogyny, xenophobia, and homophobia, and taught me lies about basic history and science.

During that time, the prequel films came out. I got into Star Wars, particularly the Jedi stories. Okay, I was obsessed, with a kind of frenzied desperation. I saw the Jedi Order as the antithesis of my own toxic community rather than a reflection of it. While I was living in a repressive, rule-based culture that sought to control every smallest detail of my life and my choices didn’t matter, I saw the Jedi Order as a route of imaginary escapism, partially because of the strong contrast between the depiction of Jedi faith and my own community.

I remember needing to read a few forbidden secular books (aka classic literature) for my senior year literature college prep course. (The AP test was used by colleges, not controlled by my school, so it had things on it I wasn't allowed to read.) I was only allowed access to Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment because a school board member had gone through every copy the school had and used a sharpie to mark out any word, or in fact, any idea that she found personally problematic to the faith. I read that book like a blackout poem. 

The difference between that kind of suppression and control, and Palpatine’s sneering implication of the Jedi Order keeping secrets, “It’s not a story the Jedi would tell you,” felt like night and day. 

Even the Jedi concept of chosen celibacy felt quite different from the enforced abstinence which would end only when my sexual autonomy would be turned over to a future husband for his use. Such depictions of chosen celibacy (and later, asexuality, though thankfully I was out of the community by the time they got ahold of that one) were condemned as a perversion of God’s intended purpose for the body, no different from the dreaded homosexuality or masturbation.

And let me tell you, contrary to sympathizing with a fictional depiction of a like-mindedly-restrictive faith group, the leaders in my church really hated the concept of the Jedi. Partially, this was part of a larger rejection of fantasy media - the decade of hyperpopular Harry Potter saturation and a growing perception among my religious authorities that normalizing magic and witchcraft and other gods, and engaging with such genre of fiction would offend the jealous real-life higher power we served. Those of you who knew me back then can go back to my old teen account and see me lowercasing the word to “force” lest I offend the one true God.

But I mean the theology of it, too. It’s hard to overstate how popular and culturally present the prequel trilogies were when I was growing up. I absolutely sat through sermons that critically referenced Star Wars as anti-Christian and documented the differences. I was preteen and teenager in this era - youth messages were targeted around media that my age group consumed. Star Wars was everywhere: on cereal covers, on pizza boxes, on the back of Pepsi cans. 

I think another thing that’s sometimes forgotten is how political the prequel trilogies were at the time. Attack of the Clones came out on the onset of the Iraq War and the Patriot act - Palpatine’s assumption of emergency powers in a time of orchestrated “crisis” felt deeply relevant and deliberate. My community was right-wing conservative, the evangelical base that would evolve into the Christofacist Trump alt-right. For that reason, it was also anathema.

I think most importantly, when my access to secular peers was entirely restricted, I was able to make friends online who also loved the Jedi Order. That was such a strong antidote for both the ignorance about the world that I was deliberately taught, and the teenage loneliness that my church-school institution weaponized. None of that has anything to do with the depictions of Jedi faith as restrictive or not, but it feels significant. It was the love of a story that brought me community, when the other story that might’ve brought me community came with a barbed wire fence around my personal autonomy and very identity.* 

I hope I don’t sound like I’m attacking people who DO have a gut reaction against the Jedi because of religious trauma. (Or indeed people who are Christian - obviously my community was an incredibly fucked up outlier.) Really, we’re the same people, dealing with the same issues in different ways. I’ve healed a lot since I was a miserable thirteen year old taking solace in my Star Wars books and fanfics, but there are still some religious-affiliated things I just need to avoid - I don’t enjoy documentaries about church cults ala Under the Banner of Heaven, or stories like The Handmaids Tale. I don’t judge anyone for taking a look at a series centering around a religious order and needing to nope out of that part. 

But I do wish Star Wars creators weren’t working through their own issues by using the Jedi Order as their avatar for all religious institutional evil, because to some of us, it was, and remains, a very healing space for exactly that kind of damage.

*Ironically, my cluelessness about what being queer actually meant really shielded me from a lot of the homophobia. I wasn’t one of those "evil gays"; I just, unrelatedly, wanted to fuck girls as well as guys.

[gooberminator]

a lil polo break from artfight 🫶

i love him so much and im super excited for imaginary friend institution to come out!!!

[imaginaryfanasylum]

What are your thoughts (and maybe speculations) about the IFA sequel :}

I'm so excited for Imaginary Friend Institution! I'll admit that I have a lot of doubts about whether the kids will be treated any better there, since real state-run institutions at the time were often horribly overcrowded and patients weren't treated much better than how the nurses treated the kids at Hathmoore.

I'm also hoping we get to see more of the imaginary friends' powers in action!

[agileo-101]

Hi guys, big news! The reason I had been so busy this summer is because I became an Merch Artist for Imaginary Friend Asylum/Institute! If you love my art and enjoy the game, pls check it out!

[thenightfolknetwork]

Ok so, I'm not...supposed to exist?

I am—er, well, was an imaginary friend. My "brother" was a lonely little boy who was quite neglected looking back, and he wanted someone to spend his time with, a "sister".

So he dreamed, and I came to be. Now, even as a child he wasn't the most imaginative sort, preferring to imagine things he could see and wonder about what was rather than make something new completely from scratch. So, in his mind, his sister looked just like him, just with longer hair. I think that's one of the reasons i'm...like this.

Most children describe their imaginary friends as fantastical, with great glittering wings or neon spots and the like. Most children stop talking or believing in their imaginary friends around a certain age. Most children cannot see someone else's friend. No one, outside of the child, can see an imaginary friend.

Until now? I think? These are all observations I've made.

I remember only existing when my brother was around. We would play and "go on adventures" and just have fun. When it was dinner time, I would sit beside him and eat... but couldn't eat. I would say things to make him laugh, but no one else would acknowledge I was there. I didn't think much of it at the time since..well, I couldn't think. I wasn't real.

As he grew, he must have imagined me growing as well. As he learned, I did, too, and must have adjusted accordingly. Unlike his peers, he was convinced that I was a person and was angry when people told him otherwise.

We got older and he got more insistent when suddenly, people started to play along. Pretending to see me and talk to me when it was clear that they couldn't. I think this was when I started to...feel things? Think?

We fought, my brother and I. He was graduating secondary and heading to Uni. I asked him why he still imagined me when it was clear he didn't need me anymore. He said he did need me. I didn't believe him, we argued, and he left.

I was still there.

Before, time almost seemed to...skip? Think cutscenes from those video games everyone seems to like playing. The day ends, I blink and it's morning, no sleep needed. Brother was distracted? Time skips until he addressed me again.

I've never not been without him before. I panicked. I collapsed against the wall and I felt it. The cool wall, the tears streaming down my face, my brother's hug when he came to apologize. I don't know how to handle it.

When we sat down for dinner, his mum and dad addressed me and asked if I was alright, as if they had always known I existed. They could see me and my distress. I tried to explain, but everyone looked at me confused. They told me that of course i existed, I always did.

But I know the truth. There are no pictures of me in this house. There are no school records of me or medical ones. I have no bedroom or clothes of my own. I did not exist.

I don't know exactly when I became "real" but I am now. I just...I don't know what to do? I wasn't real and now I am and everyone calls me crazy for thinking otherwise. How does one exist? My brother is leaving for Uni soon and everyone expects the same of me, as if I've been accepted into one. I haven't, I've checked.

Why do I exist? Why does no one acknowledge that I never did?

Please.

I'm scared.

I'm so glad you've written in, reader. Quite apart from the existential questions your situation raises, there is also rather a lot of paperwork involved.

It is possible to live in the UK without being part of the civil bureaucratic system – indeed, there are certain isolated genuses whose right to do so has been fiercely protected over the generations. But it's a tremendously difficult way to live if you have any intention of engaging with the economic, education or healthcare systems.

The Bunbury Institute of Manifested Personages should be your first port of call to tackle the logistical and legal difficulties presented by your case. They'll be able to get you sorted with all the documentation you need to prove your existence, including a Certificate of Corporeal Incarnation, which will stand in where others might use their birth certificate.

Once you legally exist, you'll be able to open a bank account, apply for a passport, and essentially make whatever choices you want to make about how to spend the rest of your existence. Which brings me to the real heart of your letter – the emotional impact of your change in circumstance.

Sudden onset incarnation is a profoundly disruptive experience no matter how, when or to whom it occurs. Even if your family were able to understand the situation and support you through it, it would still be an extremely difficult situation to navigate. As it is, the nature of your previous existence and the way your incarnation has taken effect means they're just not able to.

You ask why nobody acknowledges your previous non-existence. Generally speaking, most people find it extremely difficult to the point of near impossibility to really understand divergent realities. It's not that your family are trying to undermine you – they are literally, psychologically and biologically, incapable of understanding how you have come to be.

I strongly recommend you find someone to talk to about this issue as soon as you can. Without your legal paperwork in place, it will be difficult to access mental health support either privately or through the NHS. However, the Bunbury Institute and other such charitable organisations may be able to put you in touch with support groups for others like yourself.

What's important is that you know, you're not alone in this. Whatever your family may believe, your experiences are real and valid. And, now, so are you. It's going to be a big adjustment, figuring out how you want to live in the world now you're here. Try not to get too overwhelmed. Take things one day at a time, try to keep an eye on the positives, and give yourself the grace and time you need to process the negatives. In time, I feel sure you'll be able to build a life that feels right for you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]