#it's been a rough couple of months for me

[lotusbxtch]

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[wonderjanga]

Where Have you Been?

This is inspired by this post.

Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.

Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.

Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”

Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)

Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”

Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.

Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)

Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)

Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*

Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.

Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”

College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”

Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”

College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”

Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*

College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*

Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”

College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”

Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”

College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*

Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”

College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*

Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”

College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*

Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”

College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)

Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*

College Student: “Wait, come back!”

As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.

Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.

Marvel: *answers his comm*

Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”

Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”

Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”

Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.

Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.

By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.

Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”

Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”

Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*

Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.

Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”

That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.

[bugflies00]

i join stream and the FIRST thing he says is ‘really antvenom? youll like me forever? you wouldnt like me if i followed in the steps of a few of my colleagues. sorry antvenom that was misdirected anger. its been a rough couple months’ ??;!!?;???

[lulunothulu]

“Something More”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Content: angst, some swearing, suicidal ideation, sadness, HEA though!!!

I’d like to apologize for being MIA, it’s been a rough few weeks/month. I’m trying to make my comeback so bear with me as I try to get through the asks and drafts I have. Thank you for your patience and enjoy some angst with Jakey boy 💗

You were looking out the window, sighing up at the moonlight when Jake found you. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a cup of tea was placed in your hands when he’d walked upstairs to your reading nook.

He watched as you seemingly ignored (or not noticed) his presence and he couldn’t help but smile. It’s been a while since he’d seen you look relaxed. Not since the last mission you were both sent on.

The mission was supposed to be an “in and out” situation. Get the goods, bomb the shelter, and fly out. That’s what Maverick told you both anyway. Though you’d both been dating, you were allowed to fly together. Since no one but Bradley and Natasha knew you were together, you were both able to get away with it.

This mission changed that.

When your jet was shot down, Bradley spilled all the secrets. He told maverick that you’d both been dating, in an attempt to have you both saved at the same time. Jake knew his friend did it to save you both from heartbreak, but also because they would have chosen to save you first—being a woman and all.

Jake didn’t want to think about it.

No, instead he shakes the thoughts out of his head before approaching you with a sly smile. At the creaking of the wood flooring, he watched as your head swung to face him—your hands gripping the mug so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

“I didn’t realize you were standing there,” you said. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope, just checking on my favorite person.” Jake’s eyes raked down your body, stopping at the boot on your foot. “How’s the foot feeling?”

How are you feeling? He wanted to ask.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you tell him. You flash him a tight smile before turning back to the window. “What’s the real reason you’re creeping around the house for?”

Jake sighs, taking a moment to kneel next to you before he says his next words.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Not really but I’m dealing with it.”

“We can always—”

“Don’t say it.” He knew you knew what he was going to suggest.

He’d suggested therapy, even couple’s therapy if it made you comfortable. But like the first time he’d suggested it, you closed off. He was the same way when Bradley had told him to start going three months ago. Jake didn’t want to go, he wanted to deal with his feelings himself—just like you were now. But once he’d gone, he couldn’t get enough of it. The feeling of relief he felt after the first visit was enough to get him to change his mind about therapy all together.

“Baby,” he started, trying not to sound too eager or nagging. “I think it’ll really help.”

“Jake,” you started. “Do you know why I don’t want to go? I don’t want to go because I know what they’ll say. I know what happened wasn’t my fault but it feels like it is.”

He watches as your face falls a bit before you compose yourself and sniffle. His heart broke to see you so down and wanting to give up. In the two years you’d been together and the five since he’d known you, you were always so strong. You never cried, never complained. You didn’t even cry when you fell off the ladder going into the back of the jet two years ago and twisted the shit out of your ankle.

No, you were headstrong and unmoving. So to see you uncaring and wanting to give up, hurt him more than anything in the world.

Bullets hurt less than this.

“I shouldn’t have let you fly with me,” Jake whispers, looking down at his hands by your thigh. “I should’ve asked Mav to move you with Bradshaw, forced you to stay behind. I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have known what was coming,” you tell him. “No one could’ve known.”

“So then why do you take the blame yourself?” He asks you, head shooting up to look at you. “Why can’t you let me take some of the blame?”

“Because I want you to have that peace of mind that you weren’t at fault!” You exclaim, scaring yourself. “I could’ve done better. I should’ve done better.”

Jake takes your hand, putting the mug on the floor away from him. His green eyes search yours for any hint of the person you once were before that awful mission.

But you were gone.

You were there, but you were gone.

The person he fell in love with was broken, maybe just resting behind that broken shell you put out. Your eyes seemed vacant and your face paler than normal, almost a ghost of who had been. He wouldn’t allow it to over take you, he couldn’t.

“You are so much more than what you think you are.” He watches as your eyes water, brows furrowing in thought and sadness. “Our jet getting shot down was not your fault. If anything, it’s our fault.”

“Jake—”

“No,” he starts. “You’re everything I need and where you need to be. Don’t ever think you’re less than that because of a mistake we both made.”

He watches you intently, almost begging with his eyes for you to take in his words. He wanted a reaction, something to show you’d understood his words and took them into your heart.

“You’re so much more than you think you are,” he continued. His eyes water as he says, “I need you to know you’re something more than what you think you are. I need you to know that what happened falls in both of us and if you think you’re a shitty person, then so am I.”

Jake couldn’t contain the tears now. He cried, wiping his eyes quickly before looking and searching yours for any sort of emotion. He was surprised to find that you’d finally shown an ounce of compassion for him—for yourself. Your hands cradle his face before you press your lips against his, kissing him firmly and deeply with tears falling from your eyes.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll try to do better. For you.”

Jake hugs you, burying his face into your neck and inhaling deeply.

“Just so you don’t call yourself a shitty person,” you add with a small chuckle.

He pulls away with a soft smile before pecking you in the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake thought you were talking out of your ass to get him to stop crying. But when you asked to join him the next day at his therapy session, he knew you’d meant it. Though he knew it’d take a bit to get you back to how you were before the mission, he was glad you wanted to take the next steps to recover—to heal.

Because he knew you wanted to be more than your failure.

He knew you wanted to get better.

And god, did he pray that you could be. Because he knew you were in there. And he couldn’t wait to see you become something more.

[mullet-stan101]

Werewolf Stan x Reader

Chapter 2, tw: just some mentions of physical pain and transformation (might elaborate more in further chapters)

It’s been a month since Stan was bit and three weeks since he fell sick from the bite. Ford hasn’t been able to do anything but keep him comfortable while he waits for the inevitable. Y/n on the other hand, doesn’t look at it so technically…she sympathizes with Stan as she can tell he’s obviously been through something rough.

Stan blinks and rubs his eyes as he wakes in the morning. Light filters in despite the thick private curtains in Ford’s spare room, and he looks around in confusion. He doesn’t recognize the house at all, he doesn’t even remember how he got here.

“Geesh what happened…”

He rubs his shoulder and his head snaps back as that makes him remember, but he’s surprised to see nothing but skin. Despite being tired and confused…he feels amazing. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up slowly.

“Stanford…?”

Y/n glances up from the kitchen as she hears him, and he walks in. He does look a lot better…now that he’s not covered in grime and blood she can definitely tell that they’re twins, even with the weight and hair difference.

“Hi…you hungry?”

Stan glances up a little surprised but he remembers, smiling a little sheepishly as he’s just in his wife beater and boxers. 

“Yeah…starved. Where’s Ford?”

She shrugs as she cracks some eggs into a pan and starts to scramble them, dressed in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. 

“Down in the lab as usual…he barely ever comes out.”

Stan nods slowly and sits down. He checks her out a little from behind, she’s very pretty. He’s surprised that Ford landed her.

“Uh…thanks for convincing him to let me stay…”

He trails off as he never caught her name and she smiles softly.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n…well- I’m Stanley, call me Stan though. So…how’d you and ol’ sixer get together?”

She blinks and then chuckles as she realizes what he means. 

“Together? Oh gosh no...at least- not now.”

She hesitates a little as she doesn’t want to admit that she hoped for that at first, but Ford has changed since college.

“I just work for him, all of his projects and stuff y’know?’

“So you’re a nerd too, huh?”

She laughs softly and slides him a plate of scrambled eggs.

“Pretty much- but a different type I guess. Ford is the chemistry and supernatural nerd, I’m just the engineer. And a little animal fascination I guess.”

Stan nods and smiles softly, eating the eggs and thanking you. You both eat breakfast quietly until Ford comes back upstairs, looking a little frazzled and sleep-deprived. Seeing Stan up and better would usually make him relieved but this makes him even more nervous. He walks over and without hesitation pries his mouth open and shines a light in his eyes.

“Hey-! What the heck??”

Ford huffs as he reluctantly moves back out of Stan’s personal space, Stan rubbing his jaw with a glare as he’d just been grabbed like a lab rat. 

“You look completely healthy…I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Stan frowns at this in confusion. 

“Wait and see what?” 

Ford scoffs as he opens the fridge. 

“This doesn’t concern either of you? Your bite healed a day after you were bit, you’ve just been sick for nearly a month. Today is a full moon, does that ring a bell?”

Stan scoffs and nearly chuckles at how crazy that sounds. 

“You’ve been reading too much monster junk, Sixer. If you’re about to tell me I’m a werewolf you’re wrong…and nuts.” 

“What bit you huh, Stanley? I bet you’ll say a big dog won’t you?”

Stan smirks as his mouth opens to retort but he closes it as Ford says that last statement. 

“Uh- yeah…that’s what it looked like to me.”

Ford shakes his head with a sigh, taking a swig of coffee as he adjusts his glasses. 

“Just as I thought…you need to stay here tonight…maybe from now on.”

“What?? Like some kinda lab rat, no thanks. I just needed you to fix me up and you did, now just a couple days to get back on my feet and I’ll be fine.”

Y/n frowns softly as she looks at him. 

“Ford’s right Stanley…I didn’t believe him at first, but this can’t be a coincidence.”

Stan frowns at this, thinking she was on his side and he shakes his head with a scoff.

“I can’t even believe this- I’m stayin’ for a bit anyways but no more prying my mouth open, ok?”

Ford nods and leaves Stan alone, and y/n eventually follows as she goes to help him. Stan is left alone in the kitchen and once they’re gone he can’t help but think about what they said, and he hates to admit that it scares him. 

***

That evening he’s internally on edge whereas Ford doesn’t hide it at all. He preps one of his spare rooms and gets y/n to help him secure it. Stan watches quietly from the couch, his brow knit in worry…he watches y/n and he can’t help but admire her skillful nature compared to his brother’s smarts. The sun begins to set and they finish, Ford anxious as he fiddles around with his equipment and y/n notices how anxious Stan is, sitting next to him quietly.

“I know you’re probably nervous…”

Stan scoffs and chuckles, attempting to hide it. 

“Me? Nervous? Hell, I've fought off prison guards and gang members, I’ll be fine.”

She frowns a little, her eyes soft as she can see right through it. 

“Well if you are nervous don’t worry, you may have to go through it tonight, but Ford’s smart. If anyone could figure out the cure to lycanthropy it’d be him.”

“You’re sure…?”

She smiles softly and nods, to which Stan lets his cocky look fall, looking a little nervous.

“It’s the suspense…if it’s really going to happen I’m gonna feel it. Why the hell is this happening?? This isn’t supposed to be real!”

“I-I really don’t know…it’s something about this place. I’ve never seen anything like it before either.”

Stan sighs and he looks at her, his brown eyes more worried and scared than when he was even sick. The night gets later and he gets progressively more nervous, Ford eventually pushes him to go into the room and he does. The two sit outside his room anxiously as the moon begins to rise, and Stan sits inside, watching and waiting for what feels like his impending doom. His breathing grows shallow as his hands begin to shake and he clamps them in his lap.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…chill out, Stan c’mon-”

He groans as a deep ache ripples down his spine and he leans forward with a gasp. Slowly his body begins to swell and contort as he whimpers in pain and fear. 

“N-no…no…” 

He yelps in pain as it shocks through his system, his body contorting and growing as he can’t deny it anymore. Y/n’s head snaps up as she hears the sounds in the room and she looks to Ford who is trying to stay stern. She flinches as there’s a thump and whimpers and growls before it goes completely silent. The two sit there in silence for a few minutes, before the sound of low whimpering seeps into the living room. Her heart clenches hearing this, despite the idea of a werewolf being one room over, she can’t help but feel bad for Stan.

“Ford…we’re not just going to sit here are we?”

Ford glances up with a frown.

“Well yes- we can’t risk anything, even if it’s my brother.” 

Her brow furrows in concern and she scoffs as she steps towards the door.

“How do we expect to help him if you don’t even want to see him like this? You’ll risk your life to go hunt some random crap in the woods but not to help your brother? I’m gonna check on him.”

Ford’s eyes widen as she goes to unlock the door and he stands up quickly to grab her hand. 

“No! Are you crazy? A werewolf is a werewolf! Stan or not-”

She opens the door slowly and stiffens, in the dark of the small room a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her, an enormous wolf. 

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

I've been having a rough time emotionally for the last few months. My relationship is in shambles and I prefer to be at work than at home with my mother and daughter. I cross stitch daily now, wanting to make things to sell possibly at craft fairs or wherever. I was listening to a religious podcast that I have been listening to for the last couple years, and they spoke of body image. I have always understood that I am ugly. I have since high school at least but it's become more apparent as I get older. In 8 years my boyfriend has never called me beautiful. The best he seems to be able to say is pretty. He was my first everything at 22. I look at myself in the mirror and see nothing special. I can clean up well, as my profile picture shows. I see a disgusting monster of a woman. But I'm so numbed to it now that I just accept and move on. That "ugly privilege" is real, and I experienced it in real life. I've never had a man hit on me. Even my boyfriend never did, we met online. But I'll be damned if I will ever let my daughter know how I feel about myself. She's beautiful and I don't know how she came from me. I pray that she gets to experience dating in school where I never did, maybe having someone ask her to dances or give her a flower on valentine's day. I won't ever let her see that I know and understand that I'm hideous and fat and unlovable. Just as long as she knows that she's beautiful, and so so loved.

I am so fucking alone. I shouldn't want to be at work instead of being him. All I do now is sew, work on tumblr, listen to audiobooks, read, work, and sleep. I'm losing my will to do much else. I'm not allowed to do much else.

[innerchorus]

SOON.

The blurb (according to Google Translate) says 'The resurrected Parsian warriors stand before Arslan and his companions!!'

[horreurscopes]

transfiguration's gonna come for me at last, and i will burn brighter than the sun

[kyo-hiki]

thinking about him... <3

[curlytsunamiart]

if you care, the universe cares

[menaceanon]

So I met KA Applegate.

I might have cried on her a little as she signed my yellow old Animorphs book. Just a little!

But… when I was a little kid I had an undiagnosed learning disorder and I hated reading. It was boring and stressful, and I wasn’t sure why I was supposed to care, anyway. Overnight, though, Animorphs turned me into the sort of kid who always had a book squirreled away somewhere—under every dinner table, school desk, and blanket after bedtime.

At that age I was surrounded by trauma and traumatized people, and it was such a genuine wonder to read books so compassionately about that exact thing. They never pulled punches, never told you it was all okay, actually, and never pretended that good people couldn’t hurt you, or that bad people couldn’t love you. But they did say, by god, you could still fight for something better. You shouldn’t have to. But you could.

I rambled a very abbreviate version of this at her, then blurted out, “It was the first time a book looked back at me.” At which point—and I want yall to put this on my tombstone—she said, “Oh! You’re a writer,” and asked if she could steal that line.

She had on trans pride earrings.

[thatrandomblogsays]

It’s a fun video, check her out @what-is-my-aesthetic

My favorite part was her immediately checking out CSPAN footage after showing my meme and…

Mood girlie, mood…

(if you had kept watching you would’ve seen the senators almost break into a brawl…)

[spiraledeyes]

hi im listening to Cats the musical for the first time (1998)

something incredibly queer about that "MAAAGICAL" Tugger yells after Mistoffelees' solo

[necrotic-nephilim]

i love your fics and the ideas you describe for the ask games. i'm especially fond of your takes on the rarer pairings and i always smile when i see your posts in the ship tags <3

and don't stress too much about not posting anything, real life is important and participating in fandom should be fun, not something you have to force yourself to do. god knows fandom burnout is real, especially if you feel like people are expecting something from you. just keep doing what makes you happy :)

ghgfhgjhkjhjhg this was so sweet, thank you so much! i *love* talking about rarer rarepairs, especially if it gets other people to ship them too. the popular ships are fun and all, but i truly love spreading rarepair propaganda.

that's very reassuring, thank you <3 i've loved everything i posted here so far and have not felt pushed to post anything i haven't enjoyed, but sometimes i forget i can like. use this blog for whatever i want and not *just* headcanons/fics/mets/etc lol. and i also forget i don't have to rush myself. it's annoying to want to write and either not have time or not have the words work. i used to run a fandom blog in my teens that got very large and felt like a chore and i was so stressed about the need to perform and the numbers and all of that. like if a fic didn't do well i saw it as a personal failing and forced myself to write popular headcanons just for the numbers game. was not fun or sustainable in the long run and i think it contributed to me no longer having any taste for the ship i primarily wrote for. so for too long i treated existing in fandom like a job lol. i've mostly gotten it through to myself that this is a space for me, but i occasionally forget when i'm so caught up in all the things i want to get to for this blog. my to-write list is a mile long and i need to be bonked with a paper towel roll, i think. so it's very kind of you to say this bc the reminder is nice <3

[zombeesknees]

As of 10/18/23:

Now that we've officially marched on the boss and openly declared, I can publicly drop this news that's been several weeks in the making:

The Bloomington, IL, Barnes & Noble is unionizing with the RWDSU.

[gilgil-machine]

This man always knows when to come to me and cheer me up. Thank you, Gil🥺🥲❤️‍🩹