#its wicked pms

[tabooiart]

a good witch, a bad witch, and a lame ass wizard

added them to the line up as well

[monabee-draws]

Sometimes I want to get invested in a new rarepair and then I look it up only to realise that the fans of said rarepair are crazy and mischaracterise one of half of the canon ship so that they can justify breaking them up for the sake of the rarepair😮‍💨 people need to learn that multishipping without character assasination is 100% totally possible and people break up for neutral reasons all the time OR the magic of fanworks is that you can pretend the original ship never got together in the first place. Or, you know, polyamoury🌈

[aro-ace-thetic]

WHAT THE FUCK GO TO BED

i do spooky. i do. i really do.

[dev1lm4n]

familiar face

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're wicked fantasies' number one fan, who would've guessed that he'd be a part of your host family.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, masturbation, internet porn, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: this is set on 2013 like the game, but characters are potrayed like how they did in the series. send me a req or chat me!

To say you’re obsessed would be an understatement to the severity of your addiction. 

Enslaved to this certain habit of yours, your mind was wrapped around it like a wrapper to a gas station lollipop. Tacky and overzealous. A constant revolting urge that needed relieving, tension that made guts throb and lungs squeaking out for dear life when not pleased. This addiction of yours wasn’t as customary as slender rolls of cigarettes and weed brownies, it was a little odd and shameful to admit to. Still, it was a part of you. Even when you’d rather shuffle it into a dark corner than be confronted by it.

You couldn’t remember how it all started, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. Would it be shameless if you openly admit that you always open up a schedule for it? It became a routine. Perhaps the unfinished papers, the impossibly low marks, and the frequent suffering was what drove you to it. It served as an easy release. No hassle. No awkward ha-ha-has and faking ah-ah-ahs. No mindless chattering over football or the current state of the government to earn what you truly want: a good fucking orgasm.

This addiction comes in the form of a man. 

A man who exists within the confines of your 13-inch laptop. More precisely, within a specific site that begins with the abbreviation for pornography and ends with hub.

Your eyes cruised over the edge of your lousy laptop, which still continues to emit a weird helicopter noise despite your latest visit to a technician, to find the time. To your pleasure, it marked precisely 11 PM, the exact time in which you promised yourself to put an end to your essay despite how unmethodical it looked. A silent smile made its way to your lips as your cursor quickly pressed the x button, before surely making its way to create a new tab.

“P”

Just the single letter quickly brought up your most frequent website. A simple website predominantly black with splashes of yellow accents, though what was exceptionally appealing was the instant stimuli given from the front page. Your eyes twinkled like a starved pervert. What greeted your eyes first was a lady facing your way. Preppy rounded glasses with a shade of mauve lipstick you’re quite fond of, dressed in what you could only assume to be a dollar tree medical gown. She looked like she’s in pure bliss, like the curved cock stuffing her cunt was enough to leave her boneless. “Creepy Doctor Convinces Young Asian Medical Intern to Fuck to Get Ahead” - what an odd title you remark internally.

You scrolled lower with two fingers on the track pad as if it’d get interesting - you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help feeling curious at what other people jerk off to. “Amateur FOURSOME have FUN. Rough, wet, & sloppy” was what caught your eyes next by the sheer visual it played out as a preview. Two girls were slobbering on two separate weeping cocks. Blinding porn lighting harsh against their faces as they forced their heads down it with overdone expressions. You knew it didn’t feel good. Not when he’s rubbing her labia like a DJ. Not when he’s pistoning in her like he’s a horse in heat with no tempo whatsoever. Were you being way too tough on porn production? Unreasonably so.

Just like you’re programmed in your line of codes, you typed out his channel next.

“Wicked Fantasies”

His channel popped up on top with 150K subscribers, 4.1K friends, and 50.7M video views. For a minute, your mind raced to imagine if you’d stood out to him compared to the rest of his 149.999 subscribers. If he'd like you. If you're pretty enough to join his selected pick of co-stars. It’s stupid, you’re painfully aware, to fantasize about getting personal with a porn actor. You shook the silly thought away immediately as you slowly glided your fingers across your touchpad to admire his works. He was just so.. breathtaking in every single video despite the lack of face in some. A diverse line of co-stars - pale, tanned, dark - did nothing but help put his devilish charms forth.

You let your fingers stroke the inside of your thigh, the part that’s lightly exposed. It’s shameful to admit that you’ve watched all his videos, but you did. Each and every one of them with no fail. Despite the familiarity, every footage presented on his page does nothing but rile you up, sending you to a frenzied madness. You let out a small longing sigh. Your gentle fingers slowly brush over the thin material of your panties, over your throbbing hole, feeling the moisture grow there.

“20 year old Babysitter takes a rough fucking for extra cash Watch her face when it goes in!” appealed to you more than anything. Partially because you’d wish you could babysit his children if it meant you’d be able to get that kind of method of transaction, you practically salivate at the thought alone. The preview played. Short clips compiled together to compel watchers and god damn was it working. Your breath grew shallow as if the oxygen surrounding you was as good as solid matter. Still, you worked your way down the page to evaluate all your options thoroughly.

“Please cum in my pussy. Sweet May earns a huge creampie after a deep sensual fucking” was what you settled with. His promise was what drew you in, to cum in her pussy and show his masterpiece. The way you clicked onto the title was feverish, even more when you had it on full screen. Your laptop was cushioned on a haphazard of pillows, allowing you to get into a more accommodating position. You laid on your side, before shuffling off your shorts from the waist band. A nervous puff of air barely escaped your lips as you clicked play.

The video ran.

Your throat bobbed nervously.

His videos were always edited in a way that shows his age. Cursive letters noting down his and his co-star’s name - with a font you knew only people over the age of thirty would use - entered your screen for a split second before it quickly cuts off to another scene. What you could only describe as a reassuring grunt seeped through your cable earphones and onto your nerve receptors, causing your hole to twitch impatiently.

You could see him clearly now.

Well, not all that clear, but you could see his half hard cock prodding the girl’s soft lips. Her dirty blonde hair framed her face prettily as she took him in with such expertise. He molded her mouth to the shape of his cock - slow but sure - right to the very hilt, before pulling her back out. A sloppy wet trail left behind to gleam under the dim lights. It’s incredibly sensual, none of the obviously fake porny moans in motion, and it left you wondering if he’d morph your chaste mouth to the size of his as well. Would he like that? 

Another scene cuts through the view. This time he was gently running his calloused fingers down her core, barely over the thick stripe of hair, then it went over her hip bone and back to her thighs. May, who you knew by heart from all the videos she had with him, didn’t say a word. Not even a small hitch in her breath. If you were there, you’d sure to be a whimpering mess just by him touching. Just by that throaty chuckle he lets out when he's amused.

You’re five minutes into the video when he finally relieved you of your suffering. He was on his knees, bending her pliant body down on her fours. His large hands gripped over the skin on May’s hip for support as he sheathed himself in one go. It went deep, you know that for sure from the way she let out a satisfied moan. Her face contorted when he pulled back and thrusted all the way in once more. You could feel it now; the way your pelvis spasmed at the sight even when you’re barely hovering your palm over your clothed center. She was the one getting fucked, but you could feel his phantom thrust pounding slowly. Over and over again.

He was cut off right by the shoulder, but he made an appearance when he slightly leaned down to gather her hair into a loose bundle and he was a dream. Dark hair with light speckles of grays you could barely make out from the quality of the video. His brown eyes pierced into the camera - as if he’s watching your needy expression, making fun of the way you couldn’t help but rub your fingers over your sensitive nub because God does it feel good. It sent shivers right down your spine,  

You were entirely sure he was trying to edge you, because the next scene had you bucking your knees forward to add that extra pressure. He had May down on her back with his camera hovering over her, capturing the way in which he forced his way in. His ruddy tip nudged her hole as if it was a gentle knock to a neighbor’s door. It wasn’t enough anymore, you had to pull your panties to the side. With your bare cunt exposed, you gently tapped your clit with the tip of your finger, feeling the sensitivity start to build at the directness.

Your unoccupied hand slowly slipped under your shirt, tracing over your oversensitive skin before it nestled around your nipple, squeezing and running your fingers right on the center of the hardened lump. May didn’t even resemble you, but you could fantasize yourself in her position. He abandoned the camera spotlighting his close-ups to bend her in a nicer position. With her legs up together facing the ceiling above them, in order to create a nice tightness for him to make use of. May bit her thumb in exchange. A chorus of soft, feather-light feminine moans followed his every move. You could hear him now, breathing terribly unstable as he found a way to insert himself deeper.

“Such a smart girl,” he whispered.

He had her in a mating press. His large forearm supported the rock of his hips and you obsessed over it, how it’d perhaps feel when he held her by the thighs. How it’d feel if it found its way around your neck to constrict it, to choke you as he bullied his cock in your leaking pussy. You let your pointer finger spread the slickness down your heat, making its rounds around your clit, before probing it right inside. Just one because that's all you managed to get confident in. The cushy feeling was way too familiar for you and you wished it was someone else’s finger - maybe a larger one like Wicked Fantasies’ - but you’re well grateful with yours.

“Yeah. You like it deep?”

He asked with that Texan twang of his. The teasing lilt of his voice does well to compliment the skillful way in which he stretched May’s hole. You could barely see him in frame, but you’d catch glimpses of his boyish grin each time. It drove you to pump your finger faster, In and out, in and out, steady to the way he moved his hips.

“You feel it in your tummy?”

He attempted once again, but the helpless girl could only moan out a barely there response. You were reacting frantically though. So turned on by the sight alone that you had to dig your canines onto the tender skin of your hand. You wanted him so badly, it’s making you spill all over. Slick ran down your thighs to your unmade bed, drool spread across your hand as you continued to muffle out your pathetic noises.

“Please cum in my pussy,” May could hardly whimper. The desperation in her voice made you grind your pelvis onto your palm in an equally desperate manner.

“You want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you up?”

Yes, please, please fill me up, plagued your mind. You curled your fingers inside, a pathetic attempt to stroke that sweet spot inside. 

Over and over again as the man in the video groaned lowly. When he let out an almost animalistic growl to end his rodeo, you faltered quickly. Your leg twitched as your orgasm began to taper. Quickly like a full sweep on a bowling course, knocking down all that’s left of your dignity. You managed to keep your voice low, but you couldn’t say the same about the absurd amount of wetness soiling your bed sheets. The scene cut off to him showing off his pearlescent load deep inside of her and it almost made you cum a second time.

Wicked Fantasies had 149.999 other subscribers, but you’re sure you were the filthiest out of all of them.

Austin was nothing like you’d expect. The vibrant blue van you’ve rode in for an entire day or so slowly rolled to a stop in front of a classic suburban home. Empty roads and loud calls of cockerels audible even from within the confines of metal walls. The van’s engine hummed softly as it idled, tinted windows reflecting the honeyed rays of the morning sun. This was your stop. A house of character with an eye-catching letter eleven hammered sloppily down the porch, a lone pick-up truck parked right down the center, and a red mailbox that was stuffed to the very brim with spam.

As you stepped out, you were quickly enveloped by warm air, causing beads to form evidently on your forehead. The humid climate was a good reminder that you’ve stepped into another realm, a new page to your life which held Texas’ scorching sun and faint whiffs of leather. You looked rather.. constipated standing on the very end of the driveway. Like a knock-off salesman with a large tote slung over your left shoulder and a suitcase tight against your right. The look on your face didn’t help either, a concoction of sleep deprived and nervous.

You willed yourself to march towards the front porch.

That went well.

What came next was to knock and you swore you get entirely weak in the knees when the realization came sweeping in.

After a series of pacing back-and-forth and tugging at both ends of your lips to train a polite smile on, you knocked on the large front door. Once. Twice. Then, one last time. Wooden doors always sound incredibly heavy and imposing, you cringed at the mere sound.

A few hurried thuds echoed to where you’re standing and you’ve never felt more desperate to make a run for it before someone made it to the front door. What if they’re a sleazy nasty couple who’d want to traffic you into some weird foot-fetish chain? What if they’re a pair of delusional flat earth believers that unironically declined the existence of climate change? What if-

The door swung open in one grand motion. 

You had always been a pessimist - the world always seems to fuck you up in the most creative way possible - but what met your gaze was a young girl. Her hair was like coils of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the sun; each curl trembled subtly in a humid breeze, a compliment to her doe eyes. She greeted you with a gentle smile. One that speaks language the two of you understood without fail. In return, you tilted your head in a friendly manner as you adorned a sheepish look.

“Hey. You’re the exchange student, right? Come inside!” She invited you in with an astonishing amount of energy considering it’s barely past six. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning, y’know.”

You nodded surely as you awkwardly shimmied your way around her lithe figure. It’s taking all of you to not do a full head-to-toe scan of what she looks like out of sheer curiosity, but you thrive in the short glances you could catch of her. Was she the daughter in this family? It’d be nice to have someone you could relate to, maybe.. maybe you could even paint your nails together and relish in fun girly activities.

“Sorry. Our van broke down on the highway,” you gave your lousy excuse.

“No need. My dad’s not even up yet,” she spoke with a small sigh. Her long fingers massaged circles on her knotted temple as if emphasizing her irritation. “Just put your bags down here. I’ll sort ‘em out for you this afternoon.”

With her confirmation in mind, you pushed your suitcase over to one side of the hallway, along with the tote which weighed more than you do. Without the accessories you’ve been holding onto from the very start of your trip, you felt naked and exposed. Unsure of how to position your arms and legs. It wasn’t a good look, but you stood entirely still like a Barbie display. Both of your eyes stared down at the younger girl as she swayed her hips to the light music, cooking up something skillfully with the flip of her hand.

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah. Sarah Miller. I know what yours is from my dad,” she looked over her shoulder cheekily.

“Sarah’s a nice name.”

“Is it? I think it sounds aggressively Texan. Like I’d go yeehaw, howdy young lady with cowboy boots and a good plaid shirt on,” she chuckled. “Oh and then I’d lasso you real good.”

Her remarks were as refreshing as a summer breeze even when they’re a tad bit snarky. You already knew that she’s going to get along incredibly well with you. Witnessing her shimmy her shoulders carelessly made you unaware of the heavy thump steadily making its way down the stairs.

“There’s the genius who landed me the name,” Sarah whistled out, pulling you out of your hazy daze.

You turned your head in a one-eighty motion, every last inch of self-control being betrayed at the motion of being finally able to see the man who’d house you. The head of the house who’d you continue to see for the rest of the year. There was a lot of expectation you bore on your shoulders, but what fell beneath your eyes exceeded everything. You weren’t even doing a good job in pretending you’re not entirely taken aback, wide-eyes bulged out of your sockets and you looked more like a cartoon sheep more than anything.

He was beautiful. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he greeted Sarah with that rugged voice of his. You could hear the weight of his step as he made his way over to his daughter. Every move that he made, even the part where he hastily tucked his shirt in his worn-out jeans, made your blood drain. At his arrival, he wrapped his large forearm around her shoulders before landing a sweet kiss on top of her head.

“Our guest has arrived, hm?”

“Yes. You were rude not to greet her in front of our door,” Sarah protested openly as she took hold of the plates she cooked up. She made a double trip from the kitchen to the dining table for the first time in forever since they’re finally upgrading to a three person party.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he offered her a gentle apology before taking a seat in front of the piping hot plates. His legs spread out enough to occupy two leg spaces, though he was left in a masculine position that was charming enough to have you forgive the action. Sarah placed a carton of orange juice on the table aggressively. Some of the containings spurted out and left a pooling mess right by his plate.

“No coffee for you today, dad,” she huffed. Sarah was impatient in starting her breakfast, cutleries already in hand as she dug into the charred sausages.

That was until she realized that you were still standing there on the edge of the room, as out-of-place as ever, looking down at the two as if you’re watching a live sitcom show.

“You’re invited to breakfast too, y’know,” she laughed good-naturedly.

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” you muttered out a brief apology at that before making your way over to the empty seat between the two Millers.

For once, you hoped Sarah wasn’t observant enough to notice the way in which you had your eyes stuck to Mr. Miller’s face with every step that you took. He had the kind of face that stopped people in their tracks. You guessed he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a weak, embarrassed smile. It didn't help that he wasn’t so modest with it. You weren’t sure if you’re imagining things, but you swore his every movement held intention. What his intention was you couldn’t figure out just yet.

“So you’re in your third year of college?” He attempted small talk. You knew it was small talk, but the way he looked in your eyes with such grave intensity had you faltering.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Thought I’d bring a college gal in to bring good influence to this naughty daughter of mine,” he grinned. “She’s been slackin’ off as of lately.”

Sarah beamed him a petulant pout, in which he responded with a handsome smile. His dark brown hair bounced around seamlessly and for a second, just for a split second, he looked rather.. familiar. Was he an old neighbor of yours by chance?

“What d’ya major in?”

“Computer science. I know. Real nerdy, but I swear I’m not a nerd,” you explained before stuffing your mouth with a generous amount of scrambled eggs.

“I don’t know. You’re not all that believable,” Sarah teased. “Bet you read weird comic books for a hobby.”

You jutted out your lips playfully at her response, which earned a hearty set of snickers from your side. Mr. Miller was thoroughly amused by the banter you’ve played out in front of him and in response, blessed you with an array of gruff chuckles. One in which you swore you’ve heard before. The memory was right there on the back of your head, but you could barely reach out for it at the moment.

“Such a smart girl,” he spoke mindlessly.

It was the exact phrase that made your mind slot in the last piece of puzzle to what you’ve been searching for, a reason of why you think he was oddly familiar when you knew for a fact that he lived miles away from you. You weren’t hallucinating, nor were you delusional. 

You knew him.

Far better than you knew anyone else.

He was the man you’ve been watching every day of the week, whether in the depth of the evening or the early mornings. He was the exact man you’ve fantasized for years on end, stuffing your pussy with your fingers or even your toothbrush if you’re feeling adventurous to the thought of him ravaging you. You knew every part of his body, every beauty mark and calluses. You knew which things he liked the most, how he enjoyed being licked on his tip or how he enjoyed plunging into the very hilt. You knew the noises and praises he’d let out.

You knew him in the foulest manner possible.

“Are you okay?” Sarah’s voice brought you back into the real world. The world in which you’re sitting across your porn star crush, eating a good plate of breakfast as if everything is normal. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out the palpable tension.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

pls reblog n comment if u enjoyed this!

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

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[blakeswritingimagines]

From AM To PM (Kinktober)

Word Count: 2.3k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You found yourself in an uncomfortable position, you were once again at Daemon's mercy. You watched him with a mixture of fear and anger, as he stood above you wearing a wicked and hungry look on his face. "Come here, wife," Daemon demanded fiercely, looking down at you with a cruel expression. You looked up at him with defiance, your lip trembling slightly as you tried to hold on to what little dignity you had left. "What do you want?" you asked, trying to hide your tears behind an air of aloofness. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your defiant bratty tone. "I want you," he growled, stepping closer until you could feel his warm breath against your skin. "And I always get what I want." With that, he grabbed your wrists roughly, pinning them above your head. "But tonight… Tonight, I'm not just taking you. I'm claiming you." Your eyes widened as he spoke, the air suddenly growing thick between you. His hold around your wrists tightened, and you could feel the heat of his body pressed against yours. "Let go of me!" you gasped, struggling weakly against his grip as you tried to pull away. But it was futile. Daemon's strength outclassed your delicate body by a significant margin.

"Shh," he hushed you, his voice deep and commanding. "There's no escape for you now, my love." Daemon leaned down, capturing your lips with his own in a rough kiss filled with pent-up desire and frustration. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring the warmth of your mouth aggressively. His free hand roamed over your curves, squeezing and caressing roughly. As his mouth plundered yours, you could taste the possessive hunger behind his intense kiss. His strong hands roamed restlessly over your body, setting your skin on fire with their rough touch. Despite yourself, a small gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, and you could feel a flicker of desire deep inside you. Daemon's tongue continued to ravish your mouth, as he pressed you harder against him, trapping you in his tight embrace. Breaking off the kiss, Daemon looked down at you with lustful eyes. "See how much you crave me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. He began trailing hot kisses down your neck, leaving marks of ownership along your sensitive skin. Each bite sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you squirm beneath him. Your body reacted involuntarily to his touch, your skin tingling wherever he placed his burning kisses. A wave of conflicting emotions surged through you - anger for his arrogance, fear for the way he made you feel, and desire for the pleasure he was igniting within you. You tried to suppress a moan as he continued biting and marking your neck possessively. "Admit it," Daemon purred into your ear, his hot breath causing shivers to run down your spine. "You're mine. And you belong to me." His hand slid lower, cupping your breasts roughly through the fabric of your dress. He squeezed hard, grinding against you as if trying to provoke a reaction.

His words sent a shiver of both anger and desire down your spine. "I'm not yours!" you protested weakly, even as your body betrayed you, arching involuntarily under his touch. As he kneaded your breasts roughly through the fabric. His fingers deftly unfastened the ties of your dress, pulling it apart to reveal your bare flesh. Daemon’s eyes raked over your exposed skin hungrily, taking in every curve and dip before his hand moved to cup one of your breasts fully. His thumb brushed over your hardened nipple, teasing it mercilessly before pinching and rolling both between his fingers. The sensation of his rough hands on your sensitive nipples sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your protests, you couldn't help but push your chest further into his grasp, seeking more of his tantalizing touch. The mix of pain and pleasure made you gasp loudly, your back arching off the bed as you struggled to keep control of your reactions. "That's it, my sweet wife," Daemon cooed darkly, enjoying the effect he was having on you. "Don't fight it. Embrace the pleasure only I can give you." His other hand slid down your stomach, pushing under the hem of your skirt. Calloused fingers brushed against your inner thigh, teasing higher until they reached your most intimate area. He rubbed slow circles over your clothed sex, feeling the dampness already gathering there. "You're already so wet for me," Daemon taunted smugly. "Your body betrays your true desires, even if your mouth refuses to admit it." His crude words and knowing touch drove you mad with a combination of rage and arousal. "Stop it!" you cried out, though the desperation in your voice belied your protestations. Your hips bucked instinctively towards his hand, craving more of the friction he provided. Despite your attempts to maintain some semblance of control, your body was betraying you completely, responding eagerly to his touch.

Daemon chuckled darkly, clearly amused by your feeble attempts to resist him. "Oh, I don't think I will stop," he murmured huskily, continuing his torturous ministrations. "In fact, I'm just getting started." His fingers pushed your undergarments aside, delving into your slick folds without preamble. He stroked along your slit, gathering your essence before circling your sensitive nub. Pleasure sparked through you, making you clench around nothing. "Look at you," Daemon purred, watching your face intently before dragging you over to a mirror in the corner of the room and turning you around. "So desperate for my touch, yet still pretending otherwise. It's adorable, really." Two fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your channel, pumping slowly as his thumb continued its relentless assault on your aching clit. "Surrender to me, wife." You felt humiliation as Daemon turned you to face the mirror, forcing you to witness your own degradation. The sight of your reflection - hair disheveled, eyes glazed with lust, lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure - only fueled your shame. Yet, despite everything, your body continued to respond to his touch, your inner walls clenching greedily around his invading fingers. "Daemon…" you whimpered, but it sounded more like a plea than a denial. "Please…" Your words trailed off into a choked moan as Daemon's skilled fingers worked you over, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of climax. In that moment, you knew you were lost, utterly consumed by the darkness of your own desires. There would be no escaping Daemon's claim on you, not now, not ever.

Daemon's eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched you unravel before him, your reflection mirroring the turmoil in your mind. "That's it, my love," he crooned, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Let go. Give in to the pleasure only I can provide." His fingers curled inside you, rubbing that secret spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids. At the same time, his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your core. Daemon commanded, his voice low and urgent as his free hand moved up to your breasts and started toying with your nipples roughly. "Show me how much you need me." "No! Please, Daemon, please let me cum!" you begged shamelessly, your hips bucking frantically against his hand, trying desperately to regain that lost contact. Tears of frustration streamed down your face as you writhed helplessly in his iron grip. The cruel denial of release after being brought so close to the brink was almost too much to bear. "I need it… I need you… Please, have mercy!" you sobbed brokenly, all traces of pride and defiance stripped away. In that moment, you would have promised him anything, done anything, just to feel the blissful rush of completion. A smirk tugged at Daemon's lips as he witnessed your complete surrender. "Mercy is not something I am known for," he growled, his tone harsh and unyielding. But then, just when you thought you'd never reach that peak again, Daemon allowed you a fraction of relief. His thumb resumed its maddening rhythm on your clit while his fingers returned to your dripping entrance. This time, however, he teased you mercilessly. Aiming to drive you over the edge again and again.

The sudden return of his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body once more, reigniting the fire within you. Your cries grew louder, more desperate as he toyed with you mercilessly, driving you toward the brink again and again. "Daemon, please…" you pleaded, your voice breaking with each denied orgasm. The constant teetering on the edge was excruciating, leaving you panting and trembling beneath him. "Patience, my dear," Daemon breathed out, his voice thick with lust. He wanted to draw this out and savor every moment of your submission. To see you beg for him, plead for release. "You will cum when I say so, and not a moment sooner." With that promise, he increased the pace of his fingers, curling them deeper inside you while his thumb danced over your swollen clit. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The relentless assault on your senses left you gasping and whimpering beneath him, your body wracked with pleasure. Each thrust of his fingers, each brush of his thumb sent jolts of ecstasy coursing through your veins. "I-I can't…" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-it feels too good…" Your words dissolved into helpless moans as Daemon kept you teetering on the brink, prolonging your torment with ruthless efficiency. Daemon reveled in the sounds of your anguished pleasure, drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath him. Your words only spurred him on, eager to push you past the point of no return. "Yes, you can," he insisted, his voice low and commanding. "You will take everything I give you and beg for more." To punctuate his point, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries as his fingers pistoned in and out of you at a punishing pace. His thumb circled your clit furiously, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Just as you neared the precipice once more, Daemon tore his hand away again before using both hands to cup your breasts roughly. His pale skin was shiny which he growled and possessively wiped it across your damp skin.

The sudden absence of his touch after being pushed so close to climax left you reeling, your body screaming for relief. As he manhandled your breasts, his possessive growl and the smear of his sweaty palm against your skin only heightened your desire. "Please, Daemon," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. "I can't take anymore. I need to cum, I need you." Your pleas were raw, stripped of any remaining dignity as you surrendered completely to your basest needs. Daemon's eyes flashed with triumphant hunger at your desperate pleas. He had broken you, shattered your resistance until all that remained was a willing vessel for his pleasure. "Since you asked so nicely," he purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. Slowly, teasingly, he lowered his hand back between your thighs, his fingers gliding through your soaked folds. He gathered your essence, coating his digits thoroughly before plunging two fingers deep inside your aching heat. At the same time, his thumb found your clit once more, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Cum for me, wife," Daemon commanded, his voice a low, authoritative rumble. "Let me feel you shatter, but look in the mirror as you fall apart under my touch." Your breath hitched as Daemon's fingers slid back inside you, stretching and filling you perfectly. The sensation of his thumb working your clit in tandem with his penetrating fingers was too much to bear. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, threatening to erupt at any moment. When Daemon's command registered, you forced yourself to meet his gaze in the mirror, your eyes wide and glassy with need. The sight of your own wanton expression only added fuel to the fire consuming you. With a keening wail, you finally tipped over the edge, your inner walls clamping down around Daemon's fingers as waves of intense pleasure crashed over you. Your vision blurred, and your body convulsed, shaking through the most powerful orgasm of your life.

The sight of you coming undone, the sound of your wild cries echoing in the room, was enough to send Daemon spiraling into his own climax. He rode out your orgasm with you, his fingers pumping relentlessly as he drank in the sight of your throes of pleasure. "Fuck yes, look at you," he groaned, his voice rough with arousal. "So beautiful when you're mine." As your spasms began to subside, Daemon withdrew his fingers slowly, smearing your juices along your lower lips. He stepped back, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned down, pressing a hard, possessive kiss to your swollen lips. You moaned softly into the kiss, still quivering from the aftershocks of your earth-shattering orgasm. Daemon's taste mingled with your own musk as he plundered your mouth, claiming you utterly. Your arms wrapped around his neck instinctively, pulling him closer even as your legs trembled with residual weakness. When he finally broke the kiss, you gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, your expression one of dazed satiation. "Thank you," you whispered hoarsely, your voice roughened by your cries of passion. "For giving me what I needed." Even now, you knew it was true - Daemon had given you exactly what you craved, whether you admitted it or not. He fulfilled you in ways no other ever could. Daemon's smirk returned as he looked down at you, seeing the post-orgasmic glow on your skin. "You're welcome, my sweet," he purred, his voice low and husky with lingering desire. "But don't think this means you've earned any special treatment. We're far from done here." With that ominous warning, he grasped your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding you in place as he loomed over you. His free hand trailed down your side, squeezing and groping your curves possessively. "Now, let's see how well you can handle another round, shall we?"

[reality-detective]

It's going to be biblical 👇

The only conclusion here is: AMERICA....REPENT!

Think the coming eclipse is nothing? I did, too, until I discovered all these FACTS!

I don't claim to know what all of this means, exactly, but I believe it's important enough for all of us to be aware that this is happening and pray for wisdom.

On April 8th, 2024, there will be an eclipse. One eclipse is already amazing but this one is actually the last in a 3-part series that has SO much meaning behind it. It is important that we recognize that God said that He would use the sun, moon and stars to communicate with us:

Genesis 1:14- "Then God said, 'Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years..."

Luke 21:25 - "There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea."

So now we know that God said that He would use the sun, moon and stars to communicate with us, so let's break down this 3-part eclipse series:

1) With the path of this last eclipse, combined with the first 2 eclipses (one in 2017 and the other in 2023), it will create the Hebrew letter over America that is "Aleph Tav" and in Greek it is the "Alpha and Omega" - both means "The beginning and the end." God said in Revelation 21:6 that He is the beginning and the end and this Aleph Tav is like His signature. Why would He use an eclipse to put His signature over America? Let's dig deeper:

2) God has used eclipses to warn nations of coming judgement so that the nation can repent of their sinful ways and come back to Him. This happened with the story of Ninevah. God told Jonah to go to the wicked nation of Ninevah and warn them about coming judgement. Jonah ran away from the assignment and while out at sea got swallowed up by a huge fish and was in its belly for 3 days. Jonah repented of running away so the whale spit him up. He then went to Ninevah and warned the people but there was something that also happened while he was warning the people...an eclipse came over the land.

In the 19th century, ancient tablets were discovered that described an eclipse called the Bur-Sagale eclipse where the totality of the eclipse landed right over Ninevah while Jonah was there preaching of the 40 day warning before the coming destruction. Because of this, the people realized that this was a sign from God that what Jonah was saying was true and they repented and God spared their nation.

It is amazing how much America mirrors Ninevah. (If you don't see it, you may be part of the problem.) To make this even more clear, this last eclipse on April 8th will be going over 7 cities here in America called - yep you guessed it - NINEVAH! I honestly didn't even know that we had any city here in the U.S. named that but here we are - with this eclipse going over these cities (and there will be an 8th one that it goes over also called Ninevah in Canada.)

Here are the cities: 👇

Nineveh, Texas

Nineveh, Missouri

Nineveh, Indiana (this will be the highest magnitude of eclipse Mag 1.023, the local time predicted for it to occur is at 3:07 PM)

Nineveh, Ohio

Nineveh, Pennsylvania

Nineveh, Virginia

Nineveh, New York

Nineveh, Nova Scotia (Not in the US)

Could this be that God is warning us just as He warned Ninevah? There have been many "Jonahs" in the past few years warning the nation that we need to repent and add in this sign above our heads - we can't turn away from the fact that it is not a coincidence. But if you need more proof, let's keep going...

The first part of this 3 part eclipse series was in 2017. The path of that eclipse went over 7 cities named Salem, which is short for Jerusalem (Ps. 76).

Salem, Oregon

Salem, Idaho

Salem, Wyoming

Salem, Nebraska

Salem, Missouri

Salem, Kentucky

Salem, South Carolina

The mathematical "chances" of there being 7 Salem's with the first eclipse and then 7 Ninevah's for the 3rd eclipse is unthinkable. But what about the 2nd part of the eclipse?

4) Perhaps the most striking piece of the 2nd eclipse is that the precise center-line of eclipse path exits the USA directly over Corpus Christi. Corpus Christi means the "Body of Christ" and is one of the only towns named that in the world!

But let's go back to this upcoming eclipse and dig even deeper...

4) Jonah was giving a 40 day warning to Ninevah during the eclipse. If you look at our April 8th eclipse and fast forward 40 days then you will get to May 18, 2024 - the day before Pentecost. The history of Pentecost is that is the last Spring Feast that the Lord has given us (there are 4 in the Spring and 3 in the Fall). This is the day that the Lord sent the Holy Spirit down to all those who have accepted Christ. We are told that the "Restrainer" (many believe this is the Holy Spirit) will be removed before the Tribulation could it be that this is a warning for that? I'm not sure as that is a worldwide event and this eclipse will be just over North America but it is something definitely to think and pray about for more clarity and wisdom. No matter what, there are too many things lining up for it to not be nothing and so my job is to get the information out to you all so that you can at least be aware of these signs that God is giving us so that you can pray about it.

But let's keep going...

5) From the start of this 3 part eclipse to the end, it will be 7 years. God uses numbers a lot to communicate with us, and 7 has a ton of meaning. A few examples are - He created the world in 7 days, there will be a 7 year tribulation, 7 is used for completion, etc.

) Going back to how this correlates with Jonah & Ninevah's story -at the time of this eclipse, there will be another sign in the sky...it will take place under the constellation, Cetus, which is the whale constellation! And not only will it pass through the 8 cities in North America named Ninevah, it will also pass through Jonah, Texas! Speaking of other towns that it will pass through, these are some of the other city names that it will go right over:

Rapture, Indiana

Williamston, Kentucky - this is where the Ark Encounter is located. The Ark Encounter is a full size replica of Noah's Ark.

Eagle Pass, Texas - where we are having so many border issues.

And the point where it crosses the 2017 eclipse to mark the center of the X is an area in southern Illinois called Little Egypt. What is even more fascinating about this is that Little Egypt is sandwiched in between 2 other cities called Alpha, Kentucky and Omega, Illinois - both having the 2017 eclipse come over their cities. Furthermore, the intersection of the 2017 and 2024 solar eclipses occurs directly over the New Madrid Fault Line, a major seismic zone. An earthquake along this fault line could potentially destroy the U.S., making it one of the most perilous fault lines in the country. I have no idea if this will happen or not, but there are too many things here that are all literally lining up to not share with everyone.

7) One more interesting fact is that there are 2,422 days in between the 2017 eclipse and the 2024 eclipse. If you look up 2422 in Strong's Concordance, an Bible concordance that has every word of the KJV, takes us to Exodus 1:19 which says,

"The midwives answered Pharaoh, "Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive."

Why would this be of any significance? Well, to me, it reminds me of how Jesus said that His return would be like a woman in labor with the signs of His coming growing stronger and closer together. We are at a point in history where we are seeing all of the signs that He gave us happening before our eyes. In fact, we are even seeing things that will happen during the tribulation get setup now. If we are seeing those things being setup now, that must mean that we are super close to it actually happening. Going back to God saying that He uses the sun, moon and stars to show us signs - and then Jesus saying that the signs of His coming will be like a woman in labor, well this information leading us back to Exodus 1:19 explaining that the Hebrew women have labor fast is so interesting to me! Could we be on the brink of the rapture and tribulation!? I don't know exactly when it will happen but Jesus did tell us that we would know the season and I do believe that we have been in that season for the past few years and are pushing closer and closer to it!

It is no secret that this world has gone mad and everyone knows that there is something happening behind the scenes that feels really uncomfortable. If you have that feeling, you are right! There is a major push for things to happen that were predicted to happen over 2,000 years ago. Most people seek their understanding in the wrong place though. They look to the news and the world to guide them; however, these sources will only bring more questions, not answers. It causes people to live in fear, anxiety and depression. However, Jesus didn't want us to live that way. He gave us the information so that we would know what is happening when we see these things. The first piece of living in His knowledge is accepting that God sent His son, Jesus, to die for our sins and on the 3rd day, Jesus rose from the grave and conquered death. The second piece is to repent to God of your sins and turn away from your sins. Most churches only teach how God loves you but don't teach repentance anymore and that is a HUGE part of your faith. Jesus said that there will be many who come to Him and say, "Lord, Lord, I knew you." But because they didn't repent of their sins and seek Jesus' ways instead of their own, He will reply, "Get away from me, I never knew you." We cannot just live however we want without any consequences. Even little children understand this concept, but it has been lost on most adults. This is why Ninevah was going to see destruction - because they were a self- serving, sinful nation - just like America is today. You can't change the heart of this nation, but you can change your heart and lead your homes to do the same. Third, pray for wisdom in these areas.

I know this has been incredibly deep but just like Proverbs 25:2 says, "It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the honor of kings is to search out a matter." This sign in the sky will be right over your head in just a few weeks - will you have the eyes to see what it really means?"

You Decide 🤔

[dearanakin]

"Here's your treat, Sailor" - Steve Harrington x f! Reader

Summary: It's Halloween and you're celebrating your birthday. You throw a small party at your house, but end up locked in your closet with Steve. Give him a treat, he's upset, yeah?

Warnings: A little fluff, a little smut. Oral sex, cursing. 18+ DNI

Word count: 2.6k (just a quick story)

Being born close to Halloween means it was always most likely you would throw a themed birthday party. Two days before the actual date, you were celebrating at a bar with your closest friends, always excited to gather all of them and your other friends. 

Hours before the party, you were getting help from Robin and Eddie with the decoration, while Steve and Dustin - your not-so-baby-brother - were cleaning the house. 

Jonathan and Nancy were in charge of the rest; food, crockery, cups and stuff like that. A faint rock music was playing on a boombox as you were all busy with the arrangement. 

You were pretty excited this year, for the first time after getting into college you invited a few friends you got along. Not that you weren't missing having a boyfriend, but every time you'd go out with someone, it turns out they just want sex, and you didn't like that. 

Pumpkins with wicked grins lined the path to the entrance, their flickering candles casting eerie shadows. A large, ancient oak tree was adorned with fake cobwebs and ghostly apparitions hanging from its branches, swaying gently in the autumn breeze. A fog machine sent wisps of mist rolling across the yard, setting the perfect, eerie mood.

It was 8 pm sharp when the first guests arrived. Mike with El, Lucas with Max and Will, who were not that young anymore either, they were all like 18, 19. You couldn't hold a grin to see them dressed as Ghostbusters, like every year they wear matching costumes.

You and your friends made a deal you'd surprise each other with your costumes, so a while after the kids arrived, Eddie knocked on the door and as you opened it, and it was impossible to miss. He had transformed himself into a member of the legendary rock band, Kiss. 

He was wearing a very made up costume. He even painted in the signature black and white makeup, wearing a black leather vest, displaying his flat abs.

He wore a skin-tight, leather jumpsuit adorned with studs and spikes. Behind him, Robin was wearing a camouflage outfit, along with black boots just like Eddie. 

"Wow, you took the 'dressed to kill' idea very seriously!" She said as she complimented you. As a lesbian, she couldn't stop looking at your cleavage.

You went for an Elvira look with a black, form-fitting, low-cut dress, with a slit on the side. The v-neck showed a little too much of your chest, which would make every guy look at you for more than five minutes. 

"Eddie, come on dork. Stop stripping her with your eyes!" She mocked him, laughing at the way he was just frozen, still looking at you. 

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. Nice choice. Gonna make every dude in this house get a boner" He tried to sound playful, but he only just turned himself in. 

"Thank you so much for the heads-up. I had no idea" Ironically, you weren't really expecting that. Maybe that's why Mike and Lucas got flickered in their foreheads earlier. 

Steve was more obvious and it made you laugh. He just chose to wear his Scoops Ahoy uniform, without the hat. Because that would ruin his perfect hair.

And again, what Eddie said echoed in your head, because the hairy chested guy couldn't stop staring at your breasts until you tried to pinch him. Jonathan and Nancy were wearing something very couple-like, and it was heart melting. 

There were people chatting in the backyard, some were listening to music while talking and drinking, Dusty and the kids were talking about some game. The couple was somewhere, probably exchanging saliva, and you were talking with Robin, listening to her charm about Vickie, while Eddie was smoking a joint. 

"Hey, where the hell is Steve?" She asks after a brief pause, watching as Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't seen him in like, twenty minutes, I think?".

"Probably fixing his hair or managing to get his dick wet" He scoffed. 

Both of you looked at him in disbelief, he was just trying to mock. "Ew, Munson. I know he used to be like that, but he wouldn't do this. Not at my house at least" You respond, but he doesn't agree. 

"Eh, could be. But let's be honest. The guy is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. Any girl would jump on him like that" He snaps his fingers. 

"I'm gonna look for him around here. You can go upstairs" You tell her before leaving him alone, who mumbles something about Steve "needing a babysitter" or something. 

You had no idea where the guy could've gone. He just didn't say anything before ghosting, and it's not like there was a way of communicating to him, unless he had a walkie. But this wasn't one of his gatherings with the kids. 

You looked behind the curtains, because, you never know right? Under the table, behind the couch, in the guest restroom and even behind any door, but still nothing. Robin said she didn't see him upstairs.

She went to the backyard and asked the others about him. Until you realized you didn't look for him in one spot that anyone could fit in: the closet under your stairs. 

He was sitting there with a different look on his face. Maybe tired? You didn't know. He had his back resting against the wall, fidgeting his fingers. A cup with some drink was also resting on the floor. 

"Care to explain why you're hiding at my party without saying anything?" You ask, but he doesn't bother to look at you. 

He shrugs his shoulders, pouting. "I'm sorry it's your birthday party. I just didn't feel like being around". 

You wanted to ask, but you weren't sure he would answer you. Still holding the doorknob, you reach out your hands, so he can lift himself up, but he doesn't. 

"C'mon Steve, let's try and cheer up, yeah? You want me to change the music? Is it boring?" He shakes his head. "You want something else to drink? Food?". Nothing. 

As soon as he gets up, he closes the door behind you, before you protest. What he doesn't know is that If you close the door, it locks from the inside. He just locked you both in there. 

"Steve-" You try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"Can you not tell this to Robin just yet? It's going to sound really stupid" He asks, his tone was low and pretty hurtful. 

"Steve, you can't close this door from the inside. We're locked in here". 

He snaps his eyes and raises both eyebrows. He tries to open the door but nothing happens.

"You're fucking kidding me. I just locked the party host in the closet" He groans, yanking his head against the door. 

"Yeah, thank you. Now Robin is going to think we're either missing or messing around". 

Steve still has his head resting against the door, banging it carefully. 

"Could this night be any shittier?" You don't get why he seems stressed, but you try to ask him anyway. 

"What happened, sailor?" He chuckles lightly, almost like in a bittersweet way. 

"If you make fun of me I'll get your gift back" He threatens. "Just this girl I was talking to earlier in the backyard.. I asked her for her number and she said I was a 'stupid momma's boy and that my reputation is wrecked'" He mourns.

"You know you're not like that anymore, right?" You try to ease him and reassure you don't think of him that way. 

He still laughs sarcastically. "Seems like I still am". He sighs. "That's the problem. People still see me like that, and I hate it". 

"Just because some random girl said that to you, it doesn't mean it's true". 

Steve tries to take in your words as he crosses his arms on his chest and ponders. He hasn't been like that in ages, why would he still make it a big deal anyway? Seems like he needed to work out his self-esteem. 

"Maybe you're right. How's the party?" He still sounds like he's offended, maybe he just needs a hug.

"Well, it's been pretty good until you locked us in" You joke, watching him slightly chuckle.

"You look really good as Elvira" Steve gives you a gentle side smile and you grab his hand. 

"You look the same as always, sailor" Snorting, he gives you a death glance. Like, it's not the first time you see in that outfit. 

"Just think you missed the boobs". Oh, that was a burn. 

Walking towards him, you make sure you're pressing your sides to show a little more cleavage, and he gulps. "What, you don't think this cleavage isn't enough?" Your voice was smooth and low. 

As you reach to both his arms, he tries to not stare at you for too long or he breaks. Your pleading eyes actually hold something different and it makes his boxer feel uncomfortable already. You've always thought he was good looking, even with the stupid outfit.

"I.. uh- No, it's great" He nervously laughs, his hands never meet your body out of respect for you. 

You tease him as you lean against his body, and Steve is looking confused at you. "Eddie was right when he said every guy would get a boner with my costume".

He tries to hold a nervous chuckle and fails. "I don't have a boner, what do you mean?"

"Then what are you hiding in there, an ice cream scoop?" The taunting was terrible, but it makes him laugh as his cheeks flush. 

"You're a terrible person" This time he holds his gaze directly at your eyes and leans closer until your noses bump. "You're incredibly sexy and terrible".

"And yet you're the one dressed as a sailor with your uniform" You retort, wrapping your hands around his neck. He feels your chest pressed against his, as well as his growing crotch. 

He doesn't give you an answer, but instead he just crashes his lips against yours, holding your chin in a light grip. He tastes like beer, he smells like Calvin Klein and you don't regret this little show you're having. 

It doesn't have to be something serious right now, so you just enjoy it when he slides his tongue against yours, letting out a groan to your surprise. One of his hands slides down your body, holding your waist as he tries to bring you closer to him.

You feel his hard cock rub against your cunt under the dress and it burns your skin. Grasping his lower lip against your teeth, you let out a teasing gasp, learning Steve is just about to throw you against the wall and fuck you there. 

But before he even tries anything, you start kissing him again, feeling his hot tongue swirling around yours in a battle for dominance. It makes your brain twist and your stomach sink. It makes your entire body shiver. 

He pulls back only to breathe, his haired chest is heavily panting and his lips are swollen. "This is what they're missing. So, fuck them" You praise. 

His big squared hand grabs your cheek carefully as he uses his thumb to rub his digit against your skin. "Thank you" That's all he says. 

Watching him from that position, it makes you realize he's everything Eddie said before. He is charming, pretty, and has a good talk. He's also caring, smart and gentle. If you could, you would put him in a bubble and take care of him. 

You pull him by the collar only to give him a peck before sliding both hands down his stomach until your hands reach the elastic of his shorts.

He looks at you, confused and sort of lost with the action. "Here's a Halloween treat, sailor". You kneel in front of him.

The tone of your voice is barely above a whisper and it carries luxury, filling the air of the small closet. His throat is now dry as he gulps harshly. You pull down his piece of clothing before glancing carefully at his hardened cunt under the fabric.

It pulses when you softly touch his base and Steve almost collapses under your hands. He helps you get rid of his boxer, muffling his grunt when you hold it in your right hand. Your best hand, the one you know you can give a nice handjob. 

But this time you catch him off guard when your mouth gives him a soft open mouthed kiss on the glistening tip of his cock. He's kinda big, and thick, and it makes your mouth water with desperation. You glide your tongue until it reaches his balls and he flinches, hissing. 

"Jesus fuck" He cries. It makes you grin through his cock. 

Slowly, you swallow him until it reaches the back of your throat and you try not to gag. His reflection is to pull a handful of your hair and he slowly loses it.

Working along with your tongue, you start bobbing your head up and down, careful to not choke on his cunt. You cup his balls with your free hand and softly rub them against your soft fingers. 

Steve almost starts sliding down the wall, trying to hold himself up. He feels himself completely at your mercy, not knowing why it feels so good, considering you were good friends.

You hum while tasting every inch of him, feeling his dick twitch inside your mouth, dripping with precum.

He uses one hand to hold himself while the other one still pulls your hair. The sound of your throat against his dick is echoing inside the closet, while his breathing makes the air become stuffy. Your mouth sucks him so perfectly, your throat tightens around him.

"I'm not gonna las- Fuck-" He sttuters when you hollow your cheeks and suck him hard, the loud gasp coming off his mouth makes you feel so horny you almost give up on this. 

The way you concentrate on your movements, always switching so it doesn't give you cheek cramps, makes him want to thrust against your mouth. But he knows his limits and he doesn't want you to choke on him either.

He watches with bliss on his eyes the way your head bobs towards him and it makes him dizzy at your sight. You look at him with lust and awe, savoring his salty liquid, feeling how his fat cock stretches your mouth so it can fit in.

Your hand falls from his balls to his hairy and thick thighs, digging your nails into his skin, listening to every moan he spills against the thin air. 

"I'mgonnacum" He slurs and you feel his hips shuddering as he finally reaches his peak, washing over your throat. You swallow him entirely, his warm cum suddenly makes you feel too blissed from the moment. 

Steve can barely breathe, you watch him almost gasp for air. His chest is heavily panting and sweating, just like his flushed face.

You noticed how messy his hair is. After swallowing it all, you give him a quick peck on his sensitive tip and he pulls back from the sensation. 

He helps you get up from your knees, still staring at you amused. You quickly clean the corner of your mouth, licking the same spot. "God, you are fascinating". 

When he leans forward to give you another kiss, not giving a shit you taste like him, the door finally opens and Robin stares at both of you in shock. 

"What the fuck happened here?".

[lotties-ashwagandha]

GETAWAY

shauna sadecki x reader, word count 1.2k

you enjoy a quiet day off work with shauna in the tranquility of your life together. garden obsessed shauna’s rabbit hatred is back. dedicated to my fav ever @webism

– 8:00 AM – 

The morning is warm as you embrace it. The sun is gentle as it glows in through the windows, it searches to greet you in its light. It envelops the kitchen, wrapping you in its comfort, a distraction from the cold tile floors under your bare feet. 

You lean against the kitchen counter, looking out the window above the sink into the garden. Summer has brought you abundance, the earth sings with it. Shauna stands looking over your plants, a cup of coffee in her hands as she examines them. 

Deeply, you inhale. The house is filled with the mixed scents of lavender and mint, from a floral candle you’ve burnt almost down to the wick and from the tea you hold. You take a sip of it, and your eyes fall closed for a moment in the gentle pull of the breeze coming in through the open window. The morning is timeless as you take it in. 

You set your tea down, and still barefoot you slip outside. You follow the path into the garden, joining Shauna. 

She looks back as you approach and smiles softly. You extend a hand to her and she takes it – as you walk through the garden together, you are able to breathe peacefully in the quiet space shared between the two of you. There is only room for serenity here, and it shows in the calm of Shauna’s expression – once haunted and usually so, but as she walks with you she is content.

Shauna stops in front of the tomato plant. She furrows her eyebrows, looking down at it curiously before turning to you. Her expression is serious as says, “The neighbors have been stealing our tomatoes.” 

You pause. You’re alarmed as you picture one of your neighbors crawling over your fence like a bandit in the night and stuffing a bag full of tomatoes – you mentally sort through everyone in your neighborhood, calculating the likeliness of who would be so jealous of your garden that they would steal from you. It’s the last problem you ever envisioned having with a small garden in the suburbs. 

“The neighbors?” you ask after a moment. You shake your head. “Which ones?” 

She sighs and points to a rabbit sitting at the edge of your yard. The creature stares back at her, and you half expect Shauna to claim it’s trying to size her up. You suppress a smile – you’re relieved you won’t be staying up tonight trying to fight any human neighbors out of your garden, that Shauna’s concern lies with the rabbits. 

You watch as she surveys the rest of the garden. Shauna is methodical in her observations, you do not understand the hidden details she sees in the plants and soil, but you appreciate what has come from the work as you gather a handful of what’s ready for harvest. You look down at a generous mix of vegetables and berries in your arms, small treasures that remind you of the love that bore them.��

– 12:00 PM – 

A day of comfort, though a day of work, and a day of caution – through almost burning the kitchen down trying to cook with Shauna, you have found a flow between you while cooking together, and attempt to maintain it. 

You have time today. For once you and Shauna are able to cook lunch together, and to do so without the stress of work or outside obligation weighing down on you. It’s peaceful – Shauna has banished you to the cutting board in her pursuit to conquer the kitchen, and you stand in complacency as you chop a series of fresh vegetables the two of you harvested from the garden this morning. 

Your movements are careful as you complete your task. It dawns on you again and again, that you are in no rush, you have everything you could ever need around you and nothing can reach you here. You are at home in a tranquil rhythm. 

Shauna comes to look over your shoulder at your work. She hums in what you take as approval, placing her hands on your waist and watching your movements. 

You place the knife down and turn to face her. A soft smile captures her lips as she studies you, and you feel the pressure of her gaze pleasantly. There is love in her eyes, it swallows you whole. 

“You’re good at this,” she says, and you look at her skeptically. 

“At chopping vegetables?” 

Shauna rolls her eyes. “I mean at this,” she says, gesturing to the rest of the kitchen – something neither of you are able to touch, though something both of you are able to feel. “What we have here feels like home.”

You nod – always would you agree with her when it came to this, that you were lucky together in every regard in the solitude you shared together, how you were cut off from the rest of the world by choice and intention. 

Shauna leans closer to you, taking a step forward that presses you gently against the counter. You feel your breath hitch at the sudden closeness, and you’re certain she means to kiss you when she pulls away — cutting board from behind you now in hand. 

You stand still for a moment, feeling a bit dejected as you watch her slide the contents of the cutting board into a pan on the stove. 

When Shauna turns her gaze to you, there’s something teasing in it. She moves back to you, and as if reading your mind she closes the gap between you and pulls you into a kiss. In her arms you feel at home, you feel at peace. 

– 9:00 PM – 

Soft moonlight rests over the garden. It pours over every plant, blessing your labor in a silver glow – you feel the peace of it as you watch from the kitchen window, two newly poured glasses of wine in hand. You are filled with pride, all you have is as it should be, it is beautiful. 

Taking the glasses of wine with you, you leave the kitchen for the living room. Shauna rests on the sofa, reading something – a book about a cult if you recall, something far more brutal than you would suspect from the way she sits so pleasantly immersed. 

She looks up from it for a moment as you sit down and hand her one of the wine glasses, murmuring a quiet thank you, placing her book on the coffee table and shifting to wrap an arm around your shoulders. Warmth is radiated from her – it wraps around you with the same serenity of the night. 

The wine is sweet on your tongue, though bitter enough to keep you present as you are come over with the day’s exhaustion. It’s a pleasant sensation, the aching of your muscles brought about by the work you did in the garden with Shauna after lunch again and the knowledge that your work lives in the earth, and it will come back as a reward to you – a labor of love, it will help nourish you through the coming winter. 

You lean into Shauna. It is endlessly calming to have her beside you – your love growing under the same moonlight as the garden you have cherished, and it will nourish you through the coming winter. 

[cuddleyhoney]

¡Hello sweet!, I wanted to ask you if you could do John wick x fem that she and John had a fight over something stupid, but they still have to go to a place that John and her were invited to, a man approaches her and starts flirting with her, she plays along to make John jealous, john knows her so well that he knows what he's doing, and in the end they have a hot night.

siIf you don't mind, kisses:)

Omg, I am just now seeing this hi!! this is such a good idea hehe

business situations - john wick x reader angst + smut kind of

Since you and John had a small argument about how much he's been working and not focusing on the romantic aspects of your relationship, it has taken a toll on both of you. This lead you to try and give him some personal time to rebuild himself for a couple days and hoping he'd make some effort in the relationship...

It was 6pm you were lying on your soft plush white sofa in the living room and your phone gave you a notification that tomorrow was a special event your law firm was holding in honor of the CEO's birthday. You were one of the most respected people at work so it would be silly not to attend...

Later that night, you drew yourself a warm, fragrant bath and began undressing. Just as you were about to step in, you wrapped yourself in a plush towel and hurried out of the bathroom, hoping to catch John before he wandered off in the spacious mansion you shared. Finding him in the dimly lit hallway, you approached him with a shy smile. "John," you said softly, your voice tinged with hope, "there's an event at work tomorrow. Would you like to accompany me?"

He looked at you in astonishment. Despite being on a four-week-long work trip, seeing a beautiful girl like you still caught him by surprise sometimes, especially when you were practically nude. John then said, "Of course honey, what time?"

You quickly told him, "At 7 PM," before pitter-pattering back to your lovely modern bathroom, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

----

The next day, the sun was blissfully shining through your floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow upon your soft skin. Moments like these made John feel safe and warm, reminding him of the comfort you brought into his life.

As the day went on, you found yourself stressing over which dress to wear to the evening event. John, ever so effortlessly, stepped into his spacious closet and picked out a classic suit. Meanwhile, you stood before your wardrobe, pondering the perfect color palette and length that would make the night special. You wanted everything to be perfect, hoping to dazzle John just as much as he always dazzled you.

Eventually, you both arrived at the sky-rise building where you worked. While you were accustomed to its imposing presence, to John it was a new and somewhat mysterious environment, one he rarely glimpsed in person unless he arrived unexpectedly with a bouquet of flowers.

---

You mingled with your co-workers and gossiped about the latest work romance that's going on and introduced them to your partner. It were as if you had an actual prince charming roaming with you the two of you were an obvious power couple.

That was until John had some social anxiety and ran off the the bathroom.

Confidently roaming alone, you navigated through the crowd, surprised to encounter unfamiliar faces who worked in the same building as you. A man, a few years older than you, approached with an unsettling gaze that hinted at more than casual interest.

In perfect timing, John returned with a drink in hand, unaware of the man flirting with you. His eyes narrowed with envy, hoping you weren't swayed by the stranger.

Without missing a beat, John barged into the conversation as if meeting you for the first time, firing off questions. "Where are you from?" "Do you work here?" He aimed to annoy the man in any way he could.

In seconds the man grew jealousy and walked away, of course, you were a little annoyed too.

A couple of hours passed with the entire firm drinking, gossiping, and cheering. Eventually, the two of you headed home. Your feet were blistering from the tight designer heels you had stumbled out in. Being a little intoxicated didn't help either.

--

Finally, with John's gentle hands guiding you, you stepped out of the luxurious car. As you entered your living room, you swiftly kicked off your shoes and hurried to take a shower. John looked at you with a sheepish smile and softly asked if he could join you. Without hesitation, y/n smiled back, your heart skipping a beat, and whispered a loving "Yes."

Undressing slowly you noticed a quite excited little guy across the bathroom already completely nude ready for whatever adventures he may take that are in the showers *wink*

Before the two of you even made it to the glass door of the shower John began nipping at your neck with his hands roaming your chest and shoulders. The already hot and steamy room helped with the dreamy aura, you paused for a second and quickly hopped into the shower dragging John with you.

Y/n grabbed a bottle of eucalyptus-scented liquid soap and rubbed it into his skin whilst looking up at him into his eyes. It was like a dream, John stared with lust watching your hands roam his body.

"John pressed you against the wall, his hands venturing between your legs, teasing with a desire mirrored in his deep brown eyes. Moments like these made him grateful you weren't indulging in your late-night rendezvous at the Continental Hotel; your shared passion could easily echo through its halls."

His envy wore down but his stamina didn't...

this is lowkey ass and inspired by suits ok bye I hope you enjoy

[woncon]

[08:08 pm] ♡ yeonjun

gn!reader | crack and suggestive | mentions of sex | the future makes the reader scared | made with @wonsheep's help <3

‣ txt masterlist :: ✉️₍₁₎

in the dim hotel room, with only silhouettes visible, orange rectangles melt on the walls as the weary sun descends lower and lower on its celestial path and the sky turns a gloomy grey.

you slip out from under the blanket, which squeaks softly. this sound is part of the idyll of the hotel. it is as firm and unchanging a part of it as your heart is a part of yeonjun.

"where are you going?" asks the guy you just made love with, leaning towards you with languid honesty.

"i'm running away."

"from me?"

"no. from tomorrow."

unnoticed, yeonjun flashes a relieved smile as he grabs his lover's waist, pulling you back to where you belong.

"you know, in my opinion, tomorrow is nothing more than a scare for small children. like a bogeyman in the closet." you sit back, and the boy hugs your shoulder, his arm is pleasantly warm, his heartbeat still andalating.

"but there is a bogeyman in the closet. tomorrow itself."

"there is no bogeyman, no tomorrow, just you and me. two naked young people who have just banged."

"you're very poetic, junie," you murmur, smiling. 

"oh, sorry, we've just created the endless waterfall of our love."

"and that’s too wet."

"i'm good at making things wet." this time a wicked grin creeps across his face, the outline of which you can sense. 

"you almost knocked the lamp over, and that was almost sexy. but this is just embarrassing," you grimace.

"i adore you."

"doesn’t help."

"it always helps." he strokes your cheek sensually, mesmerized, lingering on the soft skin long enough for you to share your question full of doubts.

"junie... will you still love me when i'm old? when tomorrow comes?"

"i'll kiss every wrinkle with love. i'm not afraid of the non-existed tomorrow. i'm only afraid that you'll slap me on the arm, as usual, if i ask you if there can be a third round."

"beat it."

"i don't think it's gonna help when you're this close..."

"no, you idiot! beat tomorrow out of my head." you press a confused kiss on the boy's lips, then bury your head in his neck. "i adore you too. and if you promise not to let tomorrow strike us on this bed, you can keep me here forever."

yeonjun hugs you back, and in that moment there really is nothing but you, the room, the orange rectangle in the dim light. tomorrow doesn't exist in this moment.

[cricketnationrise]

500 Followers! Congratulations!!!

Oooh .. for a ficlet . .

a time stamp - 1:30 pm

location - a panaderia somewhere in NYC (maybe https://donpacolopez.com/pages/press-don-paco-lopez-bakery - since its in Brooklyn?)

character - Alex Claremont-Diaz

a song title/lyric for vibes - Many the Miles ( Sarah Bareilles) https://youtu.be/L-0uUSHa8wY?si=oHzEPF8AprRM4fcB

Rating - leaving it up to your discretion

Hi hello first of all I fucking love Sara Bareilles and this song in particular is one of my favorites :D second of all writing this made me want conchas really badly. that being said - all Spanish mistakes are my own, so if anyone notices any, please let me know and I'll correct them 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

1:30pm, nyc panadería

Don Paco Lopez, Panadería, established 1991, in the heart of Brooklyn, New York, smells absolutely fucking amazing.

The air is thick with the smell of dough and cinnamon and chocolate and something about the mix of aromas has Alex’s choking up a little – caught in the memories of his abuelas kitchen. The place reminds him so much of summers and Christmases in Mexico that he has half a mind to book a ticket down there right now, the nostalgia is so powerful.

Through the window, Alex can see illuminated baking cases — almost empty at this hour — and a man and woman dancing and laughing behind the counter, each covered in both wrinkles and flour. He can just make out the sound of Selena through the glass door.

Without a second thought, without any regard for his carefully structured schedule, Alex steps inside, the bell over the door jingling merrily. 

The dancing couple breaks apart at the noise, smiles still firmly in place, and moves to their stations before freezing in place, mid-greeting, as she recognizes him as the son of the President.

“¡Hola! Bienvenido a— ¡Dios mío, eres tú!”

Alex slips into Spanish as easily as breathing. “Culpable de los cargos,” he says, a sheepish grin on his face. “Huele increíble aquí. Al igual que recuerdo la cocina de mi abuela.”

“Muchas gracias.” They both still look stunned he’s in their shop. “Estamos horneando para la próxima orden de catering.”

The knowledge that this panadería does catering has Alex’s brain going a mile a minute. He scans the cases, searching for his favorites. Pan de muerto chico, tamales dulces, rosca de reyes, churros, cuernito, niditos—and there, in the far corner, Alex’s favorite: conchas.

“Bueno, quiero esa última concha de chocolate, pero también voy a hacer algunos pedidos de catering.”

“¿Algunos? ¿Cómo en múltiples?”

“Sí,” Alex says, letting his grin go a little wicked. “No puedo dejar que los niños del Refugio Okonjo tengan todas las golosinas, ¿verdad?”

The Lopezes laugh, albeit a little hysterically, as a timer goes off in the back. Paco excuses himself to the ovens with a gesture to his wife. “Mi esposa puede ayudarle con su pedido, Sr. Claremont-Díaz.”

“¡Llámame Alex!” he calls after Mr. Lopez. He lowers his voice back to normal volume as he turns to Mrs. Lopez. “Por favor, insisto.”

“Bueno… Alejandro. ¿Qué podemos hacer por ti?”

He chuckles, visions of piles of pastries dancing in his head. “¿Tienes un bolígrafo y papel a mano?”

Mrs. Lopez’s eyes crinkle with amusement as she clicks her pen and hovers over an order pad. “Estoy lista.”

Alex lets the words fly, making up the order for the shelter on the spot. Día de los Muertos is coming up, and there’s enough kids at the shelter who haven’t gotten a proper celebration of the holiday in a while that will practically die with happiness when he drops the baked goods off.

For his own order, he’s been homesick for Mexican baking for a while. He can make a mean mole, throw kick-ass enchiladas in the oven, even put together a salsa that June said was on par with their abuelo. But Alex doesn’t have as much time, or frankly the patience, to turn out conchas and other sweet breads that his abuela still makes once a week. He orders way more than he’ll ever be able to eat before it goes stale, but he doesn’t care. Henry will at least try each variety, and Alex can always bring any extras to class or his review session. 

Mrs. Lopez won’t hear of him paying full price, and Alex can’t fathom paying anything less. Mr. Lopez finally interrupts their standoff with a suggestion of thirty percent off for the shelter. That, Alex will accept—he’ll do anything for Henry and Pez’s dollars to stretch further to help queer kids. Mrs. Lopez still looks grumpy, but she concedes to Alex paying full price for his own order as well. (Alex will leave a big tip when he picks up both orders, whether she likes it or not.)

He thanks them again, setting a pick up time for both orders and leaves with his chocolate concha and a wide smile on his face. Henry and the rest of his family are going to make so much fun of him for the sheer volume he ordered, but in Alex’s defense, he was left unsupervised.

Translations: Hello! Welcome to— Oh my God, it’s you! Guilty as charged. It smells amazing in here. Just like I remember my grandma’s kitchen. Thank you so much. Well, I want that last chocolate concha, but I'm also gonna place some catering orders. Some? As in multiple? Can’t let the kids at the Okonjo Shelter have all the goodies, now can I?  My wife can help you with your order, Mr. Claremont-Díaz. Call me Alex! Please, I insist. Okay, Alex. What can we do for you? Got a pen and paper handy? I’m ready.

[chu-diaries]

140 days of productivity: day 45/140

📸: so my cat kinda thinks she can sleep on her scratching post lately + bingo game

Totally unproductive day. I dreamed I was at Baekhyun's concert and ended up sleeping in, then I woke up to a message from a customer at the candle store and discovered that my products were not visible in the catalog. I rushed to fix the problem while I made breakfast and did laundry. Of course, my ADHD was at its peak and I couldn't do anything properly. When I realized it was already past 1 pm and I still hadn't had lunch.

I went to a charity event in the afternoon where I played bingo (but didn't win anything) and in the evening I ordered japchae for delivery. I’m thinking about doing a phone detox next week because my ADHD levels are sooo high lately. I can’t focus on anything and I’m so tired.

💥: day 12/27

💧: 🚫

🏋🏻‍♀️: 🚫

🏃🏻‍♀️: 🚫

🕯️: wick tests + customer service (4 h)

🪘: 🚫

🇰🇷: I ate japchae… does it count? 🫥

🎧: good morning - baekhyun

📺: one piece

📚: 🚫

🛑: 5 days pick free

💊: 🚫

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

New post: Broadway Barks! 🐕🐶

Over 30 Celebrity Presenters Will Join Bernadette Peters and Sutton Foster for Broadway Barks

The annual pet adoption event will be held later this summer in Shubert Alley.

Celebrity participants have been announced for the annual pet adoption event in Shubert Alley, Broadway Barks, which will once again be hosted by Tony winners Bernadette Peters and Sutton Foster.

As previously reported, the 26th annual dog and cat adoption celebration—founded by Peters and the late Mary Tyler Moore—will be held August 3. The day kicks off at 3 PM, and celebrity presentations of the adoptable pets from 25 participating rescue groups and shelters will begin at 5 PM and continue to 6:30 PM.

Newly announced for the event are celebrity presenters Eric Anderson (The Great Gatsby), Philippe Arroyo (& Juliet), Jeannette Bayardelle (& Juliet), Shoshana Bean (Hell’s Kitchen), Dan Berry (The Outsiders), Maya Boyd (& Juliet), Stan Brown (Water for Elephants), Andréa Burns (The Notebook The Musical), Andrew R. Butler (Stereophonic), John Cardoza (The Notebook The Musical), Gabriela Carrillo (Six), Victoria Clark (Kimberly Akimbo), Jenn Colella (Suffs), Joe De Paul (Water for Elephants), Olivia Donalson (Six), Gregg Edelman (Water for Elephants), Jordan Fisher  (Hadestown),  Jasmine Forsberg (Six), Sara Gettelfinger  (Water for Elephants), Dorian Harewood (The Notebook The Musical), Nikki M. James (Suffs), Jeremy Jordan (The Great Gatsby), Sky Lakota-Lynch (The Outsiders), Storm Lever (Six), Isabelle McCalla (Water for Elephants), Wade McCollum (Water for Elephants), Paul Alexander Nolan (Water for Elephants), Brad Oscar (Wicked), Emma Pittman (The Outsiders), Maryann Plunkett (The Notebook The Musical), Eddie Redmayne (Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club), Jelani Remy (Back to the Future), Didi Romero (Six), Adi Roy (Aladdin), Austin Scott (& Juliet), Christopher Sieber (Death Becomes Her), Jennifer Simard (Death Becomes Her), Emily Skinner (Suffs), Steven Skybell (Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club), Alexandra Socha (Wicked), Dennis Stowe (Aladdin), Justin David Sullivan (& Juliet), Paulo Szot (& Juliet), Jordan Tyson (The Notebook The Musical), Michael Urie (Once Upon a Mattress), Ben Jackson Walker (& Juliet), Khaila Wilcoxon (Six), Betsy Wolfe (& Juliet), and Joy Woods (The Notebook The Musical).

Proceeds from the event benefit the participating shelters and rescue groups: 1 Love 4 Animals, Abandoned Angels Cocker Spaniels Rescue, Adopt A Boxer Rescue, Animal Care Centers of NYC, Anjellicle Cats Rescue, Best Friends Animal Society, Bideawee, Bobbi and the Strays, City Critters, Francis’s Friends, Hearts & Bones Rescue, Husky House, Linda’s Cat Assistance, Little Shelter, Long Island Bulldog Rescue, Mid-Atlantic Great Dane Rescue League, Muddy Paws Rescue, North Shore Animal League, Pet ResQ Inc., Save Kitty Foundation, Second Chance Rescue, SPCA of Westchester, Urban Cat League, and Yankee Golden Retriever Rescue.

Foster first co-hosted with Peters in 2022. Both are returning to Broadway later this season: Foster in the revival of Once Upon a Mattress and Peters in Stephen Sondheim's Old Friends.

Since its inception in 1998, approximately 85% of the more than 2,000 cats and dogs showcased in Broadway Barks have found forever homes. Visit BroadwayBarks.org.

Broadway Cares is one of the nation’s leading industry-based, nonprofit AIDS fundraising and grant-making organizations. By drawing upon the talents, resources, and generosity of the American theatre community, since 1988 Broadway Cares has raised more than $300 million for essential services for people affected by HIV/AIDS, COVID-19 and other critical illnesses across the United States. Visit BroadwayCares.org.

[bearbluebooks]

Christmas in Velaris - Chapter Three

Read on AO3 or under the image :)

Chapter 3

December 5th, 17:55

Evening announced its resting call half an hour ago, when the darkness of night replaced the bright sky. Normally, Gwyn would be sitting on her sofa with her feet resting gently on the coffee table. A cup of piping hot sleepy time tea in one hand, and her latest smutty book in the other.

Not today.

With an increased heart rate and hurried steps, she made her way down to her neighbor. Why was she nervous? She just needed to be herself. And bring muffins.

Last night, she promised herself to go as soon as everything opened, but when she left the bookshop at nine a.m. the maintenance guy showed up.

It would be fine. She could still meet them today. Most people worked until 6 pm, didn’t they? Either way, she couldn’t remove herself from the chores any earlier than that.

Every finished task brought two new ones with them- when she cleared the piles and piles of old books in front of an old chair, rotting wood hid underneath. When she fixed the door that didn’t close properly, a part of the roof fell down. “That’s not my area of expertise,” the elderly man responded with his hands in the air when he looked at the thousands of white pieces fall down.

All it did was add urgency to the Christmas competition.

The Christmas Competition, she suddenly remembered with a jolt. 

She reached the door in seconds. When she flung it open, the steep rackety stairs that led to her apartment were revealed. With two steps at a time, she reached her goal faster: the chocolate muffins that she baked last night. At least she would have, if she had not mis stepped and landed flat on her face with a loud shriek.

Mouse, who appeared out of thin air, seemed to be awakened by the sudden noise as her tired brown head peered through the small crack in the door. “I know, I know,” Gwyn said to the animal who always appeared without making any noise.

No time to lose, she thought as she pushed herself up and made her way to the kitchen. Even though her chin ached, and her knee throbbed, she had to meet her neighbor. One look down revealed her dirty overalls, her knitted red turtleneck, and her beaten-down all-stars.

First impressions mattered but she was all out of time, the chocolate muffins would have to do. She gave one final goodbye to Mouse, who resumed her nap on the couch, as she grabbed her coat and her keys, “Wish me luck!”

With more considerate steps, she finally made it to her neighbor. One hand ran down her overalls, whilst the other held the muffins tight to her chest.

One breath in and a long one out eased her nerves enough to observe the building.

That’s strange, she thought. The building was black and made entirely of marble. No sign to be seen. Two humungous glass doors offered the only clue as to what lay inside. 

With two gloved hands and her nose on the glass, she peered inside. 

Small spots of condensation formed on the place where her breath met the coldness of the glass. 

What sort of shady business was this?

The last time she was here, the whole street was filled with cozy little shops- flower stores, bakeries, and bookshops. 

This looked like a villain’s liar.

She almost turned back when the doors opened and a deep voice said “Are you stalking me?”

Was she living in some kind of Groundhog Day? 

With raised eyebrows and wide eyes, she perceived the large frame in the expensive suit. Without looking away from those scrutinizing hazel eyes, she said in her most confident tone, “Azriel.”

Of course, he was her neighbor. 

The gods had a wicked sense of humor. Only she wasn’t the one laughing, and neither was Azriel. With a shake of his head and narrow eyes, he looked her up and down. Even though she was wearing her warmest winter clothes, she felt utterly exposed under his watchful gaze. 

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked.

With two outstretched hands, she said “I made you these muffins.” 

She could swear that was an eye roll as he said, “I hate muffins.”

“You still hate muffins?” She said in pure shock. In all her years she still hadn’t met anybody who hated muffins with as much passion as Azriel.

“Maybe you can give them to your secretary. Or your colleagues?” She said as she attempted to look over his shoulder.

Without thinking she blurted out “Or do you plan the destruction of Velaris all by yourself?”

Internally she slapped herself. She needed to make friends, not enemies. She was still here with one goal. “I mean-“

Was that… laughter?

“It does look like that doesn’t it.” He said with a genuine smile that even reached his eyes. 

“I will give them to Mor, she will bother you to bake more as soon as I give these, you know that, right? 

She tried not to let jealousy run through her body at the mention of the beautiful blonde's name. Just as she pushed away the speculatory thoughts that entered her brain. It was none of her business what -or who- he did.

So, instead, she asked, “How is Mor?”

“She’s good. As long as Emerie is not in the vicinity.” 

Emerie. One of her best friends when she still lived in Velaris. A mixture of sadness and nostalgia quickly made its way into her chest. Memories of late-night readathons and Saturday hangouts ran through her brain. Something inside her kept her from reaching out earlier. Maybe it was fear of rejection, or the guilt of leaving them. Either way, she needed to see them.

This was also a chance for new beginnings. With a smile, she made a mental note to hunt both of them down tomorrow.

Suddenly, Azriel's hand moved to her face and her treacherous body became paralyzed in anticipation until he spoke the words, “You have something on your face,” and all tension slithered away.

“Here,” he said as took a handkerchief out of his pocket. When he removed whatever was on her face, brown stained the previously pristine white cloth.

“Gross!” she exclaimed. 

“You can say that. What is that?” He asked as he leaned nonchalantly against the black marble wall.

“Azriel,” she said as she slapped him against his chest. “You let me walk around with that on my face?” With her entire being she wished for the ground to swallow her up.

“Is it gone?” she asked feeling incredibly vulnerable. Two strong hands moved to grab her shoulders to guide her to the glass doors. When she stood in front of the giant reflecting surface, she saw his body towering over her smaller frame. And she saw hazel eyes that bore into her with such intensity that her breath caught in her throat.

“See you look fine,” he said as he resumed his earlier position, seemingly unaffected by whatever she thought she saw.

“Why are you really here?” he asked with his arms crossed.

Time to spill the beans.

Although she could already guess his answer, she still had to try. “The Christmas competition it’s-“

“Absolutely not,” he said before she could even finish her sentence.

“Absolutely not? That’s interesting” a deep voice said from around the corner. “Do tell me more.” The stranger urged. 

When she saw the black hair and unique eyes that she could swear were purple some days, she finally recognized the male.

“Brother,” Azriel replied in a slightly annoyed voice. 

“Uncle Az,” the beautiful child with the same black hair and unique eyes practically screamed from behind Rhysand.

In one easy swoop, Azriel picked the child up as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

 “Who is that?” the child said from his uncle’s arms.

“Nyx, meet Gwyn, Gwyn meet Nyx,” Rhysand said smoothly.

The little boy stretched his hand out, one she gratefully accepted as she said “Hello Nyx, nice to meet you. I love your hat.”

“Thank you, my mommy made it for me,” Nyx said.

“She is beautiful, Uncle Az,” he whispered loudly into Azriel’s ear.

Gwyn could swear she saw Azriel’s eyebrows slightly elevate and his eyes widen before it returned to its stoic position.

When Azriel remained silent, Rhysand filled the empty space when he said “Welcome back Gwyn, how have you been?”

He was still as kind and charismatic as he was in high school. With a smile she answered, “I’ve been good. Thank you. How have you been?”

“Busy,” he said as he playfully ran a hand over Nyx’s head.

“So brother. What were you talking about that warranted such heavy exclamations?”

With a sigh, he answered “The Christmas competition.”

“CHRISTMAS,” Little Nyx answered with his legs shaking so hard she was impressed with Azriel’s strong hold.

“Uncle Az, Uncle Az, Uncle Az, do it, do it, do it.”

With a smile she raised her hands in the air, to tell him ‘not my fault’.

His threatening eyes told her ‘very much your fault’.

“I will come by tomorrow and I’ll discuss it, but I’m not promising anything, little man,” Azriel said with an honesty she admired. Most people would sugarcoat it only to never come back to it later.

“Okay, okay,” Nyx said surprisingly understanding.

With a pang of sadness, she admired the sight in front of her.

She missed the easiness of family. The brutal honesty and the total acceptance.

Sudenly, it felt less like a reunion and more like an intrusion. With a soft cough she anounced "It was so nice to meet you Nyx. And really nice to see you again Rhysand.”

With determinate eyes she looked straight into his as she said “I’ll see you tomorrow, Azriel. And remember CHRISTMAS." Was it evil? Maybe. But was it worth it? Definitely.

"CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS." Little Nyx exclaimed. And Gwyn couldn't help her smile.

[lebaronlordking]

Saturday Afternoon Reggae Show DJ LeBaron Lord King September 28, 2024 lebaron@kpoo.com

SaturdayAfternoonReggaeShow

4:00 PM The Wailers - Time Will Tell 4:03 PM Jimmy Cliff - Many Rivers to Cross 4:06 PM Desmond Dekker - Israelites 4:09 PM Maytals - Pressure Drop 4:11 PM Upper Cut Band - Bear Jah Fruit 4:16 PM Calligraphy - Culture Is Not Your Friend 4:21 PM Capleton - Gone Up 4:25 PM Alborosie - Natural Mystic 4:29 PM Musical Youth - Pass the Dutchie 4:32 PM Burning Spear - Hail H.I.M 4:36 PM Peter Tosh - Get Up, Stand Up 4:39 PM Sistah Jahia - Empress on the Rise 4:44 PM Beenie Man - Girls Dem Sugar 4:48 PM Eek-A-Mouse - Police in Helicopter 4:51 PM Sampa the Great - Energy 4:56 PM Gyptian - Hold You [Hold Yuh] 4:59 PM Samory I - Rasta Nuh Gangsta 5:03 PM Damian Marley - Welcome to Jamrock 5:08 PM Leroy Sibles - Jah Far I 5:14 PM Capleton - These Streets Know My Name 5:23 PM Nas & Damian Marley - As We Enter 5:25 PM The Wailers - I Shot The Sheriff 5:30 PM Inna de Yard - Baltimore 5:35 PM Lila Iké - Dinero 5:38 PM Protoje - Late at Night 5:42 PM YG Marley - Survival 5:46 PM Eesah - Hold A Vibe 5:49 PM Steel Pulse - Your House 5:53 PM Biblical - Inna d Ites 5:58 PM Lutan Fayah - Rockstone 6:01 PM Stephen Marley - Hey Baby 6:06 PM Love Joys - All I Can Say 6:16 PM Ranking Dread - Fattie Boom Boom 6:20 PM Junior Kelly - Protection 6:24 PM Spectacular - Jah Rise 6:27 PM Jemere Morgan - Try Jah Love 6:28 PM Sylford Walker - Chant Down Babylon 6:31 PM Barrington Levy - Black Roses 6:34 PM Rita Marley - My Kind Of War 6:40 PM Stoneface Priest - After Pride Comes Fall 6:43 PM Blanca - Worthy 6:49 PM Jalifa - Kannabrain 6:52 PM R Zee Jackson - Keep on Pushing Rastaman 6:55 PM Wicked Dub Division - Not in My Name