#was a hell of a weekend oof

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Lotura Week 2023 Day 7 - Cooking Up Chaos

In Which Cats Invite Chaos

Emperor Lotor of the Galra entered his private study and stopped short in surprise, unsheathing his sword to wield against spies and soldiers. But the individual stooped over his desk—with all of its secrets of the empire—was no spy and certainly no decorated soldier that he knew.

Instead, a beautiful woman in an iridescent dress sat atop the wood, frozen, with Lotor’s own cat in her arms.

Lotor lowered his sword in disbelief, as before him sat the living image of the renowned Princess Allura of Altea.

She squeaked, releasing the cat before hopping off the desk in a manner most would have considered un-royal, her skirts lifting in the shuffle to show dainty ankles and a shadow of a slim, toned leg. “Oh,” the princess exclaimed, her elfin ears flicking back. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, whoever you are. You see, this darling creature stole my attention and guided me back here.”

Lotor’s split pupils lowered to the sight of the princess’s hands, which trembled as she moved to clasp her skirts.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea,” she babbled, moving to curtsey before him. Her thick, white curls slipped down her shoulder. “Please do not kill me, sir—my father would be very unhappy, as he would have to start a war, and really, no one wants a war anymore.”

The Emperor swallowed hard. He’d barely heard a word she had said, for his attention had swept to the princess’s bare shoulder and the glimmer of the gems in her hair. “I—” He cleared his throat, then straightened his spine. “I thought the planet Altea had not accepted my invitation at all.”

The princess stood up from her curtesy, eyes widening. “Your invitation?”

He tilted his head and swept out his clawed hand. “You are in my private study,” he said, his heart pounding. “And I am Emperor Lotor, the host of this ball.”

Allura’s slipped feet disappeared under her thick skirts, as did Kova, who continued to purr happily against her legs. Her chest heaved with fearful breath. “You’re Emperor Lotor? You?” She awkwardly began to backstep.

Most oddly, the more she stared at him, the more heated her cheeks grew, which Lotor could visibly see by the brightening glow of her Altean marks.

He could hear her heart pound in the same rhythm as his own.

And then he could sense it, even beneath her juniberry perfume.

Out of all the woman who’d come to the ball for his hand, it was the Princess Allura who found him attractive.

Lotor said to Allura, his velvet voice light and unassuming, “My apologies, princess. I did not mean to intimidate you. This is simply an odd spot to meet my most elusive neighbor from Altea.”

She flushed deeper, her marks a bright glimmer of pink. “Oh, I—I feel I’ve made a terrible bungle of things. I was supposed to—” she cleared her throat. “Well, I was quite hoping to represent my planet appropriately, and here I am chasing a pet.”

He smiled, his fangs glimmering in the low light of the study. “Kova is known to enchant all, but he rarely chooses to return the attention. That must make you special, Princess Allura.”

Her elfin ears—so sleek and delicate—flicked with the praise.

The heat off of her radiated to him, along with the maddeningly fast pound of her heart. His eyes began to dilate in response to her pheromones and the tension of the space between them.

Princess Allura swallowed hard visibly. “How, um, should I make up for this social faux paus, Emperor Lotor?”

Lotor hummed, then held out his hand. “I would request a dance with the Princess of Altea, if she is agreeable. And if she can untangle Kova from her skirts.”

The cat’s tail swished lazily from beneath the hem of Allura’s dress. He had lain over her slippered feet, purring loudly in contentment of her warmth and scent.

Allura made a noise, delicately lifting up her skirts to reveal the sleepy cat. “Am I allowed to dance with your owner, little one?”

Lotor’s eyes caught sight of the princess’s dainty ankles once more, along with the glimmering gems of her slippers. He had difficulty looking away.

The cat meowed in a pout before rising up, slinking away with a look at Lotor.

Lotor glanced back at him, quirking a brow.

The next thing he knew, the princess’s fingers gently grabbed for his own, and her scent enveloped him in a delightful haze.

“I do not know Galran dances,” she admitted quietly, raising her eyes to him. “But I am willing to learn if you do not mind to teach me, Emperor Lotor.”

He glanced back at her. The tension between them heightened.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, “you could teach me an Altean one in return.”

Her face lit up with a bright smile, her cheeks glowing once more.

[kartana]

Fully organized my clothes and room. I'm cracked? Somehow had a full day tomorrow I spend money again on food. Everyday it's food but tomorrow I'm really going to try and eat enough. I will be honest and act with self respect tomorrow while still being respectful and also I will try to get what I want. Nothing will happen I have no expectations my goal will always be to just have a good time and make sure others are having a good time the rest is extra. It is enough more than enough to have that. Ok sleeping I'm going to make eggs tomorrow morning and try to eat a lot. Wish me luck!

[no1ryomafan]

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile regarding kikaider stuff but after watching Mazinkaiser I had a realization with older anime IPs when it comes to adaptations even if it’s so obvious.

When we think of anime adaptations we tend to either see “they’re 100% faithful just a few scenes might get cut out for time, or the anime might expand on the manga a tad more” (the more recent stuff) or “they start by faithfully adapting the manga before it goes into a different direction and makes up its own story” (a trend usually seen in the 2000s) but I think older anime IPs strike a interesting middle ground of “they were already different from the manga yet are still adapting elements from it.”

An obvious examples is the getter ovas change details of the manga but new which is considered the “closest” to the manga is still super different-aging up the cast, how Michiru is very different, having musashi and Benkei be one dude, etc-I would say dynapro has a general trend of doing this even if they do try to adapt key moments, but I also thought about how kikaider did this with its first anime. Instead of being 1 to 1 to the manga it changed a lot of things, and it especially feels clear with the second anime they wanted you to have read the manga.

Of course this has its downsides if all the shows expect you to read the manga first as watching anime is easier for most people-though the reverse is true for others-but I do find this a lot cooler how the anime and mangas are different from the start yet share things that it feels encouraging to read and watch both of them rather then the whole of people going “watch this anime adaptation that’s mid until it gets mid then read the rest of the manga”.

[foxgloveinspace]

Google having both II and Vessels names on the credits for Atlantic feels malicious I won’t lie.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 8

Jaune: *trying to leave*

Glynda: And where do you think you are going, young man?

Jaune: *sigh* Professor Goodwitch, We are still technically the weekend and i highly doubt my co-dependency is enjoying... Whatever we are doing.

Penny: *Smiling* Oh do not mind me friend Jaune, i'm fine going wherever you want to go!

Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, this is very important if you want to stay in Beacon. We can't risk you having a panic attack, or something similar, in the middle of a mission.

Jaune: Glyn- *cough* I mean, professor Goodwitch, i understand the importance of mental stability, but meditation isn't something i can easily do when... Well... *Point at Penny* i need to concentrate on repairing her mind.

Glynda: ... Quite. *Sigh* You may go, but i want you in my office the second you are available.

Jaune: *Nod* Will do, ma'am.

___________________________________________

Penny: *walking in the streets of Vale with Jaune* Why did you lie to her? She could have helped us against Roman!

Jaune: *looking at a map* Your communications are out?

Penny: Since yesterday, yes-

Jaune: I already have a deal with Roman.

Penny: *frowning* You made a deal with him? Why?!

Jaune: *taking little alleys and backstreets* Well, who's better than him to give me information on Cinder? Not only that, but i also asked him to use his contacts to dig up dirt on Lionheart.

Penny: That's also something i don't really get, why aren't you telling Osc-, *shaking her head* i mean Ozpin, about everything?

Jaune: *sigh* You don't have all the information, Penny. You only got my memory of when you were there... Beside, you saw how competent he was with choosing his allies.

Penny: *computing* That's... Fair. But what about Glynda?

Jaune: *shaking his head* Too loyal... In fact- *pick up a rock on the ground* the only one i could trust- *turn around and aim for the suspicious looking Crow* Is a dusty old alcoholic! *Throw the stone directly at Qrow's bird form head, making him fall on the ground*

Qrow: *transforming back into his human form* Oof! *Looking up at the teen* Don't you know you shouldn't harass wild life?

Jaune: *smiling* Don't you know it's impolite to listen to private conversation?

___________________________________________

Qrow: *blinking* Wait... You come from the future?

Jaune: *shaking his head* I'm Jaune from the present. Or at least, the body is. My memories, on the other hand, are from the future*Think about his time in the ever after* ... mostly.

Qrow: ... *Goes to take a sip of alcohol*

Jaune: *frown* You should stop that, Summer would be pissed.

Qrow: *looking at Jaune* Now listen here punk, using my dead friend's name is not-

Jaune: She's alive.

Qrow: ... What?

Jaune: She's in hiding, since she got the summer maiden power and-

Qrow: *angry* WHAT!?

Jaune: *surprised by the reaction* Qrow, calm down! It's not as if she had a choice!

Qrow: DID OZPIN KNOW!?

Jaune: No! No, he doesn't. Heck, you should know since you've been searching for the Maidens a majority of your huntsman life.

Qrow: I... BUT... *Sigh* Fucking hell.

Jaune: *sweating* Your sister, on the other hand-

Qrow: That bitch!

___________________________________________

Ozpin: -and you are certain about this?

Qrow: *a glass of water in hand* About 97% sure. The kid isn't a spy from Salem.

Glynda: *still looking at the glass of water as if the world stopped spinning* ... Did... Did something else happen? Like a divine intervention or a miracle?

Qrow: *stifled a laugh* Nothing like that, i just thought i should cut back a bit. *Thinking back at the stone* My reflexes aren't as sharp as i thought.

[caws5749]

hiii i saw that you were looking for fluff requests so could u do something like natasha and reader both busy and not looking while walking through stark tower or soemthing and y/n obviously knows who natasha is has a bit of a crush on her and nat is like teasing her. later on they keep bumping into each other until nat is like “i’m done with the meet and greets” and asks reader out on a date. (nothing specific lol take and pick at if if you’d like, i just wanted to pitch in! :))

WARNING: THE BAREST HINT OF THIRSTING AND MENTION OF BREASTS IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF

A/N: you know that part in despicable me where she goes "IT'S SO FLUFFY" ?? yeah that came to mind reading this because ITS SO FLUFFY AND CUTE AND SUCH A GREAT IDEA THANK YOUUUUU <3

Consulting with the Avengers team was something you still couldn't believe you had the privilege to do. You had more been consulting with the brand itself versus the actual humans, but it still felt like a privilege.

You were a bit rushed leaving the compound, face glued to your phone looking at the plane tickets for the upcoming weekend. You were set to visit a friend but hadn't even bought your ticket yet. With one strap of your bag hanging off your shoulder, you rounded the corner and bumped right into someone...hard.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," you quickly got out, eyes finally moving up to meet lively green ones. Your jaw dropped a bit.

"Are you alright?" Natasha asked softly, eyes scanning your form for obvious injury. When she found none, she focused back on your face. She didn't even seem fazed by the collision.

"I'm fine, I'm so sorry, are you?" You questioned quickly, nearly slapping yourself in the face once you realized you asked an Avenger, hell, the Black Widow, if a bump into you had injured her.

"I'm alright, thank you. You seem like you're in a hurry, I won't hold you up."

All you could do was nod as she walked around you and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

++++++

Somehow the exact same thing happened again, though this time it wasn't your fault.

Natasha was exhausted, just returning from a mission that drained her both physically and mentally. While it was only just after five in the evening, she couldn't wait to go straight to bed after a warm shower. She exited the elevator as soon as the doors opened, walking right into you.

"Oof," you muttered in surprise.

"Are you- I know you," the red-head stated, her eyes scanning over your form for injuries as they did previously, even after just a simple bump. "I'm sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Natasha," you replied as you sent a reassuring smile. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards.

"And you are?"

You blushed. "I'm Y/N L/N. I consult for the Avengers."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'll see you around."

You entered the elevator, your legs feeling like lead. You turned just in time to watch her continue her walk down the hall. It just might have been the greatest sight you'd ever seen.

++++++

The universe must have been against you because it just seemed utterly impossible for you to not run into the widow.

It was just after midnight and you couldn't wait to leave. You were trying to finish up a big project and you knew having it done as quickly as possible would be a good thing, especially because you believed in the project so much. So you stayed in a conference room working later than normal. But you were exhausted and it was time to go home so you quickly tossed your things in your bag and headed out the door. You reached the door to the hallway and pushed it open with all of your might, eyes widening when a certain red-head had to jump out of the way to avoid it.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Again," you rushed. "Are you okay?"

"It didn't hit me, I'm okay," Natasha responded, before tilting her head. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Just trying to finish up a project. I hadn't really realized what time it was, to be honest."

She hummed thoughtfully. "You know, we do have guest rooms if you want to stay the night. You might not want to be out driving this late."

God, you knew it wasn't her protecting you or being worried about you because there was no way, but you couldn't help the flutter in your chest and the red that creeped into your cheeks.

The woman across from you smirked at your pink cheeks. She wasn't sure if you were like this with everyone or just her, but she loved it.

"Oh, I'm fine, but thank you. That's really nice of you... guys. That's really nice of you guys," you babbled, feeling the heat spread to your entire face.

"Just don't tell Tony I offered, he's picky," she laughed, before pulling the door open and walking through.

"Might want to check your temperature, Y/N, you're flushed like you have a fever," Nat yelled back, amusement in her tone.

No chance she hadn't noticed then. You were certain you couldn't make any bigger a fool of yourself.

++++++

The next time you ran into her, thankfully there were no close calls for injuries. Natasha had just finished her workout and was heading to the kitchen for a snack, where you had just finished a conversation with Sharon Carter, who had helped you on your latest project. She had told you to grab anything you wanted from the snack drawer, something that was somehow empty by the end of each day.

You searched the drawer for something that seemed appealing, jumping out of your skin from a smooth voice that came from behind you.

"Find anything good in there?"

"Natasha," you breathed as you whirled around, heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes widened as you took in her sweaty appearance, skin glistening, the top of her breasts just visible with the sports bra she had chosen.

"See anything you like?"

You flushed a deep red. "I, uh-"

"In the drawer, Y/N," she interrupted, eyes sparkling with humor.

"I- not really."

She walked up to you, the distance between the two of you now nearly nonexistent. You could see the dimension in her green eyes, the sweat bead slowly making its way down her right temple, the gentle pink to her full lips. You gulped, trying to steady your breathing when her arm reached around you, grazing your skin as she grabbed a snack from the drawer.

"I'm tired of these little meet and greets. Meet me here later at 8."

She gave you a wink and walked out.

You weren't quite sure what you'd done to deserve a date with that woman, but boy were you grateful.

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: Hawkins is home once again, and you're determined to keep your peace. The past comes calling.

chapter warnings: slow burn, motherhood, swearing, childhood trauma, fluff, sweet sweet memories and friends bonding again. <3

a/n: I don't want to give spoilers, but we may or may not have a run-in with a certain metal head in this chapter! :O (just a taste, a lil treat bc you've all been so good.)

chapter 3: Silver Springs || series masterlist

NOVEMBER 4th, 1983

Friday was the best day of the week.

Sure, weekends are great, but Friday night meant movie night at the Munson’s.

“You better not make her watching nothin’ scary, Edward.” Wayne huffed, grabbing his choice of cap from the wall, as well as big winter coat.

Eddie’s hand flew over his heart. “I would never! Not so close to the holidays!”

You threw a piece of popcorn at his head as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “Holidays? It’s not even Thanksgiving!” Eddie motions for you to keep throwing so he can catch one in his mouth. You oblige, but not without a protest of your own. “I would like—no, I demand a comedy.”

Eddie bowed to you, peering up and showing off the piece of popcorn he’d caught at the last second “What m’lady wants, she shall receive.”

The trailer door blew out of Wayne’s grip as he opened it, “Christ, it’s freezin’! Turn the heat on, boy. Your date is gonna freeze to death.”

Eddie gives you a knowing look. There’s no point, his eyes send the message loud and clear. The two of you have told Wayne dozens of times that you weren’t on dates, you were just best friends hanging out.

He didn’t buy it.

“Why does she get the heat? Pretty sure I got frost bite when I got outta the shower today.”

“Because,” Wayne slid his hands into a pair of work gloves as he walked toward you. “I like her and I want her to keep comin’ around.” He bent down, and kissed the crown of your head.

You protested, “I don’t wanna bug you—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Eddie teased. “Ya know you say that a lot?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You could never bug me—ever. Even if you could, who cares? Not like it’s a bad, it’s a good bug you reserve just for me; my bug.”

Your eyes seemed to roll of their own free will, “Eddie.”

He dropped down next to you, putting a hand on your upper thigh as he offered you a twizzler. “Yes, Bug?”

Neither of you had noticed when exactly Wayne slipped out.

You’d compromised that night. Ghostbusters, a little something for the both of you.

About 30 minutes in, Eddie looked at you. He took in how you laughed at something Bill Murray said, how the sound bubbling from your chest made your nose crinkle.

God, he could listen to that sound all day.

When you turned to him, he panicked. Standing quickly, “Uh, shit…here,” he said, not knowing where the hell he was going with the sentence.

Eddie looked around for a moment, what felt like an hour for him was surely only a few seconds. He ended up grabbing Wayne’s old Polaroid camera from the shelf. “C’mon, we gotta take a picture.”

You smiled through your confusion, “Why?”

Eddie shrugged, “Because we never do! And I wanna remember this even when we’re so old we can’t remember our own names.”

“You want to remember a randoms Friday night?”

He nodded. “If it’s a Friday night with you? Always.”

The whirr and click of the camera went off before you knew what was happening. “Eddie, I wasn’t ready! I’m gonna look like a fucking Goblin!”

The timber of his laugh made your heart race. Eddie pulled the film from its slot beneath the lens. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bug. Troll maybe, but never a Goblin.”

You elbowed his ribs at the exact moment he connected with the couch.

“Oof.” He laughed. “C’mon, smile?”

“Fine.”

Eddie put his arm around you, pulling you in close. A second later, the flash blinded you both, leaving you dazed and giggly for the next minute.

You held out your hand, and gestured to where the photo of the two of you was laid out to develop. “Let’s see it then.” You demanded.

Eddie pulled it off the coffee table, looking at it before he handed it to you.

He wasn’t looking at the camera, no. His eyes were on you, and he was smiling harder than he’d thought was possible.

He saw how you were leaned into him, your hand holding his as it draped over your shoulder, the light behind your eyes, the smile he couldn’t get enough of.

Eddie felt it then.

So immediate and sudden it felt like his heart got struck by lightning, and it was then that he realized two things:

That this feeling, whatever it was, couldn’t possibly end well.

And two?

He is so fucked.

It became easier to breathe.

You hadn’t realized just how suffocating life here had become. To be back in Hawkins and still feel like you were hiding and alone. Though now, and in the weeks since you’re run-in with Robin and Steve, it all got a bit brighter and a little less heavy.

Steve was committed to putting the past behind you, a sentiment he all but drilled into your head the first night he visited Maggie and you at the house.

“You did what you thought you needed to do to make it. You’re back now, though. Let us be there for you.”

He also became Maggie’s own personal jungle gym. Whenever they watched a movie or had a snack together, your daughter could be found on top of him in some way. They especially enjoyed watching cartoons on Saturdays; Maggie perched on top of Uncle Cheeseball’s shoulders, because according to her it was the ‘best seat in the house.’

Robin couldn’t be deterred either.

She’s over at least three nights a week now, and Maggie is obsessed—like, seriously obsessed. It’s the sort of bond you watch from afar and admire, the way your friend opened her heart to your daughter. How she’s protected her innocence and encouraged her silliness.

Kids aren’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea. They’re loud and messy and demanding in a totally innocent way. They require you to think before you act and never put yourself first. It’s why any dates you’d been on over the years hadn’t worked out, most people disappeared after they learned of her. Not that you cared, Maggie was number one in your life, and you were damn proud of that.

But now here you are, the life you had been convinced you’d never have was happening before your eyes.

“And ya know what else, Miss M? Your Mom fell right on her butt and slid all the way down the hill!”

Maggie’s laughter echoed off the your living room walls.

“Hey! It was December and Hillcrest is notoriously icy when it snows!” You feigned insult, and tickled Maggie as her laughter multiplied.

“Mom! That’s so silly! How'd you stop sliding?” She questioned.

Robin’s eyebrow quirked up, “Yeah, how did you stop sliding?”

You sighed, embarrassment painting your face. “Steve—Uncle Cheeseball had to catch me.”

The two of them howled with laughter, “Yeah-yeah, laugh it up. I don’t like this, you’re in…cahoots!”

“Excuse me!” Robin objected. “I am a responsible adult!”

Maggie stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah! Me too!”

You leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Alright, well, it’s bedtime for all adults and former children.”

Maggie whined, but let out a yawn mid-grumble.

“See? Proof.” You booped her nose. “Go on, you have school tomorrow. Teeth, pjs, bed, okay?”

Maggie hugged you, “Okay, Mama. Goodnight, Robby! I’ll see you on Friday for pizzas!”

She ran the few feet to your friend, and squeezed her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo.”

Maggie, by the grace of God, listened. She was so worn out from laughing and dancing and playing with Robin that she crashed as soon as her little head hit the pillow.

“Want me to take the trash out on my way?” Robin asked, hands full of the nonsense she’d brought along with her.

“Is there a 3rd hand in there I don’t know about?” You nodded towards her, “No, Robs. I got it, I just gotta do the dishes first.”

Robin smiled behind you, relishing in the gratitude she felt having you back. “I-I’m so proud of you.” It was a near whisper, and when you turned to your friend, she had tears in her eyes.

“Maggie is…she’s so cool! And you’re obviously an incredible Mom. I’m just, I’m sorry you felt like you had to stay away.”

Your own eyes burned at that. You walked to Robin and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry too, I’m sorry I didn’t call, or write…I just didn’t know how to—to be here.”

She nodded into your embrace, adjusting the items she cradled. “Well, you’re here now. Anything you need, say the word and I’ll be here, Steve too.”

You pulled away, “I know.”

Robin grabbed her keys with the few fingers she had free. “I don’t mean to ruin the beautiful moment of love and friendship, but have you thought about...him? About what’ll happen if you see him again? I mean, Hawkins isn’t exactly a big town.” She avoided using his name, and that didn’t go unnoticed.

It’s all I think about.

Fingers toyed with the hair tie around your wrist, “I wouldn’t even know…” your voice faded out. “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it, I’ve been here for a while already, and haven’t even heard anyone mention his name.”

That was true.

Everyone used to talk about Eddie Munson. The troublemaker, the cult leader, the devil-worshipping freak. The boy who was corrupting you, and ruining your future.

These backwoods hicks had no idea just how good he was back then. How kind and gentle and full of courage he was. You couldn’t understand why they hated him, not when you found it so easy to love him.

“I didn’t wanna upset you—“

“You didn’t,” you’re quick to reassure her, “it’s a logical question, and sure, maybe I’m avoiding the subject, but I appreciate you looking out for me all the same.”

Robin shrugged as if it was the most simple thought in the world, “Always.”

She left after an additional 5 minutes of arguing about helping you clean, to which you would not allow.

Cleaning up after a long day, while exhausting, was your only time to yourself. It was the one part of the day Maggie wasn’t asking something of you or looking for something or covered in something sticky.

Why is it always something sticky?

The dishes were done, and the counters were clean. You plopped on the couch, and turned on whatever the tv was playing at this hour and had just begun to fold the laundry, when the stink of the trash left by the door nearly had you retching.

“Nope, not waiting til morning…”

“Steve, Steve…” Eddie laughed.

The boy threw his hands up in frustration. “Eddie, I’m serious!”

Eddie slapped his friends shoulder. “I appreciate the worrying, pal. I’m fine, I had one beer let’s see…” the metal head looked at his watch, “an hour and a half ago. Why the sudden concern about my health and safety, hm?”

Steve blanched at the question, stumbling over his words. “T-There was an accident tonight! Drunk driver hit the pole on Cornwallis. Cops everywhere, ya know?”

Steve knew exactly why the thought of Eddie getting hurt or worse was suddenly a new phobia he developed. He had just hoped he’d hide it better than this.

Eddie sighed, “Great,” and stood, grabbing his keys out of his pocket, “back roads it is, gonna take me 20 minutes to get home now.”

Steve stood too, causing Eddie to glance back. He pinched his friend’s cheek, “Would you feel better if I called you when I got home, Stevie?” Eddie mocked, pouting his lip.

Steve pushed him away, “Shut up, man. Fine, that’s the last time I give a shit about my friends.”

Eddie laughed, “Nah, I appreciate it, Harrington. I’ll see ya on Friday right? Still looking your car over at the shop?”

“Yeah, yeah. See ya Friday.”

Eddie left Steve’s apartment smiling to himself.

What a good dude.

By the time he hit Cornwallis, the detour was worse than expected. It took him down several back roads and side streets Eddie is usually able to avoid all together.

Not to mention Forest Hills trailer park is on the opposite side of town from Harrington’s place. Eddie is usually able to zip down Main Street to save some time, but with Cornwallis a no-go, it was an addition pain in the ass to avoid the one-ways.

“Oh come on.” He griped. The car in front of him was going what seemed like negative miles an hour. He whipped the wheel to the left, evading the current route and instead, opting for an old way he remembered like the back of his hand.

Even in the dark.

It was eerie. To be on this street that he'd driven hundreds of times, knowing it wasn't leading to you.

He could practically see you, the way you’d sit on the curb until he got there, bag packed with your essentials for a few days. Wanting to get the hell out of this place before your Dad came-too.

The street was dim, lit only by the few flickering street lamps. He attempted to drown out the glimpses of the past, turning up the radio, and blasting Crazy Train so loud it made his windows shake.

Six houses away.

It was a subconscious entity; these memories shouting from the void and demanding to be remembered.

Three…

The porch light to your old house was on. “Huh…weird.” Eddie whispered to himself.

His van was barely at your mailbox when he slammed on his brakes, nearly getting choked by the seatbelt. He skidded to a stop, and killed the music.

Either he’s high as a kite, or it was you. Standing right in front of him as you dragged the trash can to the curb.

He’s hoping it’s the former.

You, rightfully so, looked like a deer in fucking headlights. Jumping back when you heard the screech of his tires.

But you know that van—you’d know it simply by the way it sounded coming down your street or by the shape of the headlights shining through the Hawkins fog.

The rusted hinges groaned when the drivers side door opened. Eddie was moving, but he wasn’t sure why. Not when very fiber of his being was screaming at him to stay in the van—to keep driving. Did he listen?

Of course not.

Eddie Munson says your name so softly and with such disbelief, it almost sounded like fear coating his tongue.

You, unlike the boy—man before you, were frozen.

That was the first thing you’d noticed. Eddie still looked like…Eddie, just a manlier—a more rugged version of the boy you’d loved.

He had five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. Cheekbones that were more defined, the hollows more pronounced. His hair was shorter, shorter than you remember it, anyway and he wore boots—work boots. Gone we’re the torn-up Goodwill sneakers he’d saved up weeks to buy.

He was in a black henley and dark wash jeans, though he still had his signature wallet chain and denim jacket.

Your heart slammed in your chest. Your dinner churned in your belly.

You could go. You could turn around and ignore him, walking back into your home and do exactly what he did to you.

But you wouldn’t, you’re better than that—better than him.

“W-Why…what are you doing here?” He half-mumbled.

“Minding my own business.” The strength in your voice surprised you.

Eddie was quiet, very uncharacteristically so, before he shook his head…presumably in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

“But you’re, you’re here. You’re in Hawkins.” You could practically see the proverbial egg shells he was walking on.

Was he…afraid of you?

Good. You thought. He should be.

You crossed your arms, “Nothing ever did get past you.”

He was stuck. Quicksand was pulling him down, holding his body tightly and dragging him into the Earth’s core. He couldn’t breathe, he was dying.

At least that’s what it felt like.

Eddie cleared his throat. “How, um, how long—“

“A while.” You interject.

How long had you been here? How long were you staying? It didn’t matter, the answer is the same.

“And you’re staying here.” He nodded to the blue house he’s rescued you from hundreds of times.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.” You we’re cold, colder than he’s ever heard you.

Eddie took you in now. You were the same in every way that mattered. Older, sure…but still you, and for that, Eddie couldn’t be more grateful.

You had new smile lines. Were you happy? He hoped to whatever God was listening that you were.

“It’s not, shit. I—I know it’s not. I just didn’t know—“

A noise from inside the house startled you. Your head whipped around, fast as lighting.

Shit. Maggie.

“You okay?” He asked.

No, no, no.

Ignoring him, you turn and start walking back to the house, when Eddie calls your name again, not daring to move from where he’d planted his feet.

You all but spit at him, “Leave, Eddie. There’s nothing left here for you.”

And you meant it.

When you were safely inside, you check Maggie, who was sound asleep.

The noise must have been the door, or the wind, but it scared to half to death.

He didn’t deserve to know her, and maybe that’s selfish, but you aren’t ready to share your daughter yet.

Not with him.

Who knows, maybe you never will be.

[charliedawn]

Heeey so can we get a pennywise (90s vers) x plus size reader? If its okay :)

"Well hellllo there, gorgeous."

You looked up and was met with a clown staring straight at you. You didn’t even seem surprised by his presence. Pennywise waited for the usual screams, panic and running…but all you did was keep staring back at him with that empty expression. You then—ever so slowly—lifted your cup of tea to your lips and took a sip. Pennywise tilted his head and his smile faltered slightly. He was inside your house. He was a stranger. Why weren’t you running for your life or even shaking in fear ?

You had asked for a couple of days off because you were sick and to get away from the assholes at work, but you were then interrupted on your first day off by Bozo the Clown who had appeared in your kitchen. And since then, Pennywise had decided to make you his own personal project. Even though you were obviously not impressed.

"Hey. You. Don’t ignore me." He demanded and you still royally ignored him. If there was one thing Pennywise hated was to get ignored. He kept appearing at random moments to spook you, but you kept your emotions in check and he finally had no choice but to use his powers to see in that big brain of yours—swimming around to see where the damn problem was.

He looked around and finally found what he was looking for. He saw you standing in front of a roomful of persons and being berated, insulted and humiliated by your colleagues who were so focused on your weight that they didn’t even care about your AWESOME presentation you had spent all your hard work on—sacrificing weekends to finish it.

And now, you were having a well-deserved rest before getting back to work in two days.

He winced.

"Oof. True nightmare-material there, sugar." He said before getting out of your head, but you didn’t dignify him with a response. You only sighed and returned to bed. He had never seen a human with so little energy…You looked like him before his big nap of 27 years.

He even summoned a whole movie theatre to assist to your worst memories and made you an unwilling spectator.

You started watching memory after memory.

But, your eyes remained empty.

Pennywise was waiting for you to crumble and be afraid—but all he saw was epic sadness and misery. His wide grin faltered and for a second…he was unsure of what to do. He kept staring at you. His pride wouldn’t allow him to leave, but he wouldn’t get anywhere with you if you kept being so damn sad and gloomy.

He finally sighed and rolled his eyes before clapping his hands—the movie theatre vanishing into thin air.

He then turned towards you with a frown.

"What’s your problem, huh ? I spent days trying to get a reaction out of you. But nothing. It’s like you’re made of stone or something. So, tell me. What will it take for you to finally show a lil’ fear, huh ?!"

At first, you didn’t answer. You just kept staring into the void—not actually seeing him. Pennywise could see it. You weren’t really there. Ans he could feel that he was talking to the air.

He stared at you for a few seconds before his eyes showed that glimpse of humanity he rarely let anyone see. He stared straight at you and sighed.

"…What is wrong with ya, kiddo ? Show me."

At first, there was nothing, but then…you opened your mouth and uttered in a whisper.

"I…have to go back to work tomorrow."

He frowned in confusion.

"What ?"

He was genuinely puzzled and finally, you seemed to look into his eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks as you repeated meekly.

"I…gotta…come back to work tomorrow."

Pennywise tilted his head before sighing.

"…Alright. You win." He got his pristine white glove off and took your hand—directly travelling into your brain to find what the hell you were so sad about.

As Pennywise slipped deeper into your mind, he wasn't sure what to expect. He'd seen fear, terror, anger—everything imaginable—but this was different. What could make human work, of all things, something to dread so intensely ? The clown's expression grew more serious as he navigated the labyrinth of your thoughts, brushing past memories of snide remarks, the weight of unrelenting deadlines, the feeling of being unseen despite giving everything. Or to be seen for the wrong reason.

Look ! Here’s fatty. Oink oink.

Big fat loser. You can’t even see your desk with that belly, can you ?

Here’s a dozen muffins for you. I hope it’s enough.

Pennywise’s eyes narrowed. What a bunch of crap…He then found a memory, vivid and crushing, of you standing at your desk, your boss' voice sharp as knives, cutting into you in front of the entire office.

You incompetent idiot ! If you weren’t so busy stuffing your face at the company cafeteria, then you would have had the time to get me those papers in time !

No one came to your defense, not even the coworkers you'd stayed late to help so many times. The way they stared, apathetic or entertained, as you wilted under the pressure. That was when he felt it—a bone-deep exhaustion and a kind of sadness that even he didn’t know how to exploit.

Pennywise paused, eyes narrowing in contemplation. Fear was his weapon, but this ? This wasn’t fear. This was something far more hollow.

He pulled back from your mind and looked at you, slumped in your chair, a single tear still clinging to your cheek. Pennywise, the eater of worlds, was silent for a moment.

"Work, huh ?" he said finally, voice softer than usual. "That’s what’s killin’ ya ?"

You didn't respond, your eyes glazed over, but something about your quiet despair pulled at him. He didn’t understand it, but for the first time, he wasn’t interested in scaring you. Instead, he knelt in front of you, placing his face in your line of sight.

"Why not just...not go ?" he suggested with a sly grin, as if the answer was obvious.

You blinked, momentarily confused by his question. "I need the job," you muttered, your voice barely audible. "Bills...rent...life."

Pennywise frowned again, staring at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. "You’re telling me...the thing that’s crushing your soul...is the very same thing keepin' you alive ?" He snorted, shaking his head. "Humans. You lot are a mess, ain’t ya ?"

He sat back on his haunches, studying you for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Tell ya what, kiddo. Take a break. Just for today."

He stood up, snapping his fingers. Reality rippled around you, the walls of your home shimmering, and suddenly, the entire scene shifted. You found yourself standing in a carnival—a twisted, eerie version of one, but somehow, it felt freeing. The air was cool, the lights were dim, and in the distance, you could hear the hum of a carousel.

Pennywise appeared next to you, hands on his hips, grinning once more. "Just for today, you’re mine. No bosses. No deadlines. No worries. Just...fun."

You stared at him, still processing the sudden shift. "Fun ?" you asked, as if the word was foreign to you.

Pennywise nodded, nudging you forward toward the carnival. "Yeah, fun. Ever heard of it ?" He leaned in close, whispering into your ear, "C’mon, kiddo. Let’s give your mind a break for once."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to follow…

The carnival lights twinkled like stars, casting an eerie yet somehow comforting glow over the desolate landscape. Pennywise's presence beside you was no longer suffocating or terrifying—it felt oddly inviting. He guided you through the twisted carnival, the rides and attractions warped by his imagination. The air smelled faintly of sugar and something metallic, and the distant echoes of laughter bounced through the night. You went on rides, ate popcorn and even got to spend time with a…You looked at Pennywise. A…friend ?

Pennywise glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "Tell ya what," he said, stopping in front of an empty stage with a flick of his wrist. "I think you could use a bit of magic. How’s that sound ?"

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but too drained to refuse. "Magic ?" you repeated, your voice hoarse with disbelief.

He twirled in place, his clown shoes squeaking against the wooden platform. "Oh, you have no idea what kind of tricks I’ve got up my sleeve, sugar." His voice deepened into that familiar, teasing drawl, and with a flourish, he pulled out a deck of cards—oversized, worn, and oddly warped.

Pennywise began shuffling them expertly, the cards flickering between his fingers in smooth, fluid motions. Then, without warning, he snapped his fingers, and the cards vanished in a puff of smoke. You blinked, and suddenly there was a balloon in his hand—bright red, its string dangling inches from your face.

"Pick a card," he said, grinning. "Any card."

Your mouth opened, then closed, as you stared at the balloon. "But there are no cards."

Pennywise tapped his chin dramatically. "Oh, aren’t there ?"

With a wink, he popped the balloon. Confetti exploded into the air, swirling in a dizzying array of colors before settling into the shape of a single card floating in front of you—an Ace of Spades. You reached for it, and as soon as your fingers touched the card, it shimmered and dissolved into stardust, leaving a gentle warmth in your hand.

"Ta-da !" Pennywise exclaimed, spreading his arms wide like a triumphant magician. "Ain’t I the coolest magician ever or what ?"

For the first time, you felt a faint smile tug at your lips. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you’d managed in a long time.

Pennywise’s sharp eyes caught the shift in your expression, and his grin widened. "Ahhh, there it is. See ? I knew I’d get a reaction out of ya eventually." He sauntered over and patted your shoulder—his white glove back in place, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone capable of such destruction. "Now, that’s what I call progress."

As the evening dragged on, Pennywise led you through the carnival, showing off various tricks, conjuring oddities out of thin air—balloons that turned into birds, mirrors that showed strange reflections, and snacks that tasted like childhood memories. Despite the eerie undertones, it was the most relaxed you had felt in weeks. Pennywise kept his antics light, knowing now that fear wasn’t gonna last long if he didn’t offer you a bit of hope to hang on to first.

As the moon climbed higher, your body grew heavier, the weight of the day's emotional rollercoaster finally catching up to you. Pennywise noticed you slowing down, your steps becoming sluggish.

He suddenly reappeared in front of you, blocking your path. "Alright, kiddo," he said softly, "time to hit the sack."

You blinked, confused. "Bed ? But we’re in the carnival…"

Pennywise gave you a knowing smirk, snapping his fingers. In an instant, the carnival faded, replaced by the familiar warmth of your room. Your bed stood just a few steps away—all inviting and cozy.

Without a word, Pennywise gently nudged you toward the bed, his once menacing grin now oddly reassuring. You didn’t resist, too exhausted to argue. He pulled back the covers with an exaggerated flourish and motioned for you to climb in.

"There ya go, all tucked in like a good lil’ human," he teased, but there was an unexpected softness to his tone. He pulled the blankets up to your shoulders and, with another snap of his fingers, the lights dimmed. "Sweet dreams, kiddo. No work, no nightmares—just rest."

For a moment, you stared up at him, unsure of what to say. Pennywise, the terror of children, the eater of worlds, was tucking you into bed. It was absurd—but strangely, it didn’t feel out of place.

Before you could thank him, he winked and vanished into the shadows of the room, his voice echoing in the darkness. "Just remember, if that boss of yours gives you trouble again, you’ve now got a friend in me."

And with that, you closed your eyes, letting the soft pull of sleep take you, finally at peace—for now.

[behoright]

secret situationship with andrei

you, a new intern for the PTs in the hurricanes. andrei, lonely, overworked player. and lots of long hours. warnings: 18+ contains smut, mentions of injury n blood. also this is cliche as hell.

- uhhhhhhh so basically

- yes you have to get a certain amount of hours to graduate and stuff

- and your older friend is a PT for the canes so

- after the scariest interview of your life

- and lots of begging very polite asking from your friend

- you’re in

- tough job tbh

- these men have many ailments

- it takes you a while to figure out who needs what and

- how they all work and move their bodies

- but it’s easy to get accustomed to the new environment when they’re all very nice

- and welcoming

- they’re all very good at communicating and helping you out

- but also they always acknowledge you and want to know more about you

- all except

- Andrei

- oh andrei

- he’s not rude or anything like that

- he definitely said hi and introduced himself

- but he’s very quiet

- and after a couple of weeks you notice

- you work on him the most

- and he’s definitely not this quiet with anyone else

- like not any of the other staff either

- but I mean

- whatever ig

- it’s not that it doesn’t affect you but

- you’re there to do a job and that’s it

- however you see that his teammates for sure have noticed it as well

- whenever he walks in there they go quiet and there’s always a lil smirk from them

you just ignore it

- like he’s really not being rude but he’s just not friendly or ever talks to you

- he’s a lil strange???

- stares at you a lot when you think you don’t notice

- you try to push it to the back of your head and just deal with him

- it’s most likely part of the job and it won’t be the last time you’ll deal with someone like this

- one day tho

- he’s the last one out of the room

- you’re done working on his shoulder and he stands up quickly

- as he usually does

- always says thank you and bye

- you dont notice bc your back is turned to the door but

- he stops and turns around

- “so, uhhhh, what are you doing this weekend?”

- and you turn like ???????

- “oh! um, nothing much, just study, i guess”

- and before you can even ask him anything back

- “that’s good. have fun.”

- and he WALKS out

- you stand there in disbelief almost

- like okay

- in the next weeks he asks you a lil bit more

- the staring is really getting like…. a lot. But it’s only when you’re not facing him like ????

- that’s good tho you think? he’s warming up a lil bit?

- he gets hit by a puck one game and

- thankfully you don’t have to stitch him

- but he has a lovely cut on the top of his cheekbone

- the next day during morning skate it reopens

- while you’re organizing in the PT room on your own

- and he comes in

- sweaty, out of breath and bleeding

- “they open” he says

- “oh, sure”

- for some reason he decides to sit on the lil bench that’s in there

- instead of one of those high massage table things

- perhaps it’s bc he has hockey pads and skates still on and stuff

- so you got over and start working

stand in between his legs

- today tho

- he is STARING up at you

- his jaw a little slack and he’s still breathing heavy a little bit

- it’s hard to work when you have to be so close to his face

- and he is legitimately staring like not looking away once

- you try to get your hands as steady as you can

- “does that feel okay? let me know if it hurts.”

- “perfect. it feels perfect.”

- he almost whispers it asjdydbhehdebdh

- you almost sigh in relief when you get it done

- “there you go. all done”

- you say as you wipe the blood on the cheek from before and

- this man

- wraps his hands around your like jaw/neck/hair

- you know that part 😭 like when his thumb is under your ear

- and as he stands up he kisses you

- a full on kiss

- he pulls back when he’s standing up

- looks at your lips

- looks at your eyes

- kisses you again

- he breathes DEEP into the kiss oof

- after that second kiss he almost books it out of there

- just walks away

- says nothing

- doesn’t look at you

- and you’re just left standing there

- flushed, heart beating overtime, breathless

- what the hell just happened ?

- should you tell someone?

- why? and like what???????.??

- you just…. go back to what you were doing

incredulous

- he definitely avoids you after as much as he can

- awkward glances only

- when you see him he doesn’t bring anything up

- goes back to being quiet

- until you’re alone again

- “hi”

- “hi”

- “uhh….”

- “what can I help you with today, Andrei?”

- “uh, it’s my ankle. You know, the usual”

- so he lays down and you do the thing in silence

- you keep thinking how RIDICULOUS this is

- when you’re done…..

- “do you need anything else, Andrei? Another kiss, maybe?”

- and he does tHE STARE AGAIN

- 5, 4, 3, 2,…..

- he can’t help but sit up and kiss you again

- after that day the floodgates open

- instead of avoiding you he SEARCHES for you

- you guys sneak everywhere just to kiss and make out

- he finally opens up and he’s actually quite friendly and funny

- he hides you in storage rooms, one stall bathrooms, the PT room, empty video room….

- you guys just make out like teenagers

- you’re VERY careful not to get caught and so far it seems like no one has any idea

- but its very obvious to you both that things are starting to get a lil heated

- during your last makeout sessions he keeps pushing his body against yours

- like hard

- like.... your back hit the wall hard and he's low-key grinding on you

- but youre able to stop it before anything happens

- you guys always leave super flustered and breathless

- orrrr

- his hands start to wander a lil bit...

- from your face, then eventually your waist and now he loves to grip your hips as you guys kiss

- you can feel in the kiss too how bothered he is

- the way his tongue moves... much more aggressive

- much more spit, and biting, and even teeth

- or he'll put his hands in your hair and even grip it at times

- during the last couple of times you both moaned a little bit shh

- and he was definitely hard when he walked out

- so one night

- you're both at the arena late

- as you both usually are because yes you have things to do

- but also for your regular nightly makeout appointment

- when he walks into the PT room tonight tho

- he looks

- different

- like girl.... different

- his EYES

- much darker, much bigger

- practically black

- he doesnt say anything to you

- he just walks slowly towards you

- "uh.... Andrei?"

- finally he reaches you

- youre immobile, literally frozen

- he's actually mouth breathing dude

- his nose touches yours

- "I can't fucking wait anymore."

- "I can't pretend I don't want it."

- 4, 3, 2, 1

- he parts your lips with his tongue

- HARSH kiss

- while he grabs the back of your head

- HARSH makeout session

- grabs your waist after and immediately and puts you on the lil massage table thing

- you're both moaning already

- he RIPS your shirt open

- rips it with his hands, split right in the middle

- "fuck"

- he pulls your bra down and just starts attacking your neck, chest and tits with his lips and tongue and teeth

- he only pulls back to take off his shirt and his sweatpants come down easily thanks to you

- his cock springs out bc he is not wearing any boxers

- its huge, and red, and actually throbbing

- the flush of his cock matches the one on his heaving chest

- he pulls you down the table and turns you around so he can take your pants off

- theres a lil table next to him with a bunch of equipment and stuff and its in his way so he just shoves it out of the way and it all goes flying

- but he needs his space and he needs You most importantly

- now

- i can't even say he thought about any sort of protection srry

- he fills you up quickly

- all the way in with one thrust

- doesn't give you time to adjust but you don't care

- "you are soaked, shit"

- he thrusts so hard the slapping sound of your bodies colliding is so loud

- and you are facing the OPEN DOOR to the room

- if someone walks by you're in so much trouble

- but truly you don't even care

- because hes fucking you so hard and so good

- and he's so big

- he hits all the right spots but also makes you bend over a lil more since he is in your guts

- and he's groaning and panting behind you

- his other hand is wandering around on your body

- he grabs your tummy, or your tits, or runs it down your back, buries it in your hair

- he moves it down to your clit after spitting ON HIS FINGERS and audibly too

- applies the most pressure when he's rubbing your clit in circles

- there is no way to conceal any of your moans it just feels so good

- you're both getting sweaty too fkjvnkfjv

- safe to say you finish relatively easily and fast

- he cums with you

- straight up just

- fills you up with his cum

- you can actually hear it filling you up its so dirty

- andrei finishes with the loudest groan

- it rumbles so deep in his chest it's almost a growl

- the change between horny andrei and afterwards... dramatic

- he turns you around and he looks completely different

- "you okay? I hurt you?"

- "what? no, that felt amazing"

- and he smirks yOU KNOW THE ONE

- takes a couple of steps back and leans against the wall behind him bc he's still out of breath and hot and sweaty

- but the whole time looking at you

- you both look over at all the stuff he threw on the ground

- he chuckles before turning back to you

- "made a mess, uh?"

helps you clean it up after you get dressed bc he feels bad and he's so embarrassed

i must also say you guys were not the last people at the rink.... little did you know marty decided to stay back too....but... did he hear anything?

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Mean Girls (Discord Drabble) "i'm on a bit of a writing hiatus" i say as i write something that is definitely not a drabble and want to write more of...

"What in the hell are you two doing?"

Steve and Robin turn in unison to find Erica standing on the other side of the front counter, one hand hovering over the bell, the other holding My Little Pony... Something.

And Robin is smart enough not to attempt to guess which outing in Equestria the younger Sinclair sibling is going to gallivant into this weekend.

"People watching," Robin shrugs.

"But..." Erica begins, giving Family Video a sweeping glance, "The store is full."

Robin tents her fingers, "The store might seem busy, my young friend. But we have entered, Limbo."

She wiggles her fingers in Erica's direction, but the kid swats her away.

"Meaning?" Erica asks.

"The store is filled with people who just got off work on a Friday Night," Robin explains, propping herself up on the counter with her elbows, "Lonely souls. Boys and girls getting ready to impress on Movie Date Night. Sleepovers. R&R time... Sensual adult – "

"Please do not finish that sentence," Erica interrupts, recoiling.

"Boom!" Steve beams, clicking his fingers before jotting a point on their inventory list-turned-scoresheet, "Penny from the Pharmacy just picked up a copy of Friday the 13th."

"Wait!" Robin yelps, rushing to her best friend and crowding him against the computer, "How could you have possibly guessed that?"

"Because she's dating that dickhead from the dry cleaners," Steve states as if it's totally obvious, "And he only rents horror shit. Plus, Friday is..."

He raises a brow expectantly, leaning into her side.

Robin sighs.

"Friday is Date Night."

"And yet, you lose," Steve teases and honestly, Robin wants to donk him on the noggin with their stupid clipboard.

Smug bastard.

"Can I be served!"

Robin snatches back the scoresheet, certain that Steve must be cheating. He cannot possibly have a perfect score!

She turns back to their demanding customer and finds Erica craning her neck to get a look at the clipboard.

"If you won't let me join in, that is," she adds with a challenging pout.

"Sure," Steve says, breathing down Robin's neck now, a grin evident in his voice, "Can't be any worse than Rob, here."

Robin swiftly elbows him in the stomach on her way to pick up the scanning gun.

She waves it around for a moment, carefully searching for the perfect candidate and soon settles for Scott Clarke.

"Mr Clarke..." she declares, slowly raising the scanner with an Ellen Ripley level of accuracy.

"Easy," Erica shrugs, "Mr Clarke is a boring nerd. I bet he watches documentaries in his spare time, on a Friday night, like a boring nerd."

They watch as Mr Clarke does, indeed, meander to the store's (very small) Documentary Feature section.

"Wait!" Steve panics, yanking back the clipboard, "I didn't have that."

"Oof..." Robin hums, pointing the scanner at her best friend and making a kapow noise.

[nikolai-alexi]

For @jegulus-microfic

Prompt: Weekend (I’m a day late, but I fell asleep at my desk writing this last night lmao)

WC: 1,250 i really tried to keep it under 1k but fjdjdnfjr here we are i once again failed the “micro” portion of this

Tags: Poly RoseStarKillerChaser (Jegulus x Rosekiller), a very strange RSKC dynamic here, James and Regulus have been together for a year-ish but James, Evan and Barty are only just beginning to navigate their own little relationship, James is quite anxious about the whole thing but he’s trying really hard, it’s very vaguely implied that Regulus, Evan and Barty have been together for a while (in what capacity? idk man I just work here), it’s all very queer platonic tbh, they’re just a big puppy pile of exhausted people and everyone uses James as a human heater like the little reptiles they are, Barty is a human wrecking ball and just constantly walks into a room and bites whoever’s nearest to him because he’s Barty and what else would he do, I have an unreasonable amount of affection for James calling Barty “bub”, Evan is adorable and touch starved and just wants a hug, Reg is a cat animagus, it’s vvv wholesome

It’s the first weekend they’ve all managed to be together since term started. Which is, objectively, insane because it’s Christmas break. Every single time they’ve tried to spend any amount of time together, someone has had something come up. Whether that’s exam prep, suspicious friends, detentions, or projects, it’s all somehow managed to ruin their plans.

And look, James gets that trying to make four schedules align all at once whilst avoiding suspicion from friends or getting caught by professors is difficult, but he is sick of it. This…thing…they have going is new. It’s tremulous and blooming and none of them really know where the lines are with each other. It makes James so incredibly nervous. He knows where he stands with Regulus, after a year together he feels mostly confident in what he’s doing with Regulus, the boundaries, the navigating, the trauma responses. But with Evan and Barty? He has no idea what the hell is happening. It makes him anxious. He wants to know how to define the lines of this strange relationship the all have. They aren’t friends, but they aren’t not friends, but they aren’t lovers, but they aren’t not lovers. It makes James’ head spin. He doesn’t like not having clear expectations.

He’s forcefully ripped out of his rather maudlin thoughts when someone audibly collides with his side, knocking the breath out of his lungs with a soft “oof” and disturbing the previously peacefully sleeping cat on his lap. Regulus, in his frankly adorable animagus form, grumbles without opening his eyes more than a tiny slit and rearranges himself before going back to sleep. The scent of cigarette smoke, whiskey, and Evan’s vanilla shampoo invades his nostrils when he tries to turn his head.

Barty is slumped unceremoniously against his side, face buried into James’ neck, one hand atop Regulus’ soft fur, and the other fisted in James’ shirt.

Then Barty bites him. Hard.

James rolls his eyes. This, he understands. Their new dynamic may only be a few months old, but Barty entering a room and biting the nearest person to him? That was old news.

“That bad, bub?” He asks quietly.

Barty doesn’t say anything, just stops biting him so he can tuck his head into James’ neck and nod. James’ free hand instinctively comes up to card through Barty’s hair like he’s seen Evan do thousands of times. Barty stiffens at the first few passes of James’ fingers, but he slowly relaxes and James can feel his low hum resonate through his own chest.

He shifts just a bit and sees Barty’s ridiculously long legs hanging off the armrest of the sofa and chuckles. Barty is just a slumped over heap of awkward limbs and exhaustion. James’ wand is in his bag across the room, but a casual flick of his wrist has it sailing towards him.

Transfiguring the sofa whilst they’re laying on on it is a bit trickier, but he’s not been the top student in transfiguration for seven years straight for nothing. He manages to get a large bed with a bit of a crooked frame beneath them after several long minutes without disturbing Reg or Barty. Both of them are fast asleep. He’s not sure when Barty drifted off, but he can feel his soft snores against his neck.

Thank Merlin for the amount of Quidditch training he does, because trying to situate Barty is a feat, but eventually, he gets Barty tucked against his right side so he’s no longer hanging precariously off the furniture. Regulus has abandoned James’ legs in favour of smushing himself in between James and Barty, the body heat thief he is.

When Evan comes barrelling through the door of the Come and Go Room an hour later with dark purple bags under his eyes and a manic sort of look, James just holds his left arm out in invitation. Evan sheds his shoes and outer robes with easy efficiency and falls onto the transfigured bed in an eerily similar fashion to Barty. Evan isn’t quite as tactile with James as Barty is yet, so he has to quickly mask his surprise when Evan tucks himself against James’ side, tucking his freezing hands under James’ shirt.

“You okay?” James asks, careful to keep his voice as quiet as possible. Regulus still opens his eyes enough to glare at him, but perks up considerably when he sees Evan and comes to curl up on James’ chest, tucking himself under Evan’s chin. James feels him purring just seconds later. Reg doesn’t pick favourites, my left arse cheek, James thinks with a wry grin.

Evan sighs softly, and his breath tickles, but he doesn’t say anything, not that James expects him to. Evan is like Regulus with his words — selective and careful. When he speaks, you stop and listen. When he doesn’t speak, you listen to what his silence says. Evan and Regulus communicate more in their quietness than they ever do with speech. It’s been something James has had to actively work very hard on to understand. He and Barty operate on a much similar frequency to each other. They’re both chaotic and loud in their own ways. Barty has a mean streak that gets him into trouble, and James has no boundaries with other people which gets him into shitty situations. They balance each other out, sorta. James attempts to keep Barty from hexing first years and Barty pushes anyone who has the audacity to look at James wrong down the stairs. It works…sometimes.

James brings his arm up and very tentatively wraps it around Evan; a silent question hanging in the air between them, to which Evan nods his acquiesce. That small gesture makes warmth bloom behind his breastbone and he knows he’s not imagining the almost inaudible huff of laughter from Evan when he no doubt hears James’ heartbeat pick up underneath his ear. He doesn’t bother to keep the grin off his face.

He wraps his arm around Evan and drapes his arm over Regulus’ back, brushing his fingers against Barty’s. He doesn’t hold Evan to him, just keeps his arm loose and relaxed, draped over him. Never pinning or holding him down. Evan’s breath comes quickly for a few, long moments, but eventually it steadies out once more. It doesn’t take long, between being tucked against James’ side, the purring cat curled under his chin, and Barty’s annoying, but comforting snores, for Evan to fall prey to the siren call of sleep too.

James remains awake a while longer. He listens to Barty snoring, feels Regulus purring and his little paws making biscuits in his sleep, breathes in the smell of vanilla and the Forest after a rain shower that perpetually clings to Evan, and feels his mind’s activity slow to a crawl. All of his anxieties take a back seat, his racing thoughts settle down, and the constant buzzing between his ears quiets. He knows they only have this weekend. Monday will come around and Regulus and Evan will have to go back to their awful families for the holidays, he will go to his parents’, and Barty will be left, alone, at school. He knows they only have three days of this together, but from where he’s laying, this doesn’t seem like a bad way to spend their time together.

He loses the battle against sleep with a sweet smile stretched across his lips. Yeah, he thinks, this isn’t a bad way to spend it at all.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

This is Wrong, but It Feels So Right

Kinktober 2023 - Day 2

Pairing: Stepbrother!Ransom Drysdale x Stepsister!Fem!Reader

Kink: Stepcest

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Your parents are away for whoever knows how long and Ransom decides to blast his music so you go to yell at him but find him in a compromising position.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight d/s vibes, a hint of dubcon (but not really), riding, slight!sub!Ransom, male masterbation), brat!Ransom, yelling, cursing, stepcest, angst, slight fluff

a/n: Here is Day 2 of Kinktober! I'm sorry this is coming later in the day but I had to crochet for my business since I have an event coming up this weekend! Hope you enjoy this fic!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Your dad married your stepmom two months ago and her and her spoiled son, Hugh, or as he liked to be called Ransom, moved into your father’s modest two story townhouse. From the moment they moved in, Ransom had done nothing but complain about the house, the town, and everything that was subpar in his eyes. His stupidly blue eyes with his hard chest that he flaunts around the house and the stupidly hot noises that come from his room at night that made you all hot and bothered and above all frustrated that you had a stupid crush on him. He was a complete asshole to everyone which made you want to choke him out but also made you want to knock him down a peg. 

You two were home alone while your parents were on another vacation paid for by Linda, your stepmother. You were trying to take a nap in your bed when you heard loud music blaring from Ransom’s room making you groan and roll over and cover your head. You banged on the wall trying to get him to hear you but to no avail the music didn’t stop. You climbed out of bed in your boxers and lace bra and stormed out of your room to his room right next to yours. 

You banged on the door and yelled his name but no one answered and you tried the door knob and it was unlocked and you opened it. It swung open and you saw Ransom on his bed slowly stroking his stiff cock on the bed. You stopped for a second but shook it off and stormed in to turn off the music and Ransom spotted you and jumped up with a pillow covering his cock. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ransom roared as he saw you turning off his stereo. 

“I’m trying to nap because I have work tonight! But you wouldn’t know about that, would you, you fucking brat?!” You yelled matching his energy and he rolled his eyes. 

“You think you’re so better than me just because you’re miss goody two shoes!” He scoffed and you huffed and crossed your arms. 

“Well, I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth! I know I have to work for what I want! Not just ask mommy!”

“You’re such a bitch!” He growled and that was the last straw of your resolve. 

“I’m so tired of your attitude! Obviously no one taught you a fucking lesson! So I will.” You growled before you jumped on him and kissed him passionately. He froze as you kissed him with your legs wrapped around his waist. You pulled back to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He said outrageously and tossed you on his bed. 

You landed with an “Oof,” and you leaned on your hands, “I’m putting you in your place.” You growled and yanked him down to kiss him again and he fell on top of you. His hands reached out to hold himself up and he pulled back panting. 

“This is wrong.” He huffed as he looked down at you. 

“So? Our parents are never fucking home, they won’t notice. They don’t even notice us now. So why not have some fun?” You smirked as you pulled him closer to you and kissed him deeply.

He hesitated before huffing, “Fuck it. Always wanted to see what’s under these flimsy clothes.” He smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up against his chest. 

You smirked as your hands slid up his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck and yanked him close. “Good man.” You purred against his lips and his hands ripped your bra from your body and leaned down to kiss on the swell of your breasts. You ran your fingers through his hair pulling him close to your chest. He smirked against your skin as his hands ripped off your boxers then wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you two over. You straddled his lap and bit your lip as his hard cock slid in between your folds. 

His hands gripped your waist and pulled you down to grind against his cock making you moan and you yanked him down to kiss him passionately. He groaned against your lips as your soaked cunt dragged along his length. 

“All this for me, babygirl?” He smirked as your juices soaked his length making him groan at the feeling. 

You purred softly, “Mhm. Even though you frustrate the hell out of me, you’re so sexy.” You hummed as you pulled him closer to you and continued to grind against his cock. He growled against your lips and you smirked and shoved him back against the pillows and you reached back to pull his cock up and you slid down on his thick length making you moan out his name. “Fuck, no wonder those girls scream for you.” 

He chuckled as his heavy hands landed on your hips and pulled you further down on his cock. “Maybe you should’ve interrupted sooner.” 

You rolled your eyes before you grasped his wrists and pinned them over his head. “Enough talking. I’m supposed to be taking my frustrations out on you.” You giggled as you started riding him slowly, teasing him as you rode him. “Mm, you’re such a brat but god, if you can’t be generous.” You sighed happily as you sunk down and moved up in a steady movement. The pleasure was toe-curlingly good which made breathy moans leave your lips.

He hummed at your words and gave you a cocky smirk, “I do aim to please.” He purred as he playfully pushed against your hands and you leaned down to kiss him passionately. 

“You’re such a liar but you more than make up for it.” You smirked and pulled up to sit back on his cock taking him even deeper and you started moving faster. “Now enough talking.” You purred as your hands kept his wrists pinned. You moved quicker up and down on his cock letting out moans as your eyes rolled back with pleasure. One hand reached up to cup your breast and play with your nipples as Ransom laid under you, taking the pleasure you gave him. 

He moaned and groaned as your walls squeezed him tight with every movement. Your juices soaking him even more, dripping down his balls making him moan louder. You leaned down to kiss his lips and you released his hands and they immediately went to your ass and helped move your hips up and down. You moaned his name as you felt your orgasm growing in your lower belly, your walls pulsing around him bringing him closer to his own release.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum. Wanna fill you up. Can I cum in you?” Ransom rambled against your lips with a slight whininess to his tone that made you smirk. 

You sped up your pace riding him faster making him moan louder and he started whining your name as he got close. “Good boy. I knew you’d whine for me. Making all these pretty noises.” You smirked as you felt your release grow closer and you cried out as the tip of his cock slammed into your sweet spot making you see stars. “Fuck, cum for me, baby. Be a good boy and cum in me.” You purred against his lips as you moved faster moaning his name as you reached your peak. You cried out his name as your thighs shook around his hips. Ransom yelled your name as he came hard with you pinning your hips down against him and his warm cum filled you up. 

You let out a contented sigh as you slumped against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. “You know, I don’t usually go for this cuddly, lovey dovey, crap.” He said as his hands rubbed your back and down to your ass. 

“No shit. I’m the one who has to tell the poor girls you won’t call them back.” You scoffed as you nuzzled under his chin. 

“I mean, that you bring out the soft side in me and it pisses me off and yet I like it.” He sighed as he nuzzled into your hair. 

“Well, get used to it, cause I’m not letting you go.” You hummed as you laid flush against him. 

He chuckled, the sound rumbling his chest, “Good.”

[heymrspatel]

weekly tag wednesday!

i was tagged by @energievie @lingy910y and @deedala (if you tagged me and it glitched out hi! sorry i missed it) 💙

Name: julissa

Age: 34

Location: new york

What is your DJ name? dj eepy seepy

If you were a genre of music, what would it be? i leave you with this gem of a daylist

i'll haunt you. i'll stroke your chin. i'll make you cre- *gunshot*

What would you title your biography? "lol 😎👉🏼👉🏼"

What are the first three things you'd do if you were invisible? sneak into concerts, sneak into planes, sneak into trains lmao

What subject do you wish was taught in every school? literally how to do basic life things... like quick tell me what the fuck all these words mean in my health insurance renewal? how to manage finances? how to do taxes? 😠👊🏼

When was the last time you tried something for the first time and what was it? my sister gave me a tuna melt this past weekend. i always found them strange lol something about the tuna and the cheese?? idk but it was pretty good!

What is the most underrated city you have ever visited? uuhh idk what qualifies as underrated? i think everywhere i've been is pretty cool in it's own right! but i'd say inverness, scotland 🥰

What day in your life would you like to relive? oof... i've suddenly forgotten my entire life... (also trying to think about this has made me irrationally sad alsdkfjadlsf SKIP)

If you could eliminate one thing from your daily routine, what would it be and why? figuring out what the hell to eat. i'm not talking about eating. i love food. i'm talking about the decision of what i will eat. what do you mean i have to do that every day multiple times a day for my entire life? nah you buggin

How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse? immediately dead.

What would be the most surprising scientific discovery imaginable? i'm going to go with evie and say talking to animals! i would like that very much! let me talk to all the lil guys!!!

If you could have any view out your office window, what would you choose? mountains. big trees. flowy grass. a river. chirping silly birds. some bunnies. waddling ducks.

i'll tag @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @howlinchickhowl @crossmydna @mybrainismelted @blue-disco-lights @jrooc @mmmichyyy @michellemisfit @darlingian @thepupperino @transmickey @kiinard @jademickian @xninetiestrendx @too-schoolforcool if you would like to play! if not, this is just me giving you a cool feather 🪶

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for kind of being a homewrecker?

some background: i (22f) met this guy (23m, let’s call him rick) freshman year of college, four years ago. we became really close really fast, and we basically had all the same friends (we went to a very small school, it’s hard not to be friends with most people). unfortunately i took a year off of school after freshman year, so i kind of lost contact with all my college friends. when i came back, my friends and i reconnected immediately, but especially rick. we uh… sorta made plans to hook up at that point (we were horny and dumb and mutually attracted enough), but we got to my room and we kissed (which was my first kiss) but it was bad and i changed my mind before anything happened. the thing is, we were still friends after that, and he even told me that he was in love with me and thought that i might fall in love with him. he’s also said multiple times since then that he was being idiotic and that would have been terrible for us, and i agree, so we’re both glad that nothing happened. but since we were now in different grades, we weren’t as close friends, so that year passed without further incident.

fast forward a year (my junior year, his senior) and suddenly we’re getting closer again— we’re in a mutual club and therefore hang out a lot more. i realize at some point in november that oh shit, i have a crush on him. (sidenote— i don’t have crushes. i’d never been in love. ive realized since this that i think i might be on the aromantic/demiromantic spectrum, and i’ve always just said i’m queer because i… have had a very queer experience wrt my romantic/sexual feelings. sooooo.. this was weird). i mention this to another friend, and she informs me that rick had started dating someone.

oof.

so i don’t act on my feelings and hope that they go away. (spoiler: they don’t.) in january we hung out with a group of friends almost nightly. and rick and i flirt. oh god, do we flirt. but i didn’t even notice— that’s just the way that i interact with people, and he mirrors how people around him behave, so it was just a feedback loop of flirting while one of us was in a relationship! and the worst part is that is girlfriend (i’ll call her anne) was peripherally in the friend group; she hung out with the group sometimes, but not super often.

so obviously, a couple of our more perceptive friends tell us to shut the hell up and stop it. at this point i think, you know what? i’ll just avoid him. this lasted about two days, and then one of our mutual friends (i’ll call him joe) tells me i need to talk to rick. he can’t tell me why but i just need to talk to him.

so i text rick and i set up a time to talk to him, which i’m sure was scary for him, but i say him down and told him that we need to stop, because he’s in a relationship and it’s entirely inappropriate and i’m in love with him and he’s my best friend and i don’t want to lose him. and then he laughs. he told me then that he thought i was gonna yell at him to dump anne, because he had told joe that he wasn’t in love with her and never had been. and he thought joe had told me that so i could knock some sense into him.

so uh… he told me that he was going to break up with anne that night. (which, btw, was 2 days after valentine’s day. ouch.) he also said that that didn’t mean anything for us, but… the next day we hung out one on one all day, and then the next day, and then the whole weekend, aaaaand it was kind of a relationship. we started dating. it moved very fast, because we were already friends and we had already talked about sex in the past.

the thing that really pisses me off, though, is that another mutual friend threatened to tell anne about rick and i, so rick had to tell her at a really inopportune time instead of later. she was fine about the breakup before that, but after that she was clearly pissed, and ignored us both for the rest of the year. if it hadn’t happened that way i really think that we could’ve stayed friends, or at least stayed civil, but the way that it happened is still really upsetting to me. rick and i have been dating for almost six months now, and we’re really perfect for each other and i honestly expect to spend my life with him, but the way that it started was just such a mess and it still haunts me sometimes.

(to be clear: rick never cheated on anne. he’s been cheated on before, and has a bit of trauma in regards to that. cheating is just not a possibility for him.)

so… i know that i’m probably an asshole here, but… idk. should it bother me this much? or was it more justified than i think it was?

What are these acronyms?

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 6

MASTERLIST

word count: 2900+

Oof, sorry guys.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: descriptions of child abuse; mentions of ghosts; scary images; physical violence; domestic abuse; alcoholism; manipulation; depression; anxiety; undiagnosed unspecified mental illness; hallucinations; lying; arguing; lying; toxic behavior; cheating; brutal assumptions of infidelity with no evidence; slight mention of sexual themes/implications of sex; talks of rehab - let me know if I missed anything!

The cellar was musty, dark, and cold as cellars often are. There was no light except for the thin line of sunlight creeping through the rotten wood of the door. The stone walls and dirt floor offered no warmth in the January West Virginia air. There was no one to offer comfort to the little redheaded boy locked up in the darkness.

His leg was chained, the heavy metal leaving bruises on his bony ankle. He couldn’t keep track of the time very well, but he’d been down there long enough that the rumbling hunger in his stomach turned into pain. He’d been left with nothing but a bucket of dirty water that smelled of rotten eggs; it was just enough to keep him alive.

It took time, but he learned not to be afraid of the bugs and the rats. He had no food for them, and therefore was uninteresting. What he did fear, however, were the ghosts.

If they were actually there, or if they were just figments of his imagination, created in his own mind to make up for being alone, he didn’t know. They seemed real enough to him, though. Most of the time, he only heard whispers from shadows he couldn’t see. Sometimes a man’s voice would stick out from the rest, as clear as if it was sitting right next to him. It mostly asked him weird questions – “Is the rain coming? Did you bring in the firewood? Is the heifer put out to pasture?” The worst of them all was the burnt lady. The boy could smell it on her, the unmistakable stench of skin and flesh burning. She would get really close, where he could feel her hot breath on his face, and she would scream. Her banshee-like wails never ceased to frighten him; the boy would curl up on the cold dirt floor and cover his ears, sobbing until either the ghost disappeared, or he lost consciousness.

~

JOSHUA

“I thought you didn’t want to go to that thing. You said it was too ‘bougie’ for you or something.”

“I never said that,” argued Josh. “I just changed my mind is all.”

Jake snorted. Even over the phone, he could tell his twin was hiding something. “Did you and Finn fight again?”

Sighing in annoyance, Josh responded, “No, Jacob. He’s in Utah for the weekend anyways. I just talked myself into going, and Ron still had the extra ticket.”

Jake didn’t push any further, but he knew there was more to it than that. And he was right. Josh was still a little shaken up and didn’t quite know how to tell anyone. Truthfully, he was afraid. He was scared to be home in case Finn returned early, and he knew if he was in close proximity to Jake, the secret would inevitably get out. And he knew he needed to keep it under wraps, because he wasn’t ready to walk away from the man that he loved, despite every bone and bruise on his body screaming for him to do just that.

So, he called Ron, his vocal coach and long-time friend, to see if the invitation still stood for some classy music event in New York. There was still an open availability, and Josh jumped at the opportunity to be gone for a few days. He hoped Finn wouldn’t mind.

~

I replay it in my head nonstop on the drive to Salt Lake City. Currently sober, I pick at the memory to see if I can figure out where I went wrong, when things escalated to that point. I’m not having any luck. In fact, I can’t even remember why I was mad in the first place. It had to have been something he did, right? And it didn’t help that he argued back, talked to me like it was my fault, like I’m the crazy one. He was pissed at me for coming home drunk – hell, I was pissed at myself. But I can’t recall what else was said for the life of me, not until I put my hands on him again.

I grabbed him, tight enough to leave marks, I’m sure, and I slammed him into the edge of the dining room table. Hard. I’m surprised I didn’t break anything. I apologized immediately, of course. That has to mean something. I remember backing up against the wall and sinking to the floor. I cried and begged him to forgive me. I told him there was no excuse, but that it wouldn’t have happened if he just didn’t push my buttons when I’m in that state. The tears get under his skin and make him feel guilty, until he feels obligated to apologize to me. I promised him it won’t happen again. The black and purple bruises on his back and side were already starting to show by the time we finally went to bed.

It's eating me from the inside out, this guilt. I want to be someone else, anyone that isn’t me. I wish I wasn’t so unpredictable, like a feral dog when it’s cornered, snapping at the people trying to help it. I’m unstable like nitroglycerin, explosive and set off by the smallest jolt. But Josh is the one who keeps getting burnt. I’ll tell myself I’ll do better, that I can change, but I’m lying. I can fake it, sure, I’m great at faking it. I can pretend that everything is okay. I can even make Josh believe that I’m getting better, healthier, happier – that I’m healing. But it will only last for a short time until I stumble again, and I’ll grab him as I fall, taking him down with me.

I get through my work just fine. I spend all day Friday, Saturday, and some of early Sunday meeting with colleagues, organizing events, and gathering information and petitions for wildlife conservation efforts that will eventually be submitted to local and state government officials. It keeps me busy, so I can keep my mind off of other things, and in turn, it keeps me sober. Come Sunday evening, though, the fuse starts burning again.

I haven’t talked to Josh much. I’ve been preoccupied with work and figured we both needed space. I want to check on him, though, to make sure he’s okay. But when I call him, it rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. That’s reason enough for me to check his location, and it shows him in Manhattan. What the hell is he doing in New York? He definitely didn’t say anything about going out of town. At least, not to me. And why would he hide that from me other than to keep secrets? I just can’t decide why he ended up there; is he running to let himself be held in someone else’s arms, or is he running away from me? Is this some messed up way to tell me it’s over? Does he realize he’ll take a part of me with him if he leaves?

I try to call him again but I get the same result. What could he possibly be doing there?

I end up at a nearby bar, because it seems like a better idea than going home when I know Josh isn’t there, and a much better idea than chasing him to Manhattan. The bar seems to be a pretty popular joint. There is a live band, mostly playing older rock music, and they offer a selection of mixed drinks and cocktails, but I prefer straight tequila or whiskey.

I don’t know how long I sit at the bar; time passes so strangely when I’m in this state. The outskirts of my vision are blurry and everyone around me seems to move in slow motion. I watch the ice in my drink as it seems to change shape, molding itself into faces I don’t recognize. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was drugs, swirling my thoughts into some that are not my own. But I do know better. It’s just my own fucked up brain chemistry. It’s scarred from my twisted history, irreversibly damaged. I know what I’m seeing isn’t real, and I’ve learned how to sit quietly and pretend that I’m not on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Sometimes I’ll see her in my periphery, sitting next to me, the smell of her burnt flesh making my eyes water. I never look directly at her, though. I can’t bring myself to, out of fear that if I can really see her, she’s real.

I’m definitely drunk, but I haven’t completely hit rock bottom yet. I could probably still walk just fine, maybe even drive. At any rate, the bartender hasn’t cut me off yet, not that that’s ever stopped me before. Someone slides in next to me to order another drink and I have to do a double take.

He’s young, maybe in his early 20s. The first thing I notice are his hands, visibly soft and slender, wrapped around his glass with painted fingernails. His hair is dark and cut short, but I can see a few stray curls that he tried to hide with hair product. He asks the bartender for a whiskey sour and I can’t stop staring at his lips, plush and pink. Despite the obvious differences, he looks so much like Josh and I’m hypnotized.

He must have felt me staring and turns to meet my eyes. He flashes me a bright smile, and I’m compelled to give him one in return.

“Hey, you’re a cutie.” He leans closer to be heard over the music and I can smell liquor on his breath. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s probably drunk, too. I don’t know how to respond but he fills the gap. “You here with anyone?”

“No.” I shake my head. A decent man would tell him at this point that he’s already spoken for, but I’m far from decent. “I’m just in town for work. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Someone as handsome as you, you’ve got to have somebody waiting for you at home?”

He’s a flatterer, and oh so considerate of my boyfriend, who he doesn’t even know exists. He’s given me more than one opportunity to be a good person, to be the person I want to be, if not for myself, then at least for Josh. But I’m undeniably angry at my boyfriend for lying, betrayed by whatever I’ve decided he’s doing up there. So, it’s no great surprise that I choose to lie, to fuck everything up as I’m prone to do. “Nope, it’s just me.”

“Well, good.” He grins and places his hand on my arm, leaning closer so he can speak directly in my ear. “I’d hate for you to spend the night alone.”

I should push him away, put some distance between us, and make it clear that I won’t be leaving with him. But I don’t. His smile is sweet, but I know he isn’t as innocent as he seems. He knows what he’s doing. I’d bet a whole paycheck that he does this often; his body count is probably higher than Josh’s. But who am I to judge, especially at this moment? If he wants to give it up to the first attractive stranger in a bar, I won’t deny him that. It’s likely what Josh is doing right now, anyways. He’s probably choking on some other guy’s cock, being used up like the fucking slut he is. And if he’s going to blatantly disrespect me like that, I might as well do the same.

“I’m Stephen.”

I won’t need to know his name come tomorrow, but I can make sure he’s screaming mine tonight. “Finn.”

He’s got a mischievous glint in his eye as he leads me to a nearby motel. It’s only a few blocks away so we walk. I pay for the room in cash. We waste no time getting what we came here for, the alcohol in our systems lowering our inhibitions and doing away with all remnants of self-control.

I’m gone before the sun even starts to rise, leaving him alone in the room, tangled up in cheap motel bedsheets.

~

What have I fucking done? I’m the biggest hypocrite. After all that fighting with Josh, accusations of infidelity and betrayal, I turned around and did the one thing I swore I would never do to him. And there’s something else, gaps in my memory of the night, that my poisoned brain is filling in with even worse thoughts, things I can’t…

Josh will never forgive me. I can’t tell him; I have to keep this secret with me and hold it within my chest until it’s buried with me. I can’t keep living like this. I need help, real help, the kind that Josh can’t provide on his own. I can’t lose him.

When I pull into the driveway of his house, the sun’s just finding its place in the sky. I spot his suitcase, half unpacked and haphazardly tossed on the ground by the front door. The house is quiet, and I find him asleep in bed. He’s on his stomach, face hidden between the pillows, breathing softly. His shirt has ridden up a bit, and my breath hitches at the bruises on his side. I did that to him. I need to fix this.

I hate waking him and pulling him from the peaceful dreams he’s temporarily living in, but I fear it can’t wait. I gently nudge his shoulder until he groans, “Five more minutes, Jake.”

“Josh, it’s me.” I’m purposely trying to keep things as calm as possible, so my voice is almost a whisper.

He rolls over and opens his eyes, blinking sleepily as he works on waking up enough to register what’s happening. He sits up slowly, but he doesn’t shy away from my touch. That’s a good sign. “You’re back late. I thought you would be home yesterday.”

Home. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in some stuff and had to stay Sunday night. I, uh, I saw… did you go somewhere?”

He rubs his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I went to a music event with Ron in New York City. It was okay, a fancy dinner and mostly mingling with snooty theater people.” I believe him, and while I know anything could have realistically happened with any of those people, I feel the guilt wash over me again for doubting his loyalty. I don’t have any room to talk anyways.

“Josh, I fucked up again.” He sighs in disappointment and averts his gaze downward. “I know… it’s not fair that I keep putting this on you. I can’t explain why… I don’t want to do it anymore. I need… I need to go to rehab, and I need your help.”

When his eyes meet mind again, he looks hopeful. “You’ll actually go to rehab?”

“Yes. For you, I’ll do whatever I need to do. I can’t keep doing this to you.” I feel salty tears run down my cheeks and I hover my hand over his side, where I know the bruises are still there, hidden under his shirt now. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t apologize enough and I can never make up for all the shitty things I’ve done to you.”

He grabs my face and kisses me hard. He’s crying now, too. “I forgive you,” he says.

“How could you? I don’t deserve that, I don’t deserve you.”

“Easy. It’s ‘cause I love you. And your stupid face, remember?” He lets out a small laugh at his own words. “I’ll help you however I can. I’ll start looking for places today, and we can pick one out. Maybe go talk to them before you decide?”

I’m in utter disbelief that he still wants anything to do with me, more so that he’s willing to go out of his way to do this for me. I haven’t earned it. Maybe if he knew what happened in that motel room, he wouldn’t be so willing, but still, I can’t bring myself to tell him. “You’ll be there with me, to go talk to someone first?”

“Of course. I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

I’m terrified at the thought of being stuck in what is ultimately a glorified mental hospital. I dread the idea of being separated from Josh. I’m petrified of the thought of them using me as a test subject, putting me in restraints and stabbing me with needles for the fun of it. But mostly I’m afraid it won’t work. What happens if I complete a whole program, even pass with flying colors, just to be freed and still be broken? I don’t want to go back to that, and I can’t handle the possibility that I’ll only hurt him again.

“We can start looking later. Let’s just… rest for now.” His voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You wanna watch a movie with me until we both pass out?”

I manage a small smile and gently brush my knuckles against his cheek. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

I change clothes while he picks a movie, settling on an old Western comedy with Gene Wilder. Once under the covers, I get as close to him as I can; I just want to be near him and feel the warmth from his skin. He lets me lay my head on his chest. He’s stroking my hair and it’s strangely relaxing.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he whispers. And for a few brief moments, I think he might be right.

///

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[queenie-ofthe-void]

aaaaaand also Tiger Clubs for wip Weekend (again dynxgnxn ^v^)

Of course!!! I'm just gonna keep it going with where we're at.

This (long) snippet follows these previous posts: Part 1; Part 2;

Eddie's about to pull out his best wingman maneuvers in an attempt to save his friend from mortal anguish, when he’s interrupted by high-pitched screeches from the playground. “Auntie Robbie,” the twins cry in unison. It’d be creepy if they weren’t so goddamned adorable.  “My munchkins!” Her arms open wide as the kids crash into her, sending the three of them falling to the ground in a heap of limbs and laughter. “Oof! Alright let’s make sure you don’t take me out before I can get you twerps home.” He only knows of the twins from what Chrissy has told him this week, since she gets to see all of the incoming sixth graders, whereas Eddie teaches eighth grade. Reading with younger kids is great, don’t get him wrong, but the available range of literature for lesson planning only gets better with age. The curly-haired boy in the Minecraft t-shirt moves off the pile to pick up his Jurassic Park baseball hat, lost from tackling not-Steve/Auntie Robbie. He’s small, hyperactive as all hell, and is missing his front teeth– which Eddie can only tell because of the kid’s unbridled megawatt smile. If he's honest, the kid reminds him a bit of himself at that age. Although hopefully he's a better student than Eddie was throughout school, focusing on homework instead of band practice and selling illicit wares. While the boy raves about his school day, the young red headed girl rolls her eyes at his antics, but fondness underneath is easy to spot. Her hair has been braided into two plaits adorned with small butterfly clips, matching the fake butterfly tattoos on her left wrist. In contrast to her more girlish accessories, she’s wearing a grey Hawkin’s Hospital softball team shirt-- which has to be a men’s medium at the very least. It’s been tucked into her hot pink shorts, but it drowns her nonetheless. They’re the cutest kids he's ever seen.