#you're one of us now queue.

[monstersunderneath]

sender licks receivers blood off their thumb

🩸  ――――       SHE  WAS  EMBARRASSED  BY  ART  ONCE  AGAIN,  BESTING  HER  AND  RUBBING  IT  IN  HER  FACE  BY  ENJOYING  THE  BLOOD  HE  SPILLE  FROM  HER  PAINTED  ON  HIS  THUMB.  it  infuriated  sienna  to  a  point  where  her  rage  was  consuming  her  from  the  inside,  making  her  blood  boil,  and  her  limbs  quake  with  aggression.  she  vowed  from  the  moment  she  began  this  fight  with  @ourdyingwords  that  she  would  do  everything  in  her  power  to  defeat  him.  she  still  didn't  know  how  she  would  do  this  but  she'd  settle  for  causing  him  as  much  pain  as  possible.  she  stood  back  up  on  her  feet  and  spread  them  apart,  scowling  at  him,  and  squinting  her  eyes  in  anger.        “        you're  DISGUSTING        ”     she  yelled  at  him.  she  stepped  on  the  handle  of  a  shovel  that  laid  next  to  her  feet,  causing  it  to  prop  up  quickly  which  she  then  promptly  took  a  hold  of  and  slammed  the  metal  plate  against  art's  face.  she  wanted  to  see  him  bleed  too.  he  deserved  every  bit  of  pain  she  could  cause  him;  it  might  not  do  him  in  in  the  way  she  was  always  hoping  but  it  was  enough  to  make  her  feel  better.  he  was  an  evil,  soulless  thing  and  she  would  take  great  pleasure  in  causing  him  pain,  hoping  to  eventually  lead  him  to  his  death.  she  stood  above  him  and  knocked  him  again  in  the  face  with  his  shovel,        “      i  owe  you  pain.        ”

[monstersunderneath]

🩸  ――――         LAWRENCE  NEVER  THOUGHT  HE'D  SEE  THE  DAY  WHEN  HE  WOULD  SEE  ADAM  AGAIN  AFTER  THAT  DREADFUL  NIGHT.  every  day  since  his  miraculous  escape,  he  had  thought  about  what  he  was  forced  to  endure  and  the  victim  that  was  forced  to  do  the  same.  for  months,  in  the  beginning,  he  tried  his  hardest  to  not  think  about  it  and  attempt  to  leave  it  in  the  past,  but  the  more  he  fought  it,  the  more  it  began  to  consume  him,  and  before  he  could  really  come  head  to  head  with  his�� trauma,  john  had  scooped  him  up  and  seduced  him  into  the  way  of  life  that  is  jigsaw.  he  was  a  part  of  this  now,  and  he  saw  the  good  that  john  was  doing   —   in  his  own,  little  sadistic  way   —   and  lawrence  really  didn't  particularly  agree  with  his  methods,  but  he  did  this  because  he  owed  it  to  john.  now  he  owed  it  to  adam  to  help  him  find  some  peace.  even  though  they  have  only  spent  a  few  short  hours  with  each  other  in  their  lifetime,  adam  was  the  only  person  that  lawrence  could  relate  to;  the  only  person  that  could  possibly  understand  the  weight  of  their  shared  trauma.

HE  NODS  AT  HIS  WORDS,  PRESSING  HIS  LIPS  TOGETHER  GENTLY  AS  HE  LISTENS  TO  HIS  FRIEND.        ❛      i'm  sure,  i  wouldn't  doubt  it.  i  think  i'd  rather  stay  here.  i'm  glad  you  found  your  way  back,  though      ❜     he  responded,  offering  adam  a  half  -  hearted  smile.  he  looked  around  the  room,  seeing  everyone  was  beginning  to  flood  in  for  the  next  session  of  saw  victims  anonymous.  he  looks  back  at  adam,        ❛      that's  a  good  first  step,  adam.  i've  dealt  with  it,  too.  i  had  a  drinking  problem  for  a  while  after  it  all  first  went  down.  my  wife  couldn't  take  it  anymore  but,  here  i  am,  good  as  new      ❜     he  told  him,  lying  through  his  teeth.  sure,  he  didn't  lie  about  the  alcoholism  or  his  wife  leaving  him,  but  he  sure  as  hell  wasn't  good.  he  had  a  long  way  to  go  before  he  achieved  that  status.  he  nods,        ❛      they  have,  really.  it's  nice  to  know  that  there  are  other  people  out  there.  you're  not  alone   [   .  .  .  .   ]   are  you  going  to  share  tonight     ?     you  don't  have  to,  if  you  feel  you're  not  ready.     ❜

Adam wouldn't say he held any sort of resentment towards Lawrence for never seeing him once he dragged himself out of the bathroom, trying not to bleed to death. They had been strangers before it all, and had only spent six hours of their entire lives together. And that time together had been nothing short of a nightmare. He couldn't blame Larry for not wanting to have anything to do with that experience. And it wasn't like Adam had reached out to him, either, and given that Lawrence was a doctor and Adam was a shady photographer he was the easier one to find.

Of course he has no way of knowing that now Lawrence has access to all the same information that had been gathered about Adam before the bathroom.

"New York. That's where she lives. Never thought I'd stay in an apartment smaller than the one I had before, but New York's are borderline criminal."

The observation is made without an air of judgement but Adam is still a little embarrassed anyway. He knows he's a mess. Known for a long time. He had just hoped it wasn't so obvious at first glance. Maybe it's just the residual affects of drug withdrawal.

"I mean, I've been better. Obviously. But, you know, the fact that I can actually be sober now is a big improvement." Adam plays with a rogue thread from the sleeve of his shirt to keep his hands busy while he looks back at Lawrence. "How've you been doing? These meetings really helping you?"

[14dayswithyou]

That is all thank you

ANSWERED: Art credit for da first Ren meme goes to @meo-eiru!!

BUT HELPPPPP THESE ARE SO FUNNY JDSGJH T_T The Moth meme + Uno meme had me CACKLING lmaoooooooo

[squarerankinsigniasacramento]

SIGNAL BASED TIME TRAVEL: IF YOU HAVE MILITARY COMPUTERS THAT ENABLE YOU TO TRAVEL TO A FOREIGN PLANET AND DISGUISE YOURSELF AS A MEMBER OF THE CIVILIAN POPULATION, AN ILLEGAL SPY IN TERMS OF LAWS RELATED TO WAR, YOU CAN USE THOSE COMPUTERS TO SEARCH OUR COMPUTER NETWORK, WHICH WE CALL THE INTERNET. CAN YOU SAY IT WITH ME? IN TER NET. LET ME REALLY SLOW IT DOWN BECAUSE YOU SEEM TO BE HARD OF HEARING OR FUNCTIONALLY DEFICIENT IN TERMS OF COGNITION OR COMPREHENSION

In tur net

Iiiiiiiiiiiiin teeeeeeeer neeet

[tracle0]

Next - here Previous - here

[monstersunderneath]

🩸  ――――       ANDY  WAS  ELATED  TO  SEE  NICA  ONCE  AGAIN.  he  had  been  dreadfully  worried  about  her  well  being  with  chucky  stuck  inside  her  head  and  who  knows  what  kind  of  things  he's  been  whispering  to  her,  the  things  he's  more  than  likely  forcing  her  to  do  against  her  will.  he's  come  to  care  so  much  about  nica  and,  even  though  it  was  quite  difficult  for  him  to  ever  admit  it,  his  heart  has  grown  fond  of  her.  maybe  it  was  because  of  their  mutual  trauma  when  it  came  to  chucky  but  andy  liked  to  think  it  ran  deeper  than  that.  he  could  see  nica's  soul  through  her  eyes  when  she  spoke  of  how  much  she  wanted  to  be  rid  of  chucky  and  all  the  things  she's  come  to  regret.  she  was  good;  she  deserved  a  real  chance  at  life.  he  takes  a  small  swig  of  his  drink  as  he  listened  to  her,        “      of  course  i  do,  nica.  you  deserve  the  help   [   ....   ]        ”     he  told  her,  looking  into  her  eyes  deeply.           “       i   —   i  know  of  that  site.  i  can  look  more  into  it.  there's  gotta  be  something  on  there  that  can  tell  us  how  to  get  rid  of  that  little  fucker       ”    he  said,  determination  oozing  from  his  words.  he  downed  the  rest  of  his  drink  quickly  and  then  turns  in  his  stool  to  fully  face  her,        “      come  on,  lets  get  out  of  here.  we  can  go  back  to  my  place  and  look  it  up.  i  have  other  stuff  we  can  look  at  it  too   [   ....   ]        ”

she's happier, maybe happier than she could imagine. the fact that andy had missed her hadn't quite registered, but there was still something that she liked about it. she missed him, too. chucky hated it, && she knew it, but it was the only real thing that kept him quiet. keeping him quiet was so odd those days, taking a lot of time in order for her to get some sort of peace && quiet inside her own head. there wasn't a lot that she was able to keep to herself, including how she felt about andy. she && chucky made the others' lives miserable, but that was something that they'd managed to live with. that's fuckin' rich, kid, chucky comments. she realizes the smug words didn't hit the same way they usually did. was chucky losing his touch? no. she's just gotten used to those barbs over the years. its better than not having anything to really fall back on, when she got down to the meat of the situation. "i'm glad that you still want to help me," she admits, keeping her voice a little low as she tries to order her thoughts. there's another, slightly less mean chuckle from chucky and she rubs the back of her neck. "he'd mentioned something ... voodoofordummies.com or some shit like that. i think that's what he'd been using to do everything."

[monstersunderneath]

🩸 ―――― IT WAS A DARK NIGHT AT THE PIER OF SANTA CARLA AND IT WAS THE PERFECT NIGHT TO PREY AND FEED UPON THE LIVING. it was the murder capital of the world after all and it was his duty that he and his boys see to it that its reputation stay intact. he wouldn't go out without his vampire queen, though. he enters into the vampire's den and spots nessa sitting, enjoying the quiet. he comes up from behind her and places his hands over her eyes, smirking, “ guess who. and if you guess right, you might get a little gift [ .... ] ” he whispers in her ear and then nibbles on her earlobe gently. he was full of surprises tonight.

closed starter for @blndevmp.

[div-divington]

Federal Bureau of Control

--> the Research Sector

[lofe-arts]

To keep it humble, now lets look at one of my least favorites I drew for Funguary. I don't even think it's *bad* it's just that I don't like it. I was still trying new brushes, new styles, and It was just one of those days it isn't all coming together like you hope it will. It can be really discouraging when you find yourself in that position, but that's just how art is.

And, real talk? It makes looking back at my favorites even better. Because yeah I don't like this one and yeah I just wasnt able to execute the idea that was in my head to the standard I wanted, but it's not because i'm not capable and just a few images away in my Funguary folder is proof of that. Maybe sometimes I'm drawing like this, but it makes the times when I bust out the glowshroom even better.

This one cannot be bought on redbubble currently. If this somehow breaks containment and it turns out someone really wants this I'll be happy to put it up for you, but it didn't bring me joy, so it hasn't gone on the shelf yet.

[monstersunderneath]

🩸  ――――       PENNYWISE  ENJOYED  INFLICTING  PAIN,  SUFFERING,  AND  TERROR  INTO  ITS  VICTIMS  BEFORE  FEASTING  UPON  THEIR  FLESH.  it  made  them  taste  better,  giving  it  a  sense  of  seasoning  before  he  dined  on  them.  it  was  like  an  appetizer  for  IT.  when  pennywise  had  grabbed  the  girl's  face  and  invaded  her  mind  with  all  the  worst  horrors  and  fears  she's  experienced  in  her  life,  IT  noticed  a  man  made  of  blades  and  a  burned  face  that  could  scare  any  child;  something  that  nightmares  were  made  of.  this  interested  the  clown,  making  IT  smirk  widely  in  a  sinister  fashion.  IT  could  use  this;  IT  could  even  transform  into  this  figure  she's  been  running  away  from  and  hiding  for  so  long.  IT  could  tell  this  was  ITs  gateway  into  becoming  a  part  of  her.

PENNYWISE  FINALLY  LET  HER  GO  AND  STEPPED  BACK,  GETTING  ON  ALL  FOURS  AS  IT  STARED  AT  HER  FROM  BELOW.  ITs  eyes  began  to  glow  a  harsh  yellow  and  ITs  teeth  bared,  snarling  at  her.        “      ooo,  that's  what  you're  so  afraid  of,  little  girl     ?     you're  afraid  of  the  man  with  blades  as  fingers     ?     tell  me,  did  he   —   hurt  you     ?       ”     IT  asked  sinsiterly,  getting  up  and  suddenly  changing  visage;  wearing  the  same  guise  of  the  man  her  nightmares  were  made  of.  ITs  fingers,  which  were  known  the  same  blades,  reached  out  and  stroked  her  hair.        “      you'll  never  be  rid  of  me,  camilla   [   ....   ]       ”     even  ITs  voice  changed.

          her  unwavering  gaze  remaines  on  the  clown,   apprehensive  that  diverting  her  eyes  would  draw  it  nearer.   she  even  moves  backwards  a  few  strides  as  an  added  measure.   enough  to  instill  a  sense  of  safety  in  her,   enabling  her  to  escape  if  given  the  chance.   she  felt  an  increasing  surge  of  foolishness  for  consenting  to  the  senseless  dare  now  that  she  could  get  a  clearer  sight  of  it's  painted  face  and  experiences  the  chilling,  bone - rattling  sinister  laugh  that  shook  her  to  her  very  core,   sending  an  icy  shiver  running  up  her  spine.   

           " Um,  you're  welcome?      --      I  don't  know...    Maybe  a  taco. "    she  moves  forward  by  half  a  step  as  the  clown  vanishes  behind  the  rock  it  had  been  occupying,   driven  by  curiosity  to  uncover  the  clown's  intentions  behind  it.   the  frigit  sensation  that  coursed  up  her  spine  sends  another  jolt  through  her  as  she  momentarily  closes  her  eyes  and  breathes  in  deeply,   her  feet  slowly  pivoting  until  eyes  flutter  open  again  to  settle  on  the  transformed  figure.   she  suddenly  becames  immobilized,   entering  a  trance  as  a  multitude  of  fears  began  infiltrating  her  thoughts,   surrendering  her  to  relive  the  horrors  inflicted  by  the  man  with  blades  as  fingers  who  haunts  her  dreams  once  more.

[doodlingwren]

Aughhghghh still busy <3 sorry for the late replies to comments and such lol bye <33333

[teaboot]

Okay so like. You know your own name as a kid, right?

You remember how it sounds, how your parents say it, how your friends say it- you learn how to spell it, and maybe even what it means and why it was given to you, and it's yours.

It's not a tangible, physical thing, like your hair or your fingernails, but it's yours. It belongs to you.

So, like. Imagine there comes a point in life where everyone gets their name tattooed to their forehead, or something.

Could be when they're two. Could be when they're twenty. Hell, it could be when they're eighty, or ninety-nine, or whenever. But it's everybody, and it's inevitable, and it happens.

Now imagine the time comes for you, and you get up after and look in the mirror and realize they spelled it wrong.

And you have to go outside and live your life in a world where everybody is so totally used to knowing people's names on sight that not a single person second-guesses that your parents named you Susam, or Ahley, or Benjabib.

And you know it's wrong, every time you hear it, but you can choose to explain every single time- every time you're called in a coffee queue, every time a teacher picks you in class, every time you meet a new person or bump into a stranger or are greeted on the street, by children and employers and door-to-door salesmen and your fucking waitress- or you can kind of just learn to grit your teeth and ignore it.

You still notice, of course- maybe you learn to accept it, maybe you hate it every time, but whether you do anything about it or not, you still know. You know people have the wrong word for you in your head.

You know they still mean YOU, but it's not you.

So what's your solution?

Do you shrug, decide it doesn't matter, and go about your life?

Do you smear the typo over with foundation, pencil in new letters every morning?

Do you stare into the mirror sometimes and think, "wow, I should really get that fixed"?

Maybe you save up your money and get it removed, or covered up, or changed to something else. Maybe the whole damn thing was wrong, and you've been a Jacob running around as a Hailey this whole damn time.

That's the best way to explain it. It's not an easily-provable thing, or a demonstrable thing, or a feeling I can one-for-one substitute as something else-

but that's what it's like to know you're not a girl.

[siriuslylantsov]

juno

pairing: spencer reid x college!reader

description: in which spencer gets a little worked up when the two of you dance so when you get home a few hours later, you make it up to him.

tags: MDNI! smut, fluff, alcohol consumption, established relationship, tiny age gap (reader is 23 and spencer is 27), fem!reader, softdom!spencer but also a little sub, switch!reader, spencer gets a boner at a party lol, nipple stuff, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv, brief finger sucking, dirty talk (gasp), praise kink, munch!spencer (my fav), nicknames used (angel, baby, sweet girl, etc.), little bit of overstim, reader isnt inebriated during it (hazy initially) but she sobers up quick, lmk if im missing anything.

a/n: to add on to the influx of sabrina carpenter song inspired fics, here is juno. i went through a rigorous process of deciding which spencer era i wanted for this and settled on s4 spence. my first smut, this was awful and fucking exhausting to write, idk how you smut writers do it but we got through it. hope you like it...

wc: 4.2k

the room is dimly lit, candles scattered on every flat surface– this is a fire hazard, calm down spence. there's a steady buzz of conversation that passes through the room, just enough people that it isn't overcrowded nor is it too sparse, it’s a stark contrast to the other parties—loud, sweaty and cramped—that have been springing up as the semester draws to a close. the pros of having an invite-only party, you think. 

the dress code, though not formally stated, is dark and moody. god knows what that means–just wear something black and make sure it's sexy. so there you are, in a mini skirt, an off shoulder black top with sleeves that end at your knuckles, knee high boots, and a pair of sheer tights. 

spencers in a black button up and matching dress pants. he looks good, really fucking good. his hair slicked back in a way you can only describe as prince charming and eyes somehow sparkling in the low light. you have to kiss him. you peck his jaw in admiration and he shoots you a puzzled but sweet smile. 

your arm is tucked snuggly in your boyfriend’s as you talk to a guy from one of your classes. spencer knows your crowd, so you don't feel too bad when you leave him to go help the host, your friend vanessa, in the kitchen. she's mixing drinks when you get to her.

“good turn out huh?” she says, handing you a bottle to open.

“oh yeah, ness, definitely. one of my favourites so far, too,” you commend, unscrewing the top and giving it back to her.

she pours the contents into a pitcher, “thanks.” 

“but you know… what could make it better…” your tone nothing short of subtle, your eyes glinting with persuasion.

she lets out a huff. “you spend an hour without normal music and you're suffering,” she teases you all while expertly pouring margaritas into red cups.

“hey! i love your-” you pause, trying to find the right words, “nondescript jazz but.. i love sabrina carpenter a bit more.” 

you throw her your best puppy dog eyes and she concedes. “fine. my phone is on the table. you can play whatever you want if,” she bargains, holding out a tray of drinks, “you take these.” you squeal and accept her offer.

“you're a darling,” you call out from over your shoulder as you walk away.

“uh-huh,” she says sarcastically, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “don't spill!”

you put the tray down on the coffee table upon your return, grabbing vanessa's phone before settling next to spencer, who is now on the couch. the guy from your class is gone. you frantically scroll through the playlist, adding things to the queue. spencer puts his arm over your shoulders as he peers over at the screen. he's used to your antics, so he doesnt question the fact that it isn't even your phone, humming in approval when you add a song that he likes. the music starts playing at a comfortable volume from the speakers and you lean into spencer's side, quietly murmuring along, “all i can do is try, give me one chance…”

at some point, a makeshift dance floor forms. clusters of people belting the lyrics, and swaying to the rhythm. you join them, always down for an impromptu dance sesh–or at least that's what the cup in your hand suggests. spencer watches you intently from the couch, eyebrows raised in amusement as you wave your hands around expressively with the words. he loves when you sing. his eyes trace the way your skirt hugs your hips, and how your hips, in turn, move in sync with the beat. he’s mesmerised by you. 

a few songs in, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin. there’s no doubt you’re a dancing drunk. as if on cue—well, it was—'juno' starts playing, and you scan the room for spencer. you spot him in the corner, serving food onto his plate.

you rush over to him, recalling how he validated the song choice earlier. you’d played it to him for the first time a few weeks ago and he went on to explain how in roman mythology, juno is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage and children, similar to hera in greek mythology, and consequently, you told him about the 2007 film ‘juno’ and promised you'd introduce him to the world of michael cera, and that his life will forever be changed, when he said he hadn't seen it.

“mmph what?” he grumbles, a mouthful of egg roll muffling his words, as you pull him by the arm. you take the plate from his hand, putting it down on the coffee table and leading him into the crowd. 

you hold onto both his hands and move them between you two as you sing. 

“give it to me baby, you make me wanna make you fall in love.”

he smiles, trying to follow your movements and failing. you giggle at his attempts. 

“can't help myself hormones are high.”

you turn around and wrap his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. you try to lead him this way and he seems to catch on, moving his hips with you, it's a little stiff but it's a happy medium.

“oh late at night i’m thinkin’ ‘bout you, ah. wanna try out some freaky positions?” 

you aren't trying to drive him crazy, but the alcohol is. “have you ever tried this one?” you glance behind at him when you say this, pushing your ass back against his crotch, the feeling not lost between the layers of fabric.

you feel him tense behind you, but you don’t think much of it, assuming he felt awkward about dancing in front of people. you spin around in his arms, smiling happily, with not a hint of malice in your eyes. you’re not even teasing him—just giving in to an incorrigible need to perform, fucking theatre kids. 

he tries to play it cool but then the bridge arrives, and god save him.

“adore me,” you guide his hands to your hips. “hold me and explore me,” you lead them slowly up your body, gliding over your ribs, “mark your territory,” you press his hands firmly into your sides. you let go and loop your hands around his neck, rolling your shoulders, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one.”

you trail your hands down his chest as the verse repeats. you go lower till you drop to your knees in front of him, and he thinks he might die. 

“i’m so fucking horny,” no youre not, “tell me i'm the only, only, only, only one,” you are, everything.

you spring back up on your feet and start jumping, guiding him to dance with you or something to that degree. frankly, he's disoriented, your mood gone as quick as it arrived, as he tries to keep up. when, in fact, everything you just did went straight between his legs. a nervous flush spreads across his face as he feels the growing tightness in his pants, and you, oblivious to the effect you had on him–but only because you were drunk you swear– nudge his nose with yours in an attempt to calm him down. he gives you a tight lipped smile, classic spencer, and excuses himself to the bathroom, to splash water on his face or to jerk off, he doesn't know.

the party comes to a screeching halt an hour later when someone throws up on vanessa's couch and she kicks everyone out, swearing that she's never hosting at her place ever again.

you're a giggling fit as you walk down the, fairly empty, street. spencer follows close behind, a small smile playing on his face as he watches you spin. his coat hangs loosely on your shoulders–his coat and not yours because you insisted you wouldn't need one, but when the breeze hit your legs, you were sorely mistaken. he catches up with you and laces your hands together, your head lands on his shoulder now that you're all tuckered out.

after a quick subway ride the two of you make it to his apartment, having previously agreed that you'd spend the night there since you don't have any classes tomorrow. he slowly leads a tipsy you up the stairs and unlocks his door, letting you in. 

you let his coat drop to the floor as he leads you to his room, he sits you at the edge of the bed before crouching down to unzip your boots and take them off. he pulls at the waistband of your skirt, asking.

“spencer walter reid, are you trying to get in my pants?” you ask quietly, the tiredness in your voice evident as you try to tease him.

“yes,” he says with a mock seriousness that makes you laugh a little. “lift your hips angel.”

you oblige and he pulls your skirt and tights off in one go, stretching comically as the long piece of fabric peels away, in a way that only his long limbs would allow. he leans down and kisses up your shin to your knee, doing the same to your other leg, murmuring a “perfect girl,” into your skin before standing up. he makes you blush, always does. 

he walks over to his dresser to grab the pair of pyjamas you left at his place the last time you were over. he comes back with your shorts, but instead of the matching piece, he’s holding one of his t-shirts. 

“arms up please” he requests and you do, he slips your top off and offers you his hand so you can stand. 

you feel a little exposed, clad in only your bra and underwear, though he's seen you in less on multiple occasions. he bends to help you put on the bottoms. “i can dress myself, y'know?” you say, in spite of the fact that you're holding onto his shoulders as you step into the shorts. he only hums as he slides them up, tying the strings into a bow. he reaches behind you to undo the clasp, letting your bra fall. he shamelessly looks at your tits before he puts the shirt on. you shake your head minutely, amused. 

“come on,” he nudges you toward the bathroom.

you lazily brush your teeth, take your makeup off and flop onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, sinking into the pillows behind you. pillows that have accumulated over time since you started dating spencer, you had insisted a pile was the way to go and he indulged you even though most would end up on the floor in the morning–it's decorative, spence, and comfortable. 

you see spencer changing in your peripheral and sit up. you ogle him as he unbuttons his shirt. he smirks when he notices your eyes on him.

“you enjoying the show?” he probes, eyes squinting slightly.

you bite your lip coyly and nod. “mhm, very much.” you throw your duvet off lightly and step out of bed, crossing over to him. “let me help?” you ask quietly.

he lets go of his shirt and raises his palms up in surrender, letting you do it.

“i mean it's only fair, i showed you mine so you should show me yours,” you say, trailing a finger down his chest to continue unbuttoning. 

his hands find your waist and pull you closer. “oh, is that how it is?”

“afraid so, doctor reid,” you say with a shrug, sneaking your hands under the fabric to push the shirt off his shoulders. you reach down and make work on his belt buckle, trying to fight back a smile because he just makes you so… 

you slide his belt off and unbutton his pants, and sure, you can let him do the rest but what's the fun in that. so for the second time that night you get on your knees, and it hits spencer like a freight train. his breath catches as you pull his pants down. you’re about to get up when you're brought face to face with the very noticeable bulge in his underwear and you freeze.

“spencer,” he pulls you up, a little embarrassed. “you're hard,” you state, looking up at him with a crease in your eyebrow that formed in confusion.

he only sighs in response.

“please tell me that this,” you wave your hand over the clothes that were now on the floor, “didn't get you going.” 

“oh, angel no,” he lets out a low chuckle. “it’s from earlier.”

“earlier?”

“yeah uhm juno…” he says shyly.

you frown “jun- oh.”

“yup”

“oh god. oh god. spence, that's so much worse,” you deflate in realisation.

“why's that worse?”

“that was hours ago,” you say morosely, your frown returning in full force.

he laughs at your concern. “hey, i was fine, i'm a big boy,” he lies through his teeth. he wasn't fine. his trip to the bathroom lasted 15 minutes and consisted of him sitting on the closed toilet to calm down and ended when someone started banging the door for him to come out.  

you pout, feeling bad. “you should've told me.”

“yeah and then what? you would've let me take you over the coffee table,” he reasons but it only makes you flush.

“no, but we could’ve left early.” 

“yeah maybe.”

your head snaps up to meet his, eyes glinting with hope. “i could make it up to you?”

his face softens, “you don't have to do that.”

“yes i do, i want to,” you lay a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

“you’re tired,” he argues, not wanting to give in, and kisses your wrist.

“no, i'm not,” he looks at you sceptically, “i'm not. i'm actually extremely awake right now,” you defend. “and what's that thing you said? orgasms release oxytocin” you punctuate this by tiptoeing to kiss his jaw, “and uhm.. prolactin,” another but this time on his chin, “and endorphins” on the corner of his mouth, “and, oh, serotonin.” you end with a fleeting kiss on his lips and he smiles against them, gotcha. “all which promote levels of drowsiness and relaxation-” you quote, in a very poor impression of him, making him chuckle and pull you in for another kiss, promptly cutting you off. 

his hands at your waist tug you closer, bringing your hips flush together. the action causes a little bit of friction to his erection and he whimpers into your mouth. you trail your hand down and palm him. he pushes forward into your hand.

“so needy,” you chide, leaning your head back to look at him.

“don't tease,” he whines.

god you love it when he whines, and that's very apparent by the dampness you feel between your legs. “‘m sorry, baby,” you say lightly, leading him back to the bed.

you lay back on the pillows and part your legs so he can settle between them. “come here,” you whisper and he leans forward. you cup his face with your hands and close the distance between your faces. he kisses you back so profoundly, it knocks the wind out of you. you gently bite his bottom lip and the gasp he lets out, allows you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

you feel his hand snake up your shirt, fingers grazing over your ribs, pressing firmly into your sides and you realise, he's mirroring what you did with his hands at the party. his thumb passes over your nipple, barely. you arch your back in response, wanting more.

“so needy,” he repeats.

“shut up,” you mumble, pulling him closer.

he lets out a huff and takes this as his sign to grind his hips into yours. you hum at the feeling, grabbing at his shoulders to keep going but he stops and you whine. 

“you just have too much on, sweet girl,” he apologises, lifting the hem of your–his–shirt. he quickly sheds it and your shorts before returning to his previous position. now both of you are left in your underwear, and you think it's sweet, you don't know why. he resumes his motions, the friction now heightened with one less piece of fabric. 

you're breathless as his lips latch onto your neck, peppering small kisses down the side, pausing briefly to suck a mark into your skin and then moving lower. your collarbone, sternum, down the valley of your breasts. he hooks an arm under you to hold you close while his lips move to your nipple, taking the right one into his mouth and sucking. he softly pinches it between his teeth and you keen, tangling your hand in his hair. he experimentally bites down harder and your grip on his strands tightens, causing him to groan against your chest. he moves over to the neglected one and repeats, making sure you're well attended to. he stays like that till you're squirming.

he starts kissing lower, over your stomach. he hooks a finger in your underwear, you put your hand over his. “i'm supposed to be taking care of you,” you whisper, the moment so intimate you're afraid to speak any louder.

“believe me, you are,” he says, matching your volume, pulling the fabric down and off your legs.

“spencer,” you drag out.

he lays down between your thighs and presses a kiss to the flesh there. “let me do this, please. wanna get you ready.” he implores, eyes big and pleading as they meet yours. when he looks like that, how do you say no. you chew your lip as you pretend to mull it over and he grows impatient, prodding at your thigh. you smile at his fidgeting and give him a curt nod–okay, if you insist.

he dives in without missing a beat, licking a long stripe between your folds. your hips writhe instinctively so he threads an arm under your thigh and over your abdomen to hold you down. 

“oh fuck,” you gasp as his lips attach to you clit, sucking profusely. your hand finds his hair again, in need of something to hold onto, and he doesn't mind the pulling seeing as he starts to dry hump the mattress.

his free hand moves to join his mouth, fingers circling and poking at your entrance. he hums out a question to which you nod feverishly, “yes, please.” 

he inserts both fingers at once, the sudden stretch causing you to jolt, a pained moan slipping out. he pulls away, fingers still inside. 

“okay?” he asks gently, though he knows the answer.

“mhm, spencer keep going,” you breathe out, raising your hips up to make him move.

he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “please,” you add, the desperation laced in your voice not lost on you.

he smiles, pleased, “anything for you angel.”

spencer eats you out like a man starved, greedily, and that paired with his fingers–you're done for. he curls his fingers, dragging out slowly and you clench around him, moaning.

“right there huh?” he coos.

he doesn't need reassurance, knowing your body like the back of his hand but you let out a quiet “yes” in response regardless.

he’s relentless in his pace, pumping his fingers and licking over your clit incessantly. you feel it, the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. you tug his hair in warning and he hums against you, the vibration making you shiver. he speeds up, replacing his tongue with his thumb. you buck up, meeting his thrusts

“there you go, fuck yourself on my fingers. so good for me, fuck.” he mutters out praises as he hovers over you again, his lewdness makes you whine. it always throws you off when spencer swears, much less when he talks like that, but you're not complaining.

“spence-”

“you gonna cum for me? cum all over my fingers?” he says against your cheek, dotting your face with delicate pecks. the gentleness of the action compared to what he was doing to you made you dizzy.

you babble out an incoherent confirmation as you grasp at his shoulder, no doubt leaving behind crescent shaped indents. he mouths at your neck and encourages you. “i’m right here. you're doing so good, let go angel.”

You fall apart with a broken sob, back arching off the bed. his hand chases the movements of your hips while you hold him tightly. his hand slows as he feels you calm down. he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, humming contentedly at the taste. You quickly pull them out, your nose scrunched.

“i hate when you do that,” you whisper, a little dazy.

“no, you don't,” he says with a smile, dipping down to kiss you. “you good?”

you can taste yourself on his lips, “yeah,” you reply bashfully. 

“think you can handle another?” 

you nod and you watch as he takes his boxers off. he situates himself between your legs, parting them a bit more before he drags his tip between your folds a few times. you whimper at the stimulation. his eyebrows furrow in thought.

“you wanna try something?”

“yeah? what'd you have in mind?”

“could you turn around and get on your knees?” he asks tentatively, eye darting between yours for any traces of discomfort.

there is none, just a hint of confusion as you position yourself the way he wants. he comes up behind you and guides your hips back to meet his. with one hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer so your back is flush to his chest. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck. he nibbles your earlobe and leans in.

“have you ever tried this one?” he says quietly, attempting to be serious but the smile on his face betrays him.

you groan, “ugh, you're so corny,” you cover your face with your hand, using the other one to slap his thigh. he laughs, a short breathy chuckle that you feel at the back of your neck. you lean your head back on his shoulder, “just fuck me.”

he huffs, something between a laugh and a groan. he pushes into you slowly and you moan in unison. you're quick to loop your hand behind his head as he builds a steady pace. the angle is excruciating, hitting your g spot with every draw back of his hips. you clench around him and he sighs into your neck, biting lightly. you grab one of his hands at your side and wrap it around you. your head turns toward his, pressing your cheek into his nose. it isn't enough. 

“baby,” you gasp at a particularly hard thrust of his.

he knows. “i know. i know. need to see you,” his voice is hoarse as he turns you around and lays you on your back.

he wastes no time in entering you again, burying his face in your neck as he does so. its slow and deep and you can feel all of him.

“fuck, angel. you feel so good,” he whimpers, speeding up.

“yeah? you feel amazing in me, beautiful boy.”

the sentiment makes him whine whorishly, beautiful boy. you caress the back of his neck as he ruts into you. he pulls his head up and lays his forehead on yours, gasping quietly. you stick your chin up and he kisses you, soft and messy and breathless, as the two of you steal eachother’s oxygen. you break away and glance down at where your bodies meet, his eyes follow yours.

“look at you, taking me so perfectly,” his praises go straight to your core, driving you closer. he can tell by the way your walls flutter, he trails his hand down and rubs your clit in tight circles. your nonsensical sobs of please and so close are heard by him as he drives into you deeper and harder. “me too, angel girl. i've got you, wanna feel you come on my cock,” he nudges you, words strained as he chases his own release.

your second orgasm crashes into you and like dominoes, his one follows. he comes in you with a shuddering cry. the aftershocks leave you twitching as spencer lazily fucks into you, selfishly. you squirm at the overstimulation and he stills his hips.

“good girl, you did so well for me,” he coos, pushing a piece of hair out of your face. your hum of appreciation turns into a sound of protest as he tries to move.

“wait, stay like this a bit…” you trail off, pulling him onto you, keeping him in you.

he indulges you for a while, he'll get up in a minute, knowing if he doesn't you'll complain about the stickiness and blame him. for now though, he tucks both his arms under you and nestles his head on your chest. he feels you laugh under him and he sticks his head up, expression on his face quizzical.

“i didn't think that me dancing would get you going so much,” you tease, though your eyes are filled with something akin to awe as you look at him.

he laughs too, “oh you have no idea.”

m.list

[monstersunderneath]

🩸  ――――       DAVID  ALWAYS  LOVED  SANTA  CARLA.  so  many  tasty  mortals  to  eat  that  walked  around  and  practically  begged  for  one  of  his  boys  to  snatch  them  up.  they  all  knew  about  the  dangers  at  night  because  of  the  consisent  missing  persons  reports  and  yet  they  still  bared  their  necks  for  all  the  vampires  to  see  and  fantasize  about.  it  seemed  like  this  raven  haired  woman  followed  in  their  footsteps  which  only  made  david  even  more  elated  to  get  into  something  reckless  with  her.  she  radiated  energy  that  screamed  wild  and  aggressive.  maybe  it  was  the  way  she  moved  her  body  before  he  approached  or  maybe  it  was  the  way  she  leaned  back  onto  him  and  practically  invited  his  sinister  energy.  she  wasn't  like  the  other  girls;  she  was  different  and  he  was  already  obsessed.

HE  SMIRKED  AT  HER  WORDS,  PLAYFULLY  PLACING  HIS  HANDS  ON  HER  HIPS  ONCE  SHE  TURNS  AROUND  FULLY  TO  FACE  HIM.        “      you're  definitely  not.  you're  somewhere  a  hell  of  a  lot  more  fun       ”     he  started,  his  smirk  never  fading  from  his  lips.  oh,  she  didn't  have  to  say  that  her  blood  was  pumping;  he  could  hear  her  heart  pounding  in  his  ears  and  he  could  see  her  prominent  veins  pulsating  on  her  neck.  the  heat  coming  off  of  her  practically  had  him  wanting  to  pant  like  a  dog.  damn,  this  girl  already  has  him  in  a  chokehold.        “       i  think  i'm  going  to  show  you  just  how  fun  this  place  is   —        ”     he  told  her  and  proceeded  to  grab  her  by  the  waist  to  pull  against  his  body  close.

HE  WAS  PROBABLY  BEING  A  LITTLE  TOO  FORWARD  BUT  DAVID  HAS  ALWAYS  BEEN  THE  KIND  OF  GUY  THAT  IF  HE  WANTED  SOMETHING   —   HE  WAS  GOING  TO  GET  IT,  NO  MATTER  THE  COST.  he  danced  against  her  body,  feeling  the  way  she  was  swaying  with  the  music  and  how  her  heart  was  pounding  against  his  chest.  the  closeness  between  them  both  only  made  him  want  her  more  than  before,  if  that  was  even  possible.  his  hand  moves  up  to  move  her  hair  from  her  neck,  staring  at  her  veins  with  lust,  his  mouth  beginning  to  water.         “       i  gotta  know  your  name   —        ”     he  whispered  to  her,  leaning  back  to  look  into  her  dark  eyes.  

In the crackling light of a beachside bonfire, 'barely legal' looked 'close enough' for most people. It wasn't like Faith was doing anything untoward anyhow- dancing wasn't a crime. Drinking beer probably was, but no one was paying attention on Halloween night in Santa Carla. And from what the young Slayer had heard, most demons and vamps took the night off anyways.

It wasn't Boston, but Faith could make things work out here. The boardwalk was pretty wicked, and her Watcher had suggested a stop in the small California town for a reason. What that reason was, she wasn't paying attention- maybe stocking up on weapons? Some ancient artifacts? And there was always something to slay the other 364 days a year.

She wore a Dorothy Gale dress that was a little small in the chest, comfortably teasing the boys around her as she danced. Gingham did a girl some good. Yeah, sure, a wholesome movie heroine wasn't super sexy in some respects, but it was never about turning heads with the costume. No matter what she wore, Faith attracted guys all the same- like the bleach blonde 'bloodsucker' here. Oh, it was almost too perfect.

Faith felt him leaning in from behind and she slowed her rhythmic dance, craning her neck for a better look. He was cute- wicked suave in the warm light of the fire. Even with the Dracula getup. "Well now. I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore. Lucky for you, all this dancing's got my blood pumping. So, whatcha gonna do about it, big boy?"

[i-am-the-balancing-point]

Prep List

Standard ISO shipping container Air -Filtration System/Exchanger Food -1100 MREs (3 Years worth + 5 emergency) -500 Canned Non Perishables Water -4 X 16 Gallon Rain Barrels -2 X 2 Gallon Gravity Fed Water Filter Warmth -8 Lamps. 20 Gallons of Kerosene. 2000 matchsticks. -Heavy Duty Clothing First Aid/Hygiene -3 Year Supply of Kits Energy -2 Years Worth of All Battery Types -LED Flashlights Weapons/Tools -Machete, Firearm + Cleaning Solvents and Oils

A note, found at Fall’s End Garage. ❇︎ Notes of Hope County

[monstersunderneath]

🩸 ―――― PENNYWISE COULDN'T TAKE HIS GLOWING GOLDEN EYES OFF OF THE BOY. drool was beginning to drip dowm slowly from the corners of its' mouth, feeling more and more hungry as the seconds go by that were consumed by the thoughts of what this boy's flesh would taste like; stuck in its' teeth, blood quenching its' thirst [ .... ] IT had to play this smart, though. IT couldn't jump out and attack the boy ---- IT had to lure him into his trap. IT giggled a little, still staying hidden in the shadows of the forestry, “ oh, there was a big storm and it blew me and the whooole circus away. now i'm lost and being lost makes pennywise sad [ .... ] oh, i have an idea, a great big idea ” IT clapped its' hands in glee and giggled some more. “ why don't you help pennywise find the circus ? there'll be candy and popcorn and baby animals for you to play with. doesn't that sound nice, little boy ? ”

The hot summer sun seemed to shine down on the small town of Derry Maine in the year of 1988. The Brunette teen seemed to be in his own little world as he followed down the trail in the foresty area. As if he was lost in thought on something.. He was then brought back to reality as he heard the clown speak from the Bush. Avery turned his head over his shoulder back to the clown. He found it rather odd that a clown was in a bush in the middle of the woods. "Hello?... And no.." He spoke in a rather confused flat tone. "I'm just passing through..." He was smart enough to keep his distance from the Bush and the clown. "Why are you in the middle of the woods?.. Rather off place for a clown to be..." He asked.