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theficplug · 1 year

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Chef's Kiss

Carmy & Reader attend his sister's Halloween themed/ costume party.

Carmen Berzatto x Black Reader

[This was supposed to be posted for Halloween. So sorry babes your girl was going through it. But I hope that you still enjoy it all the same.]

18+ smut towards the end so please minors dni. go here instead

unedited.

Going out to party on a Saturday night when he could be at home in bed with you or going out to a drive-in movie with you was not Carmy’s favourite thing, but somehow you convinced him to attend Natalie’s adult costume party and dress up.

Asking him while he was in a good mood because The Bear received 4 and a half star rating and making chocolate chip pancakes for the both of you was the key.

You both decided to go as Linguini & Colette Tatou from Ratatouille and you couldn’t be more excited to actually get out of the house and away from work for once.

You couldn’t remember the last time that you two did something just for the fun of it because you both have been swamped in deadlines and projects and just not enough of each other for your liking.

He pulled together his costume from an old culinary school uniform from his closet complete with the hat and you ordered a sexier version of a chef uniform and a bob wig to complete your version of the Colette look.

You pull down the hem of the dress to fully cover your butt as you step out of the car and grab the bag from the floor.

The nerves were also kicking in once you realised that you were going to be around the majority of Carmen’s family and a few family friends from his childhood for the first time.

You were both standing outside your car in front of Natalie and her husband Pete’s home putting the finishing touches on your costumes.

"You would look so good as a ginger! You gotta say the rat-patootie line for me at least once tonight." You say to him, spraying the last of the orange spray onto his mousy brown locks to complete the look now so that it wouldn’t stain everything at home.

He was holding the little plush Remy toy in one hand and toying with the engagement ring on your left hand with the other.

He sighed and shook his head no before you gave him a small “please?” .

“You know you want to.” you urge him to say the line with a small pout and he starts moving his hands animatedly.

“HEY. Why do they call it that? RATATOUILLE. It’s like a stew, right? Why do they call it THAT? If you’re going to name a food, you should give it a name that’s going to sound DELICIOUS. Ratatouille doesn’t sound delicious. It sounds like rat and PATOOTIE. RAT PATOOTIE. Which does not sound delicious.” Carmen recites, sounding exactly like a drunk Linguini and you fall into him , laughing at how he’s mimicking the character.

"Perfection babe, literal perfection." You say to him still laughing at the things your fiancé does just to see you smile.

Mumbling a little "thank you baby" with a small smile as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"Can you see my lace?" You question and he's already well trained to know what you're referring to.

He tilts your head down to get a closer look and shakes his head, placing a kiss to the top of your own.

Carmy places his hands on the sides of your face and his eyes piercing into you made you feel like he only ever saw you and nothing else.

“What are you looking at?” you ask with a small smile and he shakes his head, kind of like he’s breaking himself out of his daze.

"You’re so pretty baby. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Can I have a kiss?" He asks, pouting his lips slightly for you to kiss him.

"You're so corny you know that?" you tease. “Love you.” You manage to say against his lips.

"That's true but you didn't say that last night when I was hitting it from the back. I believe your exact words were "yes chef, yes”, but you know I could be wrong. I kind of lose my train of thought when I’m in it. ” He teases.

Richie steps out of the backseat dressed as Shaggy from Scooby Doo with an “Alright, alright , alright. You two gonna help me with the piñata or am I going to have to suffer through a replay of what happened? Cousin, you better have washed that goddamn spatula”.

“You heard that ? When are you and Tiff going to make up because you’ve been on our pull out for like a week now.” You fire back and Richie raises his hands in defeat as Carmy laughs and grabs some extra bags of candy for the piñata and you grab the drinks from the backseat.

The three of you make your way to the doorbell and Natalie, who's dressed full on as Margot Robbie’s version of Barbie, instantly lights up as she wraps her arms around your shoulders.

Her husband Pete steps beside her fully dressed as Ken and greets the 3 of you with a small wave and a polite smile.

“My girl! You convinced him to come and dress up? What kind of superpowers do you have?” She asks jokingly while giving your shoulders a soft squeeze.

“Sugar, good to see you. We brought uh actual Ratatouille, a piñata , and Richie has a few cases of beer. ” Carmy greets her with a side hug and a nod after she finally lets you go.

“Richie.” She says dryly as she glances over his shoulder and sees him smiling in the background holding up a case of beer and the piñata.

“Nat. Where do you want these?” Richie asks, referring to the cases of beer in his hands and ignoring the air of awkwardness.

You look between the two choosing to make a mental note of what happened there for when you and Carmen are in bed later.

“You really went all out. Sis, you’ve already won “best party” already for this year. Look at this!” You say to her looking at the life-sized spiders, punch with eyeballs in it, and all of the other realistic decorations scattered across the rooms. The kitchen even had a fog machine going creating a spooky atmosphere.

Everyone dressed according to the theme and went all out with their costumes and looks ranging from scary to cute to “okay, that was a choice”.

In the last 15 minutes you’ve seen everything from Kill Bill to Carrie to Charlie's Angels, and currently you were watching Barbie be whisked away by Mavis from Hotel Transylvania.

After you made your rounds greeting new members from his family it was time to play a few games.

You and Carmy were absolutely crushing it at the “Guess The Horror Movie” game and ended up winning a new blender and a Keurig but you two were still going.

“Baby- Babe, listen to me, focus, come on! I really want that Target gift card. Ooonne twooo-'' You sing to him trying to give him a clue of the movie and he’s shaking his head.

“And that’s time! The correct answer is Freddie Kreuger, Nightmare on Elm Street.” his cousin Erin answers, dressed as Mavis from Hotel Transylvania and her husband dressed as Johnny wins the gift card instead.

“Sorry baby! I don’t know why I got stuck on Friday The 13th for some reason. Next time, I promise.” Carmy apologises and places a kiss on your temple.

“Next time I want you on my team, daughter because I could’ve used that Sephora gift card that was given away earlier.” Carmen’s mother, who’s dressed as Scarlet Witch says to you.

"Oh boys vs girls vs theys next round. We're about to rack up, mother in law!" You say competitively and you both clap hands in agreement.

At some point the two of you are separated and you are locked into a conversation with nearly everyone he knows and all of Natalie’s friends.

They were trying to figure out everything from how you two met, who’s invited to the wedding, and in the process you were both invited to countless holiday parties.

“He has not been to a family event in what- 3 years. He hung around Michael like a shadow. Never brought a girl home. Hell, I thought that maybe he was gay. Nothing wrong with that but all of a sudden little miss sunshine comes out of nowhere and he’s full of life? And she’s got nonna’s ring?” You walk into the kitchen and overhear one of his cousins say to her sister and she nods while swallowing her drink.

“Maybe if you all weren’t such energy vampires draining the life out of him and realised that everyone handles grief differently then maybe you would’ve realised that all he needed was therapy and a lot of love. Which I give him everyday. I’d suggest you spend less time worrying about us and worry about why your husband has been over there eye-fucking Cruella since she arrived after everyone else. Because we’re good over here.” you advise and grab a Frankenstein sugar cookie off of the table next to them.

One of the cousins apologises for gossiping and her sister scoffs past you to go find her aforementioned husband.

You take a bite out of the cookie and watch as Erin walks over to you shaking her head. She hands you a glass of “Witches Brew” and leans against the table next to you.

“About time she got knocked down a peg. Sophia has always been a bitch since we were kids. I’m talking full on chopping one side of my hair to the top of my ear when we were 9 because she wanted to “play hairdresser”. My mom had to tell everyone that I was trying to look like Rihanna with the asymmetrical bob. My hair still won’t grow right to this day.” you both laugh for a moment and she nudges your shoulder.

“For what it’s worth. I’m glad to see him laugh. I haven’t seen him so genuinely happy since he was following Mike around on some adventure of the day. I don’t think many people realise that he was not only his brother but also his best friend. I know that he still blames himself for the disconnect. For what happened… You reached him when none of us could. And you’re glowing so he must be doing something right. He looks at you like you’re made of all the stars and wonders that the astronauts are constantly seeking. I just hope that he doesn’t fuck it up because I’ve already made a new friend tonight.” She smiles warmly at you and you nod.

Erin continues to talk for a while about her new baby and starting a new business as a wedding planner and telling you that you should definitely give her a call when you’re ready to plan for your wedding.

You were swaying to the music and sipping on the glass of “Witches Brew” when you noticed Carmen’s social battery dying mid sentence.

He was zoning out and you can tell that the conversation he was having with his Aunt Catrina was not one that he wanted to be having.

Carmy was ruffling his hands through his hair and picking at his nail beds and you knew that he was having a bit of sensory overload.

Like clockwork his eyes begin to scan the room and you give him a soft smile.

"Love you" you mouth to him.

You watch his shoulders drop slightly and his jaw unclench as he tries to nod along to whatever she’s saying to him.

“Thank you Erin, I’ll definitely give you a call girl because honestly I have no idea of what colour scheme I want or flowers or any of those things. How’s next Wednesday? Perfect. I’m gonna go get my fiance out of that trap.” You say to her as you excuse yourself from the conversation.

“Perfect- go go go lovebird. I’m going to go see if I can find my “Johnny” around here somewhere.” she says with a laugh and gives you a hug before going about her way.

“Well, I just- just. He- he.” You frown as you hear Carmen begin to stutter, you can tell that he was getting overwhelmed at this point.

You saunter next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, turning to nuzzle his neck and he instantly relaxes into your touch.

“Missed you by my side, handsome.” you whisper against his neck.

“So yeah, Michael called me 5 days before high out of his mind-” Catrina continues and you pretend to stumble into her as you switch on your heels and some of the dark red drink splashes onto her dress , staining her Dolly Parton costume.

“Oh for fucks sake. I am so sorry Catrina. I can’t walk in these damn heels. Honestly, I should’ve just worn sneakers.” you lie and Carmy turns the other way to try and hide his laugh.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Excuse me Carmen. Let me go see if I can find some club soda around here somewhere. Don’t go anywhere.” she says and leaves you two alone finally.

You guide him to a dark corner of the room so that he can catch his breath and relax away from the buzzing of the social scene.

He wraps his arms around you two as you back into a wall and rests against it comfortably.

“Do you want to go home? Just say the word and we can get out of here and into our pjs with the rest of the flan that you made last night. I would be so down.“ You suggest as you sway your hips to the music in the dark corner of the room while Thriller plays in the background.

“I’m okay. Catrina never knew how to read a room and I just wanted you back in my arms.” Carmen wasted no time placing kisses onto your neck and shoulders while his hands trail down your arms while dancing with you.

Albeit, he was a little offbeat but he was making an effort.

You sneakily press against him firmly and you chuckle softly when you hear him let out a little shocked gasp.

You never stop moving your hips to the music as you begin to roll them and feel him harden against your touch while matching your movements.

“Baby you can’t do this right now. I don’t want to go through the rest of this party hard as fuck tonight.” He laughs, laced with a soft groan.

“Who said you had to? I believe that I saw a bathroom down the hall to the right.” You tease and walk away knowing that he was going to be right on your heels.

Carmen knocked three times before you pulled him into the dark bathroom and your lips found his thinner soft pink ones.

He rests his forehead against yours and lets his lips ghost over yours before he pecks your lips again and lifts you onto the black and white marble counter.

He lets his tongue massage yours for a moment with his hands under your chef-style dress and he slides his warm hand into your panties, circling your clit before dipping two fingers into you.

You grab his wrist and try to stifle your moans while Carmy sucks a love bite into the top of your breast.

Carmy currently had the “S” and the “O” of his tattoos in you and was trying to sink the “U” into you while you began to ride his fingers and bite into your plump bottom lip , trying to stay quiet and respectful.

Carmen leans back to give you a look that says “why are you holding it in”.

He wants to make you feel good and he likes to hear you when he makes you feel good he doesn’t really care whomever else hears it too.

You remove his fingers and bring them to his lips and he does not hesitate to lick them clean.

Ever the whore, he makes a show of savouring the taste of you while licking his lips and pulling you closer to him to taste yourself.

“Of all the delicious things I’ve tasted, the best by far will always be you.” He mumbles against your lips.

You move off of the counter and onto your knees, fumbling around in the dark with his buckle before sliding his pants down.

You take a moment to kiss thighs and from base to the flushed head that matches the colour of his strawberry lips while running your hands over his thighs again.

You look up at him as he tries to find a wall to brace himself against while you kitten lick the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft before teasing the slit of him with your tongue. You place soft kisses to the tip to tease him slightly.

“You want it? You want me to take it into my mouth? I need you to use your words.” You tease, still licking from the base to the tip again.

“Yes. Yes, baby. Stop teasing me like this. Come on. Please?”

You take a moment to spit over here knowing that he likes it sloppy. You made sure to look him in his eyes as you slid him past your plush soft two toned lips into your mouth.

Carmen looks down at you smiling for a moment before rubbing your jaw and helping you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Oooh fuck. I’m gonna be honest. If you keep looking at me with them pretty brown eyes I’m not going to last longer than 5.” He admits breathily as you begin to bob slowly, letting your mouth and throat massage over him and you hum really vibrating against him.

“I- I- have to be in you. You’re too fucking good at this and you’re going to make me cum if you don’t- if you don’t come up now.” He says quietly to you and you let out a laugh only further massaging him. You massage his balls softly and he lets out a whine almost, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you off of him.

He once again lifted you onto the counter this time laying you back onto it and pulling you to the edge so that he can have full access to you. Carmen fumbles with your panties for a moment trying to get them out of the way before making sure to slide himself up and down your slit.

Carmy slides against the plush raven colored curls of your mound using this time to return the teasing and coat himself in your honey.

“Carmen.” You warn

“Okay, I know. I know.” He taps it against your clit one last time before pushing into you with a long drawn out moan of your name.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. You were already mewling at the way he tilted your hips and rolled his own into you, stretching you out to the hilt.

Once he set the pace he placed his hands on each side of your face and begin to fuck into you at a rhythm that already made tears prickle the corner of your eyes. He knew your body better than the map of his hometown and he knew just how to stroke you to get you where you needed to be.

His kisses were hot against your skin as he pulled down the top of your dress and bra to your mouth at your nipples. The little soft dark ochre colored buds stood at attention as he sucked skillfully on each.

“You feel like fucking heaven, my love. You’re so warm and wet for me? Is this all for me?” He questions next to your ear before putting his fingers in your mouth, getting them wet so that he can rub at your clit in soft slow precise circles just the way that you like it.

“It’s all for you baby, fuck. I’m getting close. ” You whimper and you wince for a moment at the counter digging into your back from the angle that he had one of your legs on his shoulder and the other one open for him to see all of you.

Carmen doesn’t miss anything when it comes to you and he slows his pace to search your face for the cause of that wince.

He leans down to kiss up your neck and to your lips before looking into your eyes. “What’s wrong mama? Is this hurting your back? You want to switch?” He asks, pulling out slowly and helping you stand up.

Carmen takes a seat on the bathroom counter before sitting you up onto his lap. It was his turn to whine softly as you rocked down onto him.

“All the way to the bottom baby. You can take it. Mhmm, I know you can. Ooh fuck, good girl. You’re so good for me. Taking me all the way down to the base. Good job baby. Fuck, can you feel that?” he whispers against your lips while pulsing inside of you and his brows furrowed together and he tips his head back.

You moan into each other's mouths almost instantaneously when you sink all the way to the base, stretching you out again.

His hands are splayed out on your back and hips and then down under your costume to hold your cheeks and help you bounce at a steady pace.

He resists the urge to spank you and instead opted for gripping your ass like a vice as he begins to twitch inside of you and you open your eyes to look at him.

He smiles sheepishly at you knowing you can feel him practically throbbing inside of you as you tease him at this point pulling almost all the way out and then slamming down onto him again. The lewd sounds echoing throughout the marble bathroom.

“Mhhmm okay, fuck me then. Fuck, get it. Fuck me harder then. Come on. Fuck me harder baby.” He moans and you can only answer him with broken moans of your own.

It felt like he was spearing straight into the spot where you needed him most with every drop and roll of your hips.

You both let out a long sigh when he adds jolts and thrusts of his own in tandem with yours. Carmy’s hands make their way between your legs again to rub at your clit and leans forward to kiss your nose.

“Ah shit, baby , baby, baby, slow down. Baby. I-. Oh fuck, I’m right there. Mama, fuck I’m right there. It’s too fucking good. It’s too good. I’m-” he whines out against your neck and you can feel him finishing inside you as his stomach clenches and he grabs you hard enough to leave bruises on your hips tomorrow morning.

You begin to milk him as you grind your hips slowly as your own orgasm washes over you and the sensation mixed with the way he’s still skillfully playing with you and licking up your neck and the shell of your ear.

“You okay?” Carmy sighs, holding your chin in his hand and looking you over with a small satisfied smile on his face.

You smile against his hand letting out a laugh at your current situation.

“Fucking better than ever, but we’ve got to get out of this bathroom before someone notices that we’ve been gone for like 30 minutes.” you say getting off of him and you both let out a moan at the feeling.

He helps you clean up and adjust your dress before you help him put his hat back on and you leave the bathroom first , laughing to yourself.

You notice some people looking at you and then Carmy walking out behind you and entering the room where the party is still going.

You look around the room and find Natalie dancing next to her mother and Pete and she gives you a wink when her eyes catch yours.

Richie walks over half drunk and with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Well shit cousin, what vampire attacked you on your way to the bathroom?” He jokes and you look over at him with lipstick all over the collar of his coat and bright purpley-red love bites forming on the column of his throat and the side of his neck.

“I don’t know dickhead, maybe the same one that’s on Tiff’s neck over there.” Carmy fires back and Richie smirk drops instantly.

“ Who the fuck invited that ass-wipe? It’s family only.” He says and you both laugh because Richie’s technically not even blood-related but he’s family.

“You coming with us cousin or you’re going to work it out with Tiff? We’re gonna call it a night.” Carmy asks and Nat walks over, giving Carmen the Remy and presents that were lost throughout the night.

“And listen to another round of whatever you two had going on last night? Hell no. I’m going to get this prick out of her face.” Richie says patting Carmy’s shoulder and walking off.

“I’m guessing Remy didn’t make the cut for the little bathroom adventure. Don’t worry, I'll be sending you a bill for the cleaning supplies. Asshole. You two are taking off already?” Natalie says half jokingly, pushing Carmen.

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m old now. It’s 11. Gotta be up at 5 tomorrow so I’m gonna try and get some sleep. Say goodbye to mom and everyone else for me?” he asks and you give Natalie one last hug.

She whispers a “thank you” in your ear before letting you go.

“Yeah yeah. Get out of here loser... It was nice to actually see you smiling tonight and just being here in general. I’ve missed you, you know.” She says and he nods fully understanding what she meant.

“Family dinner, next week. Our place, Thanksgiving. See you then.” Carmen reminds her and he takes the presents from her and with that you two are on your way home possibly for round two and three and that flan that was mentioned earlier.

4 months away from being married and you still couldn’t be happier with your choice for a life partner.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #the bear #carmy the bear #fanfic for black girls

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msponies · 2 years

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What the shit did you smoke for you to make this blog inactive!?

okay this is a little fun a little sassy silly…… i dig it i vibe….. i’m currently at my grandparents house taking my dog out so i think it’s a good time to go through my past ~14 months and together we can see where i fell off the wagon (SLASH GEN i promise i’m not being snarky! i really do want you all who have supported me to know i’m okay + what i’ve been up to)

it’ll be under the cut, and as a thank you to all of you,

oh yeah. ohhhhhhhh yeah

july 2021: artfight happens, i do two attacks and then just stop drawing ANYTHING. i started sewing again briefly which was the second crafty hobby i had before drawing (first was origami!), so that eats up my time. if i remember i want to edit this when i’m home and add a picture from my old phone of me sitting on my bed with my cats, sewing a “sock creature” (PLEASE please if you have the time look up john murphy’s sock creatures, his first book was so formative to me)

august 21: i start working at spirit halloween!!

september 21: i become close friends with this guy Vincent, we had known of each other for a while and were mutual fans of each other’s art but here we start talking on a daily basis!!!

october 21: obviously The Big One for a spirit employee, it was halloween all month baby! i had three costumes (the third was Raph from tmnt but i don’t have a pic 😿)

(side note i LOVE the turtles, the reason i got that black wig in the goth cat costume was to cosplay casey jones from tmnt2012)

november 21: by the nature of spirit halloween i am now unemployed. i try hbwr seeds for the first time which to answer the original question is most likely what i smoked to make this blog inactive

december 21: I BREAK UP WITH MY EX!!!! i found his secret pr0$h!p twitter on christmas eve so i timed pretty much the exact midpoint between christmas and new years and broke it off then

january 22: i reorganize my life!! i get a new bed frame and other furniture for my room to celebrate my fresh start. i find a very rudimentary children’s sewing machine at goodwill and get fully back into making sock creatures!!!! plus i hack a 3ds, but i know we’re all doing that

february 22: this is where i really do just become burned out for a bit, i do JACK SQUAT except make a G2 Tier Maker:

march 22: i start taking job hunting seriously… ALSO me and Vinnie who i mentioned back in september keep talking and keep growing closer; i send him a playlist of songs that make me think of our ponysonas and for the first time it becomes really clear to each of us how much we like one another 💥 the playlist in question:

april 22: i turn 24! i also start working at taco bell. i also stop working at taco bell. i watch a good chunk of pac man and the ghostly adventures

may 22: probably my favorite month of the year thus far! i journal every day, go to the park, work hard around the house and in general do what feels gratifying to me!

june 22: i go to a pride event in my city and run into a girl who i bought a teddy bear purse from at spirit! she mentions applying at the McAlister’s that’s opening next month and i follow suit; it goes poifectly and my training starts at the beginning of…

july 22: DELI TIME! i’m trained to work prep which means folding up all the meat that gets used for sandwiches, plus slicing n dicing various produce. Vincent and I are like 💓official💓 at this point or whatever….. :)

august 22: i adjust to life behind the industrial-grade rotary slicer. i get back DEEP into webkinz. Vincent and i meet up for the first time!!!!!!!!!!!!!

september 22: loooots more boyfriend time 🎉 but also i go back to school 👎

now: well damn! i’m in a little bit of a rut in full honesty; i only have so much energy in a given day and i spend most of it on work and school. i am so grateful for everyone who has shown me patience, and i want to prove that it wasn’t “wasted” on me in any way. i still have a lot of personal work to do before i can post on a reliable schedule again

thank you :)

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palin-tropos · 1 year

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ok let’s do it. let’s have it. the Jargument

if you interact with the really early posts I made for my pathologic/main blog followers about disliking jeanvic that’s okay but pls bear in mind those are pretty much the feelings I had right as the credits were rolling

if he’s your blorbo he’s your blorbo, god knows I’ve gone to bloody war on behalf of another character who often provokes negative emotions (bachelor daniil dankovsky pathologic)

but also if you want me to soften on the character it’s not gonna work to be like “actually harry deserves it” or “jean did nothing wrong” cause I already have thought over those things and disagree

I tend to really dislike characters who are written by fandom to have a static or constantly resetting antagonistic attitude towards a sympathetic character and it’s the sympathetic character’s job to just get accustomed to verbal abuse and take it less personally and eventually warm up to the cranky attitude instead of asking for it to stop.

NB: harry having done fucked up things in his past doesn’t make him less subjectively sympathetic by the end of the game. unless you decided to play him as a jackass but well I didn’t lol

my initial reaction to Harry Du Bois after one playthrough was pity for the fact that the amnesia seemed to save his life (and if he intentionally tried to induce it, I have even more pity for the fact that he was trying to save himself and save the world from himself at the same time), because it removed him from his toxic cycles of shame and interpersonal drama and self-loathing. the way I played him, he made more progress in a week than he’d clearly done in years. and that’s cool! that’s a good story!

what I felt at the end of it is that I wanted to give him more time. another week, maybe a month. but he can’t, he needs a job, because he needs medical care. I felt downright scared to let him go off with the Precinct 41 characters, because it might be too soon to try to get back to the regular cop life (I mean fuck being a cop anyway but that’s another matter)

I was really emotionally invested in this fictional character man and so, you know, sorry about being skeptical that he was going to be okay being pulled back into the life that made him want to die in the first place, by characters who didn’t even want to visit his bedside when he was recovering from a bullet wound, even though they had time to sit around for days in a cafeteria wearing a wig and dodging all sincerely asked questions. it felt like a reasonable reaction at the time

#bangs my hands on the table ‘Jargument! Jargument! Jargument’

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phantomenby · 2 years

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Most wanted

xxleahx asked:

Can I get a Paul x Assissan reader, the reader is from Japan her target fled to Santa Carla to try an escape death, ,she runs into Paul, while looking for the person she was sent to kill, she finds the person she was looking for but it had to be ruined by the one and only Paul, she go annoyed with him.

this is very late i hope u r still alive my dude <3

The small house was still, a window slightly open was the only indication that anyone lived there.

Inside was a lone figure. A woman. Hunched over the kitchen sink.

She had been thinking for quite some time, going over what she had found and trying to get a better grasp of things. It was hard, harder than she was used to.

At least here, in this shithole of a town, she could hide. It was easy to blend, the few wigs she had brought with her made her change from the average American woman with a frizzy perm to a lady of business and class.

But she had been here a week, and was no closer to killing the bitch that had dragged her across three continents now.

Sighing she reached for the scissors on the woven shelves beside the sink, reaching up, and making the first cut through her thick dark hair.

Now, you hated America.

The weather changed in every state, and the money was confusing - why isn't it already taxed? then I don't have to do mental gymnastics to figure it out?? - and don't get me started on the politics.

Almost everyone thought you were one of the Vietnamese working ladies in the salons, asking you to do their nails and perm their hair.

At least it was easy to buy weapons

Oh and shady shit? in a motel? everyday occurrence. You were sure if you dragged someone into a room and mutilated them on the bed that the cleaner would just charge you ten bucks extra for the blood and move on.

But Santa Carla. The Hellmouth you had ended up in. Was worse than any other town you had been deposited in so far.

You fluffed it up, flattened it down, cried out in frustration. And repeat.

Personally, you thought it was a good idea. Cutting your hair that is. And it was, putting on wigs was a lot smoother without the need for a bald cap. Plus you looked kind of boyish which would add a whole new range of looks to blend in with.

Yes. This would do nicely.

"Well, no time like the present"

Heading to your suitcase you zipped it open, opting for something a little more masc for tonight. Some ripped blue jeans, a band t-shirt you had borrowed from a gift shop, and a leather jacket.

Santa Carla was punk, and so would you be.

Your hair was left in its choppy pixie-cut style, it was far too hot and you were far too irritable to wear a wig.

With you you brought a pistol and a knife, growing up in Japan had taught you to be resourceful, and to use your hands before relying on anything else. So weapons were more of a last resort.

Nothing felt better than the crunching feel of someone's neck snapping beneath your fingers.

As you left your "home" the sweltering heat hit you, even as the sun was going down and nighttime was setting in the scorching heat of the west coast was beating down on you.

Fortunately, you had a car and wouldn't be forced to walk all the way to the bar you knew your target would be spending the evening at.

For someone with such a high price on his head, he sure was an idiot, always going to the same spot, drinking the same drinks, and going home with some poor woman who he definitely wasn't paying enough.

Once you reached the boardwalk you parked in a back alley, figuring it would be easier to drag a body there than in a large, overcrowded car lot. No one was around and it stank strongly of piss and the suffocating sweetness of fairground treats.

"Christ.." you took another deep sniff, brows furrowing, blood. That's what it stank of.

Blood wasn't unusual in Santa Carla

Dead bodies weren't unusual in Santa Carla

But that didn't make the Stench of it any easier to bear. In all your years as a professional you still despised the sweet irony scent, most times you would plug your mose of drown your clothes in peppermint oil to mask it.

Still, you were smart, no point in investigating something that wasn't your problem.

You found your target sitting alone, back hunched and eyes drowning in dark puffy circles. He was nursing a dry martini with two empty glasses already by his side.

Perfect.

It was funny seeing him like this. In the photos you received, he was rather charming, always wearing three-thousand-dollar suits and hair thick and healthy. Now Prada looked like something from a thrift shop on him, and you could see the way his toupe was falling apart around the edges.

You stayed outside, deciding to wait for him to leave before grabbing him, clearly not dressed for seduction or as another patron.

Though maybe...

"Hmm.." you took another glance inside the bar, seeing that it wasn't anything too fancy, heck you could spot a small group of men in leather and dark denim scrounging in the corner, messing around like idiots.

Fuck it

You walked carefully, taking notes of all the exits, where everyone was sat, the menu, the seat you would perch on nearby, and the staff making sure none of them were too shady.

Pulling out a stool you sat down, one foot just brushing the floor, the other pressing your weight onto a bar a foot above the ground.

Your future victim spared you a glance. Good.

Ordering an old-fashioned you passed the bartender a five-dollar bill, before dragging your hands over the varnished wood in front of you, wincing at the sticky feel.

"-wouldn't do that man, things old as me, heh"

Got him

You turned with false curiosity, arching a brow. He nodded to the bar and you laughed, "oh, thanks man".

He smiled, tilting his drink towards you, "you from out of town too?"

Idiot

"Uh yeah, felt like a little holiday for m'self," the southern accent you had adopted was smooth, and you let your worlds drawl at the end, "and you? Taking a break from the wife?"

The two of you shared a laugh, you engaging with him as he went on a rant about his home life, pretending to listen as you reached over for a napkin and dropped a pill in his drink.

Paul had been watching you.

Not in the bar of course, that would have been too obvious.

No.

He was right across the street, leant on his bike with Dwayne by his side, observing your actions with glee.

His darker haired counterpart was looking rather bored in comparison.

"Paul?"

The blonde hummed, eyes not leaving you.

"You know if you go near them they'll try to kill you," not that Dwayne really cared, he just didn't want Paul getting his hopes up and then coming to whine about it to him when it all blew up in his face.

Paul brushed it off, perking up when he watched you bring out your own victim, letting the man lean on you while heading towards a rather lavish vehicle.

It wasn't easy carrying the target into his dumb fancy car

Or bringing him to your room

But you hadn't expected it to be this simple

It was almost too easy. Just drag him into the tub, kill him, collect the award and you could be on your way.

Back to your sweet sweet little town in the east.

If only some idiot hadn't decided now was the perfect time to open your door

"Can I help you?"

Your eye was twitching slightly, the only sign of your annoyance as you took in the man in front of you.

He was of similar height, his eyes meeting your own easily.

It would have been much nicer to look down at him and smack that dumb grin off his face.

"Well I was thinking-"

"That's a good start," your snarky words cut him off mid-sentence and you were sure his eyes darkened, "listen unless it's something important I don't have the time to entertain you, take your shoddy business elsewhere thank you!"

With that you slammed the door close, ignoring his evergrowing grin.

You had only a few things left to do and then you would be gone for the night.

Your special little victim had been disposed of quickly after you had forced him to sign a few things, snapping some nice photos for evidence as you hacked through him.

It was easy to dispose of the evidence since his body never left the bathtub.

Now, time to deal with the body.

Once again, another blessing of the US was the ridiculous amount of unused empty space.

And with the town being so dry you could bury the body and no nature would be disturbed to the extent it would be obvious that there was something buried there.

It was still pretty tiring though, the grave had to be deep and you had stupidly chosen a spot between some trees so you would have some sort of coverage.

You had gone about five feet deep, your head still peeking over the edge.

The night was calm and the moon was shining above you.

Perhaps in another life you would have lived in a town like this, having a boring family and a cosy little house.

Leaning your head on the shovel handle you let yourself breathe for a moment or too.

Theres no need to rush, not like anyones going to find me way out-

"Oh hello again," a familiar voice drawled to your right, freezing you in place, "don't tell me you've forgotten about little old me?"

Looking up you were met with the same idiot from earlier, his body in a crouch as he looked down at you, smiling as your face grew darker.

He went to speak again and you raised your shovel, aiming for his stomach. Faster than you could blink he was grabbing onto the shaft and yanking it away from you.

"Awe doll, playing rough?"

What the hell

You backed away slightly, moving to the other end of the hole, watching his eyes follow you.

"So, what do you want?"

He rose to his full length, glancing between you and the body still wrapped in an old carpet.

With a shrug he gave it a nudge, moving back to stand close to you, offering his hand with a smile.

The last thing you expected from this 'mission' of sorts was to befriend someone, well four someones.

Whatever they were, you didn't care, you were more concerned about them keeping their mouths shut.

In the end they offered you a way out. A freedom from your rather tiresome life, a new way of existing alongside them.

Paul was closest to you, not that you were always particularly appreciative of that fact, enjoying David's chilling aura the most.

But here you were, laying down on top of a cliff, your compadre beside you.

"You're thinking too much again," a joint was waved in front of your face, rings reflecting the subtle moonlight, "you sure you don't wan' a schmoke? Gotta learn to relax a little."

Raising your arm you let him pass it to you, bringing it to your lips and taking a deep inhale.

As the smoke passed through you and your tension eased only one thought passed through your mind.

This is the life

#tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #marko the lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys fic #the lost boys x reader #dwayne tlb #paul tlb

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invisibleraven · 1 year

Note

53 and Carrie and anyone?

Carrie is beaming as the applause rings out, trying not to show how her lungs are working overtime to regain a normal breathing pattern, how her heart is thundering in her chest matching the beat of the clapping. Instead she waves, smiles, bows and runs off the stage, collapsing into the chair provided, chugging down her water as the girls follow behind her.

She takes the compliments thrown her way, nodding at each thumbs up and smile, trying to ensure the smile doesn't slip off her face, not until she's in her dressing room, washing off her mask of make up. Carefully putting the pink wig on the stand, stripping off the sequins and glitter. Her persona of the Pink Candi-armour of old in bedazzled glory-it keeps her safe, but it's a heavy burden to bear every evening.

She feels fake and hollow every time she dons it-like she has to be this bright glittery thing to be noticed when all she wants, all she's ever wanted, is to be loved as Carrie Wilson. It weighs heavy on her as she heads home to her big, empty condo.

She takes her time in the shower, letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles, slowly coming back to herself as the suds run down the drain. Pulls her hair into a wet and messy bun, slings on her comfiest sweats and the oversized pink sweater that she stole from Alex ages ago. He's yet to ask for it back, but then again, they haven't talked in years, so she doubts he ever will.

She misses her friend.

Alex who was thrilled to dance and sing with Dirty Candi back in high school. Who could out snark her almost any day but also gave her the best hugs. Who encouraged her to go after her dreams, no matter what people would say about her using her dad's name to make it.

But then she became a superstar and Alex went off to college to become an art history major. They tried to keep in touch, but...

She still wonders what he's doing right now, every so often. Wonders if he's teaching somewhere, if he and Willie made it the long run and have a house with 2.5 kids running around it. Wonders if he still sees Luke and Reggie on the regular, or if they lost touch as well.

She pulls out her phone, and opens Facebook. Her account is long dormant, hidden from the fans. She clicks on Alex's name.

There he is. Happy and smiling, looking a little older, a little more mature. He's got his arm slung around Willie, and there's a small redheaded girl standing by them, her smile rivalling theirs, even with her missing front teeth.

She scrolls through his feed, seeing him post stupid memes, sarcasm at current events, and pictures of his family. She learns the girl is named Isla, that she's four, and apparently a spitfire with Alex's wit and Willie's perchance for chaos from the few videos. She's watching one of Isla skateboarding for the first time, and her finger slips, liking the video.

Carrie swears, tries to unclick the button to no avail, the damage is done. Worse yet, it looks like Alex is online, because her messenger opens up with a message from him.

Alex: Carrie?

Carrie: Hi Lexie

Alex: Wow, long time

Carrie: Yeah... I was feeling nostalgic. Missed you. See you've done okay for yourself.

Alex: No complaints. And you... you're a superstar! I see your face on billboards, on buses. My little girl, Isla loves you.

Carrie: That's so sweet. You'll have to send me your address, I can send her some autographed merch

Alex: She'd love that.

There's a beat, and Carrie wonders if that's it. If this is just a story Alex can tell, how he can recall to Isla that he knew her when she was a nobody. Then the little dots appear, disappear, and finally a new message appears.

Alex: So, why the nostalgia?

Carrie: I still have your sweater. Made me feel... I dunno, like my life was missing something.

Alex: You worked so hard and it shows Care, what could you be lacking?

Carrie: Someone to share it with? A friend who knows me and not the whole get up I wear onstage? Something... something real.

Her FaceTime notification rings then, and Carrie sees it's Alex calling. She opens the call and grins at seeing Alex. His blond hair flopping down his forehead, those blue eyes shining at her. "Well you still look like Carrie to me," he says.

"And you look like a dad," she replies, nodding to his shirt covered in tiny handprints of paint and flour.

He chuckles at that. "Yeah, we made Play Doh, it's surprisingly messy." His smile slips a little. "Talk to me princess."

Carrie sighs, settling further into her couch. Tells him about her life, how hollow it all feels, how her dreams catapulted her to stardom but didn't make her happy. Alex talks about his life in turn, his frustrating students, but how happy his domestic life is.

Tells her about how Luke married some girl named Julie and is a guitar player in some band or another. "They have two kids, twin girls named Harmony and Melody," Alex says and they share a nose scrunch at that. "I know, I know."

"That boy is obsessed," Carrie sighs. "What about Reggie?"

Alex's face falls at that. "Reg... Reggie passed last year Carrie."

"W-what?" Carrie stutters. She and Reggie had never been close, but she liked him well enough. He always had a bad joke or a warm smile for her. Always offered to share his snacks or his math notes. He'd been one of the good guys, and Carrie had always thought him rather cute.

Alex's face is grim now. "Yeah, he..." Alex shakes his head for a moment. "It was bad. He never told us how sick he was, and then he was in the hospital, and then he was gone days later. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," she whispers. "I know how close you two were."

"Yeah," Alex says with a sniffle. "Willie and I... we're in the process of getting Isla a little brother right now. Due any day. We're gonna name him Reggie."

"Reginald Mercer does have a ring to it," Carrie says, wiping away a tear.

"Shotton," Alex says. "The kids took Willie's last name. Fuck carrying on the Mercer legacy."

"Doesn't your sister have a kid?"

"Patrick took Jade's last name, so did Olivia," Alex replies. "I offered to take Willie's, but where he grew up in foster care... he said he wanted me to keep the one thing my parents gave me." He lets out a small yawn then. "Sorry Carrie, been a long day and Isla likes to wake us at dawn."

"That's okay, hit the sack. It-it was nice to catch up," Carrie says, waving him off.

"Feel free to call or message me any time," Alex says. "Maybe don't leave it years this time though?"

"Fuck you," Carrie replies, but her smile betrays her. She offers Alex one last goodbye, and then sinks back into the cushions.

She feels lighter, heavier, and more like herself than she has in ages. So much so that she pulls out a notebook, scribbling down a song about a girl breaking free.

Then another about kind green eyes gone too soon, and hopes that wherever Reggie's spirit is, he's still smiling.

#filled prompts #ficlet #carrie & alex #julie and the phantoms #i am so very sorry for doing this to reggie but it fit too well #i am going to hide from all the angry reactions now

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local-redhead-bookworm · 2 years

Text

Interrupting your regularly scheduled content from me to complain about the new LOTR show. My mother had told me she was planning on watching the show anyway, so I watched the first two episodes with her. I don’t plan on watching the rest. Prepare for an exhaustive list of reasons why.

First off, some things I did like:

Arondir. One of the best new characters, and works very well in a bad show. I’m glad that a human-Elf relationship was addressed as the rarity it was. He’s also very handsome.

The Harfoots’ sense of community, and Nori and the Stranger (Gandalf?). Their interactions were charming, and Nori has the same wide-eyed wonder as Frodo.

Disa and Durin’s interaction. They were fun and Disa was very funny.

Now for the issues, which is basically everything else.

Why are these Elf kids bullying each other? Valinor was basically Eden

Correction: Elves had died before the kinslaying. That’s why Galadriel and Finrod exist, their grandfather remarried after his first wife died.

Where is Finrod’s signature flowing golden hair?

The dialogue is painfully clunky. It does not get better. “It’s not going to float, it’s going to sail.” Those are the same thing?? And Finrod “beloved by every species” Felagund would never have encouraged Galadriel to choose the Dark Side. Also her name was still Artanis (used here on out) at this time, since Celeborn gave her that name

We skipped over several ages of war entirely too fast. What about the Feanorians? The Kinslayings? And Finrod didn’t die in a battle, he died saving Beren from a werewolf in Sauron’s dungeons. So him being Artanis’ tragic motivation is not accurate.

Artanis was a respected lady, not just a commander. And her desire for war and violence wasn’t a good thing.

Artanis crossed the Helcaraxë (a massive ice bridge) to get to Middle Earth, she should know more about surviving a frozen wasteland than this!

What is with the Elves’ costumes? These are Noldor, they’re basically known for being extravagant. And with the massive budget, they still couldn’t get some long wigs for the male Elves? Arondir would have looked so cool with a bunch of long braids!

Why do Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad look so much older than Galadriel, who was literally around before the moon? Those two are young by Elf standards.

Elrond makes absolutely no mention of Maedhros and Maglor?

What is going on with Elrond and Artanis? They’re not a couple

That’s not…how the Undying Lands work. None of that is right. Gil-Galad can’t give the right to go to Valinor, all the Elves lost that right to physically travel back when they left Valinor. The only way back is for Elves to actually die

Bronwyn? Theo? Those are the names the writers went with?

That’s not…the history of the Silmarils. Morgoth didn’t steal them because he found them beautiful, he stole them because he was jealous of Feanor’s ability to create when he could only warp or destroy. He didn’t hide them away because he couldn’t bear to look at them, he set them in his crown. That’s a whole plot point when Beren and Luthien steal one.

Also we should already be seeing Sauron as Annatar. Where is he?

Do Durin and Disa have a Silmaril?

The show is bad on lore and dialogue alone. But the most blatant deviation from Tolkein’s themes is the attitude surrounding war. Tolkien was a World War One veteran, he saw people die for honor or come back traumatized. The core theme of his work has always been that there is no honor in waging war, only in defending our homes and family, and that it is far more honorable to grow and heal than it is to kill. Galadriel’s characterization is a direct contradiction of that theme. She’s not a hero for chasing vengeance and refusing to move on from Finrod’s death, she’s falling into the same trap that Eowyn did, wishing for honor and glory or a death in battle. Her behavior is understandable, but her reckless endangerment of other lives shouldn’t be framed as heroic.

I won’t be watching the rest of the show when it releases. I refuse to let Jeff Bezos twist this series into his little money-making project any further. He himself is a direct betrayal of everything Tolkein stood for. Don’t be fooled by the CGI, it’s not worth it. Don’t give him your money or if you must watch the show, pirate it.

#tolkein #lord of the rings #rings of power #lotr on prime #lord of the rings rings of power #rings of power critical #my posts

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akatabitch · 2 years

Text

Queen of Hell

featuring: bbymutha/Brittnee Moore & black!fem enby character

genre:smut 18+ (nsfw—minors/ageless/empty blogs dni)

warnings:smut, time jumps, explicit language, tribbing, cunniligus, rimjob, strap-on play, facesitting, drug use

themes:Black American folklore, supernatural, The Crossroads Man

a/n: ee=she/he/them/it in various Black American creoles. Some parts are written in aave, but I may go back & edit to make it more universally understandable. & this is my first post & story on this platform so don’t do me lol.

wc:3,577

Eden inhaled deeply through the nose and blew a long breath out of their mouth. Pinching the bridge of their nose. A fruitless attempt to quiet the simmering rage swelling inside.

After a short eye roll, they continued scrolling through the slew of emails sent to their phone in the span of a couple of hours.

Eden was currently on an assignment in Atlanta. In fact, they had only landed an hour ago. This particular project required them to document the rituals of several Cuban Fodu cabildos.

If one was truly thorough, they’d prioritize building affinity with the subjects of the work, before ever recording anything. Eden was certainly thorough. It could be months before they had anything to show.

Eden couldn't imagine doing anything else with their life. Filmmaking and the opportunity to document the aspects of humanity that interested them, while often plagued by financial uncertainty, was fulfilling.

Still, the gun of poverty steadied at their temple, seemed to never waver. And the entitlement from sponsors and fellowship faculty often made Eden consider another path.

Or… a way to raise the monies to fund projects themselves.

Following the divination given by previous interviewees, Eden had taken some rum, cigars, and other offerings to the crossroads for "the man with the Black hat".

Apparently, if you came to him bearing gifts, he'd be open to a preposition, and you could be granted whatever you desired. As of yet, nothing had come of that.

Eden was currently stationed directly outside of the door of the Arará Savalú cabildo—but pivoted, eyes settling on the vintage thrift shop across the street. The building almost looked like a warehouse. Squat and ominous looking as fuck. If it wasn't for the large signs advertising that it was a store, one wouldn't know what to anticipate.

Once inside, Eden noted the lack of customers, but the quality of the merchandise was marvelous. An assorted array of expensive vintage jewelry, printed tees, and decor statement pieces greeted Eden immediately. It was like a charcuterie of aesthetic antiques. Eden felt immediately at ease.

They peered around, trying to locate an owner. But seemed to be totally alone. Eden shrugged, maybe they're in the back. And started to peruse the merchandise.

They visibly brightened at the table full of CDs and vinyl records, in the middle of the store. A toothy smile stretched across their face at the sight. Immediately, Eden began looking through the options of vintage albums haphazardly organized in milk crates. Fingers flipping slowly over each cover, carefully looking through.

They had just discovered a copy of Donna Summer's Love to Love You Baby, when a flutter of color in their peripheral caught their attention.

It was the huge, powder pink afro wig that snared their gaze initially. It was complimentary to Eden's own hot pink puff.

And the longer Eden looked, the more their was to be impressed by. This was beauty a camera could never capture. Beauty that could never be replicated. Their cinnamon brown skin, for one. They had a sailor moon tattoo on their forehead, positioned directly under a lipoma. As Eden sized the curvy figure, it was impossible to not admire the way the pink, red, and white floral miniskirt accentuated their legs. As well, the way the white fitted collared cropped tee hugged their titties. A tattoo was visible underneath their breasts. Stretch marks and beads adorned their waist. And their leopard print sneakers made it obvious the sliver of leopard bra peaking behind their white tee was intentional.

Eden was ready to risk it all. But remembering the plain grey sweats, black oversized Aaliyah tee, wide-framed glasses, and camera hanging around their neck made them hesitate. The "film student" look might've pulled in college, but there was no way it would work on this walking Aphrodite.

Besides, it wasn't good to think such sexual thoughts about strangers anyway.

Eden settled some, stifling the agitation that had risen again, this time provoked by a different emotion—desire. Turning their attention back to the albums before them.

They were reaching to collect the Donna album, when suddenly leopard acrylic nails brushed against their hands.

"My bad." The person with the pink hair giggled slightly, covering their smile with their left hand. Their body language and mannerisms hinted at a bit of shyness, Eden wouldn't have expected. "I hope this isn't weird, but is it okay if I look at your camera?"

Eden consented, lifting the strap up over their head, and relinquishing it to them.

"Where do I click to take a picture?"

Eden leaned over, ignoring the smell of cinnamon invading dey senses. "Just press this button."

They leaned back, angling the camera to capture Eden. Then...click.

"I was thinking about getting one." They slowly lowered the camera. "I like to take videos of my daily life, just don't know which one is the best choice."

"I guess it depends on what you're looking for."

"I just want something that's gonna last for years."

Eden, didn't know if they was reading too much into it, but something about the lilt in their tone seemed suggestive. "This one's pretty good then."

Dead silence filled the room. It was quieter than a graveyard. And suddenly Eden realized how suspicious their sudden appearance was. "I didn't realize anyone else was in here.”

"Yeah, I'm the owner. Monday's are pretty slow."

"Oh-." Eden started to say something, but they cut them off.

"I just wanted to come help you. You seem...like you're searching for something particular." The smirk they sent instantly moistened Eden's boxers.

"My name is Brittnee."

"Eden."

~~~~

How Brittnee ended up in Eden's hotel room was a mystery even to them. Somehow in the span of a mere hour, they had been convinced to skip their plans for the day and to take Brittnee home.

But they couldn't deny the hotel bed was a much needed reprieve from the jet lag currently setting in their body. And the pretty, brown figure warming the left side of the bed was even more relaxing. Leaning back against the black, velvety, headboard, dey peered curiously through they glasses at Brittnee rummaging through her purse.

"You want one?"Brittnee emerged from the bag. Holding up what appeared to be stickers.

"What is it?"

"A portal."

Eden set they glasses to the side. Contemplating momentarily, before nodding sharply.

Brittnee first set a tab on her tongue. Making sure to maintain eye contact with Eden, as she dragged the stiletto nail leisurely down her tongue. Then she gave the other to Eden. Her own saliva coating the tiny sheet.

Eden stuck out they tongue, placing the drug on it, and allowing it to dissolve.

Lust overtook Brittnee, as she watched Eden’s every move intently. There was no sexual intent behind the action, but she couldn’t help but fantasize about the muscle snaking and pressing against her flesh. For the moment, she settled for sucking the tip of Eden’s tongue.

The unexpected connection, combined with the sweet taste of the other's mouth, caused them both to moan softly. As cliché as it sounded, Brittnee tasted like cherries. And to Brittnee, Eden tasted like fire. Sultry and smoky. She could taste beyond Eden's physical form. She could taste they essence. They soul.

Brittnee's hips bucked, as Eden captured her tongue between their soft, cushiony lips. Tilting her head to the side, she deepened the kiss. Massaging Eden's lips keenly with her own. She gripped they neck lightly. Lightly touching the tip of her tongue to Eden’s.

Then slowly pushed them down on the bed. They melted into each other. Minds clouded from the feeling of their warm mouths and fronts, rubbing and brushing together.

Eden reached they hands up to grip Brittnee's breasts, without ever separating their lips.

The sound of their lips suckling and muffled pants filled the room. Merely intensified by the addition of light groping.

Eden sucked Brittnee's bottom lip in they mouth. Then unsatisfied with the light touches, completely tangled their tongue with her's. Swirling it around, until Brittnee felt dizzy. They nipped and sucked and licked at her vulnerable mouth. Eden couldn't stop sampling Brittnee's intoxicating taste. Drunk off her kisses, they smoothed dey hands over her figure; fondling her breasts, her waist, her ass.

It felt like their mouths made love for an eternity. Or maybe, it just took some time for the drugs to hit. When it did, the earth began to melt away. And only then, did their lips separate.

"Welcome to Muthaland." Brittnee said, with that coy smile once again adorning her face.

"We're at the edge of hell. By the end of this trip, I'll take you allllll the way there."

She bent over on the black heart-shaped bed. Black roses were sprinkled across the sheets. A nightstand, filled with a lone powder pink strap-on, a box of condoms, and a familiar looking bottle of rum was tucked on the side. In the distance, the full moon glimmered in the sky.

The clear night sky and draft, gave the impression that they were outside. Eden couldn't see much else beyond the bed before them and the moon above. It felt like they were the only people left in the world, seeing as they couldn’t see anything beyond that.

Brittnee pulled Eden back into her gravity. Teasingly shaking her fat ass in a pink thong. The sight alone had waterfalls flowing and they mind empty of all questions.

The lace bra & panty set she had on, matched the strap perfectly. And the pink afro was gone, now replaced with short, buzzed hair. The tattoos littered across her breasts and body, were enticing.

All of Eden's clothes had disappeared also. Red boxers and a red sports bra, neither of which they recognized, were all they had on. Still, that didn't stop Brittnee from commanding them to, "Strip."

The shyness and coyness was completely gone.

"And come eat mama's pussy." She turned over, sitting on the edge of the bed, opening her legs so Eden could see the meal spread before them.

Brittnee, seemingly pulled a cigar outta nowhere. The tip of her finger glowed, lighting the end. I'm fucking tweaking. Eden thought, as they took off the rest of their clothes. I'm seeing all kinds of shit.

"So the curtains match the drapes." Brittnee said with a giggle. The lack of clothes allowed one to see that Eden's pussy hair was dyed hot pink to match their hair.

"Ye, lemme see if yours do too." Eden crossed the length of the space to Brittnee. In no way deterred by the thick cigar smoke that hung in the air near her.

They didn't hesitate to kneel between Brittnee's brown legs. Beginning by placing a gentle, butterfly kiss in her center. Eden even started to come up to kiss Brittnee's breasts, to stretch the length of the encounter, but a firm hand gripping the back of their head stayed them.

"Eat this pussy, now. Until I tell you to stop."

Eden did as told. Scooping they arms under Brittnee's thick thighs. The slowly licked up the length of her pussy, through the pink panties. Then sucking gently on her nub, stroked her lower lips with the pads of they fingers.

Eden repeated this movement a few times before finally lifting Brittnee's ass up off the bed to slide her panties off. Placing kisses down the trail of hair leading to her honeypot. Then one in the crease of her left leg. On her thigh. On her calf. On her ankle.

Brittnee moaned out of pleasure, but impatiently pushed Eden's head where she wanted it to go.

"I'm not gonna beg for it. You know you want a taste."

Eden tightened they grip on Brittnee's thighs, pulling her wet mound to their equally wet mouth in response. They rounded dey their lips, suctioning on the sensitive skin like a vacuum, sucking up every bit of juice in their path.

Brittnee moaned at the sensation. And Eden moaned at the sound of their lover's moans. Eden was so wet they could feel the moisture trickling down their thighs.

Tongue flickering like the smooth-talking muthafucker that tempted Eve, Eden ate Brittnee's pussy like it was forbidden fruit. Like it was the last meal. The sound of Eden's mewling and Brittnee's encouragement sliced through the surrounding matter.

Brittnee's 'ohyou'resofuckinggoodyourmouth feelssofuckinggoodyesyesyeslickthismuthafuckaupjustlikethatooyounastyfuckingbitch' were broken up only by the sounds of Eden's moans and they lips smacking on Brittnee's sex.

Eden licked long, gentle stripes from bottom to top. Sloppily sucking Brittnee's clit gently into they mouth, and simultaneously licked the tip of her tongue in circles on her clit. Eden expertly licking and sucking her clit at the same time drove Brittnee wild. She pressed Eden's face to her wetness, tightening her thighs around they head, and fucked they face.

Eden shook they head wildly. Also, pressing her face as deep as it could go in Brittnee's center. Never neglecting their job, they continued to suction they mouth.

When fatigue began to affect they muscle. Eden tongue-fucked her hole instead. The saltiness of her outer flesh, was replaced by the sweetness of her center. In and out. In and out. They moaned as Brittnee's walls spasmed around their tongue. It felt like they were kissing again. Eden wasn't really a dirty talker, but Brittnee couldn't help but to call out directives and encouragement.

"Use your fingers."

Eden slowly stuck one finger in Brittnee's drooling pussy. Then eventually two. Then three. They suckled Brittnee's clit and finger-fucked her sweetness until Brittnee's stomach convulsed violently and juices squirted on they face. Even then they didn't stop.

Lifting Brittnee's hips up even more, they licked the edge of her tight asshole. Twirling their skilled tongue around the rim. Then flicking their tongue like it was Brittnee's pussy. Licked and sucked and suckled and sampled and tasted, until Brittnee was no longer speaking coherently. Until she was pulsating and shaking. And yelling something that sounded very close to dontstopdontstop.

Until she came again.

Eden leaned back. Giving Brittnee a moment to collect herself. Barely a moment passed before she way ready for more.

"Getcho fine ass on this bed and bend over."

The moment they did. The bed begin to float. What seemed like solid ground gave way to a lake of fire. It seemed like their journey had begun. The rocking motion of the bed, only made the entire tryst more erotic.

Eden bent over as told. Then moaned loudly the moment Brittnee's lips connected with their leaking pussy. Brittnee ate that shit like it was her first meal. Like she'd never tasted pussy before. Slurping the sticky, clear wetness that leaked from between Eden's thick thighs.

It didn't take nearly as much sucking and licking for Eden to peak. As aroused as they was. "Oh, God!" Eden moaned as waves of pleasures crashed against them, nearly knocking them into the fire below.

"That nigga ain't fucking you. I am." Brittnee said sharply, before sending a hard smack to Eden's ass.

She must've put the strap on, because the next minute Eden felt their swollen, pussy being stretched to fit around the plastic dick. Their arousal and wetness made penetration easy, as their pussy opened to clasp around the pole. Eden clapped they ass back to meet the slow paces of Brittnee's stroke. Using the muscles in they ass to seamlessly lift and throw it back to meet each blow. The tool massaged their walls and due to the angle their clit as well.

Suddenly Brittnee sped up and Eden was overcome with pleasure. Eden bit down on their lip. Looking back at Brittnee's beautiful concentrated face, made them even more aroused. This entire encounter Eden had been mostly mute but they no longer could keep quiet.

"Fuck me just like that!"Eden tried to keep up, and continued to throw they ass back to meet each stroke. "You like when I throw this wet fucking pussy on you." Brittnee gripped they hair, pulling dem back further on the dick, slicked with Eden's moisture. Eden could no longer keep up and decided to just let Brittnee do all the stroking. But that wasn't enough for Brittnee and she gripped they waist, slamming Eden's ass back on the dick. She was entranced, watching the pink flesh of the strap disappear in Eden's pretty brown pussy. Out of excitement she smacked they ass. Again and again and again. Enjoying the red welts that appeared on Eden's brown skin. Wanting to concentrate on slapping Eden's ass she instructed them to throw they ass back.

“Twerk on this shit.”

“Fuckkkk I can’t.”

Brittnee stilled completely, gripping Eden's hair again, to draw them nearer. "You can do it baby, twerk on me." She kissed they neck sweetly. "Shake that fat ass, mama."

Brittnee sat back on her heels. And her being still made it slightly easier too. Eden hooked they feet under Brittnee's thighs, over her calves.

Then they started throwing their ass back. Damn near putting a New Orleans shaker to shame, they jiggled, twerked, bust it wide open, all on that thick dick. Brittnee laughed. "That's what I'm talmbout, baby." She smacked Eden's ass. "Oou fuck me! Fuck this dick." She couldn't help her enthusiasm and again began lifting her hips up to smash into Eden's wet pussy.

"Wait, wait."

Eden was outta breath, but Brittnee hardly paid that any mind. She pulled out and laid down on her back.

"Ride this dick, hoe!"

Eden didn't hesitate. By now realizing that what Brittnee said, was how shit was finna go.

They left foot was on the tippy toe, positioned underneath Brittnee's arm. Right knee pressing in the bed by her hip. Slowly they pushed they pussy down. Taking a little at a time. Gently and slowly. Until, her dick completely filling them up. Once it was in comfortably they placed the other knee down and rode that shit.

Eden lifted they ass up, using they fingers to stretch they cheeks, ensuring the tip of the dick was positioned at the back of the pussy wall and slid down. Up down up down up down. Eating the dick, like a pair of coochie cutters in a fat nyash. Eden propped they hands on each side of Brittnee's head before clapping they ass on her. They couldn't help moaning as Brittnee leaned up and sucked a hardened nipple into her warm mouth.

Brittnee gripped they throat too. Slightly cutting off air pressure, just enough for them to feel lightheaded, but where they were still able to breath. Eden continued rolling her pussy down on the shit. Only slowing when Brittnee began drilling her gaping hole from underneath. They had never been dicked down like dis.

Fed up of not being in control, Brittnee picked Eden up by they thighs and toppled them over. Laying them on them back.

"Suck me up, baby."

Eden didn't even reply, just opened they mouth. Brittnee moaned as the force from them sliding their mouth on the dick, pressed into her clit. It felt so good as Eden twirled and slid their mouth down the pole with a vengeance.

Brittnee almost fell out, when Eden momentarily lifted the strap to eat her pussy underneath it. Instinctively, she sat down and began to ride Eden's pretty face.

Eden flipped them over. Sensing that their time together was nearing its end. "That's not all I want to do tonight." They said, before Brittnee could protest.

They picked Brittnee's legs up, pushing her knees up into her body. Then mounting her, one leg on each side of her hips. Began riding her. Rubbing their soaked pussies together. They both moaned as their clits met. And Eden reached down to fondle Brittnee's penny,colored nipples. Eden swung her hips, alternating between moving front and back. And in circular motions. They were so close, they didn't want to stop. The bucking and convulsions beneath them indicated that Brittnee was closer. And they sped up. Front, back, left, right, circle, front, back, left, right, circle until they felt her pussy gushing beneath them. Still, Eden continued until they felt their own peak coming. They begin twerking their ass down, smacking their pussies together. Until, finally they collapsed.

"Hmm, baby. That shit was better than any offering I've ever had."

Eden glanced up at Brittnee. Then realized they'd arrived at the gates of the underworld.

"Normally, this is where I drop muthafuckas off." Brittnee said with a grin. "They always asking for more than they can give."

Eden startled, slowly beginning to realize that this experience was not induced by any tab.

This figure stretched on the bed with dem was The Crossroads Man.

Brittnee's long nail traced down Eden's heaving chest. "But if you fuck me like that for all eternity. You can have whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Eden had never been good at making the right decision.

"Whatever you want."

"Deal."

And Eden leaned over to seal it with a kiss.

#ofblkwriters #bbymutha #supernatural #black!reader #sapphic #first post #black!sapphicsmut #kinktober

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pashminalamb · 1 year

Note

Hello!!! How are you feeling? I just wanted to check in. It sounds like you’re kinda stressed out and I just wanted to remind you to take it easy and rest. Cause you know. You’re sick? *gently bonks head* Always remember to take care of yourself before anyone else. And that it’s your writing. You set the pace. You write for whatever reason you want to and no one can say otherwise. Also remember that it’s okay to set boundaries, those are important too. Just in general take care of yourself is what I’m trying to get at here. I hope you feel better soon. ALSO ALSO some of my favorite comfort shows I recommend are Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers, and One Piece. Those are totally not my tops 3 favorite anime/manga of all time pshhhh I have no idea what you’re talking about *whistles*. But seriously though those shows are amazing I was just rewatching Tokyo Revengers the other day. I cant get enough. Anyways. I hope you are blessed with cool pillows, heated blankets, and clear sinuses!!! *sends many virtual hugs, the kind that go squish and are all enveloping and warm*

- ✨ anon

✨ anon !! Hi (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)

I'm doing alright; roomie dropped some chocolates as an apology for getting me sick with their germs

Thank you for your kind and encouraging words *pats head* you're such a sweetheart ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა~ ♡

but yeah I did set boundaries; i'm glad to know that you guys like reading my works and i appreciate the interaction, but i don't wanna answer questions that i've already answered before; besides I know no one likes a good cliifhanger because believe me I KNOW the anxiety and suspense that you're all in and good things will come. Just let me do my magic and go with the flow of it yk?

Spoliers + rant

under the cut cause I cannot contain my love for characters

HAIKYUU!! yeah i love that anime (bokuto was one of my first anime crushes) and those episodes are so nostalgic to me ૮꒰˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶꒱ა (i'm actually remembering that scene where the principal's wig flew off and istg i laughed so hard. people were staring at me but idc)

I was in the middle of watching season 4 and I never got to finish it (i was actually looking forward to the miya twins) but yeah hq boys are so precious ଘ꒰੭˶• ༝ •˶꒱੭

TOKYO REVENGERS!! I liked the anime; since the eps are still in the making, I decided to read the manga and the last thing I remember is the fight between Terano south and Brahman? (if that's the name of the gang) i actually wrote for sanzu and hanma (hanma was probably the most likes i've gotten in the entirety of writing but eh whatevs) as well as the tokrev boys hcs. My fav character has to be Shiba Hakkai (he's baby and sweet. pun intended if you know the manga), Mitsuya (that man is a blessing. srsly.) and i really like the bonten symbols there have been days where i wanna get that tattooed but nvm. Lowkey though I am impressed with Kisaki Tetta. Like that man is so smart. *speechless*

One piece!! Zoro tho. Man ate and left no crumbs. I was actually thinking abt starting it this week (istg i always get interrupted when I'm watching anime)

*sending back bear hugs with a squeeze*

#saint.σ #.lost sheep : ✨ anon

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orpheusredux · 2 years

Text

The Eddies, part 2: Across the multiverse

Fic Summary: It’s been 457 days and seven hours, thirteen minutes and a handful of seconds since he saw her last, but he knows, before he even touches you, that you aren’t her. The universe just doesn’t like him enough to drop his soul mate at his feet like this.

Fic Rating: 18+ only, minors DNI

Pairing: Eddie Munson/you, Eddie Munson/OFC

Warnings: Smut, suggestion of violence against women, family violence - parent against child, assault, angst, hopeful ending

A/N: None of this will make much sense unless you’ve The Eddies - Part 1. It also jumps back and forwards in time a little, until the past catches up with the events in The Eddies part 1, so it might seem a little hard to follow at first, but by the time you get to the end it will all become clear. I wrote this follow up after some folks asked for more Eddie with short hair with the reader. I didn’t really know how I could manage that without telling more of a story about how he got to be the broken guy I was trying to write in that story. Classic me: I started out wanting to write a lighthearted romp based on all the pictures of the Eddie wardrobe and wig tests going round, but then I was listening to a lot of Lana Del Rey and feeling really sad about everything and suddenly I got this real biker Romeo and Juliette vibe and so this is what came out. A lot of it is sad and vicious, but I feel like it ends on a hopeful note. I also added a bit of a nod to The Bear, because I got it in my head that if my short haired Eddie exists in any universe, it’s one where working in a restaurant will break your dick and give you PTSD. The fact everyone is smiling in the edit above is meant to be ironic.

Fic paylist: Across the Multiverse

It’s been 457 days and seven hours, thirteen minutes and a handful of seconds since he saw her last, but he knows, before he even touches you, that you aren’t her.

The universe just doesn’t like him enough to drop his soul mate at his feet like this.

Eddie pulled the carburetor out of the 84 Chrysler and ran a rag over it to see what he was up against. It was a mess, but he reckoned he had one he could replace it with lying around somewhere. The lean-to behind his trailer was piled high with bits of the cars he’d boosted, cracked and stripped. There’d be something in here that worked.

It was hot out, so the roller was up, and Eddie had stripped down to his vest. The top of his blue overalls were pulled down around his waist, the arms tied in front to keep them up. Sweat rolled down his back, prickling on his skin the seconds after a tattooist lifts the needle. He squeezed his shoulders together and cracked his neck. He got like this sometimes, a tightness in his gut and between his shoulders that told him to watch out. Last time had been when - when she left. Time before that he’d ended up in County for six months; and the time before that was his Mom died. His dad ending up in the Pen, meeting Donny, breaking his wrist when he was 15; all these points in his life were associated with the same slick, prickling sensation that felt physical, but really wasn’t. His mom had always called him a sensitive boy. He figured this is what she meant.

He stuck his head out the roller door and looked up the lane towards the highway. Rick had the local sheriff, Hopper, in his back pocket, so the lean-to was about as safe as a felon could get in this town. But every now and then Hopper got the hump, and had to stretch his legs a little. He’d rough a couple of the boys up, make them spend a couple of nights in choky. Then Rick would breeze in, blow smoke up his ass, ply him with some of that good quality Brown he liked, and things would go back to normal. Hopper would look the other way while the Tomahawks did what Tomahawks do - a little light B&E, a touch of grand theft auto, some mild dealing.

With the way he was feeling, Eddie had half expected to see a couple of cherry tops cruising his way, but the only thing in the lane was the dust and a little heat haze - unusual for this time of year, sure, but hardly the kind of thing that usually triggered that weird spidey sense for danger he had.

The screen door on the trailer banged, and Eddie half jumped out of his skin. Spinning on his heel he saw Rick, his hands cupped around the cigarette he was lighting, grinning his three tooth grin.

“What’s got you so jumpy,” he asked, shaking out the match and flicking the dead head into the weeds.

“The fuck you been?” Eddie flipped him the bird and ducked back into the shade of the lean to, calling out as he went.

“Donny’s kid’s coming in from LA,” Rick replied as he walked into the lean-to seconds later.

Eddie nodded, grabbed the dirty cloth from the hood of the car, and started scrubbing at the grease on his hands. If he had a best friend, it was probably Rick, but the fact he was hearing this news from him reminded him Rick was something else too - his keeper.

“College? Or the one in choky?”

“College,” Rick said, kicking an abandoned tire. “Needs collecting from Indianapolis.”

“OK?” Eddie felt another bead of sweat roll between his shoulder blades. If he relaxed, he’d be twitching like a tweaker.

“Asked you to do it. Since you’re family an’ all.”

He wasn’t blood kin, but “family” was what you called a guy who’d been jumped in. Family was Tomahawk.

“OK.”

It was a three day trip, there and back - if he didn’t fuck around. He could take the van, rather than the bike, so they wouldn’t have to stay in a motel. Weather this warm, he could sleep on a bedroll outside.

He lay down the creeper and pushed himself into the stifling hot darkness under the car and almost immediately pushed himself back out.

“I’ll do it,'' he told Rick’s ankles, and didn’t wait for a reply before pushing himself back under again.

Even if he hadn’t known on sight, the superficial stuff would have clued him in eventually. Your hair is a little blonder, your cut-offs a little shorter, you don’t chew your nails, your voice is pitched a little lower, and when you look at him, it doesn’t feel like you can see his heart beating, right inside his chest.

The thing that hits him - and hurts him - though, is that you just seem lighter, unburdened, even if you are a little frazzled after falling out of what Eddie can only describe as a giant, gnarly pussy on the ceiling of - where is he? Is this his - his trailer in Hawkins? What the fuck is going on?

The airport was loud after a day and a half on the road alone. The traffic, loud speakers, shouting; on the road, he’d just had his thoughts, which were loud enough. He’d spent the night lying awake in the back of the van - a goddamned oven in that heat - staring at the ceiling. He was fucking amazed Smokey hadn’t come snooping round a beat up old panel van parked on the side of the road. The license plate was clean, but didn’t belong to the van, so anyone getting real interested would know something was up straight away. Apparently Smokey was on holiday that week, so he’d made it to the airport no problem and now here he was sitting in a parking garage watching the clock on the dash.

At 2pm, he walked to the arrival gate to wait - briefly considered making one of those phony pick up signs, “car for Miss…”, thought that would make her laugh, but he couldn’t write for shit. Instead he just stood where he could be seen, leaning on the wall, picking at his teeth with his switchblade like a fucking psycho - at least he figured that’s what he looked like, based on the number of people giving him a wide berth.

She came through the gate at about 2:25, lugging a suitcase almost as big as she was, her long hair falling like waves around her shoulders, and Eddie felt that prickling along his spine go deeper, right in behind his heart, like a thousand tiny cell-sized knives being plunged into him. He’d spent the entire drive up thinking about how he’d be when he saw her again, what he’d say, how Clint fucking Eastwood he was going to be about it. But it all went out the window when she looked up, straight into his eyes, and he saw the recognition flash there.

She dropped her bag, almost threw it aside, and ran at him. He stuffed the knife in his back pocket and held out his arms as she jumped, catching her round her waist and under her bare thigh, up high, where her cut offs met her ass.

“Thank fuck,” she breathed, face pressed into his shoulder, her arms tight around his neck. “Thank fuck.”

He was almost bowled over by it, by the warm-soft joy of her, lighter than air, in his arms.

“I didn’t even say your name when I called him. I didn’t even dare,” she said, breathless. “Thought he’d send Gareth or, God help me, Rick. Two days in a car with Rick, can you imagine? No fuckin’ thank you.”

He let her down gently, not releasing her till her feet were on the ground, then he turned and picked up her bag - Jesus, it was heavy, full of the books she fed that big brain of hers. He was glad to carry it as it meant he couldn’t, wouldn’t be able to, touch her, but she grabbed his free hand and hung on anyway.

Walking back to the van, he let her rabbit in about school, her finals, her room mate who was simultaneously “the fucking best” and “absolutely the worst”, and about coming home for Spring Break instead of going to Cancun with her friends.

The slow, silky timbre of her voice washed over Eddie like a wave. He felt knots in muscles he didn’t even know he had unspooling like fishing line; the way her hands moved endlessly, darting through the air like lures, her eyes glittering like hooks in the water.He felt each glance, each smile she flicked his way snag in his heart and yank him forward. How long till he landed on her shore? How long till he was laid out, gasping for breath, begging for the blunt force trauma that would put him out of his misery?

Eddie felt her gently knock her shoulder into his.

“So, how did you swing it? Two days on the road together.”

He dropped his head, trying hard to shake off the tight feeling between his shoulder blades.

“He said it was a family job.”

They grabbed the rest of her luggage and made their way back to the parking garage.

“Eddie? Did you hear what I said?”

Eddie had not in fact heard what she’d said. He’d been in dream land. He shook his head, blinked.

“Sorry, I was - I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Motel beds, huh? Dreaming of me?”

“No,” he’d answered, faster and more emphatically than he’d meant to. “I slept in the van. Figured you could do that tonight.”

He didn’t look at her to see what she thought of the idea of sleeping in the back of the van. But when she didn’t reply, just took hold of his hand again, he figured he understood clearly enough. After a couple of seconds, Eddie gently shook his hand loose. He’d have done it sooner, but he really was tired, and it had felt good.

“There’s been a blip,” a loud, strange looking kid tells him, before launching into some science bullshit Eddie can’t get his head round. All he knows is that one minute he was standing on a street corner considering boosting the 87 Camaro he’d just seem park outside the starbucks, the next he was here, covered in snot, looking a four - wait, five - guys who look just like him but really fucking aren’t.

And then there’s you, you look just like her but really fucking aren’t, too. He helps you to your feet and the second you’re standing, one of the other…Eddies… grabs you by the arm and pulls you into the kitchen.

He drove for longer than was probably safe, considering the night he’d had before. She sat beside him, sideways in the passenger seat, her knees pulled up, swapping out his tapes, singing along - “DJing,” she called it - demanding he play guess the tune and stopping the tapes after a few seconds. Anyone else would have gotten a clip round the ear for treating his tapes like that, but his rules didn’t apply to her. She’d never obeyed a single one anyway, not since the first day he’d met her.

When he couldn’t put it off a minute more, he pulled into a truck stop with a diner and parked up right next to the tree line. It was sometime around midnight, hot and noisy with big rigs coming and going, and the interstate just a couple of hundred feet away. But he figured he’d be OK on his bed roll under the trees; figured he wouldn’t get run over by a half-asleep trucker in the middle of the night. As soon as the van was in park she climbed down, and he’d tried hard not to stare as she stretched, the vest she was wearing rode up, exposing the soft rounded whiteness of her belly.

“I gotta pee,” she said, scratching her thigh.

“Don’t be long,” Eddie called as she walked off towards the diner. He watched her walk away, the slow, sweet swing of her hips in those cut offs was mesmerizing - didn’t think she had half a clue she was even doing it.

He opened the back, grabbed his bedroll and a sleeping bag, and rolled them out under the stars. There was a mattress in back, he’d put clean sheets on it and taken his best pillow off his own bed for her. She’d be comfortable. And since he was outside, she’d be safe enough to leave the windows down, so she wouldn’t roast in there. Satisfied he’d made it as comfortable as he could for her, he lay down in the half dark, and waited for her to come back, but he was exhausted and it wasn’t even ten minutes before he was out like a light.

He’d have stayed asleep, too, if something hadn’t smashed into his ankle and woken him up.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off the guy. He’d always wanted to grow his hair out, but in the crowd he ran with it’d have been suicide. And yet here he was, with long hair four times over.

As the day wears on Eddie realizes there are other things this long-haired Eddie, this kid, has that he’s always wanted. This trailer is his uncles, from what he can gather. He don’t boost cars for a living, neither, he’s in fucking high school.

Then he has to stand there and watch you cup this guy’s cheek and smooth your thumb under his eye and whisper something soft and sweet.

For a few seconds Eddie knows rage, bright and hot, like nothing he’s ever felt before. Rage, so incandescent she gave him, unfolds it, and digs the blade into his gum. He leans into the pain, let’s it wash over him, clean and white and ice cold.

“What the fuck,” he said sitting bolt upright.

“What do you mean, ‘what the fuck’? What the fuck are you doing out here?” she said, voice slightly shrill.

Eddie squinted, blinking up at stadium style lights above the truck stop. The light behind her made her hair glow like a halo. She had a couple of cokes in one hand and a bag of what, if the grease staining the paper was anything to go by, were probably truck stop burgers in the other.

“You’re not sleeping in the fucking dirt, while I’m in there,” she said, gesturing to the back of the van. “It’s a double mattress, for fuck’s sake.”

“Donny - Ow, fucking’ quit it,” Eddie cried when she kicked at him again.

She looked forlornly into the back of the van. Even annoyed she looked so fucking beautiful, the little crease in her brow, the way she just wasn’t scared of him - wasn’t scared of anything; the way she knew exactly what he wanted because she wanted it too. It terrified him. They couldn’t, could not, go on like this. Someone was going to get hurt. She was going to get hurt and then he would have to…he’d have to…If anything happened to her, he’d burn the whole fucking world to the ground and himself with it.

Before he could finish the thought, she nudged him with her foot.

“Please, Eddie,” she’d said.

Something snapped inside him. He clambered out of the bed clothes and barrelled her up against the side of the van. She’d laughed at first, then she’d seen the look on his face.

“What did you think? What the fuck did you think, Princess?” Eddie said, gripping her jaw in one hand, his other hand bruisingly tight around her bicep.

The prickling down his spine - inside his spine - intensified. It felt like if he looked down he’d see hundreds of tiny holes in his chest weeping blood, right where his heart should be. A wave of nausea washed over him, but he had to make her see, had to make her understand this wasn’t safe - he wasn’t safe. She wasn’t safe with him. He shook her, once, hard and sharp. One of the coke bottles slipped from between her fingers onto the asphalt and smashed.

“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie said, biting out the words. “Did you think Daddy sent me so we could have a good time?”

“Eddie…” Her eyes had gone wide with shock. He could see himself reflected in them.

“You think I want my nuts nailed to the black top? My throat cut - your throat cut? You’re Donny’s fucking daughter.”

“Eddie,” she said, her voice small but steady. “You’re hurting me.”

Like a bucket of water over his head, her words made him jerk back. What the fuck was he doing? He stepped away from her.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry,” he said, hating how feeble it sounded after what he’d just done. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and turned his back on her. “Jesus - look at what he makes me do. Look at what he’s turned me into.”

Her hand on his back made him flinch, but she didn’t stop, just pressed in closer, pressed her warm, soft body along his cold, aching one, her cheek against his shoulder. Comfort and strength and love.

“After you left,” Eddie said, when he had control of his voice again, “He said it would be good for me to know you were going somewhere I could never, ever follow. He said - He said he wouldn’t let you get ruined by someone like me. As if that's - As if I wanted to…”

“Look, my Dad…”

“Your dad is a fucking psychopath,” Eddie said in a rush. “God forgive me - your dad would fucking kill us both before he’d let me - us… you know that, right? You know it? This, this road trip, this is his fucking idea of a test.”

Her arms came around his waist then, and she hugged him hard.

“But, you know why, Eddie,” she said, softly, gently, like she didn’t want to spook him. “You know why? He knows what I know, that you’re ten times, a thousand times the man he’ll ever be. He’s scared of you, Eddie; he’s scared of us.”

Eddie felt his chest burst open, all his insides spilling out onto the asphalt, his heart thumping painfully as it bounced around on the blood slick ground. Then he opened his eyes and looked down to see not carnage, but his hands in her hands, his arms entwined in her arms, so wrapped up in one another he could hardly tell where she ended and he began, like they were one fantastical being, a many armed god of destruction. Kali of the Truck Stop.

“I thought I was dying when you left,” he whispered. “I had to keep boosting cars, and making nice with him, with Rick. Thought about going to Hopper, turning narc. But I knew he’d get to you before I could. It felt like I’d been cored out. There wasn’t anything left in me.”

“I know, baby,” she whispered, flattening her palm against the cavity where his heart should be. “I know, I felt it too.”

He turned, and put his hands on her shoulders, slid them up to wrap around her throat. She held his wrists, and he felt how fragile she was, how slight and thin skinned and delicate. He pushed her back against the side of the van again, gently this time, away from the truck stop lights, into the shadows, and pressed himself against her. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, but she held his gaze, defiant.

“Do you think I came back to see him?” She said, “I know what my father is. I know what you are. You’re part of my fucking soul, you dumb piece of shit.”

She squirmed against him, reached up and wrapped her own hands around his throat.

She tilted her face to his and he gave in, pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her waiting lips, pushed out his tongue to meet hers. There was no finesse, just spit, and need and the soft velvet of her tongue in his mouth where it belonged.

Who the fuck was Donny to keep her from him? Who the fuck?

He pulled back, and she made a keening, animal sound; disappointed and desperate. He pressed his forehead to hers. They were panting together, like dogs in heat.

“Get in the fucking van,” Eddie breathed.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s pretty sure there’s no way you’ll go somewhere private to a talk with him, so when he sees his chance to get you alone, he fucking takes it.

It’s not until he has you barrelled up against the bathroom cabinet that he realizes how badly he’s misjudged this. You are fucking terrified - defiant - but terrified.

He holds his hands up and pulls back from you. Tells you he’s not going to hurt you, even though he knows you won’t believe him.

Eddie had grown up Tomahawk. His dad had been in, his granddad before him, too. He’d been one of the founding members right after the war. It was a bit like being in a pack of dogs - you wore your status like a pelt. Scaring the normies was part of the fun.

It had always made her laugh when he got rowdy in the supermarket, or started a fight in a bar over some made up slight against her. She liked the drama, liked being manhandled, expected it.

But you are not that woman.

They reached for each other in the half-dark, hands and bodies colliding, but once he was touching her he could see everything clearly.

He slipped the string straps of her camisole off her shoulders, baring her breasts and he bent his mouth to her like a starving man, sucking and biting his way across her sternum from one soft peak to the other.

“Do you love me?” She whispered in dark, and he could feel her shivering despite the heat.

“Do you even have to ask?” Eddie whispered back, “I never stopped. I’ll never stop,” and he sucked her pebbled nipple between his lips again.

Keening, she wrapped her arms around his head, back arched, holding his mouth in place.

“God, I’ve missed your mouth so much,” she said, tugging on his hair. “Kiss me, baby, I want your tongue again.”

As they kissed, he scrambled to unbutton her cut offs and push them down her thighs. She wriggled, trying to help without dislodging his mouth from hers. It was frantic, desperate. She bit his lip, and sucked searing kisses along his jaw.

He watched her copy him, biting and licking her way across his chest to his flat nipples. There was something almost lewd about the way she suckled on him like he’d done to her, the way he wanted to hold her there, like a nursing mother holding her baby. His cock was pressed hard against the steel teeth of his zipper and he honestly believed that little pinch was the only thing stopping him from creaming himself like he had the first time she ever touched him, when they were just kids.

When he couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed her back roughly, grabbing and moving her thighs, her ass, til she whined, til she was spread out for him. Then he dealt with the rest of his clothes, eyes fixed on the juncture of her thighs where she touched herself as she watched him undress.

He could smell her sex - that sweet, fatty, moreish smell he’d once thought he caught in his bedroom, long after she’d moved away; the one that he snuffled through his bedclothes in search of, only to wind up lying face down in his sheets screaming his frustration into a dirty pillow that almost - almost - tasted like her. Now here was being offered that sweet, ripe fruit for real - not in a dream, not in some sad, lonely fantasy, but real and fresh and creamy pink.

When he forced her knees back, her pussy opened for him like a ripe peach torn apart by eager thumbs.

Eddie smoothing his hands down her inner thighs, massaging the shivering muscle till he was framing her sex with his thumbs and forefingers.

“Eddie,” she whined, canting her hips. “Please.”

He nodded, dropped down onto his elbows and buried his face in her core, pressing the broad, wet, flat of his tongue through her folks and inside, deep as he could get, until she was all but writhing under him. Her feet,toes curled, slapped against his shoulders, her fingers threaded into his hair and she held on as he sucked her clit, bit it and hummed against; as she bucked against his face.

“Oh - oh fuck,” she cried. “Like that, yes. Just like that.”

In a little while he felt her thighs shaking. He pulled back, but only long enough to stuff her full of his fingers, two first, then three. She was so wet, sopping and open. Every little sound she made went straight to his cock, made him rut against the mattress until he had to stop and lift his hips till the feeling he was going to nut any second backed down.

He felt her get impossibly wetter, and wanted her to come like this, on his tongue, spread out for him. He pushed a fourth finger into her cunt, slowly at first, then harder, and felt her clench down on his hand, felt her all but jackknife up from the mattress.

She was silent as she came, the agony of it shining from her face, her mouth a perfect O, eyes clenched shut. At the end, she sounded like she was choking.

“Eddie,” she called, like her heart was breaking. “Edd-ieee.”

“That’s my girl. That’s it,” he said, pulling off her clit with a pop. “Take my fucking fist, that’s my girl.”

When she could speak again, she said, “Come here. God, hold me, please.”

He sank down next to her, hissing when his cock touched the mattress, and pulled her against his body.

She was shivering, he pulled the sheet out from under then and wrapped then both up in it.

“I - I tried to touch myself while I was away,” she whispered, still so intimate, “but it was too - I just missed you too much. I’d end up fucking crying.”

He could see there were unshed tears in her eyes even now.

“I just wanted this,” she said, brushing a stray curl back from his brow and clinging to him. “I didn’t want anything else.”

“All those rich college boys, the parties,” he asked, leaning down to kiss his glistening neck. “You never?”

“Why the fuck would I let one of them near me after you? There’s only ever been you, Eddie.”

He shifted over her, and she reached down to take hold of his cock, sliding her thumb up the thick vein there, to the spongey mushroom head.

Eddie hissed, clenched his eyes shut, grit his teeth.

“I only ever want you,” she breathed as she guided his cock into her.

It was almost like breathing, in, out, in and out, involuntary, necessary, compelled by some force he barely recognised. After only a few strokes, he could feel his orgasm building, not just in his balls, but in his groin, in his solar plexus, behind his eyes. Every stroke was like a hot wire, from his cock, through his balls, his asshole, his stomach, to his heart. He heard someone sobbing, gasping, muffled and far away, and it took him long, hot seconds to realize it was him, gasping into her neck as she cooed to him, and stroked every bit of his skin she could reach, smoothing her hands over him, urging him on.

“That’s it baby,” she purred. “Fill me up, God. Make me feel it.”

He felt her squeezing down on him, raising her hips to meet his. Then he heard the breath catch in her chest.

“Mmhmmm,” he purred back, straight into her ear. “Knew you I could get you there again. Knew you had another one in you. That’s it. Take it, yeah? Take my cock.”

They chased it together, until Eddie couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m gonna come, baby. Come with me, yeah?” He pushed himself up, his hands on either side her, above her shoulders, and watched his body entering her over and over, watched her tits bounce and sway with every thrust.

She grabbed her hair, the blanket underneath them, her nipples hard. She bit her lip, and grabbed the backs of her own knees, opening herself wider.

Eddie groaned. “Come on my cock, baby. Come on my cock. Please. Just let go. Let it go for me.”

His orgasm lanced through him, and everything went white and pink behind his clenched eyelids. A few seconds later he felt her go rigid around him, her arms and legs locking.

In High School, he’d once heard some nerds call it “the little death”. He’d thought that was a fucking stupid way to describe something that had always made him feel like he was finally alive. But here, tonight, in the back of the van, with the condensation dripping from the walls and the ceiling onto your searing hot skin, he understood what it meant.

There was no more her and him, there was only the perfect flow of love and sex between two lobes of the same brain, two valves of the same heart. If he never fucked another woman again as long as he lived, he wouldn’t care. He’d been born again, lived and died in her cunt tonight. Nothing else mattered.

Eddie was still inside her when the van doors were wrenched open.

Even though you’re terrified, you don’t back down, you don’t give in.

You’re just like that version of himself out there, the one he’d seen you kissing

He doesn’t have a scar where his lover’s father tried to cut his face off. He’s never just fucking lain there and watched you being dragged across the asphalt by your hair, half undressed, screaming for him. He’s never felt Rick’s boot on the back of his neck, heard his voice hiss, “for Christ’s sake, son, stay the fuck down”, and just fucking done that.

No, that guy’s fought for you. That guy deserved you.

Later, Eddie remembered white and red flashes as something connected with the side of his head, muffled screaming and a vivid picture in his mind of her shoe sitting empty in the middle of the parking lot.

For months afterwards the image of that shoe would pop in his head and it would be like he was there again, sweating and shaking, and begging for her life from her own goddamned father.

Please don’t hurt her, please don’t. I made her. I forced her. It’s not her fault.

He had a broken his eye socket and three broken ribs, one of which had punctured his lung.

He’d been cut - bad, and they’d broken three fingers on his right hand.

Doctor told him he’d never play guitar again, but all Eddie had heard was that he’d never boost a car again. He was well and truly fucked if that was the case.

When Rick walked into the hospital room to find Eddie conscious, the first thing he’d said was, “Don’t ask. She’s alive, but as far as you’re concerned, she might as well not be.”

Then he told him that Donny and his boys had been following him the whole time, had even been in the airport when he’d met her flight. “You were fucked from the start,” Rick had said. “Nothing you could have done to stop it.”

He remembers the nurse rushing in as he leant over the edge of the bed puking; feeling his stitches tear; feeling like he couldn’t pass out from the pain fast enough.

When he blipped back, it was to Rick’s boat house of all the fucking places, under a tarp on a fucking dinghy. Rick had been working on his outboard at the time and Eddie popping up had just about given the old bastard a heart attack.

Eddie’s side was still warm where you’d been sleeping against him, he could still feel the curl of your hair against his fingers. His heart still hurt, but it beat a little differently now, a little calmer, a little more regular.

The space between his shoulders felt loose, too, like it’d unclenched for the first time in years.

He’d scrambled to his feet, patted himself down and realized the knife was gone, but in its place was a scrap of paper with your hand writing on it.

“Be at peace, baby,” it it said, with four kisses and the recipe for that fucking pizza stuff you’d fed him.

He tells Rick a long rambling story and by the end he’s still not sure the guy believes a word; not sure he doesn’t think it’s just some ruse to find out where she is, even though it’s been a couple of years since Eddie had tried anything like that.

Eddie doesn’t think he ever will again - doesn’t know if he needs to now he has this sense of how many times the universe has thrown you and him - him and her - together and how often Eddie - another Eddie, sure, but and Eddie all the same - gets to live his life with you - her - in it.

“Hey,” he asks Rick later, when he’s given up trying to convince him of anything, and the pair of them are just sitting there getting blazed like the old days instead. “What was the name of that cousin of yours, runs that sandwich shop in Chicago?”

“Who, Carmy?” Rick says, nonplussed. “Fucking five star chef, chucked it all to run a goddamned beef sandwich shop. He’s an idiot. But the shop’s doing OK.”

“Yeah?” Eddie replies, unfolding the recipe again and looking over the deceptively simple ingredients. “I was thinking I need a change of pace. Reckon he might need a bus boy?”

#eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #orpheus writes #rating: nc17

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dramaticdads · 2 years

Text

Excerpts from the journals of the Oak family - Part 1: Hildy Russet

So I listened to At the Mountain of Dadness and haven’t stopped thinking about it since, so now I’m making that everyone else’s problem. More parts are in the works with other characters as the main focus.

Word count: 2183

CW: Horror elements, deterioating mind, death, eldritch/lovecraftian horror things, unhappy cryptic ending

Summary: Excerpts from the journal of Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender.

From the journal of Hildy Russet

Year: 1939???

The name’s Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender, and just a few days ago I thought I was dead. Hell, I ain’t even certain it was days and not years or some bananas measurement of time beyond my comprehension. I’m writing this from a forest that’s out of this world! Literally and figuratively speaking.

I’m doubtful this piece of writing will ever reach anyone but myself, but I’ve been taking frequent pictures like the newshawk I am, and I’ve been intending on trying to describe them even though I’m not sure developing film’s even possible around here. I’ve been asking myself the question – Would I even want to see the pictures I took right before I came here? When they appear in my mind I can sometimes pretend I just imagined them, and even just that makes me quite the jitterbug these days. Either way, the sound of the camera calms me, and don’t get me wrong and assume there ain’t things worth recording here! I could go on for weeks about a few days of wandering. I swear, whenever I think of it it feels like I’m on the gigglejuice, because it sounds like such boloney that just hearing it would blow your wig off!

But I’m just bumping gums now. To summarize what got me here, it’s hard to remember. Or well, perchance it’s just hard to think about. There was a being, noises that gave me a headache and made me feel like my brain was made of helium. People in black and white hues that indicated the front-page story of the century. And yet, a large chunk of it is fuzzy to me, covered in some kind of mental static. A creature cooled Mr. Streep right in front of my eyes, bashing his head in in a horrifying image that has yet to disappear from my nightmares. I’m starting to doubt it ever will.

It was as if I was sucked into something. Like a tornado whisking me and the building I was in, away to Oz. My, it sounds completely bats to describe it as so, but I’d compare it to nothing less, if only it had been more pleasant than what it was. You may say my head’s no longer screwed on right, and I wouldn’t say you were wrong, but it seems I’ve reached my very own Oz, only more expansive than anything little Dorothy could possibly have travelled through.

Needless to say, I was quite punchy after the ordeal. As I looked outside, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this wasn’t anywhere near Tennessee, and my surroundings and memories appeared equally like a distant dream. I left the building crawling on all fours because I was certain standing would make me barf. I wasn’t sure for how long I’d been knocked out but there was nothing living left in the building and if there were bodies, I’ve blocked them from my memory long ago. I couldn’t stand to be in the building for a second longer than I had to, and the entirely unfamiliar surroundings were somehow less hard to look at. I futzed around on the forest floor for what might’ve been hours, and I don’t dare to think of the sorry state I was in.

I would likely have stayed passive like some crumb had I not been forced onto my feet by a hell of a sight that would’ve surprised me more had it not been for the events prior. I initially thought it was a bear. A bear would’ve been reason enough to run off, but as I got another look at its face, I noticed a beak of a small bird and feathers coating its chest in place of plain fur! It was much like a mix of an owl and a bear – hell, some kind of owl bear. And so, dear likely non-existent reader, you must know that I just had to bring out my camera for the first time in God knows how long. You must understand that this was the sort of thing that would’ve made headlines had it been photographed in the deep forests of America. You might think me a fool, as I’d seen worse things at this point that were much more difficult to comprehend, but I think that might have been one of the causes for my excitement. So, I found my beat-up ensign camera and shot a picture. The flash was bright enough to surprise myself, and the noise was louder than I remembered it to be, and soon enough the beast had its beak turned towards me, and as an experienced reporter, I knew it was time for me to run.

And what a rush it was to run after all that time! Blood was rushing through my veins, and I finally felt like I had a heart with all the adrenaline pumping into it like some bean shooter! That sensation is described a little too literally I’m afraid because I doubled over in abdominal pain before I got far enough away. Yet before I had the chance to play with the idea of not surviving the encounter, I heard a voice more calming and smoother than the voice of Louis Prima himself! As I turned my head I saw, not an angry bear-owl of a beast, but instead a tall man. Or well, he seemed like a man for all intents and purposes. He was taller than most men I’d seen before, was snazzy as can be, and carried himself with a sort of otherworldly serenity. He wore some tunic in all sorts of green shades as if he was plucked right out of medieval times. And it may sound like I’m making this up (much like everything else in this entry), but I swear he was speaking to the beast in a tongue I’d never heard! It was as if he was the creature’s friend, and I was so transfixed by the beauty of the scene that I barely noticed him approaching me.

The first thing I noticed once he got closer was his ears. I don’t mean that in an impolite way! He was with a lack of a better word handsome as hell! His ears were sharper than those on your average Joe, yet another sign that he was not entirely human, but it was not inhuman and uncanny in the way I’d almost grown used to expecting. Then he spoke to me, in what seemed like plain English which surprised me, and he asked me if I was alright. It was the first words anyone had spoken to me plainly since the screams and hectic sentences exchanged during the final battle, and before I knew it, I was sobbing in the stranger’s arms. He didn’t shove me away. Instead, he let me stay like that for a while, and it was what I needed after all that hoo-ha, I guess.

I must’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, and he commented on my strange style eventually. I explained as much of the situation as I could make sense of at the time, and the gentleman immediately told me more about where I was. As had been my suspicion, I had somehow reached another world. I still don’t know what this world is called, but I ain’t so sure it’s possible for me to leave it. Either way, the man told me his name and brought me to a nifty little cabin in the woods where he offered to let me get some rest in a bed. Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted him willy-nilly, but I was so exhausted that my desire for rest overpowered any reasonable bone in my body. Fortunately, this really was a good man, because hours later I awoke to a delicious breakfast including some berries I’d never seen before. They were extremely good!

Since then, the man has been showing me around. I’ve taken plenty of pictures, and I don’t think my trust in him is misplaced. I’m starting to think this other world ain’t so bad, and every new sight excites me.

There’s been a strange simmering around my wrist. It concerns me, but I think it might just be a lingering injury from the journey to this world. I can’t help but feel as if it connects to something deeper inside me, however.

____________________

Year: One winter since my arrival

We spent the day together in the village. It faintly reminds me of where I grew up. Once we made it to the cabin, he grew a flower with his magic, and I snapped a picture of it. He placed it in my hair, and I felt nice, warm, and comfortable. He told me he’d fallen in love with me, and I told him I already knew.

I never thought I’d experience something that simple after everything.

____________________

Non-dated entry

There’s a static in my head, like incorrectly developed film, grainy and red. Calling. Reaching. I want to grasp it in my dreams and let it out into the world like a scream. It’s as natural as my blood and it’s beautiful and horrifying all at once. I can’t understand it, I don’t know if I want to, but I want it to be free.

It scares me, so I try not to linger on it.

____________________

Year: Two winters since my arrival

The wedding was the best day I’ve ever had. Quite the scoop, the elf and the human from another world. There were many flowers, and our new home is perfect and cozy. I miss my record player. It was strangely one of the first things I missed, and it’s even more obvious now that I cannot play recorded music in our home. I’d love to play him “’Long about midnight” because describing it isn’t nearly enough. I sing it to him, sometimes, and he says he likes that.

____________________

Year: Three winters since my arrival

We’ve named our son Barry. A beautiful little kid.

I saw something in his eyes. Grainy and red. Faltering.

I hope he’ll have a happy life. I’ll be there for it, of course.

Static. I think I saw static.

I’ll keep him safe. Of course, I will.

____________________

Year: Six winters since my arrival

Barry is a talented boy. He knows magic beyond his years. It’s not like I know much, I’m a bit of a twit about these things still, but I can tell his father is proud of him. I am too.

I love Barry so much.

I feel like something strange is happening to me. I keep seeing Meryl’s death over and over again, and the scream is mixing in with something else. Calling out to me. I saw Barry reaching for my hand, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was reaching for something else.

He’s strong. A perfect boy. Even if something tried to eat him up from inside, he’d contain it.

What do I mean by that?

I’m so tired.

____________________

Year: Seven winters since my arrival

I tell them stories about my world sometimes. It feels nice to think of it. Of my childhood. Of the articles I wrote, even if they were never published. I was only a cub reporter, but I’ve seen a lot of things still.

I’ve seen so many things.

Why am I thinking about them now?

Barry likes the stories. It must be interesting to have origins from another world that you’ve never seen, so I’ve told him as much as I can remember. I miss earth. I miss the music. I’ve sung him lullabies from back then, but I keep forgetting the words.

Barry is a special boy and I have no doubt he’ll do something great one day.

My husband is worried. He says I’m distant. I know I’m distant. Why am I distant?

____________________

Non-dated entry

My world is gone. It was taken in the crossfire. I’ve crossed the worlds and I’m all that’s left. I think I’m all that’s left. There’s nothing else it can take.

The remains are in my camera.

Should I burn it? Maybe I should burn it.

It’s all I have.

This world is so beautiful but it isn’t mine. This family is so beautiful but it

It’s mine. I’m a mother. I’m a wife.

I’m Hildy Russet of the San Dimas Defender.

I wish there was someone to read this. I wish I could tell them.

I saw them die.

____________________

Non-dated entry

I hope you see it one day, Barry. It’s beautiful. A wonderland through a looking glass.

____________________

Non-dated entry

I gave my camera to my husband. I don’t know if I should’ve done that.

I don’t think I can look at my own son anymore. I love him. I want him to be happy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I wonder where I’ll go when I die.

____________________

Non-dated entry

They close the windows and they dim the light

To hide their doings from a stranger's sight;

Everything is going right,

'Long about midnight.

#dungeons & daddies #dndads #at the mountain of dadness #amod #hildy russet #dndads hildy russet #fic #dndads fanfiction #in which hildy has some sauce but in like a sad way #also how obvious is it that I had three tabs of 30s slang open for this

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