#book personal ads in newspaper

[newspaper-advertisement]

releaseMyAd is here to help you book your personal advertisement in any Indian newspapers of your choice.

[cheer-nympho]

Steve was always being brushed off when he asked people to read things aloud for him,

In middle school his assigned partner for their ‘Frankenstein’ project gave him a scornful glare and ignored him when he had asked them to read the passages aloud.

In his sophomore year, he’d turned to ask Robin Buckley to read a old newspaper article about the ‘Wild West’ to him, because he couldn’t make it out through the fonts and weird words. She had fixed him with a cold look but before she could respond, Tammy was tapping his shoulder offering her help.

Then, while studying with Nancy and Barb at lunch, Steve had asked for help reading study cards. His own study cards. The paper was too bright and the squiggles too squiggly. Both of them had looked at him, them each other, clearly trying to decide if it was a joke.

Barb had scoffed under Nancys pointed look and gone back to her own notes. And while Nancy hadn’t read them out for him, she had handed him her own notes on some nice blue and yellow cards. It took him a while, but he could read them. Maybe she thought he hadn’t wrote any.

After that, he went a long time without asking anyone to read him things. Turns out that once you graduate, reading isn’t much of an issue. He’d gotten by just fine by looking at his Archie comics and ignoring the swirling lines of articles surrounding them.

He didn’t need to ask again until Scoops Ahoy. For a cheap, overly themed ice cream parlour there sure was a whole lot of memorising and reading to be done. He couldn’t see the charts properly, couldn’t really make out the dates on the tubs in the freezer. But every time he asked Robin for help, her frown would deepen and deepen until she just snapped. It hadn’t been that mean, really. Just an annoyed yell followed by accusations of being lazy, her not understanding how he managed to graduate, one last comment of him being a ‘bumbling idiot’.

After the Russians, she never said anything like that to him again. And she always did the inventory and lists for him.

It takes until summer, 1987, for anyone to read aloud to Steve. They were laying across Eddie’s new bed in comfortable silence.

Steve had his legs dangling off the edges as Eddie leant back against him, legs pointing up against the wall in a way he swore was actually comfortable. He had been reading a new book called “Spellfire” and he couldn’t seem to put it down.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your book about?”

“This? Well I…Not sure it’s really your thing, man.”

“Maybe.” He goes back to reading. “I could see if it’s my thing?”

Eddie twists his head sideways to look up at Steve with a slightly confused face. “You wanna borrow it?”

“Was thinking you could read it.” He fiddled with the pocket of his jeans in a hopefully casual and not freaking out way. He didn’t look at Eddie as he waited, but after a few moments he responded.

“Sure. That’s fine, yeah. Want me to start over or go from here?”

“From there is good.”

And it was good, it was really really good. Steve hadn’t been able to read a book since middle school, hadn’t really tried again after that. But as he lay back and let Eddie’s voice wash over him he couldn’t help feeling that he’d been missing out.

Sure, it actually wasn’t really his thing, but the way Eddie read aloud painted such a clear picture that Steve enjoyed it anyway. The other would change his voice slightly for different characters and added emotions into his speaking. If it was a tense moment, he’d go slow and add gaps in just the right places. If it was fast paced he’d speed up and get more and more manic until the action cut off. He felt like he was reading along. Felt like he could see the pages in the book, but also the characters and the dungeon they were combining through.

So, for the first time Steve hadn’t been brushed off. He had probably found the only person he knew who could turn reading a book into a performance. One he would happily be seated for every night.

From then on, new books turned up at the trailer every week, Steve not far behind.

[dandelionsresilience]

whether the internet becomes an intolerable surveillance state, ubiquitous subscription model, or unusably ad- or AI-ridden shithole, I think we need to remember

how to do things offline

either on your personal hard drive (just because it’s an app doesn’t mean the information is stored in your device) or on paper. I’m not saying the collapse of the internet is imminent, and I’m not suggesting we do everything completely without technology, or even stop using it until we have to. (to be clear, I also don’t think the internet will just blink out of existence, suddenly stop being a thing at all; rather I think it might continue to lose its usefulness to the point where it’s impossible to get anything done. anyway) but some people may have forgotten how we got by before the internet (I almost have!), and the younger generation might not have experienced it at all.

I figure most people probably use the internet mainly for communication with friends and family, entertainment and creation (eg. writing), and looking up how to do things, so here’s how to do those things offline:

First and most importantly, download everything important to you onto at least one hard drive and at least one flashdrive! files can get corrupted and hardware can get damaged or lost, but as long as you keep backup copies, you have much-closer-to-guaranteed access versus hoping a business doesn’t decide to paywall, purge, or otherwise revoke your access. I would recommend getting irreplaceable photos printed as well

download and/or print/write down:

anything important to you - photos/videos, journals, certificates, college transcripts

contact info - phone numbers and/or addresses of friends/family (know how to contact them if you can’t use your favourite messaging app), doctors (open hours would be good too), veterinarians if you have pets, and work

how-to’s - recipes (one, two), emergency preparedness (what do I do if… eg. I smell gas)

other things you might google: cleaning chemicals to NOT mix, what laundry tag symbols mean, people food dogs and cats can and can’t eat, plant toxicity to pets

and know offline ways to find things out - local radio station, newspaper, a nearby highway rest area might have a region map, public libraries usually have a bunch of resources

also, those of you who get periods should strongly consider not using period tracking apps! here’s how to track your period manually

free printable period tracker templates (no printer? public libraries usually charge a few cents per page, or you can recreate it by hand)

moving on to entertainment, you can still get most media for free! it’s completely legal to download your favourite movies to your own personal hard drive, you just can’t sell or distribute copies (not legal advice)

movies: wcostream.tv (right click the player) - the url changes every once in a while but usually redirects; I recently noticed that it’s hiding a lot of movies behind “premium,” so it may or may not work anymore | download youtube videos

music: how to get music without streaming it | legal free downloads

games: steamunlocked.net - doesn’t have every game and can be slow to update, but very reliable

books: free online libraries | legal free downloads

otherwise passing time:

active outdoor games

for road trips (social verbal games)

for when power’s out

for sheltering in place (not all offline, but good ideas)

board games (often found at thrift stores)

ad-free customisable games collection (mobile)

read, write, draw, or whatever your craft is, sing, dance, clean, reorganise, take a bath

go outside - excuses include napping (if safe), eating, reading, finding cool plants/animals/rocks, playing with the dog

places to go include:

zoos and museums can be surprisingly cheap

parks and nature preserves

library, mall, or game shop

and a few miscellaneous things for good measure:

time budgeting | household management

how to use a planner | I’ve had success with visually blocked-out schedules like these

please add on if you have any other offline alternatives to common uses of the internet!

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence(ish) summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 2

(eps 61-110) thank u for the funny comments and tags on the last part i love u guys

the rest of these may take a while as i've caught up to where i am currently in the podcast but i will finish them like in a month i promise

----

61. the thrilling sequel to man does not open coffin: man DOES open coffin.

62. surely this doctor can find an easier way to scam people out of money than putting them in a little book.

63. THE DARK ATE MY BROTHER IN LAW.

64. this is possibly the plot of laura croft tomb raider

65. mmm crumchy

66. what's the opposite of an unboxing video

67. as close to a coffeeshop au as you're going to get from this podcast

68. Doctors hate him! Man REFUSES to die from tuberculosis!

69. your college's psych department has the worst idea ever.

70. reverse death note

71. not even death will stop this woman from taking the british subway

72. man doesn't want to be low key racist in his last moments before getting eaten

73. police versus the second coming of dark jesus

74. lady is haunted by an ad for coffee

75. mike crew says "uh fuck it let's just put this guy on a skyscraper forever"

76. ryan from buzzfeed unsolved breaks into a train yard and suffers consequences

77. you're not a enough of a bitch to be my real mom

78. man gets harassed by his cousin and then exorcises him

79. you know that chase scene in scooby doo with the doors

80. stupid idiot motherfucking jurgen leitner

81. i have been personally victimized by the sequel to the hungry hungry caterpillar

82. pov: elias threatens to cancel you

83. mannequin takes matters into its own hands after people don't like its pitch for a new window display

84. a hoarder put newspaper on my friend's face :(

85. hey there's maybe a little man upon these stairs?

86. man gets got by a squiggly thing in the dark.

87. plumber is so oblivious to spooky happenings around him that it possibly saves his life.

88. guys i think this guy likes to dig

89. lesbian investment banker finds a new, less evil job: arson!

90. guy who turns people's bones starts a gym where he promises not to turn your bones! (he is lying)

91. i was stalked by lightning for 10 years and i all i got were these stupid scars

92. jonah magnus is a bad friend // another day another elias slay

93. ocd is no match for purple fuzz

94. let the bodies drop gently to the floor let the bodies drop gently to the floor

95. im so sorry my brain refuses to remember what the war ones were about but i think one guy got gently kissed on the forehead so that's pretty nice.

96. diversity wins! the not-quite-human delivery men who stole your identity and business are maybe gay?

97. man gets gaslighted by an entire town about a hole

98. 🎶mister sandman bring me a dream, actually don't, please stay far from me 🎶

99. another one bites the dust

100. archival assistants face off against the general public (they lose)

101. jon finally levels up high enough to unlock an eldritch horror's tragic backstory

102. LOCAL MAN MARRIES BUG

103. peppa eats a clown and they cover her in concrete instead of congratulating her.

104. pennywise stole my brother's skin

105. it's world war z baby

106. Something Big Is In Space.

107. man is interrogated about the time he saw thomas the train roasts people alive and also sans is there

108. actor is stalked by mask who liked his monologue so much that it tells its mask friends to come watch.

109. sometimes a family is just a serial killer's daughter and that guy who maybe killed some vampires

110. yeah man those spiders be eating

Part 1 |

[thegeassking-blog]

Progeny Lost and found

To Amanda Waller.

Considering that you're moving all assets (soldier boy, soldier girl, drones) of the soldier program to your Suicide Squad this report will the last you receive, we do apologize if it gets long, but it will allow us to be thorough.

17 years ago Diana Prince AKA Wonder Woman gave birth to a son at XYZ hospital and the child was seized in a fake villain attack and placed in the soldier program, genetic testing has shown that the child's father is indeed Bruce Wayne AKA Batman, both are known, active and founding members of the Justice League.

For the first four years not much is to be reported other than calm mind.

However at five years old we successfully taught him how to read and that seemed to "click" something in his mind, he started reading everything we had on hand magazines newspapers books on top of that he also started disassembling and reassembling basically everything and anything he could get his hands on, including our "personal project" to our chagrin. The fact that he seems to understands what he diss/reassembles speaks for enhanced mental abilities. Further testing is required

On top of that he demonstrates greater physical than a child his age should be able to possess we are again chalking this up to genetics considering who his parents are, further testing is required.

At 6 years old we started harvesting blood, stem cell, saliva and hair from soldier boy for cloning considering that the clones won't be viable for several years for the fact that the technology needs to be calibrated for the subject being cloned we suspect that the first successful batch won't be around until the subject is at least nine to 10 years of age, we have also started on physical and mental training.

At 8 years old we can confirm that soldier boy does indeed possess an erratic memory Needless to say for a soldier this is quite good considering that you may not get more than a glance at something in the field. This was confirmed when he rebuilt one of our "personal projects" from scrap and literal garbage we had lying around the the lab, nearly burnt the place down with that ecto blaster.

As for physical abilities he's demonstrating nearly 50% more than what normal children his age should possess, his physical conditioning should only enhance this, biologically his muscles are denser, his bones are stronger, on top of that he also seems to possess not quite a meta level but definitely accelerated healing factor. The limit of this ability requires further testing.

at 10 years of age our theory has been proven correct for both physical and mental abilities, the more we seem to push him the more he seems to grow. no longer is he learning just theory we've also started martial arts training as well as weapon training, he doesn't master a weapon the moment he picks it up but it only takes him a couple minutes have usage to figure out the most effective way to use a weapon be it melee or firearm.

Sad to say it might take another year or two for the first batch of clones. No stable clones have been able to survive outside the birthing tank for more than a few minutes however we believe we found the problem, the Y chromosome in his DNA seems to be unstabilizing all the clones we believe that removing it would stabilize them but it would also make it so that we would no longer have "perfect" clones of soldier boy. The reason behind this is unknown however we believe it is due to his Amazonian DNA.

At 12 years old we have continued physical and mental training however we've also started adding in psychological conditioning fit for a soldier. we have also started swapping out the targets for specialized training dummies that actually bleed when they are cut or shot.

We are also happy to announce that we have our first clone, while we were aiming for the batch of 5, as the accelerated aging evened out it was obvious that only one was capable of higher thought the. other four were terminated. we are planning on keeping them separated until the clone (from here on out shall be known as soldier girl) at least basic knowledge and we finish up running some tests.

Sadly the rest of the report was corrupted however there were two signatures at the bottom of it

Doctor Jack and doctor Madeline Fenton

[marzipanandminutiae]

thinking about Life Before Widespread Internet Access, as part of the last generation to experience that, is so weird

because like. one, it wasn't really; I was just a small child in a lightly Luddite household. there was indisputably Internet in the late 1990s

and two...I don't really remember what it felt like?

I can say "things came from stores or from catalogues, and if the latter, they took what felt like months to arrive [probably actually 2-3 weeks, I'm guessing]. if you wanted to see a new movie, you checked the newspaper for times at the three nearest local theatres. if you wanted to see an older movie, you went to Blockbuster for a VHS or bought it from the bookstore. music came on CDs, also sold at the bookstore or a specific Music Store (which usually sold merch, too, and sometimes nerd things like action figures). if the physical bookstore didn't have a book you wanted in stock, you ordered it from them and it took like three weeks to arrive. you made new friends exclusively in person, through friends you already had, or maybe through penpal ads in magazines- though kids weren't usually allowed to do that for Safety Reasons"

I remember doing those things

but what it actually felt like to not just be able to look things up if you had questions, look up directions (even on MapQuest), shop online, have the constant hum of awareness in the back of your mind that you could at any time access this vast knowledge base/community/commerce arena-

I don't remember

isn't that strange?

[sonic-adventure-3]

need a fic told entirely through in-universe publicly available media. like academic dissertations tails wrote and got published, excerpts of eggman’s self-help books, tabloid paparazzi shots and gossip about sonic’s latest adventure, leaked heavily redacted government documents dated 50 years back, personal posts on amy’s aesthetic blog with 2 notes, craigslist listings for shit the babylon rogues are trying to pawn, the front page of a newspaper reporting that the huge gem set to be unveiled at the museum was stolen, an ad for a detective agency on the back, shaky phone footage of a car being picked up and thrown by seemingly nothing. i love alternative storytelling and i think it could work so cool with sonic

[doomsayersunited]

A Decade Of Doom!

I started this blog ten years ago to compile the growing evidence that our planet would not longer be able to sustain human life by 2050, thanks to our continued, capitalist-fueled efforts to destroy all the systems we rely upon to sustain life. The first thing I put up here was this essay, on February 20, 2014. Now, a decade later, I thought it might be "fun" to look at what's changed: 1) Earth Overshoot Day

In 2014, "Earth Overshoot Day" (the day that humanity collectively consumes more resources from nature than it can regenerate over a year) was August 19th. Now, in 2024, Earth Overshoot Day is August 1st, 2.5 weeks earlier. At this rate and assuming things don't accelerate (even though they are likely to), Earth Overshoot Day will be around June 17th by 2050. 2) Biocapacity Biocapacity is the amount of resources contained on the planet required available to sustain life, measured by area. In 2014, I calculated that the planet had a biocapacity of 1.7 hectares per person. By dividing the total available biocapacity today in 2024 with the current global population as I did then, it now appears that there are just 1.5 hectares of planetary resources left per person to extract all the materials needed to sustain life, as well as all the area available to dispose of waste. That's a 12% loss over ten years. At that rate, we can expect to lose another 30% of biocapacity by 2050, going down to just 1.05 hectares per person by then, and that's assuming that the rate of biocapacity loss does not accelerate further and that the global population suddenly stops increasing after a run of non-stop increases spanning five centuries. Oh, also a reminder that the average human requires 2.7 hectares of land to sustain its current consumption habits/levels. So. 3) Individual Conservation To illustrate the futility of individual conservation at this point in the apocalypse, let me give you an example: If you were: a fully-vegan localvore living in a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and using 100% renewably-generated electricity; who did not ever use motorized transportation of any kind or buy new clothing, furnishings, electronics, books, magazines, or newspapers and recycled all the waste you generated that was recyclable, you'd only require 1.4 hectares of biocapacity to sustain yourself. That is close to the kind of lifestyle extremism it would take to live sustainably. Deviate from that level of stoicism even slightly (say by living in a two-bedroom apartment with three other people instead of a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and taking a single, four-hour roundtrip flight, once a year) and you're now consuming 1.6 hectares of biocapacity, which means you're using more resources than the world has available for you if everything was divided evenly among everybody. Of course, biocapacity, like all resources, are not divvied up evenly among everybody, which is why there are currently 114 different armed conflicts happening worldwide - the highest number of armed conflicts since 1946. 2023 was the most violent year in the last three decades. 4) Other Signs Of The End Times In my 2014 essay, I referenced the work of geologist Dr. Evan Fraser, who studies civilization collapse. In his book Empires of Food, Dr. Fraser noted common signs of a civilization about to collapse, which began to appear about two decades before it all goes completely to hell. Those signs were: -a rapidly-increasing and rapidly-urbanizing population We've added 700 million people to the planet since I began this blog in 2014. And where is everyone moving to?

-farmers increasingly specializing in just a small number of crops " "As farm ecosystems have been simplified, so too are the organisms that populate the farm.  A farm that specializes in a limited number of crops in short rotations does not, for example, look for plant varieties that do well in more complex rotations with intercropping.  A beef feedlot operation wants breeds that gain weight quickly on grain diets and does not want cattle breeds that digest well pasture grasses and thrive in all year outdoor environments on the range." The result? Recent estimates put the loss of global food diversity over the last 100 years at 75%. Over the 300,000 species of edible plants that exist, humans only consume about 200 of them in notable quantities, with 90% of crop plants not being grown commercially. -endemic soil erosion Climate change and the need to raise more crops have combined to increase the rate of agricultural soil erosion globally. Back in 2014, when I started blogging about the end of everything, the UN had already determined that there was only enough fertile soil left to plant 60 more annual crops. So, by 2074, we won't be able to grow food, full stop. This of course comes at a time when the global population continues to increase, and with it the need to grow more food. If projections are accurate, we will need to increase food production by 50% over the next three decades to feed everyone. -a dramatic increase in the cost of food and raw materials When I started this blog in 2014, I noted that 2011-2013 had seen the highest food prices on record. So what's happened since then?

It's important to point out here that the current food price spike started in 2020, so if Dr. Fraser's calculations are correct, the food system will collapse sometime around 2034, taking civilization with it. I closed my debut essay on this blog with a quote from the (now deceased) climate scientist Dr. James Lovelock, who advised a Guardian journalist to "enjoy life while you can. Because if you're lucky it's going to be 20 years before it hits the fan." That interview was published in 2008. We have four years left to enjoy.

[reixtsu]

He's aware of your hobbyist writing, noting your detailed schedule for posting fanfictions. However, he couldn't help but observe your recent lack of writing.

Uncertain about why you stopped, he considered the possibility of your busy schedule or personal challenges, wondering if you were resolving issues before resuming your hobbies.

One day, while together, he asked, "Why did you stop writing as often?" Your response, a simple smile, conveyed the absence of the inspirational spark you once had.

Reasonable, he respected your decision, acknowledging it as a mere hobby. Yet, he relished the weird creations you crafted. The ability to turn imaginative clouds into tangible realities through your writings fascinated him—a heavenly talent he couldn't bear to see dormant, even temporarily.

In an effort to reignite your inspiration, he started collecting eye-catching items—books, pictures, newspapers, gossip, movies from your favorite genre, food ads—hoping to see that spark return to your eyes.

After a while, his efforts paid off, and you felt the spark your writing self had been craving. With a smile, a mind filled with ideas, and your partner by your side, you faced the blank paper with confidence.

Just then however, reality once again settled in as you remembered the challenge of starting such amazing writings.

THOMA, KAVEH, NEUVILLETTE, Gorou, Tighnari, Aether, Albedo, Kazuha, Lyney, XINGQIU, ATSUSHI, POE, Sigma, Itadori, Yūta, your faves ❦

[dewffin]

soo... I think I accidentally began to make a Silmarillion Fangame...

For some unknown reason i was like "I wanna make textures :D" but i didn't want to model shit, so i just used VROID studio as a painting book... but then i was like "ummm, i never tried to draw a character an then tried to make it 3D in vroid" so uh-

yeah...

and then i was like "let´s drop this bad boy in Unreal to see how he looks" and because, well, i don't know why i decided to try to make him look a bit 2D? like he was drawn? like doing the complete opposite of what i just did?

so this is what he looked when i began to play with post process stuff

and because i wanted to look around and stuff i added a little guy i had, and it turns out that he was really little and i had to make him a box to take pics of Fëanor's face

Then i did more stuff and i ended up with these cute flowers :D

And then I said fuck it, i think I'm making a game...

So the thing is that doing a game doing a game while being a one person studio is a biiiiiit difficult.

By that i mean i had to try to keep my head leveled in what i could do, so I ended up with this...

Tecilwë's Adventures in Arda

(yeah, i don't have a name for this)

So, you play as Tecilwë, a noldorin journalist that travels around trying to document the best stories of Arda. You can find out what is happening around by talking with people, sneaking around or finding clues. Then, you can write your take on what happens, and depending on what you say, how you say it and what secrets do you keep your reputation as a journalist and your relationship with the different character you find can change for better or worse.

A little bit about Tecilwë...

Q Tecilwë Autanna -  S Tegilu

Tecilwë - The one who writes [tecil “pen”, wë “person”] or as i like to call them "El pibe birome"

Autanna - the lost sign, the fool sign [au “away, lost”, aut “fool”, tanna “sign, token”]

A young lore master from Tirion. Studied under Rumil, and is excited to document all that happens in the course of the story. 

Curious and eager to learn. More often than not ends up in trouble for documenting what was not supposed to be seen.

Tecilwë believes in the power of the word, and on how truth is composed by those who write it.

Not often remembered, wants to be remembered as one of the great lore masters. But the curse of the Noldor runs deep…

Basically a player insert

Y alto chismoso

What i have for now in gameplay is that you can run around a location (and you'll be able to travel to different places, but time passes so, for example, if you leave Aman you cannot go back, or if Gondolin fell then you cant go there). There as i wrote you can talk to people and find out stuff, and all what you find you write in your journal, which you can check to remember what you have seen. With all of that you can unlock new dialogues, and when you get enough information you can end the day and write like a newspaper or magazine. If, for example, you found that gasp Maedhros and Fingon are being two love birds behind a tree, you can write about that in different ways. A- You just say thing as they are. B- You say that is great to see the unity in the House of Finwë. C- Accuse Fingon of corrupting the innocent eldest of Fëanor. D- say nothing about this. With A you get lower relationship points with Russingon for exposing them. B gets you a good realtionship with them, but lower with Fëanor. C gets you a good amount of points with Fëanor, but the other two will hate your guts. And with D, nothing changes, but you can confront them about their relationship and tell them to be more careful if they want to keep it a secret.

Also if you write a lot about gossip stuff you will lose credibility and that is kinda a way to not being remember as the great Lore Master you want to be...

Also i love how FIngon's hair is coming out. This is like a first draft but it was fun to make.

Also this motherfucker is so fucking tall

And this is one of my favourite screenshots from when i had Fëanor as the playable character

(also here is really noticeable that i added lights to their eyes, and it switches form golden to silver light)

In short, a gossip simulator

Also i cannot wait to make the "Who is Gil-Galad's dad" level

Version 0.1.0

Other updates

[lulublack90]

Prompt 22 - Roommate AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 22, word count 938

CW - Pandora jokes about Remus getting murdered and dismembered.

Moving countries was scary. Moving to the capital city seemed scarier. Remus left his childhood home in the Welsh countryside and clambered onto the bus that would take him to London. 

He’d wanted to move for years but had always been too scared. His parents had instilled in him how dangerous it would be for him not to know anyone for hundreds of miles.

One morning, while he was munching on his cornflakes, he noticed an ad in his father’s newspaper. 

‘Roommate Wanted!

All bills are paid. Just pay for your own food. 

Sexy, well-bred male looking for a friend/companion to share a house in a highly sought-after area of London.

Please use the number below to apply. Please, serious enquiries only. No, this is not a joke.

P.S. Must love Bowie, or we’re not going to get along.’

Remus quickly put his breakfast things away and, grabbing his phone, fled outside, typing the number into his phone as he went. 

He settled under his favourite tree and pressed call.

“Hello,” A husky voice answered. 

“Oi, hi. My name is Remus Lupin, and I—” He started to explain. 

“Look, mate. I don’t know what you’re selling, but calling me at this ungodly hour is unacceptable. Goodbye.”

“Wait- wait. I’m not selling anything. I’m phoning about your ad!” Remus hurriedly spoke before the man could hang up. 

“Oh, in that case. Hello, I’m Sirius.” Sirius suddenly sounded a lot more cheerful. “So why do you want to be my roommate?”

“Well, erm. I’ve always wanted to move to London, but I’ve been a bit worried about living there on my own.” He told Sirius, deciding the truth would be best. 

“Uhuh, uhuh. Anything else?” Sirius sounded a bit bored. Remus knew he was screwing this up.

“I’m clean and tidy and don’t make much noise. I have enough money saved to pay my way—” Sirius cut him off again. 

“All the bills are paid for. You only need to get yourself food.” Remus nodded even though Sirius couldn’t see him.

“Oh, right. I wasn’t sure if that bit was true. Erm, I don’t have a job yet, but I’ll start looking straight away.”

“Remus, I’m gonna stop you there. I don’t think we’re going to be a good fit. I can already tell you are the complete opposite of me. No offence, but you sound like you go to bed early and like nothing more than to sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate and reading a good book.” Sirius said honestly. He wasn’t wrong. What Sirius had just described was his usual evening routine. He had to think of something compelling to change Sirius’s mind. 

“I have every David Bowie vinyl.” He blurted out. 

“Really?” Sirius sounded excited now. 

“Yeah, yeah, and I don’t know how you feel about T. Rex, but I have all there’s as well, and Led Zeppelin and loads of others.” All he could hear was the slight buzzing from the phones as the line went silent. 

“Alright, Remus Lupin, you’ve twisted my leg. You’re the only person who’s called so far that I’ve actually managed to tolerate for more than ten seconds. So, let’s give it a go. When can you move in?” Remus sat there in shock. 

“Really? You want me?” 

“Sure, why not? The room’s all set up just need to bring some clothes and whatnot. I’ll text you the address, and you can let me know when you want to come. If you find it’s not for you, you can move out whenever you like. That sound okay?” Sirius spoke quickly, but Remus managed to make out all the words. 

“Sounds brilliant. I’ll make arrangements and then give you a date.”

“Grand. Oh, and Remus, I really hope it works out.” With that, Sirius hung up, and Remus was left reeling.

“Oh, you’re totally getting murdered.” Pandora, his best friend, snorted when he told her he was moving to London and what the ad had said. 

“No, I’m not. Sirius seems really nice.”

“Oh, sweet baby, you are so getting chopped into little bits and placed around London to look like a smiley face or something.” She’d clapped her hands together and jumped up and down on the spot. 

“Gee, thanks, Pan. Love the confidence there.” He rolled his eyes and pushed down the panic that her words could actually turn out to be very true. 

The bus was packed with holidayers, commuters and everything in between. Remus was glad of his noise-cancelling headphones and his favourite book. In a couple of hours, he’d be starting his new life. Everything he owned was in the compartment under the bus and was surprisingly little. 

London was busier than he had ever imagined, coming from a tiny village. The noise and smells were overpowering. He got the tube from Victoria next to the coach station and rode it up to Islington. 

He followed Sirius’s directions through a beautiful, tidy neighbourhood. Remus walked past a picturesque park and found the house. Number 12 Grimmauld Place loomed above him. It was far grander than he’d imagined. He walked up the front steps and used the heavy serpentine brass knocker. It thudded loudly against the wooden door. He heard scrabbling on the other side before a heavy lock clunked, and the door swung open to reveal the most beautiful man Remus had ever seen, flipping his long black hair out of his face.

“Remus?!” Sirius exclaimed joyfully. Oh boy, Remus was in trouble. He reached his hand out and shook Sirius’s before following him into the house, closing the heavy door behind him.  

[gargoyleandgremlinpress]

Sudden Nature by everbrighter

This MDZS fic/series is a modern AU that's mostly without magic... except there's a heavenly bureaucracy. And every once in a while, it makes a mistake, and sends someone who's died back to earth. This is rare, but frequent enough that hospitals have resurrection wards just in case.

If you're at all familiar with canon, I think we can all see where this is going.

Wei Ying is a a whistleblower on the Wen Corporation in this one, who's adopted baby A-Yuan. When he's killed in an accident, Lan Zhan raises Lan Yuan and lives with his grief... and then Wei Ying comes back. This is a story that's emotional and heartfelt, and very funny in bits, about grief and loss and family, and getting something back you never thought you would, much like canon.

The series is a bunch of interconnected short fic with two long segments. The first one is from one from Lan Sizhui's point of view: "Lan Yuan has lived most of his sixteen years not knowing the man who raised him as a toddler. So when Wei Ying suddenly comes back to life, both Lan Yuan and his dad, Lan Zhan, work to make room in their lives for him. Too bad he has a science project due this week..."

The second one is from Wei Ying's: "Wei Ying comes back from the dead, all of a sudden. Over the course of a week, he remembers what it is to be alive, and what it is to be in love." (Not gonna lie, I kind of love the parts where Wei Ying is adjusting to no longer having the body of a twenty year old, in terms of sleeping for a week on the couch now has CONSEQUENCES.)

But it was the very first part of the series that hooked me, where Lan Zhan falls in love. And it's not who you think.

"Aren’t there classes for this? Aren’t there books a person is supposed to read for this? Should he have done research? Shouldn’t he have prepared? But ah, it’s too late now, and there’s a baby in his arms, face to the shoulder of Lan Zhan’s cable-knit sweater."

I finished the typeset for this fic back in the fall of 2022, and it was in my pile of text blocks to finish binding for Binderary, an annual fanbinding challenge, in February, 2023. It was the last one left. I looked at the text block. I looked at my bookcloth and paper options for the cover. I pulled out two options... and couldn't decide. It turns out, I just didn't have the right combination of colours.

In the interim, I obtained some Duo book cloth, a particular line that has a two-tone colour shift to it, gorgeous in person, but really hard to photograph. The company that makes it, sadly, has gone out of business, and the final group orders for it obtained near epic status among @renegadeguild circles. (It has its own lore. And fic.)

Which is to say, the spine of this book is Duo Dragonfly, and the cover is chiyogami paper. The endbands were my first time trying a double core, in sewing thread, and are a little bit shaky as a result, though I'm pretty happy with the colour combo. Lettering stencilled in gold acrylic paint.

I was going for an ethereal, heavenly feel with the title page, and a shout out to the Toronto setting with the spread on the table of contents. (Hello, fellow Canadians!)

A few interior shots here, and a vaguely Lan cloud used for the section breaks. I did a bit of formatting to mimic a newspaper column for the article that starts off "Thirty-Seven," the long section from Wei Ying's point of view.

I am pretty happy with how it turned out, and glad I held off to get the match that felt right for the cover materials!

And behind the cut for spoilers... the last sentence in the short chapter right before Wei Ying's death gets me RIGHT IN THE FEELS every single time I read it.

Lan Zhan held onto A-Yuan! He held him for fifteen minutes, and then for the next sixteen years it took for Wei Ying to come back from getting milk at the 7-11! Oh my heart. Nnngh.

(Also, I slid in a fan art illustration for the fic from GreenTeaPikachu, so enjoy the drunk!LanZhan Does Parkour as an added bonus for clicking through!)

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hi! :) was wondering I'd you could have someone get flirty...inappropriatly so with Mycroft then shows up to find him

@theweepingvulcan91 Thank you so much for this gift of a gif. It might have got away from me a little - Em.

The soft glow of the reading lamps illuminated the high ceilings and grand bookshelves of the Diogenes Club, casting long shadows that danced upon the richly decorated walls. Mycroft Holmes, his posture upright yet relaxed, was nestled in a plush armchair near the fireplace. The subtle crackling of the fire added a comforting backdrop to the scene, a stark contrast to the day's relentless demands.

The other members of the club, equally committed to the sanctity of silence, moved about with deliberate quietness, their footfalls muffled by thick carpets. Some were engrossed in their newspapers, others in their books, all sharing an unspoken agreement to preserve the tranquillity of the space.

Mycroft's evening reading was a well-worn ritual, a necessary retreat from the cacophony of his responsibilities. His sharp eyes scanned the pages methodically, each piece of information absorbed and catalogued with precision. The club's unique environment allowed him to process the day's events, each new fact or observation finding its rightful place in the intricate tapestry of his mind.

The atmosphere was one of serene detachment, a haven where even the most burdened of minds could find respite. As the fire continued its gentle murmur, Mycroft turned another page, the rhythm of his routine restoring the equilibrium that had been disturbed by the day's incessant challenges. Here, within the hallowed halls of the Diogenes Club, he found peace. That was until his phone vibrated, drawing his hawkish attention.

Mycroft's eyebrow arched as he glanced at the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noted the sender. Shuffling through his mental rolodex, he realised this was that strange woman from acquisitions who always smiled at him. He barely said a word to her, and yet she always seemed to go out of her way to say hello to him.

He wondered how she had managed to acquire his private number. Mycroft prided himself on his meticulous control over his personal information, a necessity in his line of work. That she had pierced this veil of privacy irked him greatly. This imposition was an irritation, a security breach.

With a silent sigh, he leaned back in his chair, allowing the shadows of the flickering fire to play across his face. The club’s atmosphere, usually a fortress of calm, now seemed to buzz with a faint undercurrent of urgency. Perhaps this message was a necessity, something which required his immediate attention.

He opened the message, his expression becoming one of confusion.

"Did you miss me today, Mycroft?" read the message, followed by a winking emoji.

Mycroft's fingers tightened around his phone as he read the message again, disbelief warring with irritation. His mind raced, analyzing every interaction he had ever had with the woman from acquisitions. Each encounter had been brief, polite, and decidedly unremarkable—at least from his perspective. What had he missed? How had he overlooked someone slipping through his carefully constructed barriers?

He set the phone down on the mahogany table beside his chair, the flickering firelight reflecting off its screen. The message stared back at him, its casual tone completely at odds with the seriousness of his current predicament. Mycroft was not accustomed to being caught off guard, and the sensation was deeply unsettling.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. It would not do to let this minor breach unsettle him. He needed to address the situation methodically. His first step would be to ascertain exactly how she had obtained his private number. That would require some discreet inquiries—he had no doubt that the answer would reveal a lapse in his own protocols, and that was unacceptable.

For now, he had to respond. Ignoring the message was not an option; it would only embolden her to further intrusions. Mycroft picked up his phone again, considering his reply carefully. He needed to convey his displeasure without revealing too much, to reassert his boundaries firmly but without provocation.

After a moment of contemplation, he typed out a response:

"I believe you may have mistaken this number for a more public line. Please refrain from using it in the future. – M.H."

He sent the message and set the phone down once more, feeling a measure of control return. The fire crackled quietly beside him, and he let the warmth and the familiar surroundings of the club soothe his irritation. This would be dealt with swiftly, just like any other anomaly in his meticulously ordered world.

Unfortunately for Mycroft, the matter was far from settled. It appeared that once she knew this was indeed his number, it only encouraged her to send further messages. Each one was more flirty and suggestive than the last, making him feel increasingly uncomfortable. Despite his best efforts to ignore the texts and hope they would stop, they persisted, leaving him in a state of constant unease. Mycroft realized that he would need to take more definitive action to address the situation, but he wasn't quite sure what steps to take next.

Sherlock had asked you to stop by the Diogenes Club on your way home to drop off a file for his brother. As you entered the room, ignoring the glares that quite obviously not being a member earned you, your attention fell on the look of total frustration on Mycroft's face. His entire being practically vibrated with it. It was clear that something was deeply troubling him, and it wasn't just the breach of the club's strict non-communication policy by your presence. Mycroft, usually the epitome of calm and control, seemed to be battling an internal storm. His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest of his chair, and his eyes, though focused on his phone, were filled with a mix of anger and discomfort. It was a rare sight to see the elder Holmes so unsettled, and you couldn't help but wonder what had pushed him to this edge.

As you approached, his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes, frustration rolling off him in waves.

"Trouble at work?" you queried, taking a seat opposite him. Your voice pierced through the silence, earning you more than a couple of black looks from other club members.

"Nothing I cannot handle," Mycroft huffed, his jaw clenching as his phone vibrated once again. The urge to throw the damned thing into the fire grew stronger with each low hum emanating from the blasted machine.

You glanced at his phone, then back at him. "It doesn't look like nothing," you remarked, your tone gentle but probing.

Mycroft's eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of annoyance and resignation in them. "Persistent... nuisance," he admitted, the words forced through gritted teeth.

You raised an eyebrow. "Anything I can help with?"

For a moment, he seemed to consider the offer, then shook his head. "No, but I appreciate the gesture. It's a personal matter that requires a delicate approach."

"I doubt a 'delicate approach' from a Holmes is possible," you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress a grin.

The phone buzzed once more, breaking the moment. He reached out and grabbed it with such force that his knuckles turned white.

Without a word, you extended your hand, eyes locked on his. He hesitated but eventually handed over the phone, his gaze never leaving your face. As you scrolled through the messages, your eyebrows shot up and a smile tugged at your lips; the messages were becoming increasingly bold.

He watched, his curiosity piqued, as you typed a reply and hit send. Then, with a smirk, you handed the phone back to him.

He held it in his palm, expecting another buzz, another daring message in response to whatever you had sent. But the phone remained silent. Intrigued, he opened the message thread. A look of amusement spread across his features as he read what you had sent to his rather persistent admirer:

"Consider your approach noted. Best of luck, but persistence doesn't always equate to success. - someone with a much better approach to courting Mycroft Holmes."

[impatient-traveler]

I realize a lot of the current fandom came to the game after several patches or several *years* since release. So a lot of you might not know the history and how things used to be different.

Now, I personally have very strong feelings about the direction in which FFXV was taken post-launch, but this isn't the point of this post.

The point is to maybe make some newer people in the fandom realize that things used to be very different and hopefully make some of you guys learn something cool about a game you love.

FFXV had several core philosophies that were new, and brave, and really cool, and some of them ended up backfiring really badly. It endeavored to be a multimedia project (the multitude of associated media wasn't just "they weren't able to fit it in the game"!). It was intended to be a live service game (which feels very disconnected from the meaning of that term now, but it was already pretty weird at the time. Tabata, the game's director, seemed to have a very different idea of what it meant from the rest of the world, and to him it meant free monthly updates for multiple years alongside paid DLC). It also was intended to take the players' feedback into account in order to become the best game it could be. That's why we got a huge poll asking for what to add to the game, and that's why a ton of changes were made to the game's main story and content after release. That's also why the original experience is nearly lost to time now.

The initial few patches were mostly a continuation of the game's development. Stuff the devs hadn't managed to do in time or that they thought needed to be better. As time went on, though, more and more updates were made that changed the game's identity in significant ways.

One of the major ideas behind FFXV's storytelling was that it was always intended to be subjective. The main game was Noct's story. You had main characters leaving, you had a lot of things not being explained, a lot of stuff you had to piece together from scraps of info. You were intended to experience the story the way Noctis did. The DLC and other media were supposed to fill those gaps for you. What happened in Insomnia while we were gone? What did the other party members get up to while they weren't with us? You were supposed to get this information from different narrators, different viewpoints.

Think about it. Noctis is only twenty, he was never explicitly told what his destiny would involve, he was never taught how to do this. He's confused, he's terrified, he's just trying to keep going one step at a time through most of the game. It was immersive and impactful when you shared some of those feelings as a player.

The information was there. In other media (Kingsglaive, Brotherhood, A Kings's Tale, Parting Ways, Platinum Demo, eventually all the DLC), but also in little scraps around the game's world. Radio transmissions, Cosmogony books, scraps of newspapers and documents, the environmental storytelling of the nights creeping into your days, the ruined walls of Zegnautus Keep. It was in the context. The subtext. The cross-referencing and theory crafting we, the fandom, did.

You would be surprised just how much of the lore added in DLC and updates elicited no reaction from us back then. It was "duh". It was things we already knew. Things we'd pieced together, discussed, and written fics for months in advance.

Then the Internet did its thing and the loudest voices the devs could hear were the people who didn't love the game, who didn't want to put in the effort, who didn't want to think about it too hard. And instead of only affecting the subsequent content, it also changed the game we used to know.

The random interactable lore dumps they added to many locations with no explanation or reason to be there. The bestiary and character infos (which is a great feature but contributes to making players wait for lore to be fed to them rather than think for themselves). The horrible, disgusting powerpoint presentation they inserted into the middle of the Shiva conversation on the train that just pauses mid-dialogue to offer you an extensive infodump and then continues as if that never happened. There's a lot of things like this.

Did you know the original Ch13 was a horror game? The Ring's spells were tuned in such a way that they incentivised sneaking. It wasn't even mandatory then, you could still bruteforce your way through just by learning the simple counter timing for the Ring. But until you did, you got a precious few minutes of feeling terrified of the MTs patrolling the corridors. People complained that it "took you out of the action" and "interrupted the pace". Oh, do you mean how Noctis was INTERRUPTED by suddenly being all alone, in an unknown, hostile place, trying to rush to save his friend but not get himself killed? It was impactful. It was memorable. Now ch13 feels like a bad joke, Ardyn's attempts at taunts triggering a minute late when you've already moved on from the corpses of the MTs he's warning you about.

Do you know how it felt when Insomnia was a quarter of its current game size and had barely any content? It was rushed, yes. But that was the tragedy of it. The reason why it was so successful at conveying how this felt to Noctis, to the others who'd been waiting for him for a decade. To be reunited only to die. To be robbed of all your freedom in favor of playing the role you were meant for.

Did you realize the entire boss rush at the end is a Royal Edition addition? It's too long. It feels disjointed and at odds with the mood of the story. You're supposed to feel helpless. You're supposed to despair. Instead you get each party member delivering an over-the-top finisher move while yelling extremely cheesy and out of character lines about how much they love their friend. We always knew how much they loved him. It was in their presence. In their willingness to die for him. In the way they didn't look away when they knew they were about to lose him. In the stilted dialogue and awkward attempts at humor, trying to recapture their lost innocence.

This game used to punch you in the gut as it ended. It used to make you feel like you were watching a dear friend walk to his death and had to live with that, with the knowledge that for all its injustice and cruelty, this was "for the best".

Go out. Get the 1.0 mod (which I was consulted for as the person who actually played the old versions and resident modding community grandma but did not touch any of the actual mod making). Get an old disk copy for your console. See this game at its strongest. Experience the version of the story that forces you to grapple with the tragedy and doesn't sugarcoat or distract you from the ugly parts.

[hey-august]

A Line from Me to You - Chapter 2

Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this? (Chapter 1, check out the story tag for more chapters) Word count: 1.9k Warnings: This chapter is SFW, but the story will eventually be NSFW - hopefully in the next chapter. Some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader. A/N: Little more plot-building before we get to the spice. Hope yall enjoy!! Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You read and re-read the bonus words written into your book until they flowed through your head like a real conversation. An unknown voice whispered in your ear, adding commentary, a few snide remarks and snarky responses, poignant questions, and narrative asides that you couldn’t get enough of. 

The mystery of your anonymous reading buddy sat with you. It was calm and inviting. You weren’t consumed with a desire to dig inside and pull out the truth, but to let the mystery be. To let it exist like this. Yes, you did want to know whose thoughts and memories you were reading, but it wasn’t a dire need. And more than that, you wanted to keep this secret. A shared secret.

Staring at the next chapter you needed to read, the novelty plummeted as you raised a pen. It felt heavy in your hand, weighed by an awkward feeling. The back of your neck prickled, as if someone was already reading your thoughts. You felt stifled by the odd sense of visibility. Unable to connect your desire to give the story your full attention with wanting to share the book with another reader, you tried to flip those feelings and see if they would fit another way.

It was like a game of leapfrog. You read the annotations added after yours, then jumped into the next chapter you hadn’t read yet and filled in the gaps left in the margins, and, finally, you landed in a new chapter. The puzzle pieces connected as you fell entirely into the story.

Traveling with the cloaked figure, Grey, on his journey, your musings were scribed each step of the way. Phrases and words circled, emotive faces drawn near touching moments, and your own personal tidbits littered the pages. The chapter ended with Grey winning over the sullen rock golem who had been living alone as an outcast. The golem accepted Grey’s invitation to join him on a journey to save the royal family.

A few days later, Buggy was surprised to see the book peeking out of its protective hidey-hole like a mollusk. He noted its disappearance and didn’t expect such a rapid reappearance. Although it wasn’t a long novel, completing the entire journey would have taken a sleepless night or two. A small voice questioned whether the owner was upset at the additional vandalism (even if they started it) and decided to abandon the book entirely. 

Filled with unease, Buggy ignored the book and went about his duties. The poisonous voice stayed quiet as the captain threw himself into work, wondering if he might avoid confronting the question and the book. A lifetime of rejection created a wide boundary of protection that the little voice hid behind, hissing unfounded fears.

The sour feelings were chased away with a mouthful of liquor later that night. While heading back to his quarters, Buggy retrieved the book and walked fast to outpace his own negativity. Although it was only the second time he had the novel, reading was easily incorporated into his evening routine. It felt familiar to him. 

Growing up, Buggy was a voracious reader. Sometimes, he wondered if that’s why he needed glasses now. Maybe his eyes were rebelling against all the words he forced them to absorb - short stories, long epics, newspapers, essays, letters, tiny print, large fonts, hand-written, transcribed. Anything he could get his hands on was devoured in his spare time. Sentences were crammed into the few seconds between duties, chapters read by dim moonlight, and pages became speckled with food as he pored over the books while eating.

Over time, Buggy read less and less. People poked fun at the bookworm. They said he should be careful always having his nose in a book, it might get caught in the pages. Even lighthearted remarks about how much he read began to sting. And as he grew up, Buggy had other things to occupy his time with.

Eventually, guilt took hold in his chest. Roots grew whenever he had time that could be filled by a book, his empty hands missed the feel of pages threading through the fingers, or when he looked at the forlorn stories waiting on his bookshelf. He tried to push through the ache by buying new books that remain untouched. He even bought glasses to try and turn a chore back into a hobby, but nothing relit the spark. It all turned into dirt and manure for his remorse to grow. 

The pirate never expected the pain of turning his back on something that brought comfort would be eased by a silly fantasy novel. Despite being a grown man with hair on his chest and alcohol on his breath, Buggy felt like a kid again as he sank under the covers with a good book. Instead of waiting for a tension headache, Buggy pulled out his glasses, swiped the lenses with a small cloth, and put them on. The first thing he read was a note tucked alongside his bookmark.

“Good notes! Although I disagree that the writer is a ‘self-indulgent asshat who sees the world through rose-colored glasses.’ I read ahead through the next chapter and left space for you. Please do the same and put this back in the ‘secret’ spot. I want to see if you change your mind.”

Buggy chuckled to himself. Of course you wouldn’t agree with him, you picked the book in the first place. Maybe if he pointed out more of the author’s blatant self-insert characters used to tout their poorly thought out ideals, you’d reconsider. He took a sip of alcohol and twirled a pen in his fingers. 

Towards the end of the newest chapter, two things caught Buggy’s attention. First, the fucking corner of the page was folded again. Second, was a comment about the golem and “found family.” You wrote about how nice it is to find a place you belong and people you feel at home with. You felt like the golem character when you joined this pirate crew. The rock golem, named Daisy Lee, had sprouted a flower when Grey extended his hand and companionship. The little heart next to that sentence was a punch to the gut.

Buggy the Clown knew first-hand how it felt to find someplace you belonged. In fact, he’s heard that from his crew countless times. After fights, successful raids, parties brimming with alcohol, any situation full of emotions were bound to be followed with freaks professing appreciation for their captain. But this was different. You didn’t know who was reading these words. You didn’t intend to share them with the captain himself. These weren’t words of performative devotion, honeyed sentiments, or feelings brought forth by adrenaline, but inner-thoughts shared during your own personal time.

It was late and his body was tired, which meant his emotions were delicate. That’s why tears collected in the corners of his eyes before slipping down his heated cheeks. Exhaustion and alcohol. Fingers attempted to fit under his glasses to wipe away the saltwater, but the legs tugged on his ears and the frames dug into his forehead. Buggy dabbed away what he could in the confined space and rubbed the back of his hands on his wet cheeks to dry them. With a face redder than it was moments ago, he swallowed the rest of the sober emotion with the alcohol in his glass.

---

The next time you found the book, there was another note for you. A short sentiment and a gift.

“Stop folding the goddamn pages. I don’t care if this is your book, I won’t give it back. Use the bookmark.”

The bookmark guarding the edge of your reading area wasn’t anything special. It was just a bit of paper that could have come from anywhere, but the edges were carefully torn into a long rectangle. The scrap used to mark the other reader’s progress was ripped haphazardly and shaped like a squashed kidney. Rolling your eyes, you folded the corner of your new gift. You’d use it, but on your terms.

You followed the same pattern as last time, reading the new notes, the next chapter, then a new chapter. And your reading partner followed suit. Bookmarks jumped over each other, like checkers. Stories were swapped, emotions unlocked, betrayals occurred (the first of which was you creasing the bookmark, which was acknowledged with a little angry face), foes defeated, heroes injured, feelings exposed, and so much more. You wrote about leaving your family and village behind, like some of the adventurers. The other person wrote about not really knowing their family. Not in a story, but as a passing comment to what you scribbled. Unsure how to respond, you simply wrote that you were glad their journey brought them here.

Weeks passed as the book exchanged hands. One night found you hunched over in bed, following your reading buddy as you raced through the final chapter. The sea was as restless as your beating heart, each wave and thump growing erratic through the climax.

Worn down and weary, Grey and his companions approached the castle. Moss and vines decorated the worn stone structure. An abnormal breeze carried the sweet stench of decay. The rustle of leathery wings and tell-tale stomping emitted from the courtyard ahead. Grey turned to Daisy Lee and Jack, readying himself to go ahead on his own. To his surprise, Jack clapped a hand on the man’s cloaked shoulder and nodded to their stone friend, who marched forwards, toward the dragon.

You silently cheered with each blow the heroes dealt and gasped with every set-back they sustained. The fight raged on in your white-knuckled grip, with Daisy Lee crumbling into a smaller version of themself, and Jack throwing himself in front of Grey, only to be knocked out.

Grey shouted in anguish and charged forwards. Landing a mighty blow on the dragon, the fierce beast collapsed with a pitiful roar. Smoke poured from it’s mouth and nostrils, filling the courtyard. Through the fog, Grey could just barely see the large shadow shrink. As the smoke cleared, a naked figure lay on the ground - the victim of a curse. It was Prince Shaia. Grey’s brother.

The rest of the story was wrapped up in two pages. There was a whirlwind of activity when Grey rescued the rest of the royal family, revealed his lineage to his companions who readily accepted the information, Grey’s rapid ascension to the throne, and the multitude of changes he immediately put into place across the kingdom to end every single plight, hardship, and minor inconvenience he encountered. The story ended with the sun setting on a utopia, with no mention of issues implementing new rules and systems or discourse about the kingdom changing hands to a previously unknown individual.

You sat silently for a moment, mulling over the ending. It was an enjoyable story full of adventure and whimsy, but the conclusion was rushed. Very rushed. The last paragraph had a bracket drawn on the side and an arrow pointing to a little face sticking it's tongue out and a note:

“I haven't changed my mind. This wouldn’t happen so easily, it’s so unbelievable-”

Frowning, you scribbled a retort before finishing the rest of the note. “It’s a fantasy book. Of course it’s not believable.”

“-I have a book we can read next. I guarantee it’ll be better than this.”

A buzzing filled your head and reverberated down to your chest. You kept reading the message, studying each individual letter constructing the words that warmed your body. The beating of your heart stopped using adrenaline as fuel and channeled the rushing endorphins instead. You hoped that this secret relationship would continue, and to see that feeling reciprocated filled you with so many fluttery feelings that you couldn’t tease them apart.

“Okay, I’m trusting you.”

[violettaskies]

Not Just a Dream

Prompt: sex toys

Pairing: bodyguard!eddie munson x f!reader

Notes: wc 9.5k // kinktober story two of five // hope everyone enjoys this one, the love for the first story was so crazy omgggg and it’s so heartwarming to see all the support. so thank you for everything // this is my first au sorta thing so i hope everything makes sense // eddie is a perv as always lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // peeping, pillow humping, sex toys, vibrator, masturbation, mutual masturbation // smut // reader’s first time is mentioned, not the most mind blowing experience, but not gone into heavy detail // please let me know if there are any more that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

To say that this was probably the easiest job in the world would be an understatement. For years, of doing newspaper routes in the rain, having near-misses with the Hawkins’ police department due to being Reefer Rick’s little dealer — being a bodyguard was pretty sweet. Especially since he is always standing next to an angelic beauty as the person he needs to protect on a daily basis. It was truly a miracle that this job fell into Eddie’s lap, literally. 

As he was rummaging through shelves to look for something to do whilst hiding away from the hypothetical pitchforks of the townspeople several days ago, there was one item in Rick’s home that stood out from the rest. It was a copy of The Silmarillion, which could be deemed as relatively normal in homes with a bookworm or two. However, it being the only novel in the entirety of the building, was strange. Within the pages, there was a piece of paper with a note that contained a phone number and address. Truthfully, Eddie felt like this was all meant for him, so he decided to follow it. When he did, he found himself at a large apartment complex in Chicago with a huge penthouse at the very top.

This didn’t feel right, everyone walking in and out of the lobby was dressed in the finest clothes. Even if they were going out on an afternoon jog, Eddie noted how they were still wearing a gold watch so casually. As he stood there, with the same outfit he had washed and re-wore a thousand times, the former Dealer’s heart dropped. 

This was a mistake. 

All he was able to do was walk backwards, almost as if he wanted to see if the beautiful architecture was bound to get smaller if he kept his gaze on it. Eddie wanted to go home — well, he wanted to find a new home. At the very least, it probably wasn’t here; the little note gave him too much hope in a time of despair. Maybe he should just — 

“Are you lost?” a sweet voice nearly whispered from behind him. As Eddie was walking without looking, he had accidentally bumped into a young woman with a few books in hand. 

“No, just passing through. Maybe I would have better luck if I wasn't walking backwards,” the man chuckled as he looked at you fully now, noting that you were about the same age as him; only you were definitely in a different tax bracket than him. 

“Well, hopefully you can walk in the right direction to wherever you need to go.” The sound of your voice was so soft in comparison to the sounds of the city. Eddie couldn’t help that he was hypnotized the instant he took you all in. 

“Y-yeah, have a good day,” although he wished to bask in your beauty for a moment longer, this city was not for him. 

And so, like strangers on the street on a regular day, the two of you nodded politely before walking in opposite directions. Only Eddie stopped himself after taking three steps, just to see where you were — something in him told him to check if you were safe, like his conscience thinking straight for the first time in his life. However, he noticed how you walked into the building he was just admiring, confirming that you two really were from different worlds. Well, at least he got to see some beautiful things before leaving the city. 

Or so he thought. Just as he was about to look away, he noticed two tall men dressed in long black coats following her; and then one walking his way. The man had a chiseled jaw, as if it were cut by the gods themselves. The dark sunglasses made him so much more ominous and scary to Eddie who was shorter than the man in black by at least half a foot. In a flash, Eddie was looking up at the man with the building towering above both of them. 

“Come with me.” The command fell from the man’s lips in a deep tone, Eddie could nearly hear the bass in it. 

“Nope,” Eddie looked around awkwardly before spinning around, only to be stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder that pulled him backwards. 

If one thing was for certain, the young Munson truly knew how to get away from situations he didn’t want to be in. There were countless moments like this one where he was stopped by a manager at a store, or maybe even Chief Hopper. Sometimes they would grasp him by the shoulder, but he was always able to find a way out of the hold. This time, however, Eddie found himself surrounded by other men wearing similar-looking black suits, who all looked at him in a slightly threatening manner. It was more than enough to halt him in his tracks and take on whatever was going to happen next. 

“You’ll want to come with me,” the scary man whispered in the younger man’s ear before dragging him to the alleyway and into an entrance on the side of the beautiful building that just turned into a sinister figure in his life as he was being pulled further and further into it. 

-:-:-:-:-

Over the course of two weeks, way too much has happened to Eddie’s heart. He swears that it has felt like it has beaten out of his chest at least once a day due to all of the series of unfortunate events that started at home and ended up here: in a dark room with one lamp lighting it and large men dressed in suits surrounding him. Eddie knew that his life decisions would probably end up costing him a lot. But, he never knew that he would probably be paying the price now. He really should have ran when he had the chance. He has always been good at anyways. But, if he did, then he wouldn’t be able to have really seen you. Again, he’s happy he was able to see one beautiful thing in this week full of terror. 

The fear within him only multiplied a thousand times as he heard footsteps walking towards the room. No one could hear a thing except for the slow patter of expensive shoes hitting the wooden floors. The noise was nearly a countdown for Eddie, each step bringing in a new question into his mind. Is someone going to kill him? What did he even do? Was the news from Hawkins spreading this fast and someone wanted the bounty? Is Rick the one walking behind him? 

It wasn’t. 

Instead, it was a handsome older man, probably a bit younger than his Uncle Wayne — only dressed in clothes that probably were worth more than anything everyone in this room was wearing, combined. Plus, the smell of the man’s cologne was nicer than all of the ones Eddie stole from Starcourt last year. As Eddie looked around him whilst sitting in the chair in the middle of the room, he prayed that whatever these people wanted from him, it would at least be something he had. 

“Are you Rick’s kid?” the expensive-looking man’s voice echoed as he stood above Eddie. 

“Rick?” He tried to sound a little dumb to make sure that they weren’t people who hated his acquaintance. 

“Yeah, from Indiana. The little shit is in jail but he called us the other day. You his kid?” The man said, who Eddie figures is most likely the boss of this entire scene. “You look exactly like he said you would.” 

“Looks like he set your expectations really low then,” He genuinely hasn't showered properly in days — so goodness knows how his appearance looks to people who are meeting him for the first time. Eddie chuckled as he thought about the possibility of his crazy hair being crazier right now, trying to liven up his own spirits. 

Luckily, the boss did smile with him. He did seem like a nice man surrounded by scary men. Maybe it just helped whatever image he was trying to portray. Eddie remembers the times Rick would drunkenly tell stories about his boss in Chicago who was the real supplier of everything, and how he was actually a very nice and forgiving man in comparison to the other leaders in the game. 

He was so nice in fact, that he snapped his fingers and someone was able to bring a chair over, so that he and Eddie were able to look at one another eye-to-eye. 

“You look like shit, Rick said you’re running from something in your town,” he said in a concerned voice. 

“Y-yeah, a few things,” Eddie paused. “I went over to Rick’s place and found a book—”

“Tolkien?” 

“Yes, sir. There was an address in it and something in me told me to follow it.” Eddie could feel his breaths getting heavier as he knew that everyone was listening to every small detail. 

The boss leaned in closer and placed a soft and comforting grasp to Eddie’s shoulder, making the younger man look at him with slightly nervous eyes. Yet, he felt like he didn’t need to feel that way anymore. 

“Well, you listened to your gut, son. You listened well, I promise you’re safe now.” The boss coughed a bit in his pause. “Rick knew you’d probably head to his place and snoop around while you were hiding. Thank god he picked such an obvious book, huh?” 

“I swear I’ve never seen that man read in my life,” Eddie chuckled as he saw the smile lines on the boss’ face become more prominent. 

“Exactly, he’s had that in there since he got his ass in the slammer. After hearing about your little wanted poster, he called us right away.” 

“You don’t need to help me, really. I can get on my way somewhere else—” 

Eddie was rambling. His guilt was taking over now. There were so many people here who wanted to help him; whilst he only thought the worst when the men in black suits dragged him in here. They were probably keeping an eye out to see if he would show up. Eddie genuinely believed that he was about to die again, but he was strangely welcomed to a boss who was a lot nicer than the ones portrayed in The Godfather movies. 

“We’ll help you, son,” Eddie’s heart felt warm at the nickname. “Everyone in here is wanted in a state or two, maybe even a country,” the boss laughed which made everyone else in the room follow suit. 

“Help me?” 

“Listen, I trust Rick. If he says you’re a good kid, then you’re a good kid. Anyways, we need another hand on deck and you’ll be the perfect person for it. You help me, and we keep you safe from the feds. Sound good?” The boss sat back in his chair with a smile waiting for a response from the younger man in front of him. 

“Yes,” Eddie exclaimed rather louder than intended. “Sorry, uhm, that would be great, sir.” 

“Look at you, already getting the hang of things,” the boss chuckled at the usage of the formal name. “Isn’t that right, boys?” 

Echoes of agreement bounced off the walls before another snap was heard and the lights went on and blinds opened up to reveal that about two dozen people were in a grand ballroom of sorts. There were beautiful paintings and crown moulding surrounding the walls. Eddie truly wasn’t sure where he was now. However, when he looked out a window, he saw that no other building was in its way. Meaning only one thing: this was the top floor — this was the penthouse he admired from sixty stories down. 

Oh God, what did he get himself into now? 

-:-:-:-:-

The main job description was just to watch the security cameras, scope the halls every hour, and follow his boss’ daughter around whenever she was going to university classes or going out into the city. It sounded easy enough. The head security guard explained it all to Eddie as they were walking towards the workers’ quarters which held everyone’s uniform. Every person had a different style of black and gray clothing. Although the boss really wanted everyone to coordinate, he still wanted his people to look good — and most importantly, normal as they walked around in the city. So quickly, they gave the newest employee a dark gray suit and a black button-down shirt to wear, as well as a spacious room he could clean himself up in. It was the most dapper Eddie has looked in his entire life. He truly couldn’t comprehend the way his heart was so conflicted with how amazing and weird everything is. 

After an hour, he got a knock on the door. It was the man who grabbed him by the shoulder earlier today. “So the Princess’ bodyguard, huh? Alotta pressure for the new kid,” the bleach blond man teased as he nodded his head to urge Eddie to follow him. 

“I thought I would be doing all the shitty jobs or something,” Eddie laughed. “And to think I thought I was gonna need bodyguards with my dream job.” 

“Did you wanna be a rockstar, Munson?” the man nudged his shoulder as he walked down the hall towards the stairs with Eddie. “Your hair sure gives it away.” 

“Come on, man. I can tell you listen to freak rock music too. You have more piercings than me,” the younger man noted as he looked up to see nearly four piercings on the taller man’s ear. 

It amazed Eddie how laid back everyone seemed to be when it was the house of such a powerful man. He has relationships with people all over the world: suppliers, other dealers, bankers, politicians. The Boss probably had enough connections to rival the President — maybe even the President was on his contact list too. Regardless, everything seemed to be so easy. Even talking to his peers was so much easier than talking to people at school. 

“The boss gets tickets all the time to concerts all over the world. If you mention your birthday to him, he’ll probably fly you out to whoever is playing that night.” 

“You’re shitting me,” Eddie gasped in disbelief as he walked down a large grand staircase. 

“Not at all, he does it like every other year for people, helps the morale.” The man stopped in the middle of the foyer where the front door was. “The name’s Garcia, by the way. I used to be the Princess’ bodyguard when she was a kid. But, now we all just take on different shifts.” 

“Oh, so it’ll just be now?” Eddie wondered. 

Garcia began to fix the folds of Eddie’s jacket, and ensured that no lint could be seen. For some reason, the former Hawkins resident felt like he gained two father figures today. “Yes, the boss wants one person to be head of her security detail. He was looking for someone her age too to make things less awkward if she had a man trailing next to her, or behind her in public.” 

“Cool, cool. Do I get a weapon or something? Like a stick or taser?” Eddie asked with focus and concern in his eyes. 

“You’ll get a taser, and we’ll teach you how to fight. But, honestly, you probably won’t need it,” Garcia smiled as he began to walk towards the library. 

“Why not? I feel like the Boss is Batman or something and has cool weapons,” Eddie followed behind with quick steps. “Oh—”

For a moment, Garcia stopped in front of the library doors. He looked at Eddie’s appearance one last time before knocking on the wood. Just like the rest of the house, even the mahogany door was grand, with gold decals of a family crest and door handles bigger than a regular person’s thigh. 

Everything is so beautiful, so nice, so calm. As he heard footsteps from the other side of the door, Eddie genuinely had high hopes that this was going to be one of the most easy-going jobs he has ever had. There would be no more running away from the police or sneaking around to get five dollars. However, he spoke a little too early, because everything was just the calm before the storm that ignited in his heart. As the library doors opened, Eddie’s heart raced at a million miles a minute; something it had not done in about an hour or so. 

There you were, the girl in front of the building who he bumped into. The girl he thought about as the most beautiful thing he has seen today — and it was only confirmed as he saw your eyes reflect the gold on the door. You are the reason behind his whole job. You are the princess. 

You’re his princess. 

“Mr. Garcia, you didn’t need to knock,” you quietly chuckled. “Would you like to — it’s you.” 

Eddie and you stared at one another for a few moments before Garcia spoke up to break the silent tension. “This is your new bodyguard, Eddie Munson. He’ll be escorting you to and from your university classes, as well as any time you need to go out of the house.” 

“All of the time?” you asked, inviting the two people into the library. 

“Yes, your father is going to need a larger security personnel for the next little while so we believe that one person to watch over you would be good,” Garcia smiled at you, before elbowing Eddie. 

“It’s an honour to serve you, m-miss.” The brunette wasn’t sure what to call you. Especially as you were surrounded by the beautiful books that he could only dream of reading, he wasn’t able to just call you the love of his life so prematurely. 

You giggled politely as you sat at the large table. Truthfully, you had to regain a bit of balance after having a slight shock of getting such a handsome person to join your father’s employees. Not that anyone was ugly; however, most of the people hired were older than you by many years. This was the first person you’ve met in any situation in your life who has made your heart feel so warm for so long. Earlier, you came to the library to hide away and try to subside your feelings with some studying. But, it looks like that’s not going to happen for a while. 

Maybe after this little meeting, you need to take a shower to scream into the abyss for a bit. 

For now, you would have to keep up appearances. 

“Mr. Munson, you don’t need to call me such a formal name. If you can think of a nickname, then I would prefer that,” you smiled. 

“Then, how about you call me Eddie?” The man thought for a second before speaking aloud again. “And I can call you Princess.” 

The lines between your eyebrows became more prominent as you gasped in slight disbelief. “Mr. Garcia, have you already called me that in front of him?” you pouted, making Eddie blush at the soft sound of your voice. 

“It suits you,” the older man chuckled. “Anyways, I should get going. How about you two mingle and get to know each other?” 

And with that, you and Eddie were left alone in the library. It’ll be the first of countless moments alone together; however, this one will be the one of the most memorable. As you didn’t realize that your hearts were beating as one in this vast library full of stories of love, friendship, and adventures beyond compare. Just like the one you were about to start with a few words.  “Would you like to sit and read with me?” you asked quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. 

“As long as you have some good books, then I’ll be quiet for at least an hour,” he said with a slightly teasing tone that resonated through your body. 

“The wall closest to the globe contains all the science fiction, fantasy, and adventure book genres,” you replied, as if you already knew him. 

Eddie was really going to love it here. It was the peace he needed after this Hell adjacent week. 

-:-:-:-:-

Over the next few weeks, the on-boarding process began for Eddie. In the early morning he would need to wake up before the sun even rose, in order to go through hours of training in case of emergencies. Being one to skip gym class because it felt pointless, Eddie felt like he was about to pass out at the end of each session with the various trainers. However, when it came to the moment you would greet him a good morning during breakfast — he swears that all of the body aches would go away in only a few syllables. 

A routine was set for the two of you: breakfast, drive to campus for any lectures, run any errands that were necessary, then head home to study some more and relax. If you were cooped up in one area of the house for the night, Eddie would be dismissed to train some more. For some reason, it felt like he was being trained to protect a royal. So he often wondered just how powerful your family is. He notices that everyday, you were always dressed in the finest fabrics, whilst your other classmates would be dressed in regular clothing. Or even the food served in the house to all workers and the family, was nicer than anything he had back home — there was a time you ate an apple and it looked right out of a magazine. But, the craziest thing was that whenever you walked into a store to buy something small for yourself, or a gift for someone else; the entire store would be shut down even if you gave no warning in advance. If this was the influence you had, Eddie could barely imagine what it would be like if you were shopping alongside your father. 

So maybe the training on how to swim better, fight at least three guys at once, first aid, and tricks to ensure that the car was never followed, was not exactly unnecessary at all. Not like gym class was, at least. Going from Hawkins to here was such a huge hurdle to get past physically. 

But, every day would end off with you smiling at him before you fell asleep, and the former Dealer swears that it’s all worth it for that sweet moment. 

“I’m going to head to bed now, Eddie. Hope your training went well,” you said as he was leaving the fitness area your father built. 

“Right, u-uhm, let me know if you need anything then,” he breathed out. 

“Everything should be fine. As long as you don’t accidentally blast Black Sabbath like you did the other night,” you giggled sweetly. 

Three nights ago, when he hit the gym and thought everyone was asleep, Eddie started playing music on the stereo; however, the play button is right next to the button that is attached to every speaker in the house. Well, let’s just say that not everyone wants to wake up at two in the morning to Ozzy’s voice like a clock alarm that didn’t stop ringing. Luckily, the boss wasn’t home to stomp around the house to turn off the music, or else Eddie probably would not have a job at this very moment.

“No music tonight, I gotta be on high alert with everyone away,” Eddie chuckled as he started to walk you to your bedroom. 

“Only in your first month and you’re already head security for the house tonight,” you nudged his shoulder lightly. 

“That’s only because they’re all at that meeting with your father’s associates. I’m kinda freaking out over here, Princess.” 

In truth, there were times your father would make you go to another state during these meetings. He always feared that someone would target the house while he was away. But, after years of secretive missions and being on the good side of the majority of the competitors, the fear went away. Regardless, Eddie was still on edge right now. “You’ll be just fine. I promise not to do anything drastic for the next twelve hours,” you offered the man next to you a sweet smile which he treasured. 

“No jumping from balcony to balcony, or reaching high shelves, or using scissors that are too sharp.” Eddie sarcastically said as the two of you reached your bedroom door. 

“I’ll try my best not to do that,” you giggled as you opened the door to your room slowly. The handle was held tightly in your hand, almost like you were anxious to do something. Your bodyguard noticed it, but brushed it off as nerves regarding an exam you’ve been studying for. “Good night, Mr. Mu—Eddie.” 

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” 

With that, you closed the door behind you and Eddie was left on his lonesome to walk towards the security footage room to watch over the cameras for the night. Even during regular days, not much would happen in the first place. You were always one to stay in your room to study and spend most of the evening, maybe head to the library to use the new computer and printer down there, or sit in the terrace to paint. In truth, the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in is a really bad paper cut, or whenever you cut up fruit in the kitchen — even then, you would use a regular dinner knife so the chance of injury was minimal. Overall, Eddie thought his job was pretty easy. Although, a part of him misses chasing the rockstar dream; but, this is more than enough thrill whilst he kept a low profile. 

Tonight, he was even told to just sit in the security room and just make rounds every hour to see if you and the other workers in the house were alright. But, it was when he heard a weird cry echoing from the window, the man looked outside to see what could be happening. It sounded like a pattern of cries and groans coming from above: your room to be exact. 

Fuck. 

Of course, the one time he’s left in charge, you got yourself hurt. Eddie was already preparing himself for the berating from the head security guards for letting the precious daughter of the Boss to be wounded in her own room. And so, with a slight panic, he began to run up the stairs and head to your room at the end of the hall. The door was closed and there wasn’t any glow of a light being on from behind the door. But, the sounds were getting louder, there was even a repetitive creaking noise. Could you be in so much agony that you were trembling on the bed? The worst thoughts ran through Eddie’s head as he reached for the door handle and twisted it open. 

It was dark, only the soft glow of a lava lamp barely lighting the room and reflecting on your soft skin. For a moment, Eddie had to squint to see the whole visual. When he did, he swore his heart dropped. 

There you were, like a glowing goddess, straddling a pillow, naked, and rocking against it harshly. Your hands were on the headboard for more leverage, causing it to hit the wall furthest away from the door. Just seeing your back was already enough for Eddie to feel weak at his knees. If he moved his head slightly, he could see your reflection in the mirror next to your bed, which showed a very focused face. Combine that with the sound of soft moans and whimpers echoing through the air. It was a sight for sore eyes. 

What made the image a thousand times more pornographic was the slight hum coming from your bed. It was a bit mechanical and had a slight pattern to it too that sounded familiar to Eddie. 

He really wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. There was one side of him that told him to walk away and forget about it. It’s not like he was an angel every other night before bed too. But, God, he knows that you have never been on a date or had a boyfriend before — you admitted it once when he joked around with you in the car, asking if he needed to third wheel any date that you are asked out on. But, you profusely said no and that he doesn’t need to prepare for that since it has never happened yet and may not happen for a while. The dirtiest of thoughts ran through Eddie’s mind as he thought about how sweet you were, and how you were absolutely losing your calm demeanor as you continued to hump and moan atop your bed. He began to wonder what it would be like to help you out with your little workout. You seemed to be a bit frustrated; whispering ‘it’s not working’ over and over. 

Eddie would definitely help you make it work, there was no doubt about that. However, that would cross more lines than an HR department could even think of. So, he moved away slowly; however, the sound of the floorboards creaking echoed so loudly that it made you and him freeze every muscle in your bodies. 

Something in you said to grab your blanket and put it over your shoulders; whilst Eddie’s body seemed to think for itself. Instead of running away and pretending that nothing happened, he walked into your room, making sure to close the door quietly afterwards. 

“Does daddy know about your little toy?” he said, walking towards the bed. 

“E-Eddie—” you gasped, turning your body around to catch his eye before freezing in place. The pillow between your legs was being squished so much that it caused the little piece of vibrating plastic to press firmly on your clit beautifully. 

You didn’t know whether to cry out of embarrassment or scream from the pure ecstasy of the moment. 

“And here I thought you were hurt. Your cries could be heard all the way downstairs. But they don’t seem like bad ones,” the chuckle that escaped his throat was deep and resonated throughout your entire body. 

“You heard?” it was barely a whisper that fell from your lips. Your eyes followed his figure as he came to kneel next to your bed. Although you were covering yourself with a blanket; you still felt so exposed, yet excited simultaneously. 

The man looked up at you as he placed a gentle hand on your exposed left thigh. “Next time, don’t open your window when you wanna be a naughty girl.” 

It was all Eddie's fault in your opinion. Honestly, ever since he began working for your father, things have been the opposite of normal. The other bodyguards would drive you to college to attend whatever class was on the schedule, then drive you home so that you didn’t need to take a taxi. Maybe they would bring you to the store if you needed to buy school supplies or a gift for someone’s birthday. But, other than that, you were content with the schedule that you had gotten used to. All of them were old, close to your father’s age, and boring — to be completely frank. However, when you were eating breakfast one day and your father mentioned the news of wanting a new bodyguard on the roster, there was no inkling in your mind that he was going to be hiring someone who was your age. No need to get started on the way all the heat in your body rushed to your face when you first saw him. Anyways, the way you always choked on your cereal whenever Eddie would walk into the dining room everyday to greet you with a good morning before telling you it was time to leave, was more than enough of a reaction to prove that you had a tiny crush on the man. 

Eddie just had to call you ‘Princess’ jokingly, brush his hand on your waist whenever he needed to guide you around, whisper quietly in your ear when you two were walking to the car — as if he couldn’t say it out loud like a normal person. Every single one of those actions were so sweet, something you had never experienced before. He was so different than your sheltered-self, and you easily fell for the care-free man who acted as mature as possible when the other security guards were around. 

For countless nights you wondered what it would be like if his hands brushed a little lower than your waist, or if he could call you sweet pet names in different scenarios. Mostly, you dreamt about him being your ride home in more ways than one. 

It was so perverted to even think of someone like that, let alone a man who worked for your father. But, you wanted to feel good, needed it even. So many of your friends talked about hooking up with different guys across campus and how it helped with stress-relief during exams. A part of you wished you had the courage to call Eddie over to help you during your study breaks. Instead, you chose to fill your free time with a romance book and the toy a friend gave you last week. 

Guilt started to build within you now. Your thoughts were so impure, your actions even more so. But, what made you feel guiltiest of all was that you were caught in the act the very first time you decided to commit the act in the first place. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” you whispered, noticing that he moved to sit on the bed facing you. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he said sweetly. Eddie put a soft hand on your chin to try and get you to look him in the eye. But, truly, he wanted to see how beautiful they could be with the moonlight in them. 

Pushing yourself back, you moved from his touch. “This is so embarrassing.” 

It became more embarrassing when the sound of vibrations suddenly became louder and stronger because of the change in angle. You felt the impact right on your sensitive clit. It became a lot more painful to keep down just how good you were starting to truly feel. Eddie’s touch only helped you reach your end goal faster. 

The man in front of you had the same thought, but decided to tease you sweetly. “Why so? Is it because I caught you? No, I think you like that, sweet girl,” he said whilst inching his face closer to yours, a calloused hand massaging your left thigh simultaneously. “Or is it because you’ve been trying to make yourself cum all night with no avail?” 

“How did you—” 

“Oh, I would know. There was no scream, no muffled noises of you moaning into your pillow, no heavy breaths that went silent for a moment. Look at you now, you didn’t even take your pretty pussy off this toy the second you saw me,” he said. His hand found its way to your inner thigh, barely touching your dripping heat. However, Eddie did feel the cotton of the pillow and how soaked it was from all your actions earlier tonight. 

In truth, most of it was because of him. Not only the imaginary version in your perverted dreams; but also the continuous touches through the conversation that electrocuted all your senses and went straight to your pussy. Then, there was the fact that Eddie spoke with his lips so close to yours. Every syllable caused the lightest pressure on your glossy lips. Trying not to give in to both of your desires to lean in was the most difficult task of the night. 

“Help me,” you whimpered, the vibrations from the toy getting stronger now. 

“What was that?” he teased, a hand massaging further up your left thigh. 

“Help me, Eddie. I need you to help me so badly.” The words fell from your lips desperately, sounding as if you were about to cry. 

However, the man in front of you kissed your cheek sweetly before leaning back against the headboard. He noticed the way you shivered slightly at the cold air — your blanket only covering your chest and stomach mainly, as it fell from your shoulders a bit. Knowing that you were in such a naughty state in comparison to what you normally portrayed yourself as, was absolutely arousing to Eddie. He didn’t even hide his growing hardness beneath his black dress pants. 

You have never thanked the tailor your father hired more in your entire life. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said in a deep tone. 

 “Well, I opened this toy today and read all the instructions,” you answered truthfully whilst clutching the blanket closer to your body. “After following everything to a tee, I still don’t think I’m doing this right.” 

“You seemed to be having fun along the way,” he teased as he heard you whimper between some of your words. 

“I suppose so,” you nodded along, moving your hips slightly as he spoke to you.  

“So what’s stopping you?” 

In truth, you were on the edge of three things: annoyance, an orgasm, and annoyance due to not having an orgasm. So your body tensed up a bit, causing the toy to be pressed up against your clit even more — it made you whine a bit as you said, “more like who.” 

“Well, if it’s my fault I guess I have to help you now. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do,” Eddie teased, bringing up both hands to cup your face. 

“Please,” you whispered. 

Then, both of you leaned forward at once, capturing each other’s lips in a beautiful kiss that could hardly be seen as chaste. It was a kiss that had been waiting to happen for weeks. To say that this is what dreams were made of would be an understatement. For countless nights, Eddie has woken up in a sweat as he pictured your soft lips on his own, and other parts of his body too. 

“You look like an angel, holy fuck,” Eddie whispered his thoughts aloud as he brought his right hand down to push the blanket away, whilst his right hand involuntarily started to move on its own to grasp your waist and urge it to move atop the vibrator.

“Feels nice when you do that,” you sweetly giggled and moaned. 

“How do you like this?” He asked, squeezing your nipple between two fingers. “Such pretty tits, they’re begging to be sucked on. You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“Y-yes, please.”

They’ve been hard all evening from a mixture of the cold and your intimate thoughts. However, just thinking about Eddie sucking on them was making you clench between your legs. Even these few moments with your bodyguard were much more successful in your pursuit of a climax than what you’ve experienced on your own. 

“Always so polite,” he teased in a voice that vibrated through your body alongside the piece of plastic on your clit. Your hands were on his neck even as he moved down towards your breasts, noting how Eddie really enjoyed it when you lightly tugged on his hair. 

“O-off, take this off,” you tugged on the back of his shirt this time. 

“You know what you want, huh?” 

“Y-yeah,” you said shyly as he sweetly teased you. 

You had always admired Eddie’s tattoos and muscles. But that was something you saw under the flourescent lights of the gym. This time, as he sat in front of you with the glow of your lamp next to him — he was genuinely glowing. Plus, the fact that he was wearing extremely well-fitted pants made him look like he was right out of those fashion magazines where they tried to showcase the pants and abs of the model. Only, Eddie looked so much more god-like than them. 

“Move your hips, doll. Come on, you can take it, I know you want that too,” the man whispered upon your lips after taking off his shirt and then moved his way down to kiss your hardened nipples. 

“It’s so strong, you’re so strong,” referring to the toy’s strengthening vibrations and him. But, you let your body move on its own to whatever felt right. 

The toy was doing a little pattern beneath you, so you moved forwards and backwards in order to see if you could match the intensity of it. Eddie got closer to you, his knee going on top of the pillow and right in between your legs. If he moved it an inch closer to your body, he would be able to move the toy slightly and see your reactions. And so, he did, in between kisses — wanting to drink up your moans of ecstasy, then massaging your tongue with his every time you gasped in pleasure. 

This was the most intense moment you’ve ever experienced with another man. When you lost your virginity a few years ago, it was a one and done type of situation for the guy. While you laid there wanting to crave more, he told you how good you were, then left for the night. So later, even all of the times you’ve tried to use a shower head or your fingers, nothing has ever made you feel this way. You could nearly cry as the amount of vibrations going through your body increased. 

Once Eddie began to kiss down your neck and you tugged the back of his hair without realizing it, he said, “feisty girl.” 

“Can you please touch me there—ah,” you moaned as Eddie bit your neck 

“I can’t do that, sweetheart. You have to do this for yourself. Give into all your needs and desires, self-pleasure is one of the greatest things in the world,” Eddie continued to tease you as his hands roamed your body. 

When his hands landed on your hips, he started to help rock them for you. The vibrations felt so good that you started to tremble; however, something within you wanted so badly to see him shiver as well. So, you moved your own hands slowly — from his shoulders to his stomach, then brushed over his obvious hardness, all before landing on his thigh that was between your legs. “B-but, please —”

“So needy, huh?” Eddie could see the desperation in your nearly tear-filled eyes. “You’re soaking the pillow too.” 

“Too strong,” you nearly screamed out as the man before you moved the pillow slightly to angle the toy on another part of your clit. 

“Go on, you can do it, Princess.”  

“Keep touching me, I need you to, please.” This time, you kissed his neck and began to suck on his pulse point; copying what he was doing to you earlier. 

Fuck — you were going to kill him tonight. If not you, then the way he’s about to cum in his pants would surely knock him out. 

“Will do, just keep going,” Eddie grunted before gently pulling you off of his neck in order to look you in the eyes. “Do what feels right. Tell me what you were doing before I came here,” he kissed you gently as you moaned into his mouth again since a wave of pleasure took over. 

“I-I thought you were busy, then, I started reading this book. It talks about the couple h-having relations.”

“Sex?” he chuckled as you got shy now of all times. 

“Yes, uh-uhm, and then I started to feel warm right here,” you grabbed his wrist and dragged it towards your core. Eddie knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Oh, my naughty girl. This spot?” 

With his ringed-fingers he brushed them over your clit quickly because you deserved a little treat. But, he went further down to touch the toy and move it close and away from your clit at a massaging pattern. He adored how wet you were, and it took every ounce of strength within the man not to lay you down and have a taste until you could orgasm in his mouth instead. Alas, that was for another time. For now, he would memorize the feeling of your slick pussy for when he took care of his problem later. For now, he would treasure every time you whimpered through swollen lips because it was his mouth that helped ruin your lipstick. 

“Yes,” you whispered as you grasped his arm for balance. “And then I just put my toy on top of the pillow because my friends say they love using their pillow to r-ride.” 

“Look at you, already a pro,” he teasingly smiled.

“Eddie,” you moaned louder as you grounded your hips against the toy and pillow. “I wanna ride you so bad. I’ve always wanted to try this position when I had sex for the first time, but the guy never let me,” you continued your little pillow humping confessional.

“He’s an asshole, I would let you ride me until your thighs gave in,” Eddie said with a jealous tone. He really shouldn’t have been because you weren’t his partner. You were also the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, the fact shouldn’t have surprised him so much. However, knowing that another man only wanted to focus on his own pleasure, made Eddie want to scoff. 

Now, you can’t say the first guy was bad at all — he was just never able to get you to where you really needed to go. You never arched your back towards the ceiling because you couldn’t handle the throbbing between your legs; you never had to bite your lip to suppress a moan that would echo through the halls because he didn’t do much to make you be loud; you never scratched his back with your perfectly manicured nails because you needed to let out your waves of pleasure. Not with Eddie though, if anything, he was going to have a scratch or five on different parts of his skin for the next little while. You prayed that no one would notice it if they were training together; however, that was a worry for another time. All you wanted to think about now were the upcoming vibrations and how it would feel when you orgasm for the first time. 

“Will you cum with me, Eddie? I’m so lonely,” you pouted, wanting him to feel pleasure just as much as you were.  

“Keep going, just like that,” Eddie nodded, then leaned back onto the headboard to admire you in the final minutes before your climax. 

The whine from your throat hurt the man as you didn’t feel the warmth of his skin anymore. You leaned your hands on the pillow for leverage, moving your hips harshly to feel an immense level of pleasure in front of him. But, you craved Eddie’s touch so badly that you bit your lip and rested a hand on his knee and squeezed it every time the vibrations became too much. 

“Help,” you whispered. 

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” Eddie groaned as he massaged his hand over his clothed-hardness. “Is your pussy throbbing while you ride your pretty little toy?” 

“So much,” the whimper fell from your lips as you continued to slowly thrust against the toy imagining what it would be like if it was Eddie beneath you and not a small piece of plastic. 

“I can't wait until I stretch you out. You’d take me like a champ.” 

Right then, Eddie unbuckled his pants just enough for you to see that he hadn’t been wearing any boxers beneath. The trail of hair leading towards his hardness was tantalizing, nearly a guide along with his muscles to point to the place you were so curious about. 

Once he noticed that you were hypnotized at the thought of what was going to happen next, the man in front of you stopped his movements to look you in the eyes then roam them down to your core. You got the message and wanted to give your bodyguard a little show. With confidence taking over your body, you sat back up and put both hands on your thighs. Eddie swears that this was a pose right out of his favourite porn magazine — only you looked a thousand times better with swollen lips and sweat glistening your skin in the dimly-lit room.  

“I’d like that a lot,” you whispered in between bounces. 

“Prove it for me, squeeze your tits for me,” Eddie urged you to do so, moving his hands to push his dress pants further down. Just the short glimpse of his cock was enough motivation for you to touch your hardened nipples in front of him. 

“Oh, oh,” you giggled at how good it felt. 

“Feels nice, right?” the man in front of you finally put his hands around his cock and you swear your mouth started to water at the sight. 

Throughout your life, you always giggled alongside any friends at a party who mentioned hookups or flings — all you could ever do was imagine how things looked and felt though, since most of what you did with your previous partner was in the dark and done quickly in the middle of the night. Never once did you think that they were being honest when they talked about the length and girth of the different members they’ve seen.

Oh, how wrong you were. 

Now, as you stared at Eddie in awe of the size of him, you were so wrong to think that they could be exaggerating. Some guys really did have the cock that dirty dreams were made of. As Eddie massaged himself in front of you, you noticed the small details about him. From the colour, to the vein, to the way his balls looked so squishy and large as they laid on his thighs. Fuck, you really did feel like a pervert staring at it for so long and imagining how it would feel like if he was stretching you out right now. Instead, your pussy throbbed at the thought, making you knead your breasts harder and push yourself further upon the vibrator beneath you. 

“I think I like your mouth more,” you said in your trance, knowing your fingers weren’t as soft as his tongue. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whimpered as he marched his hands’ movements with your bounces on the pillow. “Are you close?” 

“Yeah, I think so—ah,” you reached one hand to lay on his knee for leverage as he moved closer to you so that he could massage your thigh with his free hand. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Come all over your pillow and you’ll get a kiss,” Eddie’s breath tingled on your lips as he teased you, his mouth so close to yours whilst his hand got closer to your core. 

You pouted as he began to kiss your cheek and neck but never your needy lips. But, you didn’t have time to be slightly sad, as you felt Eddie’s fingers reach your centre and push the toy onto you. Moans and whines fell from your throat simultaneously as everything began to work in tandem to make you climax — one that you’ve been craving for so long. 

“It’s too much,” you whispered as you felt yourself clench harder and harder, as if your body was getting ready for something.  

“Almost there,” Eddie said in a deep voice into your ear. “I got you,” he said as he pushed it again and again, trying to match it with the hand on his cock. 

The man was so close to orgasming right now, his imagination allowing him to feel your slickness on him. Eddie was chanting a prayer in his head that he could hold on until you came first. In truth, he wanted the image of you finding the climax of your pleasure to be burned into his brain forever. And so, he did everything he could to help you get there — you so desperately needed it. With kisses to your neck, his hand now on your hip to help you ride out your incoming orgasm; you came. Hard. 

Moans of ecstasy filled the room as you found your bliss next to him. Eddie made the fist around his cock harder to imagine it was you who was clenching around him right now. Then, your voice whispered above him. 

“Kiss me, please—” 

“So good, so beautiful,” Eddie obliged happily. “Fuck, how are you glowing right now?” 

“Eddie, more,” you begged into his lips. 

“I-I, fuck , you’re—” it was Eddie’s turn to become incoherent as he could feel his climax coming. 

You smiled on his lips, slowing your own movements now to watch him. “Are you gonna cum for me too, Eddie?” 

That was it. 

One look in your eyes and those words falling from your lips was more than enough for him to cum in his hand. You both stayed there, sitting up and kissing each other’s lips sweetly as you both basked in the post-climax bliss. 

Eddie thanked God that you had a pretty tissue box on your bedside table, which he was able to use to clean himself up a bit, before holding your face as he kissed you. He noticed that you kept on whimpering and moaning into the kiss still; however, you tried to lift your body up from the pillow. You were so sensitive down there now, that although the vibrations felt so nice, you were getting a bit tired from the previous experience. 

So, with one hand, Eddie took out the toy from underneath you and turned it off whilst still kissing you. 

“I’ve dreamed about this a million times before and it’s better than I ever could have imagined,” he said into your lips, and then looked down to see the little pink piece of plastic that brought you to orgasm. It was soaked with all your juices, and Eddie’s intrusive thoughts told him to have a taste. But your soft voice brought him out of a haze. 

“You dream about me?” 

“Every night,” he smiled before laying the toy on the bedside table and involuntarily licking one of his fingers. 

“Am I dreaming now?” you lightly gasped at his actions. 

The man savoured the taste quickly before kissing you again and laying you down on the fluffy pillows. “Not at all.” 

As you lay on the bed on top of light grey sheets, Eddie swears that you are officially the closest to an angel he has ever stood near. The soft light reflecting on your sheets and skin made you look like you were glowing, with a halo on your head as you basked in the post-orgasmic bliss. The moment you looked up at him with soft eyes, he promised himself that he would do anything to experience this moment over and over. 

With a touch to the side of his face, you smiled at the way his eyes focused on everything about you, just as you did the same. “Would what we did tonight happen in a wet dream? Because it sure does feel that way,” you giggled as you got comfortable with him laying slightly on top of you.  

“Well, then let me help clean you up,” Eddie kissed you deeply again, adoring the way this angle allowed him to hold your body, and feel every time you arched your back up slightly to feel each other’s skin again. When you moaned into his mouth after he squeezed your ass gently, Eddie smiled against your lips. 

“I can grab a towel from the washroom,” you whispered as he moved down to kiss your neck, a move he found you loved so much that it made your hips meet up to massage your heat against his thigh for some semblance of extra relief. 

“No, no, we don’t need that just yet,” he mentioned as his voice vibrated through your entire body. The second the words were said, Eddie began to allow his lips to roam down your body, kissing your stomach before looking up at you. “Because I’ve dreamed about kissing you in one other place, only if you would want me to, of course.” 

It was in that moment that you both realized that dreams had their own way of coming true, and it was all part of fate's plan. If someone were to tell the former Dealer that after years of living in a town he wanted to run away from, he was able to do so and find a high-job, he would never believe you. If the reason he was able to find someone he found peace with, was all because of a slip of paper with an address, he would never believe you. That although, right now, as you lay in bed with him, he thought he was going to wake up from one of the greatest dreams he has ever had. Yet, he wasn't dreaming in the slightest. This was his real life, a life he was able to treasure all thanks to a book he found in a cabin on the lake. 

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