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ja3hwa · 1 month ago

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♡ 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐆𝐢 ♡

Day Twenty One - Sex pollen

【Synopsis】 : It's just one quick to your home planet. It's just one dangerous plant for collection. Nothing can go wrong, right... right?

『Word count』 : 4.16k

-> Genre: Smut. Sci-fi. Alien Au.

Pairing: Human!JongGi x Alien!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Dirty talk. Clumsy Mingi. Friends who wanna fuck? Kissing. Double penetration. Multiple orgasms. Fingering. Spanking. Unprotected sex. Dub-con (cause you... exotic sex potent plant). Pet names. Both boys are well off, hehe. Some sappy moments with a light sprinkle of angst.

Network: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Note: Thank you again, my baby, @skteezcursed for the brainstorming. Hehe. You helped me so much with so many days, I swear to god. Idk how to repay you. ♡ i love you so much.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

You stared out the viewport of the cargo ship as it travelled at speed unimaginable through the cosmos. The familiar colours and stars of your galaxy were in the shimmering distance. That's when you spotted your home, Xyphor, excitement bubbling in your gut as you quickly looked over to the men beside you. Jongo and Mingi, two of your closest friends, by your side to see your home for the first time.

Your mission was simple: pick up one of the rarest plants that is native to Xyphor and deliver it to the research facility in the other star system. The base where you and your team are located. You sighed at the thought. It wasn’t just any plant, and this mission had to be performed delicately. You were starting to doubt Captain Hongjoongs choice to give you Mingi. But alas, you did need the muscle, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

Looking over the papers on the desk beside you. You took in the sketches you had done of the plant. The Blumina blossom is known for its vibrant colours and unique properties. It was said to bloom once every three decades and had the most potent pollen in the surrounding galaxies—a fact you were all too familiar with having studied the flora and fauna on your plant since you were young.

"You ready for this?" Jongho's voice scared you for a moment, making you jump from your thoughts. You watched as he tightened the straps on his gloves.

"Of course." You smiled, your tone lacing with excitement, as you checked your equipment once more on your belt, trying to find something to fiddle with to calm your nerves. “How could we say no to a trip to my home planet?”

“It'll be like a walk in the park!” Mingi added, a little bit too carefree as he hoisted the cargo containment canisters, airtight glass vessels designed to hold the Blumina Blossom securely.

You felt a momentary pang of worry surge through your body. “Just be careful with that, Mingi. It’s very fragile.” Your hands instantly come up as if to help the tall man. Jongho just laughed, heading back over to the cockpit to turn the autopilot off so he could land the ship on at the station fill-up stop.

Mingi waved you off, a tremendously confident grin plastered across his face as if he wouldn't take his eyes off you. “Pfft! Don’t worry about me., Dollface” He gingerly walked toward the cargo bay, which was filled with a mix of excitement and tension. Mingi was known to tease you with his clumsiness, throwing stuff around carelessly just to see your shocked reaction. But he always managed to still break something by the end of it, so you could see why your worries were always so high, and your expectations ran low.

"I'll always worry about you..." You groaned lightly while pinching the bridge of your nose before heading over to the cockpit so you could take your navigator's seat next to Jongho. The landing was smooth, just like Jongho's lands in the previous times you've rode with him. And the moment you all arrived on Xyphor, the beauty of the planet struck in your hearts like seeing a new colour for the first time. Oh, how you've missed it. Stepping out of the ship, you take in the vibrant landscapes. The endless hills and forestry were nothing but mesmerising. However, your focus was quick to shift back onto the assignment. Pushing both men towards the exotic greenhouse, where the Blumina Blossom could finally be found. Already trimmed and ready for departure, among a few other non-toxic plant life that was also being exported.

“Here it is!” You pointed, your voice filled with enthusiasm as you approached the display of beautiful flowers, spotting the small hypnotising purple-leafed flower in the centre. Turning your back to it you open the menu log on the tablet that sat on the table beside the display case, examining the instructions for safely extracting. That was when you noticed Mingi stepping a little too close for your comfort, his nose just barely brushing the thin glass cabinet, eyes widening with curiosity.

“Just a second, Mingi!” You exclaimed, but it was too late. With a careless twist, Mingi's nose bumped the glass, making the whole container shake, and before he knew it, the press-to-open glass door swung open leaving him vulnerable in front of all the exotic plants that his body would not be accustomed to. The plants, all suddenly agitated by his presence, swayed, and the Blumina released a cloud of bright lilac pollen, enveloping him in a sparkling haze.

“Mingi, no!” You shouted, rushing over to try to pull him back.

"Hey guys there's a...oh my god!!” Jongho gasps as his jaw hangs open to see the large man stepping back towards him in a quick haste. In panic, Mingi bumped into Jongho, who had been working outside the containment to look over and try to figure out just how to navigate the alarming situation. The new fresh container slipped from Jongho’s grasp, and in a flurry, it shattered on the ground.

“No!” Your heart raced as pollen erupted into the room, showering all of you in a thick fog. You swiftly closed your eyes, instinctively leaning away, but it was too late, some of the pollen was already in your system, along with both men as Mingi had already inhaled deeply prior, eyes widening as he staggered backwards and Jongho caught a puff of pollen while he instinctively reached for his teammate. Your effort to quickly pull them both away was deemed useless as the damage was already done.

“Ugh, it burns!” Jongho gasped, wiping his forehead in a sudden cold sweat. Mingi was fanning his face, his expression shifting from confused to wild-eyed.

“What is happening?” Mingi stammered, shaking his head as if trying to clear the fog, almost entranced by swirling particles around him.

You tried to gather your bearings, brushing your limbs over to get the pollen off your slightly bluish skin. Shaking your head you could feel your horns tangled slightly in your hair, “This isn’t good. The Blumina Blossom’s pollen is potent and—” You gulp, your vision clearing as you see both men on the floor in confusion.

“It’s making me feel… funny,” Jongho chimed in, a blush creeping up his neck, his breath coming out in rapid puffs.

Suddenly, Mingi grabbed Jongho’s arm. “I feel really warm. Like, really warm,” he said, his eyes darting around, pupils dilating to almost consume his brown gaze completely. “..I think…” he trailed off, gulping audibly as confusion melted into something more primal. His gaze suddenly snapped to you.

“You both are gonna start experiencing the symptoms.” You rushed as reality hit you like a storm, turning for the rows of cupboards, opening each door in quickened anxiety. Your friends weren’t native, so you’ve never seen or known another creature other than a Xyphorian and other nearby lifeforms to have ever been in contact with the flora before.., “The plant’s pollen has intoxicating properties. It activates…” You took a hitched breath as you began to throw bottles and anything that was in your way, reading each label before discarding it if it wasn't what you were looking for.

“Just tell us!” Mingi shouted, growing in worry. Jongho managed to stand, using the various tables and shelves to wobble to you. His blazing hot hand touched your slightly warm skin making you jump, finally turning to him with tears in your eyes.

“What is going to happen to us? What does this plant do?.” Jongho tried his best to keep his voice stable but you could hear the slight crack in it.

Realising how awkward it sounded but pressed on, snapping your gazes to Mingi, back to Jongho as you knitted your brows. “It activates mating instincts…”

The boys’ eyes widened, their brains finally catching up with the reality of their situation. It was a sexually heightening pollen. A plant genetic that is usually only used by people native to the plant and since Mingi and Jongho were only human Mars-born, the alien properties would most likely be much worse than when a native, like yourself, gets infected. “O-okay…”

Jongho tried to think for a moment, keeping his hand on your shoulder as he swallowed the growing ball of saliva in his mouth, “What can we do.”

“There might be an antigen but preparing it will take too long and by then you both will….” You covered your mouth, feeling as if you were going to be sick. Jongho moved to hold both of your shoulders, feeling sharp pains shoot up his spine as his cock was growing harder and harder by the second. But he tried to comfort you, he needed to.

“What is the other option? Come on Honey, what are you not telling us?”

“You can…” Your eyes met his and all of a sudden every word you spoke became very, very real. “M-mate…with me.”

“Okay, let's do that, we’ll—” Jongho became flustered, his gaze avoiding yours as he couldn’t seem to finish his sentence, his attraction to you evident in his fiery eyes as he looked over to Mingi.

“Me too! I mean, I’ve thought about…A lot” Mingi’s voice cut in, vibrating with urgency as he palmed his cock slightly “But, Doll, uh..only if you want to..”

“I don’t really have a choice, Mingi.” You snapped, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter by the second, even though you didn’t feel the symptoms as strongly as them. You blinked through watery lashes, your heart racing as you tried to handle the escalating emotions of your friends, their confessions surprising yet stirring something within you. You had dreamt of this confession, but it had happened so differently in your mind than what the universe had planned it seems. You wanted it to be filled with laughter, soft lingering touches, and passion. Not raw desperation and two of their lives hanging in the balance. And little did you know, with each word they uttered and every passing second, the symptoms worsened, clouding their judgement and inhibitions and making their tongue loosen.

Before you could fully register what was happening, Mingi had gotten up off the floor to step closer, invading your personal space in the blink of an eye. “Doll, please,” he urged, his voice low, filled with need.

“Just—give me a moment to think!” You closed your eyes, voice stammered, but your mind was clouding, too. Your needs taking control. The boys were handsome, their eyes aflame with desperation, and with your own feelings growing, you felt on the precipice of a decision that could change everything. "Mating in my culture is sacred. The pollen is normally used for royals on their wedding nights… it's just…” You felt an overwhelming sense of pain surge through you knowing your history, your ancestry and everything you had wished for since you were young has now been thrown out the window. And it wasn’t that you were unhappy you would have to mate with either of them. You just never would have thought it would have ended up this way. “I don't want to fuck anything up. Our friendship... It's everything to me."

You looked through a hazy stare from Jongho to Mingi, their need palpable like a magnetic pull. In that moment, with hearts racing and pheromones making a heady mix, you wanted to give in. Embracing the chaos of the moment, you couldn't help but step forward, blending your body against Mingi's, feeling the heat radiate off him. Jongho quickly came up behind you, his lips finding your shoulder as he whispered. "None of this will ruin our friendship. And we understand. We are not Xyphorian, we don’t share the same history and views on sex and mating. But know, we love you in more ways than you could ever imagine. You want to stay friends after this, perfect, we can go on as if this was just another one of Mingi's clumsy mistakes. But if you're willing, Mingi and I have wanted nothing more than to have you as ours for a long time..."

"I don't want this to be a mistake... There are no mistakes when it comes to either of you." You leaned to the side to let Jongho have his way with your skin, littering you with gentle kisses. Mingi's hands snake up to grab your hips, his breath pooling on your lips as you are now inches from him. "I want you both... more than friends.”

That was the green light both men were searching for, both nodding eagerly as the fog completely consumed them. "Let's get back to the ship."

Jongho quickly took in Mingi's words, leaning down to spin you around before picking you up over his shoulder. Your shorts were slowly riding up to expose your ass and Mingi instantly took notice of this, swearing under his breath as his fingers touched your blue flesh, pinching your cheeks delicately. Your yelp made them chuckle, watching Jongho bring up his hand to the slit of your ass cheeks, moving the rough fabric of your pants and panties out of the way to expose the wet slick leaking from your clenching hole. "Fucking hell."

"Let's start getting you ready Honey." Jongho slipped his pointer and middle finger inside you with ease, drawing a long staggering whine from you. Mingi wide-stepped until he was behind you both, your face at perfect height level for him to grab you in an awkward but exciting kiss. Your whines were swallowed by Mingi as you felt Jongho pumper in a sporadic rhythm, more focused on not dropping you than fingering your tight hole. “Fuck she’s squeezing me.”

“I can’t wait to feel you around me. I feel like I'm gonna explode any second.” Mingi’s voice stuttered against your swollen lips as they quickly headed for the bedroom quarter in the ship, never leaving your cunt or mouth for a second. It wasn't until they made it to Mingi's quarters that they let you breathe, throwing you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. You knew Jongho was strong, but this was definitely an eye-opener. Your eyes wandered over both of them, taking note of the sweat practically dripping off their faces onto their clothing while their cheeks were flustered and their breaths were staggering. The symptoms were increasing by the second but you had to admit both of them seemed to be holding it together far better than anyone you’ve seen in the past. Normally most half-Xyphorian or other outer world men and women would be crying, begging messes by now, needing to be filled, stuffed or to empty their load. But, No, Mingi and Jongho were in fact, acting more like full-blooded Xyphorians. As if the lingering fiery feeling in their gut wasn't causing a pain unimaginable to surge through their simple human bodies.

They were a lot stronger than you thought.

But in truth they were both about to lose it if they didn't have their way with you in the next few moments. But it was their compassion, their love to make sure you were okay with everything that kept them from pressing further. The ball was in your court and you chose to push both of them, slipping out of your shorts and shirt effortlessly. Their eyes never left your body as you went to unclip the back of your bra. “Fuck if I wasn't feeling like my skin was on fire I’d enjoy this show a lot more.”

“I have to agree, Min. Our girl is giving us a perfect show but yet this silly plant has made our patience wear thin.” Jongho’s grunt was nothing you’d ever heard before, coming from the man. His voice, normally smooth and buttery, was now gravelled and lustful. He was quick to grab your ankles, yanking you towards the edge of the bed until your legs hung on either side of his thick frame. Your eyes bored holes into Jongho’s figure as he ridded himself of his shirt and pants. Mingi was right beside him also doing the same. Everything was happening so fast, but the growing fire in their guts was telling them it was not fast enough.

Jongho’s fingers found the band on your panties, pulling the fabric taut until he could hear a rip before it snapped cleanly in two. You have never seen a hotter thing in your life, “Fuck Jongho…”

“Don’t worry honey, I'll make sure we have our full.” The pollen has completely consumed them now, the only thoughts clouding their minds was filling you up with their seed. The need to breed reaching its peak. Mingi took a seat next to your head on the soft bed, his cock merely inches from your face but it was Jongho who took your thoughts as the tip of his dick smacked lightly against your exposed cunt. “Take a deep breath, baby.”

You obeyed, feeling Jongho sink completely inside you, hard and in one rough thrust. All the extra slick your body had created from the ingestion of pollen had made it easier for Jongho to snuggle right inside your quivering hole. With a clammy palm he wiped his brow of sweat, bringing your left leg over his shoulder, while the right found place tightly wrapped around his waist. His hand gripped your knee tightly as he began to drill inside you forcibly, almost knocking out the air in your lungs.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” You screamed, never feeling such an intense feeling before. You’ve had sex before in your life but there was something about the mating ritual, along with the pollen that had made this experience all the more heightened and erotic. Your hand instinctively went beside you, finding Mingi’s angry red cock waiting. You grabbed the base of the shaft tightly, making the poor human whimper out a high-pitched sob. Just the feeling of your delicate fingers was almost enough to make him empty his load. But he bit back another sob as your mouth kissed along each vein, your tongue curling around him, lubing his cock up with your saliva. Mingi’s hand which wasn’t holding him up, found a place on your breast, squeezing and pinching the flesh roughly between his calloused fingers, causing your hips to buck and your mind to grow more foggy by the extra stimulation.

It didn’t take long for Jongho’s hips to stutter, the heat circling in his body began to migrate from all parts of him to just his gut, feeling the twist and twine of desire forming into a tight band, “Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer, Honey. I need you to cum for me so I empty my load into your pretty pussy. Do you think you can do that for me, baby?”

“Fuck, nmargh.” You cried, feeling his hips slap more firmly against you. Never in your life would you have taken Jongho, sweet quiet Jongho to be a filthy talker. A part of you wondered if it was the pollen making him say such things or not but his thumb found your clit you no longer care for the answer. “I’m gonna…”

You didn’t finish your sentence, your hand tightening around Mingi’s cock while your mouth fell back onto it in a heated haze of desire. Your walls clenched around Jongho, sucking him in as he snapped his hips in a staggering rhythm. Snap, pauce, snap pause. His balls hitting your ass every time as his pelvis lands flush against you. Jongho came to a stop, his fingers rubbing you in tight circles to draw out your climax while he came deep inside you, filling you up with his never-ending cum. “God, your cunt is sucking me in baby. So, argh, fucking…” He drilled his hips a few more times, “Tight…”

Mingi quickly got up in an almost drunken haze, your watery eyes open just ajar to see, both men switch their positions. Jongho, dropped your aching legs to fall beside you on the large bed while Mingi seemingly took Jongho’s old place. “Come here, Honey.” Jongho’s sombrous voice drew your attention as he grabbed you under your arms to pull you up with no effort until you were lying on top of him. Your back snuggly against his chest. His large hand cupped your chin, tilting your head to his so his mouth could find yours. His free hand reached up to your little horns, successfully holding you in place.

Mingi, on the other hand, leaned forward between your legs so he could latch his mouth against your nipples, littering your chest with sloppy wet kisses and nibbles. Your breasts were completely covered with marks before Mingi deemed himself ready to move, sitting up straight so he was in line with your soaked cunt. He sunk in with one long, desperate thrust, letting all his girth slip inside you. Your whines were quickly swallowed by Jongho as Mingi began drilling into you without any warning. The sting was pleasuring, clenching tightly around his thick length, trying desperately to get used to his longer size.

"Fuck this is the most perfect fucking pussy." It was Mingi's turn now to spill filth, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders so he could bend you in half, fucking your deeper and fuller. "Shit, I'm not gonna last. Fuck, fuck."

The pollen had seemingly shortened their length of lasting to a climax but almost tripled their stamina. You could feel Jonghos angrily hard cock flushed against you while he felt the brew of fire in his gut creeping its way back. So it was going to take more than one load to get the pollen out of their system, it seemed. Mingi felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he hiccuped a whine. He wanted to last longer. He needed to, but you were so warm, so tight and welcoming. Everything about your pretty body was too perfect, making his hips stutter and legs shake.

"Fuck I'm sorry I'm, nargh c..coming, shit." Mingi gasped stilling his hips to empty his thick ropes into your gummy walls, basking in the way you flutter against him as you felt yourself get filled to the brim.

"Mingi...Jongho..." You pleaded, needing to let go yourself. You were so close, but you needed more. More of them. "P-please.."

Jongho heard your cries and quickly jumped into action, shifting down while spreading his legs so he could plant his left foot up, angling you so the tip of his cock was pressed firmly against where Mingi was still connected to you. His lips tickled your ear as he grunted against you. "Take a deep breath, baby."

You listened with a sharp scream as you felt Jongho sink into your sensitive hole, stretching you out to fit snuggly beside Mingi. Both men couldn't help but choke out groans of their own, Mingi whining your name on repeat while Jongho's pants got deeper and faster. The sensation of both of their cocks inside you was enough to get you to come then and there but it was when they started moving that your mind seemed to snap. "Fuck, so b-big. So much. Fuck, Min, Jjong. Nnargnng~."

They fucked you at different paces, feeling each other slide against one another. Letting both men feel each ridge and vein of the other. Your hand flew to your clit, rubbing tight circles as you felt yourself tip of the edge. "Fucckkk."

Your juices came out quicker than a waterfall, damping the sheets, both men and some of the floor. The way your pussy clamped down causes both of them to drive their cocks in you at a speed that causes the air to get hitched in your lungs with a silent scream. The feeling of them emptying their seed deep inside you at the same time caused your eyes to roll back and a shiver down your spine. Mingi and Jongho slowed their thrusts until they both came to a complete stop, the firing sensation prickling under your skin finally dying down. There was finally a moment of peace as the pollen began to dissipate from your systems. Your face squashed against Jongho's sweaty chest, letting you find comfort in his strong heartbeat, taking in his scent while you felt Mingi lean down, kissing along your neck lazily.

In the end, the Blumina Blossom might have caused a mess, but it opened the door to an adventure that was both unexpected and embraced with open hearts. And as stars twinkled outside the hull of the ship, showing the evening transition to night, you, Jongho, and Mingi nestled closer stealing the heat from one another as sleep was quick to take hold of your aching limbs.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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The tax sharks are back and they’re coming for your home

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TODAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

One of my weirder and more rewarding hobbies is collecting definitions of "conservativism," and one of the jewels of that collection comes from Corey Robin's must-read book The Reactionary Mind:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Reactionary_Mind

Robin's definition of conservativism has enormous explanatory power and I'm always finding fresh ways in which it clarifies my understand of events in the world: a conservative is someone who believes that a minority of people were born to rule, and that everyone else was born to follow their rules, and that the world is in harmony when the born rulers are in charge.

This definition unifies the otherwise very odd grab-bag of ideologies that we identify with conservativism: a Christian Dominionist believes in the rule of Christians over others; a "men's rights advocate" thinks men should rule over women; a US imperialist thinks America should rule over the world; a white nationalist thinks white people should rule over racialized people; a libertarian believes in bosses dominating workers and a Hindu nationalist believes in Hindu domination over Muslims.

These people all disagree about who should be in charge, but they all agree that some people are ordained to rule, and that any "artificial" attempt to overturn the "natural" order throws society into chaos. This is the entire basis of the panic over DEI, and the brainless reflex to blame the Francis Scott Key bridge disaster on the possibility that someone had been unjustly promoted to ship's captain due to their membership in a disfavored racial group or gender.

This definition is also useful because it cleanly cleaves progressives from conservatives. If conservatives think there's a natural order in which the few dominate the many, progressivism is a belief in pluralism and inclusion, the idea that disparate perspectives and experiences all have something to contribute to society. Progressives see a world in which only a small number of people rise to public life, rarified professions, and cultural prominence and assume that this is terrible waste of the talents and contributions of people whose accidents of birth keep them from participating in the same way.

This is why progressives are committed to class mobility, broad access to education, and active programs to bring traditionally underrepresented groups into arenas that once excluded them. The "some are born to rule, and most to be ruled over" conservative credo rejects this as not just wrong, but dangerous, the kind of thing that leads to bridges being demolished by cargo ships.

The progressive reforms from the New Deal until the Reagan revolution were a series of efforts to broaden participation in every part of society by successively broader groups of people. A movement that started with inclusive housing and education for white men and votes for white women grew to encompass universal suffrage, racial struggles for equality, workplace protections for a widening group of people, rights for people with disabilities, truth and reconciliation with indigenous people and so on.

The conservative project of the past 40 years has been to reverse this: to return the great majority of us to the status of desperate, forelock-tugging plebs who know our places. Hence the return of child labor, the tradwife movement, and of course the attacks on labor unions and voting rights:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

Arguably the most potent symbol of this struggle is the fight over homes. The New Deal offered (some) working people a twofold path to prosperity: subsidized home-ownership and strong labor protections. This insulated (mostly white) workers from the two most potent threats to working peoples' lives and wellbeing: the cruel boss and the greedy landlord.

But the neoliberal era dispensed with labor rights, leaving the descendants of those lucky workers with just one tool for securing their American dream: home-ownership. As wages stagnated, your home – so essential to your ability to simply live – became your most important asset first, and a home second. So long as property values rose – and property taxes didn't – your home could be the backstop for debt-fueled consumption that filled the gap left by stagnating wages. Liquidating your family home might someday provide for your retirement, your kids' college loans and your emergency medical bills.

For conservatives who want to restore Gilded Age class rule, this was a very canny move. It pitted lucky workers with homes against their unlucky brethren – the more housing supply there was, the less your house was worth. The more protections tenants had, the less your house was worth. The more equitably municipal services (like schools) were distributed, the less your house was worth:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/06/the-rents-too-damned-high/

And now that the long game is over, they're coming for your house. It started with the foreclosure epidemic after the 2008 financial crisis, first under GW Bush, but then in earnest under Obama, who accepted the advice of his Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, who insisted that homeowners should be liquidated to "foam the runways" for the crashing banks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

Then there are scams like "We Buy Ugly Houses," a nationwide mass-fraud outfit that steals houses out from under elderly, vulnerable and desperate people:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

The more we lose our houses, the more single-family homes Wall Street gets to snap up and convert into slum properties, aslosh with a toxic stew of black mold, junk fees and eviction threats:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/08/wall-street-landlords/#the-new-slumlords

Now there's a new way for finance barons the steal our houses out from under us – or rather, a very old way that had lain dormant since the last time child labor was legal – "tax lien investing."

Across the country, counties and cities have programs that allow investment funds to buy up overdue tax-bills from homeowners in financial hardship. These "investors" are entitled to be paid the missing property taxes, and if the homeowner can't afford to make that payment, the "investor" gets to kick them out of their homes and take possession of them, for a tiny fraction of their value.

As Andrew Kahrl writes for The American Prospect, tax lien investing was common in the 19th century, until the fundamental ugliness of the business made it unattractive even to the robber barons of the day:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-04-26-investing-in-distress-tax-liens/

The "tax sharks" of Chicago and New York were deemed "too merciless" by their peers. One exec who got out of the business compared it to "picking pennies off a dead man’s eyes." The very idea of outsourcing municipal tax collection to merciless debt-hounds fell aroused public ire.

Today – as the conservative project to restore the "natural" order of the ruled and the ruled-over builds momentum – tax lien investing is attracting some of America's most rapacious investors – and they're making a killing. In Chicago, Alden Capital just spent a measly $1.75m to acquire the tax liens on 600 family homes in Cook County. They now get to charge escalating fees and penalties and usurious interest to those unlucky homeowners. Any homeowner that can't pay loses their home.

The first targets for tax-lien investing are the people who were the last people to benefit from the New Deal and its successors: Black and Latino families, elderly and disabled people and others who got the smallest share of America's experiment in shared prosperity are the first to lose the small slice of the American dream that they were grudgingly given.

This is the very definition of "structural racism." Redlining meant that families of color were shut out of the federal loan guarantees that benefited white workers. Rather than building intergenerational wealth, these families were forced to rent (building some other family's intergenerational wealth), and had a harder time saving for downpayments. That meant that they went into homeownership with "nontraditional" or "nonconforming" mortgages with higher interest rates and penalties, which made them more vulnerable to economic volatility, and thus more likely to fall behind on their taxes. Now that they're delinquent on their property taxes, they're in hock to a private equity fund that's charging them even more to live in their family home, and the second they fail to pay, they'll be evicted, rendered homeless and dispossessed of all the equity they built in their (former) home.

It's very on-brand for Alden Capital to be destroying the lives of Chicagoans. Alden is most notorious for buying up and destroying America's most beloved newspapers. It was Alden who bought up the Chicago Tribune, gutted its workforce, sold off its iconic downtown tower, and moved its few remaining reporters to an outer suburban, windowless brick building "the size of a Chipotle":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/16/sociopathic-monsters/#all-the-news-thats-fit-to-print

Before the ghastly hotel baroness Leona Helmsley went to prison for tax evasion, she famously said, "We don't pay taxes; only the little people pay taxes." Helmsley wasn't wrong – she was just a little ahead of schedule. As Propublica's IRS Files taught us, America's 400 richest people pay less tax than you do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/13/for-the-little-people/#leona-helmsley-2022

When billionaires don't pay their taxes, they get to buy sports franchises. When poor people don't pay their taxes, billionaires get to steal their houses after paying the local government an insultingly small amount of money.

It's all going according to plan. We weren't meant to have houses, or job security, or retirement funds. We weren't meant to go to university, or even high school, and our kids were always supposed to be in harness at a local meat-packer or fast food kitchen, not wasting time with their high school chess club or sports team. They don't need high school: that's for the people who were born to rule. They – we – were meant to be ruled over.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/26/taxes-are-for-the-little-people/#alden-capital

#pluralistic #chicago #illinois #alden capital #the rents too damned high #debt #immiseration #chicago tribune #private equity #vulture capital #cook county #liens #tax evasion #taxes are for the little people #tax lien certificates #tax sharks #race #racial capitalism #predatory lending

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stumpyjoepete · 2 months ago

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Thinking a bit more about Megalopolis (see prev post). It's not really the case that the script is as disjointed or schizophrenic as my post makes it out to be. The central plot is pretty simple: an egotistical city planner has an ambitious and futuristic vision for redeveloping the city, and he butts heads with the Mayor and others who oppose him in this. He ultimately succeeds in building his utopian "megalopolis". Everyone is happy, the end.

And yet.

There's this... intense centrifugal force that prevents everything from cohering into a unified whole. It's like a puzzle where all the pieces are cut from the same picture, but upon closer inspection, no two pieces quite fit together. Or like that collection of nonsensical objects. A fork where the tines and the handle are connected by a chain. A watering can with the spout facing the wrong way. A quick glance leaves you confused, and that confusion is only deepened by further contemplation.

I think this is especially clear in the pseudo-intellectualism of the title cards, narration, monologues, and quotations/references:

Laurence Fishburne does this heavy-handed narration at the beginning and end of the movie (and several random points in between). And there are these associated title cards that look like they were made by applying an "Ancient Rome" theme to some PowerPoint slides. "Or will we too fall victim, like old Rome, to the insatiable appetite for power of a few men?" My brother in Christ, you are making a movie where the hero is named Cesar, and the happy ending is when he successfully pulls a Robert Moses. This is not a story about power corrupting or good intentions going awry. What are you doing???

Cesar Catilina interrupts Mayor Cicero's speech (where he is introducing a plan to build a casino) in order to lay out an early plan for "megalopolis", which is an ambitious and long-term alternative to the (short-term) casino plan. He prefaces his megalopolis pitch by reciting the Hamlet soliloquy. What exactly does Coppola think "To Be Or Not To Be" is about? He must thinks it means, "I am a dark and brooding bad-boy intellectual", since it's hard to see how "I'd like to kill myself, but I fear death" fits into an argument about the importance of long-term thinking in urban planning.

Cesar says several negative things about "civilization". "[Imagine] humanity as an old tree with one misguided branch called civilization... going nowhere." (Shot of notebook shows an illustration with 'war' and 'cruelty' offshoots from said branch.) "Emerson said the end of the human race will be that we'll eventually die of civilization." (Note: unsourced, probably fake quote.) "Civilization itself remains the great enemy of mankind." Umm... you're an urban planner! You're doing a high modernism. What exactly does it mean for you to call civilization the enemy? Is "megalopolis" somehow anti-civilization because it looks like a Georgia O'Keefe painting instead of a bunch of straight lines and right angles? Will the "war" and "cruelty" branches wither and die when buildings have labia?

Also, there's this amazing line read that completely inverts the meaning of a fake Marcus Aurelius quote (the quote was attributed to him by Tolstoy but is not actually something he said). "The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape... finding yourself in the ranks of the insane." Why did you put in that pause??? Fake Marcus Aurelius is turning in his grave! You're supposed to be fleeing FROM the ranks of the insane! I suppose this isn't really inconsistent with the characterization of Cesar, it's just such a fucking batshit thing to say.

All of the cargo-cult intellectualism listed above could perhaps be excused if the vision that the film is supposedly about had any content whatsoever. Or, alternatively, if the movie was about something more substantive, and the vacuous megalopolis vision took place off-screen in an epilogue, like the "happily ever after" of a children's story. But no! The movie repeatedly interrupts the plot to grab you by the shoulders and scream in your face: "I have a vision! For the future!". And then--now that it has your undivided attention--it shits the bed like a man who has just polished off an entire bag of sugar-free gummy bears and washed them down with a fistful of Ambien:

"Conversation isn't enough. It's the questions that lead it to the next step. But initially, you have to have a conversation. The city itself is immaterial, but they're talking about it for the first time. And it's not just about us talking about it. It's the need to talk about it. It's as urgent to us as air and water."

"Mr. Catalina, you said that as we jump into the future, we should do so unafraid. But what if when we do jump into the future, there is something to be afraid of?" "Well, there's nothing to be afraid of if you love, or have loved. It's an unstoppable force. It's unbreakable. It has no limits. It's within us. It's around us. And it's stretched throughout time. It's nothing you can touch. Yet it guides every decision that we make. But we do have the obligation to each other to ask questions of one another. What can we do? Is this society, is this way we're living, the only one that's available to us? And when we ask these questions, when there's a dialogue about them, that basically is a utopia."

After the revolution, we won't have conflicts anymore; we'll have dialogue instead. We won't have a need for the "jobs" and "sanitation" of "now"; we'll have the "imperishable" "dreams" of "forever". We won't have problems that need solving; we'll all be too busy asking each other questions. Now, if everyone could just shut up and get the hell out of the way and let Cesar implement his vision, then "everyone" will soon be "creating together, learning together, perfecting body and mind." A chorus of children's voices gradually morphing into Laurence Fishburne's, chanting, "One Earth, indivisible, with long life, education and justice for all." It's eschatological anti-politics made entirely from cotton candy. Please, for the love of God, stop making Adam Driver monologue at me! Let's get back to Aubrey Plaza stepping on horny fascist Shia LaBeouf!

The incoherence of Megalopolis's vision is compounded by how anachronistic its depiction of our fallen world is. There are some half-hearted (and ham-fisted) gestures in the Clodio sub-plot towards the dangers of Trumpian populism, but the script was first written in the 80's, and it's extremely obvious that Coppola is writing about New York City in the preceding several decades. The city's finances are in dire straights. (There's literally a "Ford Tells City: Drop Dead" reference!) The city is full of slums, the streets are full of crime, and the elites are all decadent. (For Coppola, decadence means that ladies are doing cocaine and smooching each other in the cluh-ub.) The main character is Neo-Roman Robert Moses, and the conflict of the film is about urban renewal. In case you, like Mr. Coppola, have not been made aware, slum clearance is not a major political issue in 2020's Manhattan.

Two thirds of the way through the movie, a falling Soviet satellite provides a deus ex machina, blowing up the financial district and clearing space for megalopolis to take its place. Ironically, a previous attempt to produce the film came to its abrupt end when two planes flew into some buildings in the financial district. Perhaps you heard about it. The financial backers of the film at the time considered Megalopolis's plot a bit too close to current events for comfort and withdrew their support.

But Coppola's depiction of Manhattan was already decades out of date by then. Moses stepped down in '60. Jacobs' book railing against urban renewal came out in '61. The Power Broker came out in '74. One presumes popular opinion of Robert Moses soured in the following years. The crisis of the city's finances that peaked in '75 was over by '81 when NYC balanced its budget and reentered the bond market. The crime wave of the 70's and 80's had receded by the year 2000. The demand for housing in NYC proper is as high as it ever has been, and it's only getting higher. Megalopolis imagines America as an incoherent mishmash of several decades of mid-century NYC, dressed up in the toga of the late Roman Republic, calling out for (Robert) Moses to part the slums and take us into a promised land that is literally beyond any description, and whose only concrete feature seems to be glowing people-movers.

A Robert Moses with the power to stop time, at that!

Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Cesar discovers he has the power to stop time in the opening scene of the film. I forgot because it's literally irrelevant to the plot. Time stops a few times, and then it starts back up again, and the events of the film just plod inexorably forward. For a movie as temporally dislocated as Metropolis, perhaps that's just as well.

#megalopolis

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luxysims · 6 months ago

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Cargo pants - Men Essentials Collection

Hi! These are a cargo pants for the Men Essentials Collection 😊

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azrielwingspan · 5 months ago

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RED SERPENT (Mob! Bucky x f!reader)

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

You had always associated the colour blue with peace. Clear skies and vast oceans , their expanse making one seem insignificant. It grounded you and reminded you that there are greater forces at play.

That was a year ago.

Now, you associate the colour blue with James Bucky Buchanan Barnes.

King of New York.

The White Wolf.

Your husband.

Smoldering blue flames blazed in his eyes, all consuming and enrapturing. You were yet to figure out how they made you feel. For now, you watched as the steel blue gaze was directed at the man in front of him.

"This is the second time this month , Wilson. I'm going to give you a minute to explain." His tone indicated that he was anything but patient, brewing with explosive anger.

Sam Wilson was Bucky's head of security. His loyalty and discipline throughout the years was the only reason he was given time to explain himself. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead.

Reading the underlying threat in Bucky's words, Sam explained tensely, "There was a fire. Half the men were pulled to control it and the rest were reassigned. Whoever it was, struck then. The fire was the distraction."

A muscle ticked in Bucky's jaw as he restrained himself from lashing out. You sat by his side, ever the pretty wife, not moving an inch. Face devoid of any emotion, you leaned forward with feline like grace.

"Sam, how are you planning on luring the culprit?"

His eyes flicked to you, the slight relief passing through them not escaping your notice. You were far less intimidating than your darling husband. Albeit, far more venomous than anyone realized. One couldn't be married to a madman without having a certain...mental disposition.. as you liked to put it.

"We narrowed it down to Alexander Pierce. Haven't gotten the proof yet but his men's movements over the past few days suggest so."

"Interesting." you lean back in your seat, watching your husband from the corner of your eye. He seemed to calm down and collect his thoughts. Good.

That's how it had been over the past year. Bucky would lose his cool at the snap of a finger and you would garner attention in your direction to give him time to collect himself. A game. Every single moment of the day.

Power came to those who knew how to play the game.

"Did you deal with the police?" Bucky asked finally, his voice steady.

"Yeah, covered it up as a generator blast. Told our man in the department that we would deal with these fuckers on our own." Sam spat out, anger clouding his eyes.

Ugh, men. This was exactly what the other side wanted. Anger to cloud their vision.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to intervene yet again. "Set up a bait."

Bucky's head finally snapped in your direction as you held back a smirk. You'd merely thrown a hint. They could build on it, couldn't they?

"That could work." Bucky said, his eyes roaming over your face. Turning back towards Sam, he continued "Another shipment scheduled a week from now. No product at all, just empty cargo. Increase security around the yard. Meanwhile, I'll redirect shipments and deal with the clients."

Sam nodded his head in agreement and stayed for a bit longer as the two smoothed out the plan. Not finding any reason to pipe in, you spent your time listening to them sipping on a glass of old fashioned.

After what seemed like hours, Sam finally left giving you a small nod in acknowledgement.

Silence ensued as Bucky got up with a groan and poured himself a glass of whisky.

Taking a sip, he smacked his lips before saying "You know the difference between you and me, Y/N?"

He took another sip of his whisky and flicked the glass with his other hand. “We’re drinking the same damn thing. The only difference is I like my whisky neat and you decorate it with fancy shit to make it seem more sophisticated.”

I scoff at his words, shaking my head in amusement. He continued on. “We’re the same, you and I. You hide behind a mask of false politeness and practised smiles. I don’t.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make, James?” you leaned your head back against the couch as the buzz from the alcohol settled into you.

“I must either be foolish or recklessly brave to have married a fucking serpent. You amaze me, Y/N.”

Letting out a genuine laugh at his choice of words , you tip back the rest of the drink, licking your lips as the bitterness leaves its mark behind. A warm hand encircles your hand partially as Bucky takes the glass from you and places it on the table.

Closing your eyes to lean your head back against the couch once more, you let your husbands cologne encompass you.

Let's get one thing clear.

You and Bucky weren't in love. No, this was purely transactional. You got along well , you were able to satisfy each others needs but love was an emotion that didn't come easy to either of you.

So, when his lips trailed soft kisses along your neck, the only emotion involved was lust. Letting out a soft sigh, your eyes still closed, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his hands running across your body and his lips brushing underneath your jaw.

"You look devastating today." he whispered in your ear, nipping it lightly. Back slightly arching off the couch in pleasure, you turned your body towards his, looping your hands around his neck. "I hadn't noticed." you say breathlessly as his metal arm slips down the strap of your dress and your senses are at his mercy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stepping out of the steam bath, you put on a bath robe and start doing your skin care. Sleep was ready to take you under. Having sex with Bucky always tended to get you tired...not that you were complaining really.

Like he was summoned by your thoughts, Bucky walked into the bathroom with a somber face.

"What is it?" your hand was halfway to your face, focus honed in on your husband.

Not bothering to respond, he reached around you to grab the spare gun from the overhead cupboard.

"James."

No response yet again.

"JA--"

"Go to sleep." were the three words you got before he slammed the door to the bathroom and left you fuming in the silence of the house.

This. This was why you could never fall in love with him. No matter how good Bucky Barnes could fuck you, make you laugh and protect you, he would never respect you fully.

Soon.

Soon...this world would bow down to you.

Soon.

CHAPTER 2

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writers-potion · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐚

The Aims of Nautical Fights

Sink the other ship

Methods: ram, set on fire, blow a hole in the hull

Typical Contexts: out-and-out warfare, especially in the ancient Mediterranean

Advantages: fast, no person-to-person fighting

Drawbacks: getting close eough to the other ship exposes own ship, mass murder of the crew, no chance to get their cargo and provisions.

2. Plunder the Other Ship

Methods: disable the ship - damage mast/oars and other methods of propulsion - board the ship, get cargo and kill the crew - sink ship.

Typical Contexts: piracy, privateering

Advantges: valuable cargo sold for profit, much-needed drinking water and food sustain own crew for a while longer, selected captives can be ransomed or sold as slaves.

Drawbacks: dangerous, need to get close enought to gain access to the ship, crew unlikely to surrender, ferocious combat which poses significant risk to own men.

3. Capture the Other Ship

Methods: Capture ship while causing minimal damage and keeping the crew alove - put own officers in charge - add enemy ship to own fleet or collect prize money from the government (the ship will get a new flad, renamed and refitted)

Typical contexts: 18th-19th C Europe (Regency period inclusive)

Advantages: minimal losses of life, humane, gaining a ship

Drawbacks: difficult to capture a ship iwhtou firs samaging it captains may take foolish risks in the hope of prize money, captive crew needs feeding, captive crew may munity.

Weapons

The ship's weapons:-

a ram at the bow - for driving into the hull of another ship. There's the danger of going down together if the ram gets stuck in the body of the other ship.

Artillery - hurling fire at enemy ships to bring them down.

Warships with carry canons.

The crew's weapons:-

Sailors will almost always carry multi-purposes knives which can turn quickly into weapons.

The swords used by marines were always slashing swords (for cutting, slashing, slicing, very sharp, with a lightly curving blade)

Cutlasses are most often associated with nautical combat.

Ship or Boat?

Consider the follow factors when differentiating between a ship and a boat:

the historical period (different periods have different definitions)

the vessel's size

vessel's weight (ships are heavier)

the purpose (fishing vessels, ferries and submarine are typically boats, regardless of size)

the number of masts (three or more masts is a ship)

the number of decks (with more than one deck, it's a ship)

the shape (flat bottom means its a boat)

where most activity takes place (if on deck - boat)

where the bessel travels (if on a river, probably a boat)

Avoid using the words "ship" and "boat interchangeably just to avoid repeating the same word. They are not synonyms!

Use words like vessel, ferry, schooner, the brigantine, cutter, crusier, etc.

Propulsion and Steering

A ship cannot stop, start, swerve and reverse rapidly like a car.

Wind power - high speed, enables long distances, doesn't require the vessel to carry fuel.

Can't move in the abscene of wind

Can't carry out speedy manoeuvres in a battle.

Felling the mast will cripple the entire ship.

Oars (rowing) - allow for greater manoeuvrability, rapid direction changes, and relaively quick starts and stops.

Doesn't achieve great speed and isn't suitable for long distances.

Steam - creates speed, doesn't depend on wind.

Requires carry coal, which limits the amount of cargo that the ship can carry.

Vessels felled with oil or nuclear power can travel faster and vaster distances.

However, they still can't stop, start, swerve and reverse as quickly as a car.

Space

The deck of a ship/boat is a limited space where fighters can fall overboard, climb up a mast, jump down, or leap onto another deck.

It may be full of obstacles: the masts, coiled rops, possible clutter, crates and barrels of cargo and provisions.

There may be livestock, chickens in cages and goats tethered to the mast, intended to provide fresh meat on the long voyage.

Atmosphere

A sea battle will have interesting sounds like roaring canons, crashing masts, splintering wood, panicked chickens, waves crashing against the hull, the wind whipping the sails, the splashing of men overboard.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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cargoshirts · 6 months ago

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Black Jute linen Cotton Shirt For Men

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#black shirt #shirts #shirt #black dresses #black shirts for men #black clothing collections #black full sleeve shirt for men #branded shirts for men #cargo shirts for men #cargo shirts

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ltwilliammowett · 2 months ago

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Joseph Thompson

Joseph Thompson (died 1719) was a pirate from Trinidad, Cuba and was one of the 209 pirates on New Providence who declared to Captain Vincent Pearse their intention to accept an offer of amnesty and pardon made in 1718. Together with Charles Vane and several others, he soon returned to piracy. After hiring an additional crew for his sloop Eagle, he captured and plundered several ships in the area. In December 1718, within sight of Port Royal, Thompson captured a ship called the Kingston, whose cargo was worth over £20,000. The ship owners complained to the Jamaican governor Nicholas Lawes, but there were no Royal Navy warships available.

Instead, Lawes commissioned two sloops in the harbour and promised them a share of the pirates' treasure in addition to the rewards King George had promised in his proclamation of September 1717 to combat piracy. The two sloops set sail before the end of the year and encountered the pirate ship and another captured vessel. The pirate ship under Captain Thompson hoisted a black flag and proceeded to attack.

Thompson's ship passed alongside one of the pirate raiders and ‘threw a large number of powder flasks, shells and stink cans into the ship, killing and wounding several and causing others to jump overboard. ‘The other pirate raider collected the survivors, whose accounts of the fight ‘so disheartened the men on board the other ship that they made their way back to Port Royal.’ Thompson's crew of 150 men, ‘bandits of all nations’, abandoned the remaining sailors in the Cayman Islands.

Jamaica's merchants again appealed to Lawes to take action against Thompson. Lawes, with the help of the merchants, commissioned four more sloops with 10 guns and 80 crew and, after refitting another sloop in Port Royal and the arrival of the fifth-rate frigate HMS Ludlow Castle, divided his forces to protect the arriving merchantmen and hunt down Thompson. Four of the sloops soon cornered Thompson's ship, killed him and salvaged the Kingston. Some of the surviving crew members were captured to await trial in Bermuda, where they were found guilty and hanged in 1720.

Little, Benerson (2010). Pirate Hunting: The Fight Against Pirates, Privateers, and Sea Raiders from Antiquity to the Present

Fox, E. T. (2014). Pirates In Their Own Words

Woodard, Colin (2008). The Republic of Pirates: Being the True and Surprising Story of the Caribbean Pirates and the Man Who Brought Them Down

#naval history #joseph thompson #1719 #pirate #pirate hunter #age of sail #pirate history

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detroitlib · 5 months ago

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View of the freighter "Sonoma" carrying Dodge and Plymouth cars to Buffalo, New York. Label on back: "Down to the sea in ships. These are days when nearly every available local transportation method has Detroit-made automobiles for cargoes. While hundreds of men crowd the factory drive-away yards, fleets of specially constructed tracks leave for far-off dealer points. Railroad cars, each holding four cars, are strung into miles of trains, and lake vessels, crowded to the decks with cars and trucks, cleave the waters. These are inspiring sights duplicated nowhere in all the world. The picture above shows the good ship Sonoma of the Nicholson Universal Line on its way to Buffalo, carrying Dodge and Plymouth cars to waiting dealers." Stamped on back: "June 23, 1936."

National Automotive History Collection, Detroit Public Library

#sonoma #freighter #dodge #plymouth #automobiles #cars #auto transport #cargo #ships #freighters #1936 #1930s #history #detroit #detroit history #vintage #detroit public library

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toothachepng · 1 year ago

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Kiss me Animal

This has been in my drafts way too long with me very slowly updating it. I haven't written in a long time and this is honestly super self indulgent. I just need more plus size readers with Brian in my life

Warnings- Reader is described to have tits and cunt and is called pretty girl. P in V, praise kink, Brian definitely being ooc and a simp for soft chubby girls, fight me. I think that's it, I tried to make it friendly for all the plus sized girlies to read so if I missed any warnings or unfriendlies just lemme know :3

---------------

It'd been a long day

A really long fucking day, anything that could have went wrong absolutely did. Brian sighed as he kicked off his boots, the soles making a heavy thunk as they hit the wooden floor. He flopped back onto their old couch, arms resting on top of it as his head leaned back. A hand wiped down over his face as he let out a groan recalling all the events that had occurred today.

It was supposed to be a simple mission really, take out two people and wipe up any evidence the two had gathered. This sort of thing shouldn't have even required all three of them, and yet it was the messiest job they'd done in a long while. Tim triggered the back door alarm which could have worked in their favor if they had known where in the house the victims were, they didn't. A chair got taken to the back of Tim's head collectively knocking him out for a bit. Of all things Toby had to be threatened with was a blow torch, the fire of course freaking him out and causing him to stumble into Brian.

Another groan left the man as he shook his head, cringing at just how clumsy all three of them had been. Of course they did what needed to be done, but the drive back was tense as fuck with the other two being royally pissed off about how everything had gone down.

Brian was over the whole thing, wanting to just let it roll off his back and move on with his day. The blonde lazily sat up, throwing his hoodie off and onto a chair as he walked into the cabins little kitchenette. It was almost a surprise to see someone else there, forgetting for a quick moment that it wasn't just him and the other two men in the cabin anymore. He eyed you as you didn't seem to notice his presence, which wouldn't be the first time for Brian anyways. You'd been here for a few months, the operator unfortunately having taken a liking to you and directing you to their cabin of all areas.

Brian's eyes washed over your plump form, it looked like you had just rolled out of bed, hair unkempt and a loose t-shirt falling off your shoulder. His eyes went lower, a tight lil pair of black shorts were hugging your ass and chubby thighs. He hated those tiny little shorts, though you obviously seemed to love them since you wore them so God damn often. Maybe if you hadn't Brian would have talked to you more, no excuses for his mind or eyes to start wandering, though even he knew that was a lie. The man still couldn't hold conversation with you even when out doing work, and you wore cargo pants for fucks sake.

Brian looked off to the side, not wanting to be a creep as he cleared his throat to get your attention. It seemed like that was always his goal though, not wanting to appear as some sort of creep to you. It annoyed him to no end, he was the smooth talker out of their group, if they had to talk to a victim he was the first to go without a problem.

"Hey, how'd it go?". You didn't turn to face him as he walked up to the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Glancing at your face, you almost looked annoyed with the slight pout and furrowed eyebrows.

"It uh, definitely could've gone better, the other two went out to go cool off from it actually". You looked over to him amused, sipping at your own mug with a nod, eyes slipping down him for a brief second before quickly looking away.

"You alright? Look like you been sleeping all day, and doesn't look like it was a good sleep". He let out a soft chuckle, at the grimace that came over your face with a shake of your head.

"Yeah I'm alright, though sleeping would've been much more accomplishing honestly". You sighed out while setting your mug in the sink. Brian raised an eyebrow at that, more accomplishing?

Watching you walk out of the kitchen, his eyes trailed down once again, before letting out a cough to himself and looking away.

This was usually how it went since you started staying with the three of them. Sure the two of you had held a few conversations late at night on the couch, but you just seemed to hold much longer talks with Tim and Toby, Tim of all people? Brian felt like he was honestly losing his touch. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, thick comforter shifting underneath him as he stared at the ceiling. His body shifted as his mind easily wandered to past images of your body, his hand going over his face at how easily worked up he seemed to be lately. Maybe he just needed a good fuck?

Though, when even was the last time he got laid? Too long apparantly as he groaned trying to remember before slipping a hand down his sweats. He let out a huff as he wrapped a fist around his half hard cock, immediately an image of those tiny black shorts coming to mind.

He swallowed thickly as he slowly pumped up and down, wetting his bottom lip as he imagined your soft thighs spilling out of fabric. How they dug into your flesh when you sat on the couch across from him. He loved how when you sat down the soft skin of your tummy bunched up over your hip and spilled out of whatever bottoms you had on. He let out a low groan, imagining how soft you'd feel against him, thumb running over the head of his cock, smearing the drip of precum over his member.

His head tilts back against the pillow, a soft wet slap being heard around the room. He let's out a grunt, imagining the jiggle of your ass as you ran in front of him, fuck if only co-

Knock, knock knock

Eyes snapped open at the light rap on his door, an annoyed low grunt leaving him as he tucked himself back into his sweats. Trudging to the door and opening it, about to give whoever it was a fuck off.

"H-hey, um sorry I know it's late."

The annoyed look on Brian's face quickly fell, suddenly aware of how his sweats hugged around his crotch he leaned himself away from the door frame as best as he could.

"Oh no don't worry about it, I wasn't asleep anyways. Did you need something?" He smiled down at you as calmly as he could trying to appear as relaxed as he could. He scanned your body as quickly as he could, fuck you had another pair of those damn shorts? Another color but it didn't matter, you were at his door in those tight lil things with a snug tank top on. He gulped slightly as he watched your chest rise and fall, watching how your flesh threatened to spill out over the fabric. How it hugged your soft sides and hips and waist and holy fuck he could see your hard nipples clearly through it.

"You have a bad staring problem, yknow that Brian?."

Hazel eyes snapped back up to your face that held a small smile. Brian felt his face heat up as he coughed into his fist.

"Fuck sorry, could you repeat yourself? Maybe I'm more tired than I thought". Playing it off with a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, stepping closer to him and into the door frame.

"I'm not that oblivious, you know that right?" Your hand came up to rest on his chest with a playful smile. Brian had to stare at you for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of your hand on his bare skin had his head reeling.

The next few moments were a blur of you getting tugged into the bedroom, big hands gripping at the soft flesh on your hips. Your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a kiss had Brian almost melting, pushing you against his door as he felt you up. Surprised as soft lips moved against his own excitedly.

It felt like Brian couldn't touch enough of you, wanting more of your soft flesh to squish between his fingers. A low groan left him as you tugged at his bottom lip, his hand pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hips. A shudder went through him as you ground yourself against his lap.

Lips trailed down your soft jaw and neck, his hands going lower to squeeze at your ass while he sucked just above your collar. The soft whimpers leaving your parted lips every time he sucked on your skin had him grinding himself back against you.

"Fuck pretty girl, don't know how long I've wanted to feel you like this." He pulled away from your marked neck. A hand was brought up to your face and he let out an amused hum at the warmth coming from your cheeks. You let out a little pant before smiling at him.

"I should've shown up at your door late at night a lot sooner then huh? I guess I just didn't ever wanna interrupt your lil one on one times with yourself." You had a sly smile as you scrunched your nose up at him. Brian dropped his head with a slight chuckle, quickly gripping your other thigh and hoisting you up. He let out a laugh at the the yelp that came out of you.

"What a fucking tease, you knew all this time and didn't even wanna help a guy out? Maybe I should just leave you high and dry tonight then." He gave you a serious stare but it was a fucking lie. There was no way Brian was gonna choose not to sink into your soft form and watch you come undone. Annoyingly you seemed to already know that as you smiled at him.

"Just take me to the bed already, we both know thats not happening".

Brian could have said something sarcastic but did as told anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed so you were perched on his lap all pretty. His hands couldn't help but find place on your soft hips, thick fingers sinking into the doughy skin. His fingers found the fabric of your shorts, tugging them down and off of you, a small smirk forming on his lips at the sight of the pretty little thong you had on underneath.

You rested your hands on his chest, gliding them up and down the bare skin before dragging down to the top of his sweatpants.

Brian had to hold back a groan as you shifted against him. A sigh leaving him as you held onto his shoulders, his own hands tugging you closer as you ground into him. Half lidded eyes glanced up to your face, lips parted and your eyes downcast as you watched yourself move against him.

He felt like he was a in a haze as he watched you, hands gripping onto you like they never wanted to let go. He brought a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss your lips. Brian guided your hand back to his sweats, letting you tug them down to let his cock out. A sigh left him through his nose as you got right back to grinding against him, his cock catching on your damp panties every so often. A low chuckle goes through his chest at the sound of your whines, reaching a finger down to tug your panties aside. Rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips, beginning to guide your movements as his cock slid back and forth between your wet folds, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit every so often.

You found yourself on your back suddenly, head sinking down into a pillow as you blinked up at the blonde. It almost seemed predatory how he hovered over you, flushed lips panting as his eyes raked over your form. His hand almost smacks down onto your thigh with how rough he grips it, watching the fat squeeze through his fingers before moving your thighs apart and moving himself inbetween them.

Brian gulped as he watched your chest rise and fall underneath him, the way you looked laying there had his head racing with too many scenarios of everything he wanted to do to you.

"Please?". Just one word had him almost losing it, he'd imagined himself teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore countless times, but right now he couldn't seem to find the patience. Brian has to almost hold back a groan as he grips his cock, pushing it against your wet hole a few times before finally sinking in. The whine that leaves you has him huffing out a laugh as he catches his breath, grip tight on your hips as he lets you adjust.

It's truly a sight to see for Brian, thighs spread open around him, tank top bunched up on top of your soft tummy, the fabric stretched to the side and letting your tits almost spill out. He watched as your hands came up to paw at his chest, a lopsided grin forming on his lips as you mouthed his name. He didn't need anymore than that to start quickly putting into you, a grunt and a pant leaving him every few thrusts.

"Feel so soft under me pretty girl, fuck, just like I imagined." Rough hands squeezed at your thighs and hips, trailing up to your tummy despite the whines leaving you.

"Really don't understand how many times I've thought about fucking this soft cunt, so fuckin warm and tight and so god damn wet. Do you hear the filthy sounds your little cunt is making for me?." One of his hands left your thighs, coming up to grip your jaw in his hand so you could look up at him, smiling down at you like the cocky fuck he is. It felt like words were stuck in the back of your throat as he fucked you, your mouth opening a few times but no more than a moan leaving you. He grins with a harsh pant, hand leaving your jaw as it reaches down to suddenly tug at your nipple, a yelp leaving you.

"Oh I knew you could still talk, come on pumpkin, wanna hear you. Gotta use your big girl words for me."

The way he was talking to you was certainly doing something to you, talking in that sweet loving tone, his words drawn out, and yet it felt like he was mocking you. A louder moan leaves you as he moves to grip one of your thighs, holding it up against his hip so he can fuck into you deeper.

"Come on, tell me how it feels won't you baby?."

Fast pants and whimpers are leaving you before you can finally get your words to work. "S'feels good! Feels good Brian!."

He can't help but almost laugh at how whiny it comes out, rutting into you faster as he leans down against you.

"Aw atta girl, I knew you could do it pumpkin." The whine that leaves you before hiding your face into his shoulder is enough to make him finally laugh. Still gripping onto your thigh he slows down his pace, feeling himself getting worked up just a little too fast. He leans down just a bit more next to your ear, breathy voice the only other thing you can focus on other than his cock.

"You like when I call you sweet lil names huh sweetheart? Can't hide it with the cute sounds you make everytime I call you something. Is that all I need to do to get you to listen and talk to me hm? Call you baby, pumpkin or tell you just how good you are for me?."

Brian was really just rambling at this point, the slow drag of his cock slipping in and out of your warm cunt had his head feeling hazy. He was barely registering the way your nails slowly dug into his shoulders the more he talked.

"Don't worry baby, you can be my good girl every night." Finally leaning back up, he holds your cheek in his hand, taking a deep breath as he picks his pace back up again. He watches tears well up in your eyes, how warm your cheek is against his hand from embarrassment was going straight to his cock. His lips were on yours suddenly, the kiss messy and wet with drool seeping down your lips. Eyes were half lidded, watching the other before Brian pulled away, thumb coming up to swipe the drool back into your mouth. A heavy pant left him as he sunk his thumb into your mouth, resting it on your tongue as he groaned. He kept it there as his thrusts became short and quick.

"Need to feel you cum around me pretty girl, wanna watch you make a complete mess of yourself." Fingers slipped down in-between the both of you, two fingers coming down to your clit and rubbing in slow small circles. The arch in your back had him speeding up his fingers, grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes screw shut.

"Fu-fuck, I-."

"Go ahead sweetheart, lemme feel you." Just one more sweet little name was all you needed apparently as you let out a whiny moan, thighs shuddering in his grasp. Both hands came to grip your waist as he grunted, quick curses leaving him before he was spilling into you.

Your hand ran over your forehead and layed above you as you panted, staring up at the ceiling as you listened to the blonde pant beside you. You glanced over at him, arm laying over his chest as he seemed to also be in a daze. Watching his Adams apple bob as he swallowed before glancing over at you too. The boyish smile that formed on his lips was enough for you as you smiled back.

----------------------------------------------------

Comments super appreciated cause I really wanna get back into writing, especially for marble hornets. Also yes this is set in an AU where they work for the operator, I'm sorry but it's easy and I'm dumb for them

#hoodie x reader #brian thomas x reader #marble hornets x reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #x reader #proxies x reader #marble hornets smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x chubby reader #creepypasta x plus size reader #yes ik they arent creepypasta but dont lie you know you bunch them together sometimes too LMAO

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moongumi · 6 days ago

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⁀➷ ∵ ❝country boy and his clown❞

⟶ phillip graves x oc/reader

⟶ cw. graves babygirl confused, funny banter, shadow boys, aloof OC, lots of jokes, third person <3

⟶ note. this is basically my little drabbles collection that will accumulate into a long story at some point about my OC Leech xd she's also the ones in all the other MW2 fics i've written

everyone likes that new girl. all the boys were drawn to her and graves can't believe the god damn sight of it all.

on the first mission the damn girl had her little portable gaming device, graves didn't catch what it was called. she whistled as she played whatever game on it. graves felt a fuckin' tick itching on his face from the clicking and tapping.

"shut that god damn thing off, fucking hell."

the girl sighs, putting it into her cargo pocket. "Sorry, Commander." she listens well, at the very least.

graves walks over to her and within an instant she stands up and salutes him. "What they call ya'?"

she's a new transfer, a sort of trade off with a friend. graves needed someone like her but her age was somewhat of an issue, not that young but maybe not old enough to know the ropes of an elite company.

"leech."

the fuck? grave left a migraine forming in his head now. "what?""

"leech, sir."

"got a backstory for that one?"

she laughs, "of course, i would never pick it myself. bit some guy's carotid off during my first deployment—i swear i didn't drink his blood though—"

"i didn't think that," graves sighs, pressing his fingers between his brows. "continue on then, sergeant."

"yup yup."

she catches on quick.

──────⊹⊱♝♜⊰⊹──────

"get this thing open!"

she sighs, tapping away at her little computer in her crouched form. "look boss, you've given me 2 seconds how about you give me 10 more seconds and maybe—oh, look it's open, you're welcome."

graves can see this girl making him lose his will to live. but he was no patient man and well, she was far too chill and nonchalant for this type of work.

when they get inside she's on the computer right away, jamming combinations of numbers and symbols to get what he wanted from this place.

"yikes, lots of porn on here."

graves almost snaps his neck turning to her. "what?"

"joking, got what we need." she pulls out the drive from the computer and pocketing it. she pulls her gun from her side back into her hands. "time to find out way out, commander."

──────⊹⊱♝♜⊰⊹──────

"i don't think i've met anyone more annoying." graves admits.

shadow 1-1 laughs, "boss, she's pretty cool and she's cute."

"she's funny, she said her callsign was because she ate a live lizard on the field—" shadow 1-2 mentions.

hes interrupted by 1-1, "wait what? she told me it's because she was sucking on her military ex-boyfriend's dick one time in the barracks and she accidentally cut off his foreskin."

"that's a fuckin' lie, if i've ever heard one."

1-1 takes offense, "yours sounds more fake than mine."

somehow this makes graves grab his head, what the hell has this girl been doing to my men. now it makes him doubt if the story she told him was even real.

she ponders, pursing her lips, "sir, i told you the real story—it's just fun telling all the boys different shit, they all go around tellin' each other the wrong thing and it's funny when they all get confused."

the girl looks around aimlessly, seemingly waiting for him to say something. "alright, you're dismissed. see you tomorrow, leech."

graves sighs in his office, the girl in front of him now dressed in a more business attire even if her skirt was far too short and the buttons her shirt were on wrong—the sheerness of that top too, jesus christ could she not afford a shirt didn't look like a piece of tissue? he could see her bra straps through the damn thing.

"are ya' lying?"

"maybe."

#phillip graves #graves fic #graves smut #graves mwii #graves x reader #graves x oc #cod oc #phillip graves fanfiction #graves fanfic #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x oc

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tellmealittlelie · 6 months ago

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Ocean Deep - Chapter 1

Previous: Preface

TW: Mentions of assault, blood, injury and scientific experimentation of humanoid creatures.

________________________

It was nearing dusk when the little schooner finally puttered into obscurity - no other boats in sight as far as the eye could see in all directions, and land was, at this point, a simple figment of imagination. They had been motoring forward since dawn, and now, just over thirteen hours later, the captain and his crew were absolutely sapped.

Two of the men, at their captain's orders, wheeled over their cargo to the side of the boat, leading the schooner to tip slightly to the side. The men cleared off the clutter on top of the container - a disguise if someone had met them before they had reached their destination, piles of boxes, hooks, bait and rods were cleared to the side and the spare sail that had acted as veil, was removed deftly and flung to the side.

The captain, a stout man, fumbled with his keys before unlatching the padlock and letting in a rush of air to the contents of the container. The captain tentatively peered inside, but seeing that the creature continued to lay unconscious, though, - most probably dead, or at the very least near death - he hummed to himself lazily.

It was a pretty little thing, or at least it used to, and it had certainly been quite useful to study, but now, his toy broken beyond repair, it was time to dispose of it, in the most convenient way possible. He unlatched the side of the box, letting one of the long walls drop down and allowing the blood tinged water to spill out and into the ocean, the creature following shortly after, the water pushing it out and down into the black depths.

He only let his crew a final moment of reprise before ordering everything to be placed exactly as it had been before and charting a course back to the mainland.

The creature was, as one of the men said to another, out of sight and therefore out of mind. The body would surely fit in with the others of the same species on the ocean floor and their actions would therefore never be traced back to them - and it was easier than burning the thing, lest a scale remain and cause people to start asking questions.

~~~~

As the body slowly sank to the bottom of the ocean, it left a slow trail of blood behind it, tainting the water above it a sickly pale pink. Luckily, no creature reached for the body, the sharp scent of chemicals leading them to swim away rather than closer to inspect the oddity.

However, not all creatures were repulsed, once the body was almost at the bottom of the ocean - where light was hard to come by - a ghostlike creature steadily approached the body with lightly veiled curiosity.

When he got a better view, he swam closer and after a moment tugged the body closer to him, noting the dull colorless sickly scales and the wounds littering it’s - his - body.

The ghost brought the man closer to his chest and after adjusting his new charge in his arms, took off back towards his den.

He wasn’t sure why, but something seemed to be calling for him to care for the man, to protect and heal his bruised and bloodied skin and brighten his scales to see their true color.

It was only a couple of minutes before he reached his den and he slipped past the barrier easily, before laying the man in a soft nest of collected human scraps; pieces of cloth and delicate seaweed latticework which made the nest homey and comfortable.

The ghost went and gathered his things from the shelves, keen eyes seeing easily in the dark. He slathered on a thick healing balm and then wrapped the wound up, quickly but effectively, with clean, thick strips of seaweed.

As he pulled away he finally noticed a plastic human cuff tightly wound around the man’s wrist. The ghost peered closer until he could read the black, uniforme writing spelling out: S141-OAP.

The ghost leaned back, he knew he was getting himself into something when he took the little merman back with him, but he had thought that he might be more use than problem to him - but now, maybe the baggage that this little thing was bringing along with him was more effort than what he would receive in compensation.

Ah, well, he wasn’t so cruel that he would toss out the bloke now, he would wait till he woke and if he was agreeable to work for him, perhaps he could stay a bit longer, if not, there was a door and he could get the hell out.

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carolmunson · 1 year ago

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eddie munson x fem!reader | steve harrington x fem!reader

COMING SOON TO THEATERS. A FANFICTION ADAPTION OF ACADEMY AWARD WINNING FILM 'TITANIC' WRITTEN BY:

@loveshotzz @newlips and @carolmunson

ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY + FILM WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY JAMES CAMERON. ALL OF THOSE ICONIC SCENES AND LINES ARE, OF COURSE, CREDITED TO WHOM CREDIT IS DUE: JAMES CAMERON

PREVIEW:

Wednesday, April 10th, 1912 Southampton, London

The blare of the fog horn is unmissable, rattling the conversations in a small pub off the White Star Dock. Even through the dusty windows she was clear as day, big as anything anyone had ever seen. Large black body met with a red base, multiple decks, and four large smoke stacks. The ship seemed to go on forever, her beauty unmatched to anyone who had seen it – a behemoth on the seas. A glory – a masterpiece.

The doors of the pub fluttered open and closed all morning as it edged closer and closer to noon. Pints poured by the dozens, the hundreds – half the country coming to the piers to see off the Ship of Dreams and its passengers. The bar was alight with chatter, mixing in with the roar of people from outside — hundreds of people halfway to boarding, waving and kissing goodbye. Beer glasses clinked and people cheered while they watched a long line of high end cars gleam in the spring sun as they rolled down the dock. Precious cargo full of Europe and America’s elite.

Reporters and bellhops alike flock to them like flies, pub patrons ogling through the dusty windows while they exit their buggies.

Among the commotion, the endless chatter and screeching of pub seats, sat four men oblivious to the spectacle. They’re sitting around a small table with sweat on their brows as the April sun pours golden over them. Eyes burning over their cards as cigarette smoke wafts over their heads — the players lost in the fog during an intense round of poker.

The pot was mostly meager — a few pounds and swaths of change, a pocket watch, a penknife. But in the center was the crown jewel, a prize that would change the winner’s life forever. Two pieces of pressed parchment reading:

The men leer over their hands, not a friendly face between them — the tickets were not the dealer’s, but two of the players who had bet the wrong guys. Guys who had been beyond the break and back again, meeting in Morocco, then Paris, and traveling together back to London — guys who had never lost a game of poker.

Eddie places his bet, pulling a small silver ring off of his right ring finger and tossing it in the center.

“Are you kidding?” Jeff asks from his left, “That’s everything we have.”

Eddie grins at him, taking a drag of his cigarette. The sun dances in his big brown eyes like he knows something the rest of them don’t, “When you got nothin’, you got nothin’ to lose.”

The two other players speak to each other heatedly in Swedish after one of them hits for a new card. The outburst makes it clear that things aren’t looking good for the Swedes — it makes Eddie’s heart leap. Maybe this is it, maybe he’s finally gonna get back to the states. “Sven?” he asks the man next to him. “Hit,” he replies, putting down a card and taking another. Eddie follows suit, furrowing his brow while his bangs meet his eyelashes. Sweat collects on the nape of his neck where his dark curls are twisted up in a graphite drawing pencil – a trick he picked up from women he met in France. He puffs the smoke from his mouth, eyes meeting the Swede across from him who looks like he couldn’t be having a worse day.

“Alright,” he says, putting his cigarette down on the ashtray between then, “Moment of truth. Somebody’s life’s about to change.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at his friend, sweat beading at the edge of his hairline and glinting off of his deep skin, “Jefferey?”

Jeff throws his cards down with a roll of his eyes. “Nothing,” Eddie nods.

“Nothing,” Jeff says curtly through a grit in his teeth. His heart pounds in his chest while he looks at the last of their money on the table – they can’t afford to lose.

“Olaf?” Eddie asks, the Swede throws down his cards in a huff, “Nothin’.”

“Sven?”

Sven puts down his cards and Eddie frowns, “Oh…two pair.”

His shoulders droop while he looks at his own cards, eyes lingering on the silver ring in the middle of the table, “I’m sorry, Jeff.”

“What do you mean ‘sorry’?” You idiot! You bet all of our bloody money! You imbecile, you–”

“I’m sorry, you’re not going to be able to visit your cousins in Paris again for a long time,” Eddie says with a serious edge. Jeff quirks his brow, triggering Eddie’s winning smile behind plush pink lips.

“‘Cause we’re goin’ to America!” he exclaims, slamming his cards down on the table, “FULL HOUSE, BOYS!”

Jeff leaps from his chair in the back of the pub, reaching for the tickets on the on the table, “WE’RE GOIN’ TO BACK TO AMERICA!”

“I’m goin’ home!” Ed exclaims while the boys hug tightly. The pub cheers for them, pints still flowing — men and women with red cheeks having no idea what they’re cheering for until a fight breaks out between the Swedes.

Eddie laughs, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder and Jeff does the same — their white shirts dirtied with the stains of the day before.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeff says, teeth shining in a grin across his face, “Goin’ back to America!”

“Titanic’s going back to America, boys,” the barkeep says, pointing at the clock, “In five minutes!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #titanic au #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #steve x reader

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