#punch hole display

[cryptidroots]

PSA for Small Businesses!

If you are a small business owner (like working on selling things from home on Etsy or in a small mom/pop store) you probably have a budget - a Reaallllyyyy tight budget, and that tight budget is being stretched too thin by spending on all the extra little upcharges from your printing supplier (things like rounded corners or a retail hole punch)

so listen up because Cryptids Don't Gatekeep - especially tips and tricks that can help out our other small business colleagues!

so go from this: a standard card you can get from a printing company (Vistaprint is common, though this is from Uprint) and go to this instead;

Beautiful rounded corners and a professional retail peg hole punch - perfect for actually being in retail stores or on a nice display at your local market or convention!

Don't wanna pay the absurd upcharge fees every time? Good, you don't have to! Buy the freaking punches/cutters online and do it yourself! It's a (much cheaper) one time purchase and then you can do it whenever! I got mine from Amazon as that was the best option available to me, but you can check out other specialty/stationary stores too!

Here's the little contraption that rounds out those pesky sharp corners (it has 3 different size options too!)

and here's a close up of that nice perfect rounded edge! Took a fraction of a second!

Here's the cool specialty retail hole punch thing-a-ma-jig

and for bonus tips here's the little adhesive tape thingy I use to stick my products onto the hanging cards (I kinda like this one, but I might try other ones in the future to see if any are better - sometimes the glue stuff has trouble rolling out and I have to re-do a section to get it to work)

And voila! You did it! You're ready to have the best display at your convention or hit the big leagues and provide professional merch at physical stores.

Go forth! Make things! Save money! Make money! Drool over rounded corners!

love,

-Cryptid

[gadgetguruarena]

[hyabbstay]

just a little bit - c.s.b. & c.y.j.

yeonjun x afab!reader x soobin

genre: smut (minors DO NOT INTERACT!)

content warning: porn without plot, threesome, afab!reader, jun and soob take turns, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP it before u tap it pLS) oral sex (m & f receiving), masturbation (m), voyeurism, lots of bodily fluids, sloppy seconds, pussy slapping, recording, choi soobin has a big dick, slight objectification, soobin calls reader a slut while yeonjun calls reader sweetheart LOL, lmao yeonjun is more romantic than soob here he might be a little in love, pussydrunk!soob, yeonbin bickering, sexual tension if you squint, probably forgot some just let me know, NOT PROOFREAD it's like 5am here and im tired

wc: 3.1k

song rec: just a little bit by kids of 88 (hello teen wolf fans!)

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

"That's it, take Yeonjun's cock like a good slut."

"F-fuck," the older man threw his head back at the way you clenched around his girthy cock, hot, slick, and greedy. He rolled his hips into yours, making you cry out through your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle your moans. "Seriously, we can't just be friends anymore after this - ah - I'll lose my shit thinking about your pussy all day."

From his seat by the dresser, Soobin tightened his grip on his stiff cock, already leaking precum. He watched Yeonjun's cock slam in and out of your pussy. The older man liked to pull out completely, drag his length along your clit until you whined helplessly, then ram it back in, punching a cry out of you. Soobin licked his lips and listened to the symphony of his best friends' sweat slicked skin smacking against each other, the squelches each time Yeonjun's cock pummeled your wet hole, your muffled whining, and Yeonjun's pornographic moans.

Soobin found it delicious to watch, but he couldn't deny he wanted to ruin you just as badly as Yeonjun did, too. Raw you like an animal in heat, abuse your wet pussy and fill it deep, dripping with a mix of his and Yeonjun's hot semen.

You ripped the panties from your mouth and began gasping loudly. Yeonjun could feel your hot cavern pulsate around his length, locking him in a vice-like grip. His hips began to stutter, erratic in his movement. Soobin leaned forward just slightly. He knew what was coming and decided to edge himself a little bit, letting go of his dripping cock. As he slowly licked the slick off of his palm, Soobin suppressed his eyes from rolling back, watching the scandalous scene unfold in front of him.

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open in ecstasy, eyes shut tight, reveling in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.

“So,” pant, “fucking,” pant, “good.” Your best friend punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, allowing streak after thick streak of cum to coat your walls. You could’ve sworn the intensity of your orgasm drove you insane. Warm and sticky fluid flooded your hole, covering his cock and meeting his release. Your legs and thighs buzzed with pleasure, and your hole felt so raw. The sensation in your womb was both sensual and dirty. So filthy.

“What a filthy slut,” Soobin groaned, sucking in air through clenched teeth. “You like being pounded by your best friend’s cock?”

Lost in pleasure while Yeonjun fucks the remainder of his semen into you, you manage to let out a weak “Yeah.”

The man behind you slows his thrusts and eventually slips out of you. Soobin looks up at him, and they exchange sly looks. Soobin stands up, shucking off the rest of his clothes, leaving his cock proudly on display. You were in huge trouble.

“Wanna make it two of your best friends’ cocks? Gonna let me fill you up with my cum, too?” Soobin leaned in close, eyes dark, and spanked your ass. You screamed in surprise, feeling Yeonjun’s cum drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“Answer me, slut.”

“Y-yes,” you groaned, glassy eyes begging him to cream inside you, “I w-want all your cum in m-my pussy, Bin-ah.”

Yeonjun was spent. He moved to the chair and reached for his phone. You had an inkling of what was going to happen next.

“Jun-ah,” Soobin called while manhandling you onto your back, not caring about the cum that poured out of your hole, “get back here and take a video of your mess first.”

Yeonjun hummed and sauntered over, phone in hand with the flash on. Both men pushed your thighs apart, leaving your dripping snatch exposed. “So wet and full of my cum,” the older man watched the screen closely as three of Soobin’s fingers invaded your hole, fucking the slick back inside. He slapped your pussy, earning a moan from you. Smrking, he did it again, watching the strings of your arousal stretch out as he pulled his hand away. You whined out his name, embarrassed by the wet sounds coming from your folds.

“Bin, I ate her out earlier before you walked in,” Yeonjun smirked. “She’s so fucking tasty, exactly like we imagined.”

Shit, how long have these two been planning to get in your pants? Since you started coming over to their apartment? Since you accidentally flashed them at the pool? That one spin the bottle game where you had to make out with Yeonjun?

Or that incident at the movie theater where you caught Soobin touching himself through his pants during a sex scene? You moaned, remembering that smirk he gave you back then and the way he continued palming his cock.

If you’d gotten the hint back then, you could’ve been cumming on their cocks much sooner.

“‘M gonna eat this pussy out first, dyin’ to taste you.” Soobin hasn’t gotten started yet, but his words slightly slurred together, as if he was already pussydrunk by the thought of drowning in your arousal. He flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He hummed as he savored your slick fluids coating his tongue, while you cried out like a bitch in heat. Fuck their neighbors; you were getting the best head of your life tonight.

“Still dripping so much after being used as Junnie’s cumdump?” Soobin tutted, “You’re insatiable.”

His head disappeared between your legs as he began sucking on your hole, as if trying to drink up the filthy mixture of yours and Yeonjun’s cum. You screamed when he stuck his tongue inside and forced the wet muscle to explore your pussy. Yeonjun had to switch hands to hold the camera steady and place the other hand on your abdomen to keep you from thrashing around in pleasure. His best friend was too pussy-drunk to mind you pulling his hair, thirsty for more of his tongue action.

“Y/N’s so greedy,” Yeonjun remarked. “Soobin, wanna teach her a lesson?”

The younger man only responded by withdrawing his tongue and laving it over your clit before sucking wetly.

He scooped up the dripping mix of arousal from your hole and pulled out his soaked digits to hold them up for his friend, all the while keeping his hot tongue on you. Yeonjun hungrily wrapped his plump lips around Soobin’s fingers, suckling on them lightly to get a taste of yours and his own cum. Admittedly, you would’ve enjoyed the erotic scene of the two men if it weren't for Soobin’s relentless attack on your folds. Each stripe that he pressed onto your sensitive snatch brought you closer to the edge. 

Yeonjun let go of the other’s fingers with a lewd pop and resumed filming the same fingers plunging inside you again.

The older man watched in amusement, eyes drifting to see your fucked out expression, body covered in sweat from fucking him earlier. You met his piercing gaze. He slowly moved the phone towards you, recording your sorry state for them to beat their cocks to later. Much to your surprise, he delicately brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. The loving gesture reminded you for a split second that you were close friends.

Close friends that somehow ended up this way.

The sweet gesture was quickly swept away by the sight of Yeonjun licking his lips. He watched you with blown pupils and spoke.

“Who’s making you feel this good, baby? Hm?” He asked in a low voice, tongue grazing the shell of your ear.

“Y-you!" you moaned, hips grinding into Soobin’s face. His moan sent vibrations through your pussy. “You and S-Soobin-ah! So good I’m gonna cum!”

“Then cum.” 

At that, Soobin, who had been carefully tracing little circles on your bundle of nerves, latched his lips onto your clit and resumed his frenzied sucking while pounding his fingers into your slick. He shook his head from side to side, the movement intensifying the rough drag of his tongue on you. The salacious squelching, lewd moans, and smell of sex permeated the air again. You screamed brokenly while creaming all over his mouth. Yeonjun held the camera right above the both of you, capturing the sexual act in all its glory.

You tried to make eye contact with the camera, but Soobin’s persistent licking at your spent folds kept your eyes rolling back so much you thought they would get stuck that way.

You came down from your high, and Soobin polished off his meal, greedily sucking every last drop from your hole and his own fingers. Fuck, your best friends could keep your legs twitching for days on end. You wouldn’t mind that one bit.

Damn, you need both of them in you.

Soobin was a mess. His bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat and juices on his face, but his gaze was eager, showing no signs of fatigue from your earlier activities.

“Time for my cock, babe. Take it like the slut you are, alright? I’ll make it fit.” He gripped his length and pumped it, lining it up with your hole before entering you.

The stretch was incredible. Without a doubt, he was thicker than Yeonjun. It was as if you felt every ridge, every vein that bulged from his dick as he sank further and further into you. When he bottomed out, Soobin could hardly hold himself back from pulling back and slamming in.

Embarrassingly, you heard the squelch of your juices as Soobin adjusted his position while you got accustomed to the size of his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned “Gonna fuck you stupid on my cock, slut.”

And he began pummeling into you a lot more forcefully than Yeonjun did. His technique was desperate, messy, and a little insane. You had half a mind to be a little scared that he might break you.

“Fuck! S’big and so good, Soobin!”

Still sensitive, you moaned out his name. He satisfied his oral fixation by sealing his lips over your tit, moaning into your burning flesh. His thrusts were fast and harsh, barely giving you time to breathe, so you had no choice but to bask in the sensation of Soobin’s dick abusing your pussy.

The wet sounds of your skin meeting were also affecting Yeonjun, who began groaning like a pornstar again. His other hand traveled to his now fully hard cock and began stroking again, his eyes flickering between the scene recorded on the screen and reality. The older man fixed his gaze on the sight of you and Soobin’s hips meeting. He watched it all—the way his cock disappeared into your cunt, the wetness that accumulated around his friends’ lower halves as you both kept meeting each other's thrusts.

The way Soobin speared you on his cock like a toy, he treated you like his personal cumdump. He released your tits from his mouth and joined Yeonjun in watching his dick plunging into your heat, each time emerging a lot wetter than the last.

In between pants, Soobin said something that made you clench harder around his pulsating length, “Yeonjunnie, fuck her mouth. Make her take both of us at once.”

At least Yeonjun had the decency to ask you, “Would you like that, baby? Want me to cum down your throat, too?”

Halfway through a moan, you nodded furiously. It took too much energy to form coherent words, but you tried for him.

“P-please,” you choked out, “Wan’ it in my m-mouth.”

“Good girl,” Yeonjun praised, positioning your head so you hung slightly from the edge of the bed. You watched with lidded eyes as he collected his arousal from the tip with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone and stroked himself with it. He tapped his veiny cock against your waiting lips. “Gonna pump my cum down your throat now, beautiful.”

Eagerly, you wrapped your lips around the older man’s tip, giving it a little suck before allowing him to thrust the rest of his length down your hot mouth. Both the taste of your cum and his from earlier still lingered on his skin, and you moaned around him as you realized this. You took into your hands what your mouth couldn’t take, twisting them while relaxing your muscles to take him deeper. 

Yeonjun barely captured your sinful position on camera before he dropped his phone, sending it clattering to the floor.

They should really set up a tripod next time.

Next time.

He quickly became erratic in his movements. He couldn’t believe his wettest, wildest dreams came true tonight. He threw his head back in ecstasy while you swallowed him whole, sweat running down his chest and the sides of his face.

Fuck, fuck, and what if he looked at his best friend right now-

Soobin, still pummeling relentlessly into your battered cunt, stared right back at him. They held eye contact while thrusting into both your holes, chests heaving from the pleasure that drowned their hot bodies and addled their lust-ridden minds. For them, nothing else existed in this moment except for the sound of their skin repeatedly coming in contact with your holes, the squelch of juices and spit, the scent of sex, the buzz that lit their lower halves on fire, and the humid air that sent perspiration dripping down their bodies to your equally spent one.

“Think you can last longer than me, Jun-ah?” The younger challenged, pulling out almost completely then slamming back into you forcefully. You whined around Yeonjun’s cock.

“Huh,” the older huffed, “I’ll even let her ride me after this, then I’ll fuck her in front of that mirror Y/N and I bought together over there.”

Soobin spared the dirty floor-length mirror a glance, “Yeah? You’re nasty. I could guess how many times your conceited ass came all over that thing.”

Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat, groaning when he saw the slight outline of his cock. “You’re nastier, Bin-ah. You hide Y/N’s sweaters whenever she comes over and cum all over them at night, dirty perv.”

Again, you let out another moan and desperately humped against Soobin’s hips, trying to get his dick deeper into you. All the dirty confessions they’re making in front of you made you gush out more juices. Soobin clicked his tongue and suddenly pulled out of you, taking a moment to appreciate the sticky strings of arousal that connected his member to your cunt. You whined at the loss of contact and Yeonjun was quick to thrust that down your throat again.

Meanwhile, Soobin pushed your knees up to your chest and aligned his cock with your entrance.

“Little slut wants more?” He sneered, “I’ll give you more, then. We’ve got all night.”

He sheathed his cock in the deepest he could go, invading your folds once more and pushing your juices in. Soobin let out the hottest, most desperate moan he’s made so far and began panting again. His hips moved at a rapid pace, causing clear-white fluid to form around where the base of his cock and your pussy met. You could feel the wetness spread further on your thighs and pour onto Yeonjun’s sheets.

The older man watched this development greedily, pulling out of you momentarily to give you room to rest and moan loudly as Soobin abused your leaking hole. Seeking leverage, you felt around until your hand found Yeonjun’s thigh. He grabbed your tits, pinching your nipples and rolling them in his fingers, causing them to harden. You sobbed, grasping at his thigh tighter.

“Yeonjunnie,” you gasped, “c-cock…”

He quickly complied, pushing his hips back into your mouth to receive the pleasure your tongue and cheeks gave him. 

You moaned around Yeonjun’s cock, but you could hear the latter scoff at the statement.

Soobin delivered a harsh slap to your ass, making you impossibly tighter, your juices and tightness simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out.

“Fuck, baby, your cunt’s so greedy ‘n hot.” He groaned, “Gonna stuff this pussy day and night so it’ll never be empty, you like that?”

It’s always a competition between these two, you thought.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Yeonjun panted, pushing back his sweaty hair to bask in the feeling of you swallowing his dick. “Take it like the good girl you are, hm? Give me another thing to think about every night.”

Soobin’s mouth hung open in pleasure, but he still had the energy to roll his eyes at the older man. He began to indulge you in more dirty talk.

“What a complete slut. Already came around Junnie and me several times but can still give us more, hm? Gonna fucking pound this pussy until all you can cum around is our cocks, right?”

He laid his palm on your abdomen and used his thumb to draw figures on your clit. You keened.

Coupled with his erratic thrusts, thumb motions, and Yeonjun’s fingers on your pebbled nipples, you were suddenly flooded with a white-hot pleasure. Your body thrashed around to no avail as your two best friends held you in place. 

The three of you were a sight to behold. Yeonjun’s cock twitched in your mouth, and he released thick spurts of cum in you as you moaned around him, letting him coat your tongue with his essence. You did your best to swallow, although you began to choke from the pleasure Soobin was giving you below.

The younger man ruthlessly snapped his hips into your wetness, ropes of cum shooting into your hole and kissing your cervix for the second time that night, filling you up with his hot semen. His moans came from deep within his chest, and you found that incredibly hot. You couldn’t see his face but imagined his blissed-out expression from emptying his balls in you.

In the middle if it all, your cunt met Soobin’s cum with your own, clenching uncontrollably while struggling to take in the semen Yeonjun spilled in your mouth. Each spurt into both your holes brought you closer to blacking out from the sheer pleasure.

The three of you relished in the sounds and sensations of your orgasms, the room a mess of moans and cries and squelches. Once they pulled out, your exhausted bodies went slack. Both men fell to either side of you on the bed, heaving deep breaths. Still abuzz with the effects of your orgasm, you became aware of yours and Soobin’s cum seeping out of your abused pussy. You could still feel the warm cum smeared on your chin, courtesy of Yeonjun.

On your left, the culprit quietly laughed and reached over to stroke your hair, “That was intense, baby. You okay?” he whispered, “Soobin did a number on you.”

You grinned weakly, “Says the one who first pulled me in here to eat me out.”

“Hey,” Soobin suddenly said, “We should do this again.”

“How soon?” Yeonjun smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt Soobin’s hand on your thigh, getting closer to your still-sensitive core.

There’s your answer.

[accimperiu]

so, i've fallen down the "humans are weird" rabbit hole, and i couldn't help but notice most of it is about how humans are just really durable, adorable, friendly, how we'd pack bond with anything, about how we have such a hive-mind and empathy and determination to survive when things get rough, how we could survive things most other aliens would die from, how we could eat stuff that would poison other aliens, how we inject ink into our skin and pierce it with pieces of metal and drink toxic substances for the sake of entertainment..

it's always human defences and endurance

but i never see people talking about human **aggression**

like, imagine a spaceship happens to have several humans on it even if most residents are alien species, and two of the humans get in a fight.

and i'm not just talking physical, i'm sayin' all kinds of fights.

imagine if two humans got in a serious screaming match and genuinely hurt a few of the alien species sensitive to loud sounds as they watch, flabbergasted at how the two are literally yelling in each-other's faces without breaking a sweat or getting tired from it, while one of the sound-sensitive aliens literally passed out because it was SO loud

or imagine them simply being in shock after interacting with humans for a long time and having this image in their head of humans being so friendly and able to get along with anything and anyone, including stabby, or any predatory, aggressive species we just so happen to find cute. that image getting completely shattered seeing two of the humans they're friends with showing clear anger and aggression in a display they could only describe as "terrifying" in the most visceral sense of the word

or two humans getting in an actual physical fight, and here's where the *several* humans on ship part comes into play,

so the two are duking it out in a violent display of pure hatred while other humans, amused and thoroughly entertained by the violence that would already have put any of the less durable aliens out of commission gather around the fighting pair and start ominously chanting "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT"

prior, the aliens hadn't dared intervene or get any closer because either way they recognized it as a danger

meanwhile some humans JOIN IN for absolutely no reason and it becomes a full on riot

and the aliens just stare like ?????

confused at why they'd find it so endearing, at why they'd literally join for no reason at all, horrified by even just a punch to the gut because to some of the more vulnerable aliens that's their equivalent of literally getting an organ ripped out of them and somehow STILL fighting and then ripping out an organ out of the opponent themselves

and most of all, if humans are capable of befriending aggressive, large predatory beings and getting along with practically everything,

what from the fresh pits of hell triggered two *humans* to fight *each other* of all creatures?

(that is, assuming aliens don't have much knowledge of our history, wars, politics, etc of course.)

[fytko-mobile-specs]

The Tecno Phantom V Fold: A Foldable Future Unfolds at MWC 2023

The Tecno Phantom V Fold, Tecno's entry into the foldable smartphone market, is set to make its debut at the Mobile World Congress 2023. The launch date for the device is confirmed for February 28 and the MWC 2023 launch page is already live. The phone will feature a MediaTek Dimensity 9000+ SoC, an impressive chipset with an AnTuTu test score of over 1.08 million.

In a recent statement, Tecno claimed that the Phantom V Fold will be the world's first left-right foldable smartphone, a unique feature that sets it apart from other foldable devices on the market. Live images of the phone have also recently emerged, giving us a glimpse of its sleek design.

Additionally, rumors suggest that Tecno is working on a new foldable smartphone, the Tecno Phantom Vision V. Concept renders and videos have appeared online, showcasing a foldable display with a hole-punch cutout for the selfie camera and a triple rear camera setup.

[starshideurfics]

Little Steve who gets lost on a shopping trip in Chicago once. He’s bored and wanders towards a window display while his mommy is at the perfume counter, everything is so neat and perfectly in place. By the time he turns around, he can’t see his mommy anywhere.

Steve takes a deep breath and starts walking, ready to go looking for her, only to realize just how big the department store is. He’s overwhelmed and ducks into the middle of a clothing rack, curling up into a little ball, his lip wobbling as he makes peace with the fact he will have to live at the department store. He knows there’s food there because they already had lunch, and they walked past a whole department full of candy. There are little beds in the home department that will be just the right size for him, even if Mommy always says he shouldn’t climb on them and not to embarrass her. There’s even a giant teddy bear in the toy department, so really, living here won’t be so bad!

“Steve! Stevie! Oh my god! Steven!”

Steve perks up. That’s his mommy. He crawls out from under the rack, through a curtain of suit coats.

“Mommy!” He runs to her and she crouches down to pull him into her arms.

She cries as she holds him and apologizes, words more for herself than for Steve. “I’m sorry, Stevie. I thought you were right next to me. Oh god! What if something had happened to you?”

He gets a new toy truck, a nice one with working doors, and Mommy holds his hand the rest of the trip. They get ice cream. It’s the best day ever, and Steve was only scared for a minute.

A month later, Steve is bored at home. Daddy is in his office and Mommy is on the phone.

Every time he tries to talk to Mommy she says, “Not now, Steve. Mommy’s busy.” Daddy’s office door is locked.

So, Steve decides to run away. If he’s missing, Mommy will want to find him and hold him close. He puts on his shoes, carefully tying the bows on his laces, and leaves.

The sliding door into the backyard is quiet as he closes it behind himself, and he sets off with a determined gait.

Steve makes it far enough into the woods that he can’t see his house anymore. Then far enough that he comes out on a field that he doesn’t recognize. Another little boy is in the field, very focused as he stares at a patch of clover. “What are you doing?” Steve asks as he approaches.

“Catching moths!” The boy points to an open mason jar with leaves and twigs inside, then to the clover, a handful of white and yellow moths among the plants. He smiles at Steve, a gap where one of his baby teeth has already fallen out, then turns back to the clover, taking slow steps and crouching, trapping a moth between his cupped hands. “Can you grab the jar?”

Steve does, holding it carefully as the older boy places the moth inside, holding a hand over the jar’s mouth. “Thanks! My name’s Eddie, what’s yours?”

“Steve.”

“Wanna help me catch some more?”

“Yeah!”

Together, the boys catch a few more moths (Eddie catches all of them, Steve keeps scaring them by moving too fast). Eddie puts them in the jar, closing the lid, holes already punched in the metal, and they watch the little insects walk along the twigs and languidly flap their wings. Then Eddie unscrews the lid, giggling as the moths fly away.

“Why’d you do that? We worked so hard!”

“Moths can’t live in jars. Mama always says I can look but I can’t keep ‘em,” Eddie answers with a smile. Then Steve’s stomach growls loudly, and Eddie looks up to see how low the sun already is in the sky. “I’m hungry too. It’s almost dinner time, so we should head home.”

“I don’t know how to get home,” Steve says softly, suddenly realizing he got pretty turned around in the woods and home could be anywhere.

Eddie takes Steve’s hand. “That’s okay, you can come with me!” Eddie knows exactly what to do, leading Steve with all the confidence of a six-year-old, ready to start 1st grade next month. They quickly arrive at the trailer park, Eddie knocking at a door before walking straight inside, tugging Steve after him. “Uncle Wayne!”

“Hey there, Bug, who’s your friend?” Eddie’s uncle is tall, with kind eyes. Even if Eddie hadn’t brought him there, Steve’s pretty sure he would like Uncle Wayne.

“This is Steve.”

“Steve’s folks know where he is?”

“He doesn’t know how to get home.”

“Ah, shhh—” Wayne winces, cuts himself short, and Steve’s pretty sure he was gonna say a bad word. “Steve, do ya know your phone number?” Wayne asks, crouching down to be eye-level with the boys.

“No…” That’s a lie. But he needs to make sure Mommy and Daddy are worried about him. If he gets sent home too soon, they’ll just be mad.

“Your address?”

“No.”

“How about your last name?”

Steve just shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. He had so much fun with Eddie, and now everything is falling apart. He should have stayed home…

Wayne ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay, kiddo. We’ll get you home.” Steve’s stomach growls again. “How about we have a snack? Everything looks better on a full stomach.”

Eddie is still holding Steve’s hand, and brings him over to the little table, letting go so they can climb onto chairs. Wayne gives them chocolate-covered mini donuts and orange soda, asking them about their afternoon, Eddie doing most of the talking.

Then the phone rings, and Wayne answers. “No, he’s here, Bets, Eddie’s with me. — What?” He turns to look at the boys, staring at Steve, before continuing, “Nope, you saved me some trouble. You know Eddie, he picked up a stray. — Pretty sure it is. Yep, I’ll drop Eddie off after.” He hangs up, smiling again. “Hey, Steve, I think I know how to get you home now, so don’t you worry.”

Wayne loads the boys into his truck. He drives the backroads, quickly arriving outside Steve’s house, his mommy throwing open the door when she notices their arrival. “Thank you,” Steve says quickly, scrambling out of the truck and running to his mother.

She holds him close and cries, yells her thanks. Steve waves goodbye to Eddie as he is carried inside. Mommy kisses his hair and tells him he isn’t allowed to go outside without telling her, that he scared her half to death.

Steve just hides his face against her shoulder, snuggling close.

When Daddy gets home he yells, scolds Steve for causing so much trouble, for scaring Mommy and making them call the police. He gets a spanking before be sent to his room for the night.

Steve never runs away again.

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[hans-wh0re]

A.N: this is a drabble that m thinking of expanding as a fic

"Fuck, that's it baby..." Hyunjin rasped out in a low, filthy growl that made you shudder. His scorching gaze raked over your lewd display through the phone's lens - spine in a debauched arch, mouth fallen slack with blissed-out moans as you eagerly speared yourself on his thick length again and again.

The harsh smacking of skin on skin reverberated through the room in tandem with your desperate, cloying whimpers. Each time you ground your asscheeks flush against his pelvis, Hyunjin's cock would split you apart with that soul-shattering *stretch* that had stars bursting behind your screwed-shut eyelids.

"Nnghh...that slutty little cunt just can't get enough, huh?" he rasped out, voice gone rough with lust. "Taking my cock like you were made for it."

Hyunjin shifted positions then, grabbing a fistful of your sweat-damp locks to wrench your head back at a punishing angle. You gurgled out a pitchy whine past your spit-slick lips as he brought the phone up unbearably close, the lens zeroing in on your ruined, slack-jawed expression with sadistic focus.

"Look at you..." he sneered in dark gratification, studying your glazed, vacant features. "Such a desperate cum-hungry slut. Is this what you wanted? To be my personal fuck-puppet while i records just how much of a messy little whore you are?"

Despite his cruel vitriol, you could only keen out a shuddering, mewling whimper of bliss. Lost in a hedonistic vortex of sensation, you mindlessly shoved your hips back to impale yourself in one long, shuddering grind on the punishing density of his cock.

Hyunjin hissed out a harsh breath through gritted teeth at the feeling of your abused, sloppy hole fluttering and clenching around him in spasming milks. That iron-hard length somehow managed to split you open even wider as he surged in with a vicious snap of his hips. Thick ropes of your essence immediately started to dribble free in vulgar gouts, trickling down over your puffy folds to soak the bedsheets beneath you both.

"That's right you little whore..." he growled, nostrils flaring. Using his grip in your hair, Hyunjin pulled your face up and forced you to meet the camera's gaze while he treated you like a twisted little pocket pussy.

"Give the people what they want. Drool all over yourself while i utterly ruins this messy fuckhole..."

He punctuated the threat with a series of harsh, pounding jackhammer thrusts that instantly punched a shrill, gurgling wail past your swollen lips. Drool collected obscenely at the corners of your mouth as your eyes rolled back in delirious rapture - you were completely gone, nerves thrumming from the onslaught of sensation.

Everything became a spiraling vortex of feral rutting, filthy squalor, and erotic bliss. Hyunjin's physique glistened with a sweat-sheened sheen as he plowed into your squelching, convulsing cunt with relentless, animalistic fervor. The room filled with a cacophony of your pitchy howls, his rough grunts, and the lewd wet sounds of your essence being messily reamed.

The camera (and subsequently Hyunjin's burning stare) didn't miss a single degrading second - greedily capturing every graphic detail of your debauched defilement. And still you craved more, grinding back to meet his brutal thrusts with wanton keening whines.

Stars exploded across your vision as Hyunjin buried himself in one last cruel, obliterating grind that had you choking out a ragged, open-mouthed sob. He held you there impaled on the swollen, pulsating crest of his cock as rich, viscous ropes of seed immediately began pumping into your abused, fluttering hole.

"That's it, sweetheart...fucking milk me..." he snarled against the sweaty nape of your neck, voice utterly guttural with possession. "Take every fucking drop like the filthy cumdump you are..."

[cherryredstars]

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fingering, Fear Play, Dubcon, Choking, Slapping, Mean!Miguel

Summary: He can’t decide if he likes when you cry from pleasure or from fear more. 

Word Count: 1.5K (Not Edited)

Maybe this arrangement was not so bad. 

Miguel knew nerds were full of fun. It was fun to pick on them and watch them tremble. But, that by no means meant he wanted to spend his weekends hanging out with one. He had other things to do, like go to practice and trash abandoned spots with cigarettes and beer cans with his group. But if it meant staying on the team, he could suck it up. Especially when the freak tutoring him is so easy on the eyes.  

A pretty, delicate thing, too. Always trembling like a deer caught in headlights look plastered to your face whenever he appears. Tail tucked between your legs when you spot him on campus with his friends, alarm bells ringing as you try to pass him unnoticed. It is so cute. So precious. And it is so unbelievably easy for you to shrink in on yourself. It is a fucking power trip. It feeds him, makes him hungry for more. 

His favorite pastime is scaring you. Making sudden, jerky movements so you flinch. Loves how you almost fall over yourself, bumping your knees or elbows on the table and dropping shit everywhere. Always making a fucking mess. Always making a mess of yourself. He is extra loud, displaying his power. He is throwing his bag on the ground rougher than needed to. He is pulling his chair out so hard that it flies out and scrapes marks into the carpet. He is tossing his notebooks onto the table and slamming his hand down to the point that it stings his skin. You always yelp, jolting and squeezing your eyes shut. Turning to him with glossy eyes and shaky lips. So delicious. So pretty for him. 

He needs more. More and more and more. He gets everything he wants, and he knows exactly how to get it. It is simply, easy. You are a pushover, you fold easily (a theory he is happy to test in his bed). All it takes is a call, a low tone of voice that is so purposely dark and menacing that you stutter out incoherent babbles. Perfect, absolutely perfect. You are there in an hour, fidgeting when he opens the door. You have that shy, ready to run look in your eyes as you look up at him. You are a fucking prude, gulping and scared at the sight of his bare torso. It makes him want to laugh in your face. This is the most innocent thing you will be seeing once he is done with you.

When you walk through the door, you are so focused on taking in what his home looks like that you scream when he shoves you up against the wall. You are panicking, hips squirming against his cock just right, making him harder than he already was. He is about to punch a hole into his fucking pants when his hands hold your wrists above your head. You are whimpering, stuttering variations of his name as he holds you there. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting into the skin so hard it bruises. He can feel how fast your pulse is under his lips, and he licks at it. 

He is whispering horrible, dirty things into your skin. Sounding like an absolute lunatic as he murmurs how pretty you look so scared and glassy eyed. Rambles about how he has fantasized about the scared look on your face as he pushes his cock into your weeping cunt. How he cannot wait to make you cry as you try to get away from him. He is an absolute predator and he is dead set on making you his prey. And even though you are so terrified, even though you can feel your body shaking and something instinctual in your head telling you to run away, you cannot help the slick liquid spilling into your panties. You cannot help the way your body arches into his and how you whisper his name with something bordering on a plea. 

You spoil him with those noises. His free hand moves to your shorts, a sinister smile as you freeze up. That fight returns as it becomes more real, your hands trying to claw at his in an attempt to free yourself of his hold. It just makes him press up against you harder, causing you to whimper. You are fighting two battles: him and your own body. As his hand slips under the band of your shorts, caressing the wetness that is collected in your panties, you are more and more confident in the fact that you are losing to both. His fingers are cold, sending shivers over your body. When his fingers push your panties to the side and plunge into your dripping hole, you know you are a goner. 

You scream at the intrusion, body completely unprepared to be taking his fingers so quickly. He plunges them in and out of you rapidly, and you can feel how his hand pulls your panties down with the movement. His hand leaves your wrists, and your hands fall onto his arm as you continue to cry out. His hand comes down to rip off your shorts and panties, leaving them as a pile around your ankles. Your nails are digging into his skin, trying to stabilize yourself as his fingers hit against your walls. You can feel his blunt nails against the gummy areas inside of you as he curls his fingers. It stings slightly, causing you to whimper and uselessly push him away. It only makes him speed up. 

You scream again, getting cut off when a sharp slap lands on your cheek. You gasp, head whipping to the side before one of his hands wraps around your neck. You panic again, hand leaving his arm to claw at his hand. He whispers darkly into your ear to shut up, that you'll scare the neighbors and he’ll have to tape your mouth shut. You are so focused on his words and his touch that it takes you a minute to realize he is not really pressing down. He is definitely applying pressure, but just enough so you know his hand is there and he can make it tighter around your neck. When the fear dies away you can feel yourself clench around his fingers, causing him to groan. You like it, you realize, and you whimper up at him. 

He chuckles into your skin, fingers still moving at that relentless pace as your pussy sings out wet noises for him. Your walls keep fluttering around him, and you let out a sob. He tears his eyes away, watching the way water begins to build and flow from your eyes as the pleasure becomes too much. He gives a few more punishing pumps until you are clenching hard around him. He hisses at the tightness, paying back the favor by choking you harder. Your mind is lost in between panic and pleasure as it tries to process your ongoing orgasm and the fact air isn’t reaching your lungs. You are letting out dry moans, eyes darting around his face as your hands weakly claw at his hand. Your head is just beginning to feel fuzzy when he lets go, a few seconds after you stop coming around his fingers. 

He pulls away from you entirely, hand leaving your throat and abused cunt. He takes a step away from you and you crumble on the floor pathetically as you try to catch your breath. Your wet, doe eyes look up at him from the floor, whimpering when you can still feel your cum dripping down your thighs and leaving drops on his floor. Your hand, your entire body, is shaking as you reach for your throat. You hold the skin gently, rubbing at it to get rid of the ache and feel of his hand around it. You almost flinch back when he bends down in front of you. He looks at you with an amused look, before it becomes bored. His hand comes up near your face, and you try to press yourself against the wall. You think he is about to slap you again, but instead he wipes his cum covered fingers against your cheek. You flinch from the feel of it, it's sticky and warm and it reminds you of what you just did. 

He cherishes the wide-eyed look you give him as your chest moves up and down with your breaths. He hums as he stares. Pretty, so so pretty. He gets up, hand ruffling your hair like a dog. Your eyes track him, watching as he picks up your shorts and underwear. His fingers take your panties and shoving them into his pocket. He throws the shorts to you, vaguely telling you where the bathroom is so you can clean up the mess you made. In a dismissive tone, he tells you to hurry up and meet him in the living room to study. 

You watch him go, looking like a broken fairy as another rush of involuntary arousal drips to the floor.

Part 2 Part 3

I think this is the darkest thing I’ve written?? Is this considered dark? It’s definitely not nice.

[em1989ts]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐭 2

part one. main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

summary: after meeting five in the apocalypse, the two of you have a hard time living together. can the two of you control your tempers for one particularly cold winter night to save your lives?

contains: smut so 18+! (reader and five are both 5 years into the apocalypse so they are both eighteen) grinding, dry humping, fingering

author's note: yikes, my first smut. my inbox is open and i'm taking requests!! id love to hear some ideas :) I really wanted to upload this quickly so it's not proofread but eventually i'll edit it . . . but hopefully you guys like this, enjoy!

Living with this stranger definitely changed your life. Whether it was for better or for worse, you had no idea. 

The two of you walked for about an hour to his base, with very little verbal interaction reflecting the very little trust between each other. 

After a little bit of prying on your part, you managed to extract a bit more background information about this guy who you would now be surviving alongside. 

His name was Five Hargreeves. 

He had six siblings. 

They all had super powers. 

They were a team of superheroes formed by their father. 

When he first told you, you chuckled through the bandana over your mouth and nose, but he didn’t display the same humor. 

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Why would I not be?” 

“Well maybe you just went cuckoo here and made up some super stupid backstory!” You replied, pretty certain that he was just nuts. 

Then all of a sudden, he disappeared. 

You jumped at a flash of blue light that suddenly appeared next to you. When you looked back to the area where he was standing, he was gone. 

Looking around frantically, your eyes searched the dusty highway for any signs of him. But there was nothing. 

Was he even there to begin with? Was he just a figment of your overactive imagination? 

Your breathing grew heavy once again as you panicked, then suddenly that blue light and he was right back in his spot next to you, looking amused at your eyes that were wide with shock. 

“Maybe you’re the one who’s cuckoo,” he said with a smug voice. You punched him in the shoulder before the two of you continued walking. 

~~~~ 

His base was interesting, to say the least. 

He had found a building that had only remnants of its walls intact, no roof, and used tarps to makeshift a roof and to cover the enormous gaps in the concrete. 

It didn’t look trustworthy by any means, you’d probably be better off sleeping in cars like you’ve been doing for the past five years. 

He lifted one of the tarps covering a significantly large hole in the wall and crawled in, letting it fall on you as you follow in behind him. You scoffed as you followed his lead. 

He surprisingly had a good stash of resources. Several canned foods, boxes of pasta, and cases of water were stacked in a corner. A makeshift fireplace was in the middle, with a pot leaning next to the circle of rocks. 

There was a small space in the corner. It consisted of what looked like a bundle of tarps and ashy blankets and pillows. You knew whatever happened to the world pretty much converted everything to dust, but he must’ve found those in cars, which somehow withstood some of the fire.

Since you had been sleeping in cars, you collect a couple of sleeping supplies you had found over the years. Thank fuck people decided to road trip before they perished or else you would have frozen to death ages ago. 

You began unpacking your bag and wagon, but you could feel his eyes watching you intently. 

Once you got settled, you didn’t really know what to do to break the unnerving awkward silence, he just sat there staring. You would tell him to take a picture since that would last longer but you're pretty sure there were no surviving cameras in the apocalypse.

The sun had set about twenty minutes ago, leaving the base to get darker as night grew closer. 

He made his way over to the fire pit, and took out a lighter from one of his pockets. When he went to light the wood aflame, the lighter wouldn’t spark. He tried for a while until you couldn’t bear watching the pathetic scene anymore. You took one of the new lighters you had just grabbed today and handed it over to him. He scoffed and snatched it out of your hand, then lit the fire in one try before tossing it on the ground and quickly walking away. 

You were taken aback by his childish actions. Sure, he was alone for years and only had himself to rely on, but now you were here so he shouldn’t be this upset to ask for help with a simple task. 

“You know,” you started with an annoyed tone, “the only reason I’m here is so we can work together.” 

“I don’t need you or your help,” he snapped. 

You cocked your head, not offended but amused. You found his self-reliance ridiculous. 

Sure, it would’ve done him wonders if he truly was the only person on Earth, having no one but himself to rely on. 

But he wasn’t. 

And you sure as hell couldn’t go back to the way things were before. 

If the two of you had decided that you could continue to survive on your own once again, you would drive yourselves mad knowing that there was another human to talk to, that someone else was out there alive and that you weren’t alone. 

You had to stay together to keep yourselves sane. 

“Fine.” 

You had too long of a day to even bother arguing with him. He’d either get used to you or die trying. 

You got up from the dusty ground and tossed yourself on his soft makeshift bed, comfortably taking over. He groaned frustratingly loud, and he tossed his head back and walked outside to get away from the bothersome girl he now had to deal with. 

~~~ 

A few months had passed since Five had encountered the girl at the gas station. That was the last thing he expected when he went out for more supplies that day. 

He definitely never thought he would have to share his hard earned food supply, water supply, and base with her, but that’s exactly what happened. 

She was impossible. She was incredibly sarcastic. She was such a pain. 

And of course, she was a nobody. This meant whenever she got bored of staring into her gross canned beans during those nights by the fire, she would ask about his past. 

He had already told her everything she needed to know, but she kept prying about how he got here, what life was like as a superhero, how his family was. At first, he would ignore her, or at least change the topic to distract her empty mind, but eventually he decided he could tell her little by little. He didn’t trust her, but he knew she wouldn’t try to kill him again. 

Initially, he wasn’t thrilled about being stuck with a girl. He was focused on survival, and his alone. But he quickly realized she was incredibly capable of surviving in this long gone world. Hell, she could’ve shot him dead that first day, yet she didn’t. 

He had been faced with the barrel of a gun several times in his life, yet he’d never felt the way he had when his life rested in the twitch of your finger. 

Your anger did something to him. He blamed it on his teenage hormones, but he couldn’t get enough of when you would pounce at him with a clenched fist. He enjoyed bumping into you purposefully, tripping you, picking you up just to toss you away from him. His constant scowl only hid his raging smirk every time you would get up close, letting him see every detail of your face, how your pupils dilated with intense anger, just to yell about how selfish he was, knowing you were just as guilty. 

If surviving on your own in the end of the world wasn’t hard enough, providing for two was nearly impossible. You had to be extremely cautious about your rations, conserving your intake only to what was deemed necessary. Oftentimes, the two of you would steal from each other when no one was watching, which would piss them off horribly, leading to even more fights. If starvation didn’t kill you, your deadly attitudes would. 

Your tempers had gone through the roof once you started living together. 

Walking away from a fight would call for a knife to be thrown at you behind your back. A snarky comment would result in a hand coming in and punching over your meal. 

While neither of you were going out of your way to deliberately kill the other, you sure wouldn’t mind if it accidentally happened. 

When the nights got colder, and autumn turned to winter, the wind would pick up, making it extremely difficult for the tarps to trap any heat into the base. No matter what the two of you did, the constant flapping drove you insane, and you had already been ticked off when he ignored every single idea you had. His bright idea of just stretching the tarp tight enough over the biggest gap in the whole base led to it ripping right in half, letting the winds fly in with no other tarp big enough to replace it. 

“Great job, you dumb fuck,” you muttered as you turned to the fire, which was too small for its warmth to be felt from the beds. 

Your nose felt like it was about to fall off, your fingers felt like nothing, and your lips were blue. You had put on every layer you could find and it still wasn’t enough. Surely, this was the harshest winter you’d experienced in the apocalypse. 

You had usually been fine sleeping in cars, but every single one within a mile radius had been completely destroyed. The two of you would let out your violent rage on the vehicles rather than each other. 

Five had stared at you from his spot by the hole in the wall, snowflakes freckling his face, holding the remains of the tarp. He did his best to cover as much as he could with the pieces then made his way over to you. He noticed how red your cheeks were, and how pale the rest of you was. You had sat down by the fire and dropped your chin between your knees. 

“We’re not surviving this winter,” you said solemnly. You weren’t necessarily giving up, you would still do what you could, but you had little hope in yourself. Morale was hard to build these days, especially when all you wished was to throw yourself into the fire for even a moment of warmth. 

For Five, giving in to the cold wasn’t an option. Not in the slightest. 

He had an idea, maybe a bold one, but if it meant living to see another spring then he would do it. He walked over to the bed and grabbed as much as he could grab. The tarps, blankets, and pillows stuffed under his arms until he couldn’t fit anymore, and he dropped them right next to you by the fire and started laying them out. 

You lifted your head up slightly and displayed a curious arch in your brow as you watched him remake his bed on the ground. The idea was so obvious you cursed yourself for not thinking of it first. 

As you were getting up to grab your bed supplies, a freezing hand pulled you back down and into him. You caught your balance with your hand on his jacketed shoulder, “What the hell?-” 

“Just listen to me,” he cut you off, “The only way either of us is gonna last the night is if we use our body heat. The fire’s going to help but it won’t be enough.”

You scowled, was that seriously the only option? 

Instead of letting you take your sweet time to contemplate whether or not it was worth it to cuddle with him for your life, he tugged you into him and laid down with you. 

His arms wrapped around your front as he held you against his chest, and holy fuck, it felt as if you had been leaning against a furnace. His heat warmed you up quickly, and you brought a blanket up to your chin to keep that heat locked in. 

The proximity of the two of you was what kept you from falling asleep immediately. His chin resting in your neck made you feel something you didn’t want to admit you felt about Five. His arms around your waist made you want him to move his hands just a little bit lower. 

You had an idea that could get you killed. 

While pretending to adjust and get comfortable, you gently grinded your ass against him, trying to get a reaction. 

Immediately, you could feel his arms tighten around you, and a bulge was already pressing into you. 

He leaned closer to your ear and growled quietly, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You turned your neck to look at him, performing with the sweetest eyes you could display, “Just getting comfortable.” 

Your lips were inches away from his, yet neither of you made a move to close the gap. Five still looked at you with skeptical eyes even though he knew exactly what you had planned. 

Once you moved your hips again, a little harder, he pressed his face into your shoulder as he sighed and repeated the action. 

You let out a quiet groan, enjoying the pressure, yet you brought the blanket up over your mouth to muffle it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

He picked up his pace, lowering his hands to hold your hips firm, rolling them against his. The blush on your face grew even more red, and you could feel beads of sweat forming on your forehead. 

His grip was tight, his groans were getting louder, and it felt like you really had frozen to death because this felt like heaven. 

His hand crawled through your layered sweatpants as he reached between your legs. As his cold fingers reached the spot you needed him most, you almost cried out, desperately needing the pressure. 

His other hand moved from your waist, traveled under your sweatshirts, and found its place on your breast. The freezing touch had such a strong sensation, and the pressure felt so good. 

“Please,” you let out, knowing you’d be kicking yourself later for sounding so painfully desperate, “I need more.” 

He moaned in your ear as his bulge pushed harder against you, “We can’t.” 

“Please,” you pleaded, as his fingers circled your clit.

God, you felt pathetic but it felt so good. 

He groaned as he gathered your wetness. 

“It isn’t safe,” he said, disappointed at the fact that you just couldn’t risk that in the apocalypse. 

Before you could beg, he plunged his long fingers into you, soft moans spilling from your throat at the motions. 

His actions grew faster and so did his panting, you knew he was getting close and you were too. 

You turned your neck to face him, looking up at his flush face. He met your dazed eyes, admiring how your face glowed with pleasure. His eyes locked onto your lips as he moved closer and captured them with his. 

Moaning into each other's mouths was just too much for you both, as he came in his sweatpants as you came around his fingers. He let you both ride out your highs before he gently pulled out his fingers. 

He looked at you unusually sweetly, and as you turned to ask what that face was about he shoved his fingers into your mouth, sliding your juices onto your tongue, letting you taste yourself. 

You were surprised initially and groaned at the action, then bit his fingers which caused him to scowl and quickly pull them out. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” 

“Of course not.” 

~~~

tags: @groovydazephantom

[lilmissuseful]

I loved it it when he opened the truck to put our groceries in, but instead bent me over and held my head in the trunk. He flipped up my skirt to show my bare ass, rubbing and squeezing it and smacking it. I heard his pants unzip, and then he roughly shoved himself deep in my ass in the middle of the parking lot. He slammed into my ass, grabbing ahold of the car to help him slam in me over and over. He kept pumping into my poor little asshole until he finally tensed and came. When he pulled out, he spread my ass to see my sore filled hole. Then he tucked himself back in his pants, telling me not to move. He loaded the groceries in the trunk around me, then left to return the cart. He must have chose to take it to a cart corral on the other side of the parking lot, because he was gone for a while, leaving bent over in the trunk, with my used ass on display. When he returned, he gave my ass another slap. That's when I noticed he was talking to someone! Telling them what a whore I was and how tight my asshole was. He spread my ass to show off my hole, and then let them shove their fingers in to see how tight I was! One even reached down to punch my clit and finger my dripping pussy! When they left, he shoved in my ass again, having worked himself back up from enjoying my public humiliation. After filling my ass a second time, he pulled me out of the trunk, spun me around and lifted my shirt so my tits were exposed. Then he walked me to the front of the car by my hair and let me get in. He made me suck him the whole ride home.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: All of the distractions in the world couldn't keep you from worrying about the potential fallout from your web of untruths--until a bigger issue arose. (5.5k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, brief religious zealotry, insecurities, secret relationship, public displays of affection, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

A/N: This chapter contains a scene I had imagined in my head and became the catalyst for this series--what would happen if Eddie encountered one of the NYC street preachers?

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter thirteen: street smarts

You were supposed to be doing something. Checking the guest log, organizing the bills by due date, making a list of repairs that still needed to be made…something. Anything besides just standing behind the desk, watching Eddie’s biceps flex as he hauled the overfilled trash bag out to the Dumpster. 

At this point, it was all busy work. Taking out the garbage, changing light bulbs, dusting furniture…all scraps of chores to keep him here. The moment he felt like he was being pitied—or worse, like he was being a burden—he’d leave. His pride was too strong and too loud to allow him to stay if he wasn’t working, even if that work was as interesting as watching paint dry. 

That’s what it was. 

“I need you to spackle a hole in Room 9,” you told him as he walked back into the lobby. “The guy staying here last night punched the wall, and it looks like he won.”

Eddie grimaced, flexing his own hand like he could feel the man’s pain. “Jesus. Yeah, sure.” He slid a rubber band off of his wrist and tied back his hair. The sleeves of his t-shirt had been cut into a tank top, though you weren’t sure if he’d done it or the shirt had been designed that way. “Where do you keep the spackle?”

You jabbed your thumb towards the supply closet behind you. Eddie started in that direction, but made an abrupt turn towards you. His arms snaked around your waist, his lips easily finding the crook of your neck. 

Instinctively, your shoulder jerked upwards, protecting you from any further tickling, but Eddie only doubled down. His kisses became less of a whisper and more of a shout, each punctuated with a smacking mwah!

“Ed-die!” Your giggles broke his name into its syllables. “Quit it!”

He paused for a moment and pretended to consider your plea before continuing his barrage of kisses. “Hmm, don’t think I will.” His words were muffled, the vibrations sending tingles through your bloodstream. “What’re you doing after your shift?”

You scoffed. “Um, curling up under the covers and passing out?”

“What if…” He moved his lips to the back of your neck. “You curled up under my covers?”

The suggestion garnered a dual sensation of desire and dread. You wanted that more than anything: the intimacy of laying next to him, his body curled around yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you to sleep. The first night he was here, he wore only boxer briefs. If you slept beside him, would he wear more? Less? If he awoke with that natural, involuntary stiffness between his legs, would you feel it?

But then, despite everything within you leaning towards being with Eddie, reality set in. Your room was the closest to the lobby; how could you possibly skip over it without Dad noticing? Even if he didn’t notice, how could you sneak out of Eddie’s room without Mom seeing? Dad might be oblivious in the way that fathers so often are, but Mom was like a hawk. She could probably sense that you were considering disobeying her orders to keep away from Eddie.

“I’d have to sneak through your window. And then sneak back through my own window in the morning,” you mused. 

“Or,” Eddie countered, spinning you around so you were facing him, “you could tell your parents that you couldn’t resist the cute handyman’s charming advances.”

His brown eyes gleamed with mischief as his hands dipped lower, squeezing your ass through your jeans. It took all of your willpower not to change the sign to read “NO VACANCY”—despite your many empty rooms—and drag him into his bed by the worn collar of his t-shirt. 

“I will.” You wrinkled your nose. “Well, maybe not in those exact terms, but I will tell them we’re…y’know.”

Eddie took a small step back and crossed his arms. “We’re…what?” His tone was somewhere between perplexed and demanding, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t define the relationship while also hoping you would define it for him.

You had no idea what the answer was. ‘Friends’ was far too casual for two people who had been sucking face in the middle of Flushing Meadows Park just last week. ‘Dating’ seemed too formal for only having been on two dates, the first of which hadn’t even been officially stated as a date from the onset. ‘Fooling around in the laundry room every chance we get’ was more accurate, if not a little wordy.

“We’re getting to know each other. Intimately.” You added that last word in an attempt to show him just how much you cared about him. Whatever relationship limbo you two were in would only be temporary. 

“Hmm.” A smirk tugged at Eddie’s lips. “Just how intimately are we talking here?” He tucked his forefinger into your belt loop and pulled you towards him, so close that you could feel his belt buckle through your shirt. 

Glancing around to ensure no one was walking by, you pressed a small kiss to his lips. “I’m gonna tell them. I promise. Just give me a little time.”

Your heart ached when his shoulders slumped. You wanted to fix it all now, to face your anxiety head-on and tell your parents about Eddie. Tell them that you were together and that it could be something serious—without holding your breath for their approval. 

But then there was that knife twisting in your gut, the one that echoed the same statements time and time again: 

You’re a bad daughter You’re disappointing them You’re negating every sacrifice they’ve made

But now a new one joined them, just as unwelcome as the others:

You’re going to lose Eddie if you keep being a coward. 

Eddie held your gaze for another beat before he broke it. His head tilted to the side, a slight pout forming on his lips. “Well, if you promise…” In one swift motion, he swooped in and kissed your cheek. When he pulled back, you wrapped your arms around his lithe waist and drew him back in. “Is that a yes for sneaking through my window?”

You gave him a gentle, playful shove and rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering butterflies that came with the idea. “Go spackle the wall.”

“Yes, dear.” He started towards the supply closet once more, calling out over his shoulder, “what time are we leaving for that college thing tomorrow?”

Everything he said and everything he did encroached closer and closer into relationship territory. Going to Admitted Students’ Day with you was something a boyfriend would do. 

But he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend—not that it would make much of a difference. It wasn’t as though a label would suddenly afford you the freedom to show off your relationship. Besides your parents’ disapproval, that pesky news story about Death’s Echo’s new lead singer kept nagging at you. You technically had information about Eddie’s life that even he didn’t know, and you couldn’t figure out how to tell him. 

“Noon at the latest.” You tried swallowing the lump in your throat, but it stayed put, so you just spoke above it. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know school isn’t really your thing, so…”

Eddie poked his head out from the closet. “Noon it is.” When he emerged, he held the small spackle bucket and a wide putty knife. “By the way, I won’t, like, break out into hives or burst into flames if I go to a school.”

“I know.” Your body relaxed as his humor snaked through the crevices of your anxiety. “And I really do want to tell them about everything. About us, about NYU. It’s just…”

Goddamn the mist clouding your eyes. It was shameful, really, the pity party you were throwing for yourself. But how could you approach your parents and say, “Hey, by the way, I’m dating our de facto handyman. But don’t worry about the relationship affecting the business, because we’ll have to close the motel once I start graduate school in two months anyway. Also, I’m studying social work, not hospitality. Surprise!”

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice was soft, his thumb swiping over tears that fell despite your efforts to hold them back. “Look, if you don’t want me to go, just tell me.”

You shook your head. “I want you to go.” To emphasize your point, you kissed his cheek. The beginnings of stubble tickled your lips. “We can make a day of it. Grab some lunch or something.”

Eddie didn’t look wholly convinced, but he managed a smile. “And then I get to show off how smart you are.”

There was no point in arguing that everyone at Admitted Students’ Day was just as smart as you, if not smarter. Instead, you watched as he padded towards room nine. 

What you wouldn’t give to cave to your desires and climb into his bed beside him. Whether you fell asleep immediately or spent the entire time with him firmly buried inside you was practically irrelevant. You were tempted to follow him right now and have sex with him in the vacant room.

But you didn’t want your first time together to be something you rushed through. Maybe it wouldn’t be the rose petals and naked guitar playing scenario that Ben and Nora had teasingly suggested, but you didn’t want to do it just to “get it over with.” 

So you stayed put, drumming your fingers against the desk’s wood paneling, trying to ignore the heat pooling between your thighs. Someday, you promised yourself, Eddie would be the one to quell that need.

You left your room at noon the next day, armed with a smile and an alibi. Your usual excuse of running errands wouldn’t explain why you were wearing a black button-down dress and your Mary Jane heels. 

The door to Eddie’s room creaked open as you passed by. Without wasting a moment, one tattooed arm darted through the gap and pulled you inside. 

“Eddie!” You hissed at him, bringing one hand to your chest as your heart rate soared. 

His lips were on yours before you could ask why he felt the urge to spike your already sky-high anxiety. Like a miracle elixir, the kiss blunted the day’s sharpness and turned your racing thoughts into drifting clouds. 

Your hands found his biceps, fully on display in the t-shirt that had been altered to be a makeshift tank top. The same one, you realized, he’d been wearing last night. The pads of your fingertips were met with resistance at the muscle that was even more defined than it had been a month ago. 

“Just needed to do that before we left.” His palms smoothed down the back of your dress, lingering for an extra moment on your ass. “Ready to go?”

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded. All of the air had been knocked from your lungs; from the scare or from the kiss, you were still unsure. 

Eddie’s fingers brushed yours as the two of you left his room in a silent plea to hold your hand. You wanted to accept the offer, to proudly display your affection for him. You wanted it more than anything, so much so that you almost let your guard down. Almost took his hand in yours and paraded out into the lobby without a care in the world, subtly announcing that you were his and he was yours.

Almost.

A pang of anger flashed in your chest; not at the situation, but at Eddie himself. He knew you hadn’t told your parents yet. He knew you would face some consequences for dating a motel guest and for sneaking around behind their backs, especially if you brazenly flaunted the relationship without any notice.

Eddie huffed at your rejection. “Oh, right.” Was that disappointment or frustration? Or some lethal combination of both?

Dad immediately noticed the departure from your typical attire when you walked past; he’d already finished skimming the newspaper when you walked in. “Where are you off to?” 

“Hanging out with Ben and Nora.” The lie rolled  off of your tongue, just as you’d practiced in the mirror this morning.

“Double date?” Dad’s question was rhetorical, of course–he certainly wasn’t expecting you to actually go on a date with Eddie–but your breath still caught in your throat.

A cough, hopeful not too conspicuous to draw attention, delayed your response. “Uh, no. Just, uh, friend stuff.” Friend stuff? Christ, were you incapable of lying without extensive rehearsal?

He nodded, not even flinching. Thank God he was at the desk and not Mom, who definitely would have interrogated the truth out of you by now. 

“Have fun, be safe, make sure to ask Ben how his parents are.”

You promised to do all three and dashed out the door before he had time to ask Eddie any questions. 

You reached for Eddie’s hand the moment you were out of sight, relishing in the safety of his calluses and strong grasp. 

“So, friend.” Despite his playful nature, hurt tinged Eddie’s tone. “You sure we’re in the clear? Maybe someone down the street will see us holding hands and report us to the authorities.”

His words formed a pit in your stomach, anchoring you to the sidewalk. “This isn’t just for me.” You face him and take his other hand, too, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If my parents want to, they can kick you out. I need to tell them in a way that keeps them from absolutely losing their minds.”

The lines at the corners of Eddie’s eyes softened. “I know,” he conceded, kissing the tip of your nose. “Was it like this with other guys you dated? Or is it just because I’m staying at the motel?”

Shame washed over you for the second time in as many minutes. “I’ve never actually told them about any guys I’ve dated,” you admitted. “I mean, I’ve been on dates and had some short-term…relationships, I guess you could call them. But nothing serious enough for me to tell my parents.”

Eddie let out an anxious breath before asking his next question. “What does that mean for us?”

There it was: us. One unit, something more substantial than being separate individuals who happened to share a space. 

“Eddie…I really like you.” The confession was a weight off of your chest; you felt your body fall closer to his. “And if they know about us and they don’t approve, they’ll make sure to keep us apart. At least now, we can sneak around without them being suspicious.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else; if not to protest, then to ask for further clarification. But he swallowed his words, opting instead to kiss you. 

His lips tasted like disappointment. You pretended not to notice.

The forty minute train ride to NYU eased some of the tension. With no seats available, Eddie kept one arm tight around your waist, the other hand wrapped around the overhead pole. His thumb caressed the small of your back, fingernail dragging over your cotton dress, as you leaned into him. 

The subway car was hot, but neither you nor Eddie were deterred in the slightest. Not even as that first bead of sweat crept down the back of your neck and dipped below your dress collar. 

If Eddie noticed the perspiration trickling down your spine, he didn’t comment on it. 

The tip of his nose tickled your temple as he loudly whispered, “I didn’t realize I was supposed to dress up for this.”

In addition to his tank top, Eddie wore black jeans ripped at both knees and his signature scuffed Reeboks. It was a stark contrast to your more professional attire—borrowed from Nora, of course—but you didn’t care. Couldn’t even bring yourself to care, not when…

“You look hot.” Your lips lingered on one exposed bicep, leaving a light lipstick print in their wake. “Ridiculously, unfairly hot.”

A bashful grin bloomed on his face. He stood up a bit taller, your compliment replenishing some of the confidence that had been lost. Eddie had certainly taken his share of ego bruising over the last few months: leaving Death’s Echo, the subsequent breakup with his girlfriend, sleeping in a struggling motel just to keep a roof over his head. And on top of it all, he was now with someone who refused to acknowledge the relationship in front of her own parents. 

That settled it. You were going to tell your parents tonight. No more hiding or sneaking around. If they lectured you on their disappointment, you’d take it. You just couldn’t fathom bringing more insecurity into Eddie’s life. He deserved more than that.

He deserves more than you, that irritating voice snarled. It curled itself around your ear like a wispy smoke trail from one of Eddie’s cigarettes, but did not dissipate as quickly. It lingered even as Eddie pulled you in closer to kiss you.

Your response was to slip your hand into his back pocket and curving it around his ass. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to grab onto, but it still woke up something slumbering within you. Something that had remained dormant since you’d gotten caught during the picnic last week. 

Longing stirred, carving out imagery of him atop you, your fingers grasping that sacred flesh without the burden of a denim barrier. You needed to know how he’d treat you in bed. Would he pounce like an animal capturing its elusive prey? Would he take his time and savor you like his last meal on Earth? Would he lovingly gaze into your eyes, or take you from behind to satisfy that primal need?

“What’s our stop again?” Eddie’s voice shook you from your lust-entrenched trance. 

“Oh, uh…” You fought to keep your train of thought on a more productive track. “West Fourth Street.”

He nodded and gripped the pole tighter as the car screeched to a halt. “Then this is us.”

Thank God he was paying attention. You were embarrassed at the mere notion of missing your stop because you were too lost in the idea of having sex with him. How would you even explain that to him?

“Nervous?” He asked as you exited the train car.

You shook your head. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about meeting other admitted students. They’d be a group of people just like you, reaching out a hand to help those in need. A group of people like you and Nora who shared a common goal of being positive forces in a world desperate for kindness.

The climb from the platform up to the street level brought with it a burst of fresh air—fresher than in the station, at least. You and Eddie made your way down Waverly Place, fingers loosely intertwined. He let you guide him, a half-step ahead, your knowledge of the city far exceeding his. 

You were only two blocks away from the school when you heard an obnoxious voice bleating through a megaphone. 

“Repent now or face damnation! You are all sinners who will burn in the fires of Hell for eternity!”

A middle-aged man wearing an off-center toupee stood in the middle of the sidewalk, shouting at passersby. 

“Revelations 21:8–But the cowardly, unbelieving, abominable, murderers, sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.”

You kept walking and ignored the man’s incessant preaching, expecting Eddie to do the same. 

That, you supposed, was naive on your part. 

Before you could stop him, Eddie let go of your hand and whirled towards the offender. His forefingers pointed upwards in mock devil horns, and the noise that came out of his mouth resembled something from The Exorcist. 

The preacher nearly keeled over at the sight of Eddie’s satanic display, sending you into a fit of cackling laughter. 

“Eddie!” You managed to hiss through your giggling. “Let’s go!”

Eddie took your hand once more and let you whisk him away from the dumbfounded man, the megaphone now hanging limply at his side. There was no doubt he would once again be spewing vitriol soon enough, but witnessing his temporary stunned silence was delicious. 

“I can’t believe you did that.” 

He shrugged. “I told you—I single handedly caused Hawkins’ own Satanic Panic. It’s not my first rodeo with these fire-and-brimstone assholes.”

“C’mon.” You tugged him along, shaking your head. “Let’s get out of here before he sics his disciples on us.”

Admitted Students’ Day at NYU’s Silver School of Social Work wasn’t fancy; just some hors d'oeuvres spread out on a white tablecloth to give an air of elegance. Really, it was nothing more than a few fruit and vegetable platters, finger sandwiches, and some pigs in a blanket. You helped yourself to some strawberries and a cucumber sandwich, watching as Eddie piled the crescent-wrapped mini hot dogs onto a paper plate and topped them with a hearty spoonful of spicy mustard.

A chipper young woman wearing an NYU t-shirt welcomed you and Eddie, ushering you both towards a pile of stick-on name tags and permanent markers. You scrawled your name in blue ink and Eddie did the same, though he added “just here for the food” in smaller letters below his name. 

“Okay, everyone!” The woman took to the microphone at the front of the small conference room. “Welcome to Admitted Students’ Day! My name is Ashley, and I’m a recent alumna of our wonderful MSW program.” She beamed and paused for the smattering of applause. 

Ashley brushed a brunette curl from her eyes and continued. “We’ll get started in just a moment, but until then, please mingle and get to know one another.”

When you looked over at Eddie again, he was dabbing at his shirt with a paper napkin. “Dropped some mustard,” he mumbled. Sure enough, a dollop of yellow stained the black cotton fabric. “Guess we’ll need to make another trip to the laundry room tomorrow.” 

You swatted at him, though you couldn’t deny having the same thought. “You also have some right here,” you lied, poking at his cheek. “Here, I’ll get it.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to the spot you had just touched. His skin warmed beneath your lips, and it took all of your restraint not to kiss him again.

A second woman sporting a name tag made her way over to you, accompanied by a man dutifully trailing behind her.

“Hi!” The woman chirped, flashing a smile far more genuine than Ashley’s. “I’m Alexis, and this is my boyfriend, Peter.” She gestured to the man. “It’s nice to see another couple here.”

A couple. You and Eddie were a couple, recognized as such by other people in a relationship.

Peter pointed to the message on Eddie’s name tag. “I see you’re also here for moral support,” he said with a grin. “The things we do for them, huh?”

“Please.” Alexis rolled her eyes, though a playful smile suggested she wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. “I went with you to your boring grad school orientation last week.”

You perked up, latching onto the information so you wouldn’t perseverate on the notion of couplehood. “What are you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering,” Alexis answered for him. “He’s brilliant, but just listening to the course descriptions had me falling asleep.” She turned her attention to Eddie. “What do you study?”

The telltale hue of embarrassment bloomed on Eddie’s cheeks. “Oh, I, um…I didn’t. I mean, I went to high school–finished high school–but I didn’t do the whole college…thing.” 

“He’s a musician,” you offered, if only to quiet his stammering voice. “A really talented one, too. He plays guitar and he sings.” You took his hand in yours in silent reassurance.

To her credit, Alexis didn’t let on that she’d picked up on his nervousness. She just smiled and asked him about the type of music he plays, swiftly shifting the conversation back on track.

The small talk continued for a few more minutes. You’d learned that Alexis and Peter had met in college; they’d both gone to Columbia, which was where Peter would be continuing his graduate studies. Alexis wanted a change of scenery and chose NYU, though Peter mentioned she’d also been accepted to their alma mater.

She went to an Ivy League university? The notion soured in your stomach. It was unrealistic to think that Alexis would be the only member of your cohort to hold a degree from an esteemed school; how would you be able to keep up with them? There was no way your meager city college education could even compare.

Mercifully, Ashley took to the microphone once again, this time with a gray-haired woman by her side, to begin the informational portion of the event. You and Eddie sat side-by-side, and you scooched closer when his arm instinctively draped over the back of your folding chair. The ease was a privilege; you could rest your head on his shoulder without being on alert. There was no threat of being caught, no guilt from sneaking around. The two of you were just another couple sitting in a sea of strangers. The idea was so enticing that you had to force yourself to focus on the course offerings and expected responsibilities. 

You definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with your peers if you couldn’t even pay attention during orientation.

Two hours passed before Eddie’s stomach audibly growled; apparently, consuming his weight in miniature hot dogs was not enough to satisfy his appetite. You were starting to get hungry, too, and you’d spent the last thirty minutes saving off your hunger pangs.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” You whispered.

He nodded emphatically. “You’d think that one of these snobby rich-people schools would splurge for more food,” he said, thankfully under his breath. If someone had overheard…

Not to mention you’d be attending that ‘snobby rich-people school,’ and you were neither rich nor snobby. At least, you hoped you weren’t snobby. But did Eddie see you that way? Did he think you were keeping the relationship underwraps because of a deep-seated shame?

You bade your new friends goodbye, shot a shy smile at the professors who had spoken during the information session, and did your best to make an inconspicuous exit. 

The nearest bodega was just down the block, its shelves stocked with soon-expiring candy and various snacks. Eddie perused the aisles and stared at his options. You were much faster in your decision-making, grabbing a Crunch bar and chowing down as soon as you paid the cashier.

With Eddie still glancing between a bag of barbecue potato chips and a stick of beef jerky, you plucked the latest copy of Star from the rotating magazine stand and leafed through it. There’s no earth-shattering news–stories published in the tabloids rarely are. The most exciting story was about the upcoming Spielberg flick, one where dinosaurs roam the Earth in some sort of prehistoric zoo. You can’t help but wonder if Eddie would take you to see the movie for your third date.

You were about to close the magazine and tell Eddie to hurry up–or just buy both, and you’d foot the bill–when the bolded words in the news briefs section caught your eye.

Caleb Dalton, the lead singer and guitarist of Death’s Echo, checked into rehab after various alcohol-fueled encounters with the law. The band’s management states that they “hope to proceed with the tour” next month, though there is no word about finding a replacement.

Your mouth went dry, and you started choking on the bite of milk chocolate that hadn’t yet melted onto your tongue. Eddie looked over at you, concern etched between his drawn brows at your sudden coughing outburst.

“Wrong pipe,” you managed, closing the magazine as nonchalantly as you could and placing it back on the rack. “You ready to go?”

“Yup.” Eddie fished a dollar bill from his pocket and placed it on the counter. He was already digging into the bag of chips, blissfully unaware of what you’d just read. 

How would he react if he knew? Would he find it amusing that his replacement had already screwed up the tour? Infuriating that he’d been replaced by someone so unprofessional? Would it haunt him or would he consider it to be normal tabloid fodder?

A gut instinct told you to break the news to him—not here, but somewhere private. Somewhere he could process it without causing a public scene. The only thing worse than him finding out is him knowing that you already knew and hadn’t told him. 

Tonight, during your shift. And you could follow it up by letting him know that you were ready to tell your parents the truth. Selfishly, you were glad to have some leverage on them: Eddie would already be upset by the band’s news, so they couldn’t add to that stress by kicking him out, right? 

If only you could tell them about him accompanying you today, just to prove how serious this new relationship truly was. 

One step at a time. 

You savored every moment spent together on the trip. The beginning of rush hour had the train too crowded to find a seat and to hold onto the pole, so Eddie held you by your waist to keep you steady. You felt his lips on the back of your neck every so often, his way of reminding you that he was there amidst the chaos. 

He trusted you, and he trusted you to trust him. 

It had come innately, the way you had divulged your secret to him. Yes, he had grabbed your book and questioned your alleged hospitality studies, but you could have shut him out. Put up a wall and told him to mind his business or hit the road. 

But you didn’t. And neither had he, choosing to divulge his saddest memories to you. Had given you a friendship and then something more. His presence was something you awaited at the start of every shift, the shared conversations now far more welcome than the quiet you once craved.

He always arrived at the desk by ten o’clock, sometimes getting there before you did. You’d find him making Mom laugh or listening to one of her many stories about the plethora of bizarre guests who stayed at the motel over the years. Mom liked him–you knew she did. All you needed to do was pivot her mindset in the right direction.

So tonight, when 10:25 rolled around and Eddie was nowhere to be found, your first instinct was to knock on his door and make sure he was all right. As soon as the thought popped into your head, you dismissed it as ridiculous. He was probably tired from schlepping through Manhattan and fell asleep. He’d probably planned to take a quick nap and promptly slept through his alarm, though you didn’t hear his clock radio bleating through the paper-thin walls.

Maybe this was a sign that you shouldn’t tell him about Death’s Echo and their troubled lead singer. You’d already kept quiet about the televised arrest that you watched at the bar; what was one more secret?

But that would sabotage your plan to pander to your parents with sympathy. You couldn’t exactly take the poor Eddie route without him knowing. Maybe you could–

Eddie’s door opened, yanking your attention from your running thoughts. Your heart beat double-time. This was it. You were going to tell him about Caleb Dalton’s rehab stint, tell him everything you knew.

But the voice you heard coming from his room wasn’t his. In fact, it wasn’t even a man’s.

“Promise me you’ll think about it?” A woman asked, a slight whine in her tone.

“Y-Yeah.” Though you couldn’t see him, you could tell from his hesitation that he wasn’t completely enthused about whatever he was supposed to be thinking about. “I promise.”

A soft mwah had you seeing red. It sounded like she’d only kissed his cheek, but maybe you were only fooling yourself. If she’d kissed his lips, those same lips that you’d been kissing earlier today…

“You’re the best, babe.” Jealousy raged in your core as she spoke, and you fought to keep it from exploding throughout your body. “We’ll get you out of this shithole in no time.” She punctuated her insult with a giggle. “Call me when you have your answer.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” And then his door closed.

Who was this woman? What was she doing here? Why didn’t Mom tell you that Eddie had brought someone to his room?

You got one answer once the mystery woman walked through the lobby, not even acknowledging your existence. She wasn’t wearing the heavy makeup that you’d seen in her photo, but there was no mistaking the owner of that blonde pixie cut, heart-shaped face, and piercing blue eyes.

They belonged to none other than Death Echo’s drummer.

Who also happened to be Eddie’s ex-girlfriend. 

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[greaseonmymouth]

As you've asked for asks!:

Do you have any quick-and-dirty book/fic binding methods a terrified-of-failure novice could use to bang something out to get over the first collywobbling step of Actually Doing The Thing? (this may be something I've been meaning to ask for ages)

yes! I absolutely do! in my opinion the best quick-and-dirty bookbinding method is a no-glue pamphlet: you don't have to mess with glue or measuring or cutting anything, all you need is your text, some paper, a needle and thread. you can use the same needle to punch holes if you don't have an awl.

this is going to be a little long but that's because I'm going to write out some fairly detailed instructions for an A5 sized pamphlet. If you don't want detailed instructions and think you can glean the necessary info from photos, just skip to the photos! I've also linked tutorials.

for preparing the text to printing, in whatever software you use (word, libreoffice, gdocs, whatever) make sure your document is set to page size A5. make it look readable. then save as/export that document as a straight-paged PDF. now go to the bookbinder JS tool (https://momijizukamori.github.io/bookbinder-js/), and upload the PDF. source manipulation: none printer paper size: A4 display unit (you can ignore, or choose cm if it gives you anxiety that it automatically displays points) printer type: select single-sided or duplex accordingly* rotate paper: ignore flip on long side: check if you are printing duplex and if your duplex printer flips the paper on the long side page layout:  tick folio page scaling: original page positioning: centered ignore the rest flyfleaf: ignore signature format tick: standard signatures. in the length drop down, this depends on the type of pamphlet you are doing. for folio i generally find 4-5 pages per signature a comfortable thickness. if you have 6 whole A4 pages you can still do that as a single signature or you can split it into two signatures 3 pages each. wacky small layouts: ignore this signature info click the generate preview button to see what your PDF looks like imposed! I love this step especially when I'm doing quarto (A6) or octavo (A7) sized books generate output - click this to generate an imposed PDF

for A6 and A7 sized books the instructions are much the same, except for these you make sure the page size is A6 or A7 in your software, and then you choose quarto or octavo instead of folio. for signature length drop down I keep signature length to 1 for octavos typically and 2 for quartos, as this still refers to sheets of paper, and for octavo 1 sheet of A4 paper will turn into 4 smaller sheets in one signature once folded and cut.

*if you don't have a duplex printer you will have to manually turn the paper to print on the other side. I cannot be arsed with this so I bought a printer capable of duplex printing (I didn't have a printer anyway). if you already have a printer check what it can do as you might be surprised and go from there.

now to the pamphlets! you don't need a cover - I have one for the long stitch pamphlet but for the saddle stitch one I didn't bother and just made sure the first page had a title on it. you can always take a different piece of paper and print a cover on or or just use coloured cardstock and create a simple cover, but a cover is not necessary unless you're doing a long stitch pamphlet. all you need to do is to punch holes and start sewing. there are a few different stitch types below, I wouldn't say any of them are more difficult or easier than others, but they do look different so...pick one you like the look of and go from there?

pamphlet stitch (uneven number of holes) I haven't ever done a pamphlet stitch but here's a tutorial for how to do it: https://www.starpointestudio.com/simple-pamphlet-stitch-book-step-by-step/

saddle stitch (uneven number of holes) I realised that what I was thinking of as a pamphlet stitch is actually saddle stitch, as in this A7 pamphlet:

here's a tutorial for how to sew saddle stitch: https://www.bookbindingworkshopsg.com/saddle-stitch-bookbinding-tutorial/ here's a video tutorial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWHkY5jOoqM (sealemon has a lot of bookbinding tutorials and I know many people who like her videos, I used her tutorial for coptic binding way back when I first made a book but I can't otherwise vouch for the quality as I haven't used her videos)

french link stitch (even number of holes) in this one I used french link stitch which I typically use for thicker textblocks that i'm not planning to use tapes with as the french link gives it some robustness, I used it here because I had never done it before and wanted to try it out. I am planning to take these stitches out and re-sew this pamphlet with a cover now that I've found a suitable piece of transformer fanart to use as a cover:

french link tutorial. it's quite long but it has a colour coded bit towards the end that shows how the thread is supposed to link which i find very helpful to visualise: https://www.handmadebooksandjournals.com/bindings/french-link-stitch-binding/

here's a video tutoral from DAS bookbinding (he is my go to for techniques and he has the most soothing Australian accent as well, though fair warning not all of his videos are for beginners): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4ZPdbaM-Ws

long stitch (even number of holes) for this one I used long stitch and I had a cover. this one is my favourite variation because I can make these pretty and simple covers and the stitch looks nice on the outside as well, so this one scratches the 'i want to make a book' itch for me.

here's a tutorial that also includes a how to on a cover that is different from my cover: https://lccprintmaking.myblog.arts.ac.uk/files/2020/06/Long-Stitch-Tutorial-A4.pdf DAS also has a video tutorial for long stitch but it's like three videos long, maybe watch it later :'D  here's one I haven't watched but seems decent: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnignTL_wDQ

you can use saddle stitch for this kind of pamphlet as well, that's what I did for dozens of ships and hundreds of souls (https://ashmouthbooks.tumblr.com/post/681587080267202560).

I hope this helped!!

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll. 

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again. 

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.” 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes. 

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force. 

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping. 

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins. 

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights. 

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously. 

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest. 

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands. 

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk. 

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look. 

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly. 

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly. 

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.” 

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway. 

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look. 

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly. 

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip. 

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said. 

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches. 

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips. 

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small. 

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed. 

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered. 

[yourladyem]

The Three Men in Lydia's Life: All About Connections

Richard: "We made a great kid."

Made a great kid. Thought it was an odd saying instead of they have a great kid. Shows he wasn't very much involved in Astrid's life.

Doesn't try to make a connection with his family even when he sees the riff growing between his ex-wife and their daughter. Doesn't do anything even after he sees them again. Goes back to work and doesn't help them in any way afterward. Doesn't tell Astrid how to stay in contact with him even though she has Lydia's gift. Basically like he wasn't around as much as Astrid thinks he was. Not a lot of family pictures in that album she found. The "free spirit" with a dissolved connection who seemed to care more about his causes than his family.

Wasn't really around.

Rory: "It's like we have the same stupid little heart."

Well, we all know what Rory is. Connection through manipulation and trauma. Pulls at the emotional heart strings.

He degrades their so-called connection by using the word "stupid" like there's no seriousness to their relationship or what they feel isn't important enough to be taken seriously but pretends to be serious about her in order to marry her. And we all know the real reason why. More like manipulated teenage puppy love.

Thinks the person they are manipulating is extremely stupid and tried to separate their victim from everyone else.

But like many who've been through similar relationships, the abused is usually the last person to figure it out or they don't possess the strength to leave out of fear of never being enough. But sometimes it takes a certain person for you to listen and see the truth. Enter Beetlejuice.

Childish and selfish.

Beetlejuice: "Lydia and I have a psychic connection."

Never left her. Never lied to her. Never lied about his motives. Never tried to manipulate Astrid. Always kept his word. Seems to want to be a husband and father. Romances her and let her go. Didn't get jealous of Richard and tried to insert himself between him and Lydia during their closure.

Bettered himself with his own business and was devoted to Lydia for 30 years. Seemed to always be talking about her to his employees and maybe others who would listen.

Exposed Rory and knew his true intentions a long time ago. Gets excited when Lydia sees him (even if she is absolutely terrified every time).

Left her alone while she got over Richard's death before approaching her again especially when Rory entered the picture.

The picture on his desk. I don't think Richard had any pictures of his family anywhere including in his little Hobbit hole. He never pulls one out of his pocket and says he keeps it to remember them and it's the one he had on him when he died. None of that. Beetlejuice steals a picture of Lydia and proudly displays it on his desk for decades.

The Hawaiian sequel had him constantly looking at her picture that was always on him. Richard had nothing.

Literally gives her his heart when Lydia gave away hers to two other men who didn't cherish it.

Doesn't push Lydia's family away. He includes them and helps them. He's got a soft spot for that family.

Even after everything, Lydia feels more comfortable and herself around him than the other two. She's bolder. And might even see him as a friend in some ways. She trusts him more. She didn't question Beetlejuice when Rory started spilling the truth. She didn't see the Truth Serum being injected into Rory. How did she know it was the truth and not a trick on BJ's part to get rid of him so he could marry her? Because in the end she knows the one person she's wanted out of her life is one person she can trust the most. He gives her the boxing glove to finish the job on her own. He knows her strength and is even surprised by how much she has when she punches Rory. He's proud of her and wants her to fight for herself and speak for herself.

Always there for her even when she doesn't see it.

He is honest with her when Rory wasn't.

He is devoted to her when Richard wasn't.

He is proud of her when the others weren't or didn't show it.

He listened to her when the others didn't.

He respected her when the others didn't.

He cherished her when the others didn't.

He defended her when the others didn't.

He protected her when the others didn't.

He tried when the others didn't.

He loves her when the others don't.

[captain-hawks]

soshiro hoshina x f!reader, implied gen narumi x f!reader

18+ only, unprotected p in v, creampie, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation, phone sex, spit, dirty talk, implied threesome -> requested

"soshiro," you pant out, eyes darting from the name displayed across his phone screen to his face. "don't you fucking dare."

he winks at you, hips snapping into yours at the same moment he lifts the device to his ear. "whadaya want, narumi?"

pain blooms in your bottom lip as you sink your teeth into it, staving off the moan that's trembling in the back of your throat.

he places his phone on top of a pillow, and captain narumi's voice crackles over the speaker, "we need to talk about next week's joint meeting."

soshiro pulls out of you slightly, only to grind his cock back inside, eyes sparkling with mirth as he traces the outline of your parted lips.

"i'm kinda busy at the moment," he tells him, thumbing one of your pebbled nipples.

you turn your head to the side, burying your face in the pillow as your back arches up off of the mattress.

narumi scoffs, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. "i'm sure you are."

"but if ya don't mind waiting—"

this time, you can't hold back the lewd moan that punches out of you when soshiro bullies his thick length deep into your tight hole, two slick fingers sliding over your swollen clit.

"are you fuc—" narumi starts to sputter, but he's cut off by a deep groan from soshiro as your cunt flutters, clenching down on his shaft.

"sweetheart," soshiro smirks, addressing you this time. "i don't think captain narumi's gonna have the time to come visit us peasants here at tachikawa base any time soon. but i really feel like we all need to have a little chat about what happened last time he was here."

when narumi accidentally walked in on soshiro going down on you atop the desk in his office.

"see," soshiro continues, caressing the curve of your jaw. "we never did get to tell him how hard ya squirted all over my face after he walked out, when i asked if ya wished he had kept watchin'."

there's a faint rustling over the phone speaker, but narumi remains quiet otherwise.

"he doesn't know how much ya love when i talk about him fucking you now. how wet ya get for me when i ask if you could take us both in that pretty little cunt at the same time."

"jesus christ." narumi sounds a little breathless.

soshiro lifts your hips, fucking into you deeper.

"should i tell him how i caught ya in here rubbing yourself on a pillow while ya watched that news footage of him fightin'?"

he smiles down at you, cupping one of your breasts and squeezing.

"and then how we let it keep playing while i fucked you?"

narumi groans.

"soshiro," you whine, not sure if you're more embarrassed or turned on.

you hear more shuffling and the distinct sound of narumi spitting, followed by a wet sliding noise.

"ya touching yourself, captain?" soshiro asks coyly.

"the fuck do you think," narumi breathes out, voice ragged, strained.

"she told me she wants to feel you fuck my cum back inside of her."

narumi chokes and then moans, and you can hear him start to stroke his cock harder. there's another spitting sound, a bit more labored this time, and you're struck by the mental image of him leaning over himself and messily spitting all over his flushed shaft.

your cunt throbs, and soshiro leans in, lips brushing over yours. "go on and say it," he murmurs.

"gen," you gasp out, every muscle in your body trembling on a taut bowstring of pleasure and desire.

"fuck," narumi rasps. "s-say it again."

"gen!"

all three of you moan.

"i wanna feel you fill me up, captain narumi," you whine, dragging your fingers through soshiro's hair.

soshiro groans, lips slotting against yours in a filthy, spit-soaked kiss. "good girl."

narumi inhales sharply. "i'm gonna come."

"she's squeezin' my cock so hard right now, narumi. so fuckin' hot and wet and tight—"

"fuckfuckFUCK," narumi gasps desperately as he comes.

the coil of pleasure inside of you snaps, a wave of pleasure rocketing through your body, soaking you from the inside out.

"love feelin' you come all over my cock, pretty girl," soshiro exhales, partly to you, but partly for narumi's benefit, too.

you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, hot spurts of cum filling you deep.

soshiro lifts up his phone after a moment. "so about the meeting..."

"change of plans," narumi sounds more than a little wrecked when he answers, "we'll discuss it in-person. i'm coming by for a visit."