#day one hundred fifty eight

[187days]

Day One Hundred Fifty-Eight

The one bad thing about the fact that spring has finally arrived is that I’m very allergic to it. My World students were teasing me because my voice kept cracking, and my eyes would get all watery. I looked like I was crying about the quizzes they were taking.

Actually, though, they did really well, so I had nothing to cry about! I praised my Block 2 students, in particular, for being more prepared for this unit’s quiz than the one they took at the end of the last unit. I wanted them to know that I saw the difference, and the academic growth. 

After the quiz, we moved on to the final (!!!!) unit in the course: current world issues. I gave about half the vocabulary words, and will do the rest tomorrow. In Block 2, that’s because I ran out of time. I could’ve finished the whole set in Block 3, but instead I took my students down to the “Mental Health Fair” school counseling was hosting in our gym (local health organizations, businesses, etc... came to play games, provide resources, and generally talk to kids about the importance of mental health). That was great, and- bonus!- I got to see Mr. W, who was there in his current role as a therapist.

I got some delicious, spicy tacos from the culinary class’ cafe for lunch, then taught a decent APGOV class about the current goings on in the NH general court. Students had researched different bills before the House or Senate, so they shared what they’d learned, and we discussed what those bills might indicate about NH politics. I closed class with a lesson on a major political influence in this state: the Free Staters. More on them next time.

Track practice was short because we had to host a middle school meet, but that’s a way for our current athletes- who act as meet officials and run all of the events- to build connections with their future teammates. That’s how a program gets built. It was a lot of fun, and everyone did a great job, so it was an awesome way to end the day!

#teaching #teacher #teachblr #edublr #educhums #education #high school #social studies #mental health awareness #Mr. W #conversations about current events #day one hundred fifty eight #track #coaching

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #nsft #amy dallon #panacea #MY BELOVED GIRL. IS BACK #our writing #dr riley davis mde

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?” 

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

#michael gavey x you #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey #michael gavey saltburn #michael gavey imagine #saltburn michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fan fic #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fan fic #saltburn fanfic

[lgwifey]

Constant Complications

fem!reader x caius volturi

Summary : a short lil conversation <3

Warning : a few words of Google translated Italian

"Can you believe him !"

Y/n had to force herself to not let out a small laugh as she watched as her husband pace up and down the length of their bedroom, poision lacing his words as he ranted about Aro's decicions of that day's court.

"No darling, i can't."

“I mean, the Cullens have broke our main law, and he just lets them get away with it."

The blonde king paused his pacing, turning to watch Y/n calmly removing her makeup before reapplying it so it would be fresh for the next court opening in a few hours. She sat on her vanity stool, now applying mascara as he waited for her attention to be on him. It did remind her slightly of looking after a toddler.

Y/n placed the wand back in its tube and into the makeup bag before turning to him, waiting for his impacient self to start the questioning.

"Yes ?"

"You agree with me, right ? Even if you were at one time a Cullen, you agree with me ?"

“Of course I do Caius. You do well to remember that my loyalties lie with you and the Volturi, not my brother and his new covern."

His eyes softened as she pulled him closer, leaving a small kiss on his frowning features.

“They broke our laws and they should have been treated accordingly, but if Isabella is Edward's mate then she'll become one of our kind soon. We must maintain power by showing we do not kill irrationally."

"Of course." Caius stood, fixing his suit before moving to the other side of the room, Y/n furrowing her brows at his random leaving before carrying on with her makeup, finalising her look by fixing the ruby necklace which hung between her collarbones.

“Caius ?"

The blonde spun around immediately, placing his rings back into their box and giving his full attention to the woman facing him.

"Carlisle didn't know they were here, i'll be informing him next time we meet, he'll deal with them how he sees fit but i'll make sure it's proper."

"And when will that be ?"

A sour look filled the raging vampires expression, he wasn't a fan of his mate’s brother, after he left the Volteri in pursuit of his own covern, Caius lost what little respect he had for the doctor. If it wasn't for Y/n, the entire Olympic Covern would have been wiped out before it started.

"I'm not sure... but it should be soon, i haven't seen him for just over two decades, twenty three years. "

"That isn't that long."

She just rolled her eyes, pulling her cloak over her dress and giving him a small hug seeing how they needed to leave to the throne room.

"Maybe not for you old man, but i'm only three hundred and fifty eight."

"I'm not old, Cullen."

The use of her maiden name as an insult left them both holding back laughter.

"Scilicet."

A few months had past since the incident with her brother's covern and to say Y/n was shocked when a letter arrive in their post for her would be a lie.

"Oh what a surprise. A letter, from Forks."

The queen threw door between the chamber entry and her bedroom open, closing it just as quickly.

She found her husband to be layed down on their king sized bed, stareing up at the ceiling and probably deep in thought on new ways to hurt court arrivals. Her voice was heavily dosed in sarcasm which only intrigued Caius, popping his head up from the pillow. He was holding back his smile at the upcoming lecture about how ungrateful her older brother could be.

“What are the chances that it’s a thank you for saving his creations lives ?”

“Non Sunt.”

Her words came out like a growl, adding in the dramatic eye roll, the blonde could tell that his wife’s upcoming rant was going to be spectacular.

Y/n gave a roll of her eyes before dragging one of her long stiletto nails through the envolope top, acting like a knife.

Her eyes flicked over the inked words in less than a second, taking them all in before growling at the paper and throwing it at her husband.

“Fantastic (!)"

Caius took more than a second to read the page, pausing for a moment before looking up in a confused fashion. He flicked his eyes over it again, at least three times.

“I've never come across that language before. What does this say? How can you read that? "

"It's English Darling, doctor's handwriting. I've just become accustom to reading Carlisle's letters every so often."

She placed a kiss onto his forehead before laying him down again so she could lean on his chest, her brother tiring her out with just the letter. Oh if she could sleep so would’ve blacked out from exhaustion.

"Apparently someone is creating a newborn army in order to kill the Isabella girl, since their covern killed this woman, Victoria's, mate the other year to protect Edward's mate. A lot of mortals are becoming suspicious of the deaths and Carlisle asks if we can do anything about it."

The king let out a sound of complaint before muttering an annoyed "can't we just let them kill her ?"

She tried her hardest to push back the slime growing on her lips from his conclusion, lightly shoved his shoulder, a grin meeting her in reply. Y/n adjusting her head so she could look him in the eyes. They were turning black, reminding her that they both needed some food soon before they both ended up starving.

Caius slammed his head back into his pillow.

“I know Darling, but we have to maintain the first law."

She moved so she could run her nails through his hair, knowing he didn't want to be the one to have to go to his brothers to explain the current Seattle situation.

“I'll go inform Marcus of the news, should I ask him to send Jane and Alec ?"

Caius’ tired out eyes opened up from a slow blink, leaning closer to the comforting circles being threaded and swirled into his hair. His voice came out soft, a tone reserved for Y/n and Y/n alone.

“Felix and Demetri would be a better pair to go."

Caius mumbled before squashing his face under a pillow, hiding from his responcibilities.

Masterlist

#twilight #twilight x reader #volturi #volturi x reader #caius volturi #caius x reader #Caius volturi x fem!reader #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi fluff #cullen!reader

[honkytonk-hangman]

SunKissing

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Eight and a half months Dagger had been at sea, which is honestly one of the shorter deployments Jake had been on, certainly not one he’d have usually complained about, except that this time, for the first time, Jake had somewhere else he wanted to be aside from in his jet.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of sex but no actual smut xx

Notes: again, ty to @roleycoleyland this one is dedicated to you &lt;3 Title from the Hailee Steinfeld song <3

Masterlist

Jake had stopped listening to the others the moment you nervously walked through the back gate. He’s off on the other side of the yard, so Penny reaches you long before he does, smiling kindly as your eyes flicker to her, then down at the covered plate in your hands when she gestures to it. Jake shakes his head internally. He’d told you that you didn’t need to bring anything, but of course you had anyway.

You smile sweetly, but unsurely as Penny welcomes you, and Jake is glad it’s her who saw you first, not one of the others. He hadn’t told anyone about you yet, let alone mentioned that he had invited you to this post-deployment barbecue Mav had all but ordered.

Eight and a half months Dagger had been at sea, which is honestly one of the shorter deployments Jake had been on, certainly not one he’d have usually complained about, except that this time, for the first time, Jake had somewhere else he wanted to be aside from in his jet.

There were very few things Jake liked more than flying, and almost nothing in the world was worth it to him to give it up. Yet, the past eight months hadn’t gone by in their usual halcyon blur of adrenaline and speed, instead, Jake had found that the time to dragged, the days clung and the weeks hanging on like they had made it their personal mission to torture him.

He didn’t get to make phone calls that often, but you’d given him your email before he’d left, and despite staring at an empty document for three days too long, he’d sent you a short, somewhat conservative update, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when not too long after, he’d received your reply.

Jake hadn’t done this before, not even with his family. He preferred the months at sea with no ties and no tethers to anything or anyone on land, completely unattached and free from responsibility. That was the Hangman promise after all, ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’, which had been working out just great for him the past couple of years, right up until he met you.

It was at the Hard Deck of course, where he’d first sidled up to you, all charm and casual cool, certain that he’d found his night's paramour, only to be thanked for the offer of a bought drink, but dutifully informed immediately that you wouldn’t be going home with him. Jake hadn’t been completely taken aback, sometimes he set his sights on a woman who was taken, or just plain not interested, and that was always fine, but that hadn’t exactly been the case with you. You’d simply gone on to inform him that you didn’t do one night stands, which, in Jake's mind hadn’t made you off limits yet, so he’d bought you a drink anyway, this time free of expectations, and to his own surprise, after starting a conversation with you properly, he hadn’t wanted to end it. 

Only after you’d checked the time and told him you’d needed to go had Jake realised just how much he’d enjoyed your company, and so taking a step out of his own usual comfort zone, he’d asked you out on a date.

You’d been unsure at first, like you could read his usual antics all over his face, and told him that you didn’t sleep with people on first dates either, but Jake only laughed at your bluntness, and assured you he’d just wanted to see you again, sex or not. Even now, he’s not sure how much of that was just a line, but in the end he supposed it didn’t really matter, because only three dates and eight and a half months later, it was the most truthful fact about him.

For the past two-hundred and fifty-nine days, Jake had wanted to see nothing but you, and when that couldn’t happen thanks to his deployment, he’d settled for weekly emails. He’d never admit it to anyone, but for the first time in his entire life as an aviator, Jake had come to look forward to your weekly updates more so than he even looked forward to flying.

You’d been so surprised when he’d called you less than an hour after getting boots on the ground at last, even more surprised when Jake had immediately invited you to the Dagger’s welcome home party that night. Which is the reason why you’re currently looking around nervously, and letting Penny take your plate from you.

Jake is fully checked out of the conversation by the time he starts moving, ignoring any calls after him as he makes a beeline toward you, finally drawing your attention when he’s only a few feet away. Much like him, you seem to cease all other focus when you see him, your eyes never leaving him as he quickly closes the distance between you.

“There you are,” Jake all but gushes, sidestepping Penny and immediately wrapping you up, pulling you in firmly with both arms in a hug he doesn’t intend to let go of any time soon.

“Jake!” You barely get out before you’re engulfed. Jake feels his eyes prickle just a little bit when your arms link tightly around his neck, but he forcibly blinks the sensation away, focusing instead on how good it feels to hold you again.

“I’ll take this inside…” Penny says softly, knowingly, but neither of you really notice her slink off. You also don’t notice Fanboy nudge Phoenix, or how the rest of his squad slyly stop their talking to watch the two of you with various levels of interest.

“God, I missed you,” Jake hears himself say before he can really stop and think about it, his heart thumping rapidly away in his chest at the possibility that you didn’t actually feel the same. You laugh a little, and sniff, burying yourself deeper into his neck.

“I missed you too!” You say muffled into the collar of his shirt, tightening your hold on him slightly. Jake lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and squeezes you closer.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asks quieter than before, feeling a few spots of wetness seep through his shirt, as well as hearing the way you sniffle again.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” you try to reassure him, despite the shake to your voice. Jake can only hum, and adjusts his hold on you so he can sweep one large hand up and down you back in soothing motions, something he’s pretty sure he’s only even done once before, to his mother before he left for the Academy damn near seventeen years ago.

Jake just holds you there for a few minutes more, until your sniffling finally stops and you begin pulling back. He’s glad you don’t go far though, keeping your arms around his neck still as you lean back to get a proper look at him. He doesn’t comment on the redness of your eyes, but he does have to blink rapidly to stop his own prickling once again.

“God, look at you!” You say softly, not really explaining what you mean, but you’re smiling brightly, so Jake doesn't care. He sorta gets it, when he runs his eyes over you. You’d gotten a haircut since he saw a picture of you last, he thinks you might’ve changed the way you did your eye makeup. Just little things he wouldn’t have noticed had he seen them day by day, but all at once carry over to be much more noticeable.

“I’m glad you came,” he tells you honestly, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to your mouth, which turns into two quick kisses, which turns into a third, longer, more substantial one. Behind him, someone wolf whistles, and Jake can’t help the grin that covers his face when he pulls back and gets a look at your flushed features.

“Come on, lemme introduce you to these idiots, or they’ll get even more annoying.” He rolls his eyes, but really, Jake can’t get enough of the way it feels to sling his arm casually around your waist and tug you into him as he guides you back to the otherside of the yard. He smiles widely, taking immense pleasure at getting to show you off for the first time in front of his friends. He loves the way you sink into him, hand resting naturally against his sternum, the place where you are feeling like exactly the place you belong.

In fact, Jake believes so firmly that the place you belong is right by his side, he doesn’t let you leave it all night. He’d gotten a lift to Penny and Mav’s with Coyote, so he drives your car back for you, taking your hand and bringing it across the console to rest on his thigh, coving it with his own and giving it a squeeze every twenty or so seconds as he sees fit.

“Come back with me?” He’d asked before pulling out of the curb side parking, glancing over at you meaningfully. It had been you who’d squeezed his hand then, and smiled softly at him in the dark of the early evening.

“If you want me to.” You’d said to him. Considering right up until his deployment you’d been taking it slow, he understands the trust your acceptance really imparts, and feels a warmth spread through him at the mere suggestion.

It’s ironic to Jake that eight and a half months ago he would have be raring to go at your agreeing to come back to his home after a party, but now, with so much time between you and with Jake still firmly in recovery mode from his deployment, sex is really the last thing on his mind. It’s even more ironic to him that once he’s tucked your car away in his garage for the night, and dragged you inside, it’s him who puts the breaks on things escalating, something he’s fairly certain he’s never done before in his life.

“Mmphf… baby, wait, wait…” Jake hears himself say breathily, forcing himself to pull his lips away from yours entirely. He’d been kissing you the moment the front door was shut, shoving you gently against the wall so that he could really savour how you tasted after all these months, but your hands grasping at the front of his shirt, pulling him in, begging for more nearly has him giving it to you right there in his entryway. He refrains, though, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, though indulges the both of you by pressing himself into you, letting you feel his weight on top of you.

“What’s wrong?” you all but whine, brow furrowing sweetly, like perhaps you thought he wanted to stop because of something you’d done. Jake lifts his hands to cup your jaw, tilting your chin higher and plants two more less-than-chaste kisses to your already swollen lips.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this,” Jake starts, a wry smile already pulling at his lips and he rolls his eyes at himself this time. You blink up at him questioningly. “Lets just go slow for tonight,” he says, your disbelief confirmed when you stare at him utter in confusion, your frown deepening. “Listen, darling’, I’d love to continue this line of thought you’ve got,” he can’t help but lean against you harder then, something in his abdomen stirring when your eyelids flutter and he sees you swallow thickly. “But… I’m exhausted, honey… let me just hold you, alright?”

He says the words without much question to them, knowing that you’d respect his request without thought. He’s rewarded for his honesty by you mirroring his hold on your cheeks, your own hands cupping his face as you coo.

“Jake, you don't need to entertain me if you’re tired, I can go home…!” you try to tell him, but he ends that idea with a sharp narrowing of his eyes, his hands gripping you harder.

“Baby I haven’t seen or touched you in months, I’m planning on calling you out of work sick tomorrow,” he jokes, though, the thought does strike him as actually a good idea. You laugh, and for a moment he feels slightly light headed because of it.

When he regains himself again, he drops his lips back to yours slowly and maybe a little too hotly, but he doesn’t regret it. “Come on,” he says eventually, tugging you from against the wall, but keeping the line of your body flush to his. “Let's go to bed baby.”

–

You wake in the early hours of the morning with a small start. At first you don’t recognise your surroundings, which makes your sleepy brain panic, but a few seconds later, a dim light to your left reminds you of where you are and who you’re with.

You peel your eyes open and find Jake lying next to you, his head resting in his palm as he leans up on his pillow, phone in hand, his brightness turned all the way down you suspect. You wake further upon realising he’s wide awake, and clearly has been for some time, but at feeling you begin to stir, the arm he still has draped around you tightens, like he’s trying to soothe you in your sleep. He looks up from his phone then, and it makes your heart flutter something wild that even when he thinks you’re asleep he’s remaining attentive.

“Shh, close your eyes baby,” he whispers, clearly not realising you were fully conscious now. You shuffle closer though, curling into his side, and using the opportunity to take him in fully. Jake always looked beautiful, and you aren’t shocked to discover he was even more so at this hour of the day, with his hair completely mussed from your earlier making out, and his features totally relaxed in a way you’re almost certain you’ve never seen before.

“Why’re you awake?” you ask with a yawn. Jake sighs and runs his hand up and down your back a few times.

“Did I wake you up?” he replies, frowning. You shake your head and stifle another yawn.

“What’re you doin’?” you try again. Jake puts his phone down, tucking it under his pillow.

“Lookin’ up mattresses,” he tells you, pulling you in closer, so you’re facing one another. Neither of you raise your voices above a whisper, and despite everything that has happened tonight, this moment feels more intimate than anything else.

“Jake, I wasn’t bein’ serious!” you faux-scold, but he only shrugs. His hand brushes absently over your spine again, and you’re once again surprised by just how touchy Jake has been since his return.

Before he left, the two of you had been out together a whole three times, only two dates of which had ended in brief, but breathtaking kisses, but despite that, you’d initially been a little surprised when he’d told you he was leaving for the better part of a year, and then proceeded to ask for your contact information. To be perfectly honest, you’d expected Jake to break up with you, not somewhat flusteredly explain to you that emails were the best form of regular contact at sea, and ask if it were okay if maybe he sent you some.

You reach a hand up and smooth down some of his hair. Jake leans into you and closes his eyes.

“The springs in this thing could kill someone,” he whispers, shuffling so that his knee slots between yours. “And if my bunk on the carrier is more comfortable, then I definitely need to upgrade.”

You watch him closely. Usually, in the past, you’d had trouble telling whether or not Jake was being honest with you, but for some reason right now you have absolutely zero doubt he was lying.

You suppress your smile, but only because if your emails over the last eight and half months had taught you anything, it was that Jake found it hard sometimes to be vulnerable just for the sake of it, and often hid it under the guise of other thingsv. You don’t believe him about finding his carrier bunk more comfortable, but you understand this is his way of making room for you, asking you in his own way to stay, much like his asking for your email had been all those months ago now.

Jake shifts and peeks one eye open at you.

“Maybe we can go to the store tomorrow,” he says lightly. You hum, and try not to give your insight away.

“The weekend perhaps? I don’t finish until late tomorrow,” you tell him, only for his head to begin shaking.

“Nope, not working tomorrow,” he insists, at last opening both his eyes when you can’t help but giggle.

“Oh, you were being serious!” you laugh, just as Jake draws you closer, so his breath ghosts over your lips teasingly.

“I won’t be so tired in the morning… and maybe you can help me test out the new mattress.” his voice is low and sends a thrill down your spine at his implication.

“Well, I can’t let you test it out on your own…” you concede, just as he leans in and presses a kiss to your jaw, shaking his head.

“After eight months of ‘testing it on my own’, that would just be cruel.”

You can't help but laugh, scrunching up your nose and lightly smacking his chest. Jake grins, and kisses another spot along your jaw, higher this time, making you barely suppress a shiver. He chortles to himself and adjusts his positioning to wrap an arm around you. You settle in against his chest and for a few minutes the two of you just lay in comfortable silence.

“I want you to be comfortable here,” Jake whispers eventually, making you pull back a little to look up at him. He’s still referencing your much earlier comment about his old mattress, but you really had been mostly joking.

“As long as you’re here, I will be.” you tell him  in just as quiet of a whisper. Jake shuffles, and shifts his eyes away from you, to look somewhere over your head.

“But I’m not always here…” he says even quieter than before, still not looking at you. You want to question why you would be at his house when he was away, but it strikes you then, that perhaps in the future, that's exactly what he wants.

You pull back even more, but only so you can cup his cheeks and force him to look back down at you. Kissing his lips briefly, you lean in and brush the tip of his nose with yours.

“Then let's go mattress shopping in the morning.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction

[pangeen]

Day One Hundred Fifty Eight // Justin Wirtalla

#3Dart #rendering #render #photomanipulation #explore

[chaosandmarigolds]

Among The Bullets

Chapter 2 part 1

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting)

 It had been a solid twenty hours of continuous work, about four energy drinks and two coffees, and three ten-minute naps, you finished round one of the daily tasks, or at the very least you had caught up. Yet, as you slowly move to sit back down on your workbench, you find yourself feeling a bit worse for wear, the sun had already come up and then it had set all over again, so it…made sense that you were tired, or at least you thought it did, or maybe you thought you would drop dead if you kept going or maybe a lot of things but you knew the room was beginning to spin and you knew you had a few more tasks but those could wait another ten minutes. 

Just…a ten minute nap. 

You deserved that at the very least, you had been working for the past twenty-something hours and had been awake for the past fifty- how weren’t dead was beyond you and how you hadn’t dropped was also beyond you. So as you drop your tool into the bag from your seated position you blink to keep the room from spinning.

Then you would be able to crawl back into bed and fall into a deep sleep for a good eight hours, after a shower, or maybe not, you weren’t sure but either way, you grumble as you sit down and rest your head down onto the bench, your tote back rolled up to be more comfortable than your hands. Ten minutes.

“Ho’ long bonnie been out?” 

“Since I got here.” 

Johnny looks at Kyle, “Tha’ been wha? Four hours?” 

With a slight nod, Kyle sat back on the crate he used as a makeshift chair after he had been told to get you so they could start going over the basic procedures needed for the mission, he had a few other plans that included breakfast. yet when he didn’t find you where he had thought you would've been he wandered to the hangar, still in the same clothes you were wearing two days ago. So Kyle shrugs, “Thinkin she was here since last night.” 

Johnny leans over to get a good look at your face, scrunched up as it lay on the bundled-up bag and he looks to Kyle again, moving a step or so away so the noise wouldn’t wake you. Yet that seemed to not matter because you were sound asleep amid a very loud and busy garage, so his efforts, however kind, were useless and pointless. So, they go on about their business, talking for a long bit before Simon finds his way over to them, seeming to be confused because this is not where they would usually be, but Johnny just motions to your very asleep form as he sits there.

Simon looks between his teammates and then you, motioning the tablet to you as he speaks to Johnny, “Ho’ long?” 

“A while.” Kyle responded with a dull shrug. 

With that being said Simon walked over to you and lightly nudged your boot with his, and when that only got a somewhat annoyed mumble he moved to touch your shoulder, hesitantly at that, almost as if he were to touch you it would shatter something. So, after a millisecond of faltering, he lay in hand on your back. He figured it must be a third thing because if he had some random person touch him while he was asleep (which he would never do in a public space) he would’ve quite literally tried to kill the person. You, however, just grumbles moving your head to lay on the other side. He doesn’t know what to do, so he moves his thumb over your spine and speaks, “Wake up.” 

To say a dump of adrenaline was shot into your blood would be an understatement because every muscle and every ounce of cognitive thought was all of sudden turned to a hundred and ten and you shoot up to stand- almost tripping over your bench twice as you got your footing and your vision unblurred. “Sir.” Your words were to catch yourself up and you mindlessly rub your eyes as you adjust to the light, and you look to the other two men, giving them a meek smile as well, “Sirs.”

 “I was jus, ya know…taking a little nap-just a little nap…” You trail off, avoiding the gaze of the masked man who stood a bit too close to you for your comfort, discarding how his hand was extended as if you were about to be very dramatic which you weren’t. Then you notice that the truck you had been working on was long gone, and your blood runs cold, “Wh..” 

   You walk past him and then go to the spot where the truck had been, “Where this?” 

 Their confused stares were words enough and your face contorted to a disgruntled frown, and you motioned to the stained cement ground, “The truck?? The-...the processing number was G839F09. Where did it go??”

“Why do you know the processing number?” Kyle mainly asked for himself and he looked down at the MRE he had been very slowly eating for the past ten or so minutes, and when he looked up he saw you had moved back to the work desk- having the guts to shove Simon to the side and grab the tablet. Seemingly to look for something. 

There was a silence before you let out a huff of air and placed your hand on your chest, “Oh thank god, I thought I-” You look up to still see them very quizzically staring at you and you laugh off the heat in your face, “I-uh, thought I forgot to the drums, I-heh- sleepy me is very detail oriented apparently.” There was another silence, and you then turned around and set the tablet down, letting your heart try and slow the pace it was currently drumming at, and then nodded with a spin of the heel, “Anyway…Where can a girl get something to eat around here?”

“After the briefing,” Simon interjected, causing your head to turn upward to see him, a frown appearing on the faint smile that had managed to weasel its way onto your lips he then motioned to the tablet you had just set down, “Then you’ll eat.”

To that Johnny and Kyle move to stand up, as they were both waiting for this supposed briefing you had just now been hearing about and you try to deny that, following after them as you ramble on about all of the things you need to get done. How the list you had been given was never ending and all the time you had was to eat and maybe nap, however, Simon’s reply was always ‘It’ll be only a minute’ or just a short and gruff laugh as if your concerns were humorous to him. 

Your rambling fell quiet when you entered the room, darkened and silent- a sudden contrast to the hallway you had just been in, stopping in the doorway only to feel the same hand that had awoken you to find the spot in between your shoulder blades; nudging you forward until you were fully out of his way. It was just light enough that you could make out the people, the large screen of what you thought was a TV-like monitor. 

Somehow you had found yourself tucked away in the very back, within the room there were about twenty or so people so you blended among the crowd. Within that, you had found it very easy to simply zone out, somewhat listening to whatever general and whatever they had to say, however, they were saying things you had already read- risky mission, yadda yadda, the part that did catch your attention was the transportation they were choosing to use. 

“That’s a horrible idea, oh my god, that’s so funny how bad of an idea that is,” Is what you thought you were simply thinking however as the sound of rustling and the current speaker, a woman you had met before- Lassie or something you couldn’t remember- looking to you. Your heart fell to your stomach you adjusted the way you were leaning back on the plastic chair, clearing your throat, motioning to the woman, “I…didn’t mean to say that out loud. I am so sorry I-.. please, go on. Please.”

“No, please, you’re our consult. Consult us.” She remarked back motioning you up with her hand and she must have found your terrified stare humorous because a small smile appeared on the expression. However, even though you didn’t want to, you slowly stood and walked to the front. 

With each hand griping the other tight enough to cut off air circulation you speak slowly, “I mean…These would be fine- they’d be fine until you ran out of coolant and you’re now in the middle of enemy terrorists and you’re stuck and then you’d all be dead so I mean…Yeah, they’d be fine.”

A short silence. “What would you recommend?” “Oh, these by far- best mileage and whatnot, you would just need to bring about two gallons of coolant.” You shrug in reply, “However if you wanted a continuous ride with a somewhat similar build I would go with the…the…Q68- yeah, those would be best.” 

A nod, “You got it.” 

“Huh?” No one listened to your words as the woman moved on to the next topic, and so you quickly moved to walk over back to your table and sit back down, shrinking down into the chair.

…

Simon looked back at you for a moment before mumbling, “Bold.” 

    “Bold?” Johnny whispered in reply, “Bonnie up and up tol’ her to shu’t it,”

(Annnnnyway that’s it! Lemme know your thoughts! <33)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #cod x you #cod fluff #ghost x you #x female!reader #x mechanic!reader #coco’s chaos <3 #johnny mactavish #cod john price #kyle gaz garrick

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 15: poison / word count: 787

When Regulus agreed to babysit Venus (Sirius and Remus' puppy), he thought the seven days they would be out of town would go smoothly. Thinking that was his first mistake.

The thing is, Venus is very quiet most of the time... except in winter when there are thunderstorms. It's winter, and what are the odds of that happening three nights in a row? One hundred percent, apparently. To say that Regulus' apartment was ruined is an understatement. 

His second mistake was thinking he could leave Venus alone for more than an hour to go shopping. Regulus takes full responsibility for this one, as he must have seen the noise complaints from his neighbours coming when he had the idea of leaving the husky with apparent separation anxiety alone.

Completely exhausted from lack of sleep and complaints, Regulus thought he could take some time out to distract himself by watching a movie with the puppy, which of course was Hachiko. They both settled down on the couch in the living room with a large carrot for Venus and a chocolate bar for him, and Regulus clicked play on the film. Regulus considers the eight and a half minutes he was awake an achievement. Third mistake.

One hour and fifty-two minutes later, when something warm licking his hand wakes him up, panic overcomes the youngest Black. Venus seems more energetic than ever, the carrot is intact except for a few bites, and there is no trace of what was left of his chocolate bar.

Missing chocolate + Venus = POISON

It's the equation that appears in neon letters all over his brain. 

Regulus can already imagine the thousand and one ways his brother and Remus will kill him for harming their baby, so for a long minute he sits, paralysed, eyes closed, as Venus chews on the sleeve of his hoodie.

When his phone vibrates, indicating a new message, that's all he needs to react, it's a message from Sirius asking how the little furball is, and just as Regulus is about to call and tell him everything in tears, a new message pops up, causing a light bulb to go on in his head.

J. Potter: Dinner tonight?

And Regulus has never been happier that James never gives up on him, so he decides to call him.

"I wasn't expecting you to call and finally agree to a date with me, but I suppose the solemnity of the occasion deserves it, what time shall I pick you up?" is the first thing he says.

"I need help, something bad happened," the younger man says, running his hand through his now tousled hair several times. There is a noise at the other end of the line, probably caused by a sudden movement.

"Where are you?

"I'm in my flat, but James, I need your help as a professional," Regulus says hurriedly. His brother's best friend has been a vet for about three years, so he should know what to do. 

"But you don't have - oh, is it Venus?"

A few minutes after Regulus chokingly confirms "yes" and explains the situation, James arrives at his flat. As he runs some routine tests on the husky, Regulus can't help but think once again how handsome the vet looks today and how grateful he is to have him in his life.

"Are you sure she ate it? She's not showing any symptoms of chocolate ingestion, her temperature is normal, as is her heart rate, and she's not puking. Have you checked the flat?" the doe-eyed man asks as he finishes his inspection. 

The lack of response is enough for James to start scanning every corner of the living room, and when he pulls the chocolate bar of discord from behind a potted plant, Regulus swears he could kiss him, but the feeling that he's been a complete idiot the whole week he's been with Venus is greater. So when the tears of relief and frustration start to fall, he can't help but feel pathetic. 

"Hey, it's all right, okay?" the older one says, reaching over and grabbing him by the shoulders, "I know taking care of Venus can be draining, I had my fair share of her a while back too. You must be tired, let me take care of you, okay?"

And that's how they end up sitting close together on the couch (only because Venus takes up most of it, that's the only reason, really), wrapped up in a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea, watching an episode of Dr. House that Regulus has already seen about 6 times, and knowing that in a few moments, and for the first time, he'll be the one asking James out on a date.

#a bit late but here she is #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders #len writes

[astroworld97]

one-thousand eight-hundred and fifty-five days I've been going through something

#my art #wrestling #mjf

[phoenix-pheces]

Okay so @turquoisespace35 has a Huntlow AU that has quickly become maybe one of my top AUs ever. This doesn’t reeeally work with the cannon events as of some of the new updates, but I still wanted to share it.

—————————————

After Dusk - Part One

Three hundred fifty-eight nights.

Life in the temple was as consistent as the numbers in Hunter’s makeshift calendars. Or, at least, it had been. Knowing when the gates would open again kept him alive and safe. How could he afford not to diligently track the phases of the moon, and the nights that passed with them?

Recently, however, it had become a condemnation each morning. It served only as a solemn reminder that his time with Willow was swiftly coming to an end. She couldn’t stay here forever. He’d be a fool to think otherwise. Still, maybe it would hurt less if he could forget just how little was left.

Willow shifted in her sleep. Her right arm clutched a fold in her peplos as she let out a soft sigh. Though the two tried to keep to the same waking hours, Willow was always the first to fall asleep. There was little she could see as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and usually nothing after all traces of it were gone. Loose stones and pesky pebbles were already hazardous enough in broad daylight.

Hunter picked up an apple from the bountiful mound beside him. Though he was more than happy to gather them whenever Willow needed, he wanted to ensure she wasn’t depending solely on him to eat. Frequently since creating the pile he’d awoken to their characteristic snaps as Willow helped herself to breakfast. She didn’t always notice him stirring awake, and every so often Hunter was able to lay and watch her quietly hum to herself as she smiled and ate.

She was smiling even now. The corners of her lips were turned upright ever so slightly. It allowed the hint of a dimple to emerge from Willow’s upright cheek.

Pretty.

Hunter felt his face grow hot as he dropped the apple in embarrassment. As if he needed an extra helping of bad luck in this life, the entire pile he had so neatly assembled came tumbling down. Despite his best efforts to stop them, he heard Willow stirring behind him. His snakes hissed in delight, and he was equally as unsuccessful in keeping them quiet. They’d always been all too eager to express the emotions he worked hard to keep hidden.

“Hunter?”

She wasn’t looking directly at him, but close enough from the sound of the noise. The sunlight had completely disappeared by now, and Hunter usually needed to stay very close in order for her to see him at night.

“I’m right here,” he said, moving himself to be directly in front of her. She gave him a smile still weighted from her time spent asleep.

“Hey there.” She brought a hand up to cup his cheek, and Hunter felt his face grow even warmer. “You feel really warm, are you alright?”

Hunter cupped her hand in his to move it away from his face. “Everything is fine! Nothing to worry about here!”

His snakes betrayed him, all twisting to look at his hand now holding Willow’s. Though his heart pounded, he didn’t drop it. She had squeezed his hand in return, and nothing was worth losing the feeling growing in his chest at this moment.

They had held hands before, but never quite like this. It had always been when Willow asked for a little extra guidance, or when someone helped take the apples out of the other’s arms. This was different. There was something special about this. Why else would they both still be holding on?

Tell her.

Hunter felt his stomach drop. His eyes darted to Willow’s, but hers were cast down. She smiled in a way that made his heart ache. His snakes knew exactly what he wanted to say to her, and they were definitely beginning to feel impatient: like they might take the matter on themselves any day now. Before he could begin to put his thoughts into words, Willow raised her eyes to meet his, and moved her face much closer. Their noses were almost touching, and Hunter could barely breathe.

“Hunter?”

“Yes?”

She hesitated. Even Hunter’s snakes had gone quiet and barely moved. Willow’s thumb brushed back and forth across the back of his hand. Hunter’s breathing went from shallow to still.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

#huntlow #huntlow au #toh #toh au #the owl house #willow toh #hunter toh

[filmgifs]

“Some statistics: Make-up appliances used during production: approximately eight thousand. Props created for this movie: over three hundred - Number of ornaments: over eight thousand. Number of candy canes: one thousand nine hundred thirty-eight. Crushed marble used for snow on Who suburbs exterior sets: one hundred fifty-two thousand pounds. Outfits created by wardrobe: four hundred forty-three. Number of sound stages used: eleven. Make-up artists used on busiest days: forty-five. Styrofoam used to build sets: two million linear feet (or six miles, if it was cut into standard board length).” How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000) dir. Ron Howard

#filmedit #00sedit #zanisummers #userrobin #usermckayla #usermichi #userlenny #usercandy #chewieblog #how the grinch stole christmas #2000s #fantasy #comedy #gif #gina #flashing gif #1k

[187days]

Day One Hundred Fifty-Eight

This morning we all cut our PLC meetings short to get breakfast, courtesy of some of our students and their parents. There was a whole buffet of homemade, bakery-made (by the families that own the local shops), and store-bought deliciousness. I felt very appreciated!

Of course, I looked like I was crying all day because of my pollen allergies...

I rallied because I had big things to teach today.

In Global Studies, students read ABC's timeline of the hunger crisis in Gaza, and CNN's live updates on the war, and then I opened the floor for comments and questions. So we were discussing the situation in as close to real time as possible. That's a powerful thing to do with students who are still developing an awareness of the world and forming their opinions on it. It can be challenging, as a teacher- no real plan, no idea what the live updates will say until the site loads- but it's so good.

My original APGOV lesson was to have students choose a bill that came before the NH General Court this year- there's a bill search tool on the state government website that can be used for this- and give a little presentation on it. But, instead, we turned our attention back to the national government- namely, to the failed attempt to remove the Speaker of the House from his position, and to President Biden's interview with Erin Burnett. After that, students did start looking up some bills, but we'll do more with that tomorrow.

It rained off and on throughout track practice, but it was a fun one. It started with a giant game of predator, which Coach T orchestrated. The sprinters did 150m repeats after that, which is a tough, solid workout. They were in high spirits, though, shouting about zooming like airplanes and stuff. I was amused.

#teaching #teachblr #teacher #edublr #education #social studies #high school #coaching #conversations about current events #track #Coach T #teacher appreciation #plc #i'm allergic #faculty breakfast #day one hundred fifty eight

[carionto]

Humans and Boredom II

The planet cracker.

A devilish name that somehow still does not do this type of Human ship justice. Arrays of massive gravity hooks capable of tearing out kilometers wide and deep chunks of mass from any celestial object one of them decides to settle in orbit of.

The process is slow and tedious and, luckily, unsuitable for any practical military application, but unimaginably rewarding nonetheless. Once a chunk has been lifted, a fleet of harvester drones meticulously tears it further apart and separates into individual minerals and any other categorizable substances. From there the internal refineries of the planet cracker process them further into more usable metals, alloys, resins, and countless other resources. Finally, another fleet of transport ships ferry those back to where they are needed.

The land based production capacity of an entire (small) planet, with a single (albeit metropolis sized) ship, crewed by no more than a hundred Humans and thousands of drones.

One of these immense beasts - The Hardy Gal - was stationed around one of Saturn's moons - Epimetheus - that was recently voted out of the global popularity contest "Who's Even Heard of This One?" and thus sentenced to become part of the Dyson Ring.

The drone fleet that was supposed to be tearing up the unfortunate little moon, however, was recently recalled for refitting after a report showed a key part was manufactured using an outdated guideline by a suspiciously licensed corporation, that was also caught up in an unrelated embezzlement scandal.

Suffice to say that chief Gravity Master Boris Fruischtyen didn't have much to do. Laws and regulations do not permit any unsupervised extraction results to just be left in orbit. Oh no, can't preemptively arrange chunks for processing later, nope, "efficiency? what's that?". *sigh* Lift, hold, harvest, repeat.

Boris would have nothing to do, except the gravity hook arrays were a set of fifty per array, and The Hardy Gal had eight arrays. Four hundred individually aim-able and moveable chunks of matter.

While his day job was not very productive for now, his social media activity shot through the roof. There's a lot you can draw with four hundred "pixels" and the literal cosmos as your canvas and backdrop.

His personal favorites were water features and creatures set against the blue of Saturn, and he arranged quite a few of the extinct whales and penguins too. Additionally, every day he would fulfill one of the audiences top ranking requests.

Through these he discovered he has a fascinatingly good sense for flower compositions, especially from unusual angles. It's odd. He's only ever seen flowers in images and videos, perhaps lacking actual real life flowers to compare to allows his imagination to fill in the gaps in a way referencing factual knowledge would limit him. Who knows.

Despite having access to a three dimensional canvas, he preferred to keep things flat.

"What can I say, 2D is better. *chuckle*"

However, that doesn't mean he keeps things simple. The gravity hooks are quite good at selective manipulation, they have to be to target certain spots beneath a whole lot of other matter (which is then raised alongside the "elevator" matter). He demonstrated how the same image can look wildly different if you just change the "pixels" from squares to spheres, or how certain material compositions change color when squeezed more densely.

His personal favorite part is the finishing touch. After he's had a drone go out and stream his latest piece from plenty of angles for the viewers, he gives the whole image a simultaneous and gentle push back towards the moon. After a few touching hours of people in chat saying farewell, sharing personal stories and just asking questions Boris is always happy to answer, the image impacts the surface where the majority of parts were extracted from in a spectacular show of minor impacts and a shower of debris. Too bad it doesn't have an atmosphere, just imagine how cool it'd look burning up on reentry.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humanity fuck yeah #humans are artists #boredom #carionto

[space-helen]

Overwhelmed

Words: 541

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: I'll admit this isn't the bed thing I've ever written.

Request: May I please request some fluff and a hint of angst for Nick Stokes x reader (maybe wife or girlfriend)? Just pure softness after a case? - @perasperaadastrawriting

______________________

Walking into the house you plonked down your bag before slipping your shoes off and heading straight for the kitchen. 

You’d done overtime. The case had been intense and tedious but it was finished. Nick had left work before you, getting Greg to bring him home, leaving you the car.

Grabbing some water you let the cool liquid run down your throat before going to the bathroom. You moved through the bare minimums of your nighttime routine and walked to the bedroom.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Nick was sat upright in bed, he knew something was wrong when you didn’t go straight to find him or call for him once you got in. Usually he would also make the effort to come and greet you but Sam was fast asleep over his legs.

You just shook your head as you found your pyjamas. “It was just one of those cases.”

He nodded and pulled back the covers next to him for you to get in. Sam raised his head to greet you and you ruffled your fingers on the top of his head. Moving from Nick's lap to yours he raised his paw to your shoulder and leant in, as if hugging you. 

Petting the dog you sighed. “We bagged and tagged one hundred and fifty individual bullets from such a tiny scene, all from about eight different guns.”

The man turned to you, a slightly shocked expression on his face “and it was only you and Sara on the case?”

You nodded “Yeah. It was manageable but not that late into a shift.” you rolled your eyes and relaxed into the pillows more “I’ll get over it.”

“They could have at least shoved Greg and I on it to help after we closed ours.”

You shrugged “It is what it is. It’s done now.” sighing Sam pulled away from you and looked you in the eyes before turning to Nick.

“Bed.” he said gently and the dog obliged. Jumping from his space, down to his bed in the corner of the room.

The man silently stretched his arm towards you and brought you into an embrace, curling into him you allowed him to hold you close as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. 

You felt all of the muscles in your body relax, there was no comfort like being with your husband. You weren't sure when it'd started but you could feel a dampness on your cheeks, tears running down them for no real reason. 

"What's wrong?" Nick spoke softly as he peered at your face.

"Nothing, I guess I'm just a bit overwhelmed." You went to move your hand to wipe away your tears but Nick's hand got there first. Gently wiping them away.

"We all get those moments." He reassured you "you've seen me have plenty of them" He joked as he gave you an extra squeeze. 

Burying your head into his chest you let out a sigh “I’m glad I found you Nick.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

The two of you relaxed into bed further, you could feel the worries and tension from the day melting away, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms.

Tag List: (open)

CSI: @perasperaadastrawriting @penny4yourthoughtsxtmblr @kitbydesign

#csi x reader #csi stokes x reader #nick stokes x reader #csi vegas x reader

[lina-lovebug]

Tumultuous Waters

Ch.1

Orm Marius fanfic

Warnings: allusions to abuse and sexual assault

I have lived my life without love.

I never once felt affection for my husband, nor did I ever think what he held for me was pure.

He looked at me once and claimed me to be his, but my refusal came with denial. I was his from the moment he laid his eyes upon me, and no power on Olympus nor Earth could keep him from me.

Even when he lay with me, I prayed it would be over soon. I would watch above, hoping to be struck so that I wouldn't have to hear his grunts and feel his skin on mine.

This is the life of a wife to a God.

Yet I was able to find some happiness in our marriage.

I bore a son named Triton, who became King of the Seven Seas. He bore my eyes, which I took pride in. Of course I would never blame my son for the actions of his father, but I had sighed in relief when I saw that the only relation he held to Poseidon was his strength and hair color.

Then a daughter came, to whom I named Rhodos. I feared what Poseidon may do to a daughter of our own - which God's he would attempt to pawn her off to.

But she held a fire in her that he had burnt out within me long ago. Rhodos took charge of her love and future, and found happiness and love in Helios, the Sun God. When Aphrodite had cursed him to forget all of his lovers, including her, it was the first time I found myself marching up to her in rage.

And I punched the Goddess of Beauty.

I feared her retaliation, but instead, the Goddess laughed and smiled upon me. “Finally, someone who refuses to take my shit.”

We became great friends after she reversed the curse and Helios spent many centuries honoring my daughter.

But after my children made it clear that they now had their own lives, I was back to square one. I would spend days watching Poseidon drive his ego so far up his ass that he'd be grinning like he created the universe. Centuries seemed to be slow as I stopped fighting him, and became. . .lifeless.

I missed my family.

I missed the ocean.

But I was reminded that I'm not just Poseidon's wife. I'm a daughter of Nereus, and the third of fifty Nereids who created mermaids and sirens. We are shapeshifters and in the myths and legends for assisting sailors in their journeys across the ocean.

My son created Atlantis. He was proud of his kingdom, and was so delighted to show it to me. He had learnt from seeing his father that no one should rule a Kingdom on their own, but he elected a council to help him truly learn how to be a good ruler.

And he had children.

The Tritonides, similar to my sister's. Never once did a son come from his wife but he did not mind at all. I watched with pride as my son adored his daughters and doted on his wife, despite the lack of assistance and care from Poseidon.

Yet I could not stay in this kingdom.

For Poseidon commanded I return home.

For the next eight hundred years, I stayed in Olympus and found myself slipping again.

He was never faithful.

He was never kind.

He was cruel.

But he's a God.

And I can never be free of him.

I would only hear the news that my son's lineage had no longer been on the throne through Poseidon - who bragged about such a thing. He declared that a merman who had slain King Nero and Queen Athena had taken the crown because of corruption, and laughed.

Not only had our son's bloodline been slain, but his father dared to laugh.

I know I stand no chance in fighting him, but he was our son - our baby boy. So just as I had done to Aphrodite, I had punched him in the face and watched as his eyes turned sinister.

He hit me.

He didn't stop hitting me.

My eyes stared up at him as he prepared to take me, “you think this makes you a man? In all our years together, I have seen you as less than a spoiled boy. How disappointed our son would be if he could see this view.”

He left me with his limp excuse of a cock and I allowed my body to heal through the ocean water.

I had even hoped I would be able to drown.

But as the Queen Mother of the Seven Seas, I prepared myself. The puffy eyes and the bruises vanished as quickly as they appeared, and let Atlantis prepare themselves for their guest.

A permanent guest.

Taglist: @nanamiscunt @illegalcerebral @notasadgirlipromise @cozmicwonder

#orm marius #orm marius imagine #aquaman imagine #aquaman the lost kingdom #the lost kingdom #faceclaim is anne hathaway our queen

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Eight

Day: Friday, October 13th Time: 9:23 PM EST

The game ended at thirteen-six: the most goals anyone had ever taken from Andrew and the worst point gap the Foxes had seen in three years. The stands' disappointed reaction was expected and understandable, but Neil barely heard it through the buzzing in his ears. Neil's heart was pounding so violently he was sure it was beating bruises into his lungs. Every breath he managed to suck in knifed his throat open. The only strength he had left he put into holding onto his racquet. Neil wanted to cross the court to his teammates, but he didn't trust himself to move. He and Kevin had just run two full halves against the Raven defense. He thought it a miracle he was still standing. He felt his legs only in flashes. One second they were on fire; the next they were gone entirely. Neil looked down at his feet to make sure they were still there and blinked shadows out of his eyes. The roar outside the court escalated to feverish screams high pitched enough to break through Neil's exhaustion. He looked up, wondering what he'd missed, and stared across the court. Andrew's hands hovered empty in front of him, and his racquet was on the ground at his feet. As Neil watched Andrew leaned over to pick his racquet up. He tried, anyway. He only got it a foot off the floor before he lost his grip again. It reminded Neil of their first practice together, when Neil almost blew his arms out playing against Andrew. He looked up at the scoreboard. The Ravens had taken an incredible hundred and fifty shots on goal; it was unbelievable Andrew had only missed thirteen of them. He looked back as Andrew tried again to get his racquet. Andrew didn't fare any better this time, so he gave up and sat down heavily beside it. The court doors opened and the subs flooded on. Abby and Wymack stepped into the doorway to watch their team. The subs were heading for the goal, as had become tradition since Andrew started playing full halves, so Neil took a couple unsteady steps in that direction. He didn't get far before Kevin appeared at his side. Kevin didn't say anything, but he rested his racquet against one shoulder and paced Neil all the way down the court. They were the last to the Foxes' huddle but their teammates made room for them easily. Neil answered the tired smiles sent his way with an exhausted one of his own. Kevin had eyes only for Andrew as he crouched in front of the downed goalkeeper. "So," Kevin said, "did you have fun?" Andrew was too tired to put any heat in his words. "You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don't know why I keep you around."

Art used with permission by rainbowd00dles. Thank you so much @rainbowd00dles

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #artists #rainbowdoodles