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its-time-to-write · 2 months

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please don’t be - ch. 3

table of contents glow (so other things can)

“It’s the south of France,” says Julia. “No one’s allowed to be sad in the south of France.”

“She’s not sad,” Nicola corrects. “She doesn’t feel anything, and that can’t be good.”

You shrug and watch the lemon trees sway in the breeze.

You can’t be expected to feel something, not when you’re empty inside. You’d have to have something left of you.

But Jamie… Jamie liked to take. It wasn’t a problem because you liked to give, but at some point something changed and he took your entire heart before you noticed it was gone.

And you’d been so careful too.

It’s not a problem. It’s summer, you’re on vacation in the South of France, and life couldn’t be better. You’re in a sprawling villa with three of your friends, a gorgeous beach nearby, and some of the best food of your life.

You’re glowing.

And you’re going to some couture event that’s really just a party because Nicola’s technically here on work, so the three of you get to wear beautiful Versace dresses and mingle with Europe’s most beautiful and celebrated, all in a gorgeous chateau.

Your brain replays, you should go back to school, so you shake your head to clear it of that choppy, beautiful voice and pretend the sky isn’t the exact color of your eyes.

You take the tube of lipstick from Julia’s hand and decide it’s going to be smeared by the end of the night.

—

There’s nothing quite like losing your head in another country. It doesn’t count, in a way. The boy in front of you is nothing like Jamie and you don’t mind so much, except he doesn’t look into your eyes the same way, and he doesn’t quite know what to say in between kisses.

Not that he needs to say anything, god knows you and Jamie had your uninterrupted moments, but Jamie always knew exactly what you were thinking and exactly what to say. The buzzing in your head stops whenever he enters a room.

The buzzing has only gotten louder as the night progresses.

He pauses long enough to ask, “Can I get you a drink?” so you nod and smile and then knock your head against the nearest tree as soon as he’s gone.

It’s not working.

The whole point of this was to forget Jamie. To remove the last little shreds clinging to your memory.

He shouldn’t matter, he doesn’t, and yet…

You groan, and scrunch your eyes shut. It wasn’t supposed to matter, you knew better. But some floppy-haired pretty-boy prick-ass footballer had said the exact right combination of words to get you to fall so hard and so fast.

“You going back to school?” he asks one evening. You’re both bundled up and walking through Richmond, on the hunt for some coffee.

You shrug. “Don’t know. I’d like to go for a doctorate, but I’m not sure it’s necessary. Be fun, though”

Jamie throws back his head and laughs, pearly-white teeth glowing in the streetlight. “You’re the only fucking person I know who thinks a fucking doctorate is fun.”

He knocks into you, just a nudge, but it sets your arm ablaze. Every touch from him feels like fire.

You’re quiet, unsure what to say next. Jamie, though, Jamie knows what to say. Jamie always knows what to say. He knows where to go, what to do; you never have to think too much when you’re with him. He knows when to ask, and when to choose.

“You should do it,” he continues. “You should go back to school. Be fucking mint, like. I’d get to tell the lads I’m with a real fuckin’ doctor.”

And that was it. That was all it took for the tingling in your arm to shoot all the way to your chest. And sure, you didn’t have time at the moment, but you’d applied as soon as Jamie played his first match back on City turf.

He always knew the way to your heart.

Fuck him for that.

There was a part of you that always thought he wanted more but was too scared to ask.

But you were wrong, so wrong, so fuck Jamie Tartt.

You hear footsteps on the gravel, so you open your eyes, expecting your drink, but are instead met with a stupid Gucci button up, rolled to perfectly showcase a stupid tattoo on a stupid forearm.

“Oh,” is all you can manage. “Sorry. I- I didn’t know you were here. Where’s…?”

“Inside,” comes Jamie’s short response.

“Oh,” you say again.

There’s a part of you that wants to leave, and leave fast, but another, more idiotic part of you wants to stay.

Just for a moment, just long enough for him to apologize, explain, something, although you know he won’t. So you should leave rather than be disappointed.

But you pause for half a second, still blinking up at him (when did he get so close?) and just as you resign yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to walk away, he speaks and breaks your heart all over again.

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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astaraels · 1 month

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so let's talk some more about gallavich and their adopted runaway trans daughter Starr (more on her here and here; it'll make more sense if you read those posts first)

I mentioned that I think Mickey and Ian would move back to the South Side, and they'd have a house instead of an apartment, and that Starr would clean up the place in thanks for letting her stay—while she's doing so, maybe she runs across a school photo of a little blonde kid with a goofy smile, and familiar blue eyes, and big glasses, and she'd bet anything that this kid is related to Mickey

and she finds a frame that isn't being used, maybe up in the attic, and puts the picture in the frame and sets it on the mantel in the living room next to other family photos (Debbie and Franny; Debbie, Carl, and Liam; Lip and Tammi and their kids; a selfie of Fiona at the beach; Mickey and Ian's wedding photo; stuff like that)

so Mickey is home one day while Ian is off visiting his siblings—Mickey is too peopled out that day and decided to stay home—when he notices the new picture with the others; Starr sees his reaction, like he's seen a ghost, and she says she found the picture when she was cleaning, and thought it looked good in the frame. but Mickey's reaction maybe spooks her a little bit, and she's like "I hope that was okay"

Mickey doesn't say anything at first, but he's uncharacteristically quiet when he nods and says "yeah, that's okay" but he doesn't explain—and look, Starr knows when people wanna talk about stuff but also don't want to at the same time, but she's thirteen or fourteen years old and has no impulse control so she asks who the kid is, and even though she guessed it she's still kinda surprised when Mickey says "that's my son"

and she asks him "do you wanna talk about it?" to which he says fuck no; she's all prepared to drop the subject when he says that he hasn't even seen the kid in years, not since he was in prison and Svetlana brought Yev to visit. and slowly—maybe over the next few weeks—she learns more of the story, and even though Mickey doesn't tell her everything, she's smart enough to put the pieces together

because I really love the idea that Mickey and Svetlana get back in touch after everything went down and he and Ian got married (she'd give him shit about where was her invitation and he was all "I didn't know your fuckin address!" but she loved seeing the pictures and said "you and carrot boy look very happy together"), and now they meet up every few months for lunch or something, maybe text now and again; she keeps him updated on Yevgeny and how he's doing in school ("he wants to go to college and be doctor") and she told Mickey that if he wants to meet Yev properly he can, but he's never taken her up on the offer because he thinks Yev is better off without him

and Starr just looks at Mickey, and the picture of Yevgeny—he's a couple years younger than she is, I figure this would be when he's about ten or so—and tells him about how she thought her parents loved her, but that was only when they thought she was their son, and "I don't know what you did before but you can't be worse than my folks"

they talk about it now and again—Ian knows they do but he's learned to let Mickey work through things at his own pace—and she finds out Yevgeny is about to start middle school, and Starr eventually tells Mickey that he should go see his son. Mickey of course thinks it's a terrible idea but she's like look, man, you guys have been great to me, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if your kid at least knew you were out there. unfortunately she's painfully aware of what it's like knowing your parents don't want anything to do with you, but it's also clear to her that it's painful for Mickey to think about his son ("talking to him might be hard, but it can't be worse than staying away")

finally after Starr has been staying with them for a while—she eventually got Ian on the "talk to Yevgeny" train too, and Mickey complained that they were "fuckin ganging up on him"—Mickey goes into the kitchen after dinner, and Starr and Ian can hear him talking on the phone to someone about "-wanna see the kid next time, if that's okay" and they give each other a tiny high five

when he comes back from lunch with Svetlana a few weeks later it's with a smile on his face and some new pictures of him and Yevgeny on his phone, as well as one with him and Svet and Yev

Ian is absolutely over the moon, too, and insists they print out the pictures and put them up on the mantelpiece; and Mickey asks if the two of them wanna come along the next time he sees Svet and the kid (and Ian is like uh yeah I haven't seen Lana in forever and I wanna know how Yevgeny is doing because he loved that kid so much and I really feel like the show dropped the ball on Ian and Svet's relationship too, which is a crying shame)

and the three of them settle in to watch TV together, their cat Duchess sprawled across Mickey and Ian's laps, and their pit bull Lady curled up by Starr's feet in her chosen armchair, and Ian just grins at Mickey and doesn't have to say how proud he is of his husband, because it's written all over his face

(I'm sure I'll write more about Starr and her adopted gay uncles in the future but I just love the idea that she'd be a catalyst for Mickey reconnecting with Yevgeny, and how he'd try his best to be the exact opposite of his own dad ;~; )

#starr verse #gallavich #galladads #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #svetlana yevgenivna #yevgeny milkovich #shameless

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zeldahime · 3 months

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Highway to Pail Day 28

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 28: Shellfie.

Moving to the South Downs wasn't a permanent change—for beings as old as they were, nothing like this could be—but it went along with the real permanent change: that Aziraphale and Crowley could be together publicly, loudly, and nobody in Heaven or Hell could take it away from them or stop them. Aziraphale wouldn't Fall, neither of them would be tortured or punished or killed. They didn't have to duck around anymore, meeting in plausibly deniable ways. Crowley didn't have to leave the bookshop through the back in the dead of night so he could be seen emerging from his flat in the morning. Aziraphale didn't have to meticulously track every miracle he performed in the hopes of not exceeding his budget. They could hold hands.

Being allowed to touch, in public, was utterly intoxicating to them both.

And touch they did. Not just holding hands: Aziraphale was allowing his hair to grow, no longer required to keep it regulation-short, and Crowley fussed over it constantly, tying and untying and brushing and straightening and brushing flyaways into place; Aziraphale fixed Crowley's collar and cuffs, straightened his ties and scarves and pins. They walked arm-in-arm, like was once fashionable, or with arms around shoulders and waists, or hands resting on lower backs. When they talked they leaned in, hands on forearms, cheeks brushing.

They both smiled more, and more genuinely, truly and perfectly happy like neither of them had been since their creations; even more so, really, for all the years of experience behind them and for the pleasure of each other's love and company.

On a bright sunny spring day, Crowley suggested they go to down to the coast, and Aziraphale smiled and packed a picnic, and off they went.

The Bentley blasting You're My Best Friend on a loop the whole way (which irritated Aziraphale much more than Crowley, who was used to it), they headed straight down to Selsey to look out over the channel and get their toes wet. Aziraphale had changed into an old swimming costume, cream and powder blue alternating stripes ending at the elbows and knees, which he'd probably had since old Bertie had crowned at least; Crowley remained in his regular miracled suit, and intended to simply snap into a speedo if they went swimming.

Aziraphale's hand rested just above Crowley's knee the entire way, except when Crowley took sharp turns at a hundred miles per hour, when it did not rest so much as desperately cling for dear life.

The beach was deserted despite the sunshine, still too chilly to draw in human crowds. Aziraphale and Crowley walked along the coast hand-in-hand, looking out over the sea toward the Isle of Wight, the conversation meandering from the mechanics of plate tectonics (which neither of them understood) to a dinner party they once attended with Plato, from a confused discussion of Wales and whales to the plot of a Doctor Who episode Aziraphale had watched in 2007. This led Crowley to recount a blessing he'd done while stateside with the Dowlings, which reminded Aziraphale of a temptation he'd done in Czechoslovakia in 1983, which reminded Crowley of selfies. Crowley'd had a hand in selfies, tempting a young photographers to a bit of vanity, and it had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

His phone was in his hands before he could finish his thought. He interrupted Aziraphale recounting the svíčková he'd had at a bistro in Prague with a command to "Smile, angel!" This earned him a confused look, Aziraphale turning to ask him why, blurrily captured with the tap of a button and a recorded sound effect of a shutter click.

"Whatever are you doing, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked crossly, irritated at the interruption, and Crowley showed him the screen.

The blurry photograph was a nightmare of composition, but Aziraphale immediately loved it more than any in the world, save one. Crowley was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the edge of his sunglasses, one arm visibly extended to hold the phone and the other intertwined with Aziraphale's, Aziraphale clearly beginning to face him. The first photograph of them had been taken at a moment of temporary relief, taken by an enemy and intended to be used against them. The second was pure freedom, pure happiness, taken by Crowley himself, simply because he'd wanted to.

"Oh," Aziraphale said, voice shaky.

"Yeah," was Crowley's equally shaky reply.

"My dear Crowley, you must print this out when we return to the cottage."

"I—Angel, this isn't the only one this phone can take, we can have a better—"

"I certainly hope we will, my dear Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "And I want to print this one."

They looked at the phone, and then at each other, and smiled.

"Yeah. We'll print it."

Aziraphale had it framed. It hung as a set with an old photograph from the Second World War in their library, above a yellow Georgian chaise that held a mismatched throw blanket and cushion, one in red-and-black tartan and the other patterned with cream and blue snakes.

Author's note: This is what came up when I googled "czech food" and HOLY MACARONI IT SOUNDS DELICIOUS. I will be looking for a Czech restaurant that serves svíčková in my area stat.

#my writing #do it with style events #highway to pail #good omens #good omens fanfiction #south downs cottage #aziraphale #crowley good omens #air conditioning #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #azicrow

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putradisguiser · 20 days

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Maa Satjaree’s Servant

David was living the dream - a successful CEO with his own startup, multiple businesses, and the freedom to travel the world. Growing up, he'd always had it good, thanks to his dad's high powered job at a major insurance company in the US. Now, he was living in the laidback town of Pranburi, Thailand with his gorgeous Thai girlfriend, Kanom.

While Kanom provided great comfort and passion, she also came with her share of dramatic ups and downs. Her temper could flare up suddenly, usually about some trivial matter. David often found himself playing the role of peacemaker in her many quarrels with friends and family. It growing tiresome at times.

Before moving to Thailand and meeting Kanom, he'd been married to Michelle, and they had a little girl, India, who had just turned 6. But things had gone south, and now David and Michelle were separated, with Michelle and India still living in his mansion back in Orlando.

His thoughts drifted to his daughter, India. He missed her dearly and tried to visit as much as his busy schedule allowed. Though separated from her mother, he still cared deeply about her happiness and well being. Face timing with her every week helped, but it wasn't the same as seeing her in person.

David was on the phone again, pacing anxiously on the balcony. Kanom watched from behind over hearing him and waiting impatiently for him to finish the call. As David hung up, Kanom came striding down to meet him. "David! What the hell?! You already promised me! What do you mean you’re gonna go back to the States?!"

David let out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Another fight with Kanom was the last thing he needed today.

"Candy, please try to understand," he began in a calm but tired tone. "My mother has been in and out of the hospital for weeks. The doctors aren't sure what's wrong but she's in a lot of pain. I need to fly back to the States to be with her."

Kanom's eyes flashed with irritation. "But why does it have to be next week? Tangkwa's party is important! All my friends and family will be there and they want to meet you!"

David ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Reasoning with Kanom was like banging his head against a wall. Ever since they met two years ago at a Preston's beach party in Hua Hin, she had seemed perfectly content as his girlfriend - at least initially. But lately she'd been growing more demanding and possessive of both his time and money.

Her family came from humble means in rural Prachuap Khiri Khan, and David understood the allure of his wealth and status. At the start he didn't mind lavishing her with gifts. But Kanom was beginning to wear him down with her constant partying, spending sprees, and now this obsession with flaunting their relationship.

Worse still was her jealousy over his past. Even though his marriage had ended years ago, Kanom was convinced he still harbored feelings for his ex-wife Michelle. The accusations and distrust were grinding him down.

David took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience. "Candy, my mom's health is the top priority right now. I'll only be in the States for a week, 2 weeks max. I promise I'll be back for Tangkwa's party."

Kanom shook her head stubbornly. "It's always something with your family. Work, your daughter and your mother. When are you ever going to choose me?!"

Her words stung, but David refused to take the bait. Arguing would only make the situation worse. "Nothing is more important to me than you and our life here. But family emergencies happen, and I need to be there for my mom."

"You know I care about you," he said. "But my mom’s health is my top priority now. I need to be there in case..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice the possibility out loud.

Kanom's face twisted in anger and frustration. David knew this reaction all too well by now, the dramatics were sure to escalate if he didn't diffuse the situation.

Her lip started to quiver in a way he knew all too well. The waterworks were coming. "But I love you and we're supposed to be together. Don't you love me anymore?"

As the first tears threatened to fall, David pulled her into a hug despite her resisting at first. "Of course I love you, Candy. But I have responsibilities I can't ignore. This is just for a little while."

She melted into his embrace then, crying softly into his shirt. David gently stroked her hair, hoping to soothe her fragile emotions. Inside, though, doubts nagged at him. Was this really the stable future he wanted? Or was it time for a change before things went too far?

Two days before David's trip back to Palm Beach to visit his mom…

The sun was setting, casting a golden and pink glow on the beach and David was chatting with his friends at the beachside bar he owned. The place had a lively atmosphere, with laughter filling the air. His laidback demeanor masking the underlying tension he could feel. Across the room, Kanom was deep in conversation with her sister, Tangkwa, but her eyes kept drifting towards David.

"Hey sis, why the stare? You gotta stop looking at him like that; it's kinda creepy," Tangkwa said, noticing her sister's intense gaze. "I can't help it. I just don't trust him," Kanom replied, her eyes darting back to David. "There's something about him that makes me uneasy..."

"What do you mean? He's a great guy and we all know it. Maybe you're just jealous that one of those guys hitting on him?" Tangkwa teased, knowing her sister's obsession with David.

"You just don't understand. I just can't bring myself to trust him. I have this feeling that he's still talking about his ex wife. What if one of those guys is a friend of hers? I need to make sure he's all mine!" Kanom said. Tangkwa sighed, knowing this was a lost cause.

"Anyway, how's Khun Maa? I haven't seen her in a while." asked Kanom. "She's at home, went to Korat for some 'business'," Tangkwa responded, a hint of unease in her tone. "I don't think you should meet her now, sis. You know how she is these days— a bit much. I'd think twice before bothering her. Unless you wanna risk it."

Kanom's eyes narrowed, a determined glint sparking within. "I need to talk to her. I have something I need to ask for."

"Don't!" Tangkwa interjected, "She's in no mood to deal with anyone right now, let it go. Besides, Khun Maa seems like she doesn't want to be bothered right now." she urged.

But Kanom was unmoved, her desperation palpable. "I have no choice. I have to keep David for me!" Tangkwa tried to reason with her, but Kanom's mind was made up. She was going to seek the aid from Mother Satjaree, Kanom's powerful, great aunt who also a a witch whose witchcraft was rumored to be both so powerful and dangerous.

Tangkwa's eyes widened at the mention of doing a witchcraft to David. She knew her sister was capable of desperate measures. "Don't even think about it! It's dangerous, Kanom! Khun Maa is really powerful and messing with her isn't wise!" she warned.

Kanom's eyes sparkled with a dangerous determination. “I can't! I have to make sure David is mine, only mine! I'll do whatever it takes!" Kanom said her voice rising with desperation. David remained oblivious to the brewing storm.

As the sisters argued, David approached them, greeting Tangkwa and asking if she'd like another rum runner. She politely nodded, a big smile on her face.

David then looked up at his girlfriend, Kanom, and offered her a small smile. There was something about her vibe lately that made him a bit uncomfortable, and he suspected it had to do with his upcoming trip to visit his sick mother in Florida.

"Sorry, Tangkwa, I don't think I'll be able to make it to your birthday party," David said apologetically. "My mom is pretty sick, and I need to go back to Florida to be with her. But I can send you the presents later, if that's okay?"

Tangkwa's face fell slightly, but she quickly recovered "Oh no… well, that's too bad. I was really hoping you could come, but I understand your mother is your top priority right now!"

Kanom glared at Tangkwa, subtly shoving her shoulder as the sisters exchanged a tense look. After mingling and chatting a bit more, David and Kanom headed home.

Once there, David announced, "Babe, I'm taking a shower and then going straight to bed, okay?" Kanom nodded, a strange glint in her eye as David disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as David was out of sight, Kanom made a phone call to Maa Satjaree. She poured out her concerns about David's impending trip and her growing suspicions about Michelle. Mother Satjaree listened and then offered a solution.

"But both of you must sleep together, after you come to my place," she instructed. "That's the only way the magic will bind David to you. And I'll need his essence as well - tonight."

Kanom agreed to Mother Satjaree's request, then set about gathering the necessary items - David's worn, damp briefs, a few strands of his hair and a small drop of her own blood.

As David stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed, Kanom greeted him with a sweet kiss. He yawned and stretched, then crawled into bed, not noticing Kanom's furtive actions.

She waited until his breathing deepened, signaling he was fast asleep. Then, with a quick, careful movement, she plucked several strands of his blonde hair, placing them in a small ziplock bag. and sent them to Maa Satjaree's home.

The next morning, Kanom approached David with a sly smile. "Babe, can we go somewhere today? My ‘grandma’ is visiting and she's dying to meet you!"

David hesitated, already planning his trip to Bangkok and onward to Miami. "But I need to go to the grocery store to pick up some things. And I have a flight to Bangkok tonight."

"Don't worry!" Kanom interrupted, her eyes gleaming. "I already called her and she understands you can't be gone for long. Please~ she's so excited to see you! It'll be quick, I promise!"

David sighed, unable to resist Kanom's pleading. "Okay, but no more than an hour." Kanom beamed, already knowing that her plan was falling into place.

David followed Kanom, slightly apprehensive but trusting her. As they pulled up to a modest yet well-kept home on the outskirts of town, Kanom turned to him with a bright smile. Something about this impromptu visit to meet her grandmother didn't sit quite right with him, especially given his impending trip back to the States.

"We're here~ This is my grandmother's place. I know it's not much, but she's so excited to meet you!" Kanom said, practically bouncing with giddy anticipation.

David forced a smile, his instincts telling him that something wasn't quite right. "Alright, let's make this quick then. I really do need to get to Big C and catch my flight."

Kanom nodded, "Of course, of course~ Come on, she's waiting inside." They made their way to the front door, which opened before Kanom could even knock. There stood an elderly woman, her weathered features set in a warm, welcoming expression.

"Ah, you must be David! Kanom has told me so much about you," the woman said, her voice carrying a melodic lilt. She ushered them inside, her gaze never leaving David's face. David felt a slight unease settle in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it aside, determined to be polite. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

The woman - whom he assumed was Kanom's grandmother - smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. David felt a shiver run down his spine, as if the old woman could somehow see into the depths of his soul. He cleared his throat nervously, offering a polite smile. Kanom practically beamed, ushering David inside. "Grandma~ this is my David. Isn't he just the most handsome man you've ever seen~"

Mother Satjaree's lips curled into a enigmatic smile as she appraised David, her keen eyes piercing into him. "Well, indeed, my child. He is quite... captivating. Please, call me Maa Satjaree. And the pleasure is all mine." Despite her appearance she spoke English very well.

David's unease grew, and he cautiously followed the two women deeper into the house, unsure of what to expect. As they entered the living room, his gaze was drawn to an altar adorned with candles, traditional masks, paintings and other mystical looking objects.

"Please, have a seat," Maa Satjaree said, gesturing to a wooden craft chair. "We have so much to talk. I’ll go and make you guys ‘tea’." He could've sworn he saw a flash of something unsettling flicker across the room.

David swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. Something told him that this was no ordinary visit, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to be swept into a world he never could have imagined.

Maa Satjaree came back with a tray of three cups of teas. She gave David the tea with cup made from a clay and nicely crafted with Thai mythical being. As he bring it closer to his mouth he smelled something really awful, he almost threw up. “God…”

Kanom’s happy face turned into a worry “Babe, you okay? Why don’t you drink the tea?” Maa Satjaree looked him deeply she didn’t offended or anything. “The smell… it’s awful…” said David with a disgusted and sick look.

Maa Satjaree chuckled softly, “It’s a special tea. It’s made from natural and healthy herbs I grow in my garden. You probably never had it before so of course you couldn’t take the smell but they’re good for your health and stamina. Especially you’re going to have such a long trip back to Florida, yes?”

David look at her in surprised. How did she knew he was going to Florida? Then she looked up to Kanom “Yeah I said it. So she can’t lock you here forever, right?” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Please drink the tea.” Maa Satjaree said while also pretending to drink hers so did Kanom. David felt so uneasy he didn’t want to drink it but he forced it. As he finished gulped it down in disgust, Maa Satjaree relief. They continued to having a small conversation.

But suddenly midway conversation, David felt something lodge inside his throat. It felt like a hair stuck and tingling his throat. He groaned and coughed but the sensation getting more awful.

The weird sensations grew stronger, David's stomach churning uncomfortably. He tried to groan and pull up whatever was stuck in his throat, but the words caught in his constricted windpipe. Suddenly, his body began to shake, a pulsing sensation appearing in his groin especially in his taint and prostate.

"Mmmph...!" David whimpered, the strange feelings both unsettling and strangely pleasurable. He ran to the other side of the room, shoving his fingers into his mouth in a desperate attempt to dislodge whatever was causing the discomfort.

With a sharp tug, he pulled out a long, thick lock of hair - far more than should have been possible. David's eyes widened in shock and fear as he kept pulling, the hair seemingly endless.

"F-Fuck!" he cried out, bewildered by the sight.

With one final, strong pull, a terrifying, ghostly face emerged from his mouth, its gaping maw revealing sharp, serpentine teeth and a long, forked tongue. The specter let out a blood-curdling scream before diving back into David's open mouth and slithering down his body.

David's form convulsed violently as the entity fought for control. After what felt like an eternity of torment, his eyes went blank and lifeless, before suddenly regaining focus - but there was a sinister edge to his gaze now.

The 'new' David walked back to the room, his movements subtly altered. He approached Mother Satjaree and bowed respectfully, standing before her like a statue awaiting her commands. Kanom's eyes were wide with shock. "Wait, so who the hell is inside him, Khun yai?!" she demanded.

Mother Satjaree's lips curled into a chilling smile. "It's the 'magic.' David is still there, but he no longer has free will. He will do anything you please." She turned to the possessed man. "Putt, are you in there?"

'David' nodded, his voice devoid of emotion as he replied in flawless Thai. "ครับ…", (Yes…) Kanom's mouth hung open, her triumph over David's capture tinged with a hint of unease.

Then Maa Satjaree escorted both Kanom and the possessed ‘David’ to a secluded room, a dark, knowing glint in her eyes. "Onto the next ritual, then," She exchanged an unsettling smirk with the possessed 'David.'

Without warning, this new, sinister David grabbed hold of Kanom and began kissing her passionately, his movements frenzied and hungry. He threw her onto the bed, a predatory grin spreading across his face. Kanom let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly morphed into a moan of pleasure as ‘David’ began ravishing her.

"Oh, slow down, David~ Damn!" Kanom breathed, only to be met with a sinister grin as "David" silenced her with a deep, sloppy kiss.

He pulled Kanom into a deep, sloppy kiss, their bodies intertwining as they hastily shed their clothes. 'David's' mouth trailed down her golden skin, caressing and teasing every sensitive spot. He cupped her boobs, kneading them roughly before focusing his attentions on her aching, erect nipples.

Kanom's head fell back, a loud moans spilling from her lips. "D-David..." she whimpered, lost in ecstasy. This was nothing like her experiences with the old David - this new, primal version of him was driving her wild.

'David's' mouth continued its explorations, finally reaching the apex of her thighs. He lapped at her pussy hungrily, his tongue working her into a frenzy. "S-Slow down a bit…" Kanom pleaded, her body trembling with sensations she'd never experience before with the former David.

Unable to contain himself any longer, 'David' lined himself up and thrust ‘his’ hard erected wet cock into her vagina, ‘he’ let out a deep monstrous moan as he began to fuck Kanom.

Meanwhile, behind the wall, Maa Satjaree observed the proceedings, completely naked as she pleasured herself. She could feel every sensation, every shudder of ecstasy that rippled through David and Kanom, her own desire building with each thrust. The dark magic amplifying the sex into the next level.

As David and Kanom's pleasure peaked, David's jaw unhinged inhumanly wide and a thick, slimy tentacle burst forth from his gullet. Kanom screamed in terror as the wriggling appendage lashed out, plunging straight down her throat.

She tried to scream but could only gurgle in terror as the tentacle tunneled deeper, beginning to drink her down. Blood sprayed in thick gouts as 'David's' body convulsed violently, every inch electrified by obscene pleasure while the tentacle sucked Kanom's very life force out through her.

Eyes rolling back until only the whites showed, 'David' rutted mindlessly. Tentacle gulping her down in time with the brutal pussy pounding. Kanom's groans of agony soon degraded to wet gurgles as she grew frailer and more withered by the second, visibly aging decades in mere minutes as her lifeforce was consumed.

Finally she was just a desiccated husk, falling still as 'David' noisily slurped down her last dregs, leaving only a skeleton splayed obscenely on the ruined bedsheets. Both 'David' and Maa Satjaree climaxed, Maa Satjaree collected her squirt juice in a golden Tibetan bowl.

David cracked his neck, eyes twirled crazily before refocusing. Gathering Kanom's bones, he tucked them neatly into a wooden box, leaving just her skull out.

From a drawer, he retrieved an all-black outfit and other thing. Grinning menacingly, 'he' picked up a wooden dildo, its shape an exact replica of David’s penis just painted in black. ‘David’ sucked the tip lewdly before spreading ‘his’ cheeks and slowly impaling ‘himself’ the wooden penis until it went deep inside of ‘him’. With a throaty groan, cum splattering out around ‘his’ erected pink cock.

Once dressed and stuffed, ‘David’ walked into the next room where Maa Satjaree waited. "Did you get her?" She asked. ‘He’ confirmed, presenting Kanom's skull with a smirk. Maa laughed, handing David the bowl of her juices. "Now drink this."

‘David’ gulped it all down greedily until the last drop. David’s phone rang - it was Mason, David brother. At Maa's nod, ‘David’ answered, altering his tone to his former self's.

"Sorry man, can't make it to mom. Gotta stay here... forever." ‘He’ hung up abruptly, crushing the phone to dust in ‘his’ supernatural grip.

‘He’ pulled Maa into a deep, sweet kiss then ‘David’ standing devoid of emotions next to her obediently, awaited Maa Satjaree orders, pure darkness burning behind his eyes…

#my writing #male possession #male tf #male transformation #m2mpossession #male body swap #male body switch #male possess #malepossession #mtm #stolen body #maletf #gay fantasy story #malebodyswap #maletransformation

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zoesblogsposts · 4 months

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o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

#second language #language #learning #rory gilmore #smart #tips

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kickflipped · 2 days

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Is that Mark Lee? Oh, no, that’s Kitae Park, a twenty-four year old professional skateboarder (on hiatus) & lifeguard on Golden Beach Street who uses he/him pronouns. They currently live in Vina del Mar, and the character they identify with most is Spongebob from Spongebob Squarepants. Hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas!

𝒊. dossier.

FULL NAME kitae “kit” park AGE 24 GENDER cis man PRONOUNS he/him ORIENTATION bisexual OCCUPATION professional skateboarder on a health hiatus / lifeguard at golden beach street BIRTHPLACE mokpo, south korea CURRENT RESIDENCE chile. HAIR black, messy cut EYES brown, large, round HEIGHT five foot nine / 175 cm TATTOOS the text “no wings needed” on his left shoulder blade PIERCINGS earlobes SCARS a collection of them on his legs, especially right leg

PHOBIAS slightly claustrophobic DRUGS + ALCOHOL y / y CURRENTLY WATCHING hunter x hunter chimera ant arc CURRENTLY LISTENING imagine dragons / linkin park / kenshi yonezu / day6 SOCIAL MEDIA tiktok - shares clips of his coolest tricks and also cringe fails, moderate-large number of followers, has not been active in a year

𝒊𝒊. history.

cw: leg injury mention / divorce mention

kit loves skateboarding. it's the one thing he's good at, been good at since he'd picked up a board at the impressionable age of nine. since childhood, his parents' relationship had been strained - always teetering on the edge of divorce, with explosive fights tearing up their small apartment in mokpo, south korea every night.

he finds refuge in the skate park, pours a little too much of his time there. it becomes a second home when home is too uncomfortable, even more so when his parents finally bite the bullet and cut each other loose, leaving him floundering in the middle.

for a while, he goes back and forth between mom and dad. they live in different cities; his dad remarries quickly - quick enough that it rubs him the wrong way. kit doesn't make his displeasure known during the wedding, only letting it loose in the half-pipe where he brute-forces his way through learning a new trick, knees and elbows skinned.

friends he makes at the park push him towards the pro path and it quickly becomes clear that he's good at it. like, really good. if the amount of time he was spending on this sport was excessive before, it becomes his whole life now. medals and trophies quickly adorn his shelves when he gets his own place, and his parents separately praise him for his achievements. sometimes they even come watch, both of them on opposite sides of the stands like they'd discussed beforehand a careful distance - his father with his new wife and his mother with her work friends, and kit splits his time between the two of them post-competition, having two celebratory dinners.

it's fucking exhausting. if kit isn't careful his existence becomes yet another point of contention. he's spending more time with mom, of course he loves mom more - and now dad's acting all cold, and his new wife looks uncomfortable, and kit pours even more of his time into skateboarding because it's the one place where he feels like he's free and unburdened.

then comes the injury, which... well. no skating for half a year sounds like a death sentence. kit shrugs it off. he ignores his doctor's advice and gets back in the half-pipe way too soon, which leads into injury number two, which is a lot worse than the first one. it's so much worse that he's pulled from the upcoming olympics.

ironically enough, the first time he sees his mother and father in the same room since their divorce is when he's in the hospital, leg wrapped in bandages - and even then they argue.

𝒊𝒊𝒊. currently...

post-injury, kit moves to chile to live with his aunt and uncle (from his mother's side). it's a move supported by his various therapists, for the fresh air and surroundings. he's ignoring his parents rn he has both of their numbers blocked for peace of mind!

right now, he's coping with the summer olympics coming up (that he'd had to pull out of), doing physical therapy, and trying to find supplemental meaning in life.

working as a lifeguard (position courtesy of his uncle, who'd pulled some strings for him) - but don't catch him doing much at the job besides reading and occasionally blowing his whistle. he does not care fr

he still gets away with skating sometimes, just lightly and casually. no tricks. sometimes he'll go to popular skater spots just to watch wistfully.

ceo of saying "it is what it is" "fuck it we ball" "well on the bright side..."

can come off as gratingly cheerful at times (he tries really hard to seem happy, content, and optimistic) but after he runs out of stamina he has a tendency to snap and do a complete 180.

#*𖤐 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗽 ⋆ ( muse .ᐟ )#valpohqintro #no wc yet bc i got tired but!! i have lots of ideas in my brain!! cant wait to plot w u all soon!!!

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lordgrimwing · 6 months

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Friends and Family #03

“This is nice,” Maglor said, stretched out on a beach towel, as his dripping brother settled next to him, wet from running in the gentle waves with his adopted sons. He closed the novel he'd picked up at a second-hand store the day before.

Maedhros grunted, his mouth occupied by several bobby pins as he fixed his hair, recoiling the soaking braid atop his head. The whole point of pinning his hair up so tightly was to keep it out of the salt water, but he hadn’t expected Elros and Elrond to grab his hands and drag him down into a particularly large wave.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy,” Maglor continued, nodding to the boys splashing and paddling in the waves, their nearly shoulder-length hair hanging in loose, soaked clumps.

“They love it,” Maedhros said with a soft smile. He’d come up from that wave spitting sand and might have been irritated except he ended up with two armfuls of very excited peredhil. By the time he left the surf, he’d become much better at diving through waves.

They sat in silence for a minute, taking in the scene: seagulls cried overhead, keeping a sharp eye out for abandoned snacks; the twins played along the shore, a younger elf child coming over to join them; other families staked out their claim across the sand, leaving towels and umbrellas to mark their favored spots. The beach was both busy and soothing.

“We should do this more.” Maedhros decided, rinsing his mouth out with water from a bottle and then taking several drinks.

Maglor raised his eyebrows. Fëanor nearly had a fit when they announced that they’d be taking a few days off work during the week so they could do something with the boys during their school holiday. “Who’s going to tell father?”

His brother rolled his eyes in a way that would have had Fëanor pinching his ear if he were an elfling again. “He can take his doctor's advice and take up birdwatching,” He said dismissively.

As the eldest sons, they were privy to more details of their father's health than he appreciated.

Maglor snorted at the suggestion.

More seriously, Maedhros said, “Maybe just an occasional weekend, then.”

They watched the boys and their new friend join a group of older dwarves building an impressive sandcastle. Maglor smiled. “We really should.”

The sun arched across the clear blue sky. Maglor called Elros and Elrond back for lunch. They ate cold tuna salad sandwiches from the cooler on a blanket Maedhros spread on the sand so they could all sit together. Elros showed the adults the blue shell Elrond found in the tide, proudly telling them about the cool shells they found over the years on the coast further south. The younger twin hesitantly asked if he could make necklaces for them all from pieces of the shell when they went back to the city.

After lunch, the twins wanted to go back into the ocean.

“Not right after eating,” Maglor shook his head. “Wait thirty minutes.”

Elros looked like he might want to argue, but his brother grabbed his hand and demanded that he bury him under the sand so he could pretend to be a baby sea turtle.

Maedhros took off his shirt, arching his back and enjoying the warm sun on it. Their father really might have an aneurysm if he found out exactly how publicly immodest his sons got when he wasn’t there to frown at them for rolling up their pant legs. He repacked the cooler and sprawled out on the towel, stretching his long arms and legs and bumping into the other occupant. He grinned at his brother. “Join us this time,” He invited.

Maglor picked up his book and fingered the pages. “I'll get sand in my hair,” He said. He's done his hair up in a dark half bun, leaving a loose tail down his back.

“I'll braid it for you.” He said. “The rest of us need to wash tonight already.”

“Promise not to push me under?”

“I would never,” Maedhros laughed, recalling when, decades ago, they were teaching their younger brothers how to sail on a windy lake. Caranthir insisted that the flimsy life jackets couldn't possibly keep them safe in the waves, refusing to set foot on the light boat. When it became clear that he wouldn't trust the words of his brothers, Maedhros shoved Maglor off the edge, leaving him to flounder in the water until their three younger brothers boarded.

Maglor shuffled around so he faced away from Maedhros. “Go ahead and braid.”

The tall redhead sat up. He quickly undid the bun and set about dividing the other’s hair into four parts at the crown of his head.

They sat quietly while he worked, Maglor watching the other families.

A human woman with frizzled brown hair caught a child who looked about seven years old by the elbow. She wore a striped green and gray swimsuit with a white over-shirt and large sunglasses.

“Oh no you don’t, Elianor,” She admonished, pulling the girl back to the family’s towels and bins of beach toys. “You’re going to be red as a beat and peeling in the car tomorrow if you don’t put more sunscreen on.”

“Mom,” The girl complained as white ointment was slathered across her bare back and under the edges of her swimsuit.

“Do your face and ears,” The woman directed, squeezing more of the sunscreen out of a yellow bottle for her daughter before bending down to coat her legs.

Once everything was worked in and the white layer was exchanged for a slightly oily sheen, the child was released into the water. Once all the children were appropriately protected and freed, the woman popped open a beach chair and settled under an umbrella.

She looked over at Maglor as Maedhros began pinning the braid up like his own. “Some children never learn,” She said by way of explanation.

He said something in noncommittal agreement, a nagging thought starting to form in the back of his mind.

Her eyes flicked around their towels, blanket, and cooler. “Just the two of you then?” She asked.

“No,” Maglor said quickly. “The twins in red burying each other in the sand are ours.”

She looked out to where he pointed. “Cute,” She said in the way he was discovering many parents did when talking about other people’s kids. She leaned back in her chair and probably closed her eyes, though he couldn’t tell past the glasses.

Maedhros patted his head like he did when they were kids. “There you go, ready for the water.”

Maglor scooted around to face him again. “Don’t get my hair wet.”

Hands raised in surrender were his only response.

He looked down at his wristwatch. Twenty minutes still to go. That nagging feeling kept eating at him. He picked up the book again, opening to where he left off. He tried to read, but he couldn’t get back into the story.

All at once, he dropped the book and turned to Maedhros.

“We didn’t put sunscreen on them!”

“What?” The other asked, blinking as he came back from wherever the warmth sent him drifting off to.

“Elros and Elrond,” He said, looking over to where the boys were just a couple heads sticking out of the sand, several other kids having joined in on burying them. “They’re part human. They could get sunburns!”

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t packed sunscreen, he didn’t even think Maedhros or he had any at their homes. Such a simple, everyday thing for humans, and they’d completely forgotten about it. He dreaded to think about how painful the children’s skin would be tomorrow.

Maedhros frowned. “They’re part elf, too,” He reasoned. “Why should they get burned?”

“They might,” Maglor repeated with worry. “I should go buy some. Or maybe we should all leave so it doesn’t get any worse.”

Maedhros sighed. “It’ll be a thirty-minute drive each way. The damage is already done if it’s going to happen, so let’s not ruin the rest of the day. Besides,” He added. “They’ve clearly spent a lot of time in the water. I think they’d know if they need to worry about it.”

Personally, Maglor never thought it was too late to start mitigating damage, but his brother had made up his mind. He’d just have to deal with whatever came of it.

#let them be happy!#let M+M experience a real childhood through E+E #stumbling their way through parenthood #whatever happens later. they love each other now #when your kids are peredhil and you don't know when they'll be like humans vs elves #it's happy time but i sure am sewing the seeds for later things in this one #Maglor is the parent who worries #change my mind #the silmarillion #maglor #maedhros #elrond #elros #twdd au #grimwing writes

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professionalbratqueen · 2 years

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Hello, Neighbor

18+ only, please.

Originally posted by darkling-er

Every year, you and your best friend head to her parent's beach house for three weeks of summer fun. This year, there's a new neighbor.

Pairings: Ari Levinson x female reader

Media: The Red Sea Diving Resort

Warnings: Ari Levinson is a warning in and of himself, blatant objectification, awkwardness, no filter, manhandling, oral sex (m and f rec), unprotected sex (honestly, don't do that), squirting, fluff, don't trip on that second sentence, not beta'd

Word Count: 3,827

Notes: Omg, I done it! It only took me months more than it should have. 🙄 I feel like this could be a fluffy little series about the three week vacation or even later but I don't know. I guess it depends on if anybody likes it. 💕

Read it on AO3.

The beach house had become a tradition. Every summer since the two of you had met at orientation your Freshman year of undergrad found the two of you sharing your best friend's parents' summer home that lay on the coast within sight and walking distance of the water.

You took a deep breath, smelling coffee from the machine you'd just turned on and clean ocean from the open window. It was a bright, beautiful day and the first of your three-week vacation. When the coffee finished, you poured yourself a cup and doctored it to your liking before stepping out onto the front porch.

There were voices in the next yard. Nobody had ever been in residence the entire time you'd been coming here but you remembered Melanie's dad mentioning it had been sold recently. Trying to hide how nosey you were, you hid behind one of the porch pillars while peering over at the two men standing in the grass.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, eyes helplessly locked on the demigod in short swim trunks talking to another neighbor who'd been on his morning run. "Oh, my God, what is going on?" Your numb fingers tightened on your coffee mug in an attempt not to drop it, every other possible bit of brain-power draining somewhat south. "What is happening?"

He was gorgeous. He was beyond gorgeous, the word didn't even do him justice. From the top of his head crowned with pretty, silky hair that just begged your fingers to run through it to the tips of his toes which were strong and well-formed--and what the fuck, you noticed toes now? From this far away? What kind of useless--?

The screen door opened with a mild screech behind you and Melanie stepped out onto the porch.

"Help," you whimpered, eyes taking another leisurely stroll down your new neighbor's perfect body. Sun-kissed skin and rounded, soft-edged muscles, all tucked into a broad, tight package that screamed strength. A smattering of hair over his chest and belly. And what a belly. You could write sonnets to those abs. You wanted to press your face into his skin and chew. And his thighs. You'd do some terrible, horrible things to have those thighs choke you to death. "Oh, God, Mel, please help."

"Honey? What’s the matter?" she asked, immediately concerned.

"He's so pretty, Mel. He is so pretty, I am going to die. Please help, it's been like five minutes and I can't look away and he's going to catch--" You whipped your head toward her with a yowl when she pinched your side, body flinching the opposite direction. You missed the way Gorgeous And Godlike turned toward the sound, blue eyes narrowing. "Ow! What the fu--why are you such an awful person?!"

She was laughing at you while she calmly sipped her coffee. "What? I helped! You're not staring at him like a crazed stalker anymore." She giggled into her cup before getting herself together.

"I hate you," you told her sincerely, finally remembering your own coffee, grateful you hadn’t spilled it all over yourself. "So much."

Melanie tsked and shook her head. "Well, that's rude. Better find your manners, he's heading this way." You choked on the warm liquid, sputtering and coughing as she cackled beside you.

"Ladies...everything all right here?" His voice was deep and friendly and things tingled when you heard it. "Need any CPR?"

Melanie slapped your back hard enough to break your paralysis and you cleared your throat. "Hi! Uh. Yeah, we're good. I just sometimes forget I'm still not a mermaid." You cringed internally, absently wondering where your brain-to-mouth filter had gone. "No...uh. No CPR necessary," you told him, eyes widening because you knew it was coming and for the love of all that was holy, you could not stop it. "Unless you just wanna practice?"

His eyes were very pretty, an ocean blue with a beautiful little sparkle that was still there even when he was blinking at you in surprise. You could feel flames coming from your cheeks and you winced, helplessly blinking back at him.

Melanie cackled again, sounding more like an evil witch than your best friend. "Oh, I see you two are gonna get along great. I'm Melanie, she's Y/N."

He smiled at her--a very nice smile--then went right back to staring at you. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ari. I just moved in next door."

"Oh, we know," Mel snickered and danced out of the way of your blind smack. "I have to go inside and do something else now, you two enjoy."

The screen shrieked closed and silence descended upon the porch. Ari was still down on the grass, looking up at you. You fiddled with your mug, looking away because now your body decided to be shy. "Um. So. Just moved in, huh?" You cringed even as you were saying it, throwing him a desperately apologetic glance.

He smirked at you easily, not seeming put off at all. "Yeah. Didn't bring a lot with me, though, so unpacking is already all done."

"That...that's good," you mumbled, shifting from foot to foot and trying to keep from ogling him again. No. Up, up, stay on his face! Bad eyes, no cookie. "Unpacking's the worst."

"Sure is." He grinned up at you and you felt your breath stop; he was too pretty to be allowed. "Want to come and see the house?"

"Yes, yes, I do, thank you," you blurted, abandoning your coffee on the porch railing as you flew down the stairs. He laughed and caught your hand, leading you over.

His hand was huge, fingers calloused but not painfully rough. Up close, he smelled like citrusy bergamot, floral neroli, and earthy musk, overlaid with clean, salty seawater. His skin was warm, blood hot against your perpetually cool fingers and you squeezed unconsciously. He saved you from burgeoning embarrassment by squeezing back.

All of the houses in the area were custom-built, not a single one exactly like another. Where Melanie's parents' house had a distinct Cape Cod bent to it, Ari’s was ultra-modern, looking like various-sized boxes stuck together, some glass, some entirely enclosed in metal siding with windows. The downstairs looked like several rooms from the outside but when you followed him in, you saw one huge space with an open kitchen, a dining area, an entertainment area, and an area that looked like it might be a library someday.

You looked around with lifted eyebrows. The light was, frankly, amazing in there; any wall that was plaster was covered in framed art, otherwise, it was all glass. The view of the beach was gorgeous, especially from the dining table. The stairs came down in the middle of the room and there was art on the outside of them, too, no space wasted.

The kitchen was a chef's dream. You didn't even cook that much but found yourself salivating at the extended island, the commercial reach-ins for the refrigerator and freezer, and the Viking range. You paused and whispered, "It has a grill," in awed tones and Ari chuckled softly, right behind you. You didn't turn, not exactly surprised at his proximity. Instead, you leaned forward to touch the water spigot against the wall, arching your back a little and pushing your ass out. You didn't quite touch him, it was more an invitation than anything else. You were close enough to feel his body heat against your thighs and through your shorts, though.

"You like to cook?" you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Ari took the invitation and ran with it, pressing his groin against your ass, hands on your hips. "I do when I get the time." His voice was deeper than it had been outside and he was obviously glad to be where he was, pressing hard and hot between your cheeks.

You braced your hands on the edge of the stove, eyes half-closing, your tongue automatically licking your lips. If he was as big as you thought he was… "Don't get the time often?" you asked, unable to keep from sounding anything except breathy.

His hands wandered up your sides and he pulled you back to stand straight, then further to lean back against his glorious chest. He was a wash of delicious heat from your shoulders to your thighs. You shuddered, basking in it as his scent enveloped you in bright citrus, orange blossoms, and that deep, musky note that made you feel like you'd had a little too much to drink, even though it was only 8 something in the morning and you'd only had coffee. "Not as often as I'd like," he murmured, right in your ear, proving that you didn't care what he said, you only cared about his voice, as goosebumps ran down your arms.

You gave an honest-to-God whimper and then pretended you hadn't. "Shame," you whispered, shivering.

"Would you like a tour of the upstairs?"

"Yes, yes, please, I would," you answered in a rush. You grabbed his hand and headed for the stairs, towing him behind you as he laughed, warm and deep. You led him up his own staircase, then stopped in the upper hallway, uncertain which room was the master.

He scooped you up into his arms bridal style like you weighed nothing, causing you to squeal in surprise and loop your arms around his neck. He laughed as he headed for the last door on the right. "This way, sweetness." You hid your face against his neck and grinned at the nickname.

He gave you a little toss onto the bed and you landed with a bounce, giggling as you pulled your top over your head. Ari tugged your shorts over your hips and down your legs, leaving you in your cute little sunshine yellow bikini. He raised his eyebrows at you and you shrugged, stretching into an arch, arms above your head. "We always end up at the beach."

The bikini was held on with strings that tied into cute little bows. "I can appreciate that," he murmured. "Let me get a condom."

You extended a leg to stop him with your foot on his hip. "I'm clean, tested last week for this vacation, and I'm on birth control."

He met your eyes, that beautiful blue gazing at you like you just saved the world. "I'm clean, too," he offered, voice a little rougher. "You sure, beautiful?"

You smiled at him, warmth spreading through your chest. "Yeah, I'm sure. Nobody's called me beautiful. I like that."

"Yeah?" He crawled into the bed, hovering over you, caging you in. "You must be with some stupid people because you are gorgeous." His fingers touched your hair, his eyes staring into yours with an intensity that made you squirm.

His fingers tugged at the bows that kept the bikini top on, pulling the yellow fabric away from your chest. His eyes flicked down to it and stayed there. Big, warm hands pushed you flat on your back before they cupped your tits reverently. He squeezed them a little, pushing them together, then looked back up at you. Keeping eye contact, he leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue swirled around it and you arched, breathing out on a sigh. He moved from breast to breast, sucking and licking your nipples, biting the soft flesh around them, too. A sharp little nip made you gasp and jerk and he licked the spot in apology, looking back up at you.

He crawled higher up your body to kiss you, hips getting between your thighs, one hand leaning his weight on the bed near your head. His kisses just confirmed the sex god status you'd suspected and you squirmed under him, just to feel all the places where his weight was leaning into you. He kissed away from your mouth, down to your jaw, then your throat. Exploration found that sweet spot you had just behind your jaw and below your ear. Shivers spilled down your spine as pathetic little needy sounds escaped your mouth and your hands came up to clasp at his back, fingers digging into his lats. He smiled against your skin before he sucked gently at the area again.

You lifted your hips with a little cry, trying to rub against him for friction. He made a pleased sound but started back down your body. His hands came to your hips to hold them still as he went back to worshiping your chest. Slow kisses moved further downward, over your tummy as he slipped off the bed to the floor. His hands got busy, tugging the strings to your bikini bottom until the bows unraveled and he could tug the scrap of fabric out from under you, tossing it aside.

Ari on his knees between your legs was a revelation. You couldn't help but stare as he kissed down along your hip, then across your pelvis. He reached up to push his hair back, one eye looking up at you. You sucked in a breath, getting wound tighter and tighter as he approached your pussy. He flashed you a smile as he pressed a sweet little kiss on your mound.

He hugged one thigh to him and pushed the other out to open you up. He kissed along the outer lips of your pussy, then nipped along the inside of your thighs, ratcheting the tension higher. When his tongue finally touched the slick valley between your thighs your head fell back against the bed with a little moan. He gave it a wet, open-mouthed kiss that let him explore from your opening upward, then settled on your clit.

He stared up at you, tongue lapping and swirling, flickering back and forth over the little bundle of nerves. He closed his lips over it and sucked and your head fell back again, arms above it in complete surrender. All the little noises he coaxed out of you got louder and more intense as he worked. Your hips jerked and he gripped them gently, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

He pulled back a bit and spit on your folds, fingers rubbing it against your clit and you squirmed, giving a strangled little sound. His hands pushed your thighs back and flat, going back to sucking and licking at you like it was his damn job.

Once he was sure you'd keep your legs open he reached up with one hand to slip his fingers into your mouth and you mimicked his rhythm around the tips with your tongue. When he took them back he played with a nipple, slick digits stroking feather-light before he pinched and rolled it between them and his thumb.

His other hand moved between your legs, a finger slipping inside you easily. He moved in and out, slowly at first, then faster, adding another and canting them up to catch your G spot. You couldn't help the sound that came out of your mouth then, hands slapping down on either side of your body to curl in the duvet. You kept lifting your head so you could watch, but then he'd send electricity shooting up your spine and it would fall back again.

He sped up, fingering you fast and hard enough to get your tits rocking a little. He licked and sucked at you like a fiend and you writhed under him as your orgasm crashed over you, loud little cries of his name spilling from your mouth like a melisma.

He eased up, then pulled back entirely, wiping his mouth and beard with his hand, both wet with your juices. Standing, he pushed his swim shorts down over his hips and lower. His dick sprang out and slapped his stomach and your mouth practically watered. Long and thick with a cut head that was wet with precum. He had no tan lines, all the same shade of golden bronze the sun had made him. You sat up happily and maneuvered onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. He put his hand on the back of your head as you took him into the warm cave of your mouth, just resting, not restraining you.

The weight of him on your tongue made you groan and you bobbed your head to take as much of him as was comfortable, hands coming up to stroke the rest of him and play with his balls at the same time. Precum leaked over your tongue and you swallowed while making a happy sound. He chuckled softly and pet your hair, curving his big hand over the contour of your head affectionately. "Yeah? Good?"

You looked up at him and deliberately made your eyes wide and innocent, watching it hit him like a blow to the head, his face going slack with lust and a deep groan coming from his chest. You managed a muffled, "Mm-hmm," and then really went to work. Each dip of your head took more and more of him in, little choking sounds escaping your lips as you got him to the edge of your throat. He gathered your hair into a ponytail, holding it for you without forcing your head down or changing your pace. Saliva overflowed your lips and you used it to slick the rest of his cock and even down to his balls. Every now and then, you'd pull back and spit on him, rubbing it along his length, until your hands on him almost felt as wet as your mouth.

You knew your limits and you took him there, just edging down into your actual esophagus with the tip and no further. The urge to choke tapped insistently at the back of your awareness, along with the contractions of your stomach muscles. Your gag reflex wasn't particularly sensitive but Ari was a little bit bigger than your experience allowed. You pulled back with a gasp, blinking tears from your vision that spilled down your cheeks.

"Shit, beautiful," Ari murmured and used his hold on you to drag you up into a kiss, heedless of the mess your face was at the moment. "Gotta stop that for now or this'll be over before I want it to be."

You laughed and wiped the drool off your face with the back of your arm. Ari used his thumbs to gently brush away your tears, smiling at you. "Wanna go for a ride?" When you nodded he climbed on the bed, then manhandled you on top of him, clearly enjoying the squeak that produced.

You sat up straighter and bore down on him as he sank inside you. He was thicker than anyone you'd ever taken and it burned a little in the best way possible. You braced your hands on his glorious chest and started rolling your hips in a sinuous undulation that shifted him back and forth inside you. You lifted up and went back down on every back sway, aiming for and finding the spot way up near your cervix that nobody ever seemed to hit.

He stared up at you the whole time, his hands wandering your body and occasionally gripping your hips but letting you be in charge. His cheeks were flushed and that just made his blue eyes that much brighter. You whimpered and mewled through it with zero concept of pride, not caring how pathetic and cockdrunk you sounded as long as that end shimmering in the distance found you.

The closer it got, the faster your hips went until you were writhing on top of him. He curled those big hands around the back and sides of your head, bringing you down to touch foreheads. It was the most intense eye contact you'd ever experienced period, let alone during sex. "You gonna come?" he asked, voice quiet.

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah? Gonna soak my dick, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh, yes, please, please…" You couldn't help begging, eyelids fluttering as your eyes rolled back in your head. The orgasm drew up high to tower over you before crashing down like a tsunami, leaving you to shout your way through it, hips losing all rhythm.

Ari cursed and grabbed them hard enough that you knew you'd have some marks the next day. The idea made you warm and squirmy inside. He held you still and planted his feet on the mattress, jackhammering up into you hard and fast.

You cried out as you felt another swell rising in the distance before your first orgasm had even finished. You closed your eyes against the bright blue of his, the potency of his gaze threatening to catapult you into that second climax too soon.

"Oh, my God!"

He watched you, laser-focused on every microexpression. You shook your head, not exactly sure what you were denying but Ari seemed to know, nodding in counterpoint. "Come on, honey, you can give me one more."

You whined and squeezed him tight in automatic reaction but shook your head again.

"Oh, I think you can," he practically purred. "Come on, gimme just one more, there's my sweet girl, cum for me."

You whimpered his name, eyelashes wet with tears as you shook apart on top of him, fluid gushing out of you in one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever experienced. He let out an actual growl and thrust up into you faster, losing his rhythm as he chased his end. He dragged you down and shoved up into you, holding you there as he came, staring up at you, mouth open as he panted.

You both hung in the moment, suspended in bliss before you collapsed down against his chest like a fallen tree. "Oh, my God," you repeated, face buried against his neck.

He laughed a little, breathless, and nodded in agreement, hands running up and down your back, warm and soothing. After long moments of afterglow, Ari asked, "How long is your vacation?"

"Three weeks," you murmured sleepily, fingers toying with a lock of his hair. It was just as silky as you'd imagined it to be and you made a mental note to check out what conditioner he used before you left.

"Hmm. Three weeks. That's a long time. Need company?"

You pushed yourself up to see his face, smiling slowly. "Why? You offering?"

He grinned up at you and it was like the sun shining, bright and happy. "I'm offering." He kissed your forehead. "Asking." The tip of your nose. "Begging." The corner of your mouth. You giggled and he squeezed around your middle in a hug.

You gave him a sweet, closed-mouth kiss, letting your eyes close as you lingered. "I think we could work something out. Wouldn't want you to be lonely."

He chuckled and drew you back down into a kiss that was much less chaste than the one before, settling in for a lazy makeout session. After all, the day was just getting started.

#hello neighbor #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #chris evans #my writing #the red sea diving resort

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my-maas-murdered-heart · 1 year

Text

The Valley Vet

Azriel x Veterinarian!Reader

Modern AU Fic

Part 2

Summary: A slow burn romance. The reader just moved to town and is starting a new job at a new veterinary clinic. Her little sister said there is a man there she’s going to love. Will that be the case?

Warnings: None for now.

Word Count: 1,144

Notes: This is a fic that is close to my heart for many reasons. I am hoping it will be a slow burn series.

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You grabbed the last box from your car to take into your new apartment. The heat in this town was sweltering and oppressive, making your skin feel singed. Blowing hair out of your eyes, you closed the trunk and went into the cool of the AC. The place was small, but cute with high ceilings, new carpet, and new appliances. The living room and kitchen were in one open space with the bar separating the two and one bedroom off to the side. It felt a bit dark with only one large window in the living room and one in the bedroom, but that was nothing cute lighting couldn’t fix. With a deep breath, you plopped onto the couch. Freyja, your large black brindle dog, hopped onto it next to you with a sigh.

“I know girl. It’s quite a change.” You had only moved down to this town because your mom had convinced you it was wonderful. She tempted you with the beach, sea turtles, and good Mexican food, but you couldn’t help but miss Austin, Texas. It just was getting too crowded and too expensive and your schedule was so hectic it was hard to ever come down to visit. So here you were in a small obscure town in south Texas, right next to Mexico and the Gulf. It would be nice to be close to your parents and younger sister and brother. If you were honest, it was really just for your siblings. Your parents were too chaotic and hopefully you could watch out for them a lot easier being close by. Your phone dinged, rousing you from your thoughts. It was from Holly, your new manager.

“Hello Y/N, would you like to swing by this afternoon? That way we can get you into the system and ready for tomorrow. Once you get here, come in through the side door and my office is right to the left. Ready to get you on board.”

This would be your second vet clinic after graduating vet school. You hadn’t really been sad to leave the first one in Austin. It was small, stuffy, and cramped. The head veterinarian had also been a bit of a bitch, though you loved all of the technicians and they had become your friends. The pay here wasn’t going to be much better, but they saw all animal types, not just dogs and cats. Your true passion in veterinary medicine was large animals like cattle and horses. Your sister, Annie, had actually been the one to hook you up with the job. The owner of the clinic, Dr. Gary Montague, had just fired a doctor and needed a new one pretty badly. Perfect timing. Annie thought Dr. Gary was pretty great. There was one other doctor too, Dr. Azriel Gonzalez. Annie swore up and down you’d like him. Just your type, dark hair, hazel eyes, and he liked to sing. She said his only downfall was that he was a drinker. You weren’t interested. Your last relationship had ended poorly; he was precious in every way but his alcoholism had gotten to be too much so you ended things. You did not want a repeat of that. All you had to do was resist his charms. How hard could it be?

“Great. I will be there in 15.” You sent the reply to Holly and grabbed your keys to head back into the sweltering August heat.

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15 minutes later you pulled into the parking lot of your new job, Valley Vet Clinic. It was a large cream colored tin building with green trim and a gravel parking lot. Next door on the same lot was a similar building that housed a feed store. You parked and got out of the car, thankful beyond words for tee shirts and jean shorts in this heat. You walked to the side door Holly had indicated and into the cool air.

It had blue walls with gray tin trimming the lower half. It smelled faintly of cleaner and various animals smells. You went right, into the office which was piled with clutter of various papers, vials, and tools. You knocked lightly on the door.

“Holly?” A curvy woman turned in her office chair. She had olive skin and dark hair in a pony tail.

“Dr. Y/N Hi! Give me just a minute to finish up this test form. If you want to go out back, Dr. Gary should be out there and he can introduce you to everyone.”

“Yeah sure sounds good.” You smiled.

“Just go down to the right and then a left to the back treatment area. He’s out there with some horses.”

You walked out back where she had directed. There was a tall roof over a large concrete area with some kennels and two horse stocks. Dr. Gary, a thicker set bald man was floating a horse’s teeth while another man held its head. He had an electric grinder to file down sharp points in the horse’s teeth. You waited until Dr. Gary was finished and turned the tool off, it was way too loud to have said much before hand. You cleared your throat and walked over.

“Dr. Gary?” His eyes lit with surprise.

“Dr. Y/n hello! So glad you’re here. Are you ready to work?” He wiped his hands off on a rag and set the tool into a bucket of water.

“Yes sir. Although I didn’t come dressed today, Holly asked me to come to get my pin for the computers and fill out my paperwork.” You chuckled. Hoping he wasn’t going to make you take patients in shorts and a tee, but if he was insistent you probably would so as not to make a bad impression. “I will be ready bright and early tomorrow though.”

“Good, good. Dr. Y/n, have you met Dr. Azriel?”

Your breath caught. Your sisters description had not done him justice. He wore jeans and a simple black T shirt that stretched across his chest and around his arms that read “The Valley Vet” on the left side. His dark hazel eyes appraised you and he gave a slight smirk, still holding on to the horses halter.

“Well, I’ll leave y’all to get acquainted. I’m going to go check on rooms. Azriel, you got this covered?” He nodded and with that Dr. Gary walked back inside.

You moved to pet the sorrel horse on the muzzle. It was still groggy from the sedative. Azriel stepped back and crossed his arms.

“So you’re Y/n. Your sister told me about you. She said I was either going to love you or hate you.” His voice was deep and cool.

You have a snort. “Well I guess we will just have to see now, won’t we.”

“I guess we shall.” And with that he gathered the bucket of water, syringes, and tooth drill and walked inside.

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--> Part 2. <--

#azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas #sjm fandom

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nekoannie-chan · 1 year

Text

Ruined anniversary

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Reader.

Word count: 610 words.

Summary: You have plans to celebrate your anniversary, but would change.

Warnings: Little angst.

A/N: This is my gift to @talia-rumlow. HAPPY BIRTHDAY FREYA!

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @mylifeispainandiloveit @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch

You felt Brock's hand caress your cheek as you took a nap after the mission. That mission had been one of the most exhausting, even though it didn't take many days.

Back on the ship, you decided to take some rest, but Brock had inadvertently woken you up.

“Is something wrong? “Brock asked you when he saw you looking thoughtful.

“I just remembered how we met," you answered.

“On the first mission after we left the Academy," he remembered, for the first time in his life he felt nervous, in fact, he wanted to ask you out since you were at the Academy, but he never dared, however the adrenaline he felt on that first mission pushed him to ask you.

“You almost shot me on that mission," you commented.

“I thought you were from the enemy team," Brock excused himself.

“If you wanted a kiss you should have asked me instead of pointing a gun at me," you teased.

“Oh, come on, well, maybe if I had asked you, our first date wouldn't have been ruined by the Chitauris. "

You snorted, everything was going so perfectly, you were about to kiss when one of the damn monsters walked past you, that's when you realized you had several messages where S.H.I.E.L.D. required your presence, but you had been ignoring your cell phones until you saw the monster.

Your anniversary would be next month, and you were planning to go to the beach that weekend, but maybe your plans were going to change for the next mission.

You were collecting all the information you could from the computer you found.

“T/N, status," Brock asked you over the intercom.

“Getting information from a computer in the south wing," you replied.

A few minutes later Brock was running to where you were, he had heard you arguing with someone, whose voice he didn't recognize, then some explosions and screams.

He wasn't going to lose you, he knew you usually didn't need to be rescued, but he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to you, let alone lose you.

When he got to where you were, he found you unconscious, the person who had attacked you was gone.

The next couple of days, Brock did not leave your side, he would stay with you, he did not want you to wake up and he was not there.

It was on the third day that you opened your eyes, and he immediately called the doctors. Everything was fine, but you had to stay a couple of days more in the hospital.

“I'm sorry, I don't think we will be able to go to the beach," you apologized, a little disappointed, you had let your guard down and that's why you had been attacked.

“The only thing that matters to me is that you are well, we’ll celebrate later. "

“Brock, tomorrow is our anniversary," you commented, he nodded. "Do you think they'll let me out tomorrow so we can celebrate? "

“I'd rather you follow the doctor's orders," Brock said sternly.

“Oh, come on, I bought some lingerie, especially for the occasion," you commented seductively.

“Well, we'll celebrate later, but that day I'll make you scream so much until your voice is gone and you might not be able to walk after what I'll do to you," he got up to go to the door, he would go to buy something to eat.

“Brock, hey, no, come here, I want us to celebrate right now. Brock, hey, don't ignore me!"

But he had already left the room, you snorted, the day you celebrated, you would get your revenge and enjoy it.

#Happy birthday Freya #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow x you #brock rumlow x y/n #brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow #brockrumlow #brock fanfic #mcu brock rumlow #mcu crossbones

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katarikitten · 12 days

Text

The head honcho is here! Chief makes his appearance! And a very different one compared to the Twins.

General Information/Equipment Information

Height: 6'5"

Rank: Captain

Specialties: Strategic planning, leading, and most oddly, piloting

Other Information:

The only Firehose variant able to speak verbally

He's got a slight English accent hiding under all the raspy airiness in his voice

He's a beach man, no mechanical bits and pieces are going to stop him from swimming

He has horrible dad jokes ready to share at any given moment

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Chief does not seem to use any combating equipment other than what the others hand to him, whether it be a fire ax or something else

He carries standard fire fighting equipment

Chief is not very verbal to newcomers at first and will speak in whatever language the Firehose variants speak in, but once he warms up to you then you'll hear him speak properly

Log 1, (11, 24, 1995):

"Alright. Is this thing on? Good."

There is a brief pause and someone can be heard taking a loud breath close to the recording device.

"This is... log one, which is something I'm going to start to keep track of [REDACTED]'s progress in his new body. Well, it's still his body, just some new additions and an entirely new head."

Another quick pause.

"I hate that they, we, had to do it to him. But it was for his own good, and for his team's good. Even if he's been telling us to just end him already, keeps saying that he had already died and that he had not intend to come back to keep helping, keeps saying that his time is already up and that he should be with his team now. But his team is dead, and they have been for a while. Except for two of them aside from him."

"The moment we brought up that two of his colleagues were okay he wanted to see them, see if what we were saying was true. The man can't even leave the bed on his own, can barely even sit up on his own on bay days. The fire really did a number on his body. Heck, it wasn't even the fire that did it directly!"

"He should be dead, we get that, and I'm probably going to keep repeating that frequently in these logs to keep reminding myself and whoever 's next in line to care for the cunt. But that's not what matters to some of the high ups, the high rank doctors and what not. No. What matters to them is that their procedure worked. They brought not one, but three, dead firefighters back from death and gave them new heads and then transferred nearly all of their memories and what not to a device that connected to their new heads before they were taken off anesthesia. And out of all the things to stick on a pipe and shove on their spine, they chose fire nozzles, fire hoses, whatever. These men aren't much of men anymore. At least not to me. Not in a dehumanizing way or anything but its weird walking in to check on [REDACTED] and I see a bronze fire nozzle looking right at me! Doesn't help that they have eyes either, creeps me out a bit when [REDACTED] stares too long."

A slow, almost saddened sigh comes from the person recording the audio.

"It's so hard to think about what they went through to even be here, they should be dead, letting their families and loved ones grieve them in open caskets, but they're not. Legally speaking, I think they've been announced dead, as well as seventeen other firefighters that lost their lives in the South Canyon Fire in July this year. But those other seventeen are truly dead, had their funerals and everything. These three had a closed casket funeral and their empty caskets were set in the ground alongside all the others, graves marked and everything."

"I don't think my mind is ever going to let go of how messed up and unethical it is. They worked on a man's dead corpse without his family's consent to anything. And this man was a firefighter! Working his ass off to protect us! And the head honchos let these things blow right over their heads!"

The person recording the audio can be heard standing up from what is presumably a chair before the sound of heels pacing can be heard in the background. This goes on for nearly a minute before the person reapproaches the recording device and seats themself again.

"They keep saying that they want to make a new generation of protectors. Robotic humans that can do better than we can, cyborgs at most. Robots that will fight our wars for us and heal our people for us, do all the things we can for us, better than us. And unfortunately, these three men were the unlucky souls that were first pick."

There is a pause that lasts approximately half a minute before the person continues.

"I think I'm going to end it here, I feel like I've just been rambling when this was supposed to be informational. This is Doctor Lorelai, ending the first log on the new program."

- End of log

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Sidenote: I was definitely inspired by Polaroid and his backstory (belongs to striderl, oops I'm too much of a wuss to actually ping them) by the end of coming up with/drawing Chief. He was just supposed to be an older Firehose variant with some slightly depressing backstory but I just took a darker, sadder turn on Chief's end once I had a few angsty moments to myself. (asks questions if you dare *steeples fingers* /j) (seriously tho, I am more than willing to spew lore if someone asks the right question)

#skibidi oc #skibidi toilet #Firehose Faction

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lordy-lou · 11 months

Text

blood-knots in space-time (e, part 1 of 3)

Rose is leaning forward, back saddling and elbows propped on the railing of the suite’s balcony, when he finds her. It’s an unfamiliar posture from her, really: he’d kept an extensive catalogue of her various perches and poses used to match her moods and needs and wants, to anticipate what she might do without facing the horrible, eternal temptation to peek into her timeline. She’d round her shoulders forward when insecure, thrust her chest up to show bravado, kept her elbows tight to her sides to betray the falseness of that bravado. Let herself slouch when comfortable, but that meant a comfort in showing her emotions and varied in interpretation depending on her lovely, expressive face.

Slouching with a smile or flat expression was ease; slouching with anything else was typically negative; but here, again, her face would always tell the last part of the story, big brown eyes and fetching overbite and full lips and high, stubborn chin. She would tense one leg after the other and shift her weight at most times unless she was frightened, when she’d be deathly still for a moment before kicking herself into action. She was almost always in motion, his girl—no, woman, and not his, no matter what he’d said (and what he’d said) on that beach, no matter the determined press of lips against his own.

The Doctor knows better than most that a kiss is not a contract. In this case, however, he allows himself to hope.

But—Rose is leaning forward and her elbows are propped on the railing of the suite’s balcony, and from the smell of it, she’s smoking. He closes the door behind him and coughs, slightly. Menthols. She doesn’t turn back to look at him. She hears him—her shoulders rise minutely towards her ears at the sound of the sliding door—but he can’t see her face.

Better fix that, then. He steps forward to the balcony, and props his forearms on the railing, self-same mirroring like’d he done when she’d been nervous and interrogating him so long ago, when he’d cracked jokes about the deep South and she’d prodded him in the still-bleeding wound that was Gallifrey. A postural technique to engender familiarity and comfort, to see the self in another even if unconsciously so.

He looks over, and stars, she’s beautiful in profile. Even like this, a half-ashed cigarette dripping from her mouth like the poison it is, her jaw wreathed in smoke and her eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion (and anger and grief, maybe, and he’s certain it’s both his and his fault)—his single heart thuds with an onrush of endorphins and hormones, flooding his system in a new and almost frightening manner.

Time was, he’d be able to control this. Now? A man alone, with his speech and his body language and his disastrously clever mind. Time (ever-passing, that specious present lingering and speeding along out of his control like a failing transmission engine) to start.