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#Automatic Tube Light
aumos · 2 years
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By now, we are sure you have understood the mechanism and especially the advantages of motion sensor lights and energy-efficient LED tube lights. To all first-time readers, we recommend checking out our previous blogs on this topic and especially to get a great understanding of the benefits of motion sensor lights by AUMOS.
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spacetownhigh · 1 year
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mixing/mastering note: i always read about tube compressors, tube eq, etc. it makes the music sound ‘warmer’, it ‘glues the mix together’, etc. while true, it accentuates the mid range. in a noticeable way. maybe ‘warmer’, maybe more ‘glued together’, but with a boosted midrange and less emphasis on highs and lows (imo not the best approach for ambient, but maybe a good approach for some genres). the lesson i’d learned is use a tube compressor as a ‘compressor that accentuates midrange’, same for eq etc. - just understand it as an eq that’s more midrange-y. a more mid-y compressor. etc. 
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other
Thanks for requesting!
cw: hospital, mention of surgery
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words
Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 
It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 
“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 
“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 
“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 
“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.
She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 
“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 
You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”
You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 
Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 
“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 
Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 
Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 
“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 
“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 
“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 
“I am,” he says. 
“But you’re so handsome.”
Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 
You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 
Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 
Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 
You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 
“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 
“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 
“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 
“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 
Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 
“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”
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dyns33 · 5 months
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Only wastelands
I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more
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People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.
After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.
Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.
There was no reason for this to happen anyway.
China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.
That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.
Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.
First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.
Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.
It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.
Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.
Everything happened very quickly after that.
Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.
"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."
They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.
No one could have known that they were not safe at all.
When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.
Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.
Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.
For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.
Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.
Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.
The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.
On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.
With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.
But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.
“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.
"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"
"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."
“You fucking ghoul !”
Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.
He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.
It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.
As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.
"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"
"… Sorry."
"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."
At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.
But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".
"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"
"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."
The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.
The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.
"Please… Don't leave me here…"
"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."
“They don’t like cowboys ?”
The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.
Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.
"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”
“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.
He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.
But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.
So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.
After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.
“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”
“No thanks, never was a fan.”
"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"
“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”
Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.
He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.
As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.
She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.
It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.
“You should have five more vials.”
“Sugar, leave it.”
"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”
"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."
“But Coop…”
“Y/N, sleep.”
In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.
This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.
He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.
And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.
"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."
"… All right."
Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.
Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.
Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.
It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.
Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.
So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.
But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.
Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.
“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”
"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”
She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.
Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.
With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.
Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.
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listentoace · 3 months
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The Cell
Listen here [08:23 NSFW]
You have been kidnapped and wake up in a small cell, maybe 12m²/130f². You see a few cameras on the ceiling, a toilet and shower in the corner, and a thick metal door locking you inside. But one thing stands out, which is a chair in front of a wall of 25 screens with a tube dangling from the ceiling above. You shift a little on your bed, noticing that you're fully naked and that your ankle is chained to the room center. You hear a loud "clank" sound and see the handle of the door moving. A tall man enters your dark cell, you can't fully see his face, but his wide grin sends shivers down your spine. "Hello there, little one.", he says as he walks up to you. Your heart is racing and you begin to sweat. "Let's get you in place, shall we?", he says, grabs you by your collar and drags you to the chair, the chain rattles and scratches over the concrete floor. As he sits you down, he immediately fastens your wrists and legs to the chair, making it impossible for you to move. You feel a nudge with knobs pushing against your pussy.
You notice another display, right above the 5x5 screen wall, which lights up and reads 163lbs. "Already a bit chubby, huh? Well, you'll soon be in heaven.", he says and pats your belly, causing the number on the display to jump around a little before it settles down at 163lbs again. His wide and warm hands glide over your body, pinching a few folds and rolls, before he pulls out his phone. Shortly after, you hear a humming noise and the tube lowers from the ceiling. He grabs it, straps it around your head and forces the tube into your mouth. The fit is tight enough that you won't be able to spill, yet not uncomfortable. The thick tube dangles in front of your face, blocking a little of your vision. Next, all the screens light up, shortly after displaying 25 different loops of captioned porn, with text reading from "good girls obey" to "your weight = your value", and even just single-word loops like "drink, drink, drink, ...". As you see this, your heart begins to race immediately, fearing the worst.
"You'll be sitting here for 14 hours a day from now on. You get a 5-minute break every hour to go to the bathroom. You'll be filmed and live streamed at all times, so feel free to say hi to the viewers.", he explains. There is a camera right in front of you, slightly below in front of you, one above you, one at a 45° angle, one at a 90° angle, and more in the cell's corners. You're already struggling to pay attention with all the porn in front of you. "You'll be unlocked automatically and a timer will appear on the ceiling display where you can currently see your weight. If you don't sit back down in time, the collar will start shocking you, just so you're warned.", he continues. You can feel your heart rate rise, it hasn't been this high in weeks, if not months. The porn you're forced to watch doesn't help and only makes your heart beat faster. "Good Girls get fat".
"You feel that nudge?", he asks and looks at you with a sinister grin. You nod, feeling the nudge against your pussy, which is already soaked. It stats to vibrate slowly, which you didn't see coming. It sends shivers down your spine and you already notice how your mind is starting to become blank. Your eyes constantly jump around between the screens, looking at cocks thrusting into pussies, cum shots, bouncing tits, jiggling asses, all at the same time on 25 screens. You're overwhelmed and don't know where to look. Everywhere are captions, heavily triggering you and making your pussy throb even more. "Well then, I guess you'll figure the rest out soon enough...", he finishes, gives your belly another pat, gropes your tits, and then just leaves the cell. Him leaving makes you panic slightly, but then the speakers turn on, playing some hypno track of fucking sounds, moaning, and several voices telling you to drink, give in, goon, get fatter, indulge, surrender, obey, serve, fatten, throb, grind, grow. You struggle not to lose the last bit of your mind, as you're bombarded by porn, captions, and the hypno audio track.
You hear a "ding" sound, and shortly after, a sweet, creamy liquid flows into your mouth. The second the sugar hits your tongue, the vibrator fires up, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Drink, drink, drink, drink, ..." pops up everywhere on the screens, conveniently censoring all the cocks, pussies, tits, and butts. The hypno track tells you in echoing voices that "good girls drink up", "it tastes soooo good", and "every gulp makes you even wetter". You hate how good the shake tastes, actually offering a full, sweet flavor that makes you want to just keep drinking. Before you know it, you've downed your first liter, the ceiling display reads 165lbs. The shake stops and the vibrator slows down again. Little do you know that people online can spend their money to both turn on your vibrator or to force more calories down your throat.
Before you know it, half an hour has gone by. Your pussy drips, your thighs are sticky and the sweat is running down your skin. Your mind is completely empty now, your eyes jump between the many screens of porn, frustrated that 9/10 times the intimate areas are censored by captions but every time they're not, you feel a rush, as you see a pair of tits bouncing up and down while she's being fucked. You never know when the next "ding" comes, but as soon as it does, you feel immense pleasure and always get very close to cumming. Unfortunately, you can't manage to get over the edge, but that might be by design. Another half hour later, the porn pauses. At first you don't get why, but it seems to be your break. The metal restraints open, freeing your ankles and wrists. You look up to the ceiling display, which reads 168lbs.
The first thing you do once your hands are free is rubbing your pussy. You just need to cum, after being stimulated like this for an hour. But the second you touch your pussy, your collar gives you a mild shock. "No touching", echoes from the speakers. You try getting up from the chair to go to the toilet, your legs are shaky and weak. You can barely walk, but luckily there is a railing mounted to the wall to help you get there. This will especially come in handy once you're a couple hundred pounds heavier. After finishing, you see the timer ticking, "02:13", "02:12", "02:11", so you waddle back to the chair and sit down again, the restraints automatically fasten. This will be your life from now on.
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Thank you very much for reading! Depending on how you like this, I might turn it into a much longer, full story, which I'll also be reading/recording audios for. To ensure my efforts are worth it, please write a comment or dm about whether or not you want more of this. Thank you very much!
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fikefries · 4 months
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wheels of fate (m.s) part one
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part one: shadows in the dark
warnings: implied almost assault, swearing, mentions of alcohol
summary: when you find yourself in the face of danger, an unexpected character comes to your rescue.
1.1k words
you sit on your dorm bed, staring blankly at the incomplete essay on the laptop in front of you. today was not your day. partying the day before your thesis was due was not the best idea. the words blur together as your mind wanders, boredom gnawing at you, and an immense craving for salt-and-vinegar chips bubbling in your stomach. you look across your room to your tiny electric clock sitting on your desk, its blue hue slightly lighting up the darkness of your dorm.
1:37 AM,
you sigh, shutting your laptop with a small thud, rubbing your tired eyes, and pull yourself out of bed. you left out a soft groan at the state of your room, mini skirts, tube tops, and empty bottles of tequila sprawled out on the floor. the room feels stifling, and your hunger is rising. you need to get out, even if just for a little while.
grabbing your phone and hoodie, you decide to make a quick trip to the 24/7 convenience store down the street. it isn’t far, and the walk will do you good. you slip out of your dorm quietly, tip-toeing down the hall—not wanting to wake your roommates.
the cool night air is a nice change as you walk through the campus gates and onto the empty night streets. the city has a different feel at night—quieter and more solemn. you stuff your hands into your jacket pockets, trying to shake off the unease that creeps up your spine. you know that walking down a dark street in the middle of the night isn’t the safest thing to do for a girl like you—but hey, what are the odds something happens the one night you decide to go out?
as you reach the convenience store, you notice a small group of tall men huddled around the energy drink section. they are dressed in black t-shirts, black jackets, and have on fingerless gloves. you realise that most of them are holding motorcycle helmets, automatically assuming they are night bikers. the area you live in is notoriously famous for its biking culture—one that results in many police chases and gunshots. knowing this, you keep a safe distance away from the group of men, but one seems to catch your attention. a boy who looks around your age is holding a motorcycle helmet and has multiple piercings adorning his ear. you can’t help but stare at his sharp features and siren eyes, the way he looks with his jaw clenched, a toothpick resting in his mouth as he stands patiently, waiting for the rest of the guys to sort out their choice of drink. you don’t even realize you are staring so intensely until he starts looking around the small store, before his eyes catch yours.
shit.
you quickly avert your gaze and pretend to inspect the different flavors of chips. your embarrassment doesn’t falter, as you feel his sharp gaze burning into the back of your head. you turn to quickly grab a few snacks and head to the counter.
"just these, please," you say, trying to act normal and confident, not wanting to garner more attention from the possibly dangerous bikers.
the cashier barely glances at you, engrossed in his phone.
“have a good night,” he mumbles as you pay and leave the store.
you begin your walk back to your dorm, nervously munching on a bag of chips you bought. you decide to take a different route, hoping to enjoy the quiet streets a bit longer, distracting yourself from the awkward encounter you just had. your thoughts wander, and you find yourself lost in your own world, not noticing the ominous figure that has started following you.
“hey you,” a gruff voice breaks through your thoughts, making you jump in fear. you turn to see an old, ragged man approaching you, his eyes gleaming with something sinister, a creepy smile etched onto his face, revealing his crooked teeth. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here alone, hm?”
your heart races, and you quicken your pace, turning around occasionally to see if you lost him, but the man keeps following you, his grunts growing louder as he catches up to you. you begin randomly taking different paths and alleyways in hope of losing the man. you've heard stories of what has happened to other girls on campus before and you know how dangerous the situation you are in is.
god, i should've just stayed home.
you glance around at your surroundings, slowing down your pace, realizing you have run into a more isolated and unknown part of town, and are now at a dead end, with nowhere to run to as the creepy man catches up and starts walking towards you.
“leave me alone,” you manage to shout, your voice trembling in utter fear and desperation.
“come on, don’t be like that,” the man sneers with a wicked smile, closing the distance between you.
before he is able to touch you, the sudden loud roar of a motorcycle engine echoes down the street, zooming towards your direction. the old man halts his actions, his expression shifting from predatory to wary and he slightly backs away from you. a sleek black bike skids to a halt in front of you, and the rider jumps off with an air of cold confidence.
the rider removes his helmet, revealing the boy from the convenience store with sharp features and piercing eyes that seem to see right through you, his hair messy from being underneath the helmet.
how is he here? did he follow me? did he hear me screaming?
he barely glances at you before fixing his gaze on the old man.
“get lost,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, his blue eyes glaring coldly at the man.
the old man hesitates, clearly intimidated by the biker’s presence. “hey, boy, i don’t want any trouble,” he mutters, fully backing away from you, as you let out a sigh of relief.
“you already found it. leave before you actually fucking piss me off,” the biker replies, his tone cold and unwavering.
the old, creepy man shoots one last menacing glare at you before turning and disappearing into the night, knowing not to mess with a night biker—especially in this part of town. the biker turns to you, his expression unreadable.
“you okay?” he asks, his voice and eyes still stoic and devoid of warmth.
you nod, swallowing hard. “yeah, thanks. i—”
“be careful” he interrupts, already turning back to his bike.
“wait” you nervously call out, hesitantly taking a step forward. “what’s your name—i mean thanks for saving me, i don’t—” you stutter.
he pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “matt,” he says simply, putting his helmet back on and revving the engine of his bike before heading off into the night.
tags: @isasturns @sofieeeeex @scqrletsmadness
a/n: im thinking this will be a 10 or more part series! let me know if you have any ideas!
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causewayguy · 7 months
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Fuck, Chor 3 already sinned. On Day 3 of the lunar new year, Jon's family hosted a family gathering at their new house. Tables were set up in the yard where it was sheltered but still breezy. The best part is that Jon gets to see all his pretty xmm cousins/SO who came late to the party. That's where he laid his eyes on Xiao Wen.
Xiao Wen was Jon's nerdy cousin's (Z's) new girlfriend. Looked slightly out of place since it was her first time visiting the extended fam, Xiao Wen is not those drop dead gorgeous but looked a bit nerdy and reserved. But to Jon, she had just the right amount of baby fats here and there, and her white tube top and black shorts accentuated her curves.
Lunch went on as normal, chit chats and laughters. And finally, they started gambling. Coming from SG, Jon had to be the 'house' and started dealing cards, with both Z and Xiao Wen joining the fray. Jon would purposely deal Xiao Wen cards slightly further front from her so she needed to bend down, showing some of her creamy cleavage. Sometimes when she wins, Xiao Wen gets all hyper, showing all kinds of skin, much to Jon's delight. Lucky didn't kena caught as Z is known to be a blur sotong (nerd mah).
After an hour or so, Xiao Wen had lost almost RM100. Can feel she was seriously down in the dumps and trying to get Z's attention to maybe stop and do other things. Z, being sotong no.1 and an avid gambler, not only brushed her off but decided to be the next 'house' as his luck was pretty good.
Stars aligned and 5 minutes later, both Jon and Xiao Wen were on the couch talking while Z just started his Stephen Chow's God of Gambler concentration. Turns out this was their second date and Z just dragged Xiao Wen here without telling her the occasion. This is what you call blur sotong...
Jon half bragged, half shared how it is in SG and Xiao Wen was totally hooked as she herself wanted to further studies in SG. She was sitting so close to Jon with her legs touching as they looked at photos on Jon's phone. Pushing his luck further, he mentioned he got more pics during his NUS days in his laptop, and invited her up to his room. Xiao Wen quickly nodded her head without a second thought (another blur sotong...) about Z or the situation she's in. As they went up, no one saw except for Jon's helper, Maria, who just winked at Jon.
Up in his room, Jon quietly locked his door after Xiao Wen entered. She was sitting on his bed ohh and ahhing at Jon's photos on his laptop, firing all kinds of questions about the places in the photos. The photos were becoming more naughty as Jon pulled up his clubbing and drinking photos intentionally. Xiao Wen was still asking questions.
Next photo. 'Eh how come so dark this picture?'
'Oh this is Zouk night club. I usually go drinking here.'
Next photo. 'It looks so fun dancing wei!'
'Ya lo, this one you need to try. After high, just dancing and grind with anyone we see.'
Next photo. 'Wasehh your gf so pretty! But PDA le, kiss in front of camera.'
'No la, this is my best friend's gf. He was vomiting in the toilet, so weak haha.'
At this time, Xiao Wen finally noticed the weird tension in the air but said nothing.
Next photo. 'Ha ha...not bad la, you still send them both back to their room first.'
'We stay in the same house. That was my friend's room, and this is mine.'
Next few photos showed my friend's gf being all slutty and provocative poses in all areas of my room. Finally, the last photo was of her on my bed, biting her lips and pulling my hand, looking straight into the camera.
'Oh...hmm...I see...'
'Last time was my friend's gf, today is my cousin's gf...'
Jon stood up beside her, looking down at Xiao Wen and slowly traced his finger along her face. As he reached her lips, Xiao Wen automatically sucked on Jon's index finger, essentially giving him the green light. Jon immediately slid his other hand down Xiao Wen's blouse, giving her boobs a quick squeeze and started to tune her nipples.
'Hmmmpp...please...show me what happened next...'
Xiao Wen bit her lips and made the same pose as the photo. This made Jon's blood boil and he quickly pushed Xiao Wen onto his bed, pulling off her top down. Her boobs were heavenly, with some bounce as Jon quickly removed her nipple stickers and sucked on her nips. This was Xiao Wen's second sexual experience but it was so much better. Looking at the pictures made her a little horny while Jon licked at her sensitive nipples and slid his hand into her shorts and fingered her pussy. Xiao Wen moaned and squirmed with pleasure as Jon continued his duel attack.
Up until her breaking point, Jon stopped abruptly and quickly dropped his pants. Xiao Wen stared at the piece of meat she knows she shouldn't accept but her body betrayed her. Xiao Wen pulled both her shorts and panties aside while holding her legs up, giving Jon the full access and he gladly complied.
Jon rammed his cock into Xiao Wen, getting a shriek from her. Knowing time is limited, Jon did not hold back and drilled Xiao Wen hard and deep. Xiao Wen was still inexperienced so this blew her mind. As Jon continued plowing into her, he whispered all sweet nonsense to her 'your pussy so tight baby, my cock is made for you, you are so much better than my gf, you milking me so good, I am fucking you like I fuck her (friend gf), please can I cum in you'. This made her felt both physically and emotionally attached to Jon, and could only nod her head furiously at Jon's last question.
Finally, looking at his cousin's gf asking for a creampie, Jon couldn't hold back any longer. He blew his load into Xiao Wen, filling her almost virgin pussy almost completely. Xiao Wen could only groan in satisfaction as the warmth feeling spread all over her insides.
Suddenly without warning, someone knocked on the door and whispered 'coming'. Jon quickly pulled his pants up and correctly Xiao Wen top before rushing to unlock the door. Just as he stepped out, Z was climbing the stairs and asked if Jon saw Xiao Wen. Right in cue, Xiao Wen walked out.
'Thanks for the info, Jon. At least now I know SG better.'
She took Z hands and started to walk back down the stairs together. But not before biting her lips and winking at Jon behind Z's back. Need to teach that fucking slut another lesson...
**************************
To the bro who asked for submission, sorry I took too long. If you still want a cny theme one, dm me again.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
This 1958 Chevrolet Corvette underwent a pro-street-style metamorphosis between 2008 and 2011. It is endowed with a 383 cubic inch stroker V8 engine, harmonized with a TH350 three-speed automatic transmission, and a narrowed rear axle featuring a limited-slip differential. The rear suspension has been upgraded with a ladder-bar configuration, adjustable coilovers, and the addition of a lift-off hood. The body, painted a striking red with white coves, comes with a detachable hardtop. Inside, a roll cage has been installed along with a B&M Pro Stick shifter, a shift light, aftermarket gauges, and black Procar bucket seats. The enhancements also include dual Edelbrock carburetors, Hooker headers, side-exit exhaust pipes, 15” alloy wheels, and front disc brakes. Acquired by the current dealer in February 2024, this modified C1 Corvette is now part of the Coffee Walk Corvette Collection in Wylie, Texas, and is offered without reserve, complete with build records and a clean Pennsylvania title.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
The fiberglass exterior is adorned in red with white coves and includes a removable hardtop and a lift-off hood with an integrated air scoop. A Stewart-Warner fuel-pressure gauge is mounted on the cowl, and the right-rear corner features a battery cutoff switch and external terminals. The gallery reveals cracks in the weatherstripping, pitted chrome, and paint imperfections.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
Polished 15” alloy wheels are shod with 25.0×5.0” front and 29.5×11.5” rear Hoosier drag tires, installed in April 2024. A crossmember supports the rear suspension, which has been modified with ladder bars, a diagonal link, and adjustable coilovers. The braking system includes front disc brakes and rear drums.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
The interior is equipped with a roll cage and Procar high-back bucket seats in black. Enhancements include a B&M Pro Stick shifter, an MSD shift light, rocker-switch controls, and fabricated metal door panels. The gallery displays flaking paint and wear on interior surfaces.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
The three-spoke steering wheel is positioned in front of a 160-mph speedometer and auxiliary gauges. An AutoMeter pedestal tachometer is mounted atop the non-functional factory tachometer. Additional gauges for coolant temperature and oil pressure are located in the center console. The mechanical odometer is inoperative, and the total mileage remains unknown.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
A Harwood plastic fuel cell is mounted in the trunk, which has been tubbed with fabricated aluminum panels to accommodate the rear wheels.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
The 350ci V8 engine block, bored and stroked to 383ci, features four-bolt main bearings. The build includes forged pistons, ARP fasteners, a polished Edelbrock intake manifold, dual Edelbrock carburetors, an MSD ignition module, and Hooker long-tube headers that flow into side-exit exhaust pipes.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
Power is transmitted to the rear wheels through a TH350 three-speed automatic transmission and a narrowed Dana 60 rear axle with a limited-slip differential.
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1958 Chevrolet Corvette
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tadpolesonalgae · 10 months
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Mer!azriel x reader: The Dregs of Tragedy - Part 3
A/N: Finished writing this and now I want to do another part to please… because soft touches make me melt
Warnings: mentions of torture
Word Count: 6,561
-Part 2- -Part 4-
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You don’t know how long you’d spent like that—just floating gently in his arms, allowing the water to soothe the ache of your bones.
It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, the sea lapping at the lip of the cave, his tail occasionally brushing your legs, as if checking your pulse, monitoring small changes as they occur. Like the narrow slits forming along your ribs, gills beginning to push from your skin.
Scarified hands graze your sides, skin fluttering with tiny muscles reacting to the stimuli. Air bubbles in your lungs, and you cough suddenly, throat constricting. Your fingers raise to your neck, spluttering as the muscle spasms with the new airways opening, not entirely sure how to process the evolution.
“Close your mouth,” he instructs, palm splaying across your back, keeping you steady and the gills unblocked. “Don’t breathe through your nose. Try to open the airways.” You do as he says, features scrunching as tears prick the the edge of your lashes. You follow his directions, but struggle upon feeling the burning need for breath, instinctively parting you lips.
Azriel shifts, raising his hand to place it over your mouth, fingers parted enough to let air through if you try, but not enough to properly survive on. Still, some problems arise. The tubes are sensitive and tingling with awareness, making you squirm at the odd sensation. Your nose scrunches with concentration, managing a few shuddering breaths before reverting to your preferred option.
“I’m going to take you under,” he says, hand still blocking your mouth and nose. Your eyes pop open, gleaming from the tingling sensation as you peer up at him, trying to shake your head. “It’ll help,” he says quietly, “just focus on your gills.” Your brows pull together as you try to convey the mix of doubt and fear, concern shimmering in steadily darkening eyes.
But the sea level rises as he brings you below the surface, water raising your hair from your shoulders, swaying freely, tickling your cheeks. Lids automatically slide shut, blocking out the sea salt, lips sealing shut as water presses in, and then you’re entirely cut off. His hand pulls away from your mouth, instead dragging his fingers firmly around the soft, split skin, encouraging them to dilate like his. After a few rotations they stutter to life, parting to allow water inside, capillaries picking out the oxygen that’s dissolved in the sea.
Breath eases through your body, filtering in and out as you adapt to the strange sensation. The odd tingle of sensitivity, awareness tightening and prickling at your skin, suddenly taking on waves of new information—the temperature, the weight, the direction of the weak current. Your nose remains scrunched as you concentrate on breathing, taking it slow until it’s less foreign. Until it begins to feel natural, and fade into the background mechanics of your body.
Rough skin gently thumbs across your lids, and a strange prickling sensation takes over behind your eyes, a new filmy layer manifesting, allowing you to peer beneath the briny sea water. Slowly, your eyes open, cracking apart, testing out the new development. Blinding light filters in, and you immediately squeeze them shut again, kicking your legs to tell him to go up. Dutifully, Azriel swims to the surface, and you splutter, body confused with the switch in airways.
You take a minute to shift back to manual breathing, inhaling deeply while he holds you patiently. Lungs ache a little from conscious use, but the ticklish sensation has dulled in your ribs, as if gills have always been set in your skin. Your throat rolls as you swallow, blinking heavily to get the film to retract.
“What else is going to happen?” You manage to ask, pushing strands of hair from your face. “Your legs will seal together to form a tail. That will likely be the most difficult part,” he rasps in answer, hands still splayed across your waist. Eyes flick to charcoal black, nerves wriggling in your stomach. “You said it would have been easier at the quarters in the moon’s cycle,” you recall, peering at him. “Why is that?”
“I told you the new moon is when we’re at our weakest,” —you nod— “and the full moon is when we’re at our strongest,” —nod again— “so the stages between those are when a transition would be most painless. When the time between a new moon and a full moon are equidistant.”
“How painful will it be?” You ask quietly, still feeling the faintest throb pulsing within your ankles and knees. The mer is quiet for a spell, the only sounds in the large cave the swishing of water against the rock’s edge. “It will likely last a night,” he says at last. “The more disproportioned the gaps are in the moon’s cycle, the longer it will take.” Dread ices across your skin, cold fingertips pressing into his warm skin. “A night?” You repeat breathlessly. “Six— Eight hours?” The words tremble from your mouth.
Azriel’s lips press together before he answers, but the expression alone has tension tightening in your belly. “Most likely ten,” he says softly, “until the sunrises.”
“Until the sun rises,” you echo absently, staring into onyx eyes. “You couldn’t have timed it better?” You ask quietly, but your tone is sharp. His gaze narrows, and you’re briefly reminded of the shredding teeth in his soft mouth. “There wasn’t time to waste. I needed to take you then or you would have been taken back to your town, and would’ve had worse to deal with than this.”
Your brow narrows, but you don’t deny what he’s claimed. “Anyone would take rain over thunder,” you mutter instead. He raises a brow, peering at you with those large onyx eyes of his. “Anyone?” The edges of your mouth twist down into a scowl.
“It’s an expression. Rain makes a deck slippery but at least there’s little chance of being thrown over board and left to your kind.” The pads of his fingers press a little firmer into your skin, such a slight difference in pressure you wonder if he’s even aware of it. “Our kind,” he corrects, equally softly. “And we don’t sink to torture when it comes to humans.”
“So you give them air and return them to shore?” You ask pointedly, aware of how the acoustics of the cave make your voice swell. “Such a pretty diversion,” he murmurs, large, dark eyes glinting. “We kill them once they enter our territory. We torment the ones wearing our scales.”
Something sharp glitters in his charcoal gaze, and a shiver trembles its way down your spine. “We turn to the sea because it’s our only source of food. We would starve if we didn’t go into your territory,” you say quietly, “is it really so difficult to let us survive?”
“Humans chose to settle there. They knew well that we inhabited these waters but thought they could purge us,” he returns, tail brushing against your aching legs. “We weren’t the ones to start the perpetual cycle of violence, it was the humans who did so.”
“Of course a mer would say that,” you shoot back, watching him warily.
He blinks carefully, allowing the transparent film to slide across his black eyes, as if knowing how it makes your insides squirm. Slowly, he drags you closer, grip like iron as the lithe muscle of his abdomen and tail comes to press to the soft curve of your stomach. “I was fully grown while your town was a simple gathering of huts,” he rasps lowly, features remaining neutral, if a little amused. “Forgive me if I take my own memories over the distorted tales of humans.”
Lips part in a surprised exhale, shoulders subconsciously curving inward to keep your breasts from brushing his powerful torso. “You—…you were alive back then?” But you shake your head, “the town was built by my ancestor’s ancestors—generations ago. You can’t possibly have been alive so long back…” But the doubt is clear in your voice, despite trying to argue against him.
Azriel releases you gently, and you tense in surprise as he swims away, dipping beneath the surface then reappearing a little way from you. Muscle tenses before clicking into habit, recalling the lessons on how to tread water. Pressing your fingertips together as you slowly but firmly rotate your limbs to keep afloat. The corners of his mouth are quirked upward, grinning faintly as you struggle in his home terrain. “Generations of humans amounts to no more than two centuries, at most. They live such short lives, and often rush into choices that end them up in heaps of trouble,” he says, circling you leisurely, powerful tail swishing as he’s idly propelled through the sea. “For instance, this conflict between our kinds. It’s one they won’t win.”
“You’re acting as if you’ve never lost one of your own to us,” you reply quietly. “I’ve seen the mer they capture, what they do to them. We might sustain losses, but you do to.” His expression darkens—something in the blackness of his eyes—despite the edges of his mouth remaining soft. “Is that something you’re proud of?” He asks quietly, water lapping at the rock as he completes a rotation of the pool, pausing in his place.
“Proud of what,” you question, the aches becoming more prominent at the base of your spine. He swims a little closer, and you subconsciously push back in the water, drifting away. “Proud of humanities’ brutality. Proud of their barbed hooks and burning fire. Proud of the scales they pry from our tails,” he rasps, moving forward with every spot of distance you try to put between you. “I—… I’m not proud of it,” you manage, a little intimidated by the unwavering confidence rolling off him as he encroaches further. “I just meant that we aren’t weak. And the sailors wouldn’t hate the mer if you didn’t eat their shipmates.”
He swims closer, and you flinch as the hewn rock presses into your spine, littered with tiny, jagged shells. You swallow as he gently cages you in, pinning you to the rock’s edge with his lower torso, long tail swishing idly far below. “Do you know how painful it is?” He rasps lowly. “To have them peeled back from your skin? Slowly, one by one?” Your pulse begins to spike, hands reluctantly pressing on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat.
“I don’t…I didn’t know they did that…” you say quietly, trying not to squirm with the sharp edges of the barnacles prickling your back. The corners of his mouth soften further, and he appears to be smiling faintly. “What was his name? Alaric?” He rasps soothingly, your skin prickling with warning at the calm mask he’s wearing so effortlessly. “He wore them too, our scales. Did you never notice? Or were you simply ignoring them to keep yourself happy?”
Your brow furrows, trying to shift out from between him and the rock, but the shells feel like they’ll tear with the slightest movement. “I’ve never seen him wear…” Your brow furrows, remembering the necklace he kept tucked beneath his shirt. Nausea roils in the pit of your stomach, remembering how they would drag over your chest whenever he was on top, grunting with hot, fishy breath. “I thought they were shark teeth,” you manage, quietly grimacing.
One hand finds your hip, keeping you pressed to the rock while his other twines with your own, pulling it from his shoulder. “They only keep one, but they pry them from our tails by the thousands,” he rasps softly, raising your fingers to his mouth. “Can you imagine that? Having them peeled” —soft lips brush the pads of your digits— “from your flesh?” He asks. Teeth slip beneath the ridge of your nail, applying pressure as if to pull it back, a small, tearing pain tingling along the padded bone.
You wince, trying to pull away, but he tugs on your nail harshly, making you cry out. “Azriel… That hurts. Stop it,” you order quietly. He does as you ask, but not before nipping at the tip of your finger, delivering a tiny bite to wrinkled skin. “Your husband wouldn’t have stopped there,” he rasps, releasing your hand but keeping you pinned to the rock. “He would have gone slower,” he says, dipping his head, until your noses almost touch, the damp, inky locks of his hair brushing your brow. “He would have taken pleasure in the blood rising. Would have—”
“Stop it,” you whisper, feeling sick.
Azriel pauses, but doesn’t retreat. You swallow harshly. “I’m sorry,” you whisper shakily, “I didn’t know. About the…” He hums absently, as if the thought doesn’t bother him, regarding the subject with vague disinterest. “And now you do,” he says. “So, mer, do you still wish to return to your fishing town? I’m sure your husband would be delighted to get his hands on you.” He pauses, eyes pinning you to the rock, mouth quirked in a faint smile. “Again.”
Your hand snaps from the water faster than you can think, compromising your position, your back dragging down along the jagged rock as you’re poised to strike—
He raises a single brow, watching you intently. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “it would do you some good to learn how to hit back.” Your lips press together, hand shaking lightly as you’re locked in his stare. He watches you intently, as if daring you to strike him. But you swallow, and lower your hand.
“You’re right,” you admit quietly, reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be so blunt about it. You don’t know anything about me, so don’t go prodding at old wounds to test their depth. It’s cruel.” He hums, a faint smile on his soft mouth, peering down at you with amusement in his dark onyx eyes. “And you don’t know anything about me, so don’t presume to know better,” he rasps, the ghost of breath bushing over your lips. “Believe me when I tell you we aren’t as barbaric as you’re lead to believe, nor as vicious or cruel.” His lips quirk into a faint grin, dark humour gleaming in his charcoal gaze. “At least, others aren’t.”
Muscle stiffens at the veiled threat, and discomfort writhes beneath your bones. You stare up into his eyes, conflicted between his opposites. On one hand he’s been gentle, patiently answering the questions you have, yet he’s firmly protective over his kind’s portrayal. The tip of your finger still stings lightly, back numb from the prickling press of barnacles, knees aching with more pronounced pain. “You recognised his voice,” you say slowly, watching him intently. “Back on the pier. You recognised my husband’s voice.”
His ears twitch, but his expression remains carefully neutral. “What makes you think that?” He asks, tail swishing against your feet. Your brow narrows as you peer at him, confused. “Are you denying it?” You ask quietly. “That you knew him?” Azriel’s silent, beats counting down as you scan his features for any sign or hint. But then he’s pulling away, and you wince as your back unsticks from the rock wall.
“That’s not a conversation for now,” he rasps, bringing you back out into the pool. Your brow furrows, “why not? He’s my husband.” Azriel looks at you steadily, unknown thoughts passing through his head. “And how would your husband react knowing his little wife was freely bare in a mer’s arms?” Wild heat swells up your spine, cheeks warming as embarrassment sears your blood. “You’re making it out to be something it isn’t,” you snap quietly, gaze dipping away from his, skin tightening with awareness.
Azriel’s lips quirk slightly, palm splaying up your spine, bringing you closer. “I doubt your husband would know any better,” he rasps, and you get the distinct impression he’s trying to find some buttons to push. “I’m his wife. I wouldn’t just run off with another…man…” Your brow tightens, unfamiliar with what to call him.
“So you want to return to him?” He asks leisurely, the pads of his fingers gently running along the slits of your gills, making the tubes spasm lightly, a tremor running down your spine as hundreds of tiny muscles flutter beneath his touch. “I’m—… That’s not the point I’m making,” you argue quietly.
He raises a brow tauntingly, and a scowl tips the edges of your mouth. You sigh harshly, tearing your gaze from his briefly. “Things may be unfavourable between us, but he is still my husband. Even if I…” You swallow, deciding against that part. Return your eyes to his. “I don’t appreciate you questioning my virtue. I will remain faithful for as long as he is my husband. That is what I agreed to when we were married, and that is how it shall remain. Don’t make something so sacred the topic of your twisted humour.”
“You truly believe if he were put in a room full of women with a promise nothing would escape to the outer world, he wouldn’t bed them in a second?” Azriel asks, amusement tilting his expression. “I do,” you reply firmly. There isn’t a doubt in your mind. He might have been an awful husband to you, but he’s pious and god-fearing, like any sane mortal is. You know with absolute certainty he would never be unfaithful to you.
“Even now?” Azriel asks, lips quirking with mirth. “Your sacred words are until death us do part, aren’t they?” Your brow narrows, but you nod, those are the words you had sworn to one another. “Then I believe the sailors on the pier will be able to attest to your passing,” he rasps lowly, “with the tales spread about our kind, being pulled into the water by me was as good as a death sentence.”
You swallow heavily, disliking him for the observation. “Maybe on his end,” you say quietly, “but I know I’m still alive—still living; still breathing—so I will remain as I was before you—” You cut yourself off, remembering the icy bite of the water. Of the cave he’d abandoned you in. Left for dead.
“You died,” he points out gently. “You drowned in those caves, therefore you no longer owe him anything.” You blink, muscles slackening at his sound argument. But you shake your head, “that doesn’t count. I know I’m alive, and—”
“Until death us do part means until death claims one of you, doesn’t it?” He asks.
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. You died. There is nothing keeping you to that town now, so don’t think of returning,” he rasps softly. “They’ll burn you alive for being turned into a monster,” he says quietly, humour gleaming in his onyx eyes—you don’t understand how he can make light of it.
A bit of despair begins to sink in, the reality of the situation dawning at the back of your brain. “I want to be alone for a bit,” you say, feeling the growing gloom beginning to ice your skin. “Please leave.”
He shakes his head, “and leave you alone while you’re changing?”
“I’ll manage somehow,” you reply evenly, closing yourself off. “So kindly leave me alone. You can come back if you’d like—” You stumble, having no concept of the time. How long has it been since he took you into the waters?
“It’s been three days. Your body needed to rest,” he says smoothly, making your skin crawl. The question still bubbles beneath your skin, but you refuse to ask it. “It’s sunset,” he answers quietly, lips softening at the edges, noting your wariness. You swallow down your despair at how much time has already passed. You don’t know why. It’s not as if you can do anything. “Then you can come back at daybreak,” you reply hoarsely, “for now I want my peace.”
He watches you silently, tail brushing your legs lightly with each swish. Then he sighs, floating back from where you bob in the pool. “You’re being foolish,” he warns as he prepares leave. “You’ll want me to be there when the aches start.”
“It’s happening tonight?” You croak, dread cementing itself in your stomach. He nods his head, dark, damp ringlets flicking with the movement.
Energy steadily drains from your body, overcome with the urge to rest. Perhaps you’ll simply be able to sleep through the night and bypass it entirely.
You turn in the pool, making your way to the lip, before hauling yourself up, water cascading down bare skin, scraping over jagged rocks. When you settle atop the padded floor, you find he’s already at the edge again, watching silently. “What do you want?” You ask softly, reaching for the cloth that had held your hair, hoping to at least get it out of the way for a bit.
Azriel is silent, observing as you put your hair away beneath the cloth. You shift uncomfortably, unaccustomed to being so completely bare before anyone other than your…than Alaric.
Finally he pushes off from the pool’s lip, floating out into the vastness of the lagoon. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he rasps, but you don’t have the energy to protest. “If you start feeling the urge to get in the water, don’t. You need to remain on land until your body is fully prepared to change, otherwise you’ll injure yourself.”
“What do you care?” You ask quietly, wishing it had come out with a little more bite—instead it sounds desperate. His arms fold over the edge, tail swaying restlessly. “That’s something we’ll talk about later, too,” he rasps softly, making you shift on the padded bed, droplets of water still trickling over bare skin. “For now I need you to understand you are not to go into the water under any circumstances. Not until I return. If you can agree to that, you can have your peace.”
You peer at him wearily, wanting nothing more than to lie flat on the bedspread and give yourself over to mindless sleep. “How many hours?” You ask quietly, and his lips soften at the edges, amusement gleaming. “Two,” he rasps, and again you get the distinct impression he’s intentionally chosen a short time span. “Give me five,” you counter quietly. At least with five you’re more likely to be able to settle into some form of unconsciousness.
Azriel shakes his head, smiling faintly. “You won’t last five on your own,” he reasons, apprehension crawling along your bones. Does he have to be so ominous? “Then give me four,” you say, trying to angle as much of your naked body away from him as possible. Again he shakes his head, tail swishing in a way you feel displays his entertainment. “Three,” you say through gritted teeth, on the verge of scowling at him. The bed is practically pulling you down.
“Alright,” he says, relenting. “You have three hours to yourself. Don’t do anything foolish.” You can see him practically singing for you to ask what counts as foolish, but you’re simply too tired. “Okay,” you reply, relieved to finally settle down into the soft padding of the bed. “Three hours,” you murmur, eyes locking as you lay on your side, arms half-heartedly positioned to hide your breasts.
His expression is gentle but unreadable—or maybe it’s just sideways. Either way, you wish he’d leave. The emotion is already creeping up your throat, and can feel the faintest tremor in your lower lip. He stays for a moment longer, before nodding slightly, then pushing off into the water, swimming out to the centre of the pool. You watch through heavy eyes as his lithe form turns back to face you, pausing before taking the dive into the lovely warm water.
“We may not yet be fully intimate with one another,” he rasps softly, the familiar drag of his words washing over you like deadly song. “But I wouldn’t wish you pain.”
The admission registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but before you have the chance to take it out to examine, he’s disappearing in a swirl of inky black and iridescent blues, leaving you alone in the cave.
Allowing the numbness to take root, yielding to the rush of emotion, allowing the tears to freely drip out.
Softly saturating into the sheets.
————
Aches blossom across your skin, blooming in your bones as if being ground against rock. Arms are heavy, as if weighed down by stones, joints clicking stiffly as you try to roll over, a low groan dragging from cracked lips.
Your forehead gleams, an unnatural heat swelling beneath the skin of your cheeks, having to crack your lids open—strangely weighty. The padded bedspread around you has darkened, but that must be from the sea-drops that had been rolling from your body once you’d—
Water.
Your tongue swipes stiffly over your lips, having to unstick it from the roof of your mouth, feeling like lead. It’s difficult to swallow, like your throat has swollen up—absolutely parched. Breath is hauled down into your lungs, airways rasping as your gills flutter at your ribs, tingling with sensitivity, and your legs. Sweat beads, perspiration rolling down your temples into the cloth around your hair. It would all be solved if you just shifted over, then you could splash into the lulling waves of the sea, allow it to soothe the aching heat that’s boiling you alive.
Breath rattles in your chest, the bones in your legs filled with grinding rock, knees and ankles lit up with pain, as if you’d sprained them. Everything hurts, worse than anything your husband ever put you through. Another strained groan breaks free from your raw and tender throat, a series of coughs hacking dryly from your lungs, spasming with the effort.
Eyes traitorously flick to the luminescent glow of pale blue sea, calling to you, urging you to give yourself over, as if having sewn a scarf’s worth of stitches through your limbs, threaded through sinew and cartilage to drag you along the smooth floor. Lids flutter, torn between longingly staring at the soothing sea, and shutting to yield yourself to blissful sleep. Quiet pants rasp from your lips, spine arching as a lacerating pricking feeling spikes low on your back, like someone’s pressing a blade to your skin, arching to escape it.
A cool hand wraps around your wrist, and a sigh of relief breathes heavily from your chest, relaxing back into the padding.
“Can you hear me?” A low, faint voice rasps, echoing through the foggy chambers of your mind. The hand squeezes lightly, then turns your arm over, exposing the pulse to the relieving drag of his thumb. Skin faintly registers how the touch grazes further up, reaching your shoulder to grip tight. A strained noise grates on your vocal cords as water splashes, then something cool is pressing to your forehead.
“I need you to move,” the voice rasps again, and you gather together enough energy to crack open your eyes. Dark, glittering onyx stares back at you, much larger than human eyes shoulder ever be, but evolved to handle the darkness of the murky sea. “Did you hear me?” He rasps. “You need to move. Your bones need to be set.”
You groan again, from deep in your chest, before wearily forcing yourself to move. You know in your bones it won’t get better unless you listen to him—sometimes you have to move through pain before it’s banished. Breathe heavily, getting yourself into a sitting position, able to meet the eyes of the mer floating at the edge of the pool. His head dips in a nod, before gesturing gently with his arms. “Bring your legs over here, into the water,” he instructs.
“What’s happening?” You croak out, dragging your legs until they’re at the lip of the lagoon. The skin of your ankle catches on the jagged rock, nicking at your flesh, sea salt stinging as he helps lower your calves into the water. Gentle hands easing the stiff movements of your joints. A pained sound of relief spills softly from your lips, like a quiet moan, and the edges of his mouth soften as he looks up at you.
“Does that feel better?” He asks, and you manage to nod your head in confirmation. His hand rests atop your knee while reaching for something, the heat of your body soothed by the cool balm of the ocean, the reassuring weight of his palm. Enough awareness returns to your mind to fully peek your eyes open, formulating thoughts. “Yes…” you rasp weakly, back hunched, too out of it to be concerned about your nakedness.
“Keep your legs together,” he says softly, “they need to be bound to help the bones set in place. It will ease the pain if you don’t have to keep them pressed together on your own.” You manage to nod your head, shoulders sloping with the weight on them. “I feel like I’m burning,” you rasp rawly, throat parched.
“It’ll pass,” he answers, and you watch as he begins wrapping something dark around your ankles, slowly but loosely binding them together, working his way up your shins, reaching your knees.
“How much longer?” You rasp out, sweat sliding down your spine. Rough, scarified fingers flex around the bandages, before his eyes raise to meet yours. “You were asleep for half an hour,” he says quietly. Your stomach practically sinks to your toes, heart beating in your mouth, pulsing hot on your tongue. “Half an hour?” You rasp, voice breaking at the end, despair prominent in the set of your parted lips. “Not even…” heavy breaths puff from your chest, heaving as another set of coughs wrack your lungs.
You shake your head, meeting his gently gleaming eyes. “I can’t do this,” you say weakly, “I can’t do this.” Azriel is silent, hands resting atop your knees, tail swishing far below in the lagoon. “You don’t have a choice,” he says softly. “It won’t kill you, and there’s no way to ease it. You just have to wait it out.”
“Easy for you to say,” you breathe, “you’re not the one whose skin feels like it’s on fire.” You pause, mind spinning with the intense heat bubbling away.
“Maybe you do,” you mumble, spiralling off the road as the words begin thoughtlessly dripping from your tongue. “How did you get these?” You ask, the pads of your fingers brushing over the blue-tinted skin of his knuckles, tracing the rough lines of warped flesh, deformed and swollen in places.
His fingers stiffen on your bound knees, your attention settling to the scarred skin of his hands. You’ve seen the fires lit beneath the mer, so they cook slowly, steeped in discarded fish guts as the birds come to feed on the boiled flesh.
Digits link with his own, greedily taking in the coolness of his skin compared with the hellish heat in yours. You squeeze him, as if able to take in his temperature and exchange it with your own, wanting to press his palms to your skin to relieve the burning. Dry lips part in a scratchy exhale, swept away in the thought of the cool reprieve he would bring.
“Ask another question,” he manages to rasp, voice strained.
“Will you touch me?” You don’t even hesitate.
His hands stiffen, and you have just enough sanity to make a clarification. “Normally,” you say, “like you are now, but more.” You can hear the desperation in your voice, but the need’s too great to be ashamed. Your skin is practically on fire with heat, flashes of sweat beading on your back, skin gleaming in the luminescent light.
His throat rolls heavily, then his lips press together in a soft line. “Alright,” he answers quietly, and you could melt with relief. You don’t wait for him to move on his own, instead holding his wrists and guiding them to your face, hands cupping your jaw and cheeks, calming the intense heat. A sigh spills from your chest, pressing his hands closer, as if it will help the temperature recede if he’s nearer. You quietly moan, though it ends more like a sob, groaning from the intense relief, unable to grasp the inappropriate nature of how vocal you’re being.
Azriel watches silently, powerful tail swishing steadily, keeping his hands pressed flush to your skin—that’s indeed hot to the touch. Dark, onyx eyes track your movement as you incline your chin, inadvertently displaying the smooth length of your throat as you crane your head back. He’s entirely still as you bring his hands lower, not quite encompassing your throat, but moving to wrap over the junction of your shoulders to your neck, his fingers spanning across the top of your back. He can feel the pronounced beat of your pulse, elevated from the changing.
You sigh again, sweet relief cooling the patches of skin he’s allowing you to press his hands to. Your palms settle over the backs of his, soaking in the lower temperature like its a medicine. “How much longer is this going to last?” You manage to ask, meeting his deep gaze, painful aches still blossoming up your legs, reaching your lower abdomen. “At least seven more hours,” he rasps quietly, fingers splaying over your skin of their own volition, putting soothing patterns over the top of your back.
“Seven more hours,” you repeat, staring at him. You blink a few times before shaking your head, shoulders sloping. “I really hate you right now,” you murmur, feeling another ticklish bead of sweat roll down your spine. There must be a small puddle beneath you by this point, perspiration coating your body like a hot, skin-tight cloak. Damp and sticky and easily resolved by just a short dip in the—
“Easy,” he warns, one hand leaving your shoulder to press on your knee, firmly keeping you in place as you try to squirm forward. “It’ll only make it worse if you go in now,” he reminds, a note of reprimand in his lovely, deep voice. You groan with frustration, toes curling in the cold water. You can imagine how the sea would sizzle if you dipped in.
“Why is it okay for my legs to be in but not the rest of me?” You snap quietly, longing for the ocean. “They shouldn’t, but the burning shouldn’t have started this early either,” he answers. He doesn’t mention it could mean it will pass swiftly, not wanting to get your hopes up. You shift on the ledge, moving your feet a little too jerkily, sending water splashing up onto the sides of your knees. Azriel’s eyes narrow on you, but you couldn’t care less, senses zeroing in on the cool droplets evaporating on your flesh.
“What do you mean the burning shouldn’t have started this early?” You croak, too weighed with fatigue to manage anything other than reluctant acceptance. He shakes his head. “The process usually builds over a few hours, stays at a peak for two, then dips back down,” he answers quietly, thumb swiping over the bone of your knee before returning to splay over your shoulder. “After that, you would be able to get in the water to help your body familiarise itself.”
“I want to go in now,” you rasp, turning your head away as you cough, throat itching. “I know,” he replies softly, but makes no move to help you in. You sigh, head hanging as your shoulders slope. “I should have just left you,” you mumble to yourself, caught up in the haze of sickness. Shake your head, bringing your hands to your face, a breath shuddering from your lips as you try to push the emotion away. Getting caught up in feeling won’t do you any good, so instead you exhale heavily.
“How long had you been there, anyway?” You rasp, bringing your eyes to the walled-off gaze of the mer’s. Your brow dips, “Azriel?”
He blinks, features blank, different from how they’d been a few seconds ago. “Four days,” he says shortly, tone clipped. Your eyes weight shut, blocking out the light of the pool. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean it. About leaving you. Not really…” You peek your eyes open enough to catch his nod, but you don’t feel forgiven.
You swallow heavily, wanting to switch subjects. “Alaric seemed to know you were there,” you say quietly, hands pressing to your thighs, nails digging in lightly.
“You really want to talk about your husband right now?” He asks.
“I thought you said our bonds were broken,” you counter scratchily, throat sandpapery. “Does it matter what I say?” He asks, watching you intently.
Lips purse, pressing together as you look down at him. The edges of his mouth quirk, a faint smile softening the corners. “Does it?” He repeats, raising a single brow. You swallow, “in that case it does.”
“And why in that case?” You look down, eyes skating over your bound ankles, his arms raised to cool your skin, your hands curling in your lap. Your tongue flicks over your lips, gaze latching to his. “I suppose you were right.”
His mouth shifts into a taunting grin, displaying the neat rows of tiny, flesh-shredding teeth.
Your brows furrow in a scowl. “Stop smiling,” you mutter, skin prickling as minute changes occur in your body. You wince, teeth gritting together as a sharp, splintering pain lances up your spine. “I think I need to lie down,” you choke out, pain making your vision dizzy as your features scrunch with hurt. His grin vanishes almost instantly, settling back into that soft, calming set, “okay.”
Slowly, one limb at a time, with a lot of unwanted help from Azriel, you manage to lift yourself away from the lulling wash of the ocean. Lay down heavily, already lamenting the loss of his cool hands over your sizzling skin, sweat dripping from your back into the padding of the bedspread. Saturating it enough you manage to force yourself onto your front, using the thin sheets and stuffs of pillows to find a relatively pain-free position.
“How long has it been?” You ask weakly, lids weighing heavy as you try to keep them open to distract yourself from the lacerating pain up your spine, lancing through your hips and knees. “About an hour since you woke up,” he replies, and you want to sink further into the mattress. Six more hours of this… Heat prickles behind your eyes, but you keep it at bay. It won’t do you any good.
Your eyes slide shut, too heavy for you to keep the weight at bay any longer. Your skin is practically sizzling, sweat pooling beneath you, dripping between your breasts, rolling down your stomach as you breathe deeply. Head resting in the pillow, tipped to the side, your eyes squeeze shut as if it will help to block out the aches.
Cool fingers link with your own, and you manage to blearily peek open long enough to see he’s propped his arms over the edge again, digits laced with your outstretched hand.
He says nothing, and you don’t have the energy to question it. Simply drifting off out to sea, lulled back to sleep by some strange pull.
Gently lured to a kinder state of rest.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
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seat-safety-switch · 8 months
Text
Visiting actual civilization is fun. In most cities, things don't start happening until you leave the endless expanse of suburbia and go to the inner city. Downtown haters will tell you not to do it, of course. It's "unsafe," but so is driving a fifty-year-old car without airbags or the ability to turn left. Joke's on them: not only will they use more fuel over the lifetime of their car idling at lights waiting for a green arrow, but they're also going to miss out on my favourite part of downtown, the sausage cart.
Long ago, according to local legend, this sausage cart was opened by a dude from Poland whose name is lost to history. His descendants now own a network of sausage carts all throughout downtown, but this one – the true original – is the only choice of the tube-meat connoisseur. I love to visit, get a smokie and a questionably-branded pop, and be back on the road, before the parking patrol has even twigged to the fact that I left my car in the memorial fountain once again.
Last weekend, I went down there and there was a problem. The operator, whose name will also be lost to history because I ain't no snitch, was worried that his customer base was starting to get pulled away by the falafel cart across the street. This was a valid worry: not only was the falafel cheaper, more flavourful, and more delicious, but they had a guy dressed up as a giant foam gyro breakdancing on the sidewalk. It was a nearly irresistible combo, one that I could only pull myself away from out of blind loyalty to the Sausage King's bravest foot soldier.
Now, I'm not one to get involved in petty squabbles like this normally. I would have just left, but the dude in the gyro suit started chirping at me as I approached my car. My attorney has suggested that I not repeat the words he spoke about my humble Volare, but I assure you that he ate said words, as I set about doing a spiteful, highschooler-grade one-wheel-peel burnout to enshroud their business in tire smoke. Of course, that burnout then resulted in the half-century-old automatic transmission letting go and splashing white-hot Dexron III® all over the cart full of ingredients, but it got results nonetheless. I don't know what they're complaining about, it didn't even taste bad when I helped myself to a free sample after they ran away.
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i-eat-worlds · 4 months
Text
Starcross Chapter 2
Unboxing time!
Content: aftermath of abuse, descriptions of injuries, medical whump, past non-con body mod, broken bones, brief mentions of fictional politics, brief dehumanization, non-sexual nudity, brief mentions of urinary catheters
Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763 Ziar peered down into the species containment unit, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the person confined inside. She turned to her captain. “I’m going to need you to leave, Veya.”
The person was entirely nude, and their body was covered with a seemingly endless number of big, dark bruises. Several tubes protruded from their body, attached to reservoirs of nourishment, fluids, and oxygen, as well as another to remove waste, all responsible for keeping them alive in the tiny chamber. It would be an involved process to get them detached and woken up, and neither of them needed an audience for that.
Behind her, Veya shifted. Ziar could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger aboard the ship, but she’d live. The infirmary was her domain, and no one else’s. “I’ll keep you updated. Promise. If there’s some sort of fun new novel parasite, I’ll let it eat me first.”
“Alright.” She chuckled a little bit, turning on her heel to leave. Ziar heard her stop to grab her weapon before thumbing up the stairs to the third level.
“Let’s get you out of there.” Her eyes flicked back over to the display panel, checking their vital signs once more. It gave their species as Human. They were one of the rarer species of the galaxy, and Ziar wasn’t overly familiar with them. However, their vitals seemed to be within normal limits, and the SCU wasn’t screaming loudly at her, so they were probably not awful.
It had been nearly a decade since she had last dealt with stasis units, but waking someone was a hell of a lot easier to manage than induction, so she wasn’t going to complain. She disconnected the feeding and hydration lines, though she left the port connecting device alone. The catheter also stayed in place, though she unattached the collection bag. It was mostly full, and Ziar was glad that they’d gotten to them when they did.
She looked at the panel again, and was surprised to find that Yera had splurged and bought an automatic transfer. All it took was pressing a few buttons to have the levitators float the person from the unit up to a bed. She still had to lug the ventilator around, but that was much preferred to having to carry a person. If Ziar was being honest, though, the person didn’t look like they weighed all that much.
The infirmary’s harsh lighting left nothing hidden as she methodically worked her way down from their head. Their hair had been completely shaved, only a thin layer of fuzz left behind. A dark, bruised ring rimmed their left eye, but the orbit seemed intact. On the right side of their neck, several Yeran letters and numerals were etched into their skin. KM-4682, if she was reading them correctly. Her stomach dropped as she moved on to examining the front side of their chest and abdomen. Their ribs crunched beneath her hands as he felt them, but their chest rose and fell as a single unit and their lungs sounded clear. Shallow cuts and old scars flecked their chest, along with several small bruises. Their left ankle was swollen concerningly, and Ziar was worried it was broken. Blood flow was good, but it should’ve been immobilized before the put into stasis.
On their frontside, that was the most severe injury she could find, but obvious evidence of mistreatment was overwhelming. The skin around their wrists was chapped from over-tight restraints, same as their ankles. And, combined with the electrowhip burns on their thighs, it reminded her of Adaxia in all the wrong ways.
She took a deep breath in, rolling her shoulders back before queueing the bed to roll them onto their side. The electrowhip scars were thicker here, criss-crossing over each other like a knot, but they were much more faded than the ones on their thighs.
Closer inspection soon revealed why.
A thin line of metal protruded from the back of their neck, terminating in some sort of cable port. Further down, on their lower back, was the same device, though a little more robust. They were spinal implants.
What the actual fuck?
Yera was screwing around with some poor soul's nerves. Sure prosthetic technology had advanced, but that had to be absolutely angonzing. What purpose was it even supposed to serve? Had they just done it to see if they could?
Then again, she shouldn’t have expected better from Yera. Or anything Gralla in general.
Furthermore, it was obvious that they hadn’t been taken care of properly. The skin around both was red and puffy, though she didn’t see any discharge. Yet. The implants should’ve been covered with another layer of medical grade, antiseptic dermafibran. It wasn’t like it was too early. She could see where the other incisions had healed completely. Leaving them open like that was unbelievably negligent. She forced herself to take another breath. Anger was not the ally she needed right now.
Just as she laid the person back down at, the intercom beeped. “There's a cruiser approaching us. We need to punch it.” Veya’s voice was steel, despite the stress she had to be under. “You’ve got two minutes while we charge to get stuff tied down.”
Great.
She had just gotten the straps across over their abdomen when the ship’s lightspeed engines revved, and Starcross flung itself off into space.
***
Free Space, YSS Victory, 4/5/4763
Anodyn tisked, hissing at the secretary on the other end of the communicator. “What do you mean it went down?”
The secretary tried to respond, but she cut them off. “I don’t care for whatever excuses he told you to give. I want it made very clear to him that if the asset is not returned, he will pay for his mistakes.”
“Yes Ma’am,” They said, discomfort edging its way into their voice despite their attempts to hide it.
She cut the connection without another word, frustration rolling off her in waves. The program was months behind schedule due to technical issues, and now this. While KM-4682’s implants had been a failure, there was still much to learn from its body. She couldn’t afford this, not if she wanted to keep the program up and running.
Her hand slammed into the lightweight metal of her desk, pain radiating up from her knuckles. This was not how her life’s work was going to be remembered, as a failure. She would bring Yera mech technology, and nothing would stop her. Not the imbeciles she was forced to work with, not time, not money, not the incomprehensible distances between the stars. Nothing.
Smiling, she stood up, straightening her uniform jacket. The door to her office wirred as she left, heading towards the bridge. She would hunt down KM-4682 herself.
And she would not fail, no matter the price.
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i-cant-sing · 27 days
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Any tips for buying scrubs? Cuz im extremely indecisive 😭
I guess it depends on ur skintone? I have teal/cerulean blue and maroon and navy blue scrubs for my fair Also get good material scrubs, cause you're gonna be wearing it all day long so better get something comfy.
Also idk about others in medical field, but I will wake up early if I have to just to do my eye makeup (and the rest of the face too, I keep it natural and simple) cause that's the thing my patients stare the most at. I do a very light shimmery eye shadow, usually either beige and champagne colors or light pinks and a popping cat eyeliner. I always get complimented on them and the other day as I was scaling, the patient kept her eyes open and was staring at me like 👁👄👁 and I was wearing the mask, gown, hair net, the whole fit, and all she could see were my eyes and I giggled as I asked "You like my eyes?" And with the suction tube in her mouth, she nodded wide eyed making me laugh more.
Oh I definitely wear cute, dainty earrings- ugh, honestly I dress up the way the dentists I used to admire did- always looking girly pop despite the chaos in the department and opd and patients looking like they've been through he'll and back. I feel like it helps build a better rapport and trust with the patients, because I'm confident when I wear my winged eyeliner, so automatically I'm good at controlling the patients💞
So wear colours u like, feel confident in. And dress up well.
This is my go to eye makeup on the daily.
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And I don't do siren eyes often because they tend to give off intimidating vibes but I do it sometimes when I want to impose authority over both the male staff/nurses and the creepy male patients:
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Nothing shuts them up like this death stare. I love power and makeup.
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tangibletechnomancy · 2 years
Text
How To Use AI To Fake A Scandal For Fun, Profit, and Clout
Or, I Just Saw People I Know To Be Reasonable Fall For A Fake "Ripoff" And Now I'm Going To Gently Demonstrate What Really Happened
So, we all know what people say about AI. It's just an automatic collage machine, it's stealing your data (as if the rest of the mainstream internet isn't - seriously, we should be using that knee-jerk disgust response to demand better internet privacy laws rather than try to beef up copyright so that compliance has to come at the beginning rather than the end of the process and you can be sued on suspicion of referencing, but I digress...), it can't create anything novel, some people go so far as to claim it's not even synthesizing anything, but just acting as a search engine and returning something run through a filter and "proving" it by "searching" for their own art and "finding" it.
And those are blatant lies.
The thing is, the reason AI is such a breakthrough - and the reason we memed with it so hard when DALL-E Mini and DALL-E 2 first dropped - is because it CAN create novel output. Because it CAN visualize the absurd ideas that no one has ever posted to the internet before. In fact, it would be a bigger breakthrough in computer science if we DID come up with an automatic collage machine - something that knows where to cut out a part of one image and paste it onto another, then smooth out the lighting and colors to make them fairly consistent, to make it look like what we would recognize as an image we're asking for? That would make the denoising algorithm on steroids that a diffusion model is look like child's play.
But, unlike the posts that claim that they're just acting as a collage maker at best and a search engine at worst, I'm not going to ask you to take my word for it (and stick a pin in this point, we'll come back to it later). I'm going to ask you to go to Simple Stable (or Craiyon, or the Karlo demo, if Google Colab feels too complicated for you - or if you like, do all of the above) and throw in a shitpost prompt or two. Ask for a velociraptor carousel pony ridden by a bunny. Ask for Godzilla fighting a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man. Ask for an oil painting of a capybara wearing an ornate princess gown. Shitpost with it like we did before these myths took hold.
Now take your favorite result(s) and reverse image search them. Did you get anything remotely similar to your generated image? Probably not!
So then, how did someone end up getting a near perfect recreation of their work? Was that just some kind of wacky, one-in-a-million coincidence?
Well - oh no, look at that, I asked it for a simplistic character drawing and it happened to me too, it just returned a drawing of mine that I never even uploaded, and it's the worst drawing I've done since the fifth grade even just to embarrass me! Oh no, what happened, did they change things right under my nose, has digital surveillance gotten even WORSE?? Look, see, here's the original on the left, compare it to the output on the right - scary!! They're training on the contents of your computer in real time now, aaaagh!!
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Except, of course, for the fact that the entire paragraph above was a lie and I did this on purpose in a way no one could possibly recreate from a text prompt, even with a perfect description.
How?
See, some models have this nifty little function called img2img. It can be used for anything from guiding the composition of your final image with a roughly drawn layout, to turning a building into a dragon...to post-processing of a hand-drawn image, to blatantly fucking lying about how AI works.
I took 5 minutes out of my day to crudely draw a character. I uploaded the image to this post. I saved the post as a draft. I stuck the image URL in the init_image field in Simple Stable, cranked the init strength up to 0.8, cleared all text prompts, and ran it. It did exactly what I told it to and tried to lightly refine the image I gave it.
If you see someone claiming that an AI stole their image with this kind of "proof", and the image they're comparing is not ITSELF a parody of an extremely well-known piece such as the Mona Lisa, or just so extremely generic that the level of similarity could be a coincidence (you/your favorite artist do/es not own the rule of thirds or basic fantasy creatures, just to name one family of example I've seen), this is what happened.
So from here you must realize that it is deeply insidious that posts that make these claims usually imply or even outright state that you should NOT try to recreate this but instead just take their word for it, stressing ~DON'T FEED THE MACHINE~. It's always some claim about "ohhh, the more you use them, the more they learn, I made a SACRIFICE so you don't have to" - but txt2img functions can't use your interaction to learn jack shit. There's no new information in a text prompt for them TO learn. Most img2img models can't learn from your input either, for that matter! I still recommend being careful about corporate img2img toys - we know that Facebook, for instance, is happy to try and beef up facial recognition for the WORST possible reasons - but if you're worried about your privacy and data harvesting, any given txt2img model is one of the least worrying things on the internet today.
So do be careful with your privacy online, and PLEASE use your very understandable knee-jerk horror response to how much extremely personal content can be found in training databases as a call to DEMAND better privacy laws ("do not track" should not be just for show ffs) and compliance with security protocols in fields that deal with very private information (COMMON CRAWL DOESN'T GO FAR OUT OF ITS WAY, IT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ABLE TO GET ANY MEDICAL IMAGES THE PATIENTS DIDN'T SHARE THEMSELVES HOLY SHIT, SOME HOSPITAL WORKERS AND/OR MEDICAL COMMUNICATIONS DEVELOPERS BETTER BE GETTING FIRED AND/OR SUED) - but don't just believe a convenient and easy-to-disprove lie because it aligns with that feeling.
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whatyadrawin · 3 months
Text
The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 15
Minors DNI!
Masterlist
Approximately 6,667 words
Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader
This chapters Warnings:  Sexual language and visual depiction of sexual acts, foul language. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.
A/n: I finished this semester of schooling and will be starting my contracted work in July so chapters will continue to be pretty sporadic but they will keep coming until the final one. I struggled a bit with pushing along the story in this one because of the shift in locations but we have some good things coming, and we now have TOMMYS AGE! The censored images can be viewed raw on my google doc (By clicking that link you are consenting to seeing graphic adult imagery and you are over 18). Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.
Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.
Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae , @dij-ology , @jillian-mill , @littlelovebug98
Chapter 15
The faint sound of dishes clinking and scraping wandered into your dream, the swirling visuals dissipated as the sounds became louder until all you saw was black. Your eyelids remained closed as you squeezed them together hoping the pressure would lift the wight of sleep. As your consciousness lazily took hold, the sounds began to make sense, someone was cooking up a storm in the kitchen and the sweet smell of cinnamon was now registering in your nose.
You rubbed your eyes to help moisten them so they didn’t hurt when you opened your lids, you saw the morning light softly reflecting onto your bed from the window. You get up and breathe out deeply as the memories of the night before flood back to you -was that even real?- you still had a dull pain in your soft bits from being stretched so far -I guess it was-
You head to the bathroom to wash up, the house was like an oven already which worried you for how hot the peak of the day would be. You entered back in the room to look for your phone which seems like it hadn’t been used in ages; You pulled up a search engine and perused the local listings for any companies that would be able to irrigate farmland and install underground automatic sprinklers for the fruit trees. While you scrolled the various companies capable of the work, you hear a knock on the bedroom patio door,
“You awake hun?” It was Luda Mae,  “I got some fresh cinnamon buns here for you dear.”
You put your phone down to get to the door, you move the curtains aside to reveal Luda Mae holding a large plate of fresh cinnamon buns heavily glazed with icing. You slide open the door for her,
“You weren’t gettin’ shut eye just now I hope?” You smile and shake your head, she continues, “Thought you might like some fresh rolls on this sunny mornin’”
You take the plate with a huge smile on your face, you hadn’t had cinnamon buns in years,
“Thank you so much! Did you make these yourself?” your voice was bubbling with excitement.
Luda Mae laughs, “Lord no, I got that lil’ dough man’s tube of ‘em from the store. Felt like givin’ them a try.” Luda Mae’s smile faded a little, she had clasped her hands together in front of her nervously, “Mind if I talk to you hun?” she asks.
You move aside and guide her in with an outstretched hand, “Not at all” you reply.
She turns to face you  as she entered in, her glasses resting on her hair, “I know you’re gonna be headin’ back up to the house real soon, them trees need carin’ for after such a long time.” She pauses and stares at your unmade bed, she was clearly uncomfortable so she began to busy herself.
She looks up and notices you watching her, you must have looked a bit perplexed because she felt the need to explain her actions, “Sorry hun, I just need to have my hands busy right now.”
“That’s ok, it’s your house” you immediately felt your words may have come off as standoffish and you regretted saying them.
She thinned her lips and tilted her head when she heard that, as if it was an insult, “Well, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about” she continued to fuss with the bed, “Go ‘head and eat those rolls while they’re still warm dear. Go on now”
You take a seat at the writing desk where you placed the plate of goodies and turn your chair to face her; You take a small bite of the cinnamon bun and a burst of sweet warm dough wakes you up, the icing clung to your upper lip which you hastily licked away.
“Thank you for the Cinnamon buns, they are exceptionally good.” You swallow the bready sweet and continue, “What about this house did you want to talk to me about?” you were beyond curious.
She sighs as she runs her hands over the sheets to flatten them and remove wrinkles,
“I know you felt like you were puttin’ us out while you been stayin’ here, and I know you got your own home and responsibilities...” you could feel a hovering air of anxiety in the awkward pause, you smile and reassure her,
“Hey, you can tell me anything. I’m family remember?”
She gave a relieved smile after you said that and lowered her shoulders down from their hunched up position.
“’Course I remember hun. Ok, well here goes then… Now, me n’ Charlie been discussin’ you a lot the past few days, we don’t have a lot of time left on this earth and Loretta and Monty will be gone sooner than us, so really there won’t be anyone left.” She folded the ends of the sheets perfectly as she tucked them under the pillows, “What I’m trying to say is, we wanna ask you to watch over Tommy when god calls us home. I know you n’ him been getting’ along real well and I guess I was hopin’ you two might get married someday, then this house and the land will be left for the both of you.”
You were taken aback by the overtly honest summary of her plea, you didn’t know what to say so you just sat there stunned and silent. Luda Mae saw you looking like a deer caught in headlights, she walks over to you cautiously, hoping you weren’t about to freak out,
“Now, I know this is a big ask, and a lot to take in all at once what with how you ain’t even been here a year yet but, we been through so much and Thomas loves you and he ain’t never loved no one like that before and we wanted to repay Tilly for all her generosity but she passed away ‘fore we could so we figured you were deserving of the gift and-”
You shook your head and she paused; Luda Mae was word vomiting all her anxiety out on you and you weren’t able to listen properly because of the big news you just received, you scratch your head and collect some thoughts to respond,
“I’m truly flattered and surprised at this offer, no one has ever considered me in this way, other than Tilly I guess but, I barely even knew her.” You stood up from the chair, “I love Tommy, and I intend to be there for him until I die, so I don’t need incentive to stick around. I really want you to know that I am not going anywhere. I’ll be visiting here as often as I can, it’s not like I’m far away.” You get up and take her hand in yours, “I’d love to marry your son, not so I can get this house or the land, but for us to both have the legal paper that makes us family. I deserve to experience having a husband who loves me and I think he deserves a wife who loves him.”
Luda Mae pulls you in for a hug, she has excellent hugs that feel like the warmth and love of a million mothers. You hug her back and rest your head on her shoulder, she gives you a kiss on the back of your head,
“Hun you must be an angel sent from Tilly herself, I swear it.”
These people would be seen as evil monsters by any normal objective person, you knew that Luda Mae carried large amounts of guilt on her shoulders from participating in the horrors this family created, which made her feel like she had to do extra good to make amends with her god before she reaches the end of her life. You felt a weight of sorrow knowing they had to resort to cannibalism in order to survive famine and governmental abandonment, it must have been a difficult decision to make, but Tilly saved them from that hell, and you were there to continue her work.
Luda Mae released you from the hug and held your shoulders so she could look at you,
“I know you’re humble about getting things and feelin’ appreciated, but you’re special to us. You’re in the will whether you want it or not.”
She rubbed the sides of your arms and whisked out the sliding door back to the kitchen, you sat back down at the desk and mulled over what she said while taking another cinnamon bun to eat. -I never thought I would get found family when I came here, this is such a gift-
-----
The noon sun was now blazing in the sky, you finally found a company that would be able to help you with your orchard and set up a meeting with them in the upcoming weeks. You had a few bags full of your belongings that you had packed up to move back to your house, you grab two and put on a sun hat to make your way home.
The walk was sweltering, you could see the air swirling with heat creating a mirror effect on the ground in the distance,  your skin was shimmering with a layer of sweat in an attempt to cool you down. The dry grass was humming with the chirps of crickets and birds, you see the entrance to the driveway of your home and hurry yourself to get out of the heat.
As soon as you get in the door you let out a long sigh and drop the bags on the living room couch, the house was warm from having all the windows and doors shut, you needed to get the air circulating. You walk into the kitchen and fill a cup with cold water at the sink, you gulp it down hastily, feeling like you never had a thirst so extreme in your life. -I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this heat-
As you begin to drink a second glass you stare out the window of the living room and see that moving crate still sitting there, you get your phone out of your pocket and call the number for the company. Someone picks up after a minute of ringing and you promptly get a pick-up time arranged to get it removed. -I’m so productive today, I finally feel like my life is moving at a normal speed again- Having that crate gone will really solidify the permanence of your residency.
You make your way to the backyard and see someone coming up the road in the distance, you grab the pair of binoculars you used when you arrived and see that its Tommy -Oh man, I’m going to tease the shit out of him and get him to break his game- When he left you all hot and bothered last night you didn’t want to wait and mess around anymore, you felt compelled to get him inside you after months of dreaming of it and being so close.
You get yourself changed into a skimpy outfit, a very low cut, white, tank top with no bra and a pair of lavender booty shorts. You put your hair into a high pony tail and get your face touched up with some minimal makeup since the heat would melt any heavy glam looks right off your face. You give yourself one last look in the mirror and spritz a pump of perfume on -If he can resist this then there’s no hope for me-
You pop on a large pair of shades and go back out to the yard and wait patiently on the swing bench, you giggle to yourself unable to keep your composure from the butterflies you were experiencing. Tommy rounded the corner and stopped when he saw you, his eyes widen as he stared but then he realizes what you’re doing and shakes his head as he continued to walk closer. You look up from your shades and get up from where you sat.
You speak in your most aloof and sultry voice “Hey Tommy, want some water? You look so thirsty” you flash him a cocky smile, he probably didn’t know the subtext of your words but your tone likely gave him a hint.
“I ain’t gon’ slip up ‘round you.” He said in a haughty tone.
He crossed his arms, his pecs puffed out as they squished together. He was dressed similar to a 50s greaser you would see in a cheesy movie, his white t-shirt was working hard clinging to his oversized muscles and his light denim jeans didn’t have much room where it counted. He was wearing some nice black biker boots underneath too; It seems he came prepared to fight back against your deadly tactics.
You stood there with a devilish grin on your face,
“Uh-huh, we’ll see. Now did you want that water?”
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He nodded and you turned around slowly to get in the door to the kitchen, making sure he saw your ass in those tiny little shorts that barely hid cheek. You knew you were successful when you saw his reflection in a framed picture on the wall that faced him from the inside, he had both his hands raised to his head in disbelief at the sight before him. You blushed as you let the water fill the glass in the sink -I have this in the bag-
When you came back out you saw Tommy overlooking the orchard, you walked up beside him and handed him the cup. He took the glass from your hands and thanked you, he guzzled the water so quick it was like it was a shot of liquor at a bar to him. He handed the glass back to you, as you grabbed it he grazed your hand purposefully with his fingers, you went and set it down on the table next to the swing bench -God he’s smooth-.
“I know what mama went and asked to ya” he didn’t look at you when he spoke,
“Hm” was all you could find to reply with
He continued, “Ya ain’t got to do nothin’ you ain’t wantin’ to do, y’know?”
You touch his forearm, he turned his head to look at you slowly, you weren’t sure if he was talking about the marriage or the commitment to his care, so you vaguely asked,
“Do you want me to?”
“I wanna know what you want” he was not exactly making things clear, so you decided to ask directly,
“You mean about taking care of you when they are gone?”
He looks away and lowers his head and nods,
You squint your eyes, “I want to be with you for the rest of my life” you hope your words were reassuring to him.
He whipped his head to look at you, “Y’sure? ‘cus if that’s true then…”
You nod and follow up, “Now the question is, do you want me there for the rest of your life?”
He turns his whole body to you creating a large shadow, he took your hand in his and said “I wanna be your husband real bad, more’n’ anything I could ever think of”
You smile, “Good, because I want to be your wife real bad, more than anything I could ever think of.”
Tommy let out a relieved chuckle, he kissed your hand and picked you up. You laugh and remove his mask, pressing your lips onto his, the prickling of his stubble tickled your skin, he slowly twirled around with you in his arms letting out muffled laughs behind his kiss. You had never seen him so happy before, his gnarled smile melted your heart into a puddle and you never wanted to see it fade. He released his lips from yours and put you down on the ground, you gave him his mask and he placed it back on his face.
“You can keep the mask off, no one is around but me.” You didn’t understand his long-held habit of hiding his face even when it wouldn’t matter.
He fitted the mask back on and nodded saying, “I wanna keep it off, but, my skin ain’t seen much sun and burns real easy.”
You felt a bit embarrassed from not realizing, but Tommy didn’t let you dwell on it,
“C’mon, let’s go look at them trees n’ I’ll let y’know what I can do for this here orchard.”
He takes your hand and leads you down to the rows of trees.
The shade under the foliage was a nice break from the blistering sun, Tommy immediately began inspecting the branches and checking the buds where new fruit would bloom. You watched as he gently moved around the dirt near the roots, he turned to you and said,
“I’ll be comin’ ‘round often to get things right for ya, but, so far so good.”
You felt less anxious about the daunting task ahead of you, the trees seemed to hold up really well without a caretaker and now that you had Tommy helping you, it felt like smooth sailing. He wasn’t even your husband yet and he was already taking responsibility to care for you. It made you feel so peaceful to know such a powerful man wanted to participate in your life and happiness.
You both wandered around the trees for a bit until you reached the shack where Dover lived, Tommy saw you tense up,
“Want me t’get rid of it?”
You shook your head, “No, no, or… at least, not yet. I might as well look inside and clear it out before we get rid of it. I want to make sure there isn’t much uhm…evidence of him.”
Tommy tilted his head, he knew you were right but he was concerned about the bad memories stressing you out. You walked up to the door and tried to open it but it was locked, you shake your head and huff,
“Guess I’ll need to look for a spare key somewh-“
Tommy moved you aside and promptly kicked the door in, it flung back to the wall behind it cracking in multiple areas,
“I… well ok then, guess I don’t need to find a key after all! You know, maybe I could have been able to refurbish it into a new home for a replacement caretaker.” You smile at him, he laughs,
“Y’weren’t gon’ make no one live in this.” He knew you well already.
When you stepped inside, you were hit with the disgusting stench of lingering body odor. You immediately covered your nose with your hand and wretched, Tommy took an orange handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to you. With the handkerchief on your nose, the stench was a bit more bearable, you thank him and continue to look around. The place was so tiny, it was barely the size of a bedroom in a single apartment. The walls were a dirty brown color and there were no ceiling lights just old lamps.
You saw Dover’s bed in the far end, an old tube T.V. was sitting on a tiny little side-table next to it. At the entrance you saw a small sink with no undercabinet; A toilet and shower area were tucked in a small room next to the fridge. He had a table pushed against a free wall with a dingey cabinet beside it next to the bed, you walked over to the table and saw the wall the table was pushed up against, it had a bunch of pictures stuck to it.
You looked back and saw Tommy peering in from the entrance, his arms resting on the top of the doorframe, he saw you look at the wall and asked,
“What y’seein’?”
You shrug and move in closer and see its all pictures of naked women from dirty magazines, all of their eyes were scratched out with pen.
You gasp, “Ew! It’s a porn wall Ugh!”
Tommy laughs at your reaction and calls out to you,
“Get outta there, nothin’ good fer ladies t’look at”
You hurry out of the shack and take in the fresh air,
“Ok this thing need to get demolished or burned or blown up I don’t know it just needs to be erased… the smell alone is a threat to the environment.”
Tommy props up the broken door to cover the entrance and follows behind you,
“I wanna show ya somethin’”
“Where?” you ask
“Somethin’ you’d find interestin’ s’long as it’s still there”
You follow Tommy out to the far end of the orchard, there’s a bunch of thick bushes that look like they were overgrown and began to encroach on the fruit trees. He walks up to the bushes and starts ripping up the branches with ease, he didn’t seem to care about possible spiders or other creepy crawlies that might get on him. You wait under the shade as he went further into the bushes, clearing a path of broken branches and flattened earth behind him.
“AHA HERE IT IS!” he yells
He turns to wave you over, you walk up to where he was crouched and carefully step into the bush. The soft leaves brushed your arms as you went through the newly formed path, Tommy takes your hand and pulls you over to an indent in the growth, it reveals an old stone that’s been overgrown with moss, weeds, and grass.
“What is this?” you ask
Tommy knelt down and pointed to some words etched into the stone and what looks like an imprint under the words, you move away some grass and weeds and see that it’s a handprint. You read the writing and it says ‘Tommy 1979’.
“Is that your hand print? What is this stone?”
Tommy smiles and touches it, his finger is longer than the entire handprint in the stone,
“Mama said she’d take me here as a baby ‘cus it was the only place I’d stop m’cryin’. Uncle Charlie made a concrete stone with my handprint n’ put it here.” He looked over at you and continued, “Tilly put down chairs n’ flowers when she moved out here, she kept it nice until she died.”
You rub his arm, “This is a cool spot, we should clear all these bushes out and make it nice again.”
Tommy stood up with you as you looked around to see if you could make out any formations under the bush.
“What y’lookin’ for?” Tommy asked
“I’m trying to see if these bushes are grown over chairs, why did this area get left unattended?”
Tommy pointed at the direction of the shack.
You nod, “Yeah, that makes sense.”
The sun was starting to really heat up the air, you could feel the rays begin to sizzle your skin,
“Let’s head back to my house, its too hot out here.” You say.
While walking back up the hill to your house, you made sure to walk ahead of Tommy, you emphasized the sway of your hips as you walked, just to push his buttons. Tommy watched as you teased him, he was white knuckling restraint to just grab you and open you up, you were good at making him weak.
You both arrived at the house and entered the kitchen to get more water, you gave Tommy a much larger glass this time and he definitely needed it. You watched as this large beast of a man removed his mask and proceed to guzzle down gallons of water, small droplets rolled down his neck and twisted a knot of desired in your core. -He drinks as much as a bull-
He downed the last drink and let out a pleased gasp of refreshment, he lifted his shirt up to dry his face from sweat and escaped water from the glass and your eyes travelled down to his soft, hairy stomach which puffed out from years of eating well. This man was massive and when you allowed yourself to gawk at him, it seemed to dawn on you just how unbelievably solid he was. You looked away and clenched the fabric of your shorts tightly, hoping you could release some of your attraction into the material.
Tommy noticed you looking tense and walked over to find out what was causing you to shrink your stature,
“Y’ok?” he asked.
His deep voice was like silk in the wind, smooth and entrancing,
“I uh, yeah I’m fine sorry.” You attempted to correct your cracking voice, unsuccessfully.
The house was quiet and cool inside, you wanted to get your mind right so you wouldn’t fail your salacious objective,
“Come check out the finished work in the bedroom, it looks brand new.” You wave for him to follow you.
Tommy followed closely behind you, having to duck down through the doorway just to get in the room. You began pointing at varied areas that were recently fixed saying how nice everything looked, Tommy walked over to the bed and inspected where the window was,
“This where that fire started?” he asked
You went over to where he stood and looked, it seemed there was a spot on the wall where the paint didn’t quite dry right, the color was a bit darker than the rest of the wall.
“What the hell? I never noticed this, how far does it go down?” you hopped on your bed and leaned over to inspect the wall behind the mattress.
Tommys eyes grew wide as he watched you bend on your knees, your ass was high in the air and your legs spread. He immediately felt his jeans tighten and his head began to swirl with lust. You were too busy inspecting the wall to realize what you were doing to him, you call out to him,
“Tommy, can you come check the wall here, I want to be sure its not just me seeing the paint looking off.”
Tommy let out a deep breath and slowly kneeled onto the bed next to you, but there wasn’t much room for him to look. He was trying to avoid pushing you with his body but he wasn’t able to see much with you in the way, he was making a mental effort to calm down the raging erection that now pained him. You noticed he was struggling so you pointed to where he needed to look and you positioned your body under his so he could look over you instead of past you.
He touched where the paint was dark,
“Yep, it’s different here. Nothing t’worry ‘bout though.”
You sighed “Well ok, that makes me feel better.” You removed yourself from under his chest and lay on the bed, your head to the pillow,
“Here, lay down, I’ll make some room for you.” You pat your hand on the area next to you
Tommy looked over your body, he focused in on your hardened nipples poking through your shirt, tantalizing him further. He didn’t want to reveal his stiffened groin to you, he knew you would work him up and he wanted to win, at least, he thought he wanted to win.
You watched as Tommy remained frozen looking at you, this made you curious until you saw where his dick was and a blatant hard on was pointedly visible in his pants. The arousal you had been feeling this whole time got dialed to a hundred, and you took no time to wreck this man’s self-restraint.
“Tommy, did I get you all hot and bothered?” your voice had a playful mocking tone to it.
Tommy sat on the bed covering his shame and blushing hard,
“No!” he proclaimed.
You giggle, “Why don’t you let me help you out with that.”
Tommy wanted you so badly but he also wanted to resist, he didn’t feel ready to release himself, he was scared he would unknowingly hurt you. He looked away, his cheeks were a bright pink from being flustered. You crawl towards him and put your hands on his thighs,
“Come on, after you were so cruel to leave me a wet mess last night…”
Your hands moved up his thigh and towards his penis, you rubbed the thick pipe-like mound that pressed against his jeans and you heard him whimper, this made you grin wildly,
“Look how trapped you are, at least let it out so you aren’t in pain.”
Tommy didn’t move, he just watched as you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. The lessened pressure felt good but it allowed for more blood to fill his shaft and harden an already firm erection, which made the sense of relief fleeting.
You felt a ball of heat form in your vaginal walls, slick wetness was now moistening your shorts and you were being driven into a craze,
“You wouldn’t leave me like that again, would you? I don’t know if I could forgive you if you did.” Your words rang in his ears. “Touch me Tommy, I need to feel you.”
He was awestruck by the sight before him, a gorgeous woman with barely any clothes on was basically begging to be with him. He wanted to do terrible things to you but the fear of causing harm overpowered his desires, you were so small compared to him,
“I-I don’ wanna hurt ya” he said in a whispered tone.
You stopped touching him and look up, “What do you mean?”
He sighs, “I ain’t able to… control myself when I get goin’ n’ well, I’m bigger than ya”
You couldn’t suppress your smirk, just the thought of him getting rough and wild was unbearably electrifying. You crawl closer to his chest and sit between his legs, you raise your hips and press your body on his causing his cock to be squeezed by your pelvis. Tommy inhaled sharply and restrained a moan, your hips lined up to reveal exactly how deep his dick would go if he were to bottom you out, this visual was driving him over the edge.
You could feel him twitching on your abdomen, and you knew you could get him to relinquish his control, you took a chance and lifted your shirt up off your body and tossed it to the side. You took his hand in yours and placed it on your breast, letting out a hushed gasp as his hand cupped your bosom. Tommy was losing his state of mind, he felt like he was in a dream and all he could focus on was you, he was straddling your bed with each leg dangling over either side of the small mattress.
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Tommy massaged the skin around your breast, his fingers finding their way to your nipple where he softly pinched and pulled outward sending a tingling feeling up your spine. He placed his free hand on your other breast and squeezed with the perfect amount of pressure, he was mesmerized by the plush feeling in his hands. You bit your lip as he played with your perked nipples, he lowered you down to lay you flat on the bed. You raised your arms above your head giving him free access to the entirety of your torso, Tommy leaned over top of you trailing his hands over your skin which tickled your nerves.
His hands found their way to your shorts, he slowly pulled them off your body and growled when he saw you lay there before him unhidden by fabric. Tommy lay next to you on the bed he continued to touch your body as he put his arm under your head and wrapped his forearm around your shoulders so he could touch the breast closest to that hand.  His touch was so soft it was like a whisper of movement that barely brushed your skin and it made your eyes roll back.
He nuzzled into your neck and placed kisses up from your collarbone until he reached your lips where he paused and hazily looked into your eyes,
“Think y’can handle what’s comin’?” he said in a breathy barotone.
You lean your lips close to his, stopping a hairs breadth away,
“I want to touch the fire. Show me the flame”
He lowers his hand to your clit and massages the tip of the hood, you gasp while looking into his eyes, he grins and says,
“Y’ain’t scared of gettin’ burned huh”
You shake your head and squeal as he presses down with more pressure sending your nerves into a crackling fracture. He lets out a guttural laugh at your confidence, he quiets your moans by pressing his lips on yours, his tongue dancing into your mouth so it can find its partner. You reciprocate his movements and mingle your passion between each other. His finger slips between your parting and enters into you, it was intense and drove heat up into your medial region and made you cry out with bliss.
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You broke the kiss so you could breathe in deeply, his finger movements were tactical and precise as if he knew exactly where each pleasure spot inside you was hiding. You couldn’t take it anymore, you grabbed onto his neck and moved your body to face his while hooking your leg around his thigh. Your slit was right up against the length of his pulsating member, you rubbed up and down the extent of it to get it soaked and ready.
Tommy whined as you moved, he remained patient as he waited for you to decide when you wanted penetration. You watched as his face contorted into a delirious expression, then when his eyes began to roll back you pressed his head into your welcoming warmth. Tommys eyes jolted open, he was breathing heavily, you slid down on him and let more in, this time it felt effortless. You moaned loudly as you began to slowly traverse the exorbitant distance of his cock, you felt your insides stretch with each new inch achieved.
Tommy officially lost himself, with his brain leading into a more primitive state he quickly grabbed onto your hips and rolled himself on top of you. He pressed his body down on yours pinning your movements, leaving just enough room to allow you to breathe. His head was faced deep into the mattress above your shoulder, his mouth sucking in air and growling into your neck. Tommy moved your forward and back with no restraint, his tip was being thrust so deep it kissed your cervix and jolts of painful pleasure shot up into your chest.
You tried to push his torso back to allow you some room to move, he grunted as he moved himself up and off your body while removing his shirt, you used your legs to push off of him so you could change your position, his dick slipped out of you with a lewd sound. You could barely see his eyes through his now tousled hair, he looked untamed, his pupils were dilated and his chest heaved with each pant.
You turned to face the bed, you could feel your legs tremble under you from the sudden change in Tommys demeanor. Just as you tried to reach for the pillow you felt a large hand grab your ankle and pull you away from it, you fell onto your stomach and had your legs pulled open just before he squeezed himself inside again. You let out a nervous giggle and loudly groaned as he pumped erratically, your body was screaming with joy as each thrust felt like a touch of delicious sin.
Just when you thought he had enough, he lifted you off the bed, cock still sheathed in your body, he raised your legs up with one arm and constricted his other arm around your ribs like a snake. You were suspended up on his chest, he bucked his hips and made your body rise and fall methodically. He was piercing into you, the lip of his glans bumped into your G-spot forcefully, you couldn’t help but scream out,
“Oh shit, I’m gonna cum!”
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Your words were like an activation, Tommy began to press you deeper onto his cock and pull you farther up to maximize the sensation, he loudly huffed with grunts and deep breaths, you could tell he was ready to explode,
“Cum inside me Tommy, fill me up!” you plead.
He began to moan with each push, you couldn’t stop the feeling from washing over you with rippling static, your voice sang out with raucous harmony as an orgasm broke your sense of reality and made you see stars. Tommy reacted to your verbalization by painting your insides with his semen, as soon as you felt the first release he aggressively lowered you down and bent over you, with each procession of cum he pressed himself further in and husked a rumbling moan. You could feel your insides swell with his fluids, it felt like a void was overtaken and removed, you felt strangely complete.
Tommy flopped over to his side, dragging you with him, he kept his still erect manhood resting in your trembling canal. He seemed to be coming back to his senses as his breathing levelled out,
“How y’feelin’?” he murmurs
You let out a long breath and smile “I’ve never been fucked like that before.”
He slowly slides out of your hole, a sputtering flow of cum followed. You clench your abdominal muscles and squeeze to release more of his semen out onto the bed, you turn over to face him and he lifts his head with his arm as he gazed into your eyes, you laugh and say,
“So, was that you losing control?”
He closes his eyes and sighs, “Yeah, I mean, I know what all happened but, it was like m’dang body was doin’ its own thing.”
You nod, -That must be as rough as it gets-
“How come you get like that?” you ask
He shrugged, “I do somethin’ like that when I’ve taken a life too. That’s why I worried. Not sure why I do it.”
You place your hand on his cheek and brush away his hair,
“Did you at least feel everything?” you were curious
He blushed, “I felt it all, like I was in a wakin’ dream or somethin’”
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He kissed your forehead, “Did I do alright?”
You laugh, “Oh yes, I’d like to do it again please”
He chuckles at your words, but then sits up suddenly, “Shoot, what’s the time?”
You sit up with him and look at the wall clock near the door, “It’s 4:30, why?”
Tommy gets off the bed and shoves his dick in his pants, he searches for his shirt and mask then puts them both on. He turns to you and says,
“I told mama I’d be back t’help with supper! I gotta skitter on outta here ‘fore she gives me heck”
He sped out of the room but then ran back in, knelt down, removed his mask and kissed your lips followed by,
“I love ya baby, come on back home tomorrow ‘round evenin’ time. I’m fixin’ to show y’somethin’ that’ll make y’smile”
And with those words, he sprinted out of your house like a bat out of hell. You snicker to yourself -he calls his place home for me? How cute, he must consider it ours already-
You got off the bed and removed the sheets to wash, you got into the bathroom and started the shower to get cleaned up. You were surprised at the amount of cum Tommy had, it seemed like he had endless loads ready to go -He’d be a baby making machine if he wasn’t sterile… thank god for that-
You let the warm water blanket your skin as you loaded up the soap in a net sponge, you smiled to yourself thinking about his little kiss that he almost forgot to give you, -I wonder what he has to show me?
Next Chapter-
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kk095 · 9 months
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Maddie in Trauma
*Merry Christmas everyone! Here's my present to you. Hope you all enjoy!*
Through the automatic doors of the emergency department, a beautiful 33 year old woman arrived tethered to a gurney after being involved in a high speed crash on a chilly, rainy night. Her name was Maddie. She had bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, and stood at 5’5 with a slim build. Maddie was a conventionally attractive woman many would say was a solid 10, but that night, she was turning heads for all the wrong reasons. She laid on a backboard in a c-collar, stripped down to only her bra and underwear, littered in cuts, bruises, and abrasions. EKG electrodes were stuck onto her chest, and had IVs in both arms. The paramedics’ urgent chatter with our usual trauma team echoed the chaos of the accident that had left her in this vulnerable state. Maddie was awake and alert while being wheeled into the trauma bay, crying hysterically. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar environment full of complete strangers, wondering what was going to happen next. “on my count. One…two…THREE!” Dr Lindsay’s voice called out, echoing in the room, taking charge of the situation.
Maddie then laid under the large overhead light on the trauma room table. The room was loud and hectic. Monitors were beeping and chirping fast and loud, and the members of the trauma team were all barking orders at one another. It was all happening so fast for Maddie. She was just driving to meet some friends for a night out, and now she was fighting for her life in the ER just a short while later. Maddie’s chest slammed into the steering wheel during the accident, and as a result, she felt a tearing pain in her chest, along with shortness of breath. She had never experienced this level of pain before, and knew she was hurt bad, and that frightened her. “am I gonna die?!” a terrified Maddie asked nurse Nancy, who connected a bag of blood products to Maddie’s IV line nearby. “it’s ok sweetie, you’re gonna be fine. Just stay calm and let us take care of you, ok?” Nancy replied in a soothing, reassuring voice. “My chest!...it hurts so much…” Maddie replied, still sobbing. “we’re gonna take a look hun. It’s all gonna be ok!” Nancy again reassured, gently stroking the frightened lady’s blonde hair for a brief moment. “I don’t wanna die…” Maddie sobbed, grabbing Nancy’s hand, holding it. “you’re not gonna die sweetie, it’s ok.” Nancy calmly replied.
Over the coming minutes, Maddie began to decompensate rapidly. Her blood pressure had taken a free fall, and her heart rate was increasing at an alarming rate. Maddie began spitting up blood, her eyes wide with fear, knowing something was terribly wrong inside her. The tearing pain was 10 times worse, and Maddie felt as if her heart was going to leap right out of her chest. “pressure’s dropping. Hang another round of o-neg to the rapid infuser.” Dr Lindsay ordered. Maddie’s mouth was suctioned out since her airway had become a bit obstructed from all the blood that had entered the area. She laid on the gurney staring upwards, beginning to zone out, taking rapid, shallow breaths. Maddie fought with everything she had left in her over the next minute or two to remain conscious, but she couldn’t do it anymore. She let out one final calm exhale. Her rapidly rising and falling chest was completely still now. Her eyes still wide open, now glazed over. “Maddie? You there hun?!” nurse Nancy shouted, doing a sternal rub. Maddie didn’t even react to the sternal rub. Her eyes just stared upwards, her mouth ajar. “no pulse, someone start CPR.” Dr Sarah announced to the team. Maddie’s bra was snipped off and her perky, C cup tits spilled out. Nurse heather then placed her hands on the center of Maddie’s bare chest and began pumping away hard and fast. At the head of the bed, Dr Sarah was placing an ET tube in Sarah’s airway. The tube was navigated in place quickly, and held in place with tape.
When the code had started, Maddie was in pulseless electrical activity, so CPR, ambu bagging, and IV meds were all the team could do. The beautiful blonde’s chest caved in and recoiled, her belly bouncing outwards. Her tits bounced and jiggled around, and 1 arm dangled off the side of the table, lightly bouncing in sync with the chest compressions. Her head bobbed and lolled, while her beautiful blue eyes were still wide open, with an ET tube hanging out the side of her mouth. At the other end of the table, her feet gently swayed and wobbled in time with the compressions. Maddie had size 9 soles with plenty of soft, silky, prominent wrinkles throughout- another asset to her already perfect appearance.
The trauma team had gotten to the 10 minute mark of the code with no improvement whatsoever, so Dr Lindsay had ordered an echocardiogram to see what was going on inside the stunning blonde’s chest. Lindsay looked over at the ultrasound monitor and saw cardiac tamponade, with some blood clots floating around in the mix. At that point, Lindsay decided to perform a left anterolateral thoracotomy in an attempt to get this life threatening tamponade squared away, then restart the hot blonde’s heart. Betadine was squirted all over Maddie’s chest, staining it and orangey brown sort of color. Lindsay picked up the scalpel and made a quick, decisive incision beginning slightly to the left of Maddie’s sternum, extending the cut across the left half of her chest, underneath her perky left breast, and ending a few inches away from her left armpit. Lindsay then incised the underlying tissue further, and placed a rib spreader into the large, freshly made cut in Maddie’s chest. The knob on the spreader was turned, forcefully prying apart Maddie’s ribs over the coming moments. Once the 33 year old blonde’s chest was cracked open, there was no rush of blood. Her boggy, fibrillating heart twitched weakly and erratically in plain sight. Lindsay reached into Maddie’s chest and examined the heart, noting it felt a lot heavier than normal. Lindsay made a cut in the thick, fibrous lining around the heart and peeled it back, delivering the heart itself and attempting to relieve the tamponade. Thick, gooey, clotted blood oozed out at first, which was suctioned away, only to be instantly replaced with bright red arterial blood. The area was once again suctioned out to reestablish the line of sight, and Lindsay placed a vascular clamp on the descending part of the aorta near the diaphragm to quell any bleeding in the area and redirect blood flow to critical parts of the body. The clamp temporarily stopped the rush of arterial blood, but Lindsay didn’t know where it was coming from. Lindsay began investigating, poking, prodding, and reaching around inside the blonde’s chest cavity, but came up empty during her initial efforts.
The team noticed Maddie was still in v-fib despite the meds and initial internal resus efforts, so the internal paddles were called for. The large, spoon shaped paddles were charged to 20 joules and lowered into her chest. A dull, wet thump was heard when the shock was delivered. Maddie’s body twitched sharply for a moment before falling limp. “no change, charge again to 30.” Lindsay called out. The high pitched electrical sound of the paddles charging filled the room for a moment, then shock #2 was delivered. Maddie’s heart stopped for a brief moment, then started twitching uselessly once again. The internal defibs were charged again to 30, and another shock was delivered. Maddie’s toes curled at the other end of the table, showing off the fresh coat of black nail polish and her hot, wrinkly soles once again. “still nothing, charge again to 40.” Dr Lindsay called out. The paddles were placed back around Maddie’s twitching heart, and a shock was promptly delivered. Her torso flopped abruptly, her tits shaking, her lifeless blue eyes stared helplessly above. “No change, resume internal massage.” Dr Lindsay called out. This time, Dr Sarah took over internal massage. Perhaps a different set of hands and a different pair of eyes can figure out what the exact cause of Maddie’s arrest was. Sarah could feel the blonde’s heart squirming around in her hands while she massaged it. While performing cardiac massage, she also tried to feel around to see if anything felt out of place. “something’s not right in the posterior portion of the left ventricle. Feel that.” Sarah said to Lindsay. Lindsay reached into Maddie’s chest and worked her hands to the spot Sarah had discovered. “yeah. Something isn’t right, I see what you mean.” Lindsay agreed, but still couldn’t quite figure out what was going on.
Lindsay and Sarah had investigated the area for a bit, but couldn’t draw a conclusion. Since Maddie was still in v-fib, they had opted to shock her again. Sarah performed a cycle of internal massage, and Lindsay got the paddles readied, charging them to 40. The paddles were lowered back in, and the next jolt of electricity went straight into the hottie’s heart. Maddie’s feet kicked around at the opposite end of the table, wrinkling up the soles of her feet once again. “still nothing, hitting her again at 40. Everyone…CLEAR!” Lindsay shouted. KA-THUNK. Maddie’s limp, lifeless body jolted around for a brief moment, but v-fib was still winning this battle. Lindsay shocked the beautiful patient with the internal paddles another 4 times to no avail, so Sarah decided to push more meds and perform a cycle of internal massage. While performing internal massage, Sarah felt a long, thinner, fleshy structure poking one of her fingers. “huh? What is that?” she thought. “charging paddles to 40.” Lindsay called out. “hold on a sec…” Sarah told Lindsay, as she held the blood soaked paddles in her hands. Sarah felt the structure with the tips of her fingers and it all dawned on her. Sarah took her hands out of Maddie’s chest and immediately peeled her gloves off, looking over at Lindsay. “massive aortic dissection. It ripped off the left ventricle almost completely and got trapped. She bled out into the pericardium that way.” She tells Lindsay. Sarah pauses, looks over at the clock, then continues. “time of death, 21:17.”
Lindsay places the internal paddles back onto the crash cart, and nurse Nancy detached the ambu bag, a small amount of air hissing out when the bag is detached while Maddie’s eyes remained open, which was an eerily beautiful sight. The monitors were turned off, and the EKG electrodes were plucked off the lady’s chest. A blue surgical drape was hastily thrown over the thoracotomy site while Maddie’s heart fired off its last handful of desperate, useless signals. Maddie’s eyes stayed open when her body was covered up, looking almost as if she was watching the trauma team’s basic postmortem care on her. Lastly, a toe tag was filled out and placed on the big toe of her left foot. The tag dangled in front of her perfect, wrinkly soles while the trauma team exited the room, bringing a heartbreaking end to her case.
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hippolotamus · 10 months
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Fuck it Friday 🌻
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 (do yourself a favor and visit their FIF posts. promise you won't regret it)
no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @ladydorian05 @wikiangela @malewifediaz @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @stereopticons @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @monsterrae1 @spagheddiediaz @spotsandsocks @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @hoodie-buck @the-likesofus @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @exhuastedpigeon @underwater-ninja-13 @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz and anyone else who wants to
so i kinda got this idea. it's more than likely going to the backburner for a while (i have got to finish the stuff i already started) anyway, i came across this post that was adorable af (some screenshots below)
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brain said 'huh. what if a young Eddie wants to take young Evan on a date? and then gets shamed for it. because of course he does. and then Eddie has to work through all his crap as an adult so he can then ask Buck on a date?' so i'm dumping what i have under the cut. mwah!
Eddie sits on the end of his parent’s bed, kicking his bare feet in time with a song only he can hear. He can’t remember the name, only the basic rhythm that his music teacher, Ms. Hughes, taught them. 
Tap Tap Thump! Tap Tap Thump! 
The wooden footboard is starting to bother his heels, turning them a faint red, but he continues tap-thumping along, not ready to stop just yet. It keeps him busy while his mama gets ready for a night out with Papa.
“What do you think, Eddito?” She asks, meeting his gaze in her vanity mirror.
She holds up two different earrings. One is tiny, barely visible between her fingers except for the way it sparkles in the light. The other is bigger, in a sort of loop shape with a jade stone at the bottom that matches her green dress. He thinks she looks pretty with both of them, but he remembers his dad boasting about the tiny one being a real diamond. Eddie’s not sure what that means. It seems important though if the way Papa looked was any indication.
Papa was so proud when he gave them to her after his last business trip, practically beaming. Mama wasn’t quite as pleased. Not like she was when Eddie and Sophia gave her the jade pair for Christmas. Maybe she was just tired that day? She usually is when Papa goes away for work. 
“The sparkly ones,” he tells her confidently. If Papa knows Eddie helped choose them for tonight, maybe it’ll help him earn some extra time for catch tomorrow. 
Eddie’s been extra helpful this week, helping Mama look after Sophia, setting the table, and dusting around the house before his dad came back from Houston. Hopefully Mama will mention that, too. He might only be nine but he’s getting bigger all the time (Abuela tells him so) and can do a lot more things than his little sister.  
“Thank you, mijo.” She tucks her long hair behind her ears so she can put the earrings in. 
He rearranges himself on the bed so he’s on his belly with elbows bent, chin resting on his open palms. His feet automatically restart their rhythmic drumming. 
Mama picks a lipstick and carefully swipes the brilliant red across her lips. She pinches them together a few times before she’s satisfied, swapping the small tube for a square container and something that looks like a funny, fluffy paint brush. He watches her swirl the brush and lift it to her cheeks, tinting them a dusky pink. 
“Where are you and Papa going?” 
“Out for dinner at a nice restaurant. Maybe some dancing.”
“Why?” He asks, not particularly sure why he suddenly wants to know. Tia Pepa is babysitting tonight, which means a bowl of ice cream neither of them will ever admit to while they watch telenovelas.
“He’s been traveling and it’s a nice way to celebrate when he comes home.”
“Because, Edmundo.” Papa glides through the doorway, like he was waiting for the perfect moment, stopping to stand behind Mama. “You’ll figure this out when you’re older, but date nights are key to keeping everyone happy. Especially your mother.” 
He tilts her chin up, leaning down for a kiss. Gross. 
“Ramon,” she scolds. “Now I have to fix my lipstick.” 
Papa sighs playfully. He turns to Eddie, shrugging as if to ask what are you going to do?
“So a date is just going out to a fancy restaurant? For no reason?” Eddie muses aloud. The whole thing sounds a little boring and undeserving of a special title. 
“It can be,” Mama says. “Or it can be some other activity. People go out just because and for meaningful days, too, like an anniversary or birthday. As long as you’re with someone special, it can be whatever you decide.”
Oh. Well that changes things. 
“Like laser tag and pizza?” 
“Sure,” Papa answers with a chuckle while he digs through a dresser drawer. 
An idea begins to form in his brain. His best friend in the whole world, Evan, is moving at the end of the summer, just weeks away. Evan and his sister, Maddie, have lived next door as long as he can remember. He and Eddie do everything together. Other than his family, there’s nobody more special than Evan.
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