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lisbeth-kk · 4 months

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May Prompts (28) Empty

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 28)

Summary: Will Rosie be able to keep her secret from her parents until the big day?

Twenty-Eight Years Old

Seen in hindsight, the trip to Greece was a catalyst of what came later. On our last evening, Timothy and I had dinner at an almost empty restaurant on the cliffs of Fira. The sun was about to set, and the sea was bathed in colours of gold. When Timothy took my hands in his and asked me to marry him, it really was the perfect ending. Cliché, perhaps, but who cares? Luckily, he hadn’t bought the rings at one of the ridiculous jewellers on the island but brought them with him from London. (I said yes, by the way.)

***

As if faith wanted me to keep my secret from my parents, they were away on a three-week trip to New Zealand when we arrived back in London. I called Dee before I went to Baker Street to collect mail and check the fridge for outdated milk and decayed body parts. She had closed for the day, but when I called with my inquiry, she was instantly intrigued and asked me to pop into 221A before I left.

It was strange to see someone else living at Nana’s. Her old furniture had been donated to second-hand shops, new wallpaper, art, and futuristically designed chairs, tables and shelves made 221A look like something taken out of Star Trek or whatever. The kitchen and bathroom were recognisable with bits and bobs I remembered. Nana’s oven mittens, the kitchen utensils and the wallpaper. Over the kitchen table was a big photo of Nana.

“I’ve made some sketches for you,” Dee said after she’d inquired about the trip. “One on each shoulder, yes?”

She showed me her drawings and after some discussion, she made the adjustments I wanted.

“See you tomorrow at six,” Dee said when I left.

“Can’t wait!” I retorted excitedly.

***

Dee’s Den was everything you don’t expect a tattoo-studio to be. (At least if you’ve never set foot in one.) Airy, spacious and clean in the extreme. The first time I entered, I felt I needed to take my shoes off.

“No customer of mine will suffer from an infection. I’ve seen enough of that shit,” Dee said gravely.

Her improved sketches had been coloured when I arrived the next day, and they looked even better than I’d dreamt of. The tattoos would adorn each shoulder. One red poppy on the left, and a bee on the right. A t-shirt would cover them, and by the time Dad and Papa were back, they would’ve healed properly so I didn’t need to wrap them in plastic, and the soreness would be gone. I hoped to keep them a secret until the wedding day. My dress would be sleeveless and make sure to show off the tribute to my beloved parents.

***

We decided on a May wedding, and it was Dee’s idea to check if the venue from Nana’s funeral was available.

“She would’ve been so pleased that you all had some good memories from that place. Dancing and laughing, celebrating love.”

Both me and Timothy loved the idea, and we were in luck. Normally, the place needed to be booked at least a year and a half in advance, when it came to weddings, but they’d had a cancellation due to a broken engagement. Nine months to prepare.

***

I chose Liwia as my maid of honour. We had stayed in touch over the years, and she adored my parents, after they’d given her shelter when she needed it in the middle of her teens. Bella had been switched for Iris. They’d been together almost eight years, and Iris was six months pregnant with their first child. An unknown donor was the father.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you were traumatised when you stayed with us,” I said on the final fitting of our dresses.

“What do you mean?” Liwia asked, clearly puzzled.

“Board games,” I explained dryly.

She laughed wholeheartedly and admitted that she’d never played Scrabble, Cluedo, orMonopoly, but stuck to chess and card games.

“Wise choice,” I retorted with a grin. “Though I have experienced knights, queens and bishops being thrown across 221B.”

***

My uncles picked me up at the salon where I’d been styled and dressed. Uncle Myc cocked an eyebrow when he saw my tattoos, but he was unable to hide how moved he was by this permanent gesture. Uncle Greg…well, he wasn’t that subtle, and needed a stern talking to from his husband to avoid ruining my dress and hair when he teared up and embraced me.

“You’re going to destroy them with this, love,” uncle Greg murmured.

I hadn’t been nervous before, but when the familiar place came into sight, my palms started to sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. Inside, Timothy and my parents waited. The most important people in the world, apart from the men helping me out of the car. I kissed them and let them go in first to find their seats. One of the staff stood waiting for me to open the door once I’d decided to enter.

For a while I just stood there, my head blessfully empty. And then out of nowhere a wave of emotions washed over me. The memories of all the preparations and anxiety of the last week, regarding the flowers, the last seat arrangements we had to change the day prior, one of my shoes that disappeared without a trace…

“Come on, Watson. You can do this,” I interrupted myself, using Papa’s former name on me to get me out of the unending loop of trifles and keep me focused.

I nodded to the man by the door who opened it for me, and I slowly made my way down the corridor to where Dad and Papa waited. They stood hand in hand outside the door to the ceremony room and turned abruptly when they heard my heels on the wooden floor.

“You look…”

“Oh, Bee…”

They were both teary-eyed, which didn’t bode well. I hoped they’d piled up with tissues, because this well would not be emptied any time soon.

With my heels on, I was the height of Dad. I seldom wore high-heeled shoes, so it was an alien feeling to stand face to face with him, literally speaking.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear when he hugged me.

“Thank you,” I said and turned to Papa.

He’d frozen and he blinked profusely. Dad looked worried at him. He still hadn’t seen the tattoos. Papa’s eyes darted between them, clearly shocked to the core. I took his hand and squeezed it.

“Do you like them?” I asked quietly.

“Like what?” Dad inquired; his eyes hadn’t left Papa’s face during all of this.

“Look at me, Dad,” I said and finally he saw what Papa had seen minutes ago.

“Oh, my god,” he said and covered his mouth with his hand. “Rosie.”

“They are…” Papa clearly knew but was too shaken to believe what he’d deduced.

“Yes, Papa. They are. My tribute, homage, or whatever you want to call it. To you and Dad. To show you and everyone how much you mean to me. Dee made them while you were away. You have no idea how proud I am that I’ve managed to keep it a secret until now.”

Finally, out of his daze, Papa cupped my face and kissed my forehead and cheeks, careful not to disturb my hair or makeup.

“My precious girl,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“Stop! You’re making me cry,” I protested and tried my best to stay composed.

Dad sniffled and batted his eyes with a handkerchief.

“I’m never going to survive this day,” he muttered.

“John!” Papa exclaimed. “Don’t you dare.”

I knew I had to take the lead, or we would be stranded outside that door forever.

“Come on. The game is afoot,” I teased.

Also available on AO3

YES, there will be a continuation tomorrow.

This is also my entry for this month's Sherlock Challenge and the prompt ink.

@calaisreno @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 28: empty #sherlock challenge #ink #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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pagemasters · 6 months

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Fantasies He…

BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!

Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao

I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing

I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it

If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)

Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO

I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY

Summary:

Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…

CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING

The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings.

The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her.

Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand.

“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside.

“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work.

“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”

She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth.

Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication.

It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical.

“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”

“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”

She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time.

“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?”

“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”

“He did not.”

“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”

“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face.

“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”

“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”

“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.”

“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling.

Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone.

As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?”

“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural. “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.”

Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking.

On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule.

“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at.

“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up.

The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him.

He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”

“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”

Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have.

His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her.

To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars.

Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall.

“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”

“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours.

“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”

He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them.

But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?”

So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him.

“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”

“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue.

“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”

He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”

“Just trust me.”

He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible.

Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”

Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce.

“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”

At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”

With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped.

Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first.

“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail.

“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.

“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”

He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall.

“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”

A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.

He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far.

His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.

“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”

She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.

“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed.

Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason.

Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind.

The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone.

Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.

What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long.

At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him.

That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did.

Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal.

And she’s…

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

#elriel #sarah j maas #Baby’s first fic #Fluff #platonic love #bob Ross who?#There will be smut I promise #Az has baby fever?#elain archeron #feyre archeron #azriel

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 1 year

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [25]

chapter twenty-five, act three: so far (it's alright)

masterlist

March 3rd 2015

“No, no, no, no. No.”

Tommie groans rolling her eyes a she yawns loudly, “Rod-”

“No, please don’t lecture me right now, just- just let me rant.”

She doesn’t argue, just falls back onto the cushions behind her as he turns to Adam, “I need more… more emotion.”

“More emotion?” Adam asks, rubbing his hand from how long he’s been holding his guitar. This is the eighth time in the last three hours (yes, he has been sitting in the booth for three hours with no break) that Matty has interrupted his guitar solo in their new song they’re recording.

Adam runs his tongue across his teeth, “I have some emotion for you, Matty-”

“If you say anger-”

“It’s anger, that’s the emotion I have right now.”

Matty sighs, hands clasped in front of him, lips pursed as they rest on top of his fingertips like some sort of painter studying their muse.

His hair is tied up and his glasses are on his face, “Okay, yes, channel the anger, it’s a song about the patriarchy-”

“Pretty sure it's a song about your narcissism.” Tommie pipes up from the floor and he kicks at her foot as he passes, slapping an asleep George on the shoulder causing him to jump awake.

Tommie rolls over, head propped up on her hand to look over at Ross who's lounging on the only settee in their little makeshift studio in London.

“You relaxed over there?”

He grins, “Very, might just have a nap.”

“Yeah, have one for me.” She groans getting up and grabbing the guitar from Adam to take his place, “What if I do the solo?”

Everyone looks at her slowly and she shrugs, “What?”

“You never want to do solos.”

“I believe you said, ‘why would I solo when I don’t feel yolo?’.”

“That’s such nonsense, why would I say that?”

She did say it. Yesterday. After Adam begged her to do it since Matty had already been on his arse about it.

Matty sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, whatever, I don't care, just someone do it.”

She shoos him out of the studio and puts the headphones on, they push her hair up awkwardly and when she catches sight of her reflection in the window she pats down the little Elvis styled quiff. She listens to the drum beat they’ve been working on the past week through the headphones, her head bobbing along to the beat.

Her fingers make quick work, instead of playing what Adam had been doing she lets her mind wander, moving with the beat of the drum line instead of the bass where she thinks is maybe what Adam was struggling with.

Matty swings open the door running over to her, she barely has time to put the guitar down before they’re on the floor and he's peppering kisses all over her cheeks and forehead, “You are my favourite person in the studio right now. That’s exactly what I imagined.”

She pushes him off of her and lifts herself up, smiling at Adam who mimes, ‘thank you’ through the glass.

She checks her phone for the time, 3:33 am, sighing as she stretches until her back pops, Ross distantly yelling his annoyance at her habit, “Call it a night?”

“No, wait, we have to finish-”

“Matty,” She says, turning to him and taking his hands in her own, “Everyones exhausted, it’s only been three days and we’ve almost finished the first song on the list, we’re on track, we’re not going to fall behind. And if we don’t all have a good night's sleep, in an actual bed, then we’re not gonna go much further than that.”

He sighs, head falling to rest on her shoulder as she moves her hands up and down his arms, tracing over his tattoos, “Yeah?”

His voice is muffled into her top as he repeats the word back to her.

“You tired?” She asks softly.

“No-” His word is broken off by a yawn and he brings a hand up to cover his mouth as he watches the rest of the guys start packing up.

“Come on, I’ll drive us back.”

“I’m okay.”

“If you fall asleep at the wheel and we die, I’ll kill you.”

She snatches the keys from his hand, collecting only her phone and jacket, leaving her bag here for tomorrow as she collects the boys one by one.

She drops Adam off at his place, promising to pick him up later than scheduled so he can have a nice lie in, then she drops Ross off at the end of their street before parking in the car park.

She’s staying with George and Matty for the next couple weeks as they record, it saves for the journey up and down, and she's hoping they’ll finish earlier than planned so she can go home to her own place.

When she gets in, George goes straight to his room, placing a kiss on her head and thanking her for driving before disappearing.

Matty comes up behind her as she's kicking her shoes off to wrap his arms around her and lazily lean himself on her. She pushes him off for long enough to line her shoes up with the skirting boards that are lining their flat walls. As soon as she’s standing upright again, socked feet on the cold floor, Matty’s arms are around her again.

“Go to bed.”

“Okay,” He whispers quietly, letting her go to walk to this room, “Do you-”

“Bed.”

He nods and closes his door making sure not to close it completely like George had as she lies out on their settee.

It probably takes her five minutes after her head hits the pillow to fall asleep, she’s not sure how long it is when her name is whispered and she’s shaken awake from her dreamless slumber.

It's still dark, and she feels groggy. That's how she knows she hasn’t been there long.

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Watch a film with me?”

“It’s like four in the morning.”

He shrugs, “It’s four thirty.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep.” He whispers, then when she looks up to see him, where he’s sat on the coffee table watching her, she sees the desperation in his eyes, “Please?”

He picks at the skin on his hand and when her eyes drift down to it he notices, pulling the sleeves of his crew neck over his hands to stop himself.

She nods and goes to pull herself up but he shakes his head, “Don’t, don’t get up, it’s okay. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have woken you up-”

He stands and she reaches for his hand, turning onto her side she pats the cushion and he sits there beside her. Her stomach is pressed into his side and she lifts one leg to slide under him.

“It’s fine. What movie?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know.”

She’s still holding his hand, thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of it. She looks up at him, his long curly hair falling over and covering his eyes.

“Okay, you pick one and I’ll-”

“Stay right here, it’s okay, you don't have to move.”

He moves to get the remote, putting the volume right down as George is sometimes a light sleeper.

Then he slides down to sit on the floor but she tugs at his collar, “Come up here.”

“I won’t fit.”

“You will, come on.” She pushes herself back into the cushions and he awkwardly lies in front of her. She wraps her arms around him pulling him back into her chest, her legs fitting in between his.

Button perks up from the armchair she’s been sleeping on and jumps up with them, curling herself up behind their slightly bent knees.

Matty lifts the remote, looking through the channels until he settles on some old American war movie on the history channel.

Tommie yawns, forehead resting against his neck as she plays with his long hair.

“Any reason you can’t-” She breaks herself off with another yawn, “Can’t sleep?”

He shrugs a little, his hands falling to where hers are on his stomach, “I don’t know. My head is going too fast.”

She unlaces one hand from his to lift it up to his forehead, rubbing slow circles into his skin until his eyes are fluttering shut.

“I feel like,” He shrugs a little, trying to find the right words, “Like we’re running out of time. Metaphorically, I mean we’ve completed three songs already last year, this new ones almost done, we have plenty of time. But I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“People. What they’ll think when this new one comes out, I mean they reacted-mostly- good to the first one. What if they’re disappointed. You know, what if their expectations are so high-”

“Are you happy with what we’ve done so far?”

So far they've completed UGH!, Paris, The Sound and are half way through Love Me. A few others songs are written, he also has some he won’t let any of them see yet.

“Very, it’s all gre-”

“So am I. And Ross, George, Adam, we all are. That's all that matters.”

He sighs before awkwardly twirling so they’re face to face, his nose brushes her, and when she yawns, bowing her head a little, his lips brush against her forehead, “Do you have any fears?” He asks, “About the album?”

She gives a playful scoff and nods, “Of course I do. I’m a right Anxious Annie, you know that.”

He lifts his hand, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm until they reach her face leaving goosebumps and a warm trail behind. Then he moves just his pinky finger across her cheek bone, dragging along until he pulls the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

She’s silent, holding her breath as her eyes stay on him, only him, and he whispers, “Show me yours, I'll show you mine.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

March 29th 2015

“Thanks for doing this.” Tommie says as they collect their luggage from the carousel.

Matty lifts his head in acknowledgement, “Yeah, I wanted to record out here anyway.”

She nods, “Still, thank you. It means a lot.”

“Tommie!”

She turns, smiling as they see Caleb through the crowd waiting for her. Matty watches the smile brighten just a little and he takes her suitcase nodding for her to go ahead.

She walks over to Caleb, letting his arms swallowing her into a hug as he sways them back and forth, “We finished it,” He tells her, “The EP, which means that for the next, however long , that you’re here, you and I-”

“Caleb, I’m here for work too, not just pleasure.”

“But, I’m done now, we can spend a little more time together.” He sighs taking her hands, “I know things between us have been… rough lately, but-”

“I know, and I’m happy for you guys, can’t wait to hear it, but I have recording to do too. We have to go straight there right now, you can come if you want.”

He steps back, “Uh,” He glances up at the rest of the band as they approach, eyes meeting Matty’s who's staring right at him, “I’m good, got plans with the guys, see you for dinner tonight?”

She nods, leaning up on her tiptoes, instead of letting her meet his lips he turns his head so she kisses his cheek.

She purses her lips, trying not to allow her annoyance to show and clears her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I get it, we’re in the same industry, remember. I understand.”

“Same industry, different levels.” Matty says as he walks on ahead, sunglasses on ready when he sees the distant flashes outside of the airport.

Tommie pauses for a few seconds as Adam comes up beside her, “Let him go out and distract them, we’ll sneak on past quickly then.”

She nods watching Matty lift his hand to wave at the fans and paparazzi waiting, she goes to turn and grip Caleb’s hand but sees he's walked ahead already, slipping out unnoticed with no attention on him.

She groans and turns to Adam who holds his hand out for her to take, Ross pulls her hood up and covers her face making her giggle as he tightens the strings. “See?”

“No.”

“Exactly,” He grins, “You can’t see them, they can’t see you. Logic.”

George shakes his head, sliding his glasses on, “That is awful logic.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Tommie winces as the door is a little too loud as she closes it, she glances around the dark apartment, her backpack still on her shoulders and aeroplane clothes still being worn.

She yawns, checking the time on her phone, 5:32.

She drops her bag by the table and creeps towards Caleb’s bedroom, only he’s not there, the bed is empty, it’s been made and his bag and phone aren’t in their usual spots.

She blinks, trying to get rid of the jet lag she still feels from their long flight, never mind the added fourteen hours in the studio.

Taking her phone out she sends him a text.

To: Caleb

Where are you? X

Delivered 5:36

She sighs and looks around his room, it’s plain. White walls, three photo frames, one for each of his family members on the wall, a little wardrobe and a bed with a total of two pillows.

A noise in the kitchen startles her and she gets up quickly to go out into the kitchen.

She creeps out quietly, peeking through the little window, suddenly a head pops up and she jumps with a frightened gasp.

“Jesus!”

“Nope, just me.” James grins.

She holds a hand over her heart and shakes her head, “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, OJ?”

“No thanks.”

She leans through the opening to look at him, “Uh, where’s Caleb?”

“Oh, he tried calling you, did you get his message?”

She shakes her head slowly, “Friend of ours from back home, well, his childhood best friend is out here visiting, so he’s gone to see them, said something about staying at their hotel with them.”

She nods with a sigh and purses her lips heading for her bag, “You can just stay here, sleep in his room.”

“Gonna go back to the studio, left early anyway.”

James nods, “See you later then.”

“Ta-ra.”

“Who’s Tara?”

She sighs, closing the door behind her and getting her phone out. The line rings three times before he picks up.

“Can you come pick me up? Please.”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”

“Caleb’s place, he’s not here.”

“On my way.”

She smiles to herself as she heads downstairs, “Thanks, Matt.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

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floridaboiler · 1 year

Photo

52 years ago today, April 4, 1971, the final episode of Hogan's Heroes aired. It ran for 168 episodes from September 17, 1965, to April 4, 1971, on the CBS network. Bob Crane starred as Colonel Robert E. Hogan, coordinating an international crew of Allied prisoners running a Special Operations group from the camp. Werner Klemperer played Colonel Wilhelm Klink, the incompetent commandant of the camp, and John Banner was the inept sergeant-of-the-guard, Hans Schultz.

Hogan's Heroes won two Emmy Awards out of twelve nominations. Both wins were for Werner Klemperer as Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Comedy, in 1968 and 1969. Klemperer received nominations in the same category in 1966, 1967 and 1970. The series' other nominations were for Outstanding Comedy Series in 1966, 1967 and 1968; Bob Crane for Outstanding Continued Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Comedy Series in 1966 and 1967; Nita Talbot for Outstanding Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Comedy in 1968; and Gordon Avil for cinematography in 1968.In December 2005, the series was listed at number 100 as part of the "Top 100 Most Unexpected Moments in TV History" by TV Guide and TV Land. The show was described as an "unlikely POW camp comedy.

Hogan's Heroes was filmed in two locations. Indoor sets were housed at Desilu Studios, later renamed as Paramount Studios for Season Four and then Cinema General Studios for Seasons Five and Six. Outdoor scenes were filmed on the 40 Acres Backlot. 40 Acres was in Culver City, in the Los Angeles metropolitan area. The studios for indoor scenes were both located in Hollywood, CA. Undoubtedly, one of the most original and curious aspects was to create the effect that there was always a snowy winter, something unusual in warm Southern California, but normal in the German winter. The actors had to wear warm clothes and frequently act like they were cold, even though it was warm for much of the year and usually hot during summer.

Although it was never snowing on the film set and the weather was apparently sunny, there was snow on the ground and building roofs, and frost on the windows. The set designers created the illusion of snow two ways: the snow during the first several seasons was made out of salt. By the fourth season, the show’s producers found a more permanent solution and lower cost, using white paint to give the illusion of snow. By the sixth and final season – with a smaller budget – most of the snow shown on the set was made out of paint.

After the series ended in 1971, the set remained standing until it was destroyed in 1974 while the final scene of Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS was filmed

The actors who played the four major German roles—Werner Klemperer (Klink), John Banner (Schultz), Leon Askin (General Burkhalter), and Howard Caine (Major Hochstetter)—were all Jewish. Furthermore, Klemperer, Banner, and Askin had all fled the Nazis during World War II (Caine, whose birth name was Cohen, was an American). Further, Robert Clary, a French Jew who played LeBeau, spent three years in a concentration camp (with an identity tattoo from the camp on his arm, "A-5714"); his parents and other family members were killed there. Likewise, Banner had been held in a (pre-war) concentration camp and his family was killed during the war. Askin was also in a pre-war French internment camp and his parents were killed at Treblinka. Other Jewish actors, including Harold Gould and Harold J. Stone, made multiple appearances playing German generals.

As a teenager, Klemperer, the son of conductor Otto Klemperer, fled Hitler's Germany with his family in 1933. During the show's production, he insisted that Hogan always win against his Nazi captors, or else he would not take the part of Klink. He defended his role by claiming, "I am an actor. If I can play Richard III, I can play a Nazi." Banner attempted to sum up the paradox of his role by saying, "Who can play Nazis better than us Jews?" Klemperer, Banner, Caine, Gould, and Askin had all spent the real Second World War serving in the U.S. Armed Forces—Banner and Askin in the U.S. Army Air Corps, Caine in the U.S. Navy, Gould with the U.S. Army, and Klemperer in a U.S. Army Entertainment Unit. But the sitcom was not the first time Klemperer had played a Nazi: in 1961, he starred as the title character in the serious drama Operation Eichmann, which also featured Banner in a supporting role. Ruta Lee, Theodore Marcuse, and Oscar Beregi, Jr. also appeared in the film, each of whom went on to make several guest appearances on Hogan’s Heroes.

https://www.facebook.com/Retrovision

#Hogan's Heroes #On this day #this date in history #This Day in History #April 4 #Series Finale

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - who we are

Music blasting through your headphones, you bobbed your head to the beat as you looked through your locker for the drink you had put in there not long ago.

You were supposed to be in lesson, but you had been kicked out so now you were looking for something to drink and you couldn’t find where you had left it.

“Crap…” you mumbled.

Slamming the locker closed, you made your way towards the canteen to grab one from there and when you walked in, you pulled your headphones down.

“You should be in lesson.” Mrs Paracha said.

“I know, but I got kicked out. Do you have any juice?”

“Yes, yes. Go sit I bring over for you.”

You beamed at her and sat down at a table kicking your legs up on the chair opposite you as you waited for her to come through.

You drummed your hands against the table as you waited, following a small beat stuck in your head.

“So why you get kicked out this time?”

Mrs Paracha placed some juice and a plate of chips in front of you, and you moved your feet so she could sit down.

“Apparently I am disruptive and in many different ways very disappointing.”

You nibbled at a chip, grinning up at her.

“Who say this?!”

“I forget her name, the one who’s last name is the same as a fish, and kinda looks like one too.”

“Oi that not nice.”

“Neither is her calling me disappointing but yet here we are.” You shrugged.

Sipping the juice, you looked around the empty canteen and looked at Mrs Paracha, a small frown on your face.

“Do you think I’m a disappointment miss?”

“No, of course not. You are many things, but a disappointment not one of them. You just need to focus more on work.”

“I try, but they’re always shouting at me or telling me off for something. Sometimes I struggle and none of the teachers bother to help me.”

She sighed.

“Have you spoke to Mr Evershed? He can help you innit.”

You shrugged a little, eating another chip.

“He won’t bother, sees me like the rest of em, can’t look past the green hair dye, the piercings and the tattoos.”

“Why you like this look so much?” She asked.

“Well, I guess it makes me feel more comfortable. It gives me confidence, green is my favourite colour, and I’ve always wanted piercings. The tattoos I did myself or my friends dad did for me, since he owns a tattoo studio.”

“You want to tattoo people?”

You nodded excitedly.

“Oh yeah! I’d love to be a tattoo artist! Look!”

You rolled up your shirt sleeve and showed her the tattoo sleeve on your arm, gesturing to the trees, the river and the birds.

“I did this. Well, the outline, I couldn’t shade it all myself but I did most of it.”

Mrs Paracha took your arm in his hands and carefully examined it.

“I don’t understand all this, but this bloody amazing, you did this?”

You grinned and nodded, pulling a small notebook out your shirt pocket, you showed her the doodles you did each class.

“Do you think I can do it miss?”

“I think you bloody can, and I help, come with me.”

You grabbed your plate of chips and she grabbed your juice and notebook and you walked over to the counter.

“Do any of you lovely ladies have a plastic plate of something for my chips?”

“Here love, plastic bowl.”

She put your chips in the bowl and handed it back over and you beamed, walking through the hallways with Mrs Paracha towards the front of the school.

You both stopped when the fire alarm went off and she ushered you towards a fire exit.

“We carry on after.”

Nodding, you followed her to the fire point, and you stood next to her, bouncing on your feet as you ate your chips and talked to her.

You ignored everything that was going on, and you weren’t paying much attention to whatever was going on.

“We wait for everyone to go in, then we talk to Mr Evershed.”

“About what?”

“You and how teacher treating you. It’s not right.”

You gave the woman a soft smile.

Everyone began heading inside, and you set your bowl on a wall and took your juice back to sip it while you waited.

Mr Evershed walked over and crossed his arms as he looked at you.

“Oh Mr Evershed we looking for you, we need to talk about (Y/N).”

“Yes we do.” He said sternly.

You rose a brow at him and picked up your bowl again.

“Do you think this is funny? Setting off the fire alarm? Do you know how serious that is (Y/N)?”

“What?” You asked confused.

“Oh don’t play coy, Mrs Carp already explained what happened in her class. This is the third time this month you’ve pulled that fire alarm.”

“It wasn’t me!”

“You’re the only one who seems to pull it.”

“They with me, they done nothing wrong!” Mrs Paracha huffed.

“Miss, miss it’s fine. Leave it.”

You looked at Mr Evershed and scowled.

“You seriously think I did this? Check the cameras or something.”

“Well all the evidence points to you.”

“Right, because whenever something bad happens it’s my fault right?”

“You’ve got a track record for it yeah.”

You shook your head at him, clenching your jaw.

“I’ve been with Mrs Paracha the whole time! I didn’t do it!”

“So are you going to tell me you didn’t throw a chair across Mrs Carps classroom?”

“Well no, I did that, but I didn’t pull the fire alarm!”

“If you keep going down this road you’re going to end up exactly like your parents! You’ll end up either in jail or in some dead end job you’ll be stuck in! You need to take this seriously!”

You froze.

“Is that how you really see me? Just another kid who’s going to fail in life? Seriously?”

“At this rate we need to be honest with you. Yes. That’s where you’re heading, you have almost no passing grades, you’ve been suspended more times this year than anyone has in their entire school history.”

“You can’t say that!”

“Miss it’s fine, ya know what?”

You nodded head your head, giving a half shrug.

“You’re right. I’m going to end up exactly like my parents behind bars. You’re right yeah. I should just stop trying to be anything else, right?”

“No (Y/N) that’s not.. I didn’t mean..”

He fumbled for his words and you turned to Mrs Paracha.

“Thanks for the chips.”

You turned to Mr Evershed.

“Thanks for nothing.”

“(Y/N)! Walking away isn’t going to solve anything!”

“You’re right! But it’ll solve the fact I won’t have to deal with this crap you’re throwing at me for no reason!”

Throwing the bowl at him, you turned around and ran off, jumping over the fence to go back home and Mr Evershed sighed, picking up the bowl.

“You fix this! They good student, bloody brilliant. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

She slammed your notebook on the wall and stormed away to her office so she could try and get ahold of you.

Mr Evershed sighed, picking up the notebook he put it in his pocket and carried the bowl back inside.

They had to review the camera footage of both incidents, first was you throwing a chair, and they saw it go flying through the classroom door before you walked away.

“Where did they go after?” He asked.

“Locker then to the canteen where they stayed with Mrs Paracha.” Loraine said.

“And the fire alarm?”

“That would be this boy.”

She showed him who pulled the fire alarm and he nodded, asking her to figure out who that was he made his way back to his office.

He had blamed you because both time before this is had been you, so he jumped to conclusions, and in anger he was basically told you that you weren’t going to do anything with your life.

And he felt horrible.

He knew Mrs Paracha was right, he had to fix it, so he went to find her.

“Where can I find (Y/N)?” He asked.

Mrs Paracha slammed some paper on the table and glared at him.

“They good student, sometimes but angry but good student.”

“I know, I know, it’s why I’m going to try and sort this out. Thank you.”

First he tried your flat, but you weren’t home, then he tried the next address, a small bar, and he walked in.

“Hi I’m headteacher for Ackley bridge college, I’m looking for a student (Y/N) (L/N)?”

The woman behind the bar shrugged.

“Not scheduled to work till the weekend, try the studio.”

“Studio?”

“Here.”

She wrote down the address and he made his way there and walked inside the tattoo studio.

“Got an appointment?” A man asked.

“Oh Uhm no sorry. I’m actually looking for a student of mine (Y/N) (L/N)? I’m Mr Evershed, headteacher of Ackley bridge college.”

“Not seen the kid since this morning.” The man said.

He glanced up from the table he was setting up and stood up fully, and Mr Evershed involuntarily took a step back.

The man laughed a little.

“We’re not all criminals you know. I’ve not seen the kid since they stopped by before going to school, but I guess you can try the town centre, likes to go up there. I’m Dave, their legal guardian. Is everything alright?”

“There was an incident at the school, I just want to talk to them properly about it.”

Dave nodded his head and crossed his arms.

“So what did the kid do?”

“Nothing actually, well, not nothing they did throw a chair out a classroom, but that’s not why I’m looking for them.”

Mr Evershed sighed and explained the situation to your guardian, and Dave nodded his head along.

“So, basically you fucked up?”

“That’s one way to put it yeah. I’m trying to make it right.”

“Not a lot of people would, good on you. Look, I can’t help you find em, but just know they’re probably not alone, and if they’re with who I think they’re with, just.. be cautious.”

“Thank you.”

Mr Evershed left the studio, and his phone started to ring.

Someone had called the school about a student and some other people wondering about the town, so that’s where he went.

He was walking up and down the streets when he found you walking out of a shop and walked over to a group of slightly older looking people.

“Surprise.” He said.

You looked at him and glared.

“Get lost!”

You threw your bottle at him and he moved aside so it would miss.

“Come on, I just want to talk.”

“And I don’t.”

You began to walk away and he sighed.

“Can we talk (Y/N), please?”

One of the boys turned around and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly.

“Take a hint bro, they said no.”

“Kieran stop, stop it’s fine. He’s not some creep, just an asshole.”

The boy looked at you then to Mr Evershed.

“I don’t care, someone says no you drop it bro, got it?”

“Right I understand you’re concerned about them, but I’m their headteacher and we need to talk.”

You turned around.

“No we don’t. You said all you had to say, right? I’m going to be nothing but some lowlife criminal right? That’s what you think?”

“No that’s not what I think.”

“Well you basically said it!”

“And I was wrong, but can we please go somewhere where we can talk about this privately? Please?”

You ran a hand through your hair and shook your head at him.

“Don’t bother, not going back and don’t wanna talk neither.”

With that, you walked away and he sighed.

Mr Evershed went back to the school, and he pulled up everything he could find about you, grades, attendance, emails.

Anything he thought could help, and he spoke to Mrs Paracha as well, since she knew you better than anyone.

Then the following day, he was a man on a mission once more, searching the same places for you, and this time he found you near your flat talking to the post man.

The post man walked away and you looked through the post in your hands, leaning against the wall.

“This is stalking.” You said.

“No it’s not, it’s me being concerned about you and wanting to talk about what happened yesterday, and every other day in school.”

“Like I said, not going back so no point.”

You walked towards the door to your building and opened it.

“I know you want to be a tattoo artist, and I also know that the teachers at the school have been judging you based on your looks and behaviour, not your grades.”

You stopped, and turned around to look at him.

“Mrs Paracha spoke to you.”

“I asked her for help. I know you’re a smart kid, and you can get the grades if you tried, I’ve seen your test results, and homework in some classes. I just want to help you, and apologise for my ignorance yesterday. So, can we please talk?”

You turned around and held the door open for him.

“I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me be.”

“Don’t count on it.” He smiled.

He walked over and to him, this was progress, and he was hoping to make more progress by talking to you, but given how stubborn you could be, he knew it was going to be hard

#ackley bridge #ackley bridge imagine #ackley bridge x reader #ackley bridge x you #mr evershed x you #mr evershed imagine #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed

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mushtelid · 6 months

Text

so i changed my username!

rriverranger ↦ mushtelid

mushtelid as in mushroom + mustelid hehe

so i thought it was due time to update my intro (as well as the rest of my blog, check it out :3)

side note: i made this moodboard before i changed my username, so ignore the watermark :p still me!

personal blog: @goobwuzhere

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━

i go by dev, i’m 22, my pronouns are he/him and i am a taurus. i identify most comfortably with the term critter-hearted. i identify with st. bernards, bernese mountain dogs, raccoons, small clawed asian river otters, as well as mustelids as a whole (ferrets, minks, weasels, etc.). i also, in the past year, discovered my connection with being a ghost kin (leaning zombie kin as well). i created this blog as a safe place for this part of my life a few years ago, i hope it brings you comfort as well! my messages are open to all, as long as you are kind!

some extra stuff! ↷

kins: ellie from the last of us, bingo heeler from bluey, steve harrington from stranger things, lev from the last of us, nick nelson from heartstopper, darcy olsson from heartstopper, snufkin from moominvalley, finn mertens from adventure time, ponyo, and rapunzel from tangled.

media* i love: the last of us (game and show) (my special interest), the walking dead, bluey, studio ghibli, moominvalley, hilda, minecraft, heartstopper, the sims, stardew valley, stranger things, animal crossing, adventure time, coraline, bob's burgers, fruit's basket

things i love: cool muted brown/green color palettes, photography (editorial portraits and nature), fall scented candles, homemade mugs, tattoos, graphic novels and manga, rain & thunderstorms, big comfy sweaters and hoodies, stuffed animals, littlest pet shops, stars, space, the ocean, mushrooms, ferns & moss, dinosaurs, art

animals i love: otters, jellyfish, manta rays, giraffes, triceratops, dogs and cats, sunbears, highland cows

*media as in video games, movies, shows

pinterest (collective) - devan_et

instagram (critter-hearted) - @mushtelid

tumblr (journal) - @goobwuzhere

#therian #otherkin #otherhearted #mycology #fungi #dog kin #otherkinity #alterhuman #intro post #blog intro

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bastardblvd · 1 year

Note

okay lets see if this makes sense.

personal trainer Naoya// friends with benefits [and feelings(ew)]

sexercise, hints of masochism, unspoken feelies, implied infidelity? idkidk

"You're not trying hard enough."

Your growl tapers off with a huff as your calves tremble and ache. Your thighs are burning, and the balls of your feet are wailing for mercy. Each heavy pant echoes in the wide, poorly lit space of his "gym". It's no more than an extra room laden with gym mats and a set of weight machines that you're pretty sure are the same ones stolen from the high school last year.

Despite the fire in you being fanned by the lazy grin Naoya is feeding you right now, your body unfortunately taps out before your will does.

"---that's another fail, sweetheart." Naoya groans as your slick cunt swallows him again and stays this time. "You passed the six minute mark though, so I guess that's progress."

"Shut up," you gasp, grasping at his shoulders for balance as you readjust your aching legs, trying to let them rest. The tuft of hair blanketing the base of his cock tickles your throbbing clit and makes you hiss under your breath.

"No discount again this week," Naoya sighs, dripping with insincere sympathy, arms folding behind his head as his knees draw up and splay wide. Even though you know you're doing all the work, your pride takes a dent to see him so unaffected, and in turn your anger sparks into a fresh new color.

He's still smirking at you by the time your breath steadies, so you level a glare at him and rake your nails down his chest, hating the way your pulse jumps as his cock pulses inside you, even more so by the little moan he lets stay trapped in his throat.

You've give anything for him to let it escape.

Instead, you climb off of his dick with a masterfully crafted expression of disgust. "Piss off, Naoya." He clutches at his heart with a wince, quickly followed by a grin before flipping on his side, head propped up on his palm; his eyes make no effort to hide the way they follow the curve of your ass as you reach to snatch up your hastily discarded shorts. His hand smoothes over his cock with a small sigh, red and leaking where it bobs abandoned by your soaking warmth.

"You should've been able to do this by now, you know. Makes me wonder," Naoya drawls, low and pointed, and it makes you freeze. "If you're following the regimen I put together for you, that is. Boyfriend's helping you practice, yeah? I mean, you're my longest standing client by now, I'm almost starting to get a little disappointed... you know, unless you're messing up on purpose or something."

You glare down at him, trying to hide the stricken fluster in your face, as you yank your shorts up, sticky and wet and uncomfortable, paired with an unresolved, burning ache between your thighs.

"Dunno why you're so mad. Ride me for ten minutes, make me cum, and you don't have to pay for shit. Not hard, yeah?"

"You try riding a dick for ten minutes straight and see if you still get to flip that attitude at me," you snap, turning your back on him.

"You think I'd make you try something I haven't already done?"

When you whip back to look at him, the glint in his eyes makes it impossible to tell whether or not he's joking. Before you can even begin to ask, a wicked smile flashes across his face.

"Maybe there's more I can do for you. I do home lessons too. I could probably cut a deal for my favorite client, if you're interested that is."

"set of weight machines that you're pretty sure are the same ones stolen from the high school last year" I LOST IT ALREADY RYN 😭 freeloader!toji owed his little cousin one so he broke into grimetown high and jacked one of their weight machines. so naoya, being the snake he is, opened his own gym to compete with yuuji's basement gym (that doubles as choso's tattoo studio). this is insane. also not to bring my very real naoya fucker-ness into the chat but the whole "boyfriend's helping you practice, yeah?" i'm going to LOSE MY SHIT?? "you think I'd make you try something I haven't already done?" 😭😭😭

#THANK YOU RYN #THIS IS PERFECT #cw infidelity #stepdaddy merc #darlingsanzu #repeat offenders

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teenz-stories · 11 months

Text

Teen-Z: Forever Young #1: I Don’t Wanna Be Your Ex (Part 5)

Meanwhile Wiccy and Cody are inside the studio. Nerd girl now talks with the person who's seller of it. Finally Wiccy goes out.

Cody: And?

Wiccy: Three thousand Zeedollars if we want to borrow it for a month.

Cody’s eyes goes wide in shock

Wiccy: I have only 250 Zeedollars. Still I didn’t gotten my paycheck from my boss from that programing job I have.

Cody: I will check my donates but I don’t think I earned that much neither.

Wiccy: Donates? She raises her eyebrow up confused Wait. You’re a streamer?! Since when?

Cody: I thought that smoothie stand was earning kinda meh cash. So I started to do some game streams. Peoples pay me because they love seeing me getting mad over losing in the game. He checks his website 340 Zeedollars from four streams I did this month.

Wiccy: 590 Zeedollars. She smacks her lips It’s not enough. We gotta ask team. Or. She looks at Cody How much did you earned this month from that stand of yours?

Cody: looks at his pockets as he starts counting money Around 90 Zeedollars this week.

Wiccy: hisses between her teeth What about for whole month?!

Cody: shrugs laughing nervously

Wiccy: You spended all your money for the games,didn’t you?

Cody: I wanted to do content! Without any games my channel on ShiverTV wouldn’t make any sense!

Wiccy: starts calculating This makes 680 Zeedollars. We still need 2320. She pulls out her phone as she proceeds to call whole crew

After long moment of waiting whole crew appears.

Wiccy: How much did you all earned from your weekend jobs?

Mermaid steps out first showing her pastel pink wallet.

Mermaid: Well. From whole month working during weekends in the spa I earned 650 Zeedollars. It’s pretty good start,isn’t it? You need financial help from us to pay for the studio?

Wiccy: shyly nods

Mermaid: No worries. She gives Wiccy her money I have still money on my credit card.

Wiccy: again calculates This makes now 1330 Zeedollars. 1670 more. Who wanna help now?

Charlie steps out showing his dark-blue wallet.

Charlie: I work in tattoo studio.

Belze-Bob: nods showing everyone burning wheel tattoo on his shoulder He did awesome job last week on mine.

Charlie: I earned for this month 570 Zeedollars. He gives Nerd his money For the studio to give my girlfriend perfect music video.

Wiccy: Good. 1100 more. Who wanna share now?

Luvboy sighs coming to the front with his phone.

Alvin: I am amateur animator. And recently I opened on ICoffee my page where I post commission prices. The longer animation is,the more customer needs to pay. So for short clips I receive 20 Zeedollars. For 3 minutes long music videos you need to pay me 60 Zeedollars. However if you want to produce small episode of anything you like and it has over 10 minutes. Price goes already to 130 Zeedollars and more if you ask for details. So. For short clips during this whole month I gotten 120 Zeedollars. For music videos I gotten 300 Zeedollars. And from longer animation I gotten just 130 Zeedollars. One person only had guts to commission from me something longer. He then smiles weakly 550 for this whole month.

Wiccy: And by this we already get to 550 Zeedollars left. Who wanna help now?

Belze-Bob steps out to the front now showing his deep purple wallet.

Belze-Bob: I am grafitti artist in my free time. Government gave permission to me and Greeny to use walls in certain streets. I get from time to time requests. And I received for three arts just 160 Zeedollars. He sighs I'm sorry if this is too little.

Greeny: And I also earned same price for street art.

Belze-Bob and Greeny: Sorry if this is too small.

Both sighs in sadness as they both gives to Wiccy 320 Zeedollars.

Wiccy: Not everyone earns good cash from their weekend jobs. However congratulations. Only 230 Zeedollars left.

Light steps out next as he has in his hands his sombreo hat.

Light: I am street dancer. He laughs nervously You can check how much did I earned for this week.

Nerd counts the money as she takes in her pocket 140 more Zeedollars. She then takes from Creepy 90 Zeedollars.

Wiccy: confused Where did you get so much money?

Ninelle: shyly smiling Dark paid me for that Glitter High doll when I sold him.

Wiccy: Makes sense.

Seconds later she comes to the worker as she pays for the studio. Then she comes back with a huge grin.

Wiccy: Guess what. That previous guy wanted too much money.

Pinky: in fear And what? He demands more?

Wiccy: No. Don’t worry. Normally turns out this studio would cost just 900 Zeedollars. But by paying three thousand this studio now belongs to us!

Upbeat music plays as crew hugs themselves and do happy dance while Wiccy,Mermaid and Pinky stands at the back of the entrance to the studio smiling widely. Then Wiccy interrupts happy atmosphere.

Wiccy: This has a catch though. That guy said we can have it for good. But we need to pay them at least half of the price for Pinky’s songs.

Charlie: So he’s our sponsor?

Wiccy: You can say that.

Pinky: steps now to the front with confident stare Now,now! Break’s over! We have whole weekend to at least start something step by step!

Scene changes into already Monday. School’s bell rings for the break. On corridoors Pinky notices Alvin sketching final scene. Pinky bumps his arm gently.

Alvin: smiles gently Finished. I needed to drink coffee since drawing took me whole weekend. But it’s done.

He gives his sketchbook to Pinky. She gasps seeing results. Each drawing has detailed description at what happens on what time. Her admiring distracts Luvboy looking with sadness at her.

Alvin: Again I apologize for that mess I did on that Fashion Week few weeks ago.

Pinky: smiles gently Oh,Alvin. I’m not mad.

Alvin: I was this jealous that you didn’t spended with me time anymore. So I thought you don’t like me.

Pinky: hugs Luvboy I like you still. But now as friend. I got Charlie and... she tuts looking if he isn’t around He wouldn’t be happy if I would leave him.

Alvin: smiles through tears Still it’s good that you managed to even accept my apologies. Even if it was almost month after.

Pinky: lets Luvboy go So. Friends?

Alvin: takes Pinky’s hand Friends.

#fanfic #teen z #teen-z #teen-z fanfic #teen_z #teenz

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mesaryth · 11 months

Text

Last night i dreamt a new Bob Dylan song. It was one he always meant to write, but never got around to making. He listed all the horrifying, newly commercialized street corners of New York, London, and Paris; Tribeca, Hudson Yards, Bedford Ave and 7th, Rue Charlot in the Marais, that canal that's in East London. All these places had huge wheat-pastes promoting his new album. It was a black and white photo of his face with big text that said "DYLAN", right next to an ad for the new Jack Harlow bowl at Sweetgreen. He thought about making a song about these places, in an effort to prove to the listener that all art eventually becomes part of the machine, that everything transgressive is bought and sold as a commodity, that being transgressive is the least punk thing you could be, maybe even that the most punk person on the block is Jack Harlow, smiling on a billboard, happily eating his custom salad from Sweetgreen. Maybe it'd be cooler to not have that tattoo from that huge studio in [location]. The one right by the plant store that sells monstera plants for like 70 dollars. Yeah, that's where they're promoting Dylan's brand new album. He's pissed about it, he's not happy at all, he still has an excellent radar for who's cool (who's cool), who's a poser (who's a poser), who's a ripoff (who's a ripoff), who's a dreamer, he hasn't forgotten the beats, the lessons he learned along the road, and when he's in his Uber Black to Electric Lady Studios on 8th Street, he passes the newly condemned McDonald's that people only used to use as a bathroom. He passes Blank Street Coffee, and gets nauseous, cause right outside that Blank Street Coffee on the sidewalk is a massive ad for his brand new album. He wants to stop the car, walk up, rip it off the walls, sink his nails into the chipped green paint of the construction board behind it, tear at all the shreds and shed a tear about where did he go wrong. Is this what success is? To have your album promoted right by the Blank Street Coffee, where it used to be a cool stoop that you'd smoke cigs on? Tribeca, Hudson Yards (Tribeca, Hudson Yards), Bedford Ave and 7th, Rue Charlot in the Marais, that canal that's in East London, Tribeca, Hudson Yards, Bedford Ave and 7th, Rue Charlot in the Marais, that canal that's in East London, Tribeca, Hudson Yards (Tribeca, Hudson Yards), Bedford Ave and 7th (Bedford Ave and 7th), Rue Charlot in the Marais (Rue Charlot in the Marais), that canal that's in East London (that canal that's in East London), Tribeca, Hudson Yards (Tribeca, Hudson Yards), Bedford Ave and 7th, Tribeca, Hudson Yards...

#the location for the tattoo studio is the only word I can't hear properly no matter how many times i rewind..it sounds kind of like #livington but I don't think that's right

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senorincognito69 · 1 year

Text

Skincrawlers (woman into insect TF tale)

(Woman into insect)*

Witchcraft stores are a rather common business venture amongst covens and practitioners of the arkane, a store is, after all, the simplest way to offer your services to those that may desire them. You may not believe it, but one of those stores may be very near you, they may appear anywhere, even in a spot you thought was a Starbucks.

And they can just as easily go away.

The norm in such establishments is to offer the usual mix of magicks, trinkets and other witchey gizmos. Witches tend to be picky about their craft and the variety of spells, incantations and potions a store might offer will be as varied as the members of the coven are. Some witches may choose to focus on offering services rather than goods or goods rather than services. Others, being more entrepreneurial, even try to franchise their kind of boutique, perhaps turning them into spas or salons in which the product being sold is the pleasure of magic itself. There’s also, of course, the ones that, being skillful or comfortable with a particular magical gimmick. become specialised.

Such was the case of that tattoo studio.

From the outside it looked, for the most part, just like any other skin-inker shopfront that you may have seen before, maybe slightly odd, with a wacky name, and you wouldn’t recall having seen that tattoo place before, so it would stand to reason that it only opened recently, making it even more interesting.

If you enter you will be warmly welcomed and, after a short wait, when your turn comes, they will lead you to the back room of the store down a corridor. From the walls of the corridor hang several frames showing the art being offered. Beautiful pieces… shown in squares that seem to be made of skin, living skin, as if a person had been flattened and stretched into a canvas over a flat surface, reduced into faceless pieces of art… their genitals exposed, pussies, dicks, boobs, nipples and some buttholes from those that got their tattoo on their rear…

Subtle muffled moans will then follow.

Then you will reach the place where the magic happens.

One of the most interesting offerings from the studio is a tattoo that grants luck, a tattoo that must be in the form of a bug. An insect, arachnid, mollusk… some sort of lowly crawling lifeform. As long as the tattoo is on your skin lucky things will happen to you, but as those things happen the residual energy of your improved chances will gradually, slowly, accumulate in that bug on your skin.

Until…

Dina had a mantis tattoo on the back of her left thigh.

It wasn’t the only tattoo on her white skin, but it was the one that her existence was held upon. She was quite an alternative looking chick, with a short bob haircut dyed vivid red, multiple tattoos and piercings, in her lips, nose, ears, nipples… cunt… A very curvy woman about to enter her thirties, with an ample bust and ample hips, juicy ass and juicy boobs. She was walking out of a steamy shower, smirked and winking at her foggy reflection in the mirror, before leaving the bathroom barefoot and holding a towel across her tits.

Carlota, Dina’s roommate, was sitting on the couch in her pyjamas, doing mindless net surfing. She groaned when she saw Dina enter the living room.

“Yikes, bitch, could you put on some pants at least?” she growled after the redhead moved her big butt in front of her. “I don’t need to see your fat ass every day!”

They had been friends and living together for more than half a decade. On that day Dina had a date… with Carlota’s ex.

“Then go live somewhere else!” the redhead answered, chuckling. “I’m thirsty!”

Dina went towards the kitchen, unfortunately her towel was a bit too long and luckily her feet stepped over the fluffy cloth. She squeaked, losing her balance and fell forward, slamming against the floor boobs first. After the short initial shock Carlota burst into laughter watching her pal laying naked and spread on the floor.

“Maybe you should walk on all fours like a pig!” she gloated.

The redhead groaned, rubbing her sore tits as she got up onto her knees. She was about to bark something back at Carlota’s laughter, when she noticed something on the dusty floor under the couch. Squinting her eyes she leaned forward, stretching her arm between carlota’s legs.

Carlota frowned.

“What the heck are you doing now?” she asked, putting her legs on the couch.

Dina didn’t answer until she managed to reach the edge of her objective with the tip of her fingers. Her rear raised up, her boobs pressed against the floor, she stuck her tongue out, stretched out with the nails, slid the paper along the floor…

“Aha!” triumphantly she pulled a fifty dollar bill from beneath the couch, not caring about her nudity as she stood up, one hand on her waist and the other proudly showing off her find. “Am I a lucky whore or what?”

Carlota’s mouth dropped open.

“Hey…!” she babbled. “Hey! Those are the fifty bucks I lost last week!”

The redhead giggled, shaking the money in front of her roommate’s eyes.

“Na! Na! Nana! Finders keepers, bitch!” Dina stepped back, holding the bill with both hands, admiring it. “He, he, guess I’m gonna woo your ex with some extra sweets tonight!”

Carlota was furious, but her anger was distracted by something else… something that made her frown… she raised her hand… and slapped Dina’s left thigh from behind.

“AY! HEY!” Dina cried in pain, jumping away. “You moron! I was gonna give you the money back, but now I’m keeping it!”

“No!” Carlota swore from the edge of her seat. “I saw something moving under your ass! A bug or something!”

“What?!” the redhead tried to bend to see her own butt. “Where?! If this is a joke I’m gonna be pissed!” a bit of panic crept into her voice.

Carlota didn’t say anything, she was lost for words.

Right below Dina’s ass, on the back of her left thigh, the mantis, the mantis drawn with ink on her skin, was moving, flapping its wings and stretching its insectile limbs.

“What the what…?” muttered Carlota.

The mantis moved as if it was alive… or as alive as a well animated cartoon. It crawled around the two dimensional space, tracing a couple of circles before climbing over her buttocks, Dina’s skin was a silver screen for its display.

“I feel something! Tickles!” Dina complained. “Is it still there?! Smack that fucking thing again! KILL IT!”

Carlota remained shocked.

“T-That can’t be,” she gulped.

“What can’t be?!” Dina shouted, grabbing her buttocks. She put a hand on top of the mantis and the mantis passed from skin to skin.

“Your hand, look at your hand!”

Dina looked where her roommate was pointing, her fingers lost their grip on the fifty dollar bill, her face was instantly disfigured by horror and confusion.

“What the what…?” she muttered.

The ink mantis cocked its head, staring upwards, seeing the woman’s head above and beyond the confines of its skin world. Dina began to yell, fully frenzied, she slapped her hand.

“Get it off! GET IT OFF!”

Jumping around naked she slapped and slapped, but she couldn’t touch the mantis, but only felt its pointy legs crawling through her skin, under her skin, climbing her arm, sliding down her shoulder.

“NO! NO! NO!”

She tried to squeeze the pest between her boobs, like all the other strikes it accomplished nothing. The bug just walked away from the breasts. Dina’s lips trembling, she dropped to her knees.

“Stop!” the mantis was rushing down her belly, towards her crotch. “NOT THERE!”

In desperation the redhead scratched her skin with her nails, the mantis didn’t even bother to dodge, becoming lost inside the woman’s wide dark pubes.

“STOP IT! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH!”

Dina’s neck tensed up, her arms opened wide, she clenched her face, held her breath as her vaginal lips were spread open.

The mantis was in.

She began to gasp again, groaning and moaning, her skin buzzing and red everywhere where it had been slapped or scratched. Carlota, who was ducking scared in a corner of the couch, babbled, half-sobbing: “Dina… are you okay?”

“What do you think?!” screamed Dina, looking down at her defiled crotch with furious tears making her sight watery. “It’s inside me! That thing! It’s inside me!”

“C-Calm down, maybe we can…”

“FUCK YOU CALM DOWN! It’s inside me! INSIDE MEEEEEEEEH!”

The screaming wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Dina tried to stand up only to be put back down on her knees almost immediately. Her joints snapped, her limbs contracted in bizarre ways as she groaned breathlessly.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! It’s inside! Itshhh nghhhhhhhh meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Carlota shook her head when Dina put her hands on her crotch and used both of them to start to masturbate.

“Dina stop!” she begged.

“Oooooooooh! AAAAAAAAAAH! Y-You think I wouldn’t iffffff I could?!”

Louder and louder moans.

The redhead put her head against the floor as she shoved as many fingers as she could inside her pussy, her legs spread and her ass was pushed high. Carlota covered her mouth, perfectly seeing her mate going full hog. It was an unreal level of pleasure, but it didn’t do anything to calm Dina’s anger… or fear. She bit her lips with frustration, reaching an orgasm that would bring her little joy.

“HMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

She came and squirted, convulsing until the stiffness in her muscles loosened and she fell flat.

“D-Dina…?” mumbled Carlota.

With a great effort, trembling, dishevelled, sticky wet, Dina got up onto all fours.

“Carlota… C-Carlota…” her voice shivers.

“I’m here, I’m with you…”

“Cccccarlotaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Her cry was followed by a loud cracking sound, her spine stiffened, her asscheeks began to swell.

“This isn’t real!” Carlota sobbed.

The flesh on Dina’s rear pushed forward at once with a slimy sounding explosion.

“YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A second pair of legs sprouted fully formed from the redhead’s buttocks. A grotesque vision out of their wildest dreams. Both women yelled uncontrollably, Dina stood up on her two pairs of legs, pulling her hair as looked down at them.

They were real.

They were hers.

She could use them to move, shake the ten extra toes, feel the wetness caused by orgasms on the floor with her new pair of barefoot soles.

“How is this happening?! How is this possible?!” logical questions for an illogical situation. “I HAVE FOUR LEGS!”

As Carlota saw her panicked mutated friend stepping around with double the feet she came to the gnarly realisation that she slowly spoke out loud as if she was in a trance.

“You… You don’t have four legs… You have… six limbs…”

Dina looked at her, she couldn’t take any more.

“What do you mean with thaaaaaAHHHHHHHHHHHHHT!”

Between the four thighs Dina’s crotch pulsed.

“Six limbs… Like an insect… a bug…” Carlota stopped a moment before finishing the sentence, staring at her friend’s swollen vulva as it opened and closed with needy fluctuations, a spark of amazement in her terrified tone. “A mantis.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnno! No! Don’t say thaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Dina’s pelvis was pushed backwards and she felt the pull in her stomach. Forced to open her legs by the reforming of her hips she put her hands on her front thighs, curling her toes, moaning as loudly as possible. The mass of her rear expanded, stretching beyond its limits. Her pierced pussy and anus grew to absurd proportions, squeezed together at the end of the forming appendage, at a slower pace than the abrupt sprouting of her extra legs, but still too quickly for someone that desired nothing but for the changes to end and reverse.

Comfort and discomfort, mammal and insect.

The reshaping flesh was filled with strange organs and unusual sensations.

An utterly inhuman sight.

“Your abdomen…” Carlota whispered.

“MY ASS!” cried Dina, twisting her neck as much as she could to look at the heavy protuberance that now hung from her rear. “This is not happening to me! WHYYYY! Fuuuuuck! FUUUUUUUUUUUCK! I was going on a date tonight!

The bug-to-be-woman put her hands on top of her abdomen, the skin was trembling, tense, very warm. She slammed a fist against her abdomen, the impact cracked the skin as if it was a dead leaf and from the cracks leaked a greenish substance.

“I’M NOT A BUG! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

Dina grabbed her head, yelling.

At the same time, on top of her rear and on top of her abdomen, a slimy sound was followed by a piercing pinch. The skin tore apart from the inside, failing as if it was nothing in a spectacular burst of metamorphosis. On her head, above her nose, a pair of antennae sprouted, on her abdomen, more remarkably, a pair of wings. Two sets of pinkish translucent insect wings attached one after the other to her abdomen and what was left of her waist. The human remains fell off from the flapping wings, dry, wrinkled, dust, beneath them was revealed the abdomen’s carapace, it was a lush lime-green shade and bore the brand new shine of an exoskeleton in the making.

The wings flapped, but their owner was too large to fly.

For now…

“NOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Absolute despair.

Her pupils shrank into dark points as the rest of her eyes turned yellow, her skin cracked, more of the green carapace surfacing while her waist shrank.

“NOOOOO!”

A sort of mantis drider.

“Not my arms! NOT MY HANDSHHHHHHHHH!”

The antennas were swinging in distress, on the bottom edges of each of her arms a line of pointy spikes sprouted, her hands lost their fingers when the curved hook like pincers of a mantis front legs emerged, curved like scythes. Legs snapped and gained one extra segment above the thighs, arms one at their end, shoulders compressed.

Dina focussed her attention on her horrified flatmate.

“Ca-Carlottta… Am a monster! Am a f-f-freakkkk!”

Her crackling voice made her seem even more nightmarish.

“Don’t get too close!” pleaded Carlota.

Dina didn’t listen to her demands, maybe because her ears were detaching. With insect-like moves, almost predatory, she moved over Carlota, putting her middle legs on top of the couch and her wet pincers over Carlota’s trembling shoulders. Carlota couldn’t look away from her transforming friend, Dina’s face was breaking, one of her yellowish eyes swelling quicker than the other. She was so close that Carlota noticed the mirriad of tiny hexagonal shapes covering the surface of the cornea.

When Dina spoke her mouth swung in strange ways.

“Help-p-p kkkkk! Tis your fault-t-t-t! Tat tat wash y-y-your ide-de-dea!”

Carlota’s hands had ended over Dina’s boobs.

“How could we know this would happen?!” she wept.

“I d-d-dun kar-r-re! I kank breath-th-th! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELPPPPP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKIKIKIIIIIIIIIIKK!”

Fear made Carlota squeeze the tits. With that last long shout Dina’s face was torn in two by her mantis head. The large yellow eyes took most of the space, the mouth spread into four lateral pincers, red hair and her piercing dropping away. Dina jumped backwards, standing on her back legs, like a horse or a centaur, kicking the air with her front ones, losing every shred of human skin.

Her boobs had been left in Carlota’s hand, where they also crumbled into pinkish dust, leaving the nipple piercings in her flatmate’s hands.

A woman sized mantis in the middle of the living room.

“KEKEKEKEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!”

Seeing Dina’s fractured voice coming out of the mantis’ head was bizarre, but it helped Carlota to snap out from her terrified trance. When the body of the insect began to compress and shrink she leapt away from the couch and ran towards the kitchen, knocking down one of the living room’s lamps.

Alone in the room Dina shrank, her voice diminishing with her size.

“Heeeeeeelp! Tis ka-kant happe to me! Am a WORM! A wommmmh! Pliiiii! Kikikiki! Helppp! Kant be buuuuu…!”

Diminishing, until all that was left was a mantis.

A mantis sized mantis.

Her exoskeleton was pristine lime green, six legs, an alien body. The magic that had robbed her of everything had decided, for some arbitrary reason, to reshape some of her piercings so they remained in her body, a couple in her face and the one in her sex organ at the end of her abdomen.

Carlota came back with a crystal glass in her hand.

The woman walked slowly until she saw the mantis jumping around on the floor, she got to her knees and put the glass over the insect, trapping it. Inside the glass the mantis kept jumping, insectoid moves with human intent. The flickering light of the overturned lamps cast their light over the pierced mantis and the mantis' shadow was projected across the wall.

A large shadow for such a small thing.

With her hands on her beating chest Carlota realised the shadow was odd and big… it was Dina’s naked human silhouette, still terrified of her fate, that’s all that was left of the woman she had been.

Carlota gulped…

She pulled up the sleeve of her pyjamas, on her right arm, above the wrist, in bright red ink… a ladybug tattooed on her skin…

Now that Dina was a mere bug… how long could it be until she ran out of luck and the tickling of crawling ran through her skin?

---If you want to see more kinky TF shenanigans give a click to these links! ^^

-Furaffinity: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/senorincognito69

-Twitter: https://twitter.com/SIncognito69

--And if you want to support and help us do more stuff:

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#transformation #tf #tale #insects

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nichtimhandelerhaeltlich · 2 years

Text

Flower shop/tattoo shop AU but justus hat ein tattoo studio, Bob eine Gärtnerei neben an und peter ist der verwirrte Jogger der sich jeden Morgen die Streitereien an hören muss

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irishk0rn · 1 year

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more modern au brainrot but with kaellidan

[this is the story of how my parents went on their first date, but kaellidan. I cannot make this shit up. I love this story]

ship; Kael’thas/Illidan

kael is trans btw but it’s mainly to explain something Rommath says

As Kael’thas walked by his apartment complex, he paused. He heard a familiar voice exchanging words with a much louder voice; the louder voice being on the balcony of apartment 207, a floor below Kael, Rommath, Halduron and Lor’themar’s. Of course, Aethas crashed there more often than not, so he basically lived there too. They had all pitched in to buy out the entire floor and tore down the walls apart from their own respective rooms, and made it a huge studio. All they paid was utilities.

The elf looked up to see a woman on the balcony, who he knew as Vashj. She was from another university and seemed to just be visiting for the summer. She had a cup in her hand. Her hair bobbed and bounced as she turned her head to whoever she was talking to.

“Hey! Illie! That cute little elf you told me about is here.”

A pulse of shock and adrenaline ran through the blood elf and it felt like all the blood he had in his body rushed to his face, turning him beat red. He shielded over his face with his hand as he heard footsteps quickly making their way down the stairs.

Oh God, fuck — I just came from the gym, why now? He thought to himself.

He looked up from his embarrassment to see a man he had met before in passing by around the apartment complex. He was tall — very tall. Muy alto, if he actually applied the Spanish he was learning the year before. He was quite muscular and rough looking, in a tunic that exposed his arms up to his shoulders, where he had numerous tattoos and was completely decked out in scars. The shirt was low cut and collared and he appeared to be wearing a tight black tank top underneath — was that a binder? His trousers were loose fitting and ripped up at the end, and he was wearing sandals without socks. His hair was long and majestic in a loose top knot that left his bangs hanging down, and he had white bandages that were worn and a bit bloody. The faint flow of his eyes could be seen and when he smiled, he had fangs.

“It’s you,” he said, quickly, “Kael’thas, right? If I’m not mistaken,” his voice had an undoubted Suramar inflection. Kael blushed at having his name remembered and he did nothing but nod at the question for confirmation.

“I don’t think you caught my name. Stormrage, Illidan Stormrage.”

Illidan stick out his hand for Kael’thas to shake and the blood elf did, feeling how rough and worn his hands were. His job or hobbies must have included handwork. Kael put on a smile. “Hi, Illidan. Nice to officially meet you. I was just on my way back to my apartment,”

Kael quickly rushed the sentence and tried to leave but Illidan stepped in front of him. “Hey, wait! Can’t we go out and get a drink together, or something?”

Blood rose to Kael’s face again. “No, thank you. I’m good. I must be going, now — I have to get ready for work.” That was a complete lie, he was off for the week.

“Work?” The night elf smiled and tilted his head. “I work as an engineer, you know,” he said, his tone and voice clearly proud of himself. He put his hands on his hips while Kael’thas raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Pft, right,” he chuckled. “You’re the janitor.”

Obviously offended by this statement, the kal’dorei scoffed and told Kael to wait there. After a few minutes of rummaging around his apartment (and, from what the blonde heard, getting yelled at by another male voice who he assumed to be a friend or sibling), Illidan came back down, holding several items in his arms. He put them down on the ground near Kael before pulling his card out of his pocket and showing the other elf that he was indeed and engineer and one of the higher ranked ones.

Kael huffed and gave the card back. “Fine. Now what is that for?” he pointed to the pile of rubbish.

And that’s when Illidan began to stack the items up, as tall as him — which was probably about eight and a half feet — or 262cm for those who use those measurements. Illidan had stacked two ice chests, a large chair, and a picture frame that stacked as tall as he did.

“If I jump completely over this and land on my feet, you have to go out on a date with me,” he said. Kael’thas let out a long and rich laugh.

He’s going to fall and bust his ass, Kael thought, as he watched the kal’dorei prepare for his jump. “Alright,” giggled the sin’dorei, “Deal.”

The night elf counted to himself and, without missing a beat, jumped completely over the items, his heels flying just above the top of the picture frame, and smoothly landed on his feet; catlike. The blonde stared in awe and it looked as if Illidan himself was impressed with the jump. Kael sputtered, loudly.

“I’m— um— I— you— I-I’m going to… go get ready,”

Illidan smiled cutely and nodded.

Kael’thas blinked up to the door of his studio and busted into it. “LOR’THEMAR! ROMMATH! HALDURON!” Kael screamed, in absolute panic. Halduron jolted up from his napping space on the couch and Rommath ran into the room and to Kael’thas, checking and examining him.

“Sunrise! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Did you forget the morning after pi—”

Kael’thas blinked. “What? No! Um, this really, really hot kal’dorei asked me out. I need— I need help getting ready.”

—

The outfit that Lor’themar and Rommath put together as Halduron cheered them on was quite simple, but elegant. It was decked out in reds; it was red slacks and a dark red turtleneck sweater, because it was quite cold outside. Red looks nice in the winter. It was all tied together with a red coat and sunglasses, and he was ready to go out.

Rommath pulled him into a long and tight embrace and slipped something in his pocket. “Take this,” he said as he pulled away. Kael felt around in his pocket and learned what was in it was a taser.

“That… does not seem necessary.”

Rommath huffed, “Just take it. I love you, sunrise. Be safe,”

It had only taken about an hour and a half to get ready, and when the blood elf walked back outside to meet with Illidan, Illidan had changed. He was in something more formal and his ponytail was much neater, his bangs side swept out of his face. His natural musk also smelled good; irish springs. He had taken a shower.

Illidan extended a hand. “You look very, very handsome. Shall we go?”

Kael smiled gently and took his head. “Yes.”

—

And they stayed out for a long time; neither of them knew what time it was. When one restaurant closed, they went to another. Just chatting and getting to know each other. Hours passed. Coffee and tea was drank and pastries were devoured, and by the time Kael’thas actually checked his phone, it was 4:17 in the morning and he had seventeen missed calls from Rommath.

Illidan drove Kael home and walked him to his door.

“I want to see you again,” he said, leaning down and nuzzling his nose into the sin’dorei’s cheek. “I would love to. And we will. I promise,” Kael replied.

Illidan leaned forward to press his lips to Kael’thas’s. Kael pressed his forehead to Illidan’s and smiled a bit. “Soon. I will see you soon,” he nestled his nose against the kal’dorei’s and cupped his face, loosening the bandages around his eyes. It was a vulnerable state to put Illidan in; showing his eyes. But he didn’t shy away, not from the blood elf.

After a gentle few moments, Illidan put the bandages back on and went to his car, where he watched for a moment and made sure Kael made it up to his apartment before he drove off.

The lights were off in the apartment, and Kael thanked his lucky stars that Theron or Rommath wasn’t there to scold him—

The lamp clicked on, revealing a very not happy Rommath. “And just where have you been?”

Kael squeaked. “Rommath! Uh, I was still out with um, with Illidan. We went to some coffee shops and talked and…”

“Did you have sex with him?!”

The blonde blinked. “What?? No! I’m not that easy, damn!”

Rommath sighed and walked up to Kael and hugged him. “You smell like irish springs. I’m glad you’re safe, sun. I was worried about you,” Rommath pulled away, but kept his hands gentle on Kael’s shoulders. “When you didn’t answer my calls, I feared the worst. Halduron and Lor’themar had to talk me out of calling the police…”

Sunstrider smiled tenderly and kissed Rommath’s cheek. “Thank you, Rommie. I had fun. Good night, now,”

“Good night, sunbird,”

#world of warcraft #wow #illidan stormrage #kaellidan #kael'thas sunstrider #illithas #irishkorn fics #irishkorn #modern au #modern with magic

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elegantmusicdragon · 2 years

Text

Year in Review

I posted 236 times in 2022

That's 236 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (11%)

209 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@blueeyesatnight

@oonajaeadira

@mandosmistress

@charnelhouse

@youvebeenlivingfictional

I tagged 115 of my posts in 2022

#fanfic - 20 posts

#dieter bravo x animal handler - 18 posts

#elegantmusicdragon - 17 posts

#dieter bravo - 16 posts

#pedro pascal - 14 posts

#the bubble fanfiction - 13 posts

#dieter bravo x reader - 13 posts

#fanfiction - 12 posts

#hotd - 11 posts

#dieter bravo fanfiction - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#it sounds more like an evil disney villain who is an actual crab rather than a mash up of corn and a rabbit but you get the idea

My Top Posts in 2022:

Nameless

Part 7 of Love, Animals, and The Stolen Goat

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x AnimalHandler!Reader (f!Reader; nicknamed Panda)

Rating/Warning: M! Language - a few f*bombs. REALLY crude references to sex - the word blowjob is used once. Making fun of celebrity names.

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

You still didn’t know Dieter’s real name.

Like, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really THAT important. But it was the principle of the thing! The two of you had had sex at least sixteen times at this point - listen, rocky road ice cream has magical properties and it may have lead to the best four rounds of sex you had ever had back to back. Dieter was a freak in the sheets and you were grateful for it.

You just wish you could be grateful for his REAL NAME.

And you had tried to pry it out of him - like you pulled out all the stops. The funniest jokes you ever heard -

“PANDA JESUS CHRIST DON’T MAKE ME PEE MY PANTS!”

Buster snuggles -

“Aw, who’s a good boy? Who wants chin scritches? Is it you? Is it you??”

Margie knee mashing -

“Margie for the love of all that is holy stop. That hurts!”

Lingerie -

“Good god, Panda. Are you looking to give me a heart attack? Get on the bed before I kick it in the best way possible.”

And the absolute best blowjob you had ever given in your entire life -

“Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.”

You still didn’t know why he started saying that right as he came, but you decided that some things were better left a mystery.

And now you were curled up on your couch with Dieter’s head in your lap, Buster’s head in his lap, Margie snoozing in her portable bed, and Simon (the menace) sitting on the cushion behind you and attempting to whack your hair.

“Simon, I swear to god if you don’t knock it off I will sell all of your mice toys and force you to eat wet food when we all know you hate it.”

Simon meows in retaliation, but stops. He knows the stakes here.

Dieter glances at Simon.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll just have to get you some more dangles to play with so you stay away from your mom’s hair.”

He looks up at you and winks.

Aaaaaaaaand your tummy is full of butterflies - dammit.

NO. NO. NO PANDA. FOCUS. NAME.

You clear your throat and begin to gently rub Dieter’s arm, tracing over his triangle tattoo.

“When’d you get this?”

Dieter snorts.

See the full post

18 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

In the Beginning

Part 3 of Love, Animals, and The Stolen Goat

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x AnimalHandler!Reader (probably eventually f!reader but as of now is gn!reader; nicknamed Panda)

Rating: M for now due to *language*; may become E in the future. Either way, no youngins here please!

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

It all started with a phone call.

“Animal Studios Incorporated, this is Bob speaking. How can I help you?”

You weren’t even paying attention. Your entire focus was on Margie and her brother, Marius, and trying to get them to walk on their hind legs in a synchronized fashion. Instead of being studious little babies, they decided to head-butt each other and play instead. Suffice to say, it was not going well….even if their playing was cute as fuck.

After your umpteenth attempt, which just ended in Marius head-butting your thigh (making you squeal in delight), your attention turned to Bob doing his telltale dance of excitement - hopping up and down on both feet at the same time.

“Yes! Thank you so much for calling. Absolutely. See you soon - bye-bye!”

You smirk at his nerdy fist pump into the sky - something strange yet completely normal for the 55 year old white man.

“Something good come our way?”

His smile is so wide it could blind your albino alligator, Anderson.

“You’ll never guess who we got a call from.”

“The Queen of England?!?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, you were right about the England part.

“I still don’t understand why they couldn’t have used a training service IN England.”

Bob sighs heavily from his seat next to yours.

“For the millionth time, Panda. When a franchise like Cliff Beasts comes along, you don’t just turn it down. It’s good business wise, not to mention Teri would probably murder me.”

He’s right. Teri would absolutely murder him. Cliff Beasts is her favorite monster movie franchise of all time.

“Listen, I too like to avoid Teri’s murderous wrath when it comes to Cliff Beasts, but Margie, Marius, Marlene and all our other goats aren’t even in this movie - not even for monster bait which is strangely typical of the genre!”

Another sigh. Poor Bob, your crazy questions are too much apparently.

“Panda, all I can tell you is that the producers wanted them for emotional support.”

“EMOTIONAL SUPPORT GOATS?! WHAT? THESE ARE TRAINED ACTING GOATS!”

You’re laughing so hard, Margie kicks Marlene in the stomach out of fear. You scoop her up, trying and failing to contain your braying laughter, and nuzzle her head in an attempt to comfort her before doing too much damage to her mother.

“And-”

Another traitorous giggle escapes you.

“Hooo sorry - who decided to get trained goats instead of emotional support ones?”

And the rest, as they say, is goat stealing history.

See the full post

19 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Mistakes Were Made

Part 4 of Love, Animals, and The Stolen Goat

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x AnimalHandler!Reader (probably eventually f!reader but as of now is gn!reader; nicknamed Panda)

Rating: M for now due to *language* and implied spiciness; may become E in the future. Either way, no youngins here please!

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

It could have been worse. It totally could have been worse.

Listen, there were worse things in the world than almost having sex with Dieter Bravo.

It wasn’t even planned! It wasn’t like you were going to his house with the intention of making out with him or anything....no way!

Okay, so maybe you went to his house with the intention of making out with him BUT IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO GO THIS FAR.

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

It was your fourth trip to visit Margie. And it was going as well as it usually went - Margie constantly bleating for attention as you and Dieter ate gummy bears while simultaneously feeding Margie her own snacks (how the hell did Dieter find out about her obsessive love of carrots??? It MUST have been Teri, you’re positive). Anyway, Margie was clamoring for snuggles and you were more than happy to provide - especially if that meant more one on one time with Dieter.

Over the course of the past few visits, he’d actually proven himself to be less of a dick than you originally thought. And through these Margie snuggling visits, you had actually learned a decent amount about him such as -

“Wait, Dieter Bravo is not your real name??”

He looked at you as if you’d sprouted an extra head.

“Panda,” he said as if he was talking to a five year old, “how could you possibly think Dieter Bravo is a real name?”

You snort.

“I mean, X Æ A-12 and Apple are actually names that people have named their children so forgive me for thinking DIETER BRAVO sounds legit.”

You’d never heard anyone laugh so hard in your life.

“So, what is your real name?”

“No way, Panda. Not until we’ve had sex at least three times.”

He winked at you and your face felt like it was on fire and the ceiling became SUPER interesting all of a sudden.

Anyway, back to your current mortification:

Margie was bleating. You were snuggling. Dieter was staring. It was awkward. You lifted Margie out of your lap and stood up from your spot on the ground to join Dieter on his ridiculously comfortable couch. You plopped down next to him and sighed.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate being able to see Margie. It was really nice of you to invite me.”

Dieter smirked.

“You thank me every time this happens, Panda. I’m not gonna disinvite you or some bullshit. No worries.”

You nodded a bit too enthusiastically. Ohhhhh you were nervous - you could do this. So maybe you couldn’t remember the last time you had seduced anyone but you could figure it out - you were a smart capable person dammit!

“Oh no I totally know it’s just I’m super happy to be here and I can’t believe that Margie is still in my life and it’s just such a wonderful experience and wow I am word vomiting all over-”

And then Dieter was kissing you. Probably to shut you up BUT HE WAS KISSING YOU NONETHELESS. Oh shit, was he a good kisser. And he tasted like gummy bears, the red ones specifically (even though they all taste the same, you knew his kisses tasted like red).

Next thing you knew, he was on top of you on his stupidly expensive couch, your shirt had mysteriously disappeared and your pants were unbuttoned and unzipped (how the hell had he managed to do that so fast???), and his shirt was off too and the warmth of his chest was enveloping yours and-

See the full post

25 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

Love, Animals and The Stolen Goat

Part 1 - Margie

"No."

"For the love of - he's Dieter Fricking Bravo just suck it up and bring them the zebra! We don't have a choice here."

"Bob, I'm not going through this with you again. The answer is NO. Any film or television production that has...HIM...in it is a hard no. End of story."

You hear Bob sigh behind you, his agitation growing. You continue organizing the paperwork for your assistant, Teri. Undeterred, Bob maneuvers himself in front of you, somehow fitting in the tight space between the desk yourself - an impressive feat for a man who is 6'5 and almost 250 pounds.

"Panda -"

You roll your eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm just trying to keep our business afloat, you know like any sane business owner?"

You slam the paperwork back down on the desk.

"HE STOLE MARGIE, BOB! I REFUSE!"

"Margie was a baby goat that we graciously gave him after the whole sobbing and insisting that they were 'animal soulmates trapped in this thing we call life' incident."

"SHE WAS MY GOAT, DAMMIT!"

"Again...graciously gifted-"

"STOLEN AND FOR WHAT??? I WILL NOT HAVE MY HEART BE CRUSHED AGAIN AND BE FORCED TO SAY GOODBYE TO JERRY - THAT ZEBRA MEANS TOO MUCH TO ME!"

"Oh for the love of-"

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

Part 2 - Is This Hell?

A/N - Please forgive my GOD AWFUL titling skills - whether it’s a screenplay or novelette it is not my forte. Anyway - here’s a repost of the first blurb! - Muse

TAGS!!!! (I don’t know how this works so hopefully it works??)

@blueeyesatnight

@amneris21

@oonajaeadira

26 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Goat Blocked

Part 5 of Love, Animals, and The Stolen Goat

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x AnimalHandler!Reader (f!Reader; nicknamed Panda)

Rating: M for now due to *language* and implied spiciness; may become E in the future. Either way, no youngins here please!

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

He couldn’t believe he’d been cock blocked by a goat.

Margie was supposed to be his guide, his rock, his energy-entwined snuggle buddy.

And. She. COCK BLOCKED. HIM.

What the actual fuck, Margie?!?

Dieter sighs and then he knocks back his second whiskey neat. Margie scampers up to him and headbutts him, demanding all the love he has to give. He had wanted to give some of that love to you, but stinkin’ cute goats who are attention whores tend to get in the way apparently.

Dieter wants to get up, find his phone and call you. Bring you back. You’d left in such a hurry, he doubts you even heard him calling out for you to stay as you bent down to say goodbye to Margie. Ugh, he wants more whiskey. Is he having too much whiskey? No, no such thing. Especially in times of sorrow.

Did Dieter even have your number? He remembers meeting you on the set of Cliff Beasts 6: The Eternal Nightmare of Actors Needing Money (the moniker Dieter made up in his mind STILL made him chuckle...god that movie was a piece of shit, but at least it paid well). But the phone number? Did he ask Bob for it? You definitely didn’t give it to him despite you coming over for the past couple months. That’s what communicating only with an assistant (with the name Alec, yuck) for an a-list actors free time gets you. A lonely heart and NO FUCKING PHONE NUMBER OF A HOT CHICK WHO LOVES ANIMALS. Dieter was just lucky that he had been smitten with both you and Margie from the moment you walked onto that set and into his heart. Easy on the eyes, easy on the heart.

Speaking of his phone - where the hell is it??

Fucking iPhones, always disappearing. Like menaces in the night.

Dieter stands and winces at the ache in his legs from where Margie lovingly smashed into them over and over. He flips over the throw pillows on the couch and, finding his phone nowhere in sight, scours the rest of the room in a semi-drunk frenzy. Oof, he had too much whiskey. When did he become such a lightweight? He used to do cocaine for fucks sake.

Flinging himself back down onto the couch in defeat, he finds Margie sitting on her princess pillow staring at him in intense concentration.

“Yes, my angel?”

Margie huffs out a sigh. Dieter stares at her, eyes widening in abject horror.

“Margie-kins, you didn’t eat my phone did you?”

“Baa!”

He sighs in relief.

“Oh thank god. Your mother would have killed me.”

SHIT. YOU. How the fuck was he supposed to get in touch with you?

Oh, yucky Alec! His assistant. The one who, you know, CONTACTED YOU WEEKLY TO SCHEDULE MARGIE VISITS. Wow, he needs to lay off the whiskey.

And so, Dieter journeys forth to find his assistant who he apparently finds disgusting (he REALLY has to get back into therapy). He glances at the third filled glass of whiskey (when had he poured that???) decides against grabbing it and leaves.

He comes back in immediately after for that third glass, he’s not wasting it. It’s a good fucking whiskey. He’ll deal with his possible alcohol addiction in the morning.

His Panda is more important.

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

Part 6: Rocky Road for Two

A/N: It has been a hot minute since I’ve posted. Between having covid and my grandma dying, my depression and anxiety have NOT been great. Life has been really hard but it’s been such a joy to write this series. I know I promised this would be out on Sunday but I just didn’t have the energy to finish writing it and sending it out into the universe. I have so much stuff going on in my personal life and it’s just a lot. But it’s FINALLY here! Two days late but better late than never. Thank you all so much for your patience. I’m so appreciative of the love this series has gotten and your patience as it’s taken me 8 million years to finish this chapter. Hopefully, the subsequent ones don’t take too long.

See the full post

41 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

So grateful for this year!! So thankful for the encouragement to start a writing blog. Love and appreciate all of you so very much!! And there's definitely more to come!

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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