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#key west house plans
thequeenofsand · 1 year
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Roofing - Modern Exterior
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A large modern gray two-story concrete exterior home remodel's inspiration
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shyniisparkles · 1 year
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Roofing - Modern Exterior A large modern gray two-story concrete exterior home remodel's inspiration
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reasonsforhope · 12 days
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"Despite the Central Appalachia ecosystem being historically famous as coal country, under this diverse broadleaf canopy lies a rich, biodiverse world of native plants helping to fill North America’s medicinal herb cabinet.
And it turns out that the very communities once reliant on the coalfields are now bringing this botanical diversity to the country.
“Many different Appalachian people, stretching from pre-colonization to today, have tended, harvested, sold, and used a vast number of forest botanicals like American ginseng, ramps, black cohosh, and goldenseal,” said Shannon Bell, Virginia Tech professor in the Dept. of Sociology. “These plants have long been integral to many Appalachians’ livelihoods and traditions.”
50% of the medicinal herbs, roots, and barks in the North American herbal supply chain are native to the Appalachian Mountains, and the bulk of these species are harvested or grown in Central Appalachia, which includes southern West Virginia, eastern Kentucky, far-southwest Virginia, and east Tennessee.
The United Plant Savers, a nonprofit with a focus on native medicinal plants and their habitats, has identified many of the most popular forest medicinals as species of concern due to their declining populations.
Along with the herbal supply chain being largely native to Appalachia, the herb gatherers themselves are also native [to Appalachia, not Native American specifically], but because processing into medicine and seasonings takes place outside the region, the majority of the profits from the industry do too.
In a press release on Bell’s superb research and advocacy work within Appalachia’s botanical communities, she refers back to the moment that her interest in the industry and the region sprouted; when like many of us, she was out in a nearby woods waiting out the pandemic.
“My family and I spent a lot of time in the woods behind our house during quarantine,” Bell said. “We observed the emergence of all the spring ephemerals in the forest understory – hepatica, spring beauty, bloodroot, trillium, mayapple. I came to appreciate the importance of the region’s botanical biodiversity more than ever, and realized I wanted to incorporate this new part of my life into my research.”
With co-investigator, John Munsell at VA Tech’s College of Natural Resources and Environment, Bell’s project sought to identify ways that Central Appalachian communities could retain more of the profits from the herbal industry while simultaneously ensuring that populations of at-risk forest botanicals not only survive, but thrive and expand in the region.
Bell conducted participant observation and interviews with wild harvesters and is currently working on a mail survey with local herb buyers. She also piloted a ginseng seed distribution program, and helped a wild harvester write a grant proposal to start a forest farm.
“Economic development in post-coal communities often focuses on other types of energy development, like fracking and natural gas pipelines, or on building prisons and landfills. Central Appalachia is one of the most biodiverse places on the planet. I think that placing a greater value on this biodiversity is key to promoting a more sustainable future for the region,” Bell told VA Tech press.
Armed with a planning grant of nearly half a million dollars, Bell and collaborators are specifically targeting forest farming as a way to achieve that sustainable future.
Finally, enlisting support from the nonprofit organization Appalachian Sustainable Development, Virginia Tech, the City of Norton, a sculpture artist team, and various forest botanicals practitioners in her rolodex, Bell organized the creation of a ‘living monument’ along Flag Rock Recreation Area in Norton, Virginia.
An interpretive trail, the monument tells the story of the historic uses that these wild botanicals had for the various societies that have inhabited Appalachia, and the contemporary value they still hold for people today."
-via Good News Network, September 12, 2024
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astrogre · 11 months
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Astro Observations 1
My first Astro observations post, I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.
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Venus in 10th house natives tend to be well known for the person they may date. They tend to date people that really match them physically and can have their relationships idolized by others. The sign it’s under can show what their partners may be known for. This is also a common placement for celebrities because the interest from others in your love life increases your public image, making you more desirable and of interest to everyone including agencies/record labels, they will see your influential potential and love that. Even if you guys don’t date anyone people may have someone in mind who they think matches you or others can just look at you and wonder what your “type” is. Your love life in itself is of interest to others.
Eg. Chris Brown, Johnny Depp, Jimin, Victoria Beckham, Kristen Stewart, Billie Eilish, Kanye West.
Another way Venus 10th housers may manifest is they may have crushes on renowned key figures from history like JFK, Alexander Hamilton, Stalin, Cleopatra, Marilyn Monroe, royal monarchy literally any people of historical significance. (Saturn influence is long lasting and for Venus to be here it can make natives romanticise powerful historical figures)
Pluto 3rd housers can dominate the conversations they have with others so much that they don’t let the other person have their own opinion.
Capricorn Chiron in 6th house makes people feel worthless and terrible if they haven’t been productive for a day, these people don’t like to be lazy, it makes them feel inferior. They put a lot of pressure on themselves to produce and their day routine may be their greatest pride.
10H stellium always have career plans, they like to advance their CV and career prowess for fun, always taking up opportunities. Especially if sun is here.
12H stellium always posting the weirdest stuff that others don’t understand but it has a unique vibe to it that just feels “right” at the same time, they may have this aesthetic that feels eery but overtime enjoyable and something to look forward to because of its uniqueness. I have a 12H stellium friend and they always post pictures of weird random abandoned places with crocs and dirty teddy bears laying in the middle of them. At first I thought it strange but overtime, I look forward to what monstrosity of visuals they will bring next. 12H really does bring out things never seen before. 🤔
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Venus in 1H makes you look very feminine, you may style yourself in a feminine manner or have a naturally feminine appearance. Eg. Leo Venus in 1H May have very beautiful feminine looking long hair.
1H Libra Mars has a similar effect as Venus in the 1H however these natives have a hint touch of masculinity, are rather playboy, Casanova and can have a big ego. Think of Flynn rider from tangled. Very pretty boy.
People with 12H Capricorn placements may procrastinate or find difficulty in bringing the planets in there into reality and get frustrated at themselves for it. It’s similar to the planet being in retrograde E.g a 12H Capricorn moon not being able to fully show or act on the way they feel in their head. Look at the house of where Saturn is in your chart to find the topics and how you can bring the energy of your Capricorn 12H planets out.
0 degrees for any planet or asteroid means that you embody that planet/asteroid and its sign in its most pure authentic form. It can make you the epithet of that placement.
Lilith Square Asc makes someone not able to escape looking like a bad boy/girl it always comes out in their appearance without them intending to. They don’t want to present themselves in a way that looks scandalous but at the same time a part of them is and they can’t escape that. It’s like an energy. They’re dynamic and free, they like what they like and that shows in their face and appearance. They also can’t change things about themselves to please others even if they wanted to.
Jupiter 1H usually have big features, like a glossy kind of look to them. It may be big eyes, flushed face, supple puffy skin, wide nose or just have an abundant looking face. I’ve also noticed they tend to have a squared shape face with rounded edges. E.g Hailey Beiber, Abraham Lincoln, Gerard Butler, Aishwarya Rai, Niall Horan, Ashton kutcher, Whitney Houston, Cristiano Ronaldo
Also this is completely random and not astrologically backed up but whenever I think of Jupiter 1H I just think of clear gleaming skin. Perhaps it is backed up astrologically as Jupiter blesses and brings luck to the house it’s in and it being in the 1st rules a natives appearance. Anyways when I think of Jupiter 1st house I always imagine that they don’t need very much makeup they have this glow to them already that cannot be copied.
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Virgo ASC style and dress themselves in a way that’s unique for them, for an example they may always have a signature accessory that they wear that only they understand why it’s so important to be worn. E.g. can be a headband, jewellery or hat. They may also be consistent in the way they look, they don’t tend to have “bad days”. In my personal opinion I find Virgo rising men the most attractive. But beauty is in the perspective of the beholder.
Speaking of which, my unpopular opinion is that I don’t believe that a sign or planet can make you more beautiful than another sign E.g like how people say Venus, libra and Taurus is an indicator of being beautiful -I just think that each sign personifies beauty in a different way. In my eyes I see Libra and Venus beauty to be feminine and attractive, but I find Pluto Scorpio beauty to be alluring and intense, magnetic, like Phantom of the opera, like an enchanting vampire that resides in the shadows. I also find Uranus Aquarius beauty to be far more entrancing, striking and even as if the native looks like their from a game fantasy novel or a manga protagonist. I don’t think we can just say “having Venus prominent makes someone more beautiful than others”, perhaps conventionally but not universally. Planets and signs of the first house can show us HOW the beauty is made manifest. It being of Venus, libra influence just kind of makes it feminine or conventionally attractive like butterflies or roses rather than intense or of large magnitude (unless making aspects to magnifying planets like Jupiter)
Aquarius moons can feel a lot of emotions but they’re very good at holding it in. People say that they don’t feel much because the nature of Aquarius being detached however I’ve also seen it occur in a way where the Aquarius moon native may pretend they’re not hurt or sad so that they can keep it pushing and force this happy facade so it hurts less but in reality their just burying the pain deeper. They are kind of avoidant but it makes you feel sorry for them because even if you try to comfort them they don’t even acknowledge the pain themselves so it doesn’t make much of a difference.
Jupiter in 6th house always have action packed days, they spend their days with joy and have a really good time. They usually have their dream day to day life. They’re your one friend that is always doing something interesting, fully booked and loves it.
Jupiter 8H are never strapped for cash, these natives can just be very lucky in getting money from others. Especially if in harmonious aspects with sun, Pluto and Venus. If aspects are negative native still doesn’t worry much but may find that people are a little more hesitant to giving or Jupiter 8H native doesn’t want to ask for it.
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Mars 1H makes someone want to work harder on their body by going to the gym, may want to look more manly, aggressive.
Jupiter conjunct moon in 7th house makes you a very passionate lover, anyone who is in a relationship with you can always feel excited and you excel in relationships.
Mercury conjunct ascendant can make someone always think about their goals, plan their next move. They use their minds to get what they want from life and can talk about the principles they apply to themselves which can make them look rather intelligent to others. Can also make someone appear very youthful, not only in appearance but their mannerisms too. Like a dimply smile, blushing and shaking their head when complimented. An animated response.
Moon opposite asc, tends to make a person unable to think clearly when emotions are involved, especially when it’s related to topics in the house your moon is in, like you can look a little mentally unstable here 💀 because your emotions that you show can drastically change from 0-100. moon opp asc also can have a person go against what they want, their principles and approach to life, the opposition forces them to deny their feelings existence in order to act in the way they believe is best. You can even care more about your image than the themes of the moons house.
E.g 7H moon opposite ascendant can make someone care about their image in the relationship, display an image of nonchalance when in reality they’re very protective of their partner. The feelings from their partner and their relationship can be irresistible and make them at times abandon their vices and plans for themselves
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palestinegenocide · 8 months
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Key Developments: 
Hamas’ military wing says Israeli bombing kills two Israeli captives and wounds of eight others, it is unclear where the attacks took place.
CENTCOM: US carries out “self-defense strikes” in Yemen.
UNICEF: Civilians in Rafah must be protected as they have nowhere to go.
UN: At least 395 displaced people killed in UNRWA shelters since October 7
100 Palestinian bodies recovered from Gaza City after Israeli troops withdrew, most killed by sniper bullets.
Israel says two captives rescued from Rafah in southern Gaza, claims they are in good medical condition. 
In the last 24 hours, Israeli forces killed 164 people and injured 200 in Gaza, a ministry statement on Telegram said.
At least 67 Palestinians killed in overnight Israeli airstrikes in Rafah, says the Palestinian Ministry of Health. 
Israeli forces kill Palestinian man in occupied West Bank
In four months, 17 settlement plans for over 8,400 housing units were advanced in occupied East Jerusalem.
Israel spends at least 7 million dollars on zionist Super Bowl advertisement. 
Dutch court orders Netherlands to halt delivery of F-35 jet parts to Israel.
US Senator Bernie Sanders: “No one in Congress” should support the Biden administration sending military aid to Israel, Netanyahu’s “war machine” is responsible for an “unprecedented humanitarian disaster.”
Military expert: Israeli army invasion of Rafah would lead to genocide, considering over a million Palestinians are living in 60 square kilometers, reported Al Jazeera
Dutch court orders government to halt delivery of F-35 fighter jet parts used by Israel in its attacks on Gaza, saying there is a “clear risk” that the parts being exported by the Netherlands are being used in “serious violations of international humanitarian law”.
Israel ‘deports’ 51-year-old Palestinian journalist from occupied West Bank to Gaza Strip.
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moonhoures · 1 year
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Cowgirl
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🕷️ kinktober — day 10: costumes 🕸️
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pairing: wooyoung (ateez) + reader (afab)
genre: non-idol!au, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, cowboy/cowgirl costumes, lots of lame cowboy-related jokes/comments bc i think i’m funny ig (sorry), protected sex 👍🏻, reverse cowgirl position, ass slapping, reader is half-clothed during sex
word count: ~2.2k
synopsis: you and your boyfriend can’t get enough of each other in your halloween costumes
a/n: the way my ateez bias list is in shambles after writing these kinktober posts….. 😔
posted: october 10, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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“________! Are you ready yet?”
Wooyoung’s voice rung out through the house as he looked around the room, trying to recall where he had set down his cowboy hat. While his eyes trailed over the room, the sound of your boots thudding down the stairs caught his attention. He turned to watch your entrance to the living room, and his eyes widened at the sight of you in all your glory. Your body covered in a black, leather cowgirl outfit that matched his own. The matching costumes were his idea, but you were the one that had picked them out. This was the first time seeing you in yours, and it was taking his breath away.
Your breasts were practically spilling out of the top of your tight-fitted, sleeveless vest that showed off your midriff. He was thankful you were wearing a black bra underneath, because the buttons on the vest looked like they were minutes away from popping open—not that he would really complaint about that. Black leather shorts hugged your ass and the tops of your thighs snuggly. Leather boots, with fringe that matched the kind on your vest, reached up just past your knee. A faux lasso was coiled up and attached to the empty belt loop on your hip.
“Close your mouth, babe, you’re gonna catch flies,” you teased your boyfriend, holding out his missing cowboy hat to him while you set your own on top of your head, “And you forgot this upstairs.”
Wooyoung quickly shut his mouth, took the hat from your hand, and set it on his head. The two of you stood in front of the mirror displayed by your front door, making last minute adjustments of your clothes before you planned to leave. You smiled as you admired your good work at finding matching outfits; you had to admit you both looked really good. Wooyoung’s leather pants and matching vest just fit him so well. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his ass in the tight pants you got him.
“My eyes are up here, ________.”
Now Wooyoung was the one teasing you, throwing you a wink as he caught your eyes in the mirror. You rolled your eyes playfully, and handed him his keys before nudging him towards the door.
Your mutual friend, Seonghwa, was throwing a costumer party for Halloween that started at 8pm. So naturally you two showed up fifteen minutes late because Wooyoung swore he knew how to get to his house without using the GPS—spoiler alert, he didn’t. But Seonghwa still greeted you both at the door with a big smile and a glass half-full of some kind of liquor nonetheless.
“Woohoo, first couple of the night just got in from the West? I love it,” he gestured to your outfits before embracing you in a quick hug.
“All _______’s idea,” Wooyoung gave you your credit, his hand never leaving your hip as you two walked in and your friend closed the door behind you.
“She does have good fashion sense,” Seonghwa winked in your direction before bringing you to the kitchen where everyone else was indulging in the snacks and drinks while music played from the living room.
For the next few hours, you and your boyfriend socialized with the growing number of party guests, most of whom you already knew. So you had no problem making your way through the house without your boyfriend unlike how you usually would in a party setting. But you two still danced and chatted with your friends for a while before you separated. At one point you got caught up in a card game with Yunho, San, and a handful of other partygoers. Wooyoung was off somewhere talking with Seonghwa and Hongjoong for almost half an hour before he realized how long you had been gone, presumably in the bathroom. After excusing himself, he set off to look for you.
When he found you in the dining room playing cards, he lingered by the doorway, watching you as he took sips of his drink. You looked hot beyond belief. Your sharp eyes watched everyone placing their cards on the tables, the gears in your head turning. Even in the shitty, dim lighting of the dining room, you still glowed. And when the game went your way, you hollered with excitement, leaping from your chair and moving your arm in a lasso movement to play off of your costume. Wooyoung couldn’t help the way he smiled.
You reached across the table, bringing all the chips to your corner with a wide smile on your lips. As the cards got reshuffled and you took another sip from your drink, you made eye contact with your boyfriend across the room. You grinned at him, noticing him taking a seat on the stool near him. While the next game started you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you, and it made your face feel hot. But you liked it. You liked the way he watched you play with a concupiscent expression on his face. The way his intense eyes were covered in darkness from the shade of his cowboy hat, which only added to how sexy he already looked. You really had to give yourself a pat on the back for these costumes.
“________,” Yunho nodded in your direction to get your attention back to the game, “Your turn.”
You snapped back to the task at hand, taking your hand of cards and fanning them out in a way only you could see them. The handful of partygoers that lingered around the table watched you and the other players inspect their cards. But Wooyoung’s eyes were on you—only you—and they were practically burning holes through you. You shifted under his gaze, suddenly feeling very antsy and, honestly, extremely horny.
While the next round started, you made the mistake of looking up over your cards at your boyfriend again. He was still sat on his stool, but he was leaning back with one elbow propped against the counter. His other hand was loosely holding the stereotypically big, flashy, silver belt buckle on his pants. The lack of effort he was putting in to look so fucking attractive was majorly doing it for you. In that moment you decided to focus on finishing the game and getting home as soon as possible.
Luckily for you, Wooyoung seemed to be on the same page. You didn’t win that round, but when you met him by the counter, he still praised you for how well you played.
“You know, you are so hot when you’re competitive,” he said, eyes glinting as he leaned his head up to look at you from under the brim of his hat.
“Really? I was gonna say the same about you,” your fingers trailed from his leather-covered knee up to the top of his thigh as you spoke, making his Adam’s apple shift, “I meant, you looked really hot watching me play.”
“Hm, I wonder what two hot people in costumes could do on a night like this,” he sighed dramatically, not missing the way you rolled your eyes at his comment.
“I was thinking we could go home. I could, uh, use a ride,” you arched a brow at him, further enunciating your words as a hint.
“Well duh, we came here together.”
You shook your head softly and tried not to laugh, “No, babe, I’m a cowgirl, remember? I could use a ride.”
This time your fingers reached up to his belt, gripping his buckle and tugging at it softly. Your boyfriend smirked, looking at the way your thighs brushed against his legs. He could already imagine how you would look riding him on the couch—he figured you two wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.
“I’ll go get my keys.”
You pecked a chaste kiss to his lips before zig-zagging through the people in the house to the front door. You did run into Seonghwa on your way out, and you made sure to thank him for inviting you two. He pouted, commenting that it was so early for you to be leaving, but when he saw the look Wooyoung was giving you as he rejoined you by the front door, he instantly understood the situation.
“Alright, go have a good night. Just don’t drive like a maniac!” he called after you before the door closed behind you both.
Wooyoung heeded his friend’s warning, driving safely despite being distracted by your lips on his cheek and neck at red lights. But as soon as he got home and threw the car into park, all bets were off. Seatbelts clicking filled the car as you both leaped out of your seats. Wooyoung was quick to unlock the front door, and he hooked his keys onto the key holder by the light switch. Once the door was closed, he pressed you up against it, giggles erupting between the two of you as you went in for a kiss and your hats bumped into each other.
He took his off, tossing it to the floor before diving back in for the kiss, his lips and tongue clashing with yours. You moaned when you felt his hips grinding up against yours and the chunky buckle of his belt rubbing against your lower stomach. The buttons on your vest popped open one-by-one at the expertise of his fingertips, causing you to gasp in surprise. He smirked at you as you pulled away from the kiss.
“How ‘bout that ride now?”
You nodded, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the bedroom. No couch tonight, I guess, he thought as you passed it up. You flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room while you kicked off your boots and pushed them aside. Your boyfriend followed your lead, took off the rest of his clothes, quickly put on a condom, and then climbed onto his side of the bed. He asked you to leave your top and hat on—“for fun”, he said. Then he licked his lips in anticipation, watching you get on from the opposite side of the bed after removing your leather shorts and panties.
“Hop on,” Wooyoung patted his thigh, eyes raking up and down your figure before you got yourself comfortable on his lap, back turned to him. Oh, reverse cowgirl, he thought. This is gonna be great.
Your knees dug into the mattress at the sides of your boyfriend’s thighs, and you let out a sigh of satisfaction when you felt his waiting cock against your wet folds. You learned forward, putting on a show for Wooyoung, swaying your hips just enough to put your pussy on full display for him. He let out a small groan, and the next thing you knew, his hands were on your ass.
“Like what you see?” you teased him, rocking your hips while he rubbed the plump of your cheeks.
“Love it,” he assured you.
With his hungry, expecting eyes on you, you reached between your thighs and took his erection in your hand. You lined up the head of his cock to your cunt. Blissful breaths fell off of both of your lips as your warmth engulfed him. He was buried deep; you could feel him in places that even your toys couldn’t reach. It was perfect.
You began rocking your hips, up and down and back and forth, building a rhythm. You smiled to yourself as you heard your boyfriend make little noises of pleasure. And if that wasn’t a clue that he was enjoying the view, then it was the way his fingers gripped your ass, pulling your cheeks further apart so he could watch himself disappear between them. He landed one good slap against your flesh, then another and another, encouraging you to go faster. Your hat was starting to slip off from how quickly you were moving, so you reached up to adjust it.
“That’s it, cowgirl, keep going,” you heard him say, and you obliged. You continued to bounce on him, the space between your thighs growing wetter by the minute.
“Fuck- Are you close?” you asked, your orgasm brewing deep in your belly.
“If you keep fucking me like this, I will be- Ah!” he hissed as you clenched on him and seated yourself down completely on him, grinding your hips harder than before. You braced your hands on his knees, leaning forward a little. You arched your back, letting him watch you fuck him in hopes of getting him to cum sooner. Seconds later he was moaning your name and his hands were holding your hips so tightly that you knew there would be marks there in the morning. Man, did you know your boyfriend well, or what?
Your vagina squeezed and clenched around his condom-coated cock while you breathed heavily between moans of his name. Your hips slowly came to a halt, and Wooyoung’s hands finally fell to his sides on the bed.
“Remind me why we haven’t done this before?” he asked, making you laugh.
“Because we haven’t had a reason to wear costumes since we started dating,” you reminded him, peeking at him over your shoulder before you dismounted from his lap. Your knees pressed into the mattress beside him, then you were plopping onto the space there, cuddling against his side.
“Well we should start considering other costumes, y’know, . . . for next year,” he shrugged, head tilting to look at you.
“Next year? Why wait? We can dress up anytime we want to, not just for Halloween,” you winked at him, earning raised eyebrows in response.
“Say less. I’m putting you in the next sexy costume I can get my hands on.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite
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reyadawn · 1 month
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My Protector - Part 2
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*image not mine, credit goes to Bryan 😆
Summary: Noah Sebastian is the President of Bad Omens MC in Los Angeles, California and a woman running from her past crosses his path. Noah instantly wants to save her. Make her his. However, her past needs to be dealt with first...
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings: 🔞+, language, slight violence, kissing, choking, slight Mean!Noah if you squint, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), creampie
Word Count: 🤷‍♀️😆
Enjoy! ❤️✌️
×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
I had never really given much thought to living on the West Coast but the Universe had other plans. It's funny how your life can change...how people can change. That's why when my friend Kay called me and offered me a job at Third Base, I took it as a sign I was meant to leave this old life behind. Just like she did. Although, I was a little surprised to find out it was a bar.
"Believe it or not, it's a fanastic place. Always busy, plenty of tips, good food, hot biker guys...including my old man, Jolly", Kay had explained.
"Kay...", I started.
"You need to get out. You have to. It's not mentally safe or healthy for you there with Larry. The emotional abuse he's putting you through is destroying you. Bad Omens will protect you. Misty and I will, too. They have a club house you can stay at until you get an apartment or you can crash with me", Kay replied.
I smoothed out the front of my Bad Omens tank top that I wore over my black leggings. I hated the way they fit, like I was trying to pour myself into the material. Too much skin in places I didnt want but never really could get rid of. I looked pregnant from the side, despite the fact I wasnt. I grabbed a black and white checkered flannel from my closet and threw it on, rolling the sleeves up my forearms. I threw my hair up in a bun and threw on my socks and black ankle boots.
Walking out of the bathroom, I suddenly stopped in the bedroom and looked around. It was masculine in the sense the bedding was all black and blue, nightstand and dresser were dark stained wood, even the sheer curtains were navy. The walls remained a neutral taupe. I hated being at the Bad Omens clubhouse and not having my own place. I still didnt know who's room I got set up with but I made sure to keep it clean and neat, making it a point to only touch my things.
As I was grabbing my purse from the black Lazy-Boy in the corner, the door to the bedroom opened and the man who stepped inside had me quite literally salivating and I almost lost the grip on my purse. This man was an Adonis if I ever saw one. Tall, at least 6'3, short dark hair falling into dark brown eyes, a small but perfectly shaped nose and full lips that had me wanting to get down on all fours and crawl to him.
This man wore dark camo pants and a solid black t-shirt, arms and neck displaying the most beautiful tattoos; even his large hands and long fingers were tattood. He reached up, running a hand through his hair and the muscles in his arms buldged. I must have been staring because he smirked and took a step closer to me. I all but had to crane my head back to look up at him. Short people problems, gotta' love it.
"How are your accomodations, pretty girl?", he asked, his deep voice caressing over my senses like a lovers hand. I swallowed. It was all I could muster, I was rendered so speechless. He must get this a lot though, poor guy. He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a small lock of hair behind my ear. "I'm Noah. Club President and this is my room".
That snapped me out of my trance completely, taking a small step back from him which garnered me a dark scowl of distaste. Evidently, he didn't like that.
"I'm so sorry, Sir. I'll have Misty get me a different room. I don't want to intrude", I rambled, turning back to the chair to grab my keys. A tattooed hand suddenly shot out to lock around my wrist and stilling my movements.
"First of all, pretty girl, lose the 'Sir'. I'm not that old. Noah is fine. Second of all, you're not changing rooms. You're staying here where you can be looked after", Noah replied. I yanked my wrist from his grip, glaring defiantly at him.
"Let's get something straight, President..."
Noah's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"I'm not a child, therefore, I don't need a babysitter. I can hold my own. Don't make the mistake of thinking you own me, I belong to no one. I'm nothing to no one. Mean nothing. Never have, never will so save your protection detail for a real damsel in destress", I stated, hands on my hips. Noah stepped closer once again, fingertips gently tracing my jaw and down my neck. I shivered, goosebumps dancing along my skin and my panties growing damp. He lifted my chin, raising my gaze to his.
"Who hurt you, pretty girl?", he whispered. I lowered my eyes to his chin, unable to answer. "Tell me. Now". I shook my head.
Noah sighed before eveloping me in his arms, his solid body providing whatever comfort he could. I wasn't aware I needed the contact as I reluctantly wrapped my arms around his midrift. He was solid...and warm. I closed my eyes at the feeling of his strong body in my arms.
"I've got you", Noah added, voice vibrating in his chest against my cheek. "I won't let anyone hurt you". Regaining my senses, I pulled away and sniffled, turning to straighten my clothes and threw my purse over my shoulder.
"You don't know what he's like", I replied, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.
"Did he touch you?", Noah asked darkly. I blinked at his change in demeanor before shaking my head. "Verbal?", he added. I nodded curtly. Noah's lips drew into a thin line before he reached into his pants pocket, pulling a cell phone from it and handing it to me. I knew what he wanted as I typed my number in and saved it to his contacts before handing it back. Noah's fingers momentarily flew over the keys and my own phone dinged. "I expect to be on speed dial".
"I need to get to work or Misty will have my ass", I said, moving towards the door.
"Me first", Noah said, causing me to whirl at him in shock. He grinned fully, perfect white teeth flashing before motioning to lead the way. I walked through the main living area of the clubhouse, waving at Jolly, Nicholas and Davis before stepping through the double doors and into the warm L.A sun. I stopped to breathe in the fresh air before letting out a moan of renoun pleasure at the open space.
"You do that again around me and I'll fuck you over this goddamn bike", Noah said from behind me. I spun around, Noah's hand grabbing my forearm firmly but gently. I stared up at him in shock as he looked down at me from behind Neo-like sunglasses. "Keys. Now". I silently handed him my keys before turning and heading to my car. This was going to be a long ten minutes...
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Walking into Third Base, Noah hot on my heels, I was met with the smell of bar food, cigar smoke and bouts of laughter from crowded tables. Kay walked by, auburn hair thrown in a messy ponytail, and shot me a wink as she carefully balanced a large tray of drinks to a table in the back corner of the bar. There were a series of pool tables, a jukebox and overhead cieling fans that barely did anything to mask the heat.
Misty appeared around the corner, clipboard in hand and approached us.
"Thanks for bringing her by, Prez. I'll see she's looked after", she said, grabbing my hand to pull me after her but before I could take a step, Noah turned me to face him, lips descending upon my own in a short but heated kiss that left my lips tingling and my clit throbbing as he pulled away. Giving my ass a playful slap, Noah sauntered off to a nearby pool table where he met up with a few other chapter members. Misty and I suddenly looked at each other, facial expressions of mirrored shock clearly readable.
"The hell just happened, Misty?", I whispered harshly, a few other patrons watching me, all smirking.
"From the looks of it, I'd say the President of Bad Omens just claimed you as his old lady...publicly, I might add", she replied and turned towards the bar. I followed her without a word, bitting my bottom lip to hide my smile.
Most of the night was uneventful as Kay and I ran kitchen orders and served at the bar. I was in the process of cleaning off one of the tables when a voice behind me had my grip slipping on the beer glass and it clattered to the floor sending shards of glass scattering.
"Hello, angel". I spun around so hard I damn near fell over a chair as I stared at Larry in shock and fear. "Thought I might find you here. Seems like your kinda rundown place but playtime is over. It's time to go. Now".
He hadn't changed much in the months since I last saw him. His icy gaze pinned me where I stood yet I still managed to shake my head.
"Over my dead body", I said, gritting my teeth. Larry tipped his head back and laughed, his dark spiky hair glistening from the overhead lamps. The guy really did use too much hair gel.
"That can be arranged. Now, get your shit and let's go", he said, his hand latching around my arm to haul me to his chest. I tried fighting out of his hold, tried kicking him but all he did was laugh. "Damn, you're a fucking hellcat. Stop fighting me so we can--", but his words suddenly died. Following his line of sight I gasped at seeing Noah, Jolly, Nicholas, Nick and Davis standing in front of the entrance to the bar. Surprisingly, it was Jolly who stepped forward.
"You know...you fuck with a chapter members' old lady and you fuck with the chapter member himself. Especially when that old lady belongs to the clubs' President", he said, running his tongue over his teeth. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kay and Misty behind the bar, arms looped together, fear marring thier features.
"Club President? Of what? The Mickey Mouse Club? Get the fuck outta my way", Larry said moving to step forward but Jolly held up a hand. Larry stopped, irritation etching his fingers.
"Last chance, bro. Don't do this. Just walk away", Jolly warned.
"I don't have time for this shit. Move or I'll move you myself", Larry said, glaring at Jolly. Jolly simply shrugged and smiled as Noah steppd forward, hands behind his back. Larry looked up at him and the color drained from his face. Noah smiled.
"President", Larry said. Noah nodded once before his right fist shot out, connecting with the side of Larry's head. Noah caught me as Larry's body hit the floor and he gave me a quick peck before turning back to him.
"President of Bad Omens, to clarify, and if you ever come near my old lady again or even breathe in her direction then a right hook wont be the only thing you'll get served", Noah said, looming over Larry as he rubbed his jaw. Before I could say or do anything, Noah was pulling me after him around the bar and down a hallway. I barely had time to register the doors we passed as Noah led me into the 'OFFICE' and slammed the door.
"Noah, what--", I started but he cut me off with his lips. His hands pulled at my clothes to get them off and a wave of fear suddenly came to the surface at him seeing me naked but as he backed me up to the desk, lips kissing and biting thier way down my neck, I realized Noah didn't really give a fuck. My flannel shirt was tossed over his shoulder somewhere on the floor, my tank top was yanked down to expose my breasts and one of my boots joined the pile of clothes just for him to get one of my legs out of my leggings and hoist it up over his hip.
Noah's lips were like fire on my skin as I felt him pull my panties to the side to swipe his fingers through my drenched folds and graze my clit. My hips jerked in response and he chuckled against my skin before sinking two long fingers inside me to the knuckle. I threw my head back, letting out a pornographic moan I didn't care to hide as my walls clamped down on his fingers.
Noah's other hand was tearing at the zipper of his pants, freeing his painfully hard cock. He suddenly pulled his fingers free from my dripping cunt to push them into my mouth and I could taste myself on his tongue. Before I could say or do anything, he pulled his fingers from my mouth to wrap around my throat and haul my chest to his, lips crashing together. It was messy, all teeth and tongues.
I could feel the head of Noah's cock prod my dripping core and I gripped his muscular shoulders for purchase. A simple thrust had me stretching to accomodate and it burned oh so good.
I whimpered into Noah's kiss, his fingers squeezing ever so slighty around my throat as he thrust again, giving me a few more inches. My brain shut down, unable to process anything but the feeling of my pussy stretching around the thick rod between my thighs, feeling every ridge and vein caress my walls.
There were no words...there didn't need to be. I raked my nails down his arms, red streaks appearing in thier wake but Noah took no notice. Another thrust. A nother inch. It was agonizingly slow and I writhed beneath him, trying to pushing him deeper with my heel but he was much more powerful. More kisses to my chest and shoulder. Another thrust. Bite marks came next. I'd walk away looking like a leper but I didn't want him to stop. Noah's grunts and groans mixed with my own whimpers and cries as one last thrust had him seated inside me to the hilt. I had never been so deliciously full.
I pulled away from him only to sink my teeth into his shoulder as I screamed, my orgasm hitting me like a 2 x 4. Noah wasted no time, shuttling his cock almost ruthlessly inside my overstimulated pussy. I was so sensitive I was getting ready to come again, my nails digging into his flesh. Thrust after thrust had my body turning into putty, my brain remaining in a black out state and I let lose a scream, teeth sinking deeper. No doubt there'd be a bruise there for weeks.
Noah's pace increased, his hands griiping my hips like a vice. My thighs burned, legs were shaking as he gave a thrust so deep it sent me spiraling into another orgasm. Noah threw his head back, releasing a series of expletives as his cock twitched, rope after thick rope of come unloading inside me.
Noah held himself inside me as we struggled to catch our breath. I looked up at him through my lashes then, the euphoric look on his face causing my pussy to clench around him.
"Old lady, huh?", I asked between breaths. Noah nodded. "Well, so much for holding my own". We shared as smile as our lips met in a gentle kiss.
******************************************
@amourtoken @artificialstardust @bloodylullaby @bluestdai @collidewiththesavannah @concreteangel92 @concreteemo @dsireland86 @dreamstyles @dontcallme-angel @english-fucker @exitwoundsx @flowery-mess @fadingintothegrey @iamamatus @iluvmewwwww75 @kaliforniahigh @lilhobgobbler @lovexsleepyhead @lolitasangel @philomenie @sacredthefran @starsomens @sorrowsofsilence @millie-aubs @xcllnt @xmads-omensx @yarasdead
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loveemagicpeace · 1 year
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Some Astrological Things
Your chart :
Upper half- having the majority of planets here suggests orientation twards the outside world and public life.
Lower half- having the majority of planets here suggests a life away from limelight in a more private life.
East- having the majority of planets here suggests a focus on the self.
West- having the majority of planets here suggests focus on relationships.
🫧Unaspected planets plays a key role too. It represents an inner drive that the person may find difficult to connect to or feel in control of. Aspect patterns reflect a complex inner pattern.
☀️☁️Neptune opposite Sun might reflect a sence of loss in connection to father and therefore a longing for masculine power.
🏝️Pluto, Neptune, and Uranus transits take at least one year from first to last "hit". They bring the most profound events and changes. Jupiter, Saturn, and Chiron transits can also have deep impact but are shorter.
🥑Transit aspect: Venus - Uranus, it can give the feeling that we have fallen in love with someone but we don't know why. Because it happens in such a strange and unpredictable way. But when we fall in love under the transit of Venus - Pluto, we feel love very deeply and in a way that we have never experienced before - which can mean that the feelings last forever. Pluto transits is almost always very deep and then many times we come to some realization and transformation that changes our life.
If you have planets in Taurus, feeling rushed can bring anxiety, if planets in Sagittarius, stress comes from having to fit yourself into a pre-set plan.
Belief🌠
💫Fire -Of the four elements, fire is the most naturally attuned to the idea of belief and the more planets you have in fire signs the more you might be comfortable with believing in something you cannot see. Air -On the other hand, air tends to be the cynic, needing a logical argument and trying to apply rationality to matters of faith. Earth is the pragmatist, perhaps more given I to living life in the here-and-now - or perhaps God is to be found in nature rather than floating on a cloud. Water is usually content with the unanswered questions that abound in religion; for a watery person, it does not need to be neatly worked out, as long as it makes sense inside.
Party🌉
🎸🍦The Sun and Jupiter - both have a celebratory feel to them - or at least, whatever signs and houses they occupy in your chart will say something about what, or who, brings out a sense of good will, generosity, and playfulness in you. Because these two planets are most inclined to where you find fun and light.
With the Sun in the 7th for instance, you can make other people feel special and golden. Sun in 4th house your family can give you a lot of support and light. Jupiter in Sagittarius or Leo might naturally lean towards joviality and good cheer - Jupiter in Capricorn or Virgo might be more circumspect but are more likely to keep the party budget under control.
Fire and air signs will show energy more outwardly and will be more ready to party. Water and earth signs tend to be more introverted.
🩷Childhood and Memories⛵️🧸
Water and fire signs are most connected to memories and to always renewing or remembering them. There is also a lot of connection with childhood. Most of the time, Leos are looking for childish energy and doing teenage things. They never really grow inside. Cancers often still like cartoons or toys that are related to their childhood.
Relationships🫀
7th & 8th house -These are the relationship houses, reflecting how you feel about emotional commitment. The 7th suggests a contract and a part of you encountered through the partners you choose. The 8th takes you into emotional entanglement on a soul level. If you have pluto here means you will always feel like you want to be in control of the relationship. With moon here you may feel that your emotions depend on your partner or you may quickly become attached to him
🍓Venus, which represents the relationships we have, also influences us by showing what we value most and what creates a problem in the relationship. Venus in Sagittarius wants a partner with a sense of adventure, passion, life, optimism. Venus in Capricorn values commitment. Venus in Pisces appreciates someone who expresses emotions, is spiritual. Venus in Gemini appreciate someone who talks a lot and has spontaneous energy.
🫧Astrology suggests we have choices - no matter how "fated" or beyond our control a situation may seem, it suggests we can alter our reality through a change of perspective, using imagination to re-vision our approach. Symbols do not tell us precisely what to do; instead they open our creative awareness and invite participation as co-creators of our own destiny.
✨Ig- bekylibra✨
-Rebekah⛵️🌙
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visit-new-york · 1 year
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Unlocking the Allure of Brooklyn Bridge Park: A Comprehensive Guide for Explorers"
Brooklyn Bridge Park, a gem nestled along the East River, stands as a testament to urban innovation, providing both locals and visitors with a stunning retreat. As you contemplate your visit, a cascade of questions might fill your mind. Fear not, as we embark on a journey to unravel the wonders of Brooklyn Bridge Park, addressing the queries that pique your curiosity.
Is there a cost to enter Brooklyn Bridge Park, or is it free for visitors?
One of the park's most enticing features is its accessibility—it's absolutely free! Brooklyn Bridge Park welcomes all, offering a respite from the bustling city without burning a hole in your pocket.
How can I access Brooklyn Bridge Park, and is there parking available?
Conveniently connected, the park is accessible by multiple modes of transport. Subway enthusiasts can alight at various nearby stations, while drivers will find ample parking options nearby. Whether you arrive by train, bus, or car, the journey to this urban oasis is as delightful as the destination itself.
Are pets allowed in Brooklyn Bridge Park, and are there designated areas for them?
Four-legged companions are more than welcome, making Brooklyn Bridge Park a haven for pet owners. Leash laws are in effect, ensuring a harmonious coexistence between humans and their furry friends. The park even boasts designated areas where pets can frolic freely.
What are the best spots for photography in Brooklyn Bridge Park?
Photographers, rejoice! The park offers a plethora of picturesque locations. Capture the iconic Manhattan skyline from the Pebble Beach, or frame the majestic Brooklyn Bridge against the setting sun from the Empire Fulton Ferry section. The possibilities for Instagram-worthy shots are endless.
What are the key attractions within Brooklyn Bridge Park?
Prepare to be enthralled by an array of attractions. From the impressive Pier 1 with its lush lawns to the tranquil gardens of Pier 6, each section tells a unique story. The famed Jane's Carousel, housed in an architectural masterpiece, is a must-visit, as is the renowned Brooklyn Bridge itself, standing proudly as the park's northern anchor.
How did the idea for Brooklyn Bridge Park originate, and when was it established?
The roots of Brooklyn Bridge Park trace back to community activism in the 1980s. What began as a vision to revitalize the waterfront burgeoned into reality in 2010 when the park officially opened its gates. Today, it stands as a testament to community-driven urban planning.
What recreational activities are available for visitors in Brooklyn Bridge Park?
Whether you're an avid sports enthusiast or a leisure seeker, the park caters to all. Engage in a game of basketball, try your hand at kayaking, or simply bask in the sun on the expansive lawns. The park hosts fitness classes, cultural events, and recreational sports leagues throughout the year.
Are there any family-friendly amenities or play areas within the park?
Families are in for a treat! The park offers playgrounds, water features, and a wealth of family-friendly programming. Spend quality time with your loved ones at Slide Mountain or embark on an adventure at the Water Lab, ensuring smiles for both the young and the young at heart.
Are there guided tours or educational programs offered at Brooklyn Bridge Park?
Delve deeper into the park's rich history and ecology through guided tours and educational programs. Knowledgeable guides unravel the layers of the park's past, present, and future, providing an enriching experience for visitors of all ages.
What are some of the popular dining options or food vendors in or around Brooklyn Bridge Park?
Savor diverse culinary delights from food vendors scattered throughout, offering everything from artisanal treats to international cuisines. Alternatively, nearby DUMBO and Brooklyn Heights boast a plethora of eateries catering to every palate.
In conclusion, Brooklyn Bridge Park is not merely a destination—it's an experience waiting to be embraced. Whether you're a local seeking solace or a visitor eager to explore, the park's dynamic offerings are sure to leave an indelible mark on your memory. So, lace up your walking shoes, charge your camera, and set forth on an adventure like no other!
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taerple · 10 months
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JOHN PRICE - HIDE AND SEEK
— warning: in no way this is meant to sexualize anyone, this is all entertainment purposes only. thanks for reading.
- stalking. obsessive behavior. harsh language. mention of killing. knife play and smut scenes.
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It’s pathetic, I’m pathetic. Knowing that I feel safe and peaceful when my deranged fucking stalker is around everywhere that I am? I do, it makes me sick to even admit it. The safer his presence makes me feel around him, I get terrified of him twice as much. It’s horrifying to know that I could lose my life any day now, not that he wants to kill me, quite the opposite actually.
He wouldn’t— but he could if he wanted to, and I can’t win against him. He loves to see the terrified look etched on my face every time he’s outside of my house, vulnerable and anxious. He wants me to be scared of him.
He loves seeing me cover in the safety of my own house, unable to do anything more than watch as his face contorts with glee whenever he sees me. I hate myself for not being able to fight back, I stand no chance. This man knows me inside out— he can probably predict what I’d do in any and every situation.
I can’t let him get the satisfaction of seeing me tremble within my skin. I can’t let him win every single time he decides to scare me by roaming outside my house, trying to instill a sense of dread inside me. I can’t even talk to anyone without making sure they don’t lose their lives— especially guys.
I know that if a guy even wishes to talk to me, he’s probably going to sew their vocals chords shut. No, he’s definitely going to. No amount of security can confine this man. Nothing. Everything I’ve tried has failed. He always finds some way to maneuver around the system. But that’s okay, because this time I’ll show him that I’m not scared of him. Even if I am, like every night, he’ll stop by— he’ll roam around my house like always, sometimes would send me a text message, and then he’ll leave.
But this time I’ll find the perfect moment, just a small crack in his plan and I’ll flee away from here. He’ll be here soon…
Just the thought of him makes my hair stand. I focused on my breathing, listening intently to outside noises. My head whips towards the noise of a branch cracking outside. He’s here.
I grab a knife just in case things don’t go accordingly— and tiptoe towards a window in my living room. I peeked through the tiny opening while looking at his hooded figure, my breath hitches. He halts in his steps, taking out his phone, seeing his fingers rapidly pressing on the screen.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket before slowly taking it out…
I must be looking good today, seeing how hard you’re staring at me.
Furrowing my brows, I look away from the screen and back at him just to see him looking right directly at me. Shit…
He begins walking west from my front door, starting to roam around my house like usual. I wait for a minute, knowing that he’ll be on the opposite side from my front door, and then I rush towards the door. But I immediately freeze hearing keys jingle. Wait a damn minute, why is he here? He’s supposed to be on the other side.
I hear him inserting the key in the lock. My legs develop a mind of their own as I dashed to the nearest wall and hid behind it. The door cracks open, revealing a tall hooded figure as he starts to walk around. Few minutes later, I hear his footsteps going upstairs. Now’s my chance.
I charge for the door when suddenly I stopped dead in my track. “Going somewhere, my love?” I gulped and slowly turned around and there he was, walking downstairs. I feel the liquid adrenaline pumping through my body. I just froze, I couldn’t even move an inch. His deep British accent voice rings inside my skull.
“You’re too scared to run, aren’t you?” I whimper involuntarily. He’s right. My knees begin to tremble while he grin widens, knowing he got under my skin. I come back to my senses before holding my knife up— my hands slightly shaking violently.
“Stay the fuck away from me.” I muttered out, my voice slightly cracking.
“Do you like games, sweetheart?” He questions challengingly, his words drenched in cockiness. I shake my head slowly. He slightly smirks before continuing.
“How about a game called Hide and Seek? If you can hide for ten minutes without being caught, then I’ll leave, forever.” He raises his eyebrows, studying my face. For someone who has been infatuated with me for almost three months, disappearing altogether in ten minutes doesn’t sound promising. Either way, I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes— and if ten minutes is all it takes, then so be it.
“Start counting.” He commands, before he exits out of the front door and circling my house— making sure I don’t try to officially run away in the process. There are absolutely no hiding spots in my fucking house. I managed to find a compact space in my closet, just enough for my body to squeeze in.
A few minutes later, I hear the front door close— and his heavy boots clanking on the floor. I count the minutes in my head. Approximately seven minutes later, I realize that I don’t hear him.
I quietly crawl out, making sure I don’t creak my floors— which ends up taking some time to reach. He’s nowhere. I have about fourteen seconds, and it’s over. I swiftly moved— being cautions of my surroundings as I make my way to the front door. Counting down the seconds in my head, I reached for the doorknob, twisting it and flipping the door opened on the last few seconds.
Before I could dashed out, someone grabs me by my waist and pushed me on the hard cold floor— my back colliding harshly with it. “Gotcha. Did you think you can really outsmart me? You have no fucking idea who I am. You can’t get past me even if you wanted to. I hope what I’m going to do next answers your previous questions, yeah?” He hisses before hovering above me— his hands are on my throat, slightly knocking the air out of my lungs.
I struggled, attempting to shove him away but my efforts are futile. Suddenly, he leans down close to me and presses his lips onto mines— this shouldn’t feel good— I shouldn’t like this. The way his lips mould with mine, leaving no space between us. How is tongue explores my mouth greedily, licking into me. How he touches me everywhere. I don’t have a damn choice— I managed to roughly push him off of me, gasping for air. My chest was slightly burning while my heart was racing rapidly.
One of his hands is around my throat while the other grabs the knife is my hand that I had long forgotten about. “What should I do with you, hm?” I struggle against him, but his strong hold is tight. He waves the knife around my cheek, my shaking body risking getting sliced. “Or maybe I should cut that pretty tongue of yours.” He slightly scoffs, the tip of the knife slightly pushing onto my bottom lip, making a tiny cut as blood tickles down my chin.
“Open your mouth.” He orders, and I comply, feeling his grip on my throat slowly loosen. I opened my mouth which was slightly twitching and trembling in fear before he slowly inserts the knife, the flat blunt surface of the cold metal on my tongue— being careful not to cut the inside of my mouth. “Or maybe I should…” his sentence trails off as his eyes set on my throbbing cunt. He slowly leads the tip of the knife between my legs, only a centimeter away from my core. “Take it off.” He demands, gently gazing against my clit through my shorts.
“Come on sweetheart, take ‘em off.” His tone sounds so reassuring but his actions are the complete opposite. My fingers move and hook around the hem of my shorts, pulling them off roughly. I can feel the pool of my arousal painting my thighs and soaking my panties.
His orbs instantly latch down there. “Does this excite you? How fucking adorable.” His smokey laugh pinches my ears, and I feel the humiliation swell my skin. The knife slips under the hem and cuts off the string on both sides.
I gasped— completely bottomless, and aching. He turns his knife around so he grips the sharp metal, the tight grip making his palm start to bleed. The handle stops at my opening— then I feel it slowly pushing inside, causing me to moan slightly. “Come on baby, let it out.” He commanding voice booms out while he thrusts deeper— his thumb circling on my clit roughly.
The pleasure builds more and more until it explodes inside of me, flooding my system with immense pleasure. My eyes flutter shut and my mouth hangs open as my entire body tenses— it’s almost unbearable. He moves my hair aside, pressing his warm lips on my neck and placing featherlight kisses there.
“Good girl.” He praises, before embracing me in his strong arms. “No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always be my prey— and I’ll always hunt you down.”
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maraschinomerry · 6 months
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Little Pink Heart
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Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, implied Locklyle
Summary: following a fatal Ghost-Touch, Lockwood and reader must figure out how to manage love and life after death
Content: reader's death, ghost!reader, grief, angst, bittersweet, not a happy ending, established relationship
A/N: Please please be aware that this fic has some very heavy content, don't feel obliged to read if you could find it upsetting! That being said, this is as much about exploring the concept of Visitors' sentience that Jonathan Stroud introduced and building on what we saw with Annabel Ward as it is about the angst and the grief. This is dedicated to @bella-rose29 for mentioning the idea of ghost!reader and giving me inspiration (bonus angst: listen to Someone New by Freya Ridings while you read)
Word count: 4.9k (my longest fic yet!)
Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (let me know if you want adding or removing!)
The click of the key echoed through the house as you opened the door. Dusk was falling, the fine mist that had settled tinted a soft blue. As much as you didn't want to go inside, you fancied staying out here less.
“Don't linger, darling,” your boyfriend, Anthony, murmured as he passed over the threshold. His hand slipped into yours and he led you in. The house was cold and dim in the fading light, and from the fine layer of dust and lack of personal effects it was clear that it hadn't been inhabited for some time. It was a shame that the owner, who had seemed like a nice enough young woman, had had to move out of her family home, but you couldn't help but be grateful. You and Anthony had only just got your licences, and with no links to any agencies nor desires to join them you'd decided to try and set up your own. That took time, though, and money, and though Anthony had a little equity in his house you'd agreed to take a couple of small, private cases to make up as much as you could. That was how you found yourself here, ready to earn a reasonable sum in exchange for eliminating a lone Type Two. A few jobs like this would help set you up nicely.
The kitchen was slightly warmer than the rest of the house, the west-facing windows having allowed in the last of the sun before it dipped behind the trees in the distance. Together you set up your kit bags on the table - you didn't have much: a few handmade salt bombs, filings and chains, a few flares only in case of emergency (they'd cost far too much to waste) and of course your rapiers. Lockwood pulled something extra from his bag, a small plastic-wrapped packet. Bourbon biscuits.
“You're the best,” you smiled as he opened the packet and offered one to you, which you bit into quickly.
“I know,” he grinned back, brushing a stray crumb from your lip. You blushed.
The owner of the house had provided a floor plan, but her account of the Visitor had been so inconsistent and vague that it was difficult to pinpoint a possible location for the Source. Anthony spread the roll of paper across the table, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, peering over his shoulder at the diagram. There were two floors and a basement, but the latter had been gutted a month ago ready for renovation so there was nothing in there at present.
“Let's start upstairs and work our way back down,” Anthony suggested. “More likely to find something in one of the bedrooms.”
“True, but it's a lot of wasted time if we don't. Why don't we split up and take a floor each?”
His expression soured, and he moved closer, taking your hand again and rubbing small anxious circles above your thumb. “That's smart, but I hate the idea of leaving you on your own.” Even when he didn't agree with your ideas, he always found a way to compliment them. Just one of the things that made you love him all the more.
You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It won't be for long, and I'll call for you the moment I find anything suspicious.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” You leant forward and placed your lips delicately on his. He held you close, your hands on his chest, one of his on your waist and the other fidgeting with your necklace. It was one he'd bought for you, a small pink gemstone in a heart shape on a simple silver chain. His promise to always love and protect you. Not a day had gone by since that you didn't wear it. He nodded at last; he knew he would, he'd do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. It still worried him not to be by your side, but he trusted that you were a good agent who could handle yourself and that you meant it when you said you'd call for him. His only condition was that if the Source was more likely to be upstairs, that would be where he'd look.
So it was that you found yourself, torch in one hand and the other on your rapier, exploring the ground floor. The silence was oppressive, seeping the confidence from you with every step. Not a ticking clock, not the creaking of the old building settling, not even the residual hum of electricity or plumbing, just the occasional thud from your boyfriend upstairs. Working quickly, you ruled out the dining room and bathroom. That left the lounge. The air smelled musty, and a shiver ran through you as you entered. That was never a good sign. You pulled out your thermometer and watched the temperature drop the further in you went.
“Anthony?” Your voice felt deafening against the quiet of the room, but you knew it hadn't been anywhere near loud enough to travel upstairs. No, this was silly, you could handle this. There were no signs of a spirit yet, for all you knew the change in temperature could be from the wind blowing down the chimney into the empty fireplace. You flicked the torch off, using your now free hand to hold your necklace, grounding yourself as you tuned in and listened. There was nothing at first. You wondered whether Anthony was having more luck upstairs; so far down here had been thoroughly useless. Maybe you should go and check on him. But then you heard it. A tragic, gut-wrenching wail, getting closer.
“Anthony?” you called again, louder this time but as steady as you could. There was movement above. He'd heard. So had the spirit, the wailing definitely nearby now. You pulled out your rapier.
The temperature plummeted.
A screech, so close you would have felt the breath on your neck had it come from a living being, made you whirl round. Your rapier clattered to the floor. Shit. Stay calm.
“Anthony!” you yelled, not caring how scared you sounded. His footsteps rattled down the stairs. He was so close.
You lunged towards your rapier.
The Visitor lunged towards you.
Lockwood was in the back bedroom when he heard his name. All his senses were immediately on high alert - you were the only person he allowed to call him Anthony, so he always reacted differently to his first name anyway, and under the circumstances hearing it immediately made him fear the worst.
“Y/n?” He crept out onto the landing, slowly pulling out his rapier and listening intently for any more noise. It was moments like these he was grateful not to be a Listener, he could focus on you and not the sounds of the house's history. He was only two steps onto the staircase when his name came again, louder and more panicked. Without a second thought he ran down the stairs, only holding back enough to make sure he didn't fall. His blood ran cold when he heard you scream.
You tried to both duck and spin as your hand came into contact with the hilt of your rapier. The blade sliced upwards, connecting with the Visitor, but it was too late. Its clawing grey hand clutched onto your shoulder moments before it disappeared. You screamed as tendrils of ice shot through you, radiating outwards from the spot. Through the fog of pain that had suddenly engulfed your brain you heard Anthony, close by now, yelling your name. You had to go to him. He'd know what to do. Everything would be okay.
You took one step, then another. Your torso was going numb, your entire arm having already fallen victim to the plasm which was turning your shoulder a violent shade of blue. One more step, and your legs gave out. You just about made out the silhouette of your boyfriend in the doorway, rushing towards you as you slumped to the ground.
“No, no, no, y/n!” Anthony's face swam into view, trying to mask his utter horror for your sake. “It's going to be okay, darling, I'll go and get help.”
The fingers of your good hand twitched towards his and he took it immediately, despite how cold it was. You struggled to focus on him through your tears, and noticed the same in his eyes. “Ant-” Your voice was failing fast.
“Shh, I've got you.” He cradled your head, his own tears mingling with yours on your cheek, but you could barely feel them. Almost everything was numb. The blue had spread across your chest, and the little pink heart stood out starkly against it. “I'm so sorry, my darling,” Lockwood said softly. He choked back a sob as he leant down, placing a kiss into your hair. You wanted to do the same, to speak to him, to do anything.
His face was the last thing you saw before everything went black.
You had no idea how much time had passed when your vision returned, a room slowly materialising in front of your eyes. It was a bedroom, filled with knick-knacks and bathed in a warm golden light. It looked familiar, but you hadn't been here when it went dark, you'd been… somewhere else. It was so hard to remember, but you knew there had been a dark, dusty room and a feeling of agonising cold. And a person. There'd been someone there, someone you needed to say something to. Now here you were, everything feeling so normal yet so bizarre; you were still you, still able to move and see and hear, but there was a disconnect between those sensations and reality. Nothing felt real. You looked around again, desperate for answers.
There.
Perched on the edge of the bed was a boy. His crisp white shirt was a stark contrast to his dishevelled dark hair, doleful brown eyes and the deep eyebags beneath. He looked exhausted, like he'd barely slept or eaten. There was something in his hand, balanced carefully on the tips of his fingers: a necklace, with a little pink heart. A spark of recognition bloomed in the back of your mind. That was your necklace. It was important. He had no right to be holding it. You drifted forward. The boy looked so familiar. Oh. The icy feeling rippled through your chest again, and you remembered. He'd been there when that feeling had taken over your body until you couldn't feel anything else. Rage boiled in your veins, and a snarl crept onto your face. But then, as quickly as it started, the anger subsided. He'd not caused it. He'd held you so gently, cried as everything faded. You knew him. You opened your mouth, finally ready to speak.
Lockwood stared at the tiny gemstone in his hand, unsure whether he wanted anything to happen this time. He'd secretly slipped it from you before DEPRAC had arrived, and spent the past few weeks periodically taking it out of the little silver-glass box in his bedside table. Part of him desperately wanted you to come back, to let him see you once more, but the other part knew it would hurt so much. What if you didn't recognise him and turned violent like so many Visitors? What if you didn't because you didn't recognise anything, just hung there as a shadow of your former self? What if you did, and he had to live with putting you back in the case and removing you from his life all over again?
The decision was made for him when a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of his bedroom. There you were. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of you sent him spiralling back to that day: your edges were a little fuzzy but everything else was the same, from your outfit to the scared look in your eye to the dark patch spreading from your shoulder. You looked at him now and he was relieved to watch you processing your surroundings. The person he knew was still in there, you weren't just a hollow shell. Suddenly you snarled and he flinched, fingers twitching towards the silver-glass case.
You moved closer.
You stopped.
Your face fell.
He watched the glimmer of recognition in your eyes, and the tears he'd been holding back spilled out along with all the things he'd wanted to say for months.
“Oh my darling, I'm so sorry. I should never have let this happen, I should have been there for you, and-”
He paused. You were mouthing something. Over and over. Your death loop, he presumed. God, just putting death in the same sentence as you stung.
“I'd give anything to be able to hear you right now,” he said, voice wavering. You stopped, giving him a sad look. The realisation that at the very least you could understand him, even if you couldn't communicate fully, hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Lockwood!” a boy's voice called from outside. You both looked at the door and your anger flared again. The boy on the bed shook his head.
“He's a friend,” he told you reassuringly, before calling back, “One minute, George!” You waited in the corner, puzzled. The boy, Lockwood (you knew that name, didn't you?), gave you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, y/n, I've got to go. I'll explain soon, I promise.” He dropped the necklace into its little case and clicked it shut, and you watched the world dissolve.
You still weren't sure how much time had passed when you found yourself back in that bedroom, but it didn't feel like very long. The last rays of the sunset poked through the gaps around the drawn curtains, the room lit instead by a lamp on the bedside table. The boy, Lockwood, was sitting on the bed again holding your necklace, but this time he looked at you almost immediately. His hair was a little neater, his eyebags more pronounced.
“Hi,” he said quietly. “Sorry if I disturbed you, I don't… really know how this works.”
You knew he couldn't hear you, but you gave your message again anyway.
“Maybe I should see if George knows how to lip-read,” he chuckled wryly. The sound reminded you of home, wherever that was. Things were still hazy, but part of you had a feeling this was it. Here, with this boy. “Which reminds me,” he continued, “I did promise to tell you about him.”
You settled into the space in the corner, allowing Lockwood's low, gentle voice to wash over you. It was incredibly calming. George was his new housemate, he told you, who'd been living here for about a month. It was all very confusing - it had felt like both minutes and years had passed since you were last here and the same before that, but he explained that the other boy had moved into the house in mid-September, and the last time you'd been here was a week ago in late October. Where was all the time going?
“I have no idea whether you experience time when your Source is contained, whether you're aware of what's going on in between or remember things from last time,” he admitted. Source. You knew about those. They were what you'd been looking for that night in that dark old house. A spirit had been tied to it, and you had to seal the Source to get rid of it. But you'd failed and it had found you, and now… your chest tightened at both the memory and the realisation. Nothing felt real because you weren't. You were just a Visitor. You continued to listen numbly as Lockwood kept talking. Not much wonder he'd recoiled when you first appeared, he'd seen what the touch of a ghost had done to you and without knowing you'd almost inflicted the same fate. You vowed in that moment that no matter what, you'd never let that happen.
The next few months saw Lockwood getting you out every chance he got. Bit by bit, he helped restore your memories and did his best to accommodate you even though the two of you couldn't properly communicate. He set up a little daily tear-off calendar on his dresser so you could keep track of how long it had been between visits, and stored his kit bag in the bottom of his wardrobe so you could move more freely around the room. Eventually, you'd come to remember him more. Not just the events from the night you died, but him. Your boyfriend, Anthony. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to be a comforting presence, but you knew you couldn't. Not only because you couldn't touch, but because deep down you knew that as much as you treasured being able to keep him in your life (or rather, afterlife), you had to let him go sooner or later and he needed to do the same with you. He'd been followed around by grief since long before you met him, and you hated that you were adding to it. You were just glad to see him slowly improving week by week - his face was a little brighter, and it seemed George was making sure he stayed fed. You'd have to thank the other boy if you ever got chance. Anthony said the two of you would have got along if you'd met in life, and even now George's obsession with the Problem would have made him your biggest fan, but their friendship was too new and besides he wasn't a Listener either so you'd not be able to tell him anything.
“I've got something to show you,” Anthony announced as you materialised one sunny day in late spring. He sat down with a large pink folder and patted the space next to him on the bed. You tilted your head in confusion.
“Come on,” he sighed fondly, “you never had any sense of personal space before, don't start now. Just no hugging.”
You glowed a little brighter and drifted over, your legs disappearing into the mattress until your torso was level with his. Being careful where he positioned his arms, he angled the folder towards you. It was a photo album, labelled in handwriting you recognised as your own. Page by page, he took you through your memories, giving you time to linger on each one: you as a baby, then a toothy toddler with your first pet; your family and childhood friends; Polaroids of your first team in training to become agents. His hands trembled a little as he reached the next section. On the left were four photos: the team you'd transferred to, the one he'd been training with; a slightly blurry action shot of the two of you sparring for the first time; a goofy photo he'd taken of you cartwheeling down a grassy hill after a case; your team all proudly holding their Grade Four licences. On the other side, surrounded by two styles of hand-drawn hearts, was the two of you hugging on the steps of 35 Portland Row, Anthony's lips pressed in a smile against the top of your head. You remembered that sensation well, a frequent occurrence right up until the moment you died. The rest of the album was full of photos of the two of you, ones taken by others and candids you'd snapped of each other. You felt a pang of regret that you'd never get to take any more.
Anthony turned another page. Hold on. You knew for certain there were no more photos. You looked sideways at your boyfriend, and he gave you a bashful smile. Pasted across a double spread was a copy of a certificate from DEPRAC, confirming A.J. Lockwood & Co Investigators as a registered agency. Inspector Barnes, who you vaguely recalled meeting once or twice, had signed as the licensing authority. Anthony and George had put their names down as the founding members. But then underneath that, in Anthony's familiar hand, he had added an extra section. Honorary Member: y/n y/l/n.
He looked at you so lovingly. “We did it, darling.”
You would have reached for his hand if you could.
Weeks began to pass before Lockwood got you to visit again. He'd have spent every day with you, but business was good and he owed it to you to make a proper go of it. In the meantime, George talked incessantly about Visitors which gave Lockwood a chance to think about you. Each time he finally got to see you again he'd apologise profusely, and you'd repeat your death loop back to him. He tried so hard to figure out what you were saying - his Sight was good, you were as clear as day and he knew your every quirk and mannerism, but he just couldn't put the movements of your lips to the right sounds.
Everything changed the day he met Lucy Carlyle. From the moment she set foot in his living room, he felt like he was supposed to have met her. The feeling only grew when he gave her the interview tests - plenty of people had passed through, some with better Talents than others, but none had come even close to the Listening abilities of the girl before him. When she spoke of the gentleness she found in his uncle's pen-knife, he knew he had to hire her.
Lucy managed to defy even his high expectations on the Annabel Ward case. He kept his focus on the young woman's spirit hovering at the end of the corridor, rapier levelled in case the details of her aggressive nature were true, but he couldn't help but think of the first day he brought you back and how quickly you'd retreated and shown a level of sentience he'd never expected from a Visitor. Was this poor woman the same? Lucy's eyes were closed, listening intently.
“She's in pain,” she said softly.
“Of course she is, she's dead.”
“No, something's different.”
He was intrigued instantly. “What's different?”
She shushed him. “I can almost…”
Annabel launched forward, sending Lucy crashing through the wooden railing in her attempt to dodge the grasping hand. Déjà vu overwhelmed Lockwood, your pained eyes flashing across his mind as he staggered backwards.
No.
He'd already lived through this once and regretted the outcome every day since. Now was his chance to redeem himself. He sprang towards the ghost, fending her off with his rapier, pulling Lucy from her desperate grip on the picture frame as soon as the coast was clear.
“Did it touch you?” he asked in a panic as she clung to him.
“Course not, I'd be dead.” Didn't he know it. The more she explained how she'd connected with the spirit, the more sure he became. Later, when they experimented with Annabel's necklace and he listened to Lucy describe the scene in such detail, he knew for certain.
“He loves me. You love me, don't you?” Her hand stroked delicately across his cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into the touch. For that brief moment, he could pretend it was you, still with him, saying those words. Perhaps with Lucy's help, it could be.
It had been a while. The trees outside Anthony's window were tinted a beautiful copper. You couldn't wait to hear his updates this time.
“There's a sadness, but so much love too. She feels very kind.” That wasn't Anthony's voice. Something was wrong. There was a girl sitting beside him on the bed, holding a little pink heart on a chain. Your necklace. You grew defensive, preparing to strike.
The boy looked up and saw you glaring. “It's okay, darling.” The girl followed his gaze. “Lucy, this is y/n, my late girlfriend. Y/n, this is our new associate, Lucy. She's a Listener.” Ah. Finally. You settled back down and took in the girl properly. She was pretty, with a warm brunette bob and a blue jumper which made her eyes pop. She smiled up at you, a genuine friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. Anthony gave her an encouraging nod. You noticed that he seemed a little nervous, but there was also a calmness to him that had been missing for the past year. If that was Lucy's influence, then she was alright in your eyes.
Anthony spoke to you again. “She's brilliant, connected with a Visitor on our last case and I thought maybe she could finally help us figure out what you've been trying to say.” You nodded in agreement, and the girl closed her hand around the necklace.
You weren't sure whether you were in Lucy's head or whether she was in yours. The two of you blended into one as she ventured into your memories. Anthony's room melted away around you, sending you back to that cold dark room. You bristled.
“It's a bit different having her in the room with us,” Lucy murmured, eyes closed. “Let me know if either of you need me to stop.”
Anthony glanced at you, flickering slightly but still present and unagitated. “We're okay, go on.”
Meticulously, she described what you were both experiencing, or in your case reliving. It was hard knowing you were getting closer to the agony all over again, but it was important for your boyfriend to finally have a chance for answers and closure, so you kept the inevitable moving along.
“Anthony?” Lucy said softly, the same way you had. By the look on his face, it seemed he was realising now what you had at the time - that you'd tried to call him and hadn't been loud enough, that if only you'd tried again straight away, maybe you'd still be alive. “Anthony?” she called again. “Anthony!” You heard your own scream echo in your mind, felt the cold grasping your shoulder. The boy reached out and gripped Lucy's free hand, never taking his eyes off you. The gesture was supportive for her, but meant for you too. A tear rolled down his cheek. Lucy's breathing was shallow.
“It hurts,” she gasped, “and she's scared.”
“I should have been there quicker.” His voice was shaking with emotion, barely able to get the words out.
“No, there's no anger. She knew you were coming, and having you there through the end was a comfort.”
Anthony swallowed thickly. “Her death loop. Can you hear it?”
She opened her eyes and watched you as you spoke, the words spilling from her lips a second after.
“It's okay. It's not your fault.”
The boy broke down, his sobs rattling through the small room. Lucy held out her arms and he folded into them. She threw you an apologetic glance, and you said it again to her. “It's okay. It's not your fault.”
They were still hugging when, with his and your permission, Lucy gently slipped your necklace back into its case.
Now that the secret was out, you really did become an honorary member of the agency. Sure, you couldn't exactly contribute to the cases, but other than that the whole team treated you as one of their own. Anthony always waited for your opinion on big decisions, which you could make quite apparent with how happy or angry your energy was. George was absolutely fascinated by you, and took every opportunity to quiz the others on your awareness of various things and how you reacted to his experiments. Lucy often got you out on her own to have another girl to talk to. In return, of course, she'd fill you in on any gossip they came across or funny things that happened on cases that the boys were too embarrassed to tell you about. Through it all, you watched the three of them grow into a little family. Anthony and Lucy especially had clicked with each other; they reminded you of how you and he had been. That realisation filled you with a mixture of relief and melancholy. You loved Anthony so much, all you wanted was for him to be happy, but you'd be lying if you didn't wish it was you putting the light back in his eyes.
He sat you down shortly after New Year. His face was sombre but hopeful, and he fidgeted with his ring. Part of you could already tell what was coming.
“I don't really know how to say this,” he began hesitantly, “but after everything we've been through, you deserve to hear it.” You waited patiently for him to find the words he needed. Really, you had all the time in the world.
After a few moments, he spoke again. “I promised to always love you, and I will still keep that promise until the day I die…” But. There had to be a but. “...but I really care about Lucy too, and I just-” He didn't need to finish the sentence. And technically he was single. And he stood a chance of having a life with her. And she wasn't going to keep him tied to his past and his grief.
“It's okay.” Now he knew what your death loop was, he could tell what you'd said, and the way you'd limited it to just those words was a reminder of how remarkably well you understood everything that was happening. How you were as close to being a person as you could be, how it wasn't close enough.
“Promise?”
You touched the hollow of your neck, where the outline of a little sparkling heart sat against the darkness.
He nodded in understanding and reached for the silver-glass case. “Thank you, darling.”
“It's okay.”
It's not your fault.
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eretzyisrael · 4 months
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by Lee Smith
The Biden team’s offer to trade Yahya Sinwar, the man believed to be the mastermind of the Oct. 7 attack, for guarantees that the Israeli military stay out of Rafah points to two disturbing truths about the current conflict in the Middle East. The first is that the U.S. knows plenty about what the Hamas terror group is doing and has done. The second is that Washington has been keeping key information—like the terror leader’s whereabouts—from the Israelis, thereby prolonging the war that it claims to decry.
The implications of the administration’s offer, relayed in a recent Washington Post article, has Israelis and U.S. pro-Israel activists livid. Israel’s former ambassador to the U.S. Michael Oren, for instance, posted on X, “I am shocked and sickened by reports that the U.S. is withholding from Israel vital information on the whereabouts of senior Hamas leaders in Gaza. Is the administration still our ally?”
The Biden administration is making the offer because all its efforts to end Israel’s war have failed and if Rafah falls, Hamas is likely to fall, too. It seems there’s no other way to preserve a pillar of what the White House calls “regional integration”—a euphemism for the U.S.-Iran alliance system that Barack Obama has tried to impose on the Middle East for the last decade.
Leaks that the Biden administration is withholding actionable intelligence on Hamas’ paramount leader in Gaza confirm that, as Tablet reported shortly after the Oct. 7 massacre, the administration had a wealth of intelligence on the terror group and its plans. If U.S. intelligence agencies are confident that they know where Sinwar is squirreled away now, in the chaos of wartime, they also knew what he was doing in the lead-up to the massive attack.
Biden and his aides have formulated their scenario: Hamas ‘technocrats’ will constitute the Iranian-backed component in a unity government with the U.S.-backed faction that now rules the West Bank. Hamas is a pillar of the U.S.-Iran condominium.Share
The administration’s efforts to disclaim any foreknowledge of the attack were always absurd. The U.S. has not only its own unrivaled collection of signals intelligence but also significant intelligence channels in Qatar, where Hamas leaders are based; in Lebanon, where Hamas fighters trained under the supervision of Iranian officials; and Egypt, which shares a border with Gaza and allows Hamas to smuggle weapons through the terror group’s extensive tunnel network. Further, detailed open-source reporting, especially in The Wall Street Journal, months prior to the attack showed that top Iranian officials were visiting Lebanon to coordinate major operations with Hamas and Hezbollah leaders.
And yet, according to reports shortly after Oct. 7, there was no evidence U.S. spy services shared with Jerusalem their intelligence on Hamas. The Biden administration rationalized its failures by claiming there was nothing exceptional about its findings, much of which was gathered in areas where the U.S. prevented or discouraged Israeli intelligence from operating. As one U.S. source told the press, “I think what happened is everyone saw these reports and were like, ‘Yeah of course. But we know what this will look like.’” In other words, the Biden administration knew there was something big in the works; the only question is whether it had any indication of the full scope of the Oct. 7 operation.
Read the whole thing.
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radiowallet · 1 year
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.
A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.
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For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.
Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled. 
“Please say you’ll come visit.”
After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter. 
So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart. 
Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.
Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms. 
But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye. 
In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek. 
“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”
Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice. 
Be spontaneous. 
Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could. 
Except Deiter Bravo. 
The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart. 
Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac? 
A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart. 
Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide. 
“This is…”
“A surprise?”
“A great fucking surprise.” 
It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall. 
Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside. 
Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice. 
“Do you want to order in?”
Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”
“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“
“Dee?”
“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks. 
Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine. 
“A party?”
“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.” 
The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense. 
“You wanted to go.”
It wasn’t a question. 
Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 
Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away. 
“You want to go.”  
Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch. 
“I want to go with you.” 
———————
Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene. 
He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow. 
“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls. 
Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs. 
He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party. 
No. 
All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress. 
“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”
The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.
Home?
———————
Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations. 
Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town. 
As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.
———————
The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster. 
Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him. 
The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.
But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was. 
This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.
So much more.
Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention. 
“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear. 
He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.” 
———————
They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him. 
There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.
Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him. 
Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch? 
And why did Marcus care? 
He didn’t consider himself a jealous man. 
But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight? 
Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on. 
Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it. 
The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes. 
And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality. 
Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.
Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat. 
When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again. 
He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him. 
The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit. 
From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.
“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”
Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.
The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound. 
“Let me in, Marcus.”
It didn’t sound like a request.
Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.
“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.” 
Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other. 
“I don’t belong here, Dee.”
“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious. 
Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”
“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”
His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.
“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”
Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up. 
But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg. 
“Hard, baby. Please.”
Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?” 
“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”
It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror. 
He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move. 
“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man. 
“M-marcus…please…”
When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.
And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had. 
“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.” 
“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.” 
The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same. 
“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.” 
“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”  
Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream. 
Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.
“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw. 
They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley. 
Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.
“Do they hurt?”
“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmmm, definitely.” 
Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light. 
“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”
There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep. 
Home. 
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emilybeemartin · 1 year
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Inktober Days 10-12
Day 10: "Fortune"
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On the farthest-flung spit of the Florida Keys are a handful of islands bearing the second-oldest surviving European name in the US, recorded by Ponce de León for the abundance of sea turtles and the lack of fresh water (Florida’s name is considered the oldest). Shallow straits create a ship trap that has claimed hundreds of vessels from the age of sail, including loaded Spanish treasure galleons. Old lighthouses stand as memories to the effort to guide ships through lucrative but risky channels. Rising from Garden Key is a hexagonal fortress—Fort Jefferson, the largest all-brick fort in the US, which housed Union prisoners during the Civil War. Under the turquoise water are some of the most intact coral reefs in the continental US. The water teems with sea life, and in addition to several year-round seabird species, the islands serve as stopovers for migrating birds. It’s a treasure trove lousy with natural and historical abundance. A vast fortune of biodiversity and human history.
This message is not brought to you by Visit Dry Tortugas LLC—it’s brought to you by a too-romantic ranger who’s a sucker for lonely maritime outposts and would desperately like to visit this unusual little member of the National Park Service.
Day 11: "Wander"
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Some parks more than others seem to invite visitors to wander. It’s the twists of a path, dipping in and out of the rises in a landscape. It’s the light filtering through dark forests, promising something new beyond the branches. It’s the shoulders of a massive mountain standing like a beacon, or its invisible summit covered in clouds. Mount Rainier, like so many other protected places, seems to beckon—come. Explore. Take it in.
But stay on the path—alpine habitats are fragile.
Day 12: "Spicy"
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Olympic was the first park I fell in love with, and it was a twenty-year long-distance relationship. A National Geographic article I read in high school painted a picture of verdant rainforests dripping with moss, wild windy coastlines, and high snowy peaks. I desperately wanted to see these places myself, stand under the towering cedars and breathe in their spicy scent. My desire to visit was so strong that the summers I worked in Glacier and Yellowstone, I would constantly plot the drive west, hoping the travel time would somehow get shorter. It was eleven hours. I could do that in a long weekend, couldn’t I? Take one of my precious few days off and just blitz to the coast?
The plans never worked out, which is probably for the best. Instead, after two years of Covid-cancelled plans, my husband and I decided to make the trip together from the east coast. It was infinitely better than a snatched day and a half all alone. For a week, we explored the glaciated mountains, rocky beaches, and primordial rainforests. After two-thirds of my life spent pining after this park, it was everything I’d dreamed it would be and more.
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claireelle18 · 1 year
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She’s a Gem - Vince Dunn
Shoutout to @cellythefloshie for gushing about this man, and encouraging this write. Hope everyone enjoys it!
Vince bought her some sort of sparkly gem for every major occasion that happened between the two. The tradition started after he won Lord Stanley, because she deserved something shiny. Paper rings were what he made her on every date leading up to the first gem. The St. Louis 2018-2019 team won the Stanley cup. He got his Stanley Cup and the ring to go along with it. He bought her Sapphires. This was the first major gift he ever gave her. The two only had been dating a little under a year when he did this. He said it was because she needed to rock something blue to go along with his gear. She wore the set every game, even during the bubble series. It made her feel closer to him, even though he was in Toronto, and FaceTimes were the only form of face to face either got of each other. Her shadow box with the paper rings he made her sitting next to the new box containing her first gem.
When news broke he was going to Seattle during the expansion, she was the first one to cheer on the new opportunity, even if that turned them long distance again. In the bubble, she moved home to Florida to be around her family. Due to the world turning back to some weird level of normal, the couple was allowed to see each other again. He wasn’t in the bubble anymore. He presented her with Aquamarines to match his new team’s jersey color. “You need to be able to coordinate correctly, loves,” he explained. A small promise to her that she had his heart. Her box of paper rings, more added to the collection of both because again he continued the original tradition for every date. She took the move to Seattle right before the fall season, right before the hockey season started up. She had been out of the Florida heat for a while, but her wardrobe was bright, cheery, Key West colorations. What did he get her? Pink Ethiopian opals. They reminded him of her so much, matching her personality (and her clothes). October 23, 2021 - Vince Dunn scores his first goal as a defensemen for the Seattle Kraken. The following day, he took her out and bought her black pearls. “What? I can’t celebrate my first goal with a new team by spoiling my hunny with some new jewelry?” “I’m not saying you can’t, but Vince this is about you!” “And it wouldn’t be for me without my number one cheering me on from the sidelines.” A paper ring adorning her ring finger at that time. “Vince Dunn! You better not tell your mother you just said I’m your number one! She’ll be heartbroken!” ‘Ha,’ he thought. His mother would be estatic, knowing that there was good reason behind that statement.
She landed a new job in Seattle, finally, after being out there for a couple of months. Peruvian blue opals for her new job, and because it was another reason for him to gift her with something to reminder her of him. “What? Can’t spoil my girl?” “Vin, it’s your birthday celebration!”
“So? My beautiful girlfriend will now have something to wear and think about me while she rocks the new job!” She rolled her eyes, and thanked him again. The opals came in back to back sets, along with the pearls, due to the fact that their birthdays were days apart from each other. That paper ring collection larger than imagined when the tradition started. He couldn’t resist giving her options and reminders of him, every major chance he could. Whenever she wore them, it made his heart swell with pride. She loved it because he took the time to choose each item, each one holding so much meaning to their relationship. Maybe one day these would be passed down to their children, and then their children, and so on. The two had talked multiple times, at length, for the future, what it held for the couple - marriage, children, a real house. Over the off season break, he put his next plan of what celebration the two would have. The biggest decision for him. That ring. Not her paper rings, not the other rings that matched the sets of jewelry previously gifted. He had been giving it thoughts for a year now. First season completed in Seattle, he was ready for that next step with her. She donned his name multiple times for years, stitched into all the jerseys. She had stuck through it all with him. Every twist, turn, bump, and loop-de-loop life threw at them. Glued to his side. The ups and downs, highs and lows, every moment. That old box of paper rings proving every day their commitment. He knew she kept them all. He finally settled on the perfect ring for her. A 3.5 karat diamond with a titanium band. Classic, with minor flare. A little more flashy than the others in her now decent size collection, but she deserves the attention. The most important piece she’d own.
He found it by accident while out with the boys back in Toronto. Home for him is with her, no matter where they are. The group had popped into an antique based shop, and as she was more of a timeless, classic girl, he took a peek at what the case held. Nestled in red velvet, sat the ring. Then and there he saw her with that particular one adorning her finger. A little more shiny and sparkling, definitely a conversation starter. Similar to her grandmother’s ring that she said she adored growing up. The marquise cut, flower set diamond ring. Immediately he rang his mother, followed by her mother. Both were in agreeance. That ring was meant to be hers. Without a second thought, he bought it.
He had the girl of his dreams. He now had the perfect ring. All he needed was the perfect place to ask her that all so important question. She wasn’t the type to care for the general cheesy proposals. He needed something more meaningful, more unique.
He held onto that ring until their trip to the Bahamas with some of the other teammates that weren’t selected for the All Stars series. Sunset on the balcony of their hotel room with drinks, and a hidden bottle of champagne to celebrate with further after he asked. His phone hidden and recording to keep this moment forever.
Her back facing the camera, she was admiring the fire painted sky. He came up, hugging her from behind. The box in his pocket feeling heavier than before. “Hey hunny…you know that I love you, right?” He asked her.
“Yeah, of course I do loves. Why do you ask?”
He was already nervous, a little giddy even. He never thought he’d be there, ready to ask her to be by his side forever. He took her hand making her face him. “I say that because…be…because…I want to spend the until the end of time with you.” He drops down to one knee, his ocean tumbled curls falling into his eyes. “For years already you’ve worn my last name proudly across your back, but now I want you to share that last name. Our last name across your back. I want those future moments we’ve talked about time and time again. Will you marry me?” He pulled out the velvet box, that ring glinting, reflecting the scorching colors.
Her eyes sparkled with tears that threatened to tumble down her cheeks. “Of course I’ll marry you Vince!” He slipped the ring on, she pulled him in for a kiss.
After dinner and celebrations, back in the hotel room. “You picked a wonderful ring. Knowing me so well for this shiny one,” she commented to him. “But you know I’d marry you with paper rings if it came down to it. You’re the one I want.”
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digitaldoeslmk · 11 months
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By The Book AU Timeline
[this will be edited as things progress and the au gets more fleshed out]
less of a timeline and more the a brainstorm chart for the plotbeats i have so far
Prince > Little Sage > Pilgrim > Immortal
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ACT 1, PRINCE: 2 years, S1 plus some of S2
ep0 special, MK becomes Monkie Kid
Fated Feast (tm) and dealing with it
MK learning how to use his powers
pretty much all the episodes of S1
Beijing Opera sideplot
first New Years is a Lion Dancing competition special
Macaque introduces himself
Spider Queens get exorcised, LBD reveal
Nezha and Muzha introduction
some more filler episodes of Monkie gang dealing with small easy stuff
MK gets invited to meet Guanyin
MK learning the Dao and Dharma, starts cultivation
Macaque causes trouble (basically Shadow Play ep but not), Wukong finds out
spicynoodles start becoming a thing late in the arc
S1 finale special, except it's LBD and some henchmen
Celestial Realm sightseeing moment, introduction to several immortals and gods
ACT 2, LITTLE SAGE: about half a year, part of S2 and a lot of changes
Red Son's investigation gets serious, Nezha is helping
Wukong gets more present to teach MK
most of what's left of S2, with some changes
Yingge and Longnü intro
Tang starts helping MK and Mei with magic
Mei starts training her dragon powers in FFM
Guanyin meets the Monkien gang, reveal of Tang's past reincarnations
MK gets deeper on training with his monkey form and powers
"recollections of red and blue" is set in this arc
DBK and PIF start making amends with Red Son
qpr chimera fully established, Red Son and MK get serious enough to tell their parents about it
more LBD shenanigans
S2 season finale, except not
LBD tries to trap him in a pagoda, everyone joins the fray, MK escapes because Macaque underestimates him, Wukong gets kebabed, Megapolis is lost and the gang flees for their lives
ACT 3, PILGRIM: about half a year, S3 in spirit but almost every plot gets scrapped cus its just filler anyway
they aren't on a ""journey to the west"", they are gathering allies and tools to use against LBD and Macaque
plan is, burn the motherfuckers with the Samadhi fire with the help of the four dragon king's armies to spread the fire with rain, and use some artifacts to then control the fire and put it out
drastic measure but it do be drastic times
LBD used the skeleton key to open the gates of the Diyu, so the world is slowly getting overrun by runaway spirits, as well as channeling the waters from it to freeze the land
apparently Macaque wants to consume every living thing he's trapped to fuel something, and nobody is sure what
anyway it's crisis politics time, nobody is having fun, everything sucks
time to check in with the past pilgrims for advice and some tricks they know, Monkie gang power up time
the dragon king of the north and his family are missing, time to find them
Shen Gongbao intro, he's involved but they figure it out
it's also time to draft some immortals, we love owing favors to people in this house amiright??
Mayor starts to think the henchman career isn't for him, time to dip
he fucks a plan cus he uses a pill of immortality to heal himself but oops the gang needed that
Mayor spills the beans on Macaque's plan, MK gets impulsive and runs off to face LBD
S3 special time except not
MK exchanges himself for the girl LBD got possessed, which builds the group time to wrap up lose ends
final battle time, hoards of the underworld versus whatever immortals got convinced to help despite going against the Jade Emperor's decree
MK sends a clone with his staff before he loses control back to the gang
Mei in dragon form fighting possessed MK, so that Red Son and Nezha can take a shot at MK to exorcise LBD out of him, Erlang and Muzha helping to hold Macaque back
MK gets shot with the Samadhi Fire, to explosive results
MK vs Macaque kaiju monkey battle time
Macaque gets nuked, LBD gets carbonized, Mayor dies saving people from the city before the fires get to them
everything is put back where it belongs, but there's a lot of loose ends to wrap up, ends in a bittersweet note
ACT 4, IMMORTAL: two years, S4 solely in name, basically a full overhaul lmao
oh man oh man shits gonna hit the fan lmao
the city is saved and the bad guys are gone; time for Consequences
Jade Emperor isnt very happy with the amount of unauthorized actions taken just now
MK goes to fucking trial for the crime of saving the world, it goes as well as one would think
luckily Guanyin comes in clutch and gets his sentence lightened to "community service"
there is an absurd amount of undead still walking around, which means MK has to get on that
also yknow. the devastating amount of damage in the mortal AND celestial realm
MK is given an assignment in the heavenly bureocracy, to help keep him in check and accountable to stuff. is great innit.
another part of his job is, dealing with Wukong's past sworn brotherhood cus they've been uppity since Macaque's attack and threatening to break the human-demon truce
Qi "two dads nuclear family" Xiaotian learns to deal with distant extended family relations with very specific social cues. again, goes as well as expected
under all that, Red Son still hasn't been able to get the missing memories situation fixed
also turns out even Wukong doesn't remember who MK was but he used to know. he doesn't anymore. and he doesn't know what happened. Red Son did not like learning that.
the celebration of Ulhambana in the Celestial Realm is approaching, and Red Son thinks he can get himself and MK invited to it so they can yknow, ask Buddha wtf is going on
so yknow, time to earn the trust of the Celestial Realm again, in a year. that's doable right? ahahah
and because he doesn't have enough on his plate, MK traded off a lot of his merits in exchange for LBD and Mayor speedrunning their time in hell so they can be reborn under his care
MK becomes An Uncle, what could possibly go wrong!
oh, jumpscare, Macaque is still around but Different
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