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fnemu0gjj3h4 · 1 year

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kunalp1234 · 1 year

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#Isobutyl Isovalerate Market #Isobutyl Isovalerate

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radley-writes · 9 months

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if your girl doesn't have a bulbous lobed frontal protuberance filled with isovaleric fatty acid that she uses for echolocation.... why are you even with her

#red flags with radley #follow for more great relationship advice

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h-l-vlovesvintage · 11 months

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Once again. Here's a little wip I have. A Endeavour Morse and Fem!Original Character. The characters name is Victoria Highcastle(faceclaim Keira Knightley) who's a MI6 agent (codename Dove) on holiday in Oxford. She was practially raised by the Thrusday's.

This little story takes place in the middle of an argument. (Warnings: not proofread, kidnapping and profanity)

// Alone again

"I'm not a good person. I can admit that. I've hurt people, killed when needed to. I don't deserve someone like you. I'm not soft, sweet or docile. I'm sharp, stubborn and too bloody stuck in my own head. You desrve someone great. Academic, maybe. I'm not like that, I've read Proust and listened to Wagner, though I'd much rather read a Christie in one sitting and listen to the Beatles. I'm not sorry I'm not some stiff in a skirt who dreams of white knights who don't exist. Instead, I'm standing on my own two feet trying to keep bullets out my head everyday. And I won't waste my time or yours any more. Good day, Sergeant." Vicky said that in one breath and shot for the door.

But Morse took ahold of her wrist before her hand could've touched the doorknob.

"Don't leave. Please," he begged, his blue eyes shining.

"Why should I? You've given me no reason to stay." Victoria said, sharply tugging her hand away from his grip and pulling the door open. "I'm sorry I'm not good enough."

Morse opened his mouth to speak but she slammed the door shut behind her without another word.

"You are."

The marvelous voice of a soprano still flowed through the air.

Morse frustreadly threw the vase that Vicky had left there and it hit the player. Shattering of porecealian was heard and the music seised.

Once again, once bloody again he'd lost someone.

//

All alone. Again. Vicky really couldn't keep a man could she.

She stumbled on the pavement trying to hail a taxi.

"Fuuck!" She grumbled as she felt her right legs ankle twist. She lost her balance but didn't hit the ground. Arms wrapped around her middle not letting her fall.

"Sorry, love but you're not going home," a sickeningly honeyed voice purred into her ear. She struggled to fight for she was held back by another person. Something heavy hit the back her head and she fell into darkness.

The next moment her head was ringing. She kept her eyes closed, trying to sense her surroundings some other way. She was bound tightly by scrachy ropes. Hands and legs. Her mouth was covered, so only muffled noises came out of her.

There was a something that smelled horriblly and oddly familiar. She heard strong winds blowing against metall and her own harsh breathing. The air and ground she lay on was cold.

She slowly opened her eyes. She was in a warehouse. She wanted to roll her eyes but that only made her head ache more. She tried to stand up leaning on the wall behind her but stumbled and fell to her side.

A laugh sounded in the room. She was no longer alone. Maybe she never was.

"Its so nice of you to come around," a voice too familiar. Slight german accent and very cocky, "Dove, you really thought I wouldn't find you?"

Casper Felixrey. A mobster from Switzerland.

One of dangerous leaders of the worlds underworld. Or so he prided himself with that title. His eyes were silver and he had a black suit. With a spray of isovaleric acid. That was that smell.

"Well, dove, cat got your tounge," he purred. Now Vicky felt shivers go down her spine. He was someone she had heard of a lot through her collegues. He had been on the wanted list for many countries since WWII. He snapped his gloved fingers and one of his assistants came to her. The assistant moved the cloth away from her mouth.

Vicky jumps away, cold sweat forming on her skin. The persons fingers were cold.

She breathed in and tried to sit up. She failed, "Felixrey, what are you doing here? You don't have diplomatic immunity here!"

"For now, Dove. Cogs are always in motion." He smirked, "Besides, it was worth the risk, killing you will be my crowing achievment. A high rankig MI6 agent."

"That's low," she tried to bring him down, not able to keep a sardonic grin of her face. "Wasn't there a politician for you to assasinate?"

"Ugh, you are boring me. Yuri, shut her up." He flited his hand in gesture and walked away but not without saying. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, Dove."

Before Vicky could comment, she was pushed back into the dark.

//

Meanwhile back in Oxford. Morse couldn't sleep, he just sat in his armchair. He didn't want to go to bed without her. Most of the booze in his apartment had been drunk. Everywhere he looked there was a part of her somewhere. A book, vinyl or piece of clothing, like they were always there. The smell of orchids also lingered. A part of him wanted to go ahead and call her phone at her flat. Several times.

But he didn't and ended up passing out in the same armchair.

The morning brought him a back- and headache. He did try and call her but no one picked up.

He arrived at the station and his eyes went to the board. There had to be a connection between the body they found in the lake and the Adamson case.

__________________

A/N what do you think? Comment, like, reblog.

#endeavour morse #endeavour fanfic #endeavour #endeavour x oc #MI6 #secret agent #morseverse #writing wip #wip game #wip tag game #60s girl

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chemicalbull1 · 10 days

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#chemical #chemical reactions #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance #my chemical frank #my chemical fucking romance

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hopetribune · 2 months

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