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edgarmartinm · 3 months

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The Ultimate Guide to Roof: Every Little Thing You Need to Find Out About Roof Installation and Maintenance

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#leaky roof repair #same day roof repair

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frootrollup1 · 7 months

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The Ultimate Overview to Roof Covering: Whatever You Required to Find Out About Roof Installation and Upkeep

Roofing is an essential facet of every home, providing security versus the aspects and ensuring the safety and security and comfort of its passengers. Whether you are a property owner looking to mount a brand-new roof covering or an attentive private curious about preserving your existing one, this extensive guide is below to aid. From understanding various roofing products and designs to suggestions on locating the ideal contractor, we've obtained you covered.One of the vital

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#emergency roof leak repair chicago #leaky roof repair #same day roof repair

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patwalsh · 8 months

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#Leaking Taps Warrnambool #Residential Plumbing Warrnambool #Plumbing Warrnambool #Blocked Pipes Warrnambool #Plumbers Warrnambool #Toilet Repairs Warrnambool #Hot Water Replacement Warrnambool #Hot Water System Warrnambool #Gasfitting Warrnambool #Kitchen and Bathroom Renovations Warrnambool #Roofing and Spouting Warrnambool #Pat Walsh Plumber & Gasfitter #same day hot water replacement Warrnambool #gas appliance installation Warrnambool #toilet suite installations Warrnambool #bathroom renovations Warrnambool #kitchen renovations Warrnambool #leakings toilets Warrnambool #shower installations Warrnambool

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feral-ballad · 2 months

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“My name is Nour Saqer, for the name remains when all is lost. I turned 22 years old last November. Yes. My youthful time was wasted on horrible days. Yes. Those days still continue.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I am 22 years old. I am a fifth-year dental student at Al-Azhar University of Gaza. I am an aspiring student. I am eager and passionate about my studies. Until the last minute, I was allowed to stay at my house on Oct. 7th. 2023 I was still working on a scientific research proposal that was supposed to be published by me and my teammates of young researchers late in November, that year.

This picture of me was taken late 2022 during an international dental conference held in campus.

During my college years alone. Me and my family have had to forcefully evacuate, and run out of our house four times. In 2019, 2021, 2022, and finally in 2023. Each time was in fear of the same threat; meeting our deaths under rubble. My name is Nour Saqer. And I have always been a Gazan. Each of those past times. If we were fortunate enough, we would discover that our home was in repairable damage. There would be a roof over our heads still. We were still fortunate. We still had luck.

But ever since October 7th. I haven't returned home. We were among the first families to evacuate Al-Rimal neighborhood from the very first day of this genocide, we had to turn our backs to it and expect no return. Two floors of my family house, along with my father's store, and only source of income, have been severely destructed due to neighboring missiles. And my university buildings were heavily exploded. All forms of life have been reaped from my city. My hometown.

This is what's left of our campus. I was supposed to have my graduation ceremony here.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I had an enthusiastic heart. And an energetic body. I played sports and walked down every street until I couldn't. I loved my family and friends dearly. I wrote poems about them. I spent time loving them and cherishing their presence. I loved life with all its little things. With all its unattainable things. I loved the grass and the tall buildings. And I loved all people. I loved my people. All their faces. All their talents. All their hidden lives. All we shared. Until we didn't. Everything I have ever loved I lost.

This picture of me was taken during a happy moment on the roof of our house.

This is all that is left of that picture now.

I am currently sheltered in Rafah with my family of 7. Sharing a place with 30 other homeless people. By the end of Ramadan, me and my family would have to evacuate and seek shelter for yet the 8th time due to housing problems. I am so tired of not having any sense of stability. Nothing to guarantee. Nothing to call my own. Every passing minute the situation in Rafah gets worse. Every passing minute I am losing loved ones and relatives. Every passing minute costs me my sanity. Costs me health. Costs me my basic rights to simply live.

I have nothing left to lose or pay the price with except for my life.

I don’t know how to retell my life story in limited words, how to make the most ordinary moments sound precious. How do I equate my value to someone deserving a life of safety? How do I shape myself as someone worth saving?

I have been interviewing myself for days. All my stories are choking me. All my grief is piling up and muting me. I keep trying to find a way to present the best of myself. To make myself someone you'd want to look at. Listen to. And even more,

Help.

I am finally placing both hope and faith in your helpful hands. I am asking you. Please put an end to this continuing tragedy. And help me get to safety. Before it's too late.

It should be in your knowledge that:

It costs $5,000 per person to get out of Rafah through the Boarder Crossing to Egypt. The rest of the donations will be to secure my tution money for the fifth and final year of dental school.

Thank you.”

#kindly read this !!#please help nour in any way you can #if you can’t donate then at least ask your friends & family to share & donate #it will count as something #palestine #gaza #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #🇵🇸#ethnic cleansing #genocide

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twst-kumi · 12 days

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What about yan malleus who courts his darling with fae practices?

So what I see the most about fairies is about how they would kidnap theirs bride and very little about actual courtship. But if we are talking about wedding, I did read somewhere that both fairy couple would give each other some task to accomplish before said wedding. Of course the task must be under the spouse capacity, so they could accomplish it well.

Warning: Yandere, forced marriage.

Your name

Fairy and Fae are a very closeted species, so very little are known about them. Malleus should have thought about it before courting you. You were HIS cute little human, so pure and innocent. A quality loved by fairies on other species. Fairy are quite unfair and selfish in their expectations for other than their own kin. And Malleus are the same, if not more. For the fair folk, their human lovers (or any other species) should be pure, innocent and loyal. Qualities you already hold in Malleus' eyes. "Oh? You want to exchange name, child of man?"

He is overjoyed by this. Name hold power, that mainly why he refused to give you his name the first time you both met. Of course since you so naively told him yours, he already had A LOT of power over you. When he developed feeling for you, Malleus wanted to kidnap you at first. But Lilia convinced him not to. It was a very old and outdated rules. Too old for this modern day and age.

That why after the incident during VDC you asked to exchange name once again, he was over the moon. Malleus had yours, but you also wanted his. "Uh fu fu! I hope you understand the meaning of your word, Child of man." Before you could ask about what he meant by that, he gave you his full name. The name that will be attached to yours soon enough.

Now that you both exchanged name, you two are officially in a relationship. You both are owning each other now. Which means that you both are now on an "equal" standing... In theory. While it's true, you being magicless mean you can't really use his name against him. But Malleus will gladly oblige if you need anything from him.

But Malleus know that name isn't highly protected in human society. So even though you are both engaged, Malleus decide to court you a bit. Fairy and dragons like pretty and shiny thing, so of course the draconian prince decided to gift you with some of his prettiest gem. By then you have already learned some fairy custom so you knew not to accept a gift from a fairy without giving something back. "Oh my, you shouldn't have, my dear child of man. You don't know how much this mean to me." He laughed delighted to see you have accepted his courtship and give him another one back. It was a pretty stained glass bracelet, but seeing your financial status he guess this is the best you could find. He is even more happy when you said you started to learn Fairy custom. That mean that you did it consciously and love him too, isn't it? Malleus take it as a sign that he could finally move forward with preparing the wedding.

As per the Fairy custom, Malleus prepared some task for you. He also didn't hesitate to ask for some task for him to accomplish. Since he you are magicless, he decided to give you some easy task. Like helping polish his horn, or going on a stroll with him. One time he even demanded that you cook for him. For the task Malleus has been asking from you. They were all so simple and adorable (in his eyes) that he couldn't help but swoon. Knowing that he loved to do his laundry on his own, you asked him to help you wash and hang them. Which he did eagerly. While he enjoyed it, it felt like you were preparing him for your marital life. "Look like the roof need to be repaired. Do you want me to do it, Child of man?", "I don't want to bother you with it Tsunotaro. Are you sure?" Malleus laugh it off before fixing it with magic. "It's no problem at all." He said with a smile.

You discovered about your engagement and wedding by Lilia. The wedding approaching the retired general took upon him to teach you every thing you needed to know for your life as Malleus' spouse and future consort of Briar Valley. When you discovered it, you ran to Malleus demanding explanation. The Fae prince just smiled as if you were just throwing a tantrum. "I did warn you, Child of man. Exchanging name are proof we are now betrothed. We have already completed most of the wedding rituals now only the ceremony are left." It broke his heart he saw you trying to push him away and leave. How you called him crazy, and tried to back out of the wedding. Malleus pinned your behavior on stress. You must be very anxious about your future as his consort. It must be why. The fairy dragon sighed before using your name against you. He hugged you gently and kissed your lips softly. "I know it's a very big step. I'm also anxious about it. But don't worry, I will take care of everything." He smiled as you were under his control unable to move. This is why you never give your name to a fairy.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #malleus draconia #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus draconia

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rboooks · 11 months

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The Adoptive Son. Part 3

A pair of large, cornflower blue eyes stare across the living room of a luxurious penthouse at a nervous-looking man. The pair belong to a young teenager named Tim Drake, who, for the past few weeks, had spoken only a handful of words with Dick since Operation Honey Pot had begun.

They were waiting for Crowne to go get the surprise he had special ordered for Drake from an acquaintance

He tended to stare at him whenever he was around. Sometimes Dick didn't think Drake would even blink. It felt a little like Drake was starstruck by Dick- but he couldn't figure out what he had done to earn such rapture from Drake.

Other times, Drake would study him the same way a scientist would study a newly discovered bug- fascinated but weary, as though he didn't know if it was dangerous. So the scientist needed to pin the bug to a board and take it apart to understand it.

It sort of made Dick uneasy.

The night Crowne had brought him back, Drake happily played some video games while his babysitter- a sweet college student named Nancy- had been working on her assignment at the table.

Drake had turned to greet Crowne and had promptly choked on his own spit at the sight of Dick. Crowne had run off to cook them a meal, insisting Nancy finish her homework and not worry as he cooked.

She had smiled gratefully, turning back to her books while Drake had been rooted by the tv, with the most awe-struck expression Dick had ever seen.

Dick is a little surprised by how well Crowne treats Nancy Salazar.

Nancy is studying to be a pediatric occupational therapist. She adores children and is fascinated by the physical therapist aspect of the medical field.

Dick had learned that Nancy had been struggling to pay her Gotham University tuition after losing her job to a rouge attacking her workplace and the company deciding they needed to make budget cuts to complete the repairs.

She had also fallen behind on her bills due to her father suffering a medical emergency and the family pooling together what little they had to help him get life-saving surgery.

Her dad had been the family's primary provider for as long as Nancy could remember. Since neither of her parents could speak English, they had limited employment options. Nancy's siblings were all younger then than her, so they couldn't help much with the bills.

She had tried to take over as the eldest daughter, but soon it became apparent she was close to losing the house her parents had left their home country for to build a better future for their children. It devastated her.

She had been on the brink of becoming desperate for any job when she had run into Crowne at a wifi-cafe shop. She had seen Tim struggling to get through the door with his wheelchair and had gone to help him. (the child had seen internet videos of parkour and chosen to attempt the tricks himself. He had broken his leg from jumping from one roof to another.)

Her kind actions got Crowne attention, and he invited her to sit with them, then witnessed her have a meltdown when the owner of the cafe told her he had just filled the barista position she had come for an interview for.

It must have all piled up until Nancy couldn't hold back.

Crowne and Drake had consulted her, listening to her woes. After she calmed down, the two adults exchanged contact information to get to know each other. He had offered a babysitting job with complete benefits and a full-ride scholarship. Crowne had even gone far and beyond, paying off all her father's medical expenses and debts.

Dick knew all this because he had done a background check on her to see if she was involved in Crowne's schemes. Her story felt just a tab bit too far fetch for all the good fortune of meeting Crowne that fateful day.

She even admitted that she was sure she would have resorted to a life of crime with how desperate she had been back then.

When she came back clean- just the eldest daughter of immigrants trying to make it in this hellish city- Dick had thought Crowne was infatuated with her.

Nancy was a very attractive young lady, and it would not be the first time a rich man took advantage of a woman in finical distress. He hadn't found evidence yet, but Dick would keep an eye on her to ensure she was safe.

Her involvement was a lot easier to dismiss than it was for Drake.

"You and Danny are dating. He told me last night." Drake says after about half an hour of Scientist-looking-at-bug staring.

Dick throws on his best Wanye smile, making sure it's both charming and besotted. "Yes. We've agreed to become official. I hope you don't mind."

Drake tilts his head, looking ironically enough like a bird. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On what your intentions with Danny are." Drake puts down his Crowne laptop, which Danny had been programming and designing back when they started talking. The design is still the slimmest Dick had ever seen, small enough that it sat comfortably in Drake's school back and robust enough that it worked for all his gaming and photo developing.

It took Crowne about two months to complete what he called "modern," but it wouldn't be out to the rest of the public until Christmas when Crowne planned to reveal it to raise profits as high as possible.

The only reason Drake was allowed to have a model so early was simply that Crowne obviously saw him as a younger brother and sometimes maybe even a son. Dick certainly pick that up in the two-month undercover mission.

He must win over Drake as soon as possible for the sake of the mission. So far, he's come up with nothing incriminating, but more kids have disappeared. If the other boy can't stand him, it will seriously risk his access to Crowne's home and any clues on the missing children.

"I want to give him the life he deserves." Dick settles on. He's noticed that Drake is crazy intelligent. There was no reason to outright lie and get caught if the boy was smart enough to connect the dots.

"Danny deserves the world." Drake nods, stating the words like a fact. "Whatever you searching for, you won't find here."

What?

"Do you not want me to date Danny?"

Drake pauses, carefully turning the question in his head before answering. "I want someone to date Danny because they like him"

"I do like him."

"Do you?" Drake's eyes are practically ice, and Dick gets the sense he just walked into a trap. Carefully, he double-taps his left belt loop sending a warning sound to the Batcave. They won't pull him out yet, but it will have either Babs or Jason nearby in gear, just in case.

A soft click is heard from his right earring, and he knows Alfred is listening.

"I really do." He says in a warm voice.

Drake seems skeptical.

"Danny always had people falling for him. I had to tell him Jenny Wilson wasn't asking him for a private tour of his kitchen when she tried to get him to bring her back to the penthouse. He honestly thought she cared about his grape peeler. He's like that, you know? Though thoughtful, caring, kind, intelligent, and strong, Danny can't see that people generally think he's what they would want in a romantic partner. I think he was bullied a lot as a kid before his adoption, and it's ruined his ability to see his worth."

Dick tries not to scowl. Yes, he's suspected the same thing. He just hopes it's not why Crowne has inflicted so much pain.

He can't stand people who use bullying as an excuse. It doesn't justify anything they do, it also demonizes the victims, and they get too scared to report what they are going through. ''I can't claim to not be like the other people because I don't know them. I know myself, and I can promise that every inch of me wants to see Danny living the life he deserves."

Whatever Drake is going to say gets cut off by Crowne walking back from the elevator carrying a box. "Tim, come look!"

He settles the box on the coffee table, so Drake can reach over and open it. There is a small gasp of delight from the boy as he pulls out a well-done Robin hoodie. It's not over the top like most Robin merch, but it's not subtle either. It's so nicely done. Dick can even tell it's based on Jason rather than him.

The second Robin is Drake's favorite. The teen prices it by holding it up and cheering, "Oh my gosh! I love it, I love it! Where did you get this!?"

"One of Nancy's friends is majoring in fashion design. She overheard me say I wanted to get the second Robin merch that wasn't a blatant grab for money, and she had her friend draw up some designs. I will sponsor her and sell her work in our stores."

Crowne is wearing a Robin hoodie of his own, but this one is based on Dick, and for a moment, his heart soars at the sight of Crowne in his family colors. It's a dangerous thing.

He knows one of the pitfalls of undercover work is getting too attached to the lies. He couldn't allow himself to actually fall for someone like Danny Crowne. Nothing good would come out of it once he saw him jailed for everything he's done.

He hasn't gotten anything to show Crowne's crimes, but Bruce had enough proof for the shell companies doing strange and dangerous experiments.

They needed to figure out what the experiments were attempting to do. Still, they found small clues: systematics showed weapons that didn't intend to harm humans, half-erased research on "eco-energy," what looked like machines attempting to rip holes in reality, and glowing green liquid that made Bruce pale when Jason brought back a simple.

It made Dick angry that the liquid prompted his ex-mentor to contact Talia al Ghul to ask, but she claimed to know nothing of Danny Crowne. Bruce felt she was lying, so after asking Wonder Woman and Superman for help, the big three went to Nanda Parbat to look for clues.

Dick wasn't sure what they found, but Bruce had a surprise for him back at the cave once he finished visiting his "boyfriend."

They could take down Crowne Co. with what they did have, but there was a chance Crowne could claim that his scientists went rogue and let them take the fall. Also, they didn't have any names of the scientists. It was like the invisible man was conducting them on his own.

Dick had to wait a little longer. See the big plan and unravel it so everything can never be rebuilt.

Yes, he's only seen a good man who may be socially awkward once you get past his regal composure, and his speech may be a bit too formal. A passionate inventor who always tried to find a new ways to improve people's lives, especially in medicine.

A man who cooked because he liked feeding people.

A man who offered a helping hand because his parents were often mocked for their careers- Dick suspected they may have been prostitutes based on the small comments of people thinking "it wasn't real jobs and they should be ashamed for themselves"- but most of all, Dick found a man who seemed lonely.

Someone lost after life displaced him, desperately trying to find himself again. It made Dick feel better knowing someone like him was doing the same.

"What is your opinion, Dick?" Crowne asks, doing a slight turn. Dic can't fight the urge to lean in for a quick kiss, telling himself it was all for the mission and the butterflies he felt in his stomach were terrible indigestion.

Crowne smiled into the kiss, pressing a second one on Dick's lips before leaning back, looking a little flustered still, and over his shoulder, he saw Drake's eyes narrow.

Maybe the kid was jealous?

He didn't know, but he better keeps an eye on Tim Drake. Something told him not to underestimate that boy.

"I got you a Nightwing too. The first Robin and Nightwing are one of my favorite heroes. They make me feel safe. I know I shouldn't worry with them guarding me at night." Crowne says, and Dick fights hard not to flinch.

You have no reason to feel guilt. It's for the mission.

He hopes he finds proof soon.

(Part 1), (part 2)

#dc x dp crossover #The adoptive son #Part 3 #Death Defying #Tim is catching on that Nightwing may be playing with his brother's heart #Nancy is just another person luckly enough to be under Phantom's protection #Can you guess what bruce found?#Dick is starting to catch feelings

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month

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i wanna be your slave

for @subeddieweek day six with the prompt public sex

rated e | 1,596 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie should have taken the opportunity to run back inside and use the phone that he knew was sitting in the office backstage to call someone before the rain started coming down harder. He should have risked getting stuck inside the heated building instead of getting stuck inside his van that wouldn’t start in the middle of winter.

Rain storms shouldn’t even happen in December. Shouldn’t it all be snow or something?

He groaned and banged his head against the wheel.

The rain continued to pour down, louder and faster, to the point where Eddie could barely even hear himself think.

At least Steve would probably come check here when he realized he wasn’t at the trailer.

He just had to make it through the next 30 minutes or so. The rain might even stop by then.

Eddie hummed to himself, any song he could think of, even one of Corroded Coffin’s newest attempts at an original song. He played with his hair, braiding and unbraiding the same strands over and over to keep his hands busy.

He checked his watch more frequently than was helpful.

Eventually, headlights flashed in his side mirror and he heard the low rumble of another car.

He checked to see that it was Steve before unlocking the door and jumping out.

Steve barely had his car in park before he jumped out of, leaving the car running as he rushed over to pull Eddie against him.

“Shit, baby, I was so worried. What happened?”

For some reason, Eddie felt tears pooling in his eyes.

It was just an issue with the van, and probably a pretty easy repair for Wayne to do tomorrow. It’s not like he got stranded alone for hours getting soaked in the rain. It’s not like Steve forgot about him.

“Oh, baby boy.” Steve’s hands cupped his cheeks and Eddie couldn’t really tell if he had actually started crying or if the rain was falling down his face. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“It won’t start,” Eddie shivered. It may have been a bit warmer than usual for December this week, but it was still barely 40 degrees, and with the ice cold rain falling on them, Eddie knew he’d get sick if he stayed out in it for much longer.

“C’mon, I have the heat on in my car. Let’s get you warm.”

Steve gently guided him into the backseat, surprising him by joining him instead of getting in the driver’s seat to take them home.

“Jacket and shirt off, c’mon,” Steve nudged his jacket off his shoulders and Eddie sniffed as he followed his instructions. “If you take everything off, you’ll get warmer faster.”

“You just want me naked in the backseat of your car, Harrington,” Eddie grumbled, but knew he was right. He managed to get his soaking wet jeans off and left everything in a pile on the floorboards. “Now what?”

Steve reached under his own body and pulled out a towel, unfolding it and gesturing for Eddie to move for a minute so he could lay it out across the seat.

“Were you a Boy Scout or something?” Eddie felt the warmth slowly seeping into his pores, though his hair was still dripping onto his bare shoulders and chest.

“Nah. Just learned to be prepared for anything.” Steve’s hand rested on his knee. “I’m gonna shut off the headlights while we sit here. Just hang tight.”

Eddie was naked in the backseat of Steve’s car in the parking lot of Hawkins High while lightning flashed directly across from them and rain beat the roof of the car.

If he wasn’t living this moment, he never would’ve believed it was possible.

Steve’s hands were warm when they circled Eddie’s wrists, pulling him into Steve’s lap. He’d removed his own clothes sometime in the last minute when Eddie was lost in thought.

“Just gonna stay here for a few minutes while you warm up, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

And then it actually hit him that they were both naked.

No one would be checking on them as long as this storm was happening.

No one would even see their cars in the parking lot with how heavy the rain was right now.

They could do anything they wanted.

As if he could read his mind, Steve huffed a laugh against Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re always so eager to get fucked, aren’t you sweet boy? Even if someone could see.”

“No one will see,” Eddie protested.

“Maybe I want people to see.”

Eddie felt himself getting hard at the thought of them being caught, of Steve Harrington having to explain to Officer Powell why they were both naked in the backseat of his car. Of how many people had probably been fucked in the back of this car, but how none of those people had gotten Steve like this.

“Maybe I wanna fuck you so good that you scream my name so loud the people in the neighborhood a mile away hear and call the cops. Maybe I hope someone stops by to check on the cars and sees me so deep inside you they couldn’t possibly separate us.”

Eddie whimpered.

Yeah, he needed Steve to fuck him. Now.

“You’re still wet from when I got my tongue in you earlier, baby,” Steve said as he ran his thumb across his hole, still slick with spit. “But I came prepared tonight.”

Steve held up a small bottle of lube. Was that travel size? Did they seriously make a travel size bottle of lube? And Steve bought it?

Eddie loved him so much.

“Relax for me, baby. Gonna open you up more so you can sit on my cock. Gonna be nice and warm after, okay?” Steve’s lips brushed against his neck, his collarbone, his nipple. His fingers, now coated with lube, rubbed at his entrance.

One finger pushed in, quickly followed by a second one. Steve was good at reading him, knew exactly what he could take and what he needed.

Eddie liked to feel full, even if it had just a hint of too much, just a tiny little twinge of pain.

“Gonna ride my fingers?” Steve cupped the back of his head with his free hand, scratching at his scalp.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, didn’t notice the way he rose and fell naturally as Steve worked him open. He wasn’t even trying to get more from him, he never had to push really. Steve was eager to give him more before Eddie had to beg.

At least since they started referring to each other as boyfriends, anyway.

A third finger entered him, and Eddie groaned at the stretch.

“Feels good,” Eddie threw his head back, only getting a little frustrated at the way the top of his head brushed against the roof of the car. It wasn’t ideal to be doing this in such a small space, but it was hot.

“Gonna spread you out on my bed next time so I can watch. Love seeing you open up on my fingers,” Steve bit down on his shoulder, both of them moaning as Steve’s fingers worked faster.

“Need you, need you. Please.”

Okay, so maybe he still had to beg a little.

But the moment he asked, Steve’s fingers were being replaced by his leaking cock, pushing in slow enough for Eddie to tell him to stop if he needed a minute.

“Fuck,” Eddie’s head fell onto Steve’s shoulder, putting him at a somewhat awkward angle, but Steve’s cock brushed perfectly against his prostate. “Oh, fuck. Can I come?”

“Now? Already?” Eddie could hear the knowing smirk in Steve’s voice and he wasn’t a fan.

“Yes, now. Already. Please.”

“Come when you want. But I’m not stopping until I’ve filled you up,” Steve said as he moved his hips faster.

True to his word, when Eddie came not even a minute later, shaking apart in Steve’s lap, tears dripping onto his still slightly rain-damp skin, Steve kept thrusting in and out. He didn’t even slow down, just kept the pace that Eddie knew he needed to get off.

The constant pressure against his prostate after he came was almost too much, and definitely would be too much soon. He felt the haze of overstimulation washing over him, let his brain go a bit cloudy as Steve used him to get off.

They didn’t do this very often; Steve was very much against possibly actually hurting Eddie and fucking him after his orgasm usually led to him wincing in pain. But sometimes, when the timing was just right, Eddie would start to float into subspace just when things got a bit less comfortable.

“Color, baby.”

“Green. Feel good.”

“Yeah, you look like you feel good, sweet boy.”

The compliments always made him float faster, make him drift just that bit further away, where he could just be held by Steve and know that he was being taken care of.

The rain seemed to be quieter, but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to move his face from the safety of Steve’s neck right now.

Steve’s hands tightened against his back, pushing him down onto his cock.

Warmth filled him as Steve moaned against his ear.

“So good for me, baby,” Steve whispered, his hips slowing to a stop. “Wish I could stay inside you forever.”

“Stay.”

Steve laughed. “I can’t stay inside you, sweet boy. Gotta clean you up and get you home.”

“Later.”

Steve gave him a minute or two, maybe longer, it was hard to tell with his brain checked out.

Day seven: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #subeddieweek #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #cw: public sex #bottom eddie munson #top steve harrington

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discount-shades · 1 year

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Contract Spouse Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Living the Lie

A/N: to quote M*A*S*H “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.”

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst, war, PTSD, civilian deaths, child death, nightmares

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Jake and Pip settle into living together.

Previous Masterlist Next

Two weeks after you had settled into Jake's house in San Diego you were on the phone with Sami. Your almost daily phone calls with Jake had been replaced by phone calls to Sami. You look up from the pasta you were stirring on the stove as Jake walks through the side door. He goes to greet you but cuts himself off when he sees you are on the phone.

“Who is it?” You read his lips as he mouths the question and you mouth the answer back. “Hi Sami,” he calls out.

“Jake says hi,” you say with a resigned sigh. Relaying a conversation between the two siblings when you were on the phone with Jake had started very soon after the wedding and now that you were living with Jake, the habit had immediately resumed in reverse and you had long since given up trying to get them to talk to each other. Jake now sports a smile identical to the one Sami always had on her face during these conversations.

When you finally hang up the phone you roll your eyes at Jake. “You guys are ridiculous, I hate you both.”

“No you don’t,” he grins as he heads to his room to change out of his work clothes “You love us.”

“That's the problem.” You mumble to yourself as you dump the pasta into a serving dish and set the table before sitting down to dinner.

“I got two more quotes on redoing the roof,” you tell Jake between bites of alfredo. “I think we should go with the second, they’re more expensive but have better reviews and can begin sooner.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Jake shrugs, relieved you had taken over the repairs he had been too busy to arrange.

“And the contractor for the hot water tank called, he had a cancellation and can come replace ours tomorrow.” Jake just nods in confirmation and you fight a sigh.

The house that Jake had bought a few months ago, though overall in good shape, had needed a few updates and you had quickly taken over organizing them. Talking about hiring contractors over dinner makes you feel more married than you have ever felt before. The monotony of cohabitation made slipping into the rhythm of life together automatic.

Living with Jake was easy. You worked together seamlessly, easily dividing household chores and responsibilities. Chatting in the evenings, watching tv, or just sitting in silence reading. The two of you just fit together. He had even tolerated you reorganizing every drawer and shelf in the common spaces with minimal cursing over not being able to find things.

Life continues in the same thread. You and Jake grocery shopping, going for walks, cooking, and doing dishes, just easily living together. But as time went on you were finding it harder and harder.

Everyday you had to stifle your imagination as you pictured him coming through the door and giving you a kiss. The little part in your heart that you could never squish down was still hoping that one day Jake would look at you and fall in love.

The logical part tried to keep your breathing steady when Jake would brush past you in the kitchen. Tried to keep you from melting into his touch when he placed his hand on your lower back when you were walking together in public. Tried to keep from staring when you were together.

It didn’t help that Jake frequently walks around without his shirt. Whether it was first thing in the morning, after a shower, or after a run. You loved and hated it. When you said goodnight and went to your separate rooms you wanted to follow him into the master bedroom and finally end your embarrassingly long dry spell. You should have hooked up with your cute neighbor in your final days in Austin. Maybe that would have made things easier.

– – –

“Jake,” your voice startles him out of his sleep. He can hear you tapping gently on his door before easing it open. “We have a problem.”

“What's wrong?” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up in bed, squinting in the hall light shining through the open door. The rain from earlier is still lightly falling outside. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight, The roof is leaking.” You tell him, hair pulled up into a sloppy bun and pillow creases on your cheek. “I woke up in a puddle, it's coming through the light fixture above the bed.”

Jake mumbles curses. He had been sleeping soundly and would have likely been able to sleep the whole night if the roof hadn’t leaked. He helps you move the bed and set up a big rubbermaid bin under the leak to catch the dripping water while you strip the wet bedding off the mattress and throw it in the bathtub. You flip the breaker and he carefully removes the light so the water can fall directly into the bin without pooling, you dutifully hold the flashlight.

After you follow him into the attic to see where the leak is. Fortunately it is only in one spot and the rain has slowed to a stop. Using the towels you had so neatly organized, you help him mop up all the water you can. You place another bin under the main leak but it has slowed to a drip. Working next to you in the dimly lit attic, Jake realizes he never would have noticed the leak so soon if not for you.

“When are they supposed to fix the roof?” Jake asks you.

“Monday,” you say sadly and he sighs. “If you leave all the information for me I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow.”

He follows you down the ladder with the wet towels and throws them into the washing machine. You follow with the towels from your room. Your teeth chattering and he looks at you for the first time and notices that your pajamas are soaking wet.

“Pip you're going to get sick, go change.” You roll your eyes at him but comply and grab a dry pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom so you can leave your wet ones in the tub. When you come out of the bathroom he meets you in the hall. “I dumped the bin in your room, we should be good to go back to sleep.” You nod but don't follow him; grabbing your pillow you turn to go into the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“The couch.” You stare at him in confusion. “My mattress is soaked.”

“Yeah but mine's not.” You stand there staring at him and he suddenly feels like he has overstepped. The look in your eye is unreadable but you just agree quietly and follow him. When he reaches the bed and you crawl in beside him he feels his stomach clench. He can't remember the last time he slept next to someone, it's been years, definitely before the nightmares started. What if he moves and hits you, or says something he doesn’t want you to hear?

It’s awkward. As soon as he lies down beside you he feels the need to move and eases himself over to his other side. He can hear you rolling over when he does. You don’t say anything but he can tell you are tense. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted you share his bed. “Do you want to build a pillow wall?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You roll over again and he can feel your eyes on him. “Good night Jake.”

“Goodnight.” You stop moving but he can tell you are not asleep by your breathing. He listens and tries not to move but he can’t sleep if you are awake. He feels the bed shift every time you move and shuffle your feet. He stares into the dark hyper aware of you beside him, pretending to sleep before he finally breaks the silence. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“My feet are cold,” you tell him. “I can’t sleep with cold feet.”

Jake bites back a sigh and says the thing he doesn’t want to do. “You can put them on me.”

Your soft laugh almost makes it worthwhile. “I don’t think you mean that,” you counter. And he reaches down to feel your feet and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how icy they are.

“Come on,” he says resignedly and urges you to roll over so you can press your feet to his warm legs. When you settle he finds himself focusing on your cold toes to distract himself from the warmth coming from your body lying beside him.

As your feet warm he can feel the tension leave you as you relax into sleep, your breath slowing and evening out and soon he finds himself drifting off as well.

– – –

Maverick is carrying a lifeless Rooster in his arms. He is standing in the desert. Rubble and fire from a destroyed building around him. Blood is dripping down Rooster's extended arm and steadily falling from his fingertips and onto the dry sand. Jake stands, blood pounding in his ears with every drop that hits the ground. Maverick is speaking to him in a language he can't understand, repeating the same phrase.

When he realizes it’s weird to see Maverick cradling Rooster so easily everything seems to blur and when it clears there is now a father holding his young son in front of him. The boy's eyes are open and staring blankly at the sky. The man speaks but it is Maverick's voice he hears, “You shot at the wrong time, his death is your fault Hangman.” The man advances towards him brandishing the body of his dead son repeating the words in Maverick’s voice, becoming angrier and more grief-stricken with every repetition as Jake retreats, his heart pounding, unable to escape.

– – –

“No!” Jake sits up gasping. His heart is hammering wildly as he tries to breathe. He feels like there is a weight on his chest, contracting his lungs and keeping his ribcage from expanding. The image of the boy burned into his retinas.

“Jake?” The soft sound of your voice startles him and he flinches when he sees you move before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Trying to rub away what he saw. Your hand is hesitant as it brushes against his back, gently moving and pressing his t-shirt into his sweat soaked skin. He wants to tell you to stop, that he doesn’t deserve comfort after what he did. He wants to get up and leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there frozen and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand smoothing over his spine as his breathing steadies. When the chill sets in he strips off the sweaty shirt and lies back down on his back.

“Nightmare?” you ask quietly already knowing the answer. He nods even though he is not sure you can see him. He’s told you about the nightmares, never why or what he sees but you know he has trouble sleeping. You're the only one who knows.

You lie on your side and he can feel your eyes in the dark. Unable to rub his back you place your hand on his chest and resume the relaxing motion. But the feel of your hand on his bare chest is too much and he stops you, flattening your hand to his heart. When you go to pull away he reaches up with his other hand and clutches your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t go.” The words slip out before he can stop them and he clenches his jaw to keep from speaking more. He can feel you nod you head beside him. You slowly begin flexing your fingers and he relaxes the hand flattening yours and you begin to gently scratch his chest with your finger tips. He finally lets out a shuddering breath and shifts his grip on your wrist so he can feel your steady pulse.

“Breath with me,” you whisper. “Focus on my breaths.” he lies beside you and listens to you breathe and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand pressed to his heart and the gentle caress of your finger tips. He feels the butterfly kiss of your lips on his shoulder and his skin burns. Your soft breaths moves over his skin and his heart aches.

When your fingers stop moving he knows you are asleep but doesn’t let go of your hand, eventually he falls into a dreamless sleep listening to your soft breaths.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #top gun x reader #hangman topgun #topgun

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dancingtotuyo · 2 months

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All Farms…

Javier Peña

Summary: Javier has to decide what to do with the ranch

Warnings/Tags: grief, loss, hurt (no comfort?), ranch/farm used interchangeably here.

Notes: I started this on Christmas after walking my grandparents farm which happens to be the same farm I lived on for the first 7 years of my life. My grandparents are getting older which has sparked a lot of conversation with what will happen to the farm when they're gone. Fast forward to now, I'm currently processing a lot of feelings this Easter weekend. I lost my step dad last year. He was a farmer too. After his cancer diagnosis, all of us kids (there are ALOT of us) came home for Easter. It was the last time I saw him look like himself and the last time we were all together before he died. In my processing, I started working on this piece again. It's one of those things I need to put out into the world for me. I hope for anyone else going through something similar, it brings you comfort or makes you feel not quite so alone.

Peep the cow picture. I took that one myself at Christmas :)

Words: 966

Author Master List

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. Typically along a ridge or tree line, piled-up equipment that was never sold or broken beyond repair sits in overgrown piles and sunken earth. The old family car. The beat-up sports car or pickup truck each son or sometimes daughter inevitably thought they could fix only to spend hundreds of fruitless hours with one glory ride before it went haywire. Scrap metal torn from barn roofs pile up. Every tire imaginable is half buried in the earth. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. The moment you do, you’ll find use or need for the items thrown out.

The Peńa’s graveyard sits between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill. Javier rarely makes his way to that side of the farm. They don’t use that space for cattle since his dad downsized the herd. He pretends there’s no reason for it, but it’s more than just broken down cars and scrap piles to Javier. It’s a ghost town of memories.

There’s his mom’s ‘62 Ford. The one she drove his whole childhood. The vehicle that took them across town, to Sunday services, and hosted their many road trips. It’s where his Mom feels most tangible, her soft voice playing in his head singing to the radio.

His first truck. The one he’d spent months fixing up, he kissed Sally Jones on a Saturday night and done much more with Vanessa Reyes. He’s proposed to Lorraine in that truck, driven past the church in it too.

Chucho’s first American Harvester sits further back. His dad is so proud of that machine… or he was.

The ache grows in Javier’s chest as he stands at the edge of the graveyard. He begged Chucho for years to clean this up. His dad always waved him off, stating that he would get to it someday. Except, Chucho didn’t make it to someday, and now it is Javier’s responsibility.

His fingers twitch, desperate for the feel of a cigarette between them. Nicorette gum sits in his breast pocket instead. He’s working to quit again, picking the worst damn time to do it, but that’s life.

He should probably bring the tractor down to pull everything out. It’s overwhelming with no good place to start. Digging around down there will only dig up the memories. Javier can’t deal with the memories right now, so he leaves the project for another day. He only needs to clean it up if he decides to sell the ranch.

The house is quiet when he walks through the door. Javier is used to the subtle sounds of life- the coffee pot going, the tv running on low, Chucho’s boots on the linoleum, but it never comes. It won’t ever come again.

Javier kicks off his boots, lining them right next to his dad’s. He hasn’t moved them. He’s not sure he will.

He heads for the back of the house toward his room but stops at his Dad’s door. It’s shut tight as he places a hand on the wood. Javier hasn’t gone in there since picking out clothes. It’s a strange thing to pick out clothes for a dead man. How does one pick out what someone will wear for the rest of eternity?

His hand lands on the knob, and it gives way with a squeak. The same squeak that used to echo down the hall, waking Javier up before the sun to let him know it was time for chores. Javier is flooded with the comforting scent of his father. It envelopes him, pulling tears into his eyes immediately. The bed is fixed just as Chucho had left it before he went out and started the chores just as he always did. Except that day, almost a month ago now, Chucho Peña didn’t return to the house.

He collapsed in the field. He was already gone when Javier found him. He died alone and that hurt almost as much as the fact that he was gone.

A thin layer of dust covers the surfaces in the room. He should clean it, but would it lose its smell then? In here, Javier feels surrounded by his father. The closest he can get to him. His room, the one he shared with Javier’s mother, is perfectly preserved.

Javier dares to ease onto the bed and look at the world from Chucho’s perspective every day as he woke up. On the dresser, there’s a photo of his parents when they first started dating, and one from Javier’s high school graduation. On the bedside table, there’s a book with a bookmark halfway through, a picture from his parent’s wedding day, and another of Chucho on the tractor with Javier in his lap. He couldn’t have been older than two at the time. Javier traces it with his finger, wishes he could remember that moment, wishes he could go back in time and relive it all, even the bad days, and treasure it all, ask his dad more questions, called him more often.

Javier lays down on his parents' bed. Chucho’s scent is thicker here with Javier’s head on his pillow. Big, hot tears fall from the corners of his eyes dampening the pillow. He rests his hands over his chest, letting his eyes close. Javier can hear his voice now, his laughter, catches a hint of his mother’s as well. It’s Javier’s job to carry on their legacy.

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. When a tractor kicks the dust or that farm use pickup can only be stripped for parts, Javier follows in his father’s footsteps. He lays them to rest between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill.

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #javier peña narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

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writeforfandoms · 3 months

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The Name of the Wind 2

Find the series masterlist

A new day brings more talks and planning for the future. Oh, and dragons.

Part two of my submission for the Alejandro challenge hosted by @glitterypirateduck This chapter I used "Nothing is ever that simple."

Warnings: Swearing, black humor, lil bit of politics/social norms, fantasy au, fantasy au rules.

Word count: 1.8k

Eventual Alejandro Vargas x f!reader

Fortunately, you were already awake and ready when someone came to get you in the morning. The young woman wore the same kind of dark, simple clothes that the riders here seemed to favor, black hair braided back away from her face. Her smile was kind as she led you to the dining hall.

In the daylight, the dining hall was bigger than you remembered, with several rectangular tables and benches providing plenty of places to sit. Alejandro waved to you, seated at a table in the middle of the room. The others around him moved over to make a space for you. Someone set a clean plate in front of you, while others passed dishes of food around again.

“Good morning,” you greeted a little cautiously, overwhelmed at the casual kindness.

“Did you sleep well?” Alejandro's eyes twinkled in the morning light, like he found you amusing. Better than annoying.

“Very well. Thank you.” You managed a little smile, trying not to gape at the food. This table alone held much more variety than you were used to seeing.

“Some of my riders,” Alejandro told you, motioning to the men and women around him. “Rodolfo will be with us today.”

You nodded to Rodolfo, who looked more stoic than Alejandro. At least for now. He returned the nod, giving you a quick, assessing once-over. You were getting used to that.

“After breakfast, we will continue discussing your circumstances.” Alejandro held your gaze for a moment, waiting for your nod, before he picked up a mug and took a sip. The conversation around you resumed, discussions of training and rotations. You let the words wash over you - you didn’t know any of the names, so a lot of it meant nothing to you.

No sooner had you pushed your plate away than the riders around you stood. You scrambled to your feet as well, looking to Alejandro for guidance. He let the others go first, and then guided you out of the hall. Rodolfo fell into step behind you, his steps nearly silent.

“Still wish for a job here?” Alejandro asked as he walked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You smiled rather wryly. “Walked all the way here.”

“You did.” He turned down a different corridor, this one leading further away from the natural light. “Were you followed?”

“In that downpour? No.” You shook your head. “Everyone sane stayed where it was dry.”

He flashed a grin at you, sharply amused. “And this should make me want to let you work here?”

You huffed a little laugh. “Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I’ve seen harnesses before. Even with regular care, they take a beating.”

Alejandro nodded. “You are correct,” he agreed, even as the roof started to rise and the passageway opened up into a cavern. “They do. You would not have a shortage of work here.”

Your eyes went wide as you craned your head back, trying to see the top of the cavern. You couldn’t. You could see how smaller spaces honeycombed the inside of the mountain, sunlight bleeding through some of them. But Alejandro didn’t pause, and behind you Rodolfo had to clear his throat to get you to hustle after Alejandro again.

Alejandro moved to the far side of the cavern, the light growing brighter as he walked. The cavern lowered again, still much taller than you but not so enormous anymore, until morning sunlight nearly blinded you. An easy exit.

But Alejandro didn’t quite go outside. He turned and went into a room just off to the side, nearly hidden by the brilliance of the morning.

“A few of the harnesses,” he told you, motioning to a series of pegs on the wall holding up connected straps of leather. “These need repairs. We have extras.”

You nodded, tipping your head as you examined the one nearest you. Honestly, you weren’t sure how it worked, but you could learn. That much you were confident about. “Once I know how these work, I can repair them.”

Alejandro chuckled. “Your confidence does you credit,” he agreed. “But that’s not all.”

“What else?” You turned to look at him, curious.

“The dragons, of course.” He grinned again, striding out of the room. Rodolfo sighed with amusement but motioned you out first.

A little wary and a little curious, you followed.

Alejandro walked fearlessly up to an enormous brown dragon, the color of rich wet earth. The dragon lowered its wedge-shaped head, one big eye blinking down at the rider, and made… a noise. It was deep and rumbly, but beyond that? You didn’t have the words to describe it.

The dragon made Alejandro look small, standing more than twice his height at the shoulder, wings folded neatly against its back.

“This is Caba.” Alejandro patted the dragon’s massive jaw.

You stopped well back from the dragon, leaning much more towards wary now. That was… a lot bigger than you thought. Oh, sure, everyone knew dragons were big, but… It was very different standing this close to one.

“Go say hi,” Rodolfo murmured from behind you, amusement clear in his voice. You cleared your throat, nervous, but stepped forward slowly. Alejandro watched you, mostly suppressing his grin.

“Hi, Caba.” You really weren’t sure what you were doing, so you stood awkwardly, eyes wide. The dragon was somehow impossibly bigger from this close.

The dragon peered down at you, blinking slowly. Then it huffed out a breath.

“He is nearly the biggest in the garrison,” Alejandro told you casually, as if you weren’t still reeling from being this close to an actual dragon. “But you would still need to make repairs for all the dragons here.”

Ah. Yes. That was an excellent point. “I can do it,” you reiterated stubbornly, even though the thought of being so close to dragons often made you nervous. You’d just… muscle through. Figure it out. You could do that.

Still better than marrying a man you suspected would be your death.

��Good.” Alejandro grinned. “We’ll find you a permanent room and give you the rest of the tour, then.”

You blinked. “Just like that?”

Alejandro shrugged, hand still on the dragon’s jaw. “Nothing is ever that simple,” he said, looking past you to Rodolfo. “If your would-be husband discovers you are here, he could cause trouble.”

“If,” you grumbled, looking down. “Nobody knows where I went. I left no note.”

Alejandro hummed but seemed content to drop the subject. “Come,” he said, giving Caba one last pat to the jaw. “I will show you the rest of the garrison.”

He was as good as his word, personally taking you around to show you everything. Well. Most everything. He didn’t take you up to the dragons’ sleeping area, nor did he show you the riders’ quarters. But he did show you everything else, from the kitchen to the bathing facilities to the overlook.

The overlook in particular was your new favorite spot. Sure, it was a bit of a hike up to it, but well worth it.

A space had been cleared using the mountain as a natural shelter to provide half-walls and a ceiling, while a thick wooden door blocked the stairway from the cold air. Two chairs seemed to have permanent residence in the overlook. The rest was open to the elements, which made for a cold but beautiful viewing area. From there, you could easily see out over the river valley, the river swollen from the recent rain. The valley stretched for a long ways, the far mountains distant and bluish.

“How far away is that?” You asked, hushed despite the fact that it was just the three of you up there.

“Not so far as you think,” Alejandro answered, leaning one hip against the half-wall next to you. “Less than an hour on dragonback.” His gaze clouded, anger burrowing his brow and twisting the corners of his lips. “Less, for a wyvern.”

You nodded slowly. You'd never seen a wyvern either, and you knew exactly why that was. Because of this garrison. The first line of defense against the wyverns. “What lives in that valley?”

“Deer, rabbits, other game. Various birds. Sometimes we see larger animals, but not often.” Alejandro didn't look at the valley, though, gaze still focused on the distant mountains.

“Is someone up here all the time?” You shifted your weight, the weight of Alejandro's anger making you… almost nervous. On edge.

“No,” Rodolfo answered this time, from behind you. “We have rotating watches elsewhere. This was carved out long ago, but seldom used now.”

You nodded, chewing lightly on your bottom lip as you looked between the two men. They both seemed focused on the distant mountains, and you wondered briefly if they could see anything more than you could.

“Do you see wyverns a lot?” The question passed your lips without permission, leaving your face warm under the weight of two stares.

“Depends on how you define ‘a lot’,” Alejandro said with a little huff, dryly amused. “More than most. Not daily. Not even weekly. Sometimes it's months in between attacks.” He shrugged once before crossing his arms over his chest. “But if you stay, you will see them.” He turned his gaze on you again finally, unwavering and hard. Warning you, you realized.

He wasn't just showing you the view. He was reminding you the purpose of this garrison, what you'd be risking if you stayed.

Your lips quirked in something like humor. “Still better than dying on my way to the coast,” you quipped. You could handle this. Sure, it was a bit scary. But you could do this.

To keep your freedom, your passion, you would.

Alejandro nodded once, approval in his eyes even as he stepped back from the wall. “Good.” He smirked faintly, motioning you to follow again. “What other supplies do you need?”

The question made you pause at the top of the stairs, a considering hum leaving you. “I brought some tools with me. I'd need to see what else you have here.”

“Easily done.” Alejandro didn't pause until the three of you were back in the main hall again. “Take the rest of the day. Get used to being here. Tomorrow, I expect you ready to start.”

You smiled, feeling more secure than you had since your father died. “I'll be ready.”

It wasn't until you watched the two leave, footsteps nearly perfectly in sync, that you breathed out slowly.

Okay. You'd make things work. This was your best choice, your best option.

Alejandro paused at the end of the hall, those dark eyes holding your gaze for a long moment before he was gone.

New plan.

You'd make things work, and not find Alejandro attractive.

#amor a alejandro #dragon riders au #the name of the wind #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #f!reader

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redladydeath · 2 months

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One last thought about the mindbreak AU before bed:

It's a normal day in Vee Tower. Velvette's in her quarters, trying to livestream, when Valentino bursts in, bitching that he can't find Vox and that he's not answering his calls. Velvette pauses the stream to yell at Val for interrupting her work with something so petty— Vox is probably ignoring him on purpose because of shit like this. They go on like that for a bit until suddenly, the tower experiences a brownout. Velvette's laptop starts glitching out— not only is the internet down, but the computer itself seems to be corrupting. This is all highly unusual; the tower never loses power since they're the ones producing most of the damn stuff. And then Alastor's voice starts emanating from every speaker in the building.

He welcomes everyone back to his show, saying that tonight's broadcast will be a very special one– a throwback to his older work. This week's guest is an overlord from the entertainment district and one-time close personal friend of his: Vox, the Media Demon! Vox's voice is heard, cursing at Alastor in response, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Don't touch that dial, Al says, for tonight's show will be very entertaining, indeed.

Valentino and Velvette are frozen for a moment, rooted to the spot in terror. Then, before Velvette can even process what's happening, Val tears off down the hallway to his quarters, scrambling for every gun and angelic weapon he owns. Velvette goes after him, yelling to slow down, that this might be a trap and that there are ways to fake someone's voice. And then the screaming starts. Velvette may not have ever experienced one of Alastor's broadcasts before, but she can tell on an instinctual, animal level that the sounds coming out of the tower's speakers are not AI.

Val tears off to the roof, barely able to contain his demonic form as Velvette runs after him. He almost takes off without her, but grabs her at the last moment when she screams to take her with him. In his full demon form, Val makes a beeline for Alastor's radio tower, with Velvette dangling off of him. She tries to make calls and check social media for more information, but her phone is completely non-functional, along with every other piece of modern technology in Pentagram City. The only things that seem to be working are the speakers, all of which are playing Alastor's broadcast, city-wide.

When they reach Alastor's tower, Val immediately starts tearing through everything he can. But to Velvette's horror, no matter how much of the tower they search, they don't find anyone: Alastor and Vox aren't there. Vox's screams are echoing throughout the city and Val is yelling and crying and smashing things in vain and she's just stuck there, useless, unable to do anything about it.

Eventually, the broadcast comes to an end. Alastor thanks Vox and the audience for a delightful show and signs off. The power and cell service suddenly come back on. Val and Velvette only have a few moments to try and wrap their minds around at the fact that they didn't make it in time before Velvette's phone starts blowing up. She gets a call from her secretary: Alastor just dumped Vox's mangled body in the middle of the lobby before vanishing into thin air. The two of them race back to the tower.

Everyone is astounded to learn that, when they scan his systems, Vox is still alive, although completely non-functional at the moment. VoxTek employees scramble to repair his mutilated body, all while Val screams at them to work faster, to fix him! Velvette is approached by one of her employees; they've looked over the security footage and it turns out that Vox and Alastor were actually in the basement of the tower, in one of Val's studios no less. They don't have footage of the actual event, but they do have the aftermath, with Alastor (in pretty rough shape himself) dragging Vox's body back upstairs. Velvette goes numb at the news. They were in the same building the whole time. All she can manage to get out to the employee is to not, under any circumstances, tell Valentino.

#dfghjhgfdfgh words #randomly accessed memories (RAM)#redlady speaks #hazbin hotel #hazbin posting #vox #valentino #velvette #alastor #the vees #staticmoth #voxvel #kind of

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hastyprovocateur · 3 months

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What could be- Mizemi farm!au (mild nsfw)

It might be too good to be true.

But I wanted to picture Mizu and Akemi living together in the countryside and their relationship slowly developing as neither is rushed on any timeworn marriage- sex- children- grand children timeline. They'd spend their quiet days working the farm, cleaning their hut, raising pigs and horses. Mizu endured the tough lifting and tending, or repairing the roof and sheds as they'd require frequently. That or she'd monopolise the workshop. Akemi always accompanied her with cut fruit or sliced and salted vegetables with her ever piquant banter resonant through the sound of clanging tools. They'd chide each other with love.

"Pray, I've never seen wolves on our property" said Akemi and Mizu remarked impassively "They see you and warn each other to keep away"

Akemi, despite her dignified upbinging, had grown accustomed to the long walks to get anywhere, comfortable with the dirt flecking her pale feet. It is freedom she breathed through what the finer folks would call the strench of the rural outskirts. She engaged her hours in embroidering linens, patching up their clothes, especially all the elbows Mizu left threadbare from her training. She'd taken to the kitchen. Oddly elated at the fact that she could put exactly what she wanted in her body. Mizu gifted her a paring knife with a hidden love quote on the blunt edge and ever since, Akemi's indulged in finely chopping all the vegetables for their stew. She wasn't great at it but Mizu never griped. Even the most bitter concoction she wouldn't stop at less than 3 servings of. Akemi was determined to get better. Her heart nearly fluttered through her ribs when she managed to wring a sigh of pleasure from Mizu's lips when she'd tasted her miso soup one unremarkable evening. Mizu blushed at her sudden loss in composure, disguising it with the clatter of chopsticks and insistence that Akemi eat more.

"You eat. It's not everyday I cook this well" Akemi concealed a chuckle. "You always cook well" Mizu lied through her teeth.

Mizu set up a wall of shelves for Akemi to curate her books while Akemi recited many of her favorite poems to Mizu and taught her the basic meter. They'd sit together at night to trace their calligraphy in the same ornate style. Mizu fell in love with Akemi's hand. Akemi flicked her brush with artistic finess level with her sword wielding. Mizu never saw one any superior to the other. Akemi lay awake to paint sometimes. Rendering sprawling visions of the pastures and galloping horses. Their hut shared by two spirits. She said watching Mizu sleep invigorates her mind. Mizu claimed it's because she's not awake to spout nonsense in her ear. Akemi wrote Mizu seven poems inspired by all their nonsense. All of which Mizu pretended to never understand so she could ask Akemi to explain each verse again.

On the other hand, Mizu had been persistent in teaching Akemi how to throw a knife. It had been a task to get Akemi to single mindedly commit. Her mind turned forever lush in following the soaring sparrows, flitting butterflies, mating calls of toads and the frequent wondering if she'd left the pot on the hearth. Akemi grasped eventually, now flaunting all the peaches she could collect in just 3 strikes. The downside is that Mizu had to eat wagashi sweetened with peach preserve well into the winter. She never complained about the saccharine spinning in her head. But she'd pass out quickly after dinner. Which Akemi enjoyed watching, counting down till it worked.

"Anytime now" Akemi stroked Mizu's head on her lap as they watch the sun sink into the horizon from their porch. Mizu saw doubles, corners of her vision darkening "I'm not going down without a fight" she grits.

They shared a bed. Mizu offered to set up one close by but Akemi insisted on clutching the edge of her nagajuban as she slept. Mizu didn't object. She understood that Akemi slept light, still worried about being dragged off by strange men in the middle of the night. Unbeknownst to Akemi, Mizu harboured her katana under the mattress on her side if evil men do sully the sanctity of their homestead. Unbeknownst to Mizu, Akemi knew about the katana. They hadn't become intimate beyond the rare incidents of catching each other mid-dressing. They'd touch. Akemi would cleanse and dress Mizu's cuts and scrapes from work and Mizu would rinse Akemi's feet while she tried splashing water in her face. They'd often wake up wrapped up in each others arms.

"You said my name in your sleep" Akemi notes, her voice mellow and meek as Mizu grunted "You were threatening me with a knife." But she couldn't bring herself to confess that they'd been making incessant love in her dreams.

If Mizu woke up first, she'd clutch Akemi tight and in the time it took for her to rouse, Mizu would memorise every curve beneath Akemi's garments. She'd imagine them as she worked the fields as motivation to be done quick and return home and into her embrace. She'd sneak out to the river when it became unbearable, stripping down and letting the cold water numb her thoughts. Truth was... she wanted her more with every new, rising day. Akemi's beguiling smile shone bright as light itself, her quips quicker than a scholar's, her wisdom par to any monk. Her loose hair pooled over their pillow like wrought blessings, her pretty fingers clutched around her nagajuban like she'd lose herself if she let go, curled toes peeking from beneath the sheets. How was a person to deny such loveliness resting on their breast. When she'd call your name midsleep?

Likewise, Akemi would turn a flush red if she admitted it but she'd lay out Mizu's samue over their mattress in her absence and bury her face in it, touching herself as she imagined the slender in Mizu's calves, her sinewy arms and dexter fingers, the shape of her smooth back with dark hair flooding down her spine, the dark corners of her eyes, the unfettered sea in her gaze, her rich mouth. She'd crash from the waves of pleasure. Tossing and turning until she'd tire herself and then go prepare supper before Mizu returned home.

"Akemi!" Mizu called her one such evening as she'd just gotten done preparing hot stew, laying their scant and simple dinnerware out. Akemi came to, hearing the rumbling in the sky as it threatened to pour. "Coming!" Akemi ambled out the house, hair undone and feet bare. She came upon Mizu frenzied, grabbing at the clothes on the clothesline. They cracked in the storm, one blew away with a strong gust. "Mizu!" Akemi yelped, grabbing onto as many clothes as she could, bursting out in laughter halfway as she saw Mizu's eyes squinted, vexed by the dust kicked up by the wind. It began to drizzle... then pour. Akemi giggled harder as their clothes became soaked and Mizu continued to frantically collect them all. "Help me!" Mizu was exasperated, trying to yank down their bedsheet, stuck in place somehow by its pin. Akemi caught Mizu's obi before it flew off and began laughing uncontrollably as she tried to bring down the bedsheet along with Mizu.

The rain came down harder by the second and they are effectively soaked. Mizu stared at Akemi, the top of her head growing slick, loose locks stuck to her forehead. The corners of Mizu's lips twitched as she lost her composure as well. "Come off..." she continued to pull at it. "It'll tear!" Akemi tugged weakly, giving up eventually. "Don't stop!" Mizu insisted but Akemi simply smiled at her, reaching her arms out and looking skyward "It's already wet" she shrugged. Mizu looked at her quizzically "But you washed it..." she reasoned, still squinting from her irritated eyes. Akemi closed the distance between them, reaching for Mizu's face.

"Hold still" she laughed, stroking Mizu's waterline, gently easing a bit of debris out from the corner. Mizu peered down at her, chest heaving ever so slightly. Akemi's robe seeped through to her skin, clinging to it in places she's never seen bare with her eyes. She grew flustered, lowering her eyes from Mizu's piercing blue, resting them on Mizu's cupid's bow. "I'll wash it again... I'll wash them all" Akemi assured and Mizu quietly reached around Akemi, nestling her arms in the dip of her waist and pulling her even closer "Do you desire abhorrent work?" Mizu asked, water embedding into the fabric covering her broad shoulders, top knot coming undone. Akemi gulped, forehead level to Mizu's chest"It's not work to me. I'd do it everyday... blindly" her voice thinned.

To a near squeak.

"Meet my eyes" Mizu instructed her but Akemi hesitated, eyes affixed on Mizu's mouth, counting each part of her lips, the flick of her tongue. "Meet my eyes, Akemi" she repeated. Her tenor softer. Deeper. Sweeter. Akemi emboldened herself to peer up, finding Mizu's glacial blue eyes smiling down at her, the edges crinkled with love. Mizu brought herself closer, cradling Akemi's cheek and wandering her thumb over the soft expanse to push a wet strand back, resting it below her lips covered with raindrops "All this rain and I shall only be quenched by your lips-" Akemi lifted her bare heels above the ground, planting her lips on Mizu's with the tenderness of feathers brushing. Mizu held her tighter, face tilting to fit herself to her lover's lips. Like rivers meeting. They pulled back shyly only to meet again inevitably. Mizu drew away, crouching to hook Akemi under the knees and lifting her clean off the ground "You're getting your feet dirty" she marched her to back inside as Akemi rested her arms around Mizu's shoulders, eyes smitten with adoration "Bathe me" she rested her head in the crook of Mizu's neck

"Then wring me dry on our bed."

"Everyday... blindly" Mizu promised, sincere despite her wicked smile.

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am-i-interrupting · 3 months

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Stalking Shadows | Vox x Alastor’s Child— OATSH

Summary: Alastor has a problem with your choice in company. You have a problem with his problem.

For @aliceneedsphalis or somewhat inspired by one of their prompts.

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” you said.

You’d been listening to your father for the last couple minutes, maybe even an hour, rant about how Vox’s new company was beginning to take away listeners or rather, they were selling more televisions than radios now.

“Oh, yes, people muddling their brains into mush is something to be unconcerned about,” Alastor said, sarcasm coating his every word.

You have him a deadpanned look before rolling your eyes. “It’s not that and you know it. People just like seeing things that they ain’t ever—“

“Have never,” he corrected.

“—seen before. What’s the big difference between watching something on a television and going to a theater?” you asked. “People are just watching other people act out a story.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” he said, spitting your words back at you. “Going to the theater means leaving the comforts of home, watching a creation of a story that may be said word for word the same but will always be played out differently. The television encourages sinking further into your home, grounding you to a spot that you can’t leave lest you miss something and will always be the same. At least with the radio, you can enjoy it from any place.”

“Uh-huh? And you’re sure there’s not something else going on?” you asked.

Alastor was prone to monologuing when in the comforts of either of your homes but even this had been excessive. His monologues were normally more spaced out than this.

It’d been nearly a year since Vox came into your afterlife and your father had been none too pleased. In a way, you understood but in others you didn’t.

Yes, Vox was taking up some of your time. You went out together to walk the town, get dinner, go to random places or you’d set him up on meetings. However, your time had not been solely taken up by Vox. You saw him planned in person perhaps once a week. Outside of that, you didn’t see him much at all. You still saw your father nearly the same amount. It honestly felt hypocritical of him to complain without actually complaining when at least you told him where you were going. He did not always give you the same courtesy and disappeared for days if not weeks at a time far more often than you’d like.

“What else would there be?” he asked.

You grabbed his hand and used it to wrap his arm around your shoulders as you gave him a hug from his side, both arms around his waist.

“I know you don’t like when things change without your permission—“

“Which is precisely what this is.”

“—but I had a life without you in it. It’s not your fault that you weren’t there for it and I don’t blame you for not being there. But, I did have to learn how to be happy without you. That doesn’t mean I’m not happy with you and it doesn’t mean that I want you to go away. However, Vox was one of those people I found happiness with. A lot of happiness, so just don’t be so hard on him, please. You don’t have to like him, just stop talking like you want to kill him. Okay?”

Silence.

You squeezed Alastor’s torso harder and leaned back, pulling him with you. “Okay?” you asked again.

“I will make an attempt,” he said, sounding like it hurt him to get the words out.

You released him. “That’s all I want.” You placed your hat on your head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going.”

“And where to exactly?”

Just this once you decided to give your father a taste of his own medicine. “Out.”

You left the house briskly. You had few big plans for the day. You mostly just had small errands. A couple things some of your contracted souls had asked for and not much more.

You went to Trinket’s home to repair her roof, damaged from a recent chase that spanned several districts. You visited Fable and brought them lunch as they were still grieving from the extermination passed a few months ago now but they still didn’t smile like they used to.

You had noticed several times a movement of shadow as you walked and specifically chose a very well lit pathway as a result to at least make it harder for him to spy out of spite.

That is, of course, when you caught site of Vox. He was dressed in a blue, short sleeved button up with a belt that matched and black pants. He looked very. . . relaxed as he strode through the streets of your district.

Of course, not everyone who lived in your territory was contracted to you and while he was one of them, it was nice to see him like this.

Then he saw you and a smile stretched across his face. You waved at him. He came over.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he said.

“I’ll say it’s a bit ironic that I see you so soon as hearing so much about you,” you replied.

“Well, I hope they were good things.”

“Coming from my father? Never, but he rarely has good things to say about anyone so don’t take it personally,” you told him.

“Ah, still hesitant?”

“Resistant is the word I’d use. He’s not much of a sharer.”

“Unfortunate for him, neither am I but for you, I’ll make an exception.” He smiled more when you rolled your eyes. “May I accompany you wherever it is you’re going?”

You caught a glimpse of a moving shadow. Light spots that looked to close to eyes over his shoulder. Fine, you could be petty as well but you were going to say yes either way.

“Please. I don’t believe you’ve met Ziggy yet unless you’ve been seeing others behind my back,” you said.

“I would never dream of it.”

The two of you began to walk side by side together. You used the swinging of your hands to hide the gesture that caused the shadow to be swept away with the wind.

#one author two show hosts #vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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