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#isaac foster imagines
ravi-deactivated · 1 year
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𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚
„I can't hold back when you look like this.“
featuring: zack foster
cw: vaginal sex, blood play, praise, creampie, reader has a nose bleed mid sex and zack goes feral over it, zack can't build a single sentence without a curse word
18+ content - MDNI
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The air around you is heavy, thickened by your harsh exhales. A thin film of sweat covers your skin while you move your hips in rolling, fluent movements and a moan leaks your throat as you feel that familiar bump against your g-spot again.
Hazy eyes slide down to your palms placed on scarred skin beneath you, trail further over collarbones and tensed muscles, eventually rest on Zack's face.
His breathing is as heavy as yours, lips parting with deep moans and hissed breaths while his hands rest on your hips, guide them while he moves his lower body along with yours, meets your thrusts halfway through, shoves himself even further up into you.
With a shivering sigh, you press your palms harder against his chest, feel his burn scars beneath your fingers. You cherish the feeling.
It took a while for you to be allowed to see him without his bandages, took a lot of trust for him to show himself to you without any cover.
By now he thinks that with every time you run your fingers over his damaged skin without hesitation, he falls even more for you.
Oxytocin pumps through his veins and straight into his brain, makes him high, makes him see nothing but you above him.
You are so perfect in comparison with him, flawless in his eyes, way too perfect for someone like him.
He hears a whine break from your throat and his gaze softens slightly as it lingers on your face, the aroused expression on it, the way your lips part and the glassy tears in your eyes.
He sees your skin glisten with sweat, sees the glow on your lips, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs.
It's like an aphrodisiac, makes him grab your hips harder, makes him tense his body while he tries to somehow pick up the pace, tries to ignore the burning exhaustion in his thighs.
He sees how you lightly arch your back above his thrusts, feels how your nails dig into the skin of his chest.
„ah- fuck- Zack-“
His name sounds so good when you say it. He wants to hear it over and over again, doesn't care if you moan, cry or scream it.
A groan leaves his throat as the sound echoes in his head, his fingers dig deeper into the skin of the upper part of your thigh.
He lowers his eyes down to the middle of your body, watches himself sliding in and out of you, sees the skin of his lower body glisten with your fluids.
He wants to make you come in this position, wants to see and feel you fall apart in despair above him, wants to catch you when you fall, wants to hold you before he starts chasing his own high.
While he estimates the right moment to put his finger against your clit to make you come undone, he suddenly hears a low „shit-“ coming from you.
He thinks it to be just a regular curse at first, caused by arousal and overstimulation, but when he feels your rhythm falter, slowing down, he furrows his brows, slows his own thrusts before raising his eyes.
He wants to ask what's wrong, slightly annoyed with the sudden disruption as he trails his eyes up your torso above him. But when they rest on your face, he chokes on the question, feels his mind stumble over the simplest thoughts.
There's a switch being turned in his head, further and further as he stares at you, watches how you hold your hand in front of your nose.
Blood slips through between your fingers, he watches how it runs over the back of your hand and down your arm.
His mind clouds, it's like he can smell you more intensely, can smell your blood, craves to taste it on his tongue.
A sharp gasp echoes from his throat when the first drop hits his chest. His bones shiver at the sensation, he feels his heart slowing down, feels like the world slowly stops around him.
Hunger grows inside of him. A rush he can not stop.
„Fuck, sorry.“
Your voice barely breaks through to him, gets partially lost in the clouds filling his brain, in the immense ache taking over his mind.
„I'll clean this up. Let me just-“
You want to get up from his legs, try to pull away, but Zack's fingers tighten like vices around the skin of your hips, keep you in place, push you further down his cock.
The questioning gaze you give him is met by his hypnotized stare, his eyes locked on the blood still running through the gaps between your fingers.
„Zack, what-“
He slowly shakes his head before you can finish, sits up and wraps an arm around your waist before he grabs your hand and pulls it away from your nose.
With an embarrassed expression, you allow him to pull your hand away, feel blood drip from your fingers onto his, see it trailing in a thin line down his arm.
You feel your cheeks heat up as you look at him, feel his eyes lay so heavily on you that you think you can feel it burn through your skin, feel the heat of his body now that he is so much closer to you.
Zack feels like he's going insane, watches how blood runs from your nose to your lips, from your lips to your chin, sees it trail over your neck, to the valley between your breasts.
His fingers tighten around your wrist, pull it towards him, his eyes still digging into yours as he lightly turns his head to push his lips against the lower part of your palm, into the warm red smeared on it.
He hears your shaky inhale, feels you shiver when he licks a long stripe over your skin, laps up your blood like it's the sweetest thing he has ever tasted.
Crimson coats his tongue, blurs in his mouth and he groans at the taste of copper and salt, feels like he's about to explode.
He wants more, wants to drain you, wants to devour all of you. His heart thumps so hard in his chest that it's numbing, trying to keep up with his rushing, racing mind.
With his other hand still on your hip, he makes you sink down onto him again, meets your movements halfway down, makes you whine out at the fulfilling feeling. His eyes follow the lines of red on your body, he feels heat spread through his veins as he licks up the trail of blood on your lower arm.
Through his clouded mind, he hears a low whine coming from you, something that sounds like „This is embarrassing.“
He shakes his head, barely knows how to speak, his breath completely snatched away by your appearance, by your taste, by the hunger roaring through him.
„No“ he breathes out, while his long fingers trail down your spine in a caressing gesture, make you lean your head back, make you arch more into him. „This is perfect, you're fucking perfect.“
He hears the moan you send to the ceiling, feels how you place a hand on his shoulder to hold onto him, feels how close your body is to his.
It's like he can feel your pulse, your heart beating along with his. When he trails his eyes to your neck, the blood on it, he feels like he can hear, feel, see your carotid beat through the skin, like it's calling him, begging for him.
Air gets knocked from his lungs every time you sink down his cock, every time he feels his tip hit your cervix and hears you whine upon it.
The rushing and buzzing in his head gets louder, takes him in and with a groan, he leans forward, presses his lips against your throat, licks up another stripe of blood.
He hears you whine, feels you squirm in his harsh grip as he bares his teeth above your skin, sucks and bites and bruises your flesh, groans at the way you taste.
Your other hand is released from his grip and you quickly slide it over the nape of his neck and into his hair, where you dig your fingers into the soft, black strands.
He groans at the light pressure, you feel it more than you hear it, feel the way he still sucks and bites your skin, can't help but shiver at the sensation.
Desperate and needy, you plan to pull his head back to kiss him, but before you are able to, both of his hands are on your waist again, in a tighter grip than before.
With a swift movement that doesn't leave you any breath or second to speak, you are thrown off of his body, your back hits the mattress and your mind gets lost in a small spiral for a few seconds.
A few seconds in which your wrists are grabbed and pinned down to the sheets, in which you feel Zack's legs slide between yours, his heated body hovering over yours, burying you in his shadow.
You become aware of the white sheets around you, the white textile that will be covered in blood once the two of you will be done.
But as soon as you look up, the thought quickly becomes secondary, utterly unimportant. Your brain seems to come to a halt beneath the gaze hitting you from above.
With his arms still pinning you down, Zack leans above you, darkened eyes and shivering, parted lips, tensed jaw and flexed muscles, fully taking you in and observing you, focusing on you like a wild animal ready to hare down towards its prey.
His breath is still going hard, you see a droplet of sweat run from his collarbone down his chest, right through the warm blood smeared all over the skin covering his muscles.
„Shit, what are you doing to me?“ you hear him breathe out, feel how his grip tightens a little around your wrists, to an extend that sends a shiver of pain through your nerves.
You feel your skin burn beneath his eyes when he trails them over your blood stained body again, feel adrenaline pump in your lower body when he pushes himself against you, slides his cock through your wetness and makes you gasp when his tip brushes your clit.
„I can't hold back when you look like this.“
You are not sure what to do, are not sure what he expects your response to be.
So you decide to be selfish, decide to put your wish to have him back inside of you above everything else.
Desperately, you choke out the few words your brain grants you to use.
„I don't want you to hold back. Please-“
Your voice falters for a second, shakes beneath pent up arousal and the insane ache for the man above you, who looks like he's about to devour all of you, everything you offer him.
This is insane, so, so, fucked up. And you love every second of it, love the way he holds you down, love the way he gets drunk of the sight of you, ache for his nails in your skin, his teeth in your flesh, him so deep inside of you that it bruises you.
„Use me, Zack.“
The pleading whine forces a deep growl out of his chest, makes him move one of his arms away from your wrist to push himself back into you, sink into your warmth with such a deep thrust that it makes you throw your head back with a loud moan.
The angle gives him a clear view of the smeared blood on your neck, warm red surrounded and underlined with his bites and marks.
It makes him lose more of his composure and his mind as he immediately sets up a ruthless, merciless pace of his thrusts, hitting you in such a harsh, fast tempo that it knocks the air out of you, makes it impossible for you to speak or beg, only allows breathy, high moans to slip out of your clenched throat.
„God, yes, make those noises for me.“
His deep voice shakes with each of his thrusts, you see the way he licks his lips as he looks down at you and you shiver beneath it, feel so much smaller and vulnerable beneath those bi-colored eyes.
„Such a good little slut, all mine to break.“
Through his heaved words, you hear the way his hips snap against yours, hear the wet sounds of your bodies meeting, feel how he slips so much deeper into you, how he rubs your walls in an even better way than before.
You are so close to coming, you want to tell him, but speaking still is impossible with his hard pace and you can only inhale sharper and sharper every time the knot in your lower stomach tightens, with each breath that comes out in the shape of a little whine or sob.
Feeling how his other hand releases your wrist as well, you let out a breath of relief, just to whine once more upon at the way he holds you by your hips, holds you down while he pounds into you.
It's like heaven, you feel yourself start to float, especially when his hand rises to massage your chest, purposely spreading more of your blood on your upper body.
Whining beneath his touch, you slowly lose your sense of reality, barely realize how he leans down until his lips find yours.
His kiss makes you sigh against him, makes you cradle his face in your hands and you hear him growl as he licks over your lower lip, makes you very aware that he is aching for more of your blood, licking up as much as he can.
It's vile and nasty and you love every second of it.
Upon pulling back, you feel your breath hitch in your throat as you see his face, see the blood on and around his lips, see that your bloody fingers stain his cheeks and his neck.
The sight steals your breath away, paired up with the glaring lust in his eyes, it's enough to make you slip so dangerously close to an orgasm that you have to dig your fingers into his shoulders, aching to find a hold as you shoot him a begging look.
„I'm gonna cum, Zack- fuck, I'm gonna cum.“
You notice the quick breath he lets out, feel how he tenses his body, how he keeps his pace as hard as possible while he still looks down on you, takes in every fibre of your appearance.
His hand steadying him on the mattress tenses, clutches to a fist around the sheets while the other one grabs the back of your thigh, makes you cry out as he pushes your knee closer to your shoulder and hits your g-spot.
You can only look up into his eyes, hold onto them as he pushes you closer and closer, eventually grabs you and pulls you down into sweet ecstasy.
A drained, sobbed and trembling moan leaks your throat when you feel your body tense and relax in a fast rhythm, when the peak of your arousal washes over you and melts your brain to a soft mess of nothingness.
You can only watch Zack's lips tremble, teeth clenching as his moaning gets louder and it fucks so much with your overstimulated brain that you feel close to crying, feel an overwhelming urge to be even closer to him, to be one with him.
„Come inside me, please, please“ you beg, voice high and needy, lost in the clouds of your high.
Seeing him gasp at your words almost makes you come again.
„Want me to fill you up, huh?“ he breathes out, right before he pushes a kiss against your cheek and then buries his face in your neck.
„Want me to make a mess out of you? Then beg more for it, beg for me."
His breathy mumbling makes the hair on your neck stand up, makes you whimper and whine for more as you wrap your arms around him, to keep him as close as possible as you feel him tense and shiver above and inside you.
With your eyes still unable to focus, your arms wrapped around him and your thighs still trembling beneath his thrusts and your orgasm, you drown in the sounds of his heavy breathing, the wet sounds of your bodies, all of it keeping you in your euphoric state.
„God, you feel so fucking good.“
A deep groan carries his words, you can hear pure ache and longing in the way his voice shakes, with a higher tone than usual.
You feel how Zack pulls his face away from your neck, feel how he pushes his nose against yours, feel his heaving breath against your lips.
He still looks at you like before, completely focused on you, only the trembling of his lips and light furrow of his brows an indication for the sheer amount of pleasure filling him in this moment.
You hear him whine out your name, over and over again, but before you are able to lean forward to kiss him, his breath suddenly stalls in his throat.
His lips part as he stills inside of you, pushes himself as deep as possible into you and the fulfilling feeling makes you gasp along with him.
The deep groan that rumbles from his chest echoes in your head as he holds your hip with one hand, while the other one balances his weight on the mattress, shakes beneath the orgasm rushing through him, beneath the shivers that make his muscles twitch and make short, involuntary whines slip from his throat.
You watch him in awe while he falls apart above you, watch his eyes flicker and his lips tremble and you whimper a little because you feel so full with him, can't help but shiver along with him.
The blood smeared on his face and his shoulders makes your head spin, makes something tingle deep inside of you, something that makes your lower body boil again.
Something primal, almost animalistic, something you never felt before.
A sigh breaks from your throat while your eyes still rest on Zack's face, the saliva glistening on his lips and the dark shade of red on the healthy parts of his cheeks only makes you more feral.
In a quick impulse, you hook your legs around his waist to keep him locked within you, hear a low, pleased groan from him in response.
“Shit, your pussy's so good-"
His voice still shivers as he leans his nose more against yours.
You draw in a sharp breath when he slowly pushes himself forward again, fills you to the brim, makes your eyes roll back in sweet pleasure while your arms wrap around his neck, fingers burying in his black hair.
Both of your breathing gets heavier again, more in sync, you whine as he starts thrusting into you again and your arousal spikes in your lower body as you hear the slick sounds of him fucking his cum deeper into you.
„Fuck-“
The word is only a gasp, a hiss through clenched teeth and it sets you on fire again, makes you so ready to take whatever he's about to give you.
“Fuck, I can't stop.”
His low words and the deep growl coming from his throat, along with the unwavering expression of arousal in his eyes makes you realize that this is far from over, that he'll enjoy this and the sight of you for as long as possible.
And you think you've never been happier as you rest your palm against his cheek, look up at him through flickering, tear stained eyes.
“Then don't.”
His lips part at your voice and what they carry, you can see how his muscles tense again.
And then you moan in bliss, throw your head back as he moves inside of you again, thrusts into you with a hunger that makes you breathless and leans in to bruise and mark the other side of your neck, neither of you bothering with the veil of sweat, cum and blood coating both your bodies.
You should probably think of a good explanation you could give to Ray in case she asks about the messed up sheets.
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chalkblue · 10 months
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Happy birthday to Zack!
What’s the first thing you need after having your guts stitched back up?
Froot loops and Coca-cola obviously…
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mad-minds-rp · 2 months
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Fandom: I want to *rated R* things to Zack Foster
Me: I want to give Zack Foster hot chocolate and a blanket.
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yanderemommabean · 2 years
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I do not blame you about Zack momma I love him
I do too! He's fiery, sarcastic, unhinged, and funny! Hits all my weak spots for yandere potential (or just dudes in general. It's guys like Isaac and himbos who get me soft UwU )
-Mommabean
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salfishersimp2 · 10 months
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Surprised to see there are actual real people who've heard of Satsuriku no tenshi, i thought no one cared about that incredible shit
Also surprised to see it was meant to have some sort of religious meaning or something, i thought it was just some blonde kid and a pretty murderer guy with bandages and a scythe and a hoodie and pretty eyes surviving horror games
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angstyx · 1 year
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Hi, if possible, i would love a Karl Jacobs or Wilbur Soot imagine (you can decide which one you want to write more) where Karl or Wilbur is reader's brother's best friend.
Oh no, he's cute
CC!Wilbur Soot x Reader
Word Count: 310+ words
Summary: You find out that your brother's best friend is kinda cute... and that you may have a crush on him… oops?
TW: cursing, shouting
Requested?: [Yes] [No]
Masterlist // Rules for Requesting
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"And here's my room! [Name]'s room is across from mine but they usually never come out as far as I know," your brother jokes, right as you open the door to go downstairs.
Your brother and the guy next to him turn to look at you. You're about to turn around and go back inside your room to prevent any social interaction but your brother had other ideas. Damn him.
"Look who finally decided to leave their room. [Name], meet my best friend, Wilbur. Wilbur, meet my sibling, [name]." You internally grown and turn around to face the two. Before you could flip your brother off, his friend flashes you a big, friendly smile and nervously waves at you. "Hey," he says awkwardly. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes widen.
Oh shit, he's cute. Too cute.
Literally, shut up [name]! He's your brother's best friend! Though that doesn't really matt-
You quickly cut off your thoughts and give Wilbur a nervous smile back. "Hey..." Your brother gives you a knowing look but you ignore him. Hopefully, Wilbur doesn't think you look messy in your pjs.
Since when did you care about what your brother's friends think about you [name]? Since the moment you met this one. If someone took a look at your mind at that moment, they would've thought you were weird for arguing with yourself.
Before your brother could say anything more, you quickly turn around and walk back into your room, immediately shutting the door. You flop onto your bed and groan.
Shit, were those butterflies in your stomach? You quickly bring your hands to cup your face. Its warm. No way you like Wilbur when you literally just met him. Like, literally just minutes ago. Though he is kinda cute. Damn it, you were gonna think about this for the rest of the week, weren't you?
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thebestbooksaround · 1 year
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okay, first of all, thank you for your service! your recs are amazing
i just wanted to ask if you could rec as many rewrite fics as possible? episode rewrites, season rewrites that kind of thing? and if people could keep adding on itd be great?
theyre my fav genre tbh but they can be so hard to find :(
thank you so much!!
Oh boy, I sure can Anon!
I'm going to assume you mean 9-1-1, if you meant another fandom, let me know and I'll search for those. Some of these are rewrites by proxy? As in all the events happen but some are text fics so you only hear about them. If anyone has some to add, please do!
Without further ado...
We All Fall Down by kristen999 (@thekristen999)
He’d done this before. Inside the well. Trapped forty feet underground instead of in a tin can, rising water the constant threat.
Eddie stared at the radio, knowing this time there’d be someone on the other end to hear him if he needed to say something. If his time his second chances had finally run out.
He wouldn’t die alone. Not really. His team would be there. Just inches away. He could tell them, tell Buck….
*
glue by ProsperDemeter
“It’s just…” Connor shrugged. “No offense, man, but… you’re twenty-five. Do you really want to be spending so much time falling for a guy with a kid?”
“I’m not falling for him.”
--
A month away from graduating the LAFD Academy, Evan Buckley gets introduced to new recruit Eddie Diaz and things certainly change for both of them after that.
This author is also writing a s2 rewrite!
*
Firefighter Buckley's Unauthorized Ride-Along by slipperywordcrimes
Buck spends most of his probationary year with a bun in the oven, and doesn't realize it.
*
One Wrong Number by calinaannehart (@calinaannehart)
When Evan Buckley meets a man in a bar and gets his number, he couldn't possibly imagine how one wrong digit could lead him to his fate. Because sometimes wrong numbers are the right numbers.
bro·ken by kristen999 (@thekristen999)
Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU.
*
if it weren’t for second chances by alasse (@alasse9)
When Buck doesn’t save Daniel, the Buckleys put him in foster care. Seventeen years later, Bobby meets a tall, lanky kid who can’t stop eating his pancakes at a church breakfast, and he gives him a phone number and an unconditional offer of help.
A story about how Buck finds a chosen family, and with a few twists and turns, eventually gets to the 118, meets Eddie Diaz, and maybe finds himself a second and a third (or, an Evan Nash story).
*
Our story's been heartache and wonder by Tails89 (@tails89)
Fuck.
Buck scrubs a hand down his face. He’s got no idea what he’s supposed to do here.
He knows what his parents are like. He has his own childhood to draw from, and Isaac doesn't deserve that. He deserves to grow up surrounded by love, and if nothing else, Buck can give him that.
But Buck is also a twenty-six year old probationary firefighter, living in his girlfriend’s apartment while she travels the world. He’s not exactly in a position to look after a kid.
“Okay.” It comes out in a rush of air. “I’m gonna come get you."
*
no one quite like you by hammersmiths (@henswilsons)
Hen has added +1 213 555 to Firehouse 118
Hen: This is Eddie!
Eddie: Hey everyone :)
Buck: Why would she add him to our private groupchat
Chimney: I’m literally sitting right next to you
or, Buck and Eddie’s progression through texts.
*
Tighten Up by ok_thanks
It’s probably considered getting off on the wrong foot when you have sex with your coworker before they start their new job, right?
Buck would think it’s probably not a good thing, and definitely something that shouldn’t be repeated. Especially when he becomes best friends with them. That’d be particularly stupid.
*
Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania)
Eddie's PTSD is just that little bit worse and when he moves to Los Angeles, instead of joining the LAFD, he joins dispatch.
Which is all good and fine, except for this one firefighter he keeps ending up talking to.
*
we were born with nothing by chromatophorica (@chromatophorica)
Until the 118, Evan had never had a family.
---
Evan saves Daniel when he's a baby; he still manages to find his way to the 118, forging a family there despite being given up by his biological parents.
*
I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (@hmslusitania)
After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid(like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club.
OR
Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.
*
i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday (@littlespoonevan)
Eddie grins. “Yeah I get that. So can I ask why you applied for the room? No offence but you’re not exactly the kind of candidate I expected.”
Buck laughs, ducking his head. That’s probably true.
“I, uh, I’ve been staying at my girlfriend’s place while she’s travelling but um, my sister moved to LA recently and sort of made the point that I could be overstaying my welcome? Or, well- actually she tried to tell me my girlfriend’s cheating on me and I need to get over it and move out of her place.” Buck shakes his head, eyes widening at what he just implied. “She’s not! Cheating, I mean. She’s just- trying to find herself after losing her mom. She just needs a little space, y’know?”
At least, that’s the excuse Buck’s giving Abby for why she hasn’t called him in over two weeks.
Eddie nods with a vague sort of expression on his face like he hadn’t expected him to overshare that much. Which, oops.
In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.
*and of course we can't forget:
Those Two Firefighters by DarkFairytale
#thosetwofirefighters starts to gather a following on social media, as everyone tries to figure out if those two cute firefighters from the 118 in LA are a thing or not.
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sangriajay-dice · 1 year
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The Hale pack deserved better! Erica and Boyd should have stayed alive! Isaac should have stayed with Derek! Cora should have stayed too! They could have had their rocky beginnings but eventually (with the help of pack mother Stiles) they would have gotten together to train and bond, first out of necessity and then before you knew it, they would become an actual functioning pack (with the added bonus of therapy because Lord knows they need it).
I can just imagine on a random day (or so it seems, it's actually the Hale House fire remembrance day), the pack barges into the loft and manhandle a sourwolf who doesn't want to be bothered (especially not today) into the living room for a surprise (Derek tries to roar them or scare them into submission so they can leave him alone but they have learned to push back at some commands, they know he won't hurt them and he doesn't mean all his threats).
Erica is adamant that he's going to enjoy this surprise as they push him down on the couch (Derek highly doubts it but he is secretly glad about the distraction) and then they roll up their sleeves or take of their shirts— depending on who, and reveal their triskelion tattoos that they got. (A reminder that even though Derek and Cora may have lost their family, Isaac too, Boys and his sister and Erica has never felt like she belonged anywhere, that despite the odds, they found each other and became each other's family and pack.)
Of course Derek is speechless. (And no he did not cry no matter how much Erica, Cora and Stiles insisted that he did). He does realise though that he isn't alone anymore and they spend the day by visiting the Hale memorial and watching movies and gorging on snacks and food and taking puppy pile naps ("Stop calling us pups, Stiles!) which eventually leads to a sleepover (this becomes tradition till the Hale House gets rebuilt and becomes a sort of headquarters that foster supernatural children that lose their families and have no where else to go).
All in all, it wasn't a bad surprise as surprises from his pack go.
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ravi-deactivated · 2 years
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𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣
featuring: zack foster
cw: praise kink, light degradation, choking, slapping, established relationship, love confessions and stuff, afab reader
18+ content - MDNI
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Validation is something Zack never got in his life. And when he tasted it for the first time, he became addicted.
The feeling, the sound of being praised feels like a god damn drug to him, better than hunting, better than his knife between his fingers, better than killing.
Nothing feels better than being told how good he is at what he's doing. That no one can ever be above him.
It overshadows the voice in the back of his head that whispers to him how false that is, that it's simple make believe, the only lie he dares to love.
Because it's your lie, your voice that tells him how good he feels, that you love what he's doing to you, love how he makes you feel. When you say it, it almost makes him believe that he is worth something.
You whine and moan as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, fast and hard enough that he's sure it must hurt at some point.
But you don't tell him to stop, don't look like you need a break.
So he continues, gets more rough when he wraps his hand around your neck and thrusts himself as deep as possible into you, watches your eyes roll back.
He gets drunk off the sight, but seeing how good you feel because of him isn't enough. He craves your voice, wants to hear your beautiful lies, needs words of confirmation.
“You like being fucked like this, huh? Love it how deep I can fuck myself into your little cunt?”
His voice is hoarse and gasping, his eyes clouded with lust as he looks down at you, feels you swallow beneath the grip of his fingers, his lower body fluttering at the way your body sucks him in.
“Yes, fuck- it feels so good- you feel so good inside of me.”
Your words make him hiss, turn him on even more and without really realizing it, he squeezes your neck harder, almost takes your air to breathe.
The urge to destroy you waves through him, to end you first before he himself crumbles to helpless pieces beneath your gaze.
Because you have so much power over him that the simplest look, the faintest scent and sound is enough to make his knees go weak.
With a desperate groan, he changes a bit of his angle, puts your legs against his shoulders and leans forward to get closer to your face, never slowing his pace as he folds you in half.
The new angle makes him slide even deeper into you and you yell out his name, helpless, breathless moans leaving your lips.
He loves how you say his name. You saying it almost makes him like it, almost makes him like a part about himself.
While he leans his nose against yours, his fingers still around your neck, heat collecting between your bodies, he almost loses himself in your eyes, loses himself in their tears and the wide, obedient look they give him.
God, he is so in love. With you, with your eyes, your body, the feeling you give him.
And he wants to hear you say how much you love him back.
“You love my cock, right? Tell me how much you love it to be fucked by my cock, little bitch.”
You part your lips to answer, to give him exactly what he wants, but when he gives your neck another desperate squeeze, you just manage to gasp.
Before you're able to answer, his hand is gone from your neck and lightly hits your cheek, not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to leave a stinging feeling that goes straight to your lower body, makes it boil even more than before.
A satisfied moan leaves your mouth and you have to bite your lower lip to suppress the happy grin that dares to form on your lips.
His hand is back around your throat, squeezing harder than before.
“Say it, fucking say it” he hisses against your lips again, a shadow hanging over his already dark gaze.
Oh, how happy you are to give him what he wants.
“I love your cock so much, Zack. It's so good.”
You think to sense the shiver of pleasure that's running down his spine, the way he bites his lip and looks down at you with nothing but pure, helpless lust written in his eyes is enough proof of it.
While he licks through the corner of his mouth, he pulls back a bit slower than before, slowing his pace a little, while his movements keep their harsh and deep kind.
He immediately sees the effect of his thrusts when you let out a loud whine and rise your hands to find a hold at his shoulders, nails digging through the bandages right into his skin.
“Shit, you're so deep inside of me-”
You want to lean forward to push a kiss against his lips, but before you are able to, he pulls back, hand still wrapped around your throat, his weight resting on his knees and his thrusts unwavering as he suddenly allows his other hand to hover over your clit.
When he starts massaging your centre, your back arches off the bed, a loud, surprised moan coming from your throat.
You wrap your fingers around his hand between your legs, give him a begging gaze to wait, uncertain if you crave a relieving end or more of his deep, filling thrusts.
“Wait- I'm coming- Zack-”
Instead of waiting or slowing, the pressure of Zack's finger only increases and the trained circles he draws over the sensitive spot send you to heaven, make you throw your head back.
“Yes, go ahead, come on my cock like the little bitch you are” he breathes out with a shaky voice, fingers trembling around your throat and squeezing a little harder to send you over the edge.
It's all he has to do to make you come undone with a loud whine and while you grab his hand to stop the overstimulation, the fingers of your other hand once more dig into his skin, rip off a part of the bandages, make it hang loose around his arm where it reveals the burned skin beneath.
Even though your eyes plead him to slow down or give you a break, he decides against it, picks up his pace again and leaves you a whimpering, moaning mess.
His mess. The result of him, his touch, his love.
The thought almost makes him come and with a frustrated growl, his fingers grab your throat a little harder again, push you back into the mattress while he leans forward to rest the tip of his nose against yours.
“I love you, fuck, I really love you. You do too, don't you? You love me, right?”
His words are nothing more than a brabbled mess in a cloud of pleasure, almost too many for you to really understand in your high, euphoric state.
Your mind is nothing but starry ecstasy embedded in cozy fog, but you manage to get the words out because you know how much he wants to hear them, how much he deserves to hear them.
Because he's everything to you and you hate how he doubts that sometimes.
You nod quickly, tears in your eyes as you look up at him.
“I love you, I love you so much, Zack.”
No matter how much the words would gross him out usually, it's different with you. Coming from you, it's the most wonderful thing he has ever heard, the thing that heals the deep wound inside of him that he never knew how to soothe before meeting you.
Your words kill him, in a soft, beautiful way and he feels his heart skip a beat, feels warmth seeping through his chest.
His breath is heavy against your lips as he loosens his hand from your throat and rests his weight on one arm next to your body, while he places the other one on your hip, holds you in place as he thrusts into you for the last few times.
“You're so warm. So fucking warm and soft for me, so good, only for me-”
He interrupts himself with a desperate moan, his hips pushing against yours in an almost painful way.
No matter how deeply he moves into you, he craves to crash more of both your limits, eventually becomes frustrated because no words, no touch or action could really show how much he loves, craves, worships you.
“You're mine, only mine, fuck-”
His words get lost in a loud groan, one he barely has enough breath for and his hips twitch against yours as his nails dig into your skin, hold you in place as he comes inside of you, paints your insides white like he wants to leave a mark of himself there forever, to leave an undeniable reminder of his love.
His body trembles and shivers beneath exhaustion and relief and at some point, you ignore the heat between the two of you to put your arms around his neck, enjoy his scent and warmth as he gently leans his head against your shoulder.
“I'm all yours, Zack, All yours” you mumble into his ear, feel him shiver in excitement beneath your lips.
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CBS Ghosts - Viking Funeral - Women's Vote
Spoilers may appear.
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This scene is so important. Especially as a woman.
I love that Alberta approaches cautiously, but purposely. She knows that it's important and that Hetty's time things were different. I imagine that this isn't the first time she's heard of Hetty's thoughts about things like not voting because it's what she was taught, but this time, she wants a change.
Because things have to change to move forward. So, she asks - please, let me speak.
And I'm glad that Hetty and Alberta have this conversation.
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I really appreciate that Alberta is gentle but straightforward.
In Hetty's time, men were in control of everything.
In Alberta's time, women were given the right to vote but it was made difficult.
In Flower's time, things were more equal.
And that's the point Alberta's trying to make here - that they can't let the man still control things in their afterlife, too.
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LOL - I love that Flower's just like "Go us!"
Alberta's just like - I made this big speech and you're talking about acid. ooooh, child.
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It's still something special, the way Alberta approaches Hetty to summarize.
Women worked hard for their rights that were denied them, Hetty has the opportunity to use them, so to *not* use them is just unfair and wrong in a way.
I really really love this.
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I especially love Hetty actually *listening* to her and agreeing to vote for her. I do wonder how close they were prior to this, but I especially love that it's obvious that this moment has fostered a closer relationship because we see them spend a lot of time together after this.
Hetty's relationships with Alberta, Flower and Sam put her on a journey to be the woman she always could be and it's fun seeing how she was at the beginning (clinging to Isaac) to being able to fight for herself.
And that buildup into the next season or so leads to the betrayal making things all the more harder.
thanks for reading :)
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alfedena · 8 months
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I don’t mean this aggressively (just want to understand your point of view), but do you really think that Zionism was never about Jewish safety? even though there were a lot of racists and antisemites involved in establishing the state of Israel, basically everyone I know who supports Zionism (while nonetheless being very critical of the Israeli government) and is involved in supporting it in one way or another comes at it from the point of view of wanting to protect Jews & preserve Judaism… it’s hard for me to wrap my head around that not being a significant part of what Zionism about, in spite of all the evil things find & said in favour of it.
i could probably write a really long winded post but here if you can’t see how israel suppresses jewish culture for the benefit the nation-state, capitalism, and settler-colonialism i don’t really know what to tell you … israel was formulated around the same time our modern notions of the nation began to spring up (surprise! this notion is established on the existence of an imagined other which it can persecute!) it is quite literally operating in the legacy of the same nationalism that committed the holocaust.
not to mention something else i just learned - a lot of early zionist writers used anti-semitic tropes (effeminate, weak, morally disfigured, unattractive, parasitic) to justify the creation of an israeli state that would in turn foster what they called “the muscular jew” because they believed the diaspora was inferior
+ israel can at any time withdraw one's right to aliyah, making it literally not a state for all jewish people
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Would you really give your life for him?
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I wonder how many of the people who lust about Isaac Foster would actually let him have his way with them? Will you accept that he will likely cause you pain and suffering? Will you offer yourself to him knowing that?
Do people truly take the time to think about it? To surrender your soul to a criminal and accept the consequences that come with it? I cannot take those who fangirl over him seriously, and their intention is likely not serious, but it still irks me to see the plentiful fanfics and posts about how hot Zack is and how they would let him kill them.
I'm envisioning Zack as a real serial killer in the flesh, in this life.
I like to imagine the scenario of Zack being "real" and being with him during his acts of killing and torture. Sacrificing my own life, family, friends, etc. to be on the run with the serial killer, evading the law and people. It would be terrifying, I would be scared, I would probably cry and have moments of longing for my normal life. But the idea of being with Zack if such an event were to occur is like an instinct to go through with it and follow him. It's a necessity that I'm destined to be with him.
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theamd426 · 1 year
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Potential JATP WIP. Working title is Together I Think That We Can Make It.
Basically in this fic Reggie is a foster kid who get's diagnosed with Leukemia over summer break. Victoria works in the cancer ward at the LA Children's hospital, and will eventually try and persuade Ray to take him in once he gets out of the hospital.
This is a WIP fic, and I want to wait until it's completely done to post on AO3, but I'd love some feedback so far. Also if you're interested in being a beta reader let me know!
Reggie sighed as the elevator rang, reaching the 5th floor. The doors opened and he was quickly wheeled inside the cancer ward at the Children’s Hospital Los Angeles. Reggie’s caseworker, Todd gave him a comforting smile as one of the nurses wheeled Reggie into the ward.
“It doesn’t seem so bad here,” Todd said as Nurse Victoria wheeled Reggie into his room.
The room itself still looked like a hospital room, but it wasn’t completely bare and sterile. The walls were painted a nice crisp white, and there were built in wood cabinets surrounding a big tv that helped give the room some warmth. Right under the window there was a small seating area with an arm chair and a green couch, that most likely turned into a pullout bed in case a patients family slept over.
“You can decorate however you like,” Victoria said, with a smile. “With discretion I might add. This is still a children’s ward. So please no pictures of drugs or naked girls.”
“Not even if they’re scientific,” Reggie said, bitterly.
Todd gave nudged Reggie’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“Watch your attitude please,” he said, slightly annoyed.
“Sorry,” Reggie mumbled. “You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t really have anything to decorate with.”
Victoria gave Reggie a sad smile, knowing his situation. She knew first hand how hard it is to witness a family member go through cancer, and she witnessed countless kids and their families fight everyday, but she never imagined how hard it would be to fight this battle as a kid with absolutely no one in your corner.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to not act upset about what Todd said to Reggie.
He was a foster kid who had just been abandoned by his last foster placement and was now getting treated for cancer. He had every right to be bitter and upset.
Todd set Reggie’s trash bag of belongings on the floor next to his bed. He then turned to Victoria and gave her a fake smile.
“Is there anything I need to sign before you get started with his treatment?” He asked, glancing down at his watch.
“No, I think we’re good. We’ve already gone over his treatment plan with you guys and we will contact you again if anything changes.”
Todd nodded his head and pulled out his phone to check his text messages. After sending a couple of texts, he put his phone away and gave Reggie a very fake smile.
“Okay, well you have my number if you need anything,” he said, before turning and walking out of the hospital.
“Too bad I don’t have a phone,” Reggie said, plopping down on his bed.
“I’m going to go grab you a hospital gown and then we’re going to get you ready to get your port,” Victoria said, trying to lighten the mood. “When was the last time you had anything to eat or drink?"
"I got a take home lunch yesterday at school, and I had some water last night around eight thirty," he said.
"You didn't eat dinner" Victoria asked kind of shocked.
Reggie just shook his head and started to remove his worn-out converse. If he was going to be stuck in this ward for the next few months while he went through chemo then he was at least going to be comfortable.
Victoria looked over the skinny teenager and realized he was probably starving, that combined with his worn-out clothes led her to think that he was possibly neglected in his last placement.
"Okay, then after we insert your port I’ll bring you anything you want from the HBO café downstairs,” she said handing him the menu that was on the dresser. "Dr. Isaac said you don't need to go on a neutropenic diet just yet, so if I were you I'd take advantage of the greasy options now."
“Thanks,” Reggie said, taking a deep breath out.
Victoria paused for a moment before reaching for the trash bag on the floor.
“We need to wash your clothes to make sure that everything is sterile,” She said, sympathetically. “Do you have anything in that bag that doesn’t need to be washed - photos, trinkets, or books maybe?
“No,” Reggie shrugged. “It’s all Goodwill clothes.”
“Okay then,” Victoria said picking up the trash bag. "Dumb question, but do you want the bag back?”
“Will you guys give me something to put my clothes in when I leave?”
“Yes, of course,” Victoria said, trying not to tear up.
"Then yeah go ahead and toss it. I've been using that bag for a about a year anyway."
Victoria picked up all of Reggie’s belongings and brought it over to laundry management. She tried her best to keep her composure until she was completely alone. She knew good and well that she was about to start several jars in the break room to raise money to not only buy Reggie a damn suitcase, but to also get him some decent clothes and decorations.
Victoria was going to be damned if this kid survived cancer and had to leave with all of his belongings inside of a plastic hospital bag.
As Victoria was off getting everything ready for Reggie to receive his port, Reggie laid back on his hospital bed and did his best to fight back his tears. All he wanted at the moment was for his two best friends to come and be with him. But it was the first day of Summer break, and Reggie didn’t have the heart to tell either of his friends that he was diagnosed with Cancer, and now he didn’t know if how he’d be able to reach out to them without a phone or tablet. Basically he was stuck watching cable all day long.
Maybe Alex was right. Maybe they shouldn’t have forged his foster parents signature so that Reggie could donate blood.
****
“I’m not doing it,” Alex, Reggie’s best friend and bandmate, said after throwing away his blood drive form.
“But you and Luke haven’t even done it,” Reggie said, looking back and forth between Alex and Luke, Reggie’s other best friend and bandmate. “You guys haven’t done it yet right?”
“No, we haven’t had sex yet,” Alex said, rolling his eyes as he playfully pushed Reggie. “But, it’s complete bullshit that we’d be banned for life the second we do. It’s homophobic.”
Reggie sighed knowing this was going to mean he’d be giving blood alone. Luke was terrified of needles and Alex was apparently now protesting the matter.
“I don’t know,” Reggie said, sadly. “I kind of wanted to know my blood type.”
Alex’s face softened. He knew Reggie didn’t know much about his genetics. His birth parents gave him up for adoption when he was a baby, and then when he was 10 his adoptive parents dissolved his adoption. The now 16-year-old has had 13 foster placements ever since.
“You should still do it then,” Alex said, nudging Reggie’s shoulder. “We probably wouldn’t be scheduled for the same class period anyway.”
“I don’t know,” Reggie said shrugging his shoulder. “I doubt Caleb would even sign the permission form.”
“Who says he has to sign it?” Luke said, smirking.
“No, no, no!” Alex said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “Do you know how much trouble he would get into if he forged his foster dad’s signature?”
“I don’t know,” Reggie said, shrugging his shoulders. “Worst case scenario, he kicks me out. Which, might I add, will probably happen in the next month or so anyway.”
Alex sighed and shook his head.
“I’m still totally against this plan and if anyone asks, I had nothing to do with this.”
“Yeah, but out of the three of us, you have the best handwriting,” Luke pointed out.
“Please,” Reggie begged. “I may not get this chance again until I’m 18.”
“Bobby has way better handwriting then I do,” Alex said, pouting. “Just ask him tonight at band practice.”
“He has to go to his brother’s softball game tonight,” Reggie reminded him. “And the permission form is due tomorrow.”
“Stupid private school,” Luke grumbled. “It’s not fair that he get’s to go to Los Feliz and we don’t.”
“To be fair, my parents offered to send me to Los Feliz, but I wouldn’t dare to leave you idiots alone,” Alex said, smirking.
“I uh… I actually was offered a scholarship,” Reggie said, blushing. “But I won’t be able to go unless they can find a foster home closer to the school.”
“Your joking?” Alex said, shocked.
Reggie shook his head.
"It's not going to happen though," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Los Feliz is full of rich families. They don't foster, and if they do, then they're just doing it so they can get a baby with no trauma."
"So your stuck here with me?" Luke said hopeful that his two best friends weren't leaving him behind.
"Yeah, your not getting rid us that easy," Reggie said with a smile. He then turned to Alex and gave him his best puppy dog eyes. "Please? For a kid who doesn't know where he came from?"
“Fine,” Alex grumbled. “I’m going to kill both of you if we get caught though.”
“Dude relax,” Reggie said, smiling. “We’re not going to get caught.”
****
Reggie felt unusually tired the day of the blood drive, and he couldn’t figure out why especially since nothing in his routine had changed in the past couple of days. He did go to bed a little later than he usually did since his foster father Caleb caught him coming in after curfew. He spent the better half of the night listening to his foster father yell and berate him before locking him in his bedroom. It was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before, so he couldn’t understand why he was so exhausted.
“You look tired,” Alex said, leaning on the locker beside Reggie’s.
“Caleb was in a big mood last night,” Reggie said, yawning. “I’m probably getting moved after we finish exams.”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, sympathetically. “Maybe your next placement will be better?”
Reggie slammed his locker shut and shrugged his shoulders. He had been moved so much lately that it didn’t really bother him.
“I doubt it,” he said, walking to class. “No one voluntarily takes in teenagers, especially ones who have been rehomed.”
Alex bit his lip, he wanted to ask his parents if they could take in Reggie, but he knew Reggie was openly bi and he didn’t want to subject Reggie to their homophobia. It was already bad enough hiding his own relationship with his parents, he didn’t want to force Reggie to do the same if he found someone he really liked.
As the two got closer to their first period pre-calculus class, Alex perked up and immediately started to reach in his book bag.
“I almost forgot,” Alex said, pulling out a breakfast sandwich. “My mom said that you should never give blood on an empty stomach.”
“You told your mom I was giving blood?” Reggie asked.
“Well… not exactly,” Alex said, blushing. “My dad gave blood for our church’s blood drive last month and my mom made a big scene about him eating a big breakfast that morning.”
“You do know I get free breakfast and lunch right?” Reggie asked, furrowing his brows.
“Yeah, but school food sucks,” Alex said, shivering at the thought. “I honestly don’t know how you and Luke eat it everyday.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Luke eat worse,” Reggie said, giggling. “Last weekend I saw him put mashed potatoes on a waffle. It was disgusting.”
“Yeah, that checks out,” Alex agreed. “I still don’t know how you do it though.”
Reggie just shrugged his shoulders and took a bite out of the breakfast sandwich Alex gave him.
“I don’t know… I guess when the alternative is not eating you kind of just get over the taste.”
Alex looked at Reggie with sad eyes as the two walked into class and took a seat at their desks. Reggie quickly finished his sandwich and started to open his worn-out notebook.
****
Reggie was scheduled to give blood right at the beginning of 3rd period, which means he was missing music with Alex and Luke. Luke wished Reggie good luck at the end of chemistry, and Reggie made Luke promise to grab a review packet for him for their final next week. He didn’t have access to private music lessons like Luke or Alex, so music class was the only chance he had to learn theory.
When Reggie arrived in the gym for the blood drive there weren’t as many students as he imagined. Most of the students were volunteering for the blood drive for their nursing classes. He assumed that more students would be willing to donate, but the gym was practically empty, meaning that they will probably stop doing blood drives next year.
Once he was at the front of the line to check in, one of the nursing students took his permission slip, that Alex did a pretty good job forging, and started to take his vitals. Reggie was a bit worried that he wouldn’t pass the weight requirement, since he hadn’t been eating as much as he normally does. His weight did drop, but he was still above the required weight and height for donating blood so he was let through.
After his passing his initial check up, Reggie was finally brought over to the area where students were waiting to get poked. Reggie waited five minutes and was then escorted to a chair.
His nurse, Gloria, gave him a big smile as she started looking for veins. Once she was sure she found a good vein she told Reggie to relax his arm and turn his head so he didn’t have to look at the needle going into his arm. But Reggie didn’t. Instead, Reggie just stared at his arm as the needle went in.
“Wow, you didn’t flinch at all,” Gloria said as she taped Reggie up.
“It’s not the worst pain I’ve been in,” he said with a smirk.
Gloria gave him a sad smile and handed him a stress ball. Reggie started to squeeze the ball allowing his blood to come out quicker.
“Okay, I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” Gloria said, taking her gloves off. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll try not too,” Reggie said, sarcastically.
Reggie gently squeezed the stress ball, but after a few minutes of squeezing his hands started tingling, his limbs started to feel heavy, and he started to feel really tired. He blinked for a bit and did his absolute best to keep his eyes open and stay awake.
“Come on,” he said, focusing on his blinking. “You can fall asleep when you get home. Don’t cause a problem.”
Reggie’s eyes continued to flutter for a few moments longer before he couldn’t feel anything and everything went completely black.
****
Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Reggie groggily opened his eyes to the steady sound of a heart rate monitor letting everyone know that he was still alive.
He looked around the room and saw dozens of nurses and doctors walking around the ER triage center as they assessed different patients. He looked around the room and furrowed his brows when he saw pictures of kittens and clowns on the wall. The sound of a toddler crying only solidified his hypothesis. He was in the ER at the Children's Hospital of Los Angeles. Reggie groaned and started looking for a way to quietly remove the wires that were hooked up to him. Butt after one accidental bad move, the monitors went off and an ER Nurse came rushing in. She looked over him for a minute before giving him a comforting smile.
“It’s good to have you back in the land of the living,” the nurse said as he started to check Reggie’s vitals. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine,” Reggie said, rubbing his eyes. “What happened?”
“You passed out at a blood drive,” he said, seriously. “Do you know what happened? Did you just forget to eat maybe?”
Reggie shook his head, he had devoured that breakfast sandwich the moment Alex gave it to him, and he snagged a blueberry muffin from the cafeteria. He should have been fine.
“Okay, well we’re testing your blood right now just to be safe,” he said, gently. “Your school gave us your dad’s number but he didn’t pick up. Is there anyone else we can call?”
Reggie sighed as he bit his lip. He knew his social worker Todd was going to have to find out about him being in the hospital. He just didn’t want to hear the lecture that would surely come from it.
“818-555-0149… that’s my case worker’s number. His name is Todd,” Reggie said, biting his lip.
“Oh,” the nurse said, quietly. “I’ll um… I’ll call him right now.”
Reggie nodded his head as he curled up further in his hospital bed. Nurses and doctors all around him were ignoring him as they all went about their jobs.
As he sat there alone, he started to get flashbacks to when he was 10 and he was abandoned in this very ER after his appendix burst. He thought his parents left to go fill out paperwork for his surgery, but after a few hours, they never came back. The hospital called their names several times over the intercom, but nobody ever came.
That was the day Reggie found out that he wasn't biologically related to his parents. He was adopted, and they didn't want him anymore.
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Parent!Phan With LGBTQ+ Children Masterlist
Anna Bi-nana (ao3) - phanielspiano
Summary: Anna Lester comes out as bisexual to her family.
a rose by any other name (would smell as sweet) (ao3) - truerequitedlove
Summary: Dan and Phil are finally able to foster a child, and a shy teenager shows up at their door with long messy hair and an averted gaze.
Be Yourself - dxnhowell
Summary: Dan and Phil's son has always talked about boys, ever since he was younger. He surprises his parents when he brings home a girl one day and introduces her as his girlfriend. Dan and Phil knows something is up and they want to get to the bottom of it.
I’m Not Isaac (ao3) - finching
Summary: Dan and Phil's child Isaac isn't Isaac at all. Her name is Isabelle.
Introduction (ao3) - croissantbleu (orphan_account)
Summary: Dan and Phil find a note from their child on the kitchen counter
love, simon (ao3) - danhoweiis, twoheadlights (fizzfic)
Summary: Like fathers, like son.
or: Simon Lester has something he needs to tell his dads.
Making a Change (ao3) - binchmarner
Summary: Winston takes the first step in his transition by getting his hair cut. A fluffy angsty story reflecting the doubts and anxiety trans youth have.
The LGBT YouTubers’ who’d transitioned described the first step being the hardest, whether that's coming out to parents, or even just cutting their hair. But Winnie’d never imagined that he wouldn't be able to leave his damn seat.
Perfect Son - dxnhowell
Summary: Dan and Phil's son loves dressing up in girls clothes and even wearing makeup sometimes. When he gets a bit older, people start bullying him. Dan and Phil are tired of what other people think of their son, but they know he's happy and that's all that really matters to them.
Pride (ao3) - KaytheJay
Summary: Dan and Phil's daughter comes out and admits she wants to go to pride.
Protective - dxnhowell
Summary: Dan and Phil's daughter comes out to them as lesbian.
Proud (ao3) - pasteldanhowells
Summary: Elisse Lester is seventeen, and she’s ready to come to her parents about her sexuality. She knows it’ll be fine. She has two dads for crying out loud. But, that won’t stop her from being nervous. Luckily, her girlfriend is there to assure her that everything will be fine.
Say What You Need (ao3) - binchmarner
(TW) Summary: Dan and Phil moved to the Isle of Man after their close friend and surrogate Louise Pentland had given birth to twins, Deila Rose, and Edward "Teddy" James Howell (the fact that one baby became two had been a real shock to all three of them). They'd quickly decided that the city of London was too hectic for the new parents to settle down and have a family, and the Isle of Man was close enough to Phil's parents so they could still pursue their YouTube careers, and Grampy and Grammy Lester were always happy to babysit.
"No, no, Phil not like that. Like, she seems to be...distant from us."
~*~
Parents Dan and Phil learn something new about their fourteen year old son.
The Daughter Named Rosie (ao3) - ThingsThatRuinedMyLife
Summary: Dan and Phil are so happy to bring home their beautiful little girl Rosie. As she gets older, things get discovered and they all learn to cope.
The daughter, the girlfriend, and the fathers (ao3) - Euphoria_Venus
Summary: Dan and Phil have a 16-year-old daughter named Elizabeth. Liz comes home one day with a girl named Charlie who she declares is her girlfriend. Dan is super protective of his family and starts harassing Charlie.
The Universe Just Made a Mistake (ao3) - sapphicGarland
Summary: Dan and Phil’s son ‘starts’ a bit too early, surprising the doctors and sending dysphoric angst through the boy
OR: Trans problem #151: starting your period
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isaac-morey · 1 year
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Changing Tides || Isaac and Avery
With the school year over and paperwork finalized, Avery finally moves in and Isaac starts the journey of being a foster parent.
A moment told, largely, through very small eyes.
TW: None
"S'very big." 
That had been the first observation of the rather small person standing in the doorway of a room that, to Isaac, didn't seem large at all. But he wasn't the one seeing it in quite the same way. Avery had a different view, and to him the walls looked quite towering, they were a nice blue color though, and the space was like many of the spaces for people who lived outside the water that he had seen before.
It was very square, he noticed, because houses above the waters were that shape. He didn't know why exactly but someone must have decided it; the same someone who decided that walls needed to be very hard and not very easy for light to come through either except from the cutout boxes they made in them. 
Why live in the sunshine if so much work was put into keeping it outside and use all the fake light that came from boxes and -lamps? was that the word?- instead? 
Avery considered that and, if given the choice, he would have rather lived in the water, yes, but that was quite hard to do lately and he couldn't blame the nice people who didn't understand that it was better. 
They couldn't even breathe in the water! That had been very impossible to imagine before he'd learned it was true. 
Sometimes breathing out of the water was hard for him, it was scary trying to catch his breath when he got too excited or ran around too much; and people on shore weren't even born knowing how to swim! 
He'd had to learn how to walk on land. Sometimes he still wasn't much good at it. 
So since they couldn't breathe there and missed out on living in water instead they lived in boxes rather than domed glassy structures or mossy caves and glowy places. 
Strange.
At least that box was nice to look at, colorful, outside and in, not at all like the terribly cold and empty feeling ones where everything was white and he had been afraid to touch anything because only the most delicate things were pale and softly colored back home.
The room did have some in common with others though, Avery decided. 
Things like beds with their tangling sheets and strangely fluffy pillows were a learned familiarity now, even if he sometimes woke up coughing because he forgot to use the parts of his lungs that were made for land when he rolled over at night and those pillows felt too much like soft sand and the blankets curled all up like seaweed. 
But he supposed it was a nice bed too; it didn't look so huge he felt lost in it like he had some places he had stayed. 
Those places hadn't been expecting him, Avery guessed, because they weren't put together very well for someone like himself; someone smaller and easily lost in large spaces. 
But that room was, he decided; the walls were blue like the ocean even though it wasn't really water, and the floor had something -he puzzled over the correct word for the the slightly spiky but soft texture that felt grainy under his bare feet- the color of sand on beaches. 
But it wasn't sand. A lot of things in the world above water seemed like things they were not. 
"It is big right now, but it'll start to feel smaller when you find things you want to add to the room. We can change whatever you want." The man, Mr. Isaac, teacher -he had a lot of names, Avery thought- explained and it immediately brought a question to mind. 
"Can I put the blue fish here?" He quickly asked. He liked all the fish -they also lived in boxes - but he liked the blue fish who lived alone the most. The times he had visited the house over the last few weeks had given him plenty of chances to get to know most of them, and he did have favorites. 
Avery had been very worried the boxes must have felt terrible for fish to live in, but all the ones he had talked to in the house had never even seen the ocean! He couldn't imagine that. And said the big boxes with clean water and lots of food were much better than the tiny boxes they'd lived in before the house. 
So it wasn't very different from himself. 
"Cobalt? Well, sure, we can move him over here to this shelf if you want." Isaac nodded; the little Betta usually resided in his tank in the living room but given how careful Avery had been around all the fish he couldn't imagine leaving the fish in his room would be a problem. 
The answer was one Avery wanted to hear and sent him headed over to said shelves to inspect the area for exactly where best to place the tank so that he could see it from the entire room. It would take up a whole shelf, so he had to pick carefully which one. 
"Here," he pointed to the one in the very center, mostly empty already.
While there he spotted several other things; books and a few odd creatures made of fabric set within his reach. 
"We can talk about things. Cobalt. He likes to hear about the water." Avery nodded, and at first explaining that fish talked had been quite difficult, but he hadn't been told not to make up stories there, not everyone could speak to fish, apparently, but at least he was believed that time. 
"What's this?" 
Strange, the nearly circular toy wasn't a very bright color when many other things in the house were, no, it was black with white rings like spots across its top and an ivory belly, he discovered, when flipping it over. Unable to decide if the flaps at its sides were fins or funny wings, he held it up, the long thin tail hanging down. 
"That's a stingray, it's a type of sea creature, sort of like a fish. They glide in the water." Isaac explained, having come to understand over the months that while the little boy was some manner of aquatic Magick, he wasn't one familiar with many of the oceans. 
That was one of the most perplexing things about Avery, but only one of an otherwise long list. 
"Ray," he repeated, giving the toy a squeeze and envisioning some great big fish gliding in the water as though it were flying; that sounded more like home than what he knew of fish in that new place. 
It was soft pressed to his face, like the tiny tendrils of purple algae that flowered on his own bed back home. 
"Can I keep it?" 
Isaac smiled, as though the question came more as a pleasant surprise. "Of course you can." 
Later, after Cobalt's tank had been moved, Avery had continued his curious inspection.
Hesitant at times, he discovered things that he couldn't help be excited over like the small box called a sound machine that filled his room with the echoes of water and waves. 
He had carefully carried it over to place on the table next to the bed as though it were too important to be out of sight for very long.
He didn't know what sort of magic it was, but it must have been magic if a whole ocean of sounds fit into that little white box with the buttons that lit up when touched. 
He'd pressed each one, seaglass green eyes going wide and bright as each offered a new version of waves rolling on the shore or bubbling deep in the depths, and even the haunting calls of creatures singing to each other. 
Or the copies of books that he had liked in the classroom because of their pictures of animals that lived in waters he was only just learning about stacked neatly on one of the shelves. He pulled each out and laid them across the floor so he could search more easily for pictures of stingrays to hold up for inspection by the newly named Ray. 
"Do your cousins look like this?" He asked, even though Ray didn't answer; but he'd already decided that since shore elves were his cousins that different colored stingrays must have been Ray's cousins as well. 
He wanted very much to go back to the ocean soon, but at least he had blue walls and fish to talk to until then. Maybe this time it would be for longer; he liked the house and the room, and of course all the fish, and Ray, and Mr. Isaac had been very nice to him as a teacher so he was certain living with him would be much better than any of the places that felt like a space for him hadn't been something planned. 
Hopefully the tides wouldn't change again too soon; it was awfully hard to know sometimes.
And it wasn't too different from what school had been; storytime would just be stories before bedtime instead of naptime, snack time wasn't that different from dinners or breakfast or lunch, and he could help feed the fish! And he didn't have to share those things with any of his school friends at all. 
"Do you like it here Ray?" He hugged the plush toy tightly to feel the softness of it pressed to his arms and face. "I think I do." 
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tonopahfallshq · 2 years
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CONNECTION FOR REINA SANTIAGO
Character Name: UTP Navarro (or a diff surname if he changed it) Character Age: Late 30s-early 40s Character FC: Tbh I 100% see him as JR Ramirez, but other suggestions include Oscar Isaac, Maurice Compte, Matt Cedeño– anyone of Cuban descent. Gang Affiliation?: Probs not. Connection: Reina Santiago’s biological older brother Summary of Character:  -The Navarros brought their son and daughter to the United States from Havana, Cuba, when they were both very young. Due to problems with their immigration papers, the parents were deported back to Cuba while Reina and her older brother were loaded into the system. At that point, they were separated and haven’t seen each other since, so this WC is pretty wide open for the most part. His upbringing and experiences within foster care are completely up to the player. As for his adult life, to put a fun spin on things, I think it'd be interesting if he became an ATF agent, who, conveniently, has been tasked with investigating the escalating gang violence in Tonopah Falls after recent events. Between the MC's gun running and the cartel's drugs, he'd be plenty busy. And if all of that wasn't enough, he gets to finally reunite with his baby sister, who happens to be closely tied to one of the gangs he's charged with bringing down.  -When it comes to their dynamic, Reina absolutely adored her brother when they were younger. Obviously, several years have passed but she still thinks of him often and misses him terribly. But I imagine the nature of their reunion will probably be pretty strained, given where both of them stand on the crime in Tonopah, but all this is wide open and I’m happy to just see how it plays out.  -A lot of this is wide open and negotiable, so hit me with whatever ya got! Contact?: (either message the main or the person who brought you here for the contact information)  
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