#Airport to Dead Sea

[ohpossumking]

pain is sitting a t the airport waiting for you flight and eating subpar smoked almonds

I miss you :((

#Salt is low I need to consume all of the dead sea right now!!! #I am sitting down and my heart rate is 100 #I love having pots syndrome #anyways these airport almonds suck they are not salty enough #rahhhhhhhhh

[cockdestroyer32]

all mine

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 2304

summary: after the events in the bullet train in tokyo, you and ladybug have a new job in a new place, unfortunately, you're not alone.

a/n: okay so in this reader's codename is sarin. and you're besties w ladybug bc I lov him. title is from brent faiyaz's 'all mine' which has nothing to do with this fic but I didn't know what to name this and I rlly love that song so. also no smut in this.

When I grow up, I wanna be famous I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies, when I grow up I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies.

The song blew out of the car’s speakers, and both you and Ladybug sang each word perfectly (and very obnoxiously, you were practically yelling out the lyrics.) He drove and you sat in the passenger seat, you both swinging your arms around dancing tirelessly as the citizens of Greece who were able to spy inside the moving car judged your shameless partying. You hadn’t seen Ladybug in months, so when you found out you were finally going to be assigned to a mission together again, you both beamed, and got together to plan your entire trip from the cities of New York to the city of Larissa. You went from cackling a little too loudly at comedy movies on the plane, to endless chatter at the airport, to listening to your iconic super duper awesome 2000s hits playlist on a rented Jeep (the playlist title was Ladybug’s decision.) There’s no one you’d rather work with. Except…you weren’t working alone tonight. 

This hit wasn’t just any hit, it was a stakeout. So, Lemon and Tangerine were called. 

You had walked into Tangerine a few times before; New Zealand, Cuba, Romania, and Tokyo, of course. You’d been the longest with him while in Tokyo, when you had to team up because of a lost briefcase. He was incredibly irritating and the different ways you both did your job clashed immensely, but by the end of the night you two had worked frustratingly well together. 

You’d never met Lemon before though, you hoped to God he wasn’t just a Tangerine 2. 

“Oh, boo!” Ladybug starts and you join him when you look up.

“Booo!” You yell out at the warehouse as if it’s just told some awful joke at a stand-up show.

The building has the same architectural creativity as a cardboard box. Except that instead of brown, it’s grey and dirty, and instead of holding a gift you just spent the last days waiting anxiously to arrive at your home, it just holds the next gruesome hours you’ll spend planning your hit.

You and Ladybug allow The Pussycat Dolls to finish the last few seconds of their song and turn off BlueTooth before you can be sad about not singing Britney.

You sigh and say, “It’s gonna be a long night.”

“Yep, but the sooner we do it sooner we’re done. Come on, let’s meet the fruit duet.” You chuckle.

The warehouse acted as a lighthouse, the nighttime a sea of nothingness. You can spot the remnants of the trucks that passed by in this area marked in the muddy ground. Tonight smells of wet grass and fancy dinner parties, the ones you should be in right now.

You enter the warehouse, the night’s cold air vanishes and it shifts to a warm, still atmosphere. You take off your coat. Tangerine and two other men are already in the room. Even at such a dead spot in town, Tangerine is still dressed elegantly, sporting a blue striped suit that fitted him perfectly, and smelling of rich men’s perfume. You often wondered if he could fight in those suits. Although you loved a good luxurious suit—God knows your blood money could buy one, your closet was full of Versace, Vivienne Westwood, Dolce & Gabbana and Burberry—you preferred to wear more tactical outfits for the job, you know, in case someone fucked something up and everything went to shit.

“That’s Lemon, by the way.” Ladybug whispers to you, while pointing his head to the man standing in front of Tangerine.

“What? I thought they were supposed to be twins,” Ladybug shrugs.

“Um, I hope we’re not late…you’re Lemon I suppose?” You pretend like Ladybug didn’t just tell you and offer a handshake. He takes it.

“That’s right, and you’re...”

“Sarin.”

You look over to his brother.

“Tangerine.” A nod, no handshake.

“Sarin.”

“You’ve met Ladybug.” You say to the two brothers.

“Yes, we had the pleasure.” The taller man doesn’t hide the sarcasm.

“Accommodating as always, Tangerine.”

“So, shall we?” Says the other man in the room, the one who was managing this whole thing, and you all follow him.

He takes you to a desk where there lie multiple files on different workers and a big map layout of the warehouse. The man shows all of you the place, discussing what approach the team should take for the mission, at what time each one should arrive at the building, the shift times of each warehouse worker, the spots each one should be in…and so on and so forth. Time passes relatively quickly, demanding you and Ladybug a secret high-five, and you all turn to look at the man who’d organized this.

“Yeah. That’s it.” The man repeats.

“Yeah.” You agree, still looking at him.

“You can go home now.” He practically demands.

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to get paid now,” Lemon adds.

“You’ll get paid after you get the job done.”

“Did you not get the memo lad? We get first half now and second half after the job is done.” Tangerine said.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get paid now, didn’t our handler message you?” You asked honestly.

“Well I didn’t bring the money, so what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, but we’re getting paid.” Tangerine insisted.

“There are lots of ATMs in Larissa…” Ladybug spoke. The man mutters some curse word under his breath,

“Fine. I’ll get you your fucking money, but you’re gonna have to wait.” He disappears from sight, making his way up the stairs in the corner of the building.

“Damn, what a Gordon.” Lemon remarks.

“Thomas the Tank Engine?” You ask.

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I think he’s more of a James, just super cocky.”

“Oh my God, there’s two of them.” Tangerine sighs.

“I’m gonna go get some air.” You say.

With your coat in hand, you make your way to a backdoor on the side of the warehouse. Slipping the garment on as soon as you open it, the chilly air cutting through your skin. You slide your hand into one of the coat pockets, finding a small rectangular box and a smooth metallic item. You fish one of the cigarettes out of the box and light it, inhaling the nicotine, warming your body while letting yourself freeze in the moment. You were so far out of town that you couldn’t hear any of the cars, any of the people in Larissa, your team also seemed to be particularly quiet inside the building. Here, it was silent, save for crickets chirping in the vast nothingness that was the field at nighttime. Tomorrow it’d be full of people, receiving and delivering new packages, trucks coming and going and workers arguing amongst each other, all their chatter overlapping, sounds of life, until you all arrive and the sounds of an active workplace morph into that of an action movie, slashing and yelling (no guns, this was supposed to be a somewhat subtle and more practical job) and then, nothing. The building once again ghost quiet, but this time painted red. 

It didn’t bother you. You’d been in this business for way too long to be perturbed by the sounds of the dead now. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the beginning, this is no bombshell. Although the still of a city that’s beginning to fall asleep is much better than one that had its commotion ripped away from it. So you took these quiet moments you had to yourself and held them tightly in your hand, like some old trinket gifted to you by someone special. And for a few moments, as you exhaled the smoke out of your body, you felt outside of space and time, frozen in the moment, your feet planted on the ground, scared that if you move even an inch, you’ll fall off the face of the earth. You melt off the moment when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Tangerine stands by the back door on your right, looking at you. You’re not sure how long he’s been there, but he has a calm look on his face, a smile on his eyes but not on his lips, by far much different than all of the ticked-off facial expressions you’d seen on him before.

“The fuck are you looking at?” You tease.

“Geez. I’ve just come to get some air.” He walks in your direction. You offer him your cigarette, he takes it. You two breathe together for a while before you ask,

“Do you like this?”

“What? Jobs in the middle of nowhere handled by some fucking dickhead who can’t even pay us right?”

“No. This.” You look around, motioning slightly to your surroundings, “The quiet. We don’t get a lot of it in our job.”

“I suppose we don’t,” He passes the cigarette back to you. “It is kinda nice, I can hear my thoughts for once, don’t have to listen to Lemon yapping about.”

You snort. “He’s nice. I was scared he was gonna be like you.”

“What? I’m nice.”

You stare at him.

“How am I not nice?” He continues.

“How are you not nice? Okay let’s see, you’re impatient, you’re always irritated, you look like you’re constantly on the edge of throwing a fit, you’re always cursing people out and you always got that look on your face of a teen girl who just got her phone taken away by her parents.”

He takes this in for a second, surprised at the speed of your answer, as if you’d been waiting for this moment for a while, and maybe you were.

“Hm…still think I’m nice.” He adds, you smile to yourself, nodding your head in fake disbelief.

You can feel his eyes on you, even as you take another puff on your cigarette and stare at the darkness. You don’t look back, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“S, Fruit, guy’s back.” Ladybug pops out of the door, and you follow him back into the building, followed then by Tangerine. 

The man now holds bags of money, one for you and Ladybug, and one for Lemon and Tangerine. You finally leave the warehouse, each of you making your way to your hotel rooms. And you would’ve been able to wash the night off your body and rest on the hotel’s comfy bed, if it wasn’t for the misplaced amounts of money. See, your bag and Ladybug’s held only his share, not yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t some scam, your money was placed along with Lemon and Tangerine’s. So, now you’re going up an elevator to Tangerine’s room to get your share. You knock on 215 and he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come in.” You walk into the room, but only close the door slightly, not shutting it, and you stand next to it, ready to just get your money and leave, not expecting to stay here any longer than you have to. He goes to the back of the room and brings back a bag, “Here.”

“Thanks,” You spy inside the room, the place is quiet, most of the lights are off and it holds only one bed. “Is Lemon not here?”

“No, different hotel, leave no trail and such.”

“Oh.” You’re genuinely surprised. Shit, that’s smart, perhaps you and Ladybug aren’t as great professionals as you thought you were—even if the bar when you two worked together was already pretty low.

“What? Is me delivering your money instead that bad?”

You snort. “No, no, that I don’t mind.”

You look at each other for a second, perhaps you should be on your way-

“Are you staying in Greece after the job?”

“Uh, no. Me and Ladybug are going back to New York right after.”

“Oh.” He looks down, the expression on his face something you can’t quite read. “Are you and Ladybug…”

“No! God, no!” You almost yell. “No, he’s my best friend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why?”

“Just…curious.”

Hm. Curious. 

You stare at each other again, a smile on your eyes but not on your lips.

“Okay, I should get going.” You start opening the door to leave.

“Wait,” He says, grabbing your arm. “I think…you should stay here the night.” 

The smile reaches your lips, amused. “Why?”

“You know, you could just stay here the night, if you want…”

“Okay but, why?” You tease. He furrows his brows. “I’m sorry Tangerine, I just don’t know what you’re telling me.” Your words are of someone genuinely confused, but your face and tone tell a different story. He catches on and sighs.

“I’m just saying…you could spend the night here, with me.”

You click your tongue, “Tangerine…you have to speak clearly.”

He squeezes your arm, and approaches his face to yours, changing his tone, “Sarin. I want you to stay. I want you.”

You let your lips fully curve up this time, pleased.

You put both your hands on his face, and close the space between you, only placing a light kiss on his lips, then pulling away to see his reaction. He keeps his eyes shut for a moment, as if still in the moment. Then, he opens his eyes, staring at you for a second, and pulls you in for a stronger kiss. His hands at first cupping your face, then one makes his way towards you back, pulling you in closer, even though you were already as close as you could possibly be right now. You shut the door with your foot behind you, not letting each other go for even one second. Tonight your own bed’s gonna have to wait for you.

#bullet train fanfic #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #tangerine x reader

[octuscle]

Changed circumstances

Jonathan Douglas was annoyed. His father and his older brother, the crown prince, had both been in a bad mood for days. His mother could not be reached, she had probably gone off to the Cote d'Azur with some lover. And Jonathan was bored in his penthouse in New York. The weather was terrible, his mood miserable. But then he had to change something. The family's permanent suite at Las Brisas in Acapulco had just been renovated and the weather forecast for Mexico was excellent. What was keeping him in Manhattan in the sleet?

He called his father's assistant and asked for a jet to be waiting at the airport. And he needed a helicopter, he didn't fancy the after-work traffic right now. And it would also be nice if she could inform Miguel from Las Brisas that he had an hour of personal training every morning at 09:00 for the next two weeks. The answer should have been a warning to him that something was wrong. There was no jet or helicopter available, but a driver would be waiting for him in fifteen minutes. And she had booked a flight for him with Netjets. He would have to contact the hotel directly about the personal training, but she didn't have time for that now. Jonathan was outraged! That was impertinent! But don't get upset, he would just have to get on with it. Even if he hated Netjet. The idea that anyone could have sat in his seat disgusted him.

His anger was somewhat dissipated when, after an exhausting journey, he was finally sitting in the hotel's beach club and looking out to sea. Friends always flew this route on scheduled flights. Unimaginable. He would need a week to recover from the stress.

The next few days were great. Miguel got Jonathan back in shape, the weather was glorious and the parties were great fun. Only his family was annoying. After days of no one being available or having time for him before he left for Mexico, he was now constantly getting calls and emails from his father and brother. But Jonathan was now on vacation. He didn't have time to deal with any boring issues. And he didn't feel like being reproached for not being involved in the family holding company. That was a mistake.

The debacle was already looming when he got up in the morning. 23 new e-mails from his father, his brother and various managers at the holding company. But not a single missed call. Funny, the phone was dead too. Only wifi connection. He had to take care of that after his manicure.

Rosalita got his fingernails back into perfect shape. In between, she whispered with a colleague. When the treatment was finished, she asked Jonathan to pay straight away. For technical reasons, he couldn't write the bill on the room. Damn it, why didn't any of his credit cards work? Exasperated, he put USD 100 on the counter for Rosalita and said that would be fine. Rosalita gave him back USD 20.00 and said that he might still need it. Confused, Jonathan pocketed the bill.

The day got better and better. His door card no longer worked. So Jonathan got into his jeep and drove to reception to have the card recoded. The receptionist asked him to follow her to the hotel manager's office. And then a nightmare began to unfold. The hotel manager informed Jonathan that, in view of the adverse circumstances, he would unfortunately have to demand that the current arrears be settled immediately. Jonathan looked at him questioningly. The hotel manager said that there were currently two months' worth of outstanding bills amounting to USD 60,000.00. And even if he regretted the development and even if Jonathan was a very valued guest, he would have to insist that he receive this money immediately. And if Jonathan wanted to stay in his suite, he would always have to pay the bill a week in advance.

Jonathan asked what the hell was going on. And the hotel manager handed him the New York Times. The spectacular collapse of the family empire was the subject of the front page. Jonathan turned pale.

An hour later, Jonathan was sitting in front of the staff entrance gate, surrounded by his suitcases and a few boxes of things from his suite. On his wrist was the Tudor that he would only wear on the beach at best. But he had left his platinum Rolex Daytona at the hotel to pay off his debt. He still had a little cash, a few watches, some jewelry… But apart from that, he was obviously broke. His cell phone was locked, so he could no longer listen to his voicemail. But there was still enough signal here at the gate to read his e-mails. He should probably have done that earlier. His family and the managers of the family companies on whose board he sat had been desperately trying to reach him for days. In a catastrophic chain reaction, the stock market value of the company had virtually vanished into thin air and the resulting over-indebtedness had led to its collapse. And apparently the family's entire private assets had been frozen as a result.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting here at the gate. He was hungry, thirsty and sweaty. But damn it, his fingernails were freshly manicured. Certainly didn't happen to many homeless people. "Hermano, I heard what happened to you. Can I help you?" Miguel stood in front of him. Not in his gym uniform. In jeans and an undershirt, with a red scarf wrapped around his head. He looked a bit like a little gangster. Jonathan was completely stripped of his sovereignty. He couldn't help it. He started to cry. Miguel took him in his arms and told him to wait here. He would be right back. And he came back with an old rusty pickup truck. Together they loaded up the rest of Jonathan's belongings and drove to Miguel's apartment. Jonathan could stay here for a few days.

The few days turned into weeks. Little by little, Jonathan, who had taken the precaution of calling himself John, sold most of his valuables. To pay Miguel his share of the rent. But also for tobacco and tequila. And for a few clothes that would make him less conspicuous when he hung out with his new pals in cheap bars during the day. By now, only a few items of clothing from his old life remained. Most of the rest had been sold.

When Miguel came home from work, he exploded. John sat in front of the TV again with a beer and watched some soap opera. "¡Pedazo de mierda autocompasiva!" he yelled at John. "Get your ass off the sofa and get to work." John burped and said he was depressed. "You're not depressed, you're just incredibly lazy and spoiled," Miguel replied. "I've got a job for you tomorrow. A rich American tourist is looking for someone to show him around the real Acapulco. I need someone who knows their way around here and speaks Spanish." "But I don't speak any Spanish," John whined. "Estúpido pedazo de mierda. ¿En qué idioma hemos estado hablando durante semanas?" Damn it, Miguel was right.

The kick in the ass was probably just what John needed. He was actually the perfect city guide for the rich and beautiful from Las Brisas. He knew their wishes and problems from his past. And he knew how to satisfy sensationalism in the slums. He knew who to avoid and where to recover stolen watches and wallets. He knew where to get an authentic lunch. And where to find almost every drug on the planet. And since he started showering and brushing his teeth regularly again, he was also occasionally given money to suck a rich tourist's cock and fuck his ass.

It had been a few years since Jonathan had to move out of his suite. Jonathan no longer existed. Jonathan had been flushed into the sewers of New York with the remnants of a corporate empire. Instead, there was Juan. And Juan was a celebrity among the guests at Las Brisas. He knew everyone in Acapulco, could organize everything and get everything. Anyone who wanted to break out of the hotel's artificial world of luxury would discreetly ask for Juan's contact details. Yes, his services were not cheap. But worth every dollar.

Inspired by @randomnobodyandfriends. Pics found @boytoyinrolex, @stargazerguy and @yeahthatsmypapi

#male tf #reality change #male transformation #inked man #white to blue collar tf

[buzzkillers]

Fables and Parables 1|?

Pairing: Namor x Black!Reader

Summary: During a study abroad trip, you accidentally trigger a long-time tradition through a simple word: amen.

Warning: NON-CON, religious themes, non-consensual voyeurism, magical sex pollen, dream-walking, mentions of abortion, attempted forced pregnancy.

PART TWO

There's only so many words in the English language to describe heat, so you'll keep it simple: Oraxco, Mexico was hell on Earth, survival unlikely.

It was a sun-drenched mugginess.

Something heavy and thick that melted the sunscreen right off your skin and had your phone turning off in self preservation. And the worst part? This was before you left the airport; before you even left the damn terminal.

You didn't know what you expected. Oraxco wasn't particularly known for having Iceland type temperatures but no one said it was like this. Like you were kissing the sun. Like the heat had a mind of it's own.

And by the time you found your classmates, your clothes were drenched in sweat and your bags had gone slick in your palms. Thankfully, you weren't the only one.

Underneath what could only be a sunflare, there were only a handful of you, but your tongue went dry as you tried to greet them all. And you know, maybe you weren't in a city.

Maybe the airplane accidentally dropped you off in a Giants oven. Maybe you were being grilled alive. It was the only explanation really. For Christ sake, you've never felt your skin cook before.

And when your professor finally arrived, with suspiciously dry skin and an easy smile the conversations died easily. You couldn't pretend to be upset. You just let her talk and talk and talk.

Her tone, peppier and upbeat as she postponed going straight to the hotel.

Instead, she wanted to risk heat stroke to visit a nearby holy site. A hidden attraction that not many tourists visit. "It's only a few miles east, you'll thank me later," she insisted, the moment she saw the deadly looks etched onto all our faces. "It'll be fun, I promise"

A bold faced lie you thought as by the time you got there, you couldn't help but think it looked less holy and more—abandoned.

Through the heat exhaustion you took in what could only be described as a tall engraved pillar in a sea of dead grass.

It was made of smooth stone and touched by age and thick green vines that wrapped snugly up the pillars pits and grooves. The arms of the vines climbing up and up until it disappeared atop the statue's crest. Shit, it was so far up, you had to crank your head up to see it.

It was beautiful, daunting and as your professor promised: hidden well. The pillar far enough away from the main road that if you weren't looking for it, it would be easily missed.

Clearly, the stone was old. It had to be the fifteenth century, pre-colonialism maybe? The craftsman ship was intricate as well. Each mark and dig woven into rocks that made a story. No, that wasn’t it. Not a story but instead the never ending tail of a serpent that slithered its way to the top of the pillar.

With artful expertise, the tail formed into a man with a heart in one hand and what could only be an infant in the other. Smaller figures surrounded the serpent, their role vague until your professor spoke.

"—a popular myth dating back to the Mayan period. It's said that if you pray at the feet of his statue, the sea serpent will rise from his throne to come up to pick a concubine,"

"The concubine would go through a heat of sort that would urge her to stay in the land of the serpent god till next full moon, where she'll come back to her homeland gifted with pregnancy and rewards for the town,"

Around you everyone nodded in thinly veiled disinterest.

“You only have to pray, give him a request and the fullment will be your exchange for the child.”

You grimaced, “I pray that this sun would disappear, amen”

You’re met with grunts of agreement. The professor dutifully chose to ignore you; instead her mouth just continued to go on and on and on. By the time it was over, you no longer heard the sounds of cars racing by, the trees had become unnaturally still and you were pretty sure that half of your class was sprawled dead on the grass floor.

She did not have to convince anyone to get back onto the bus. You’re in fact the first in your seat, legs splayed out and your head leaning against the heated window. There was an unnatural silence settled onto the bus. No one wanted to speak and you couldn’t blame them.

Your eyes instead stayed stuck on the trees; on the grass that danced beneath the soft wind. The moon had begun to hang high. Its light washed across the city and leaked through the leaves.

Your thighs shifted in your seat, your hand pressed into your cheek. And then you felt it, something hot and sharp like honey that spiked in your belly. A warm sensation that made you droop in your seat before you blinked and looked at the tree line as the engine roared.

The statue peeked back at you in glances and ripples of the leaves that withered over it. You blinked and for a moment, the leaves flicked away completely; your professor said something, the bus began to move at a snail's pace, but you couldn’t listen, you were transfixed.

Utterly hypnotized at the sight of the serpent tail, concrete and covered in rock as it tightened around the pillar. Before the leaves bristled back into place and the bus left the place behind.

You blinked. The warmth in your belly bloomed. Then with a roll of your shoulders, you pretend you saw nothing at all.

__

A few hours later, or maybe a few minutes, a few days? It didn't matter. But it was at that moment, deep down below, beneath sea currents and molten rock; on a throne covered in bones and melted gold, that a God pricked his ears towards the surface and sighed.

#namor x reader #namor x poc!reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor x black reader #namor #namor x fem!reader #namor smut #namor x f!reader #black panther smut #namor fics #black panther fic #namor lemon #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

[transformersarelikemagicalgirlz]

Cybertronian Liminal spaces ideas: TFP

Tunnels (thru Mts, under cities, etc.)

Red Sand Deserts (Rust Sea Similarities)

Large Scale Industrial Sectors (Think big, automated assembly lines; Similar to their factories)

I also feel like truly gigantic cities (Lots of skyscrapers; similar to their cityscapes) would be similar enough to evoke a sense of nostalgia.

Cybertronian Specific Places:

OP - Libraries (the bigger the more nostalgic he gets) and Rome, b/c of the Collusium (I imagine it reminds him of Kaons Arena)

Megs - Rome (Same as OP), Empty Mines, and ruined Forts (even tho their forts 100% looked different, our ruins still give the same effect)

Ratch - Colleges (Academy Days, specifically the long, winding trails from one building to another), Hospital Corridors (If he has a holoform) and Oddly enough, Victorian Houses. Old and creaky, reminiscent of an old era.

Star - The Buj Kalifa (Vosian Remenicent). Sometimes Specific weather patterns, like Hailstorms or Freezing Rain, remind him of the stinging Acid rain of Cybertron. He hates Blizzards too.

Bulk - Construction sites get him. Rome as well (architecture in general, really).

Sounders - Rome, Government Buildings (specifically, the twisting hallways some important buildings have) and castles/forts.

Arcee - Tunnels, Ravines (I imagine she hid a lot on cybertron, cracks in cybs exoplates would be similar to ravines), and old houses (dilapidated buildings, slowly rotting away; similar to one specific spider incident.

KO - Raceways (obv), but also airports (hanger bays specifically) and large scale paint factories. Also, Buj Kalifa (HC that KO is a Grounded Seeker, explaining SS comment in TFP). Maybe medical tents as well? He was a front line medic after all.

Bee - Rocky mountain roads (scouting), ruins like Stonehenge, and ghost towns. Places where life has been destroyed. Also, war ravaged cities and mysterious old paths through the trees.

BD - Similar to Bulk, but add Mines and industrial buildings too.

Smokey - Libraries (not to the same extent as OP tho), old ruins, and abandoned junkyards (similar effect to the transport ship) I also HC that the escape pod made him pretty Claustrophobic. So small spaces are a no go.

Shockers - Labs, research buildings, but also government buildings (Senator days) and hospitals (too pristine/white a room; he slightly panics) HC that Shockers hates the color white with a dying passion.

Jackie - Labs as well, but also hanger bays and random bars get him too. (HC that he basically found Seaspray in a galactic bar.)

Dread/Quake - Old English/French architecture and Rome

Mags - Government buildings, Libraries (somewhat), but mainly offices and conference rooms get this guy.

Arachnid - Dug out Tunnels (insecticon hives), fancy buildings (Senete esch enough; similar to all her targets homes), and out-of-the-way villages (similar to other organic planets easiest targets)

I think that basically everyone (everyone important I think? Cliffs dead so I didn't include him lol).

HOOOOLY FUCK man you put a LOT of thought into this, this is so cool. The bit about lifeless or decayed places igniting that kinda nostalgia in Bee is actually really sad if you think about it.

Man now I wanna see an episode where a relic is found near the remains of the colosseum, and it has a lot of bots on edge.

I feel like the cities with big reflective or iridescent skyscrapers are spot on, especially in the flashbacks. To add to city scenes, in the flashbacks they had huge streets and ramps and freeways that looked a lot like ours too! (Unless I’m remembering wrong and I’m just nuts)

#tfp #transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime #megatron #starscream #bulkhead #tfp arcee #ultra magnus #tfp breakdown #tfp knockout #tfp airachnid #tfp shockwave #tfp soundwave #tfp bumblebee #tfp smokescreen #wheeljack #tfp ratchet #dreadwing #skyquake #liminal spaces #liminal nostalgia

[girlactionfigure]

🔅Wed morning - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

🔻No rockets since 5pm yesterday.

🔸Relative quiet… is the war winding down? On the enemy side, it is their holiday and they are focusing on prep instead of attacks for the moment.  On the Israel side, also prep for a Rafah operations and dealing with US political pressures — while the hostages (if alive) languish in hellish conditions.

▪️CANADA BANS ARMS TO ISRAEL.. (but not to Hamas) Canada announced a ban on arms exports to Israel due to Israel defending itself from Hamas.  The Canadian government's decision to stop the supply of arms to Israel comes against the backdrop of growing pressure from the NDP, the left-wing wing of the government on which Trudeau's coalition depends for its continued survival, which claims in recent weeks that it is not doing enough to "protect the civilian population in Gaza." 

▪️UK SAYS CEASEFIRE SHOULD BE PERMANENT.. Britain's Foreign Minister, David Cameron: "We must try and turn a ceasefire into a permanent ceasefire in Gaza. This will happen if several conditions are fulfilled - we must remove the Hamas leadership from Gaza and we must dismantle the terrorist infrastructure”.

▪️MORE ON EILAT MISSILE.. Sunday night, a cruise missile from the Houthis / Yemen fell in an open area north of Eilat. The Air Force wishes to confirm it was being monitored.

▪️IRAQI MILITIAS, WE ATTACKED ISRAEL AIRPORT.. The pro-Iranian militias in Iraq claim again: we attacked Ben Gurion Airport with a suicide drone.

▪️A NUMBER OF SENIOR HAMAS PEOPLE TAKEN OUT.. over the past week, 3 Hamas commanders as well as other Hamas leadership types have been eliminated.

▪️DEAD SEA DRILL.. an exercise will take place in the Dead Sea area, in order to maintain the alertness and competence of the forces. The exercise will begin in the afternoon and end in the night, and as part of it, a lively movement of the security forces will be felt in the area.  IT’S A DRILL.

▪️PROTESTS.. Distraught hostage families together with “the women's protest” group block Ayalon North highway: "This is on you - do not return from Qatar without a deal."  The police forced them to the side of the highway, where they are being allowed to continue their protest.

#Israel #Realtime War Updates #October 7 #Operation Swords of Iron #Hamas Massacre #Israel/HamasWar

[devilishchaos]

Shower | Jack Harlow imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Jack Harlow; Reader x PG

Summary: You pay a visit to Jack and the boys on tour

Warnings: Explicit smut, oral sex (m receiving), shower sex, protected vaginal penetration, Jack tries to be dominant 🤭, hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby girl", "babe", "baby", explicit talk

Word Count: 4 823 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Ugh..sixty days should not have felt so long. Especially with all the exams and volleyball matches happening. Even with the busyness, you texted the group chat all the time, your boys sharing stories that had happened to them while on tour. 

It was the night after you and your team had won the cup, that you got a text from Jack, one that was in a direct message just to you.

You felt a wave of relief at the exchange. He seemed okay. He had even typed a smiley face. Cute. Maybe both of you were really going to be more at ease when you reunite. 

The groupchat went crazy the following days. You texted every day until it was the 27th already and you were getting all your stuff packed for your very early flight. 

-

You lugged yourself back to the airport, only really realizing once you were there that Jack had upgraded you when he was booking the flight – something you'd scold him for later. But in the meantime, you figured you may as well enjoy the flight, maybe even try to get some sleep. He’d arranged for a driver to pick you up at the airport and bring you straight to the apartment he shared with his team members. It made most sense for you to stay there since there was always a free bed with the boys constantly coming and going.

It was late in the day when you got in, shuffling around the massive airport to find your way through customs and baggage. And you allowed yourself to feel a little special at least, when you walked down the ramp and searched through the sea of drivers holding up name cards, finding the one with yours on it and approaching him with a smile.

He took your luggage and carry-on bag and directed you out, politely asking how your flight was.

When you slid in, you felt a presence next to you indicating you were not alone in the back of the black SUV, you startled to a halt before closing the door, slightly turning and blinking at a very excited Jack that was seated in the seat next to yours. You smiled widely.

“Hi! Oh my god! Come here.” you yelped as you slid across the seats and snuggled up into his chest, his adorable laugh becoming music to your ears.

“Good surprise?”

“Oh my god, great surprise. Ahh, I’m so happy to see you.” you told him quickly before taking his cheeks in your hands and kissing him right on the mouth.

He laughed when you pulled back but that didn’t last long, you meeting his lips again, this time a bit more sensually unable to help yourself. You’d missed this closeness. Damn, you wanted him already and it had been less than a minute.

Snuggling up close to him, you allowed your mouths to move against each other for a bit, delicately tasting your tongue with his, before he pulled back, eyes looking down at the rest of you.

“Buckle up. But stay here.” he told you, his hand on your hips stopping you from sliding back to the side you’d gotten in.

You did so, smirking up at him, then let your hands wander over him, thumbs tracing over his gorgeous face and fingers getting lost in his wild hair. A little short on the sides and messy curls at the top of his head, slightly longer than the last time you'd seen him in person. 

He could tell you were eyeing him for a hot second, an eyebrow quirking up at you smugly.

“You look good. Too good.” You eyed him suspiciously. “How did you get sexier in a matter of two months?”

He let out a deep laugh, his arm coming around your shoulder, prompting you to cuddle up next to him, your hand finding its place on his thigh.

“So, you approve of the hair?”

“Very much so. You look gorgeous.” The breath that came out with the compliment was borderline embarrassing.

He wore black new balance sweats and a matching hoodie. Damn, he looked fucking good in all-black. What a snack.

“You just got off a 19-hour flight and still look this good so..I think I’m the lucky one.” he replied, his lips curling up as he eyed you sideways.

“Mm, I feel a little gross. I need a shower when we get to your place. Feel free to join if you’d like.” you added, letting your voice drop a little. The driver probably didn’t need to hear all of this.

He looked at you with a tilt to his head, a darkness falling over his eyes. “Fuck yes.” He started to smile. “Are you kidding me? As if I’m going to say no to that?” he played, his hand dipping inside your jacket to dig at your ribs softly, earning a laugh from you.

You pulled him into you again, taking whatever you could for now even though it wasn’t nearly enough.

His hand gripped onto your hoodie at your side and it wasn’t long before his fingers were slipping underneath all your layers to find your skin. His touch felt amazing against your skin, fingers lightly scratching down towards your hip, fiddling with the waistband of your sweats. 

“Can't wait to have you all to myself.” he whispered against your lips and you pulled back a bit to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?” you asked, letting the back of your knuckles caress his cheek, then down along his jaw, his trimmed beard slightly scratching against you.

“Yeah. But the boys can't wait to see you also so I might have to wait a little.” he said with a chuckle before planting another kiss on your lips. 

Surely, he was able to hear the shaky sigh you let out in his ear as you practically shuddered against him. Then you were moving to his neck, nipping at whatever skin you could see, trying to pull the top of his hoodie a little bit down and get more of his neck.

“God, how far away are we?” you complained pathetically and he laughed, turning his head to look out the window.

“Like another 15 minutes.”

You groaned, sitting back in your seat, his arm still around you, as he played lazily with your hair.

As the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, looking forward as the buildings flew past, your hand stayed on his thigh, squeezing it every once in a while as if to check if he was actually real.

When the car finally started to slow down, you looked out through the tinted windows, taking in the building that you assumed were staying in, as you got closer.

“So, who’s here right now?” you asked as you two stepped in the elevator.

“Just Urb and Cope but the others are coming over soon I think. We loaded up the fridge with food so we’ll probably all have a late dinner together.” he said as you stepped out on their floor, coming face to face with a large door, which he unlocked. “Are you hungry now? We can get you a snack.”

“Y/N?” you heard an echo through the space then the two men were coming into view from around the corner and rushing to you. Jack brought your carry-on in as Urban pulled you into a cozy hug.

“Urbyyy! I’m here.” you told him excitedly, the words getting lost in his shoulder. He slightly rocked you left to right before pulling back with a goofy grin.

“Come in, come in. Welcome to the PG cave.”

“Cave?” you said with a laugh, taking in the huge windows and super clean, modern style of the place. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

They showed you around the main floor consisting of the kitchen, living area, two bedrooms and bathrooms on either side.

“So, apparently I’ve been kicked out of my room so you’ll be in here.” Urban explained with a tap on the door frame of the bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Ooh, I get my own room? Fancy.” you said playfully, looking inside to see the king bed with your bag already on it. The room was really nice with its clean neutral colors and large windows on one side. 

"Ha ha. Bold of you to assume that you would get rid of us that easily. But no. Jack and I shared this room but now that you are here I am no longer wanted." 

“Where are you sleeping?” 

“I’ll go and do my thing. We’re never usually all here anyway.”

“Probably gonna go and hit the clubs so we will see what comes in our direction ” Cope added, hands in his pockets.

You flung yourself at him, realizing you hadn’t given him a proper hello. “Hi.” you squealed as you wrapped your arms around him, a smile plastered on your face.

He laughed at the force of your embrace, leaning back against the hallway wall as he hugged you. “Hi, Y/N. How was your flight?” 

“It was good.” At the memory of your flight, your voice changed slightly. “Too good. You mister were supposed to book me in economy!” you turned around and looked at Jack who was leaning against the kitchen counter watching you, scolding him. 

He just smirked at you, giving you a cheeky little head tilt. So damn cute, that you couldn’t actually be annoyed.

“I’m still paying you back.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

He raised his eyebrows, shrugging, voice all low and confident as he said “You can try all you want.”

“She’ll find a way.” Urban added in cheekily before laughing.

A little flustered at the insinuation, you stepped away from Cope to push against Urban's chest playfully but you were laughing too.

He just pushed back, immediately becoming a kid before your very eyes, face lighting up at you initiating the rough-housing. “Be nice.” he teased.

“You be nice.”

“No, you!”

“Okay, children, that’s enough.” Jack came in between you two, touching Urban on the shoulder and directing him back towards the kitchen.

He sent you a provoking look over your shoulder as he moved away, ready to fight; it just made you laugh and roll your eyes. Silly boy.

“We’re going to get started on some food. The others should be here soon. Wanna help?” he asked Jack as he passed him but he quickly shook his head.

“We both need a shower..I think.” He managed to get it out straight-faced but once the other two reacted, Urban smirking and Cope letting out a loud “Ha!", he quickly broke into his wide smile, ears turning pink. Wrapping himself around you, he hid his head in your neck as he walked you backwards into the room, letting go only once the two of you were hidden in his- your room.

By the time you’d set down your stuff and started to undress, Jack already had the hot water running, beginning to steam up the bathroom. And then his hands were on you, exploring your body from behind as he lifted your t-shirt straight off you.

You watched in the mirror as his neck craned down to be able to kiss along the top of your shoulder, fingers finding the waistband of your sweats and pulling them down without paying them any mind, his eyes closed, focused on leaving warm kisses on your skin.

Breath picking up, you angled your head away allowing him access to your neck as you shimmied your pants down your hips, not wanting to lose the contact even for a second. Then his hands were trailing up your sides onto your back to unhook your bra, dropping it onto the pile as well.

He barely had to do anything to turn you on – just looking at him in the car had been enough. But now, here, watching his tall figure standing behind you as he took you in, completely enraptured by kissing every inch that he could get to, you were so done for.

You stepped back to bring your bodies against each other, needing to feel more of him. 

“Jack..” you breathed out as you tilted your head back onto him. Letting your hips move in tiny circles against him, your hands wandering back and resting on his hips, holding him there to become the pole you were dancing against. “Baby..” Though quiet, there was a bit more of a whine in the word this time, telling him you needed more than just his lips.

“Mhm?” he sounded, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and holding it in one hand out of his way as he came up your neck and kissed along your jaw, using his grip to turn your head back towards him.

“Was sixty days not long enough for you?” You had meant it to tease him but it just came out desperate.

He chuckled as he let his other hand glide down the front of your body then let it dip between your legs with the lightest touch.

Immediately you opened them a little wider, hips pushing forward in need of his touch. You let out the quietest pained moan before you decided you needed to take matters into your own hands, turning around as he held onto your hair, trying not to tug too hard.

Right away, you were pulling his sweats down, pleased at the sight of a tent in his boxers and even more pleased once they were off as well, his perfectly thick cock hard and ready for you.

He may have been keeping his composure in the moment but he’d let it slip in the car how desperate he was for you. You could understand; you somehow still hadn’t had him inside of you to this point and you were dying for it.

But seeing him in this position..he was practically begging for your mouth.

You knelt in front of him, your hands on the front of his thighs. “Take your shirt off.” you ordered, not even looking up at him as you began kissing below his belly button on his happy trail, inching lower and lower with each wet kiss. Only once he was good and naked did you let your tongue slide over the side of his cock from base to tip, repeating it slowly on the other side, then underneath. The weight of him on your tongue, in your mouth..was so good, the way he twitched with each motion you made, restrained groans and sighs attempting to come out, only making you more wet by the second.

Finally, you took him in, allowing the saliva to accumulate to form a warm wet suction around him as you sunk down. The guttural groan he released made you smirk around him.

“Fuck, I love the sounds that you make.” you told him as you pulled off him for a moment before repeating the motion, this time taking him farther in and sucking a little harder as you pulled back up, twisting slightly around his cock and allowing your tongue to flick against the underside as you moved.

“Y/N.” he groaned, his hand gripping your hair tighter. “Stop. You’re gonna make me come too fast.”

Fuck, he sounded so goddamn hot. There was not a chance you were going to listen, bobbing up and down a few more times, making sure to do exactly what you knew got that reaction out of him before he was pulling your head back forcefully, pulling you up and aiming your face up at his stern one.

“What did I say?”

“You said to stop.” you told him keeping eye contact, not an ounce of timidness present.

“Why didn’t you?” He leant forward slightly, coming closer to you.

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“That’s not a very good answer.” He gave you a disapproving look though you didn’t believe it for a second.

You just bit your lip, smirking up at him.

“Get in the shower.” He released your hair with a touch of roughness before he helped you up, directing you to the shower door with a hand on your ass.

You did as he asked, wetting your body, as he fumbled around opening cabinets, you assumed in search of a condom.

“Now, are we being bratty? Or are we being good today?” he asked you when he returned, stepping inside the shower to join you.

Mmm, the eternal question. There really was no wrong answer.

“I like sucking your dick and I like making you come in my mouth. Does that make me good or bad?” you challenged with a smirk, stepping closer to him in the shower so that your breasts were pressed up against his chest and his cock was against your lower tummy.

He swallowed thickly. Then he was sliding his arms around your sides, down to cup your ass, pulling you harder against him. “I want to fuck you. And I can’t do that if you’re being greedy and taking only what you want.”

“You want to be inside me? Fill me up with your cock?” you taunted him, letting your voice become a little lower. Then, leaning closer, you whispered “Take whatever you want.”

With a low moan, he sunk his fingertips into the roundness of your ass, his nails digging in slightly, lips coming to the side of your neck to leave kisses, only for them to be immediately washed away by the water. 

“God, I want you so bad.” he muttered against your skin, the words sounding like curses, just loud enough for you to hear above the sounds of the shower. “Fucking missed you.” He kissed again before adding “We all did.”

You smirked at the correction, pulling back to see his face as you let your fingers slide through his wet locks. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm.” he hummed, looking you up and down as he slid his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Good to know I left a lasting impression.” You smirked at him, allowing your eyes to take him in similarly. He was so fucking handsome just standing there, pressed up against you, water dripping from his hair, down over his collar bones and strong shoulders. 

He chuckled as his hands adjusted their grip on you, moving you slightly so he was able to maneuver his length between your legs and slip his tip teasingly over your wetness, eyes cast down to watch his own motions. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t think I went a day without thinking about you.”

You were finding it difficult to focus on his words with the way the head of his dick was now rubbing way too lightly through your wet folds and making you ache for him.

“Jack..” you breathed in close to his ear, already begging, your cheeks warming at how easy it was for him to turn you to putty in his hands.

“Yes, baby?” he asked so sweetly, his cock suddenly pushing up against your sensitive bud harder, brushing side to side, causing tiny shocks of pleasure to run through you.

“I need you so bad.”

“Ah, my needy girl.” he admired and your heart skipped a little at the affectionate possessiveness of it.

You nodded into his neck, your leg lifting without much thought, toes perching onto the thin ledge at the side of the shower.

“I would drag this out more. But just this once..” he trailed off as he slowly pushed into you, one hand gripping firmly at your thigh to help lock you into place.

Together, you let out matching groans at the feeling of him stretching you open in the best way possible, your walls so tight around him despite how wet and ready you were for him. Yes, fuck. Finally.

You found his lips, simultaneously grabbing him tight around the hips to pull him closer, letting his cock bottom out inside you. It was a lot, maybe a touch too much, but fuck, did it feel amazing to have his perfect dick filling up every inch of you, any pain from him being too deep just adding to the sensation.

He let out a moan in your mouth before pulling back to look into your eyes. For a moment, he almost appeared concerned, his eyes big, brows slightly creased together, but that was quickly dashed, once he saw the lustful look in your eyes telling him he didn’t need to be too delicate.

“Shit..” he said shakily, letting the word draw out a bit, his gaze dropping down between you two to watch as he slowly withdrew before pushing again into the tight warmth between your legs. “Y/N you feel fucking amazing.” He clung onto you, using the hand not holding onto your thigh to hook over your shoulder, hand on the back of your neck, directing your foreheads to meet.

“Fuck, J..” you moaned in agreement with him. You knew he’d feel good but, good God. As he slowly began to pick up his pace, the delicious drag of him as he drove in and out making you wince in pleasure, you found yourself thinking that you never want to leave. The "cave", the shower, him.

Despite his broad shoulders blocking the direct path of the water, the steam that had filled the bathroom matched with the heat emanating from him and kept you perfectly warm. You couldn’t stop the moans from spilling out of you against his cheek and along the line of his jaw, against his lips and into his mouth when he’d open them to let out a groan at your tightening around him.

If you’d been thinking about the fact that Cope and Urban could possibly hear you, the thought went away quickly when he turned both of you, pressing your back flat up against the wall of the shower and taking the weight of your leg onto his arm so he could fuck into you harder, a deep grunt coming out each time he bottomed out inside.

“Mmh– Fucking me so good.” you praised, head falling back against the wall, exposing your throat to his hot kisses.

The words ‘oh my god’ probably fell from your mouth countless times, him feeling somehow bigger and harder as you continued. Holding tightly onto him with one hand, you let the other find your clit between your wet bodies to begin rubbing over it, your fingers getting smashed between your pelvises with each thrust. From the pace he was keeping now and his focused face, you could tell he was as close as you were.

“Jack..” you let out in a rushed breath “I’m close.”

“Baby, want you to come on my dick.” he gritted out into your neck.

“I’m gonna come on your dick.” you echoed, the husky quality of his voice working to edge you closer. “You gonna come for me too? Ahh– fuck.” Your eyes flew shut as he hit you just right. “Come for me, please, baby.” you mumbled, once, twice, three times. You could barely focus on what you were saying as he picked up his speed even more, fucking into you so good that you could hardly speak without a moan coming out between each word. 

“Gonna come for you.” He could barely get the words out either, his breathing laboured.

“Yes, please–” you squeaked out, your fingers rubbing so fast at your clit as you dangled on the edge of bliss. “Fuck, Jack.” you cursed as you felt your whole body clench.

“Fuck– fuck!” he swore, feeling you squeezing him and then he was coming, and you were coming, and nothing could’ve stopped the sounds that poured out, holding each other so tightly. It was a damn good thing that their "cave" was pretty big.

“Oh my goood.” you breathed out as you finally started to come down, your voice beginning to tremble along with your limbs.

With a few more curse words being uttered, he was still coming, his pelvis pushed so tightly to you that you felt like he was pressed right up against your cervix.

You tilted your head back against the shower wall, only now becoming aware of the hot water hitting your shoulder and how the tiles felt slightly cool against your arm as you moved it to the wall to stabilize yourself.

“Babe..” he hummed, a desperate wonder in his voice. His eyes were still closed when he lifted his head from your shoulder, chest still heaving. Finally, they fluttered open, letting you take in his fully lust-drunken state. Being responsible for him looking that fucked out was highly satisfying.

He quickly released your thigh as you began to move, slipping out of you as you placed your foot back to the ground. Still he kept you pinned to the wall, his lips finding yours in a slow yet intoxicating kiss. His hot tongue traced against yours lazily, much like how his hands were now slowly grazing up your sides, gentle and soft.

“Shit. I fucking love your body.” he told you once he’d disconnected your lips, fingers still caressing at the skin just below your breast.

“I fucking love yours.” you teased back, allowing your hands to drift over the ripples of his form. “I’ll wash yours, if you wash mine?” you suggested, moving the two of you slightly so that you could actually make use of the water, wetting the rest of your body to get rid of the grime left from your travels.

“I guess I can do that.” He gave you a cute smile before looking down to remove the condom, tying it tight and stepping out onto the mat momentarily to drop it in the bin.

Meanwhile, you soaped up your hands so you could begin to lather him once he was back inside, fully enjoying running your hands over every inch of his sculpted body.

-

Jack had left the room before you. After a few minutes of trying to make yourself look presentable, you made your appearance, quietly slipping out of the door and walking towards the kitchen. As soon as you heard Sunni’s voice, you moved a little faster through the archway, a wide smile pulling onto your face as you took him in, lounged sideways in an armchair with his legs thrown over one side.

“There she is.” Urban said brightly upon seeing you, pulling the attention of all the others as you approached. Cope and 2fo were in the kitchen while Jack sat the table in the middle and the others were scattered across the couches.

“Hi!” You were unsure where to go first but thankfully you didn’t have to decide as Sunni, Shloob and Ace Pro all got up to welcome you, coming at the same time to battle for an embrace between the three of them.

Sunni won his place first, pulling you to him and using his strength to lift and twirl you in a hug. “So happy you’re here!” he said as he placed you back down, only for you to be swallowed up by Shloob and Ace Pro at the same time before you could even respond.

Pulling them in close, you let yourself suffocate in their hold, your smile so wide it was practically painful. “God, I missed you guys so much.” you told them with a sigh as you all slowly loosened your grips but kept your arms around each other. “This feels so good.” With another squeeze, you leaned your head onto Shloob’s shoulder, making it clear that their affections were very much a big part of what you’d been missing.

“So good.” he agreed happily as he turned his head and kissed the top of your damp hair.

After a moment, you wriggled out of their grasp to move to the kitchen, approaching 2fo as he was fixing himself a plate. 

“Fooooo.” you whispered with a hint of a smirk on your lips and he gave you a tiny smile as he turned to you, putting down the dish and wiping his hand quickly on a towel on the counter.

His arms immediately wrapped around you as you pressed your face to his shoulder. Warm hands traced comfortingly across your back. 

“Your flight was ok?” Sunni asked, pulling your attention though 2fo didn’t move an inch. 

“It was good, yeah.” you told him from where you were locked in place.

“Had a nice shower too?” Ace Pro asked and you could already hear the smile in his voice before you even lifted your head to look towards the guys, finding him leant against the dining table, a mischievous grin on his lips.

Jack leaned over to smack him lightly on the shoulder, making his smile go wider as all of you chuckled.

“It was such a nice shower.” you exaggerated with a cocky nod.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fluff #pg

[greenbergwrites]

hello me again!! I absolutely loved seeing more of the possessive!stucky verse and if you could share the parts you have from them in modern day I would die of happiness 🫶🏽

Oh, I'm sorry, babe. I definitely saw your reblog/reply to that post and totally forgot to post the rest of what I have.

Here you go, the last of what I had written for the blood in my veins 'verse

It was going to be called learning to breathe again, which I thought was apt

----

If asked, Steve Rogers would say that the world ends on a dreary, snowy day in 1945 while he clings to the side of a train in the French Alps. It doesn’t begin again until 2014 when he stands under a bridge in Washington, D.C., surrounded by chaos and facing off with the world’s deadliest assassin.

It doesn’t matter that the world says, “who the hell is Bucky?”

It doesn’t matter that the world tries to kill him, just days later, on a helicarrier falling from the sky. It doesn’t matter that it’s his turn to fall or that he almost drowns.

The only thing that matters is his last sight before he goes into the water: familiar, beloved bright eyes staring at him in recognition.

Steve’s happy to die in that moment. It’s a good way to go if those eyes are the last thing he knows in this life.

*

The world - no, the entire fucking universe - pulls him out of the Potomac. Steve doesn’t remember it and there’s no proof of it but it’s irrelevant.

His name is Steve Rogers and if he’s in danger, Bucky Barnes is there.

That’s just the way things work.

*

“You don’t have to come,” Steve says, standing in a graveyard.

And he really doesn’t. Steve can do this on his own. He’s happy to do it on his own, if that’s what it takes. But Sam is one of the few people in this new world that he actually likes and he isn’t actually opposed to company.

“I know.” Sam smiles. “When do we start?”

*

They follow Bucky around the globe for months.

Most nights are spent in different beds, most weeks are spent in at least two different countries. Sometimes there’s a backtrack and sometimes they go to places Steve has never even heard of.

In all the time they spend chasing him, neither of them catch sight of a single hair on Bucky Barnes’ head.

With every dead end and every dropped lead, Sam frowns and glances at him nervously. No matter what this new century thinks of him, Steve isn’t clueless; he knows that Sam is looking for the cracks.

Sam, the good friend that he is, is waiting for Steve to fall apart. To breakdown with grief or frustration or whatever emotion is a normal response to a situation like this one. He’s waiting for anger and tears and despair and he doesn’t quite understand that none of that is coming. None of that will ever come.

Because Sam is a good friend but he’s only ever known Steve Rogers broken. He’s looking for cracks, has been since Steve woke up in the hospital after Project Insight fell and Bucky disappeared, because he doesn’t understand.

The cracks were already there and they’re finally starting to heal.

*

In the sixth month, Steve wakes up to a draft in his room. The window is open and the curtains billow in the breeze, bringing with it the scent of the sea. There’s no one in his room with him and everything appears untouched save for a scrap of paper taped to his shield.

It looks like it came from the bottom of a receipt and on the back of it are three words.

Go home, it says at the top in thick block letters. The word please is written underneath, smaller, like an afterthought.

The handwriting is both familiar and foreign and Steve smiles quietly to himself, caressing the note gently.

*

“So we’re just giving up?”

Surprisingly, Sam isn’t upset. He is, instead, bewildered and very, very curious. They’re sitting at a cafe in the airport, passing time until their flight boards. Steve bought the tickets before Sam ever opened his eyes that morning and despite what his friend might think, he feels happy with this decision.

It’s hard to explain why he’s smiling, so he hides it behind his coffee cup.

“It’s not giving up,” he says truthfully. “Bucky asked us to go.”

Sam tilts his head, considering Steve with appraising eyes. 

“It’s just not what I expected from you,” he says after a moment. “You’ve been acting very til the ends of the earth, if you know what I mean. Didn’t think you’d let him call the shots.”

Steve snorts. 

Bucky’s been calling the shots for as long as Steve’s needed him to.

*

They land in Washington, D.C. at night. The airport is still buzzing with activity but it’s quieter, different than it was the morning they left. Nobody glances at them twice as they loiter around baggage claim for their luggage and Steve is grateful; he’s too tired to put on his Captain America smile.

Just as the conveyor belt starts filling with new luggage, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out, he sees a text from an unknown number.

Thank you.

Warmth starts in his chest and spreads outwards, relaxing him just a little. He still feels tension throbbing inside of him, a cord that’s been stretching since 1945, but in that moment, it isn’t so unbearable.

Steve doesn’t bother replying - Bucky probably tossed the burner phone as soon as he pressed send - but he doesn’t delete the text message, either. Instead, he saves it to his phone, where he can look at it any time he needs.

“What is it?” Sam asks, making Steve look away from the words. He realizes he’s been staring at his phone for several minutes now; Sam’s already gotten their bags.

“Nothing,” Steve says with a smile. He pockets his phone again. “Just happy to be home.”

*

Life settles into a routine again. He and Sam run in the mornings, have breakfast in a cafe somewhere between Sam’s apartment and his. When the Avengers need him, which isn’t often, he helps out and when the remnants of SHIELD need him, which is more often, he helps them, too.

Natasha would be proud of how well he’s taking to the ways of her trade. He and Sam are soldiers first, good in a fight, but they learn the art of blending in; moving through a crowd without anyone ever remembering they were there. It’s new, this tactic. A freshly-bought pair of shoes that he hasn’t broken in yet but once he does, he has no doubt of the comfort they’ll provide.

It definitely makes their jobs easier, at any rate. 

There’s not a lot of big battles for Captain America anymore but there are more covert operations. Steve spends most of his time after coming back helping ex-SHIELD agents move through the city without being caught. There’s one last base in DC but its stretched too thin as is with half its agents gone and the other half focused on rebuilding. Besides, not everyone wants to stay with the organization that housed HYDRA for so many years.

So Steve does what he can. He sets up new safehouses, stashes money and weaponry all around the city, sets up a network of help for anyone who needs it.

It isn’t just their own government hunting down SHIELD and no matter what he thought when it still stood, he won’t leave these people to fend for themselves. Not when it’s partially his fault that they’re on the run at all.

He tells a SHIELD agent this when she asks and her eyes widen.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says and then blushes, like she just remembered who she was talking to. “You’re the reason we’re alive at all, Captain. A lot more people would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

It’s the Captain rather than the reassurance that Steve focuses on. His smile, when it comes, feels brittle. He doesn’t bother responding and instead, hands her a slip of paper.

“Only stay there for a night,” he says. “Burn the paper when you’ve memorized the address. Make sure to dye your hair and put on different clothes.”

She nods and then takes him by surprise, hugging him fiercely for just a moment before pulling back. Her face is an even darker shade of red but she ignores her own embarrassment, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. When she meets his gaze again, she is every bit the SHIELD agent instead of the scared civilian that had been in her place moments before.

“Thank you,” she says. “For everything.”

Steve shakes his head. “No need for thanks,” he tells her. It feels mechanical, wrong, when he puts a hand on her shoulder. He’s still not used to touching people or having them touch him. “You’ll be fine, Agent. Just keep moving.”

She smiles at him and then disappears into the crowd.

*

A month after they abandon the search for Bucky, the gifts start arriving. Trinkets from France, Germany, Italy, Russia. There’s at least one every month and always from a place they know has been hit by the Winter Soldier.

“This is weird, you know that, right?” Sam says one morning. He turns the tiny Eiffel Tower over in his hands as Steve flips through a brochure for the Louvre. “He’s not even trying to hide the fact that those hits are him.”

Steve shrugs. “Why should he? He’s hunting down HYDRA, same as the rest of us.”

He plucks the Tower from Sam’s hands, placing it and the brochure on a shelf with previous ones. Bucky’s gifts hold a place of honor in Steve’s home, proudly displayed in the living room where Steve can see them any time he wants to. Sam doesn’t know it but the scrap of receipt holding Bucky’s first note is tucked under the music box from Russia. When he’s alone, Steve pulls it out sometimes just to look at it; just to see that handwriting again.

“Steve,” Sam says. “He’s a mentally fragile assassin that just spent the last seventy years being tortured, brainwashed, and forced to kill for a scary secret cult. He needs time to heal, not more death.”

Sighing, Steve turns to face his friend. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s helping him heal?” He asks.

“Yes, I have, actually.” Sam shakes his head. “But that’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

Steve shrugs. “Lotta things in this world aren’t healthy, Sam,” he says. “Doesn’t mean people stop doing them.”

*

Bucky’s fifth gift and the first for that month - three months after Steve came home - is an expensive set of drawing pencils and three sketchbooks. It’s also the first gift to include a note.

I remembered this, it says. No signature.

Trembling fingers run lightly first over the note and then the gifts themselves. Steve lets a harsh breath, his eyes burning and his chest aching. He’s glad that he’s alone for this gift, that no one is there to see him shaking apart like this.

He opens the pencils slowly, reverently, and when he holds one in his hand, he feels a little more tension leak out of him. The rest of the day is spent ignoring the world in favor of drawing. His first few pictures are shaky, both from his own emotion and his unpracticed hand, but the more time he spends buried in his sketchbook - his sketchbook - the smoother things become.

His hand is cramping by the time the sun sets and his latest drawing has tear stains ruining his perfect lines and he feels, for the first time since 1945, like Steven Grant Rogers.

*

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Sam says when he sees the art littering Steve’s living room.

Steve snorts. “Just another thing the history books left out,” he replies, bitter.

That pitying expression is back on Sam’s face and Steve decides to ignore it in favor of getting the lines of Bucky’s face just right.

*

The gifts continue to come and Steve’s shelf becomes an entire bookcase of trinkets. The Avengers are called on to save the world from an artificial intelligence named Ultron. They barely make it out alive but somehow, they all do make it.

Natasha watches him closely after the battle. They’re all undressing in Stark’s version of a team locker room, unconcerned with things like nudity when they’re all too busy minding cuts and bruises.

“What is it?” Steve asks her when he’s tired of the stares.

“You’re different,” she says. Her mouth softens into her version of a smile. “You don’t try to make the sacrifice play anymore.”

She doesn’t ask, so he doesn’t tell her that he finally has something to live for again. He suspects she already knows, anyways.

*

It’s been almost a month since the last trinket when one of their safe houses is compromised. He and Sam arrive on the scene too late but miraculously, no one is dead. The two ex-agents that were staying there are sitting on the porch, wide-eyed and shaking. Sam kneels down in front of them with kind eyes and a soothing voice. Steve goes inside to check out the house.

Broken furniture litters multiple rooms, one of the beds is upended,  the toilet in the guest bathroom is split in two. One hell of a fight took place and it seemed to span the entire house. In the living room, there are bodies piled one on top of the other; unconscious not dead. The only thing surprising about this is that not all of them are part of the strike team that hit the house.

“He was here,” Sam says from behind him. He comes to stand shoulder to shoulder with Steve, staring down at the bodies. “The agents said he’s the only reason they’re still alive.”

Steve smirks at him. “Still think it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism?”

“Yes.” When Steve looks at him, Sam holds up his hands. “Hey, man, I’m the first to admit that I’m grateful. But this still isn’t healthy.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve gestures at the two plain-clothed people. “Did they say where these two came from?”

“Yeah, Barnes left ‘em.” He gives Steve an unimpressed look. “Said something about it being a present.”

Oh.

Steve smiles, looking away from Sam’s piercing gaze. His trinkets are getting bigger.

*

It takes a few hours to get the HYDRA operatives secured in the DC base and to elicit a promise for whatever information is gleaned from them. He doesn’t know if he trusts the agent who does the promising but Steve will come back if he needs to. At least two of the prisoners were specifically meant for him, anyways.

When he gets home, Steve finds a pile of crushed metal and wiring piled onto his coffee table. It takes him a moment to realize what they are but when he does, he smiles; they’re bugs from all around his apartment.

Next to them is a note that reads: out with the old.

The words are very specific. Bucky doesn’t do anything uncalculated and Steve is sure that’s truer now than it was during the war. He begins to search the apartment but doesn’t have to get very far before he’s proved right. On the bottom of the Eiffel Tower statue, there’s a listening device.

And where there’s one, there’s dozens.

Steve puts the statue back without removing the bug and relaxes a tiny, tiny bit more.

“In with the new,” he says quietly, warmed by the thought that Bucky will hear him.

#moodymelanist #greenberg replies #my fics #the blood in my veins

[rosewaterandivy]

6. a routine malaise

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, winter holidays (Christmas), poor groupchat etiquette, travel, Steve driving stick (🥵🥵🥵), drinking and drug use, Eddie meddling, Just Friends mention (yes, AGAIN), pining and yearning, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Damn, we really in it now, huh? Get ready for ignoring feelings and maladaptive coping mechanisms! Here’s 5.8K of Steve being a sweetie and Reader being... well... evasive. Let me know what you think; like and reblogs are appreciated, as always, enjoy! 💜

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Then, Winter Break, Christmas Eve, IND ➡️ SFO ➡️ MRY ➡️ Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA

You were going to kill Steve.

You’d arrived to the airport with absolutely no time to spare and had to book it through security (thank you, TSA Pre-Check) and then sprint to your gate. A special shout-out to your TSA agent who barked out a laugh after reading your ‘Dead Inside But Still Horny’ t-shirt when they made you take off your hoodie and place it in a bin to be screened. Never in your life had you related more to Eminem’s description of “palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy” than you did right now.

If you didn’t have some water soon, you’d be joining him in the vomit on the sweater portion of the song. Luckily, Steve threw you a water bottle before the mouth sweats could really set in. You gulped it down heartily and then chucked the plastic bottle at his head.

“Uncalled for,” he accused indignantly, ignoring your scowl and narrowed eyes. “We made it, didn’t we?”

“You had to carry me on the plane,” you point out, knowing it’s not one of your finer moments. 

He had to shift his backpack around to carry it on his chest and gave you a piggyback ride to your seats, much to your embarrassment. But in your defense, your legs were about to give out and it seemed to cheer up the holiday travelers on the plane as Steve apologized with nods and shrugs, as if to say ‘what can you do?’ accompanied by a charming smile.

As he slipped you into your row, you heard a woman in front of you say, “Well, if that isn’t the sweetest thing.” A nudge to her husband seated next to her to ask, “Richard, why didn’t you do that for me?” His responding chuckle was warm and bright.

You ducked down to situate yourself in the seat, buckling the seatbelt and settling in. Steve slid in next to you, taking the middle seat because he’s a heathen with no concept of personal space, and opened his backpack. You wondered what you’d do to pass the time for the nearly five-hour flight and were interrupted by Steve when he handed you a pair of Sony headphones.

“If this is part of your Christmas escapades, I will be terribly upset.”

He shrugged, nonchalant, “Santa said to give ‘em to you now, I’m just following orders here.”

You mumbled obscenities to yourself, mindful of the tiny ears on the plane while Steve laughed at you. After a few futile minutes attempting to pair your phone to the headphones, he took over. You glanced out of the window, watching as the ground crew loaded the cargo hold before take-off.

Steve, damn him, could never really warrant your prolonged anger– this trip was, by far, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. And you found it difficult to be mad at him for breaking the gift-giving rules, but, rest assured, he’d be getting a talking to later.

He passed your phone back to you and opted to test your headphones for you. Opening Spotify, you tapped on your Liked Songs playlist and scrolled until finding something acceptable. Steve’s bright smile at the opening notes of “Last Christmas” was worth it.

“Think that’ll do it,” he says with a wink, placing the headphones securely around your ears. 

You pause the song and reveal an ear, “What’ll you do?”

He digs through his bag again and pulls out his copy of Midnight in Chernobyl. You shudder at the thought of reading about such gruesome things as he opens the cover and thumbs at the pages. 

“Okay, enjoy that, comrade,” you joke, pulling the headphones to rest against your neck as you prepare to watch and listen to the flight attendant’s safety presentation. “What,” you ask to his raised brow and smirk, “One of us should be prepared.”

He huffs a laugh and winds his fingers between yours on the armrest, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Setting the book down to mark his page, open against his thigh, he scrolls through his phone, tapping out a missive or two.

“Oh shit,” you said, remembering the holiday plans with the group, “Shouldn’t we let Nance and them know we’re bailing?”

Steve smiles and hands you his phone. You quickly read through the loft groupchat.

👊fight club 👊

bucko 🤠: what, no goodbyes?

dumbass 🤘: no glove, no love stevie baby

steeb 🖕: you can both fuck off (derogatory)

bucko 🤠: [enter two clowns] 🤡🤡

nwa 🔪: he didn’t have time for goodbyes because he was late AS USUAL

steeb 🖕: sent an image [selfie of Steve carrying Trouble onto the plane, piggyback]

dumbass 🤘: damn, she looks straight wrecked homie 🥵

You scoffed and typed back a response to Eddie.

steeb 🖕: [looks out onto a sea of idiots] hell

bucko 🤠: don’t you mean hello?

nwa 🔪: that you trouble?

dumbass 🤘: babe, what the fuck is wrong with you

steeb 🖕: it all started back in ‘92, a calamity was a brewin’

nwa 🔪: love you babes, text us when you land 😘

steeb 🖕has liked this message

bucko 🤠: 😘😘😘 kisses for my bitches

steeb 🖕: bye nance & robs, love you lots! eds, swiggity swoot im comin for you 🔪🔪🔪

dumbass 🤘: god damnit

As it so happened, your trip was about seven hours, all told. After landing in San Francisco, you had to make a connecting flight and had a brief layover. Just long enough for Steve to run to a Peet’s Coffee and grab something for a snack before you boarded the next flight.

He returned with a cappuccino for you and some snacks from a news vendor. You took the cup gratefully and warmed your hands against the cardboard cup. Steve sipped from his own cup, taking the seat next to you in the terminal. 

“What’d you get?”

He shrugs, swallowing the coffee down, “The usual, an americano.”

“Ugh,” you scoff, “Boring.”

“Well, one of us needs to be awake.” 

You eye him suspiciously.

“This flight is about an hour and then we have to drive.” He rolls his neck, with a sigh, “Only like, twenty minutes, give or take with traffic.”

“Are you planning to murder me and dump my body into the Pacific?”

“What!?” he squawks, turning a few heads your way. “No, never. When did you get so paranoid?”

You sip daintily from the cup once more, “Born this way, take it up with my mother.”

He rolls his eyes and gets up to toss his empty cup into the recycling bin. “I will do no such thing, your mother is a gem.”

You elbow him in the side as he sits back down. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

They call for boarding not long after and you shuffle back onto another plane. The flight to Monterey is under an hour, not enough time to do much of anything but nap, really. Upon landing, Steve shoulders his backpack once more, hand extended behind him for you to hold as you disembark onto the tarmac and walk inside to collect your bags. 

You assure him that you know which bags to grab from the carousel before he leaves you to pickup the rental car. Grabbing your phone you let Nance know you’ve landed but still have no idea what Steve’s planning; she’s less than helpful in her response.

natty light 💯: nope, i’m not enabling you’re snooping

trouble 👁️👄👁️: whatever could you possibly mean? me, a snoop?

natty light 💯: yes, and the worst of them too.

trouble 👁️👄👁️: you’re no fun.

natty light 💯: babe, i love you. but for once in your life, could you let someone do something nice for you and just enjoy it?

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting.

Steve returns to your side as you spot the first of your luggage and then goes to get it himself. Less work for you, you suppose. 

The sun makes its final descent beneath the horizon as you walk to the parking lot. Steve’s looking for the numbered parking spot the concierge gave him, mumbling to himself.

“Oh, there it is!”

He jogs toward a white two-seater convertible, a Mazda MX-5, whatever the fuck that is, and seems pleased with himself. He loads your bags into the trunk and walks you over to the passenger side door, opening it for you. 

“Very gentlemanly of you,” you tease, sliding into the leather seat.

“Oh, be sure to tell my mom,” he smiles back at you, “She’ll be thrilled those etiquette classes were good for something.”

He shuts the door and crosses in front of the car before settling into the driver’s seat. Steve adjusts the rearview mirror and seat before pairing with the bluetooth and passing his phone off to you. 

“Did you already type in the directions?”

“Yeah, just pick something for the drive.”

You nod and settle on something from one of his numerous playlists. Preoccupied with the music selection, you don’t notice you’ve pulled out of the airport parking lot until Steve merges onto CA-1. Your attention drifts to the center console and gear shift, Steve’s hand resting there and shifting occasionally while his feet work the pedals.

“Throw back, huh? Feeling nostalgic?” he asks, changing lanes, commenting on the song rattling through the speakers. 

“I guess,” you say, distracted by his hand on the gearshift and concentration on the road. “Is this a manual?”

His brow raises in surprise, “Yeah, stick shift. Cars like this usually are.”

“Oh,” you lean back into the seat, turning to catch some scenery. “I didn’t know you could drive stick.”

He sighs, “Yeah, my dad insisted I learn how. But Hopper’s the one that taught me.”

“Really?”

His eyes flit to you briefly, before looking to the road again. “Yep,” he pops the percussive ‘p’ and smiles. “He was overseeing the driving program at the time, some zero hour bullshit that I hated since I had to get up at ass o’clock.”

“Huh,” you reply, lost in thought. “I guess that’s when Eddie started picking me up for school.” 

The song changes over to another old favorite, “Two Weeks” by Grizzly Bear as you take in the scenery. To your right, the Pacific Ocean laps against the California shoreline. It’s growing dark, but enough light remains for you to spy the crests of white foam as the waves crash against the shore. 

Steve handles the curves of the of PCH adeptly, and you’re only momentarily distracted by his hands moving over the wheel and gearshift. It stirs something uncomfortable in your abdomen, as if your stomach flipped or something. If you could cross your legs more, you would, you’re all too aware of the tightening in your thighs— thank god for opaque Lululemon leggings.

The rest of the drive passes, gorgeous scenery giving way to the parks and downtown of Carmel-by-the-Sea. Tiredness settles over you like a warm blanket, the exhaustion from the previous night’s insomnia on top of a travel day. You hope to sleep well tonight.

He turns onto a residential road and drives up hill, passing beautiful homes and gardens along the way. Must be making your way to the AirBnB. 

“Pretty sure my aunt and uncle have a place here,” you muse, “It’s a rental property of theirs, I think.”

Steve hums in agreement, so it must be something you mentioned before. He pulls into a driveway with a black S.U.V. and parks the car. 

“This is us,” he says turning toward you, fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel.

It’s a big house, too big for just the two of you, surely. Something from a storybook with a gate to the front garden and a Juliet balcony above the French doors at the entrance. You’re about to say how it’s too much, that there’s no reason the two of you need an entire house to yourselves when the one of the front doors opens and a head peeks out

“Merry Christmas you two!”

A gasp escapes the cavern of your chest, because that’s a voice you’d know anywhere. You barely make it out of the car to careen into your mother’s warm embrace, stifling tears as you go. She squeezes you tight, one arm wrapped around your back while the other cradles your head to her chest.

“Hi sweetie,” she sniffles, fingers tangling in your hair and bringing your forehead to rest against her own, “How’s my favorite daughter?”

You manage a laugh, pulling away to wipe the tears from your cheeks. At a loss for words, all you can get out is, “How?”

She responds with a slow smile, eyes landing on Steve with a subtle nod. “He planned the whole thing, swore us all to secrecy.”

And Steve, for his part, dutifully unloads the trunk like it’s just another day. Like he hasn’t planned the world’s greatest Christmas present for you. You listen as your mother chats about colluding with your best friend for the better part of a month as the two of them worked out dates and bookings.

He waves at the pair of you and lugs the bags up the cobblestone drive to the door.

Your mother tuts and tucks wayward strands of hair behind your ears. “Now honey,” she says, “You know we adore Steve…”

Blinking, you face her once more, knowing all too well what she’s getting at, “Yes, you’ve made that very clear mom.”

She smirks, “And you’re sure there’s nothing you’d like to share, just between us girls?”

Her laugh is infectious and drowns out your scoff as Steve stops at the entryway. “Already up to no good, I can tell.” He readjusts the strap of his backpack and gives your mom a hug with his free arm, “Hey mom, long time no see.”

She playfully smacks his chest, “You troublemaker, I saw you just last week.” She pulls him in for a hug and lays a kiss on his temple, “So, how did the surprise go?”

Steve looks to you with a raised brow, biting his bottom lip. “Uh, looks like she’s still in shock,” he says, “We should probably get her inside.”

Allowing yourself to be led inside, you walk in a daze behind your mother, Steve just a step behind you with the luggage. 

Your mother shouts that you’ve arrived, alerting your father and brother in the kitchen as they work on dinner. Your dad responds with his exuberant, “All right!” while your brother takes the steps down from the kitchen to give you a hug.

“Hey sis,” he says releasing you, “Pretty wild that Steve-o was able to pull this off, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” you parrot back, “Pretty wild.”

Your mother looks on in interest, curious eyes and pursed lips. Steve greets your brother with a handshake, turns to you with a mock-salute, and seemingly abandons you to your family.

Rude.

Steve takes your mom’s directions to locate the remaining bedroom for the pair of you. There’s only one bed, which seems to be par for the course at this point. He tosses the backpack on a nearby chair and leaves the luggage by the closet. 

Falling against the bed, he checks his phone for any missed messages. There’s the usual bullshit in the groupchat, Eddie rightfully fearing for his life after your threat. Followed by a text from Robin asking how he’s doing and a missed Facetime call from his mother.

With a sigh, he sits back up and calls her back. She picks up on the second ring, camera decidedly not on her face. “Ma,” he says, “You gotta hold the phone in front of your face, it’s not a phone call.”

“Oh.”

She maneuvers the camera to show her face, impeccably made up (as usual), as she sits in the hotel room waiting on his father for some event or another.

“So you made it to California?”

“Yeah, we just got to the house.” He scrubs a hand down his face, feeling more tired than he lets on. “I think she likes it?”

“Well, I would hope so,” she tuts, “You put an awful lot of work and money into this.”

“Ma–”

“No, no,” she sighs, “I know it’s yours to do with as you want, I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t,” he glowers.

“Now Steven,” she admonishes, “We like her, she’s a lovely girl and you both had a similar upbringing…”

He rolls his eyes as she begins the litany of why-aren’t-you-together-yet and cards a hand through his hair. 

It’s really none of her business, either way. And it’s pretty obvious that if Steve had his way, you’d have already been an item. But no, some asshole had to propose and then break your heart. He flexes his hand, mindful of his sore joints from the punch.

“And I know her mother has shown you the heirloom jewelry already and we have some exquisite pieces from your grandmothers as well—”

“Wait, what?”

His mother stops her prattling, brows raised. “Is this not a proposal trip?”

His eyes nearly pop out of his skull, “Fu–,” he clears his throat, “No, absolutely not. Mom, where did you even get that idea?”

She has enough sense to seem chastened, “Well, you were working on that ring for her, weren’t you?”

He swallows audibly. “Yes, that’s technically true…”

“And it’s not an engagement ring?”

“Uh, no.”

She scoffs and balks, “Well whatever could it be for if you’re not proposing?”

At this point, Steve’s father overhears and comes into frame. “Steven’s proposing?”

His mother turns to her husband, ignoring Steve, “To the neighbor girl, you remember her.”

“Oh, right,” his father adjusts his tie. “Are you sure about this, son?”

“I’m not–” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, “That’s not happening you guys.”

“Apologies,” his mother says, “Apparently he’s not proposing but has some ring for a Christmas present.”

“Could be mistaken for an engagement,” his father replies, “You’re giving her ring on Christmas, nearly twenty percent of engagements happen between Christmas and New Year’s.”

How the fuck would he even know that?

“Your father and I were engaged on New Year’s.”

“That’s right, dear, and it worked out perfectly fine for us.”

Steve sighs in frustration, falling back against the pillows, “D’you two want to continue this conversation by yourselves or…?”

“There’s no need to be touchy Steven,” his mother cautions, “We just wonder if this is the best time to gift her a ring if you’re not to be engaged.”

“If you’d let me explain,” he says in a measured tone, “I could clear up your misconceptions.”

“Fine, go on then.”

He takes a breath in and explains how the ring isn’t an engagement ring but a replica of your grandmother’s ring that you’d lost at sleep-away camp when you were thirteen. Apparently, your grandmother in her infinite wisdom had deemed thirteen a mature enough age to keep and wear fine jewelry. Despite keeping it in your duffle bag and not wearing it all during camp, it had been lost, and you were utterly devastated.

“Her grandmother passed late that summer,” Steve reminds his parents, “We went to the funeral that September.”

“Oh,” his mother breathes out, hand to her heart, “I had no idea…” she trails off, looking to Steve’s father to carry the conversation.

He clears his throat, “That’s a thoughtful gift, son. Just make sure she takes your meaning when opening it.”

Steve allows him a brief smile, “I don’t think that will be an issue, but thanks.”

They say their goodbyes not long after that and you call out that dinner is ready.

Dinner is a casual affair, curried salmon with an arugula salad courtesy of your mom and dad, Syrah and after dinner weed provided by your brother.

“Can always count on your brother for a decent joint,” Steve says passing it to you.

You take a pull, holding the joint just so between your fingers. Steve used to joke that you hold pretty much anything like a French woman holds a cigarette and you (unfortunately) have to agree.

As it turned out, there was one bed in your room but, it was a California king so there’ll be tons of space between you; not like the trip in November at all.

Your parents had graciously given the pair of you the primary suite with the Juliet balcony and views to the Pacific. Incidentally, this meant you had the luxury bathroom of the house with a jetted tub and ridiculously large shower.

Must be nice to have money.

“Steve,” you say after a while, relaxing just enough to lower your inhibitions, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He’s facing you, but only partially illuminated from the bedroom lights. An inkling of a smile graces his lips, “You deserve it y’know.” But what he wants to say is you deserve the world.

A soft laugh, “I don’t know about that,” you take another hit and pass it back to Steve, fingers brushing. “I would reign in your expectations for Christmas morning, pal.”

He takes a final drag before snuffing out the roach, eyes landing on you once again. “Really? I shouldn’t expect some gift that’s equal parts incredibly thoughtful and altogether ridiculous?”

“Okay,” you laugh. “If that’s what you’re anticipating, then you might be in the right ballpark.”

He pours another glass of the Syrah for you, the deep red hue swirling in the glass. He passes the wine glass to you, depositing it in your hand. You take a sip, savoring the notes of blackberry and tobacco. 

Steve pours himself a glass too, effectively killing the bottle and setting it down on a nearby table. “Damn,” he says, “Your brother dating that sommelier really paid off.”

You crack a smile, watching as he leans his forearms against the railing, glass in his hand. Rumpled and tired from a day’s travel, but still cutting a quite the figure in the soft glow of the moon. Unless that’s the wine… or weed talking.

Shit.

“Yeah,” you allow, “Though she wasn’t the biggest fan of my super-taster pallet.” 

“Did I know you were a super-taster?”

You shrug, “It’s my party trick. Good for those fancy dinner parties you drag me to.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, downing a swig of wine. “How so?”

“Well,” you begin, “When I met Vivian over the summer, she prepped a white wine tasting for us, which was super nice.” You lean against the railing, trying to recollect the moment. “So, we begin with the usual suspects, your Sauvignon Blancs, Viogniers, a Chenin Blanc, you know.”

“Oh yes, my extensive knowledge of summer wines,” he teases, “Please continue.” 

“Riiight, so no problems there– was on my best behavior and everything.” You pause to sip your wine, “But then, we get to the Pinot Grigio.”

“Gross.”

“I know!” you agree. “So, we sample that and she asks how it is, the usual stuff. And everyone goes around commenting on a few of the notes they’re able to discern, all well and good. That is, until she gets around to me.”

“Uh oh,” Steve says into his glass, seeing where your story is headed.

“Uh oh is right. Because when I take another sip and ponder the taste of the vintage, I correctly, mind you, identify a note of ... plastic pool toy.”

Steve spits out the remainder of his wine over the balcony and onto the flowers beneath him. “What?” he nearly shouts turning back to you, “P-plastic pool toy?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, “Like those cheap-o inflatable plastic balls in a net at Target.”

He fails to close his mouth, jaw agape. “How could you possibly know what those taste like?”

You shrug, “Pool volleyball,” and finish your drink. “Robs bought some earlier that summer and we had that stupid tournament at your parent’s place. Nance spiked the damn blue marbled ball into my face, so that’s how I know that Pinot Grigio tasted like plastic pool toy - with just a whisper of chlorine to round it out.”

Steve, gathering his senses, laughs softly, “And how did she take that?”

“Oh, Viv?” you say over your shoulder, making your way back inside for the night. “She agreed with me, after doing her own taste test, of course. My brother warned her of my tendencies before the trip, so she was well-prepared.”

“You’re something else.” He says, gathering the empty bottle and glasses from the balcony and shuts the door after him. 

You curtsy and turn to locate your luggage. 

Steve leans back against the door, setting the glasses and bottle on a side table, and observes as you dawdle throughout the room. Suitcase set down on a chair and unzipped hastily to reveal various packing cubes labelled by occasion in Nancy’s deft hand. You rise slowly, lips screwed to the side in perturbation and eyes narrowed.

You fix him with a look, “You and me, we’re fighting later.”

“Oh, sure,” is all he says, struggling to mask his smile.

You turn back to the task at hand, finding pajamas, because you are not repeating the last sleeping arrangement you had with Steve. Which amounted to stealing one of his shirts, sleeping in that and your underwear because you, frazzled as usual, failed to pack pajamas but had somehow stuffed three coats into your duffle bag.

And you know that Nancy, the perennial Girl Scout, won’t let you down. 

Digging until you find the ‘sleepwear’ cube, unhelpfully next to the one labelled ‘pjs’ in something that is definitely not Nance’s handiwork.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the mystery package and nearly drop the damn thing on the ground at the shock of its contents. Heat rising from your chest to neck, you make a garbled sound and Steve thinks it best to excuse himself for the moment. He tells you he’ll be back soon and goes to return the glasses to the kitchen. You nod dumbly, packing cube crushed to your chest until he closes the door.

In a panic, you pull the silk and lace from the zippered bag. And it’s not much better when you have all the items laid out in front of you, a risqué and skimpy picture of what someone called ‘pajamas.’ You inspect the handwriting on the cube once more to no avail. A scrap of paper falls out of as you throw it across the room.

‘Merry Christmas big boy! xxxx, Eds’

Finding your phone, you furiously type out a message.

trouble 👁️👄👁️: 🤜 this is my fist coming for your ass

bandcamp 👿: thanks for the heads up, plenty of time to prep!

trouble 👁️👄👁️: trouble sent an image [burgundy lingerie set and sheer robe]

you think you’re funny?

bandcamp 👿: hilarious, actually. surprised you’re breaking it out this soon though

trouble 👁️👄👁️: lsadhflksajd

bandcamp 👿 ‘liked’ this message

MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS

Hearing Steve in the hall, you drop your phone and stuff everything back into its packing cube before he can see anything, cursing Eddie the entire time.

You shove the incriminating the cube back into your suitcase just as Steve opens the door. He pauses and tilts his head to the left.

“Everything okay there?”

Because your elbow deep in the suitcase like you’re hiding something and have gone about ten different shades of red at this point. Your eyes grow wide when you realize Eddie’s note is still at large and currently residing somewhere in this room.

“Yeah, of course,” you grab the correct packing cube and toiletry bag before escaping to the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

“...okay.”

Steve’s phone pings as you start the shower, banging things down on the countertop aggressively. He’ll ask you about it later. He opens his phone to reply to Robin’s earlier message only to see something from Eddie.

Which is weird, because Eddie only texts Steve if he has to.

He opens the thread and reads.

dumbass 🤘: don’t say i never did anything for ya

dumbass 🤘has sent 2 images

[Image 1 a screenshot of a conversation between Eddie and Trouble]

[Image 2 a photo of a burgundy lingerie set and sheer robe]

Steve, taken aback, drops his phone in response.

Needless to say, the rest of the night went about as well as it could. Upon exiting the shower, you discover that the sleepwear in the packing cube is not, in fact, your own. Instead, it’s brand new with the tags still on for chrissake. Holding the offending garments in your hand, you secure your towel on your chest with your opposite hand and exit the steamy bathroom.

“Harrington” you say, jolting him from whatever he was doing on his phone. You wait for him to glance your way, and clear your throat when he does. “The fuck is this?”

“Uh,” he swallows audibly, “Pajamas?”

“No shit Sherlock,” you grouse, tossing them on his face, “But they’re not mine so the mystery continues.” 

Removing the shorts and shirt from his face, he runs his fingers against the material. “Nance tried to go to yours and grab some stuff,” he says by way of explanation, “But your ex was cagey and shitty with date and times for her to do so,” he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “And I just figured new stuff would be easier?”

“Oh,” you say, feeling mildly foolish. “That’s— I’m sorry about that, about him.”

“Hey, no,” he says getting up from the bed and walking toward you, “You don’t ever need to apologize for his asshole behavior.” 

He hands you the blue pajama set with white moons and stars with a soft smile, “They’re cute, right?”

You screw your mouth the side and narrow your eyes, “Yes, but that’s not the point, Daddy Morebucks.” You take the shirt and shorts from him with a huff, “I guess these will do, if you insist.”

“Oh, I do,” he replies with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. When you turn back to the bathroom, he eyes a scrap of paper under your side of the bed and picks it up.

He reads it with a sigh, fucking Eddie. And taps out a reply.

steeb 🖕: too soon, but well played. much appreciated

dumbass 🤘 ‘liked’ this message

dumbass 🤘: don’t fuck it up and wait too long

By the time Steve returns from his shower, he finds you snuggled down in bed singing to “Yule Shot Your Eye Out.”

“Guess we figured out the bluetooth then,” he says pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. 

“Don't come home for Christmas / you're the last thing I want to see,” you croon and hand him the remote.

He joins in with a “Merry Christmas, I could care less,” and cues up the movie for the night. 

You turn off the music. “Steve,” you say, turning on your side to face him, “Are those… leopards on your pajama pants?”

“Obviously.”

“Huh, okay. Just checking.”

The movie in question, which, awkwardly, is the Ryan Reynolds favorite Just Friends. But it was a tradition at this point, and who were you to buck off a time-honored classic such as this? A coward, that’s who.

Because you’re out like a light, and the irony is not lost on Steve when Chris Brander knocks on Jaimie’s door, in an attempt to explain this shitty behavior: “I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than nothing at all.”

He pauses the movie with a sigh, feeling incredibly called out, and hazards a glance at you before he kills the lights. And, sure enough, you’ve wrangled that dumbass pillow over your eyes like some hostage that’s had a bag thrown over their head.

You look adorable but insane; you insist on sleeping with it because it’s like a “hug for your brain,” whatever that means.

So, despite knowing he’ll be momentarily terrified waking up next to that particular sight tomorrow morning, Steve can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you and your family. He’s only a little worried about the rest of your gifts, and a mildly curious about the lingerie set from Eddie.

You jolt from a stupor with a gasp. The room has darkened, barely lit by the soft glow of the moon and stars. The blanket from your shoulders has slipped off some time ago, gathering to pool at your feet. Blinking sluggishly, you realize you’re no longer grasping for dear life at the edge of the bed.

Cypress and vetiver. Faint cool aftershave and the vital heartbeat of warm boy. Something heavy and warm draped over your previously cold shoulders.

Another dream.

Yet, it feels more corporeal than ever before and the drumming in your chest strikes a thrilled beat. Your hands wildly pat him up and down, drawing forth a dazed rousing at your antics. You don’t stop, though, running up his bare torso, the fingers tangling in the soft curls on his chest, skating to his strong jaw and chin. Then hair, those long chestnut strands lightly curled at the edges, grown a little longer and wild.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, honey.”

You bristle in disbelief, distracted by the realization with some embarrassment that you’ve been sleeping on top of him for who knows how long.  Stupid syllables stuck like gooey taffy in your mouth, welding your teeth together in a solid disappointment. 

“Y'alright?”

You nod, untangling yourself from him slowly and retreating back to your side of the bed. With a twist of his torso, Steve slips his palm beneath yours, touches each pad of his fingers to your own, bending each fingertip to graze you. 

His eyes search you intently, a little confused, a little relieved.

“I just–” you breathe out, words stuck in your throat. Unable to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

It’s a whisper in the night, soft and delicate falling from your lips.

“For this, for everything,” you continue breathlessly. 

‘Course, he thinks. I’d do anything to see you smile. Inside of him, an all too familiar weight, heavy with promise.

His selfish heart. His stupid, cowardly, guilty heart. His broken, broken heart. He doesn’t even care to gather it up this time. Or the next.

But it’s Steve’s mouth that opens, sides of his tongue already bent over his molars as he whispers a reply. “Anytime, doll.”

He runs his fingers in his hair, sweeping it away from his forehead, stifling a yawn, eyes your pretty, pretty mouth in a smile. Still dark out, some mysterious hour both too late and too early to be awake, and he couldn’t see you at all—blurred at the edges and wrapped in shadow— but he knew you well enough to know when you were smiling.

He imagines the plush curve of your mouth, how it pressed hot and heavy against his own. You slip away, back to the far side of the bed, hand falling from his. 

His misses your warmth, but turns over anyway. Knowing he’ll struggle to sleep with the chilled distance between your bodies. 

But, his heart is selfish and it always has been. Even now, when it thumps so noisily he’s certain you can hear it. Even now, when you’re tucked in, wonderful and warm, close enough to touch, to hold.

And Steve knows, just like he knew last night with the crush of your lips against him, he’d always–always want you, in whatever way you’d have him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #reader insert #stranger things #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[theladyofbloodshed]

Fake Dating AU - Part 2/3

This was nice. Nesta could manage this – a pool in the blistering heat with a book in her hand. It was the beach she did not like. The sand got everywhere. Sea salt made her hair dry and brittle. And she did not want to think about how many fish brushed past her legs.

Rather than rushing in at the last second, Nesta had opted for an earlier flight to the others since she was coming from further afield on a job. She’d finished her work up on the plane, so had a few hours of blissful silence. The others were coming much later. She knew because Feyre had asked if they wanted to travel to the airport together. That was code for Feyre needing backup managing Nyx on the lengthy flight. Whilst Nesta loved her nephew dearly, the idea of a squealing child soiling their diaper for hours beside her in a contained space did not spark any joy. Mom and dad could handle that one.

Nesta lay on a sun lounger beneath a tree that shaded everything except her legs. It was dangerous territory to get a tan two days before Elain’s wedding. She didn’t want tan lines or sun burn spoiling the photos as an everlasting memory of her pale skin being subjected to sunlight for once.

Deep into her book, a child splashed her foot. She ignored it until it happened again and again and again.

Forcing out a breath, Nesta forcibly pressed her book down beside her.

‘Do you mind?’

It wasn’t a child at all. Stood against the wall of the pool, with his forearms resting on the edge, a familiar face grinned at her. ‘I thought you were deliberately ignoring me.’

‘I was,’ Nesta sniped back.

Eris, Lucien’s eldest brother, gave her a crooked smile. ‘I thought you wanted a date for the wedding.’

‘No splashing and I’ll consider it.’

He hauled himself out of the pool and Nesta could admit that her eyes tracked the bare expanse of his chest and stomach. His body was lean, the shoulders beginning to freckle from the sun. There was something about hairy legs, slick with water, that also always drew Nesta’s attention too.

Eris pointed to the spare lounger beside her. ‘Do you mind if I move my things beside you?’

‘Sure.’

For a while, they caught up on the last few months. Eris remained a workaholic, just as she did, and his phone beeped constantly with pictures of his dogs who a generous friend was taking care of while he was at the wedding. She filled him in on her life which lasted all of two minutes. She hadn’t seen Feyre or Elain since the engagement party. Work remained hectic, taking her to every corner of the country, usually in quick succession. And that was about it.

‘Why didn’t you fly in with Lucien?’

‘He’s coming with Elain,’ explained Eris. A slight blush stole across his cheeks. ‘And my father wouldn’t be caught dead flying with the commoners so he chartered a private jet – and let’s just say I’m a little spoilt.’

'A private jet? Ugh. So spoilt. Where are your parents?’

Nesta craned her neck to sweep the various loungers for a number of red heads, but came up short.

‘He will probably burst into flame if he steps into sunlight,’ Eris said with a snort at his own joke. ‘My mother has taken him to a museum which he will also loathe. He’s already complained about the temperature. I almost think Lucien wanted it here in the hope that our father wouldn’t attend.’

For a while, Eris left Nesta to her book while he read his own. She opted for a grizzly horror whilst Eris read a philosophy book that was better suited for swatting mosquitoes. When the heat became too much, Eris leapt back into the pool and did a couple of lengths.

‘You are beginning to resemble a lobster,’ called Nesta.

His feet gave a splash as he dived under and swam back towards her. In another feat of muscle, he launched himself out of the water. Not surprising her, he shook his auburn hair like a dog.

‘Better not ruin the photos.’ A generous amount of sun cream was tipped into his hand then Eris went to work on slathering it over his body.

‘Lean forwards,’ murmured Nesta. She scooted to the edge of her lounger and rubbed the excess cream into his back where his arms couldn’t reach. ‘Turn.’

Eris did an exemplary job of keeping his amber eyes solely on her face – and no lower to her bikini top – while she gently smeared sun cream on his face. The skin on his nose was already pink.

‘Stay in the shade.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘Yes, unless you want to be glowing in the photos.’ She tapped the end of his nose.

Later on, when their stomachs began rumbling, they headed off together in pursuit of food. In the heat, Nesta wanted little more than a salad. When Eris wasn’t acting as her shield against man-child ex-boyfriends, he really was good company. Their conversation flowed easily around work and lack-of-hobbies.

‘I could do with another drink,’ she lamented, back by the pool.

She had drank what felt like gallons of water already that day since the first blast of heat when she stepped off the plane.

‘Ooh. That looks good.’ Nesta pointed to another table where a woman drank something colourful and icy from a tall, wiggly glass.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Eris.

‘No. Allow me. You paid for lunch.’

Eris swept his hand through the air as he made a short bow from his sun lounger. 

After many terrible hand gestures, lots of pointing and awful attempts at a foreign language, Nesta trotted back towards him, a glass in each hand. The colours were layered like a rainbow – and she was delighted to sit beside a man who could drink something that wasn’t beer.

‘You’re sure they’re not alcoholic?’

Nesta sniffed her drink. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’

‘You speak Spanish?’

‘No, I took the mocktail menu with me to the bar and pointed and made the shape of the glass. Nobody needs to hear me try and pronounce another language.’

The expression Eris wore suggested he didn’t wholly believe her.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you want me to get the bartender?’

‘Then I can use my terrible Spanish to ask? I trust you.’

Eris leaned forwards from his sun lounger to knock their glasses together. Nesta did the same.

‘To the happy couple,’ she said.

Oh, it was delicious. She sucked on the straw until she gave herself brain freeze from the ice which received no sympathy from Eris.

‘Can I ask a personal question, Nesta?’

‘I can’t promise I’ll answer it.’

‘Why don’t you drink?’

Her brows raised and her vision skimmed over the shimmering waves of the pool. ‘I guess when I first moved and got involved with Cassian, drink became the every day activity. I stopped doing things I enjoyed. Spent all my time with them. Wine went down easier and easier and sleep became harder and harder.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not against ever drinking again, but once I quit drinking with them, it quickly became apparent we had nothing in common. I don’t have any friends so the option is drinking alone or not.’

Eris nodded in understanding. ‘Same here. I’ll probably have a glass of champagne tomorrow, but I was a bit of a tearaway when I was younger. Drank too much and did a lot of silly things. There needs to be a good occasion for it and I’m better at knowing when I’ve had too much now.’

As the afternoon wore on, their conversation became freer and punctuated with giggles.

‘This definitely has alcohol in.’

'It's on the mocktail menu.'

Eris leaned over her to snatch up the menu. 'And on the cocktail menu. With tequila.'

Nesta sucked the last dregs from the bottom of her glass up the straw. ‘Oops. Sorry. Sincerely.’

‘I’m drinking with a friend. It’s a celebration,’ said Eris, giving an easy shrug of his shoulders.

She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I’m your friend? What an honour!’

Despite the realisation that their fruity, rainbow drinks were not mocktails, they continued to drink. The heat made it worse. The conversation shifted from playful to the realms of discussion that Nesta would never engage in sober. They spoke of ex-lovers, positions they enjoyed in the bedroom, fantasies – inhibitions well and truly out the window as they slurped down more.

Eris closed one eye as he squinted down at the display of his watch. ‘Our dearly beloved siblings should land soon.’

Fantastic, she thought. She’d face a grilling from Cassian about why she chose to drink with Eris, but not him. Morrigan would have something to say – and Rhys too because he couldn’t help himself but pass a comment on Nesta’s life.

‘Then I am going to bed,’ she declared. Nesta pushed off from the sunbed with legs like jelly then staggered a few steps.

Eris let out a soft laugh. ‘Any more staggering and you’d have ended up in the pool. Let’s get you some food.’

He was equally unsteady, but they managed to negotiate for food and make it into the lift. They crashed into each other in the corridor. Their hips and arms bumped as they walked in unsteady lines towards Eris’ room. They collapsed onto the bed to dig into whatever had been deep fried for their meal. She licked the grease off her fingers in between shovelling in mouthfuls; Eris ate with an equal lack of grace like one starved.

When they had finished their food, the television blared out and they remained sprawled together on the bed. A cool wind swept through the open balcony doors as the sun descended for the night. Nesta’s phone flashed a couple of times with messages from Elain then Feyre quizzing on her whereabouts. She replied that an early night was needed and she’d meet them in the morning.

With food in her stomach, Nesta felt a little more sober, but whilst Eris went to shower, she raided the minibar for anything salty that she could find. Eris returned when she had a mouthful of peanuts.

‘Share.’

 Nesta covered her mouth so she didn’t spray nuts across the room. ‘There’s chips too.’

‘Daddy dearest is paying the bill. Indulge.’

Nesta had never let herself loose like this, as though she had no manners. Eris didn’t seem to mind either. He was grinning from ear to ear as they sat on the bed, devouring any snack they could get their hands on. She fished in the cup of her bikini for a dropped peanut.

‘What a woman,’ purred Eris from the top of the bed where he languished with a towel around his waist.

She arched a brow. ‘Still want to be my date for this wedding?’

‘All other women are shadows compared to you, Nesta Archeron.’

Eris extended a hand to her which Nesta crawled towards. She collapsed beside him on the bed so their noses brushed. His hand cupped against her hip, drawing her another inch closer. Her fluttering heart made her giddy.

‘Kiss me, Nesta.’

Her chin raised until their lips met. There was nothing hesitant about it. The moment their lips slid over each other, Eris rolled Nesta on top of him. She felt his hardening length through the towel. Her tongue met his as their hands roved over each other’s bodies, hungry for every bare stretch of skin they could gain purchase on.

The string of her bikini was tugged loose so she peeled open the towel from his waist.

They moved down the bed, Nesta turning onto her back as Eris pulled away the last of her clothing.

‘That conversation earlier,’ he grinned. ‘I know every little thing you like.’

Her fingers wound through his auburn hair. ‘Then don’t you dare disappoint me.’

***

At the first slivers of amber light leaking through at dawn, Nesta unpeeled her limbs from Eris, gathered her clothing – a bikini, a sarong, and flip flops – then scurried out of his room.

Nobody was in the corridors, but she still had a strong sense of paranoia that somebody might catch her mid-scandal. It shouldn’t have been a scandal. Both were single and willing – and she certainly had a night like no other. Eris had definitely paid attention to what she had said over their cocktails. But this was not what Nesta Archeron did. She didn’t have one-night stands.

She threw herself into the shower, as if to wash away Eris’ scent from her body then stuck her phone into the charger and flopped onto the bed, hoping to catch a couple of hours sleep in the safety of her own room.

The knock from her sister came too sudden for Nesta, but wedding duties took priority. She tried her best to suppress the exhaustion from a long night being bent over by Elain’s future brother-in-law as she followed her sister down the corridor into her rooms. Not long later, Feyre arrived too in anticipation of a day spent together exploring before the wedding the next day.

Feyre let out a long yawn as she slumped in a chair.

‘Nyx?’ Elain asked over her shoulder at the vanity while she curled her hair.

‘I wish. For once, he slept. I don’t know how. Lucien said his oldest brother has the room next to us. I was ready to kill him last night. He was going at it all night with some floozy. The walls are so thin.’

At her spot by the window, Nesta froze. Heat crept into her cheeks. Oh no.

Elain giggled at Feyre’s admission. ‘The season of love.’

Feyre snorted. ‘It wasn’t love. It was like a pair of wild animals were banging against a wall. All night. At least do it in the bed so I don’t have to hear it.’

‘I forgot something in my room. Back in a moment.’

Nesta excused herself without waiting to hear their replies. Her face was scorching. Oh, this was awful. She really had to pick that man – and this wedding – to have her first ever one-night stand.

‘Hey, Ness.’

‘Oh, not you,’ she sighed in the hallway.

‘Miss you too.’

Cassian wore lurid pink shorts paired with a black vest. His unruly hair had been scraped back into a bun at the nape of his neck. She had forgotten how intimidating he could seem by the way he could loom over everybody.

‘Excuse me.’

Nesta tried to side-step him, but he blocked her pathway.

‘Listen, I thought we could talk. We don’t have to date but we can be friends.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

He wrung his hands together. ‘I miss you. I miss the old times.’

‘Old times? We were together six months. Look, Cassian, move. I don’t have time for this.’ She pinched her brow then barrelled past him.

This time, he let her go.

***

‘My goodness, how did you ever get your license?’

Nesta clung onto the door handle while Feyre braced herself in the back. Elain ignored her words because she was busy gritting her teeth as they rounded another sharp corner.

They had gone for a breakfast in a small town by the sea that had been recommended to them for its beauty. What the lady on the desk had neglected to tell them was that the idyllic little beachfront restaurant was at the end of one of the most difficult drives they had ever been on. The narrow, winding road was made up of sheer cliffs and dusty stones rolling into their path.

‘At least I have it,’ Elain finally said as the car rolled onto a fairly straight stretch of road.

Feyre made a disgruntled noise. ‘I’ll learn when Nyx is bigger.’

‘Nesta’s driving on the way back. You always say you are the best driver.’

She was, but not when her head was pounding from the amount of alcohol she’d downed yesterday.  In response, Nesta grimaced. The car juddered along the rocky path uneasily.

‘I hope we all make it to the wedding,’ quipped Elain as another large stone slipped down from the cliff and into their path that only a harsh stamp on the brake could protect them from.

The restaurant was utterly beautiful, though perhaps not worth nearly dying for. Elain had chosen a table directly in the blazing sunlight so Nesta was powerless to agree. What the bride wanted, she got. Even if Nesta was dying inside the longer she spent in the sun.

‘You look so pale, Nesta.’

‘I’m emotional my little sister is getting married,’ she lied. ‘Oo, chilled water. Hallelujah.’

Food was a challenge. For every nibble she took, Nesta glugged down an entire glass of lemon water to stop her stomach from lurching. Neither sister seemed to notice her struggling, or at least attributed it to the heat when Elain took the floppy sunhat off her own head and plonked into Nesta’s. Feyre prattled on about her son as if he was the first child in existence while Elain babbled about how many children she wanted to have. I’d quite like a nap, she thought.

Excitement came in the form of dolphins breaching the crystalline blue waters near the restaurant. Even Nesta rose from her seat to get a better look and snap a few pictures.

‘That was amazing!’

‘Oh, I wish Nyx had seen,’ lamented Feyre as she scrolled through her photos.

Nesta did the same to see if she had managed any half-decent shots. She swiped through, zooming occasionally. The images of the sea shifted to a bare body. Her bare body. Eris' knees and something else was in the shot. When the video started playing automatically, she locked her phone quicker than she had ever managed before.

‘What was that?’

Nesta blinked. ‘I must have taken a video in my pocket on the plane.’

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Not only did she decide to have a one-night stand with Eris – but they had filmed it too? The image of herself sprawled out on the bed, a big grin on her face, with Eris kneeling between her legs flashed back into her mind. A sex tape. This was bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.

‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ murmured Elain, brown eyes catching her own.

No, just myself about to get ploughed, she thought.

Fanning herself for good measure, Nesta said, ‘I’m not used to this heat.’

Their day was busy with exploring local shops and visiting tourist hotspots. She had never sweated so much in her life which couldn’t solely be blamed on the heat. Each time they stopped so that Elain could try on clothes, Nesta bought another bottle of water to hydrate herself which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Feyre.

‘How long until you belong to the sea witch?’

She choked on a mouthful of water. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’re acting like a mermaid out of water. I didn’t know a person could drink so much water,’ she added. A wicked smile curled Feyre’s lips. ‘If you’re looking for your true love, I’ll let Cass know.’

‘I’d rather drown than ever let him touch me again.’

Feyre pouted. ‘He’s not that bad. He really regrets what happened between you two. Cass was really sad that you’d already gone to bed yesterday.’

‘Feyre, let’s get this straight. I am sweating. My armpits are like a swamp. I am hungover as shit. I am here for Elain’s wedding – not to hook up with anybody. Furthermore, I literally do not give a crap about Cassian or his feelings.’

Her sister heard one part of that. ‘Who were you drinking with last night?’

She fought hard to give an air of carelessness as she shrugged. Elain chose that moment to emerge from the dressing room in a pretty, lavender sundress. They passed on their comments about how beautiful she looked then the curtains closed again.

In a whisper, Feyre said, ‘Were you drinking alone again?’

Again. Drinking alone was considered wrong, but drinking every single night with company was permissible.

‘Feyre, what I do is my business.’

‘That’s why you had an early night, isn’t it? Because you were drinking.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Her temper never did do well when provoked – especially not in the sun. ‘Yes, I was drinking Feyre. I had a lovely time by the pool drinking cocktails. Don’t be too jealous.’

#neris #fake dating au

[sleepdepravity]

in celebration of one of my sister's friends admiring my "gamer swag" (all the games i've played that are apparently obscure) i've decided arbitrarily to try to dredge up some obscure games to share with you all in case people are interested in that sort of thing. in terms of determining the obscurity of the game, i think i'm gonna go with less than 1000 reviews, and/or looking at all-time peak concurrent player stats in steam charts. whatever i feel like maybe. Also, if there are absolutely no guides on steam or the internet, then i guess that's for sure obscure.

also these are all games that i've finished. some of them i finished a long time ago so i may not remember much about like. quality. or how good they are. shrug. they're interesting though.

Mysteries

Aviary Attorney

Chicken Police

Blacksad: Under the Skin

A Case of Distrust

The Flower Collectors

The Forgotten City

Hitchhiker - A Mystery Game

I hope she's ok

Legal Dungeon

Lucifer Within Us

Paradise Killer

The Occupation

Observation

Root Letter

Sagebrush

The Shapeshifting Detective

Silicon Dreams

The Sinking City

Song of Farca

Visual/Sound Novel types (minimal gameplay)

Alone With You

428: Shibuya Scramble

Booth: A Dystopian Adventure

Divination

Elsinore

Necrobarista

Neo Cab

Overboard!

Signs of the Sojourner

Sorcery!

Unmemory

Adventure/Puzzle or whatever

A House of Many Doors

Battle Chef Brigade

Falcon Age

Genesis Noir

A Golden Wake

I Am Dead

Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective

Lemon Cake

looK INside

The Low Road

Maquette

Mind Scanners

Minute of Islands

Mu Complex

Nobodies

Omensight

Pilgrims

Roadwarden

Robot Island

Rumu

Senna and the Forest

Sizeable

Small Radios Big Televisions

The Solitaire Conspiracy

Song of the Deep

The Spirit and the Mouse

Still There

Summer Paws

Teacup

Tick Tock Isle

Vane

The Wake: Mourning Father, Mourning Mother

Windbound

Windowsill

Yono and the Celestial Elephants

Four Last Things

FixFox

Walk around a cool place and pick stuff up

Heaven's Vault

Deliver Us the Moon

An Airport for Aliens Currently Run by Dogs

Beasts of Maravilla Island

Draugen

Eastshade

event[0]

Ghost on the Shore

Haven Park

In Other Waters

The Magic Circle

Mail Time

Mu Cartographer

Paper Beast

Paradise Marsh

Penko Park

Here Comes Niko!

Sea of Solitude

Summer in Mara

Time on Frog Island

TIMEframe

Train Station Renovation

Horror

The Horror of Salazar House

Moons of Madness

Subway Midnight

#malky plays games #there's a lot more than i thought...uh...anyways... #maybe i'll write more about like. the individual games later. i'm just tossing these out there for now #basically these are games that i remember standing out to me maybe?? #i dunno. #obscure game recs

[trains-boy]

I like the idea of Atsushi gently holding akus coat but just imagine

- Him not wanting to touch it out of fear that his claws might rip it

- Him hiding it in his closet before going out to fight because he doesn't want to risk the last he has of Akutagawa being taken

- Keeping it in Anne's room

- Him telling someone to destroy it because he doesn't want to be in denial of Akutagawa being dead

- Him losing it at sea (I can imagine it's hard to swim with an overcoat on)

- His claws actually ripping it (Accidentally)

- Him losing it in the airport

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #sskk #shin soukoku #atsushi nakajima

[mariacallous]

It’s been hard recently to think about anything other than the wars and humanitarian crises raging around the world. Climate change has left its mark in what was almost certainly the hottest year in human history—there were unprecedented heat waves, intensified forest fires, torrential rain, and floods like those in Libya that caused devastation after two dams burst.

But this has not stopped scientists, innovators, and decisionmakers from working on solutions to our biggest societal challenges—with success. Here is a collection of uplifting news to come out of 2023.

A powerful laser veered lightning strikes off their path

In an instant, millions of volts can damage buildings, spark fires, and harm people—unless the lightning can be redirected. An experiment with a laser beam suggests this is possible. The scientists behind it must now demonstrate that their multimillion-dollar laser would actually work better at critical sites such as airports and rocket launchpads than widely used, cheap lightning rods. Read more at Science.

Asteroid rocks and dust were brought to Earth

The first US mission to collect an asteroid sample, OSIRIS-REx, successfully returned a capsule containing granules and dust from the asteroid Bennu. Early analyses back at NASA’s lab suggest the sample is rich in carbon and water-laden minerals, the building blocks of life on Earth. Read more at WIRED.

Scientists grew mouse embryos for the first time ever in space

What would make humans a truly spacefaring species? If we could reproduce and grow outside of Earth’s atmosphere. It may be that this is possible, an experiment with mice suggests. Scientists managed to grow mouse embryos aboard the International Space Station and return them safely to Earth. Their initial growth appeared to be unaffected by the low gravity and high radiation. Read more at New Scientist.

A rare egg-laying mammal was rediscovered after decades

A species with the spines of a hedgehog, the snout of an anteater, and the feet of a mole seems hard to miss. But the long-beaked echidna Zaglossus attenboroughi—named after British naturalist David Attenborough—had remained hidden until caught on camera for the first time since it was scientifically recorded in 1961. This egg-laying mammal is known to only live in the Cyclops Mountains in the Indonesian province of Papua. Read more at Mongabay.

Countries signed a landmark treaty to protect the high seas

After almost 20 years of negotiations, members of the United Nations agreed to protect marine life in international waters—the two-thirds of the world’s oceans that lie outside of national boundaries. This legal framework enables, for example, the creation of vast marine protected areas (MPAs). It also states that “genetic resources,” such as materials from animals and plants discovered for use in pharmaceuticals or foods, should benefit society as a whole. Read more at The Guardian.

California national park bounces back after wildfire

Two years after California’s largest single wildfire burned almost 70 percent of Lassen Volcanic National Park, the ecosystem remains viable. Shrubs and grasses are growing in burned areas while fungi and insects are decomposing dead tree trunks, leading to a slow recovery. Read more at The Guardian.

Brazil’s top court rules for Indigenous rights in landmark case

A powerful agribusiness lobby tried to place time limits on Indigenous peoples’ right to land. They would have to prove they lived on the land in 1988, when Brazil’s current constitution was ratified. But many Indigenous peoples were expelled from their ancestral lands during the country’s military dictatorship, which lasted from from the 1960s to the 1980s. The Supreme Court in Brazil squashed the proposed time limit for land claims. Read more at AP News.

There could be a large reserve of hydrogen deep beneath the French ground

Hydrogen could power factories, trucks, ships, and airplanes in the future—but producing it requires a lot of energy and is expensive. But the gas also occurs naturally deep in the Earth’s crust, and researchers in France have accidentally stumbled on a potentially large deposit. Next year they plan to begin drilling to collect gas samples from depths of up to 1.8 miles. Read more at the Conversation.

The world may have crossed a solar power tipping point

A new study suggests that solar is on track to become the main source of the world’s energy by 2050—even without more ambitious climate policies being introduced. Renewables are already cheaper than fossil fuels. But in the case of solar energy, obstacles such as integration into electricity grids and financing in developing countries still need to be overcome in order for it to continue to grow as it has in recent years. Read more at the Conversation.

A new type of geothermal power plant is making the internet a little greener

A pilot plant is now helping to power Google data centers in Nevada by harnessing the Earth’s heat deep beneath it. Engineers drilled two boreholes down 7,000 feet, and then connected them by fracking, a technique that’s conventionally used in the oil and gas industry. Water sent down one borehole moves through the fracked rocks below and returns to the surface heated up via the other drilled hole. Read more at WIRED.

World’s first container ship powered by methanol completed its maiden voyage

Laura Maersk, the world’s first methanol-fueled ship, arrived in England in September—a milestone for the shipping industry, which is responsible for about 3 percent of worldwide emissions and struggling to decarbonize. Methanol can be made from food waste at landfills. Read more at the BBC.

A cheap and effective vaccine against malaria got approval

There’s now a second malaria jab that could be produced even quicker than the first and rolled out to more children. It got the thumbs up from the World Health Organization in October, two years after the first one. Malaria is the leading cause of death among children in sub-Saharan Africa. Read more at Stat News.

The largest study of migraine sufferers promises new treatment pathways

In the largest genetic study of migraines to date, researchers have identified more than three times the number of genetic risk factors previously known. This will help to better understand the biological basis of migraines and their subtypes and could speed up the search for new treatments. Read more at Science Daily.

Scientists made breakthrough in cervical cancer treatment

In a UK trial of 500 women, half received existing, cheap drugs before standard radiotherapy. The results showed that with the combined therapy, women’s risk of death or relapse fell by 35 percent. According to the researchers, this is the biggest improvement in treating this disease in over 20 years. Read more in the Independent.

Gene therapy showed early promise for children

Scientists in China reported that some children who were born deaf could hear after a gene therapy trial. Meanwhile, experiments are underway in the USA and France aimed at children with a rare form of genetic deafness. Read more at WIRED.

An implant restored walking ability for Parkinson’s patient

A man with advanced Parkinson’s disease can walk several miles again thanks to a special implant. Positioned in the lumbar region of the spinal cord, the implant sends electrical signals to his leg muscles. The scientists behind the innovation plan to carry out further trials with other patients in the coming year. Read more at SWI swissinfo.ch.

DeepMind’s new AI can predict whether a genetic mutation is likely to cause disease

Researchers at DeepMind, Google's AI company, have trained an AI model to detect DNA mutations, which could speed up the diagnosis of rare diseases. Similar to language models like ChatGPT, this model knows the sequences of amino acids in proteins and can detect anomalies. Read more at WIRED.

AI-powered prediction helped Chileans evacuate from floods

A forecasting tool from Google can predict floods in South America and other regions using a little data on the water flow of rivers, with impressive accuracy. This August, many people in Chile were able to evacuate safely and with their belongings thanks to a warning sent out two days before the flooding. Read more at Fast Company.

The Hollywood actors’ and writers’ battle against AI ended—for now

Generative AI has made it to Hollywood, and after months of strikes, both the writers and actors unions managed to negotiate guardrails on how the technology can be used in film and TV projects. AI cannot, for example, be used to write or rewrite scripts, and studios are not allowed to use scripts to train AI models without the writers’ permission. Read more at WIRED.

Lego bricks are teaching kids Braille

The iconic studs on the Lego bricks allow them to be stacked on top of each other. And now you can learn a new language while you’re at it. The company has started selling bricks with modified amounts of studs that teach the Braille alphabet. The corresponding letter or number represented by a brick’s studs are printed on each brick so that children can learn the code. Read more at TechCrunch.

[lotrefcp]

Hidden Away

Hello guys. So, this is my first fic in the last 13 years, and the first one ever in english, so I´m sorry. And don't understand a lot about tumblr and its rules about explaining the but I will try.

I hope you like it and, if that's the case, I hope you may share it with your friends since I'm new here and no one is following me. :P

pairing/AU: Javier Peña x female!reader

summary: When the DEU fails to catch Escobar you are sent to Bogotá to help the team.

warnings: I don't understand this so just gonna say mature content, 18+

word count: 2700+

Chapter 1

The sun was setting over the sea of clouds that followed your gaze, thinking about what you were leaving behind and what was waiting for you at your travel destination. On your lap three dossiers; one about the Escobar chase situation and the other two about your new partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña. You knew that the better prepared you were for what you were going to find, the better it would be, especially because you would get yourself in a partnership that was already formed for some time. You didn't believe that either of them would be happy with a new person entering their relationship, you knew that neither of them had asked for it. But the American Embassy in Bogotá was increasingly desperate to put an end to this all situation of defeat, before the eyes of Colombia, its own citizens and the entira world and, in their minds, the more heads thinking and hands shooting the better .

The files on each of them showed that you would be part of the DEA's most effective partnership, with a great capacity for success, albeit not always using the proper methods. It wasn't a problem for you. After 8 years working in New York fighting the spread of the drug problem, you knew that, most of the time, rules just got in the way. Especially when seeing a body on the floor of any street corner, another drug addict dead from an overdose, no longer had the same impact on you as it did at the beginning of your career. Seeing a body no longer shocked you like it used to and your light expression as an inexperienced agent had died little by little over the years, in another kind of overdose; that of meaningless death and constant blood on your hands. You hide it within yourself. Your real self, no one knew but you. To your colleagues, you were an effective and perceptive agent, who smiled at everyone and who messed with everyone, always flirting and having friendly banters. That was your method of dealing with work, joking and pushing conversations to the limit, back and forth with jokes and insults that were cheeky and, at the same time, affectionate.

Despite not seeing it in your file, you already knew about the fame of Javier Peña, the playboy of the division, because of the receptionists who had returned to the United States after the months spent at the embassy. They had all passed through his hands and they could all hardly keep silent about it, comparing experiences and complaining that they no longer had him at their disposal. Anyway, as soon as he was professional with you there would be no problem. You put the files in your briefcase and looked out the window again until you fell asleep, trying to watch time pass and noticing the moon that was now replacing the sun that had blinded you a little while ago.

You woke up suddenly to the airport approach warning and lazily rubbed your eyes and fastened your seat belt for landing. After several problems with security and airport administration, you left the building and got into a taxi that took you directly to the embassy. Still with your bags in hand, you went through the reception and headed to Messina's office to report to  service and to find out about everything that was necessary. All eyes followed you on the small path you walked, but there were two specific pairs that ducked as soon as they saw you, continuing their work while showing frustration with your presence.

“Is that the one?” Peña asked Murphy.

“Yes it is,” he replied. “I saw her picture in her file.”

"I hope she won't get in the way and let us do our jobs like a good girl."

“I don't think so. For what that I read she is an agent of action. She led a few dozen operations in New York and it doesn't seem to me that she came here to sit at a desk and do whatever we say”, he clarified. “At least she's competent. Let´s just see if she gets used to us and to Medellín's rhythm.”

“And to our system. I don't want to get in trouble over a rat reporting everything we do to Messina. We don't need any more trouble.”

“You don't need to worry about that.”, you said suddenly causing Javier to quickly straighten up in his chair, like a child caught doing something bad. “I am loyal to my partners and, like you, I am here with a simple mission; put an end to Escobar and his business. How are we going to get it? Let's see what it takes.”, you continued. Your face was relaxed but serious, with a posture that commanded respect. The two agents rose to greet you and held out their hands.

“Stephen Murphy.” said the first one you greeted.

“Y/N.”, you replied still waving your hand. You turned to the other side and stretched out your hand again to shake the hand of the other agent who had risen.

“Javier Peña.”, he replied without responding to your attempted greeting and leaving your hand in the air, unaccompanied.

You lowered your hand and continued “I can see that.”

“What do you mean by that?” Javier asked as he and Murphy sat down again. You put your folder on the desk next to theirs and answered.

"Narcissism."

“What?” said Peña.

“I read your file. Both to be honest. But yours had something very interesting, great for yourself but bad for our work. Clear signs of narcissism and difficulty working with others. It shouldn't have been difficult for our profiler to notice those characteristics in you.”, you continued with a smirk on your lips.

Murphy laughed heartily. “I always told you that you didn't deceive anyone. It's not because you fucked half the city that someone will believe you want to know of anyone else besides yourself.”

“Hey, shut up about that.”, Peña said nervously. “And I didn't fuck half the city,” he continued without much conviction.

“Don't worry Peña, I'm not offended by that.”, you said with a small smile. “Your fame spreads beyond the borders of Colombia.”, you ended while laughing.

"What do you mean by that?"

“You know that your secretaries go back to the United States when they leave here. And those girls don’t know how to shut up.”

“Really?”, he asked while straightening the belt of his pants in a sign of vanity. “And what did you think of what they said about me?”, he continued trying to get an embarrassed reaction from you.

“I thought you were a creep. It's just that they really are girls. How old are you? Can't you get a woman? Just inexperienced girls who easily fell at your feet?” You approached him and continued lower. “Do you know that one of them was a virgin? She won't shut up about how you were her first and only man. Poor thing."

“What?”, he couldn't hide his surprise.

"You didn’t know? Did she not tell you?”

"Of course not. Who was it?"

“And you didn't realize? Well, you really understand a lot about women.”

"Hmmmm?"

“You didn't worry about her while you fucked her, you only cared about what you needed from her, otherwise you would definitely notice. There's the narcissism again. Even at sex?”

“Hey, I'm a very generous lover. You can ask anyone you want.”

"Generous? Or selfish?”

"What do you mean?"

“You are saying that you are a generous lover why? Because do you make sure they have an orgasm?”

“Several, darling,” he said proudly.

"Several. Very well, congratulations. But do you make them come because you think of their pleasure or because listening to them helps you come? Because you like knowing you can do whatever you want with them?”

“Hmmm?” again, it was the only thing he managed to get out.

“You got caught.”, Murphy said turning to you afterwards. “Thank you, thank you for being able to shut him up. And for throwing it in his face. I already adore you. We have to arrange some conversations to update you on his life so that you can study him more easily”, he continued while laughing and winking at you.

“Don't even think about it,” Javier replied, irritated. “And you,” he said, pointing at you, “don't think you know me.”, he continued. “But if you want to know me the right way, my door is always.”, he ended up with a smirk on his face as he licked his lower lip.

“Your door may be open but my legs are not.”

Murphy laughed again and clapped his hands together, all twisted in on himself with laughter. Javier narrowed his eyes and continued to look at you with the same smile.

“Well, I'm going to get my bags and I'm going to settle in my apartment. I hope we're all together. We're going to have so much fun.”, you said as you got up from the chair you were sat on and smiled at them with the most forced smile you could create. “See you tomorrow.”, and so you walked away.

Javier looked back to follow you to where you had your things and then when you walked past him again towards the exit door. Only then did he realize the curves of your body and how the hem of your blazer reached the very beginning of the curvature of your ass, making it even more prominent.

Steve noticed her greedy look and only said two words before going back to work, "You're fucked." Peña just leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and a smile on his lips.

You got out of the cab and looked at the building's facade, a simple looking apartment block, all gray and without balconies. “That’s too bad.”, you thought to yourself. You always took advantage of the balcony of your house to decompress a little at the end of each day of work, looking at the sky and feeling the breeze in your arms. Not that there was much wind or fresh air here. You could already feel your blouse stuck to your back with the sweat running down your skin and, as soon as you entered your apartment, you put down your bags and took off the jacket that bothered you so much. “Damn it. How hot.”, you thought to yourself as you went to the window to open it. “It doesn't make much difference, but it always takes away the musty smell that is here.”

And so you started opening up your things and tidying up the place to make it feel a little more like your home away from home. When you finished it was already getting dark and you just wanted to throw yourself on the couch and just get up the next day but you quickly remembered that you had nothing in the kitchen and that you needed to go shopping. And, getting your keys and your small bag, you left and closed the door behind you in search of a market near you. It was night when you arrived with two full shopping bags. You opened the building door with difficulty and started to climb the two flights of stairs to your door when you started to hear something in the distance. "What the hell. What is this noise?” And with each new step you began to understand what you were hearing. “I can't believe it.”, you said out loud while laughing. You continued to climb and entered your house, placing the bags on the kitchen counter and paying more attention to the sound to be absolutely sure. “It really is him.” You laughed again and waited for the right moment. You looked around and grabbed the first thing you found, heading out the door. You waited a few more seconds with your ear to the door of the apartment next door. And then you knocked on the door with all the strength you could muster at the moment, trying to stop laughing.

Javier was with one of his whores at home, on her knees and hands and with his penis going in and out of her ass, while he moaned. “You have such a nice ass. Do you like my dick?” he asked the woman on all fours.

“Yes, I do,” she replied.

“Tell me how much you like it. Is it big?” he continued.

“Yes, yes, it's huge. Please come on my ass.”

“Seriously, is that what do you want?

“Yes, please.”

"OK." And so his movements began to accelerate. When he started moaning more deeply he said “I'm coming. I'm almost there, I'm almost there...”

The knocking on the door of his house startled him and took him completely out of the moment. Who knocks so hard at this hour?

"I can’t believe it." He said still clinging to the hips of the woman tied to him.

“So?” asked the prostitute. “You’re done already?”

“I'll be right back. Wait there quietly. Do not get up." He got out of her, got up and, wrapping a towel around his waist, headed for his door ready to start screaming. He opened the door ready to start when he saw you with a big smile on your face and hands behind your back.

“You?”, he asked dropping his hands along his body, dropping the towel they were holding.

“Hey, big boy.”

“What?”, asked Peña who hadn't realized that the towel had fallen and that he was naked in front of you. He quickly bent down and picked up the towel, wrapping it around his waist again. "What are you doing here?"

“It seems like we really are neighbors. I heard some voices and it sounded like yours and I thought; What kind of neighbor am I if I don't go there and give him a little gift to show him how happy I am to have him as a companion on the same floor. And then I heard you moaning and I thought you were in some kind of pain. That's why I came here to see if you were okay and to give you this”, you said as you held out your hands towards him, trying with all your might to silence the laugh that was forming in your throat.

“What is that?”, asked Javier when he saw what you were holding out towards him?

“Uhhh?”, you too had to look down to see what you had taken before leaving the house. "This? It's... a... sugar packet. To show you how sweet I am.” The laugh getting closer of getting the best of you.

"Are you mocking me? You interrupted me to give me a packet of sugar?, he was purple with rage.

“I interrupted you? What were you doing?”, you asked trying to look inside.

“Don't make a fool of yourself. You heard me moaning and you thought it was because I was in pain? Seriously?"

"It was not? Oh, don't tell me you're accompanied. I’m so ashamed.”, you laughed softly as you put your hand on your forehead and looked at the ground, very innocently. “I'm sorry, I didn't understand. But hey, keep the sugar for your breakfast tomorrow. Yours and your friend. I mean, does she stay until breakfast or do you have to pay more for that?” The laugh finally won and you couldn't contain yourself any longer.

He couldn't stand his nerves anymore and slammed the door.

“See you tomorrow neighbor. Have fun. And I'm sorry again.”, you continued to laugh and finally entered your house, going to rest.

“So, I'm waiting for you.”, said the prostitute, still on all fours.

“What?, asked Javi still stunned.

"You’re not coming?"

"Go away. I have nothing left today.” He said knowing that the stress and the nerves he was feeling wouldn't let him do anything else that night. She left, getting dressed in a hurry, and he dropped onto the sofa, with only the towel on his body, and your laughter in his mind. "I can't believe she did this to me." And he ended up laughing too. “This is going to be great, I can bet.”

#pedro pascal #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #narcos

[moneymasnn]

Can you write something Where y/n has a fear of plane and mason wants to take her on vacation

Hold my hand| Mason Mount

Notes: (2.6k words) I wrote this really randomly within the last couple of hours so it might be kinda shit but im trying to work my way thought old requests!! I also kinda have a fear of planes so I thought this was cute! Requests are open if anyone has any ideas for a mason fic. Enjoy xoxoxoxo

Blurb: One where you have a fear of planes, but with your boyfriend wanting to take you on holiday, he convinces to by promising he will hold your hand.

Warnings: Mild swearing, some small hints to smut, just mason being a dirty minded boy

“But it's Greece y/nnnnn.”

Mason, your boyfriend exhales a long breath, your laptop strapped to his hip as he backs you into a corner in the kitchen.

“Think about the sun and the sea and me.” His lips lift into a smirk but it doesn't take long for the smile to fade when he realizes you're having none on it.

“The planes like three hours long, so we can watch endgame the whole flight.” His eyebrows are raised but still no word from your lips.

“Think about all the cute insta worthy pictures i'll take of you.” This however, mason notices the small crease in your eyes.

“It's not that I don't want to mason, I really want to. I just can't get on that jumbo death thing.” Mason furrs his eyebrows at your silly little nickname, he was about to argue his point more until you wiggled out of his grip, ducking under his arm and making way to the fridge.

Mason sighs, placing the laptop on the kitchen counter as he walks behind you, peering over your shoulder to also inspect what was in the fridge.

But before you could change the conversation and ask him if he wanted to order take out, a shrek left your lips when he had placed his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him.

“I wanna take my girlfriend on holiday.”

You sympathize with him, you want to go on holiday too. But you know you won't be able to put one step on a plane. The fear started when you were little, you had always been deathly afraid. You didn't go on many holidays as a child so it's not like you had ever gotten used to getting on a plane everyone once and a while. When you were eighteen and supposed to go on your first girls holiday you couldn't do it, you stormed off the plane like an idiot, crying as you watched your friends take off on the runway.

That tragic incident was when you were eighteen, you were now twenty three. And you still haven't attempted it.

“What about sleeping tablets?”

“No.”

“Boat?”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I hold your hand?”

“Mas-.”

“I'll protect you. Nothing bad will happen I swear.”He cares, he really does care. “And if the plane crashes you won't even have time to hate me because you'll be dead.” He shrugs, way to ruin the moment mase.

“I want you to at least try.”

“I just can’t mason, you have no idea how much I want to go on holiday with you.”

“Then try. Try for me.” He pleads.

You throw your head back, tears starting to fill your eyes as mason immediately wraps his arm around your shoulder worried if he's pushed you too far.

“I'm sorry mase.” You gently try into his shoulder, your fists clinging to a handful of his jumper.

“It's okay, it's okay. I'm not mad that you're scared y/n, everyone has fears, but you could at least try.” He pulls away from your puffy eyes.

“I want to, mase. I'm just scared I'll embarrass myself in front of your family.”

Mason gently places a kiss to your forehead before pulling away.

“Let me book the tickets, come with us, and if you get on the plane and change your mind i'll walk straight off the plane with you y/n.”

“I don't know if i can-'' You hated disappointing him but i couldn't help it, the idea of sitting on a plane sent shivers up your spine.

“I know you can, I'll be with you every second of the way. And even if you get to the airport and realize you can't do it i wont be mad, i'll be proud that you tried.”

“Okay.” You mumble, with a small sniff.

“Okay?” He repeats, a small smile on his face as you watch his eyes light up.

“Okay, I'll come to Greece with you.” You say with a small smile.

Mason's arms immediately go to your waist as he lifts you into the air.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You giggle as he places you down back to the ground, his hands on your cheeks as he houses every inch of your face.

“Oh we're going to have the best time ever! I promise you won't regret this.”

 He says in between kissing you before he finally places his lips on your, his hand slipping down your neck so he can pull you close.

“I love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “I need to call mum, she's going to be so happy!” 

And with that he sprints down the hallway, his phone glued to his ear as he starts to call his mum.

You just stood in the same position he left you in, your eyes grazing to the still open laptop with the booking flights still pulled up. You really hoped you wouldn't end up backing out.

There's nothing like the sound of an alarm ringing at 4am. The suns coming up and the birds are chirping. The sort of calm sleepy morning that should make you want to crawl back under the covers. But not when you're going on holiday.

Such a bittersweet feeling, walking around in your joggers and a jumper, drinking cocktails at 7am. Time doesn't really apply in an airport.

“Morning baby.” Mason rolls over, firmly placing his body on yours as his hand comes down to squeeze your hips.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Not at all.

“Excited?”

“Totaly.” yeah that one didnt sound as convincing.

Mason laughs as he gently sucks the inside of your neck and then up to under your ear. 

He pulls back to look at your face, he can't hide his smile as he brushes some hair out of your forehead.

“Just remember, you're not being held captive y/n. If you really feel like you can't do this just say-”

“I can do this.” You can't do this. Not one bit, but you're scared if he carries on telling you you can change your mind you might actually change it.

“Let's go to Greece baby!” Mason smirks, pulling you up by your arm dragging you to the shower.

After a quick shower you chuck on some black shorts and a crop top but place masons hoodie over to the top. It was cold in England in the morning but you wanted your outfit to be comfortable and flexible so when you landed in Greece you wouldn't be hot.

There was a shallow knock on the door, mason was still in the bathroom so you pulled it open to see his mother standing in the hallway.

“Morning y/n dear.”

“Morning.” You whisper back, although everyone else that had stayed over last night was probably already up and getting ready. 

Mason's family stayed the night so we could all travel to the airport quicker in the morning, instead of them having to drive all the way from Portsmouth at three am.

“Was just wanting to see if you wanted tea? Or a coffee.” She smiles, she could sense the nerves coming off you from last night, she only wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

“A glass of wine maybe?” You joke, she laughs with you before flashing one of her usually motherly smiles at you. “Could I have a tea please, I'm sure mason will have one too.”

“Is he up?” She peers her head over your shoulder as mason comes up behind you.

“I'm up mum.”

“Good we leave in half an hour darling. Oh y/n please make sure he's packed everything, he forgot his passport last year.” she tuts at him before laughing and dashing back down the stairs.

He smiles as you turn to face him, “You forgot your passport?”

“In my defense I left it on the kitchen counter, not like I forgot to pack it.” He shrugs, walking back into the bathroom.

You were about to close the door when you heard the quietest of pitter patters running to your door.

“Aunty y/n/n are you awake!” You smile as summer comes colliding with the door, pushing it open as wide as he can, running onto your arms.

“Morning sunny!” You coo at her.

“Morning!” She smiles at you, but her smile fades when she notices the french plait in your hair. “Can you do that to my hair?” She pouts at you.

“Of course go get the hair brush from uncle mase, he's in the bathroom.” You smile at her, putting her down as he runs into the bathroom, she immediately returns with the hairbrush and a hair band, sitting on the end of your bed quietly as you brush through her hair.

“Aunty y/n/n? Uncle massey said you don't like planes, whyyyy?” She asked you as she plays with the corner of the blanket under her legs.

“I just find them a bit scary, but don't worry you'll be fine.” You didn't want to make her scared either, since she was a child.

“I'm not scared. I'm a big girl.”

“Oh really?” You smile at her, tying the band around the end of her hair and putting in some hairspray for her so it holds in.

She smiles as she jumps on the bed then into your arms, “You can sit next to me aunty y/n/n if you get scared. I can hold your hand!” She smiles at you, but you didn't have time to answer her when she was running out of your room after being called by her dad.

“See, if summer can do it you can do it.” Mason smiles, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Shut up.” You giggle at him.

“I'm proud of you, thank you for trying.”

You inhale a deep breath, kissing the red patch on his nose before pulling away to grab your bag.

You went down stairs in the kitchen to drink the tea Debbie had made you before you all piled into the taxi ready to take you to the airport.

Mason noticed how unusually quiet you were in the car, but a silent grab of your fingers in his as he places a quick kiss to the back of your hand was surprising enough to calm your nerves for most of the car ride.

When you got there you placed your bags through security, you decided to take a walk in duty free, buying a book to hopefully keep you distracted on the journey.

“I hope you're not planning on reading a book instead of watching Endgame with me?” Mason smiled, his head placed on your shoulder as he peers over at the blurb of the book you were about to buy.

You buy the book holding it in one hand as your other hand is firmly grasped in masons. The family makes way to the small gate, all ready to board the jet.

You expected the nerves to kick in right about now, right when you show your passport and your boarding pass but nope. Just excitement, excitement to spend the next two weeks with your boyfriend and his family.

You notice masons gaze never leave you as you walk down the tunnel and outside to the steps on the unusually small plane.

You hated that it had to be a jet and not a plane.

“Do you want a window or the outside seat?” mason asks you.

“The outer one.” You didn't want to be by the window and be constantly reminded that you were flying through the sky.

You had made it on the plane and into the seat, that in itself was an achievement 

Once everyone was seated and ready on the plane you faced the front, you hand gripping masons as he places a slight kiss to your temple.

“Ready?”

“Not really.”

“Want to get off?” He asks.

“Nope.”

Mason smiled at your answer, “Do I need to get summer to hold your hand?”

You smile up at him, “I like it when you hold it.” you smirk at him, mason takes the chance to peek over his shoulder, most of his family were in conversation so he turns back to you with a smirk before leaning into your ear.

“Want to know what I'm thinking about?”

“One hundred different escape plans to get off this plane?” You look up at him but he just smiles and bites his lip, only then do you realize his intention.

“More like a hundred different ways I can make you moan in the toilet.” His lips purse up in a smirk as he subtly lifts his hips to adjust the uncomfortableness of his hard on rubbing against his joggers.

“Behave.” You slap his chest, but you cant help but break out in laughter at his stupid little actions.

“Y/n.” He asks quietly. “Not to like worry you or anything, but the planes kinda getting ready for taking off.”

You peer over him out the window to notice the plane had been moving and now was firmly settled on the runway. You had been so busy talking to mason you didn't even feel the plane start to move.

The plane starts to move up the runway as you scrabble to hold masons hand again. He smiles down at you before placing another kiss to your head, leaning back in his seat.

“Are you okay aunty y/n/n?!” Summer shouts from a few rows behind you.

You hear mason giggle next to you as you turn to smile at the little girl, promising her you were okay.

As the plane starts to take off in the air, mason's hand never leaves yours, neither does his lips with an occasional kiss to your head, cheek and temple.

“Y/n. You need to let go, I need a wee.” Mason sympathetically says. Waving your sweaty and connected hands in the air, you hadn't let go of him for the last twenty minutes.

“Unless you wanna come with me?” His brow cocks up again as you release his hand.

“You're like a horny teenager.” You scowl at him.

“What can I say? You're just too gorgeous to resist.” He smiles, placing a kiss to your lips before he runs down the aisle as quick as he can to the toilet.

You take the time of masons diserparance to roll over into his seat, deciding to look out the window, the sun was coming up and the sunset looked beautiful. You pulled your phone out to take a picture before summer came running over, crawling onto your lap.

“Are you still scared?”

“Not one bit.” You smile at her, brushing back a few hairs that were too short and had fallen out of her plait.

“Did uncle massey hold your hand?” She questions.

“He did.” You smile at her before noticing mason's presence as he towers over you.

“Not fair you took my seat.” He pouts, before sitting down. 

Summer runs back off to her nan and mason gently taps your shoulder, pulling you out of your gaze from the window. 

“I got you something.” Her smile, throwing a packet of m&ms onto your lap. “Thank you so much for getting over your fear for me. I'm about to make this the best week of your life.”

You smile up at him, connecting your lips in what you intentions were, a quick kiss.

Mason pushes his face into yours, his hand connecting with your cheek as the other one finds its way up your jumper to caress the naked skin on your waist.

He pushes his luck by sliding his tongue along yours, you were about to back away when you were interrupted.

“There are children on board!” Lewis shouts at the both of you, causing mason to giggle into your mouth before pecking your soft lips again and pulling away.

“Mase? I love you more.”

#mason mount #mason mount fic #chelsea #england nt #footballer imagine #chelsea fc #football #footballer x reader #mason mount fluff #footballer blurb #footballer fluff #ben chilwell #footballer #Chelsea fc #England nt #footballer fanfiction #mason mount x reader

[girlactionfigure]

*ISRAEL REALTIME* - "Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime"

▪️CORRECTION & UPDATE - MEITAR not MITAR, previous report on school vandalized was in Meitar, near Be’er Sheva, not Mitar, near Netanya.  Two women from Hora who work at the school are suspected and were arrested by police. 

▪️HOSTAGE BABY KFIR TURNS ONE.. where is he?  Is he alive?  Why are we delivering aid and medicines with no proof of life or return?

▪️JORDAN ATTACKS INTO SYRIA.. The Jordanian Air Force attacked targets identified with drug dealers and border smugglers again tonight in southern Syria.  According to reports from Syrian opposition sources, there are about 10 dead as a result of the Jordanian attacks in Syria. Most of them are women and children.

▪️IRAN TRAINED GAZA SNIPERS.. A Shabak investigation of a terrorist showed that Palestinian Islamic Jihad terrorists from Gaza were trained on Iranian soil to be snipers.

▪️HAMAS CONDEMNS U.S… The senior member Hamas, Abu Zohri, condemned the classification of the Houthi rebels in Yemen as a terrorist organization by the Biden administration.

🚨 RED SEA-Houthis Front 

 ▪️HOUTHIS CLAIM.. The military spokesman of the Houthis:  As part of the response to the American-British attack against us, we launched several missiles at the American ship Genco Picardy in the Gulf of Aden. Target hits were achieved.  An Indian Navy ship in the Gulf of Aden responded to a distress call from a ship flying the flag of the Marshall Islands that was attacked by a drone.​​​​ The ship that was attacked in the Gulf of Aden is the MV Ginko Picardi and it flies the flag of the Marshall Islands.

 ▪️US / UK ATTACK HOUTHIS.. fourth attack by the Americans and the British against the Houthis in Yemen, targets were attacked early in the morning in Sana'a, Tez, Bicha'a, Hudaydah, Damar and Zada.

🚨 REGIONAL War 

▪️PAKISTAN ATTACKS IRAN.. the Pakistani army attacked 7 targets, some of them near the bases of the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, in the Sawaran region of southeastern Iran.   According to its statement, Pakistan attacked "terrorist bases" of “terrorist organizations” in the Sistan region of Balochistan.  Pakistan: “We fully respect the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Iran.”

(( Noting that Pakistan has a very large military, is at constant conflict with India, has nuclear weapons, and buys and is trained on American weaponry including F-16’s. ))

▪️CONFLICTING REPORTS OF US EVACUATING OR REINFORCING SYRIA BASES.. one report states US moved an additional 1,500 troops to Syrian ‘anti-ISIS’ bases.  Another report (Arab media) says “US forces have evacuated the Hemo base in Syria, which is west of the city of Qamishli in Al-Hasakah countryside, after it came under multiple attacks by the Islamic Resistance in Iraq.  The forces have reportedly moved to the Tal Baydar base West of Al-Hasakah.  It is considered one of the US occupation forces' most vital bases, as it is close to Qamishli airport and contains a training camp for the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF).”  

🔶 GAZA-HAMAS Front 

▪️Air and artillery strikes by our forces in the area of ​​Jabalia and Sheikh Radwan in the Gaza Strip.  The IDF left these areas, the residents began to return, and the terrorists along with them.

🔶 JUDEA-SAMARIA Front 

▪️NOOR-SHAMS, firefight, security forces are demolishing terrorist houses in the El Manashia neighborhood, for the 2nd day.  During the activity, terrorists throwing IED’s at the troops and using IED’s on vehicles.

#Israel #October 7 #Hamas Massacre #Iron Sword #Realtime Updates