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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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Hii! I've a request. Could you make a one-shot about Ghost having a foreign gf and hearing her talk in het native language on the phone or something and he is kind of impressed or something like that:) (srry for my bad English)

Thank you in advance and have a great day!!:D

Complete | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: i wrote this with a shot of malibu and i am now three hours into my shift, let’s fuck around and find out. (thanks for the request, it’s so cute.)

warnings: OOC!Ghost (obvi, i’m writing him so he’s always OOC), Fem!Reader (was requested), cussing, mentions of sex

It was cold in England, rain hit his windshield so hard that Ghost could hear it over the radio. He contemplated pulling over until it got better, but the temptation of sleeping in his own bed with his girlfriend curled into his chest was the only thing on his mind. That and the fact that he wanted to empty a clip into Makarov’s head.

He pulled his beat up truck into his driveway, his fingers tingled with the small thought of her - a smile and a quip that would put him on his knees. He put it into park, opening the door and jumping out. Rain immediately drenched him and he knew that she would scold him like a dog, but he wouldn’t care; just as long as he can hear her voice, he would do anything.

He pulled his dufflebag from the backseat, slamming the door before jogging towards his house. There were lights on inside, he could see it through the window even with the curtains closed. He fumbled in his jacket for his keys, pulling them out and quickly shoving the silver key into the lock. He pushed the door open as soon as it was unlocked, ripping his key out and stepping into his home, out of the rain. He stomped his boots against the mat, kicking off the mud and rain but also trying to alert you to his presence.

He put his dufflebag on the floor next to the mat, he bent down and began to unlace them.

He heard your voice before he saw you. He looked up from unlacing his right boot to see you, in a black robe with your phone pressed to your ear. Your smile was perfect, eyes wide with surprise as you moved the phone from your ear. You dashed forwards and held out your hand, to which he promptly took it in his own. He pressed a masked kiss to the back of your hand, you mouthed, “Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Little Bird.”

You fluttered like a bird just like he had said, bouncing on the balls of your feet and wiggling your shoulders a little as you responded to the person on the phone with a quick quip in your native tongue.

If Ghost could ever listen to one thing for the rest of his life, it would be you speaking in a language he’s not familiar with - any of them that you knew, being a translator in a historical society and college. He sat there, both boots unlaced and kneeled on the front door mat, holding your hand and watching her as you had a lively and quick conversation in a tongue he almost never hears anymore. It saddened a small part of him, it was truly a sight to behold when you were able to speak with anyone who knew the language. You would light up like a star and babble on and on, he couldn’t make sense of any of the syllables but that never mattered to him.

He watched you with awe in his eyes, all of the stress from the last handful of weeks he’d been without you had disappeared completely. And it was only a few more moments of you saying goodbyes and it was gone, his heart sort of dropped. He hated that you never spoke it with him when he was home.

You threw your phone in your robe pocket as soon as you ended the call, your now free hand reached for the bottom of his rain soaked mask. He nodded in approval, you were quick to pull it off and crash your lips to his. You tossed it somewhere behind you, hand squeezing his. His own free hand went up to your cheek, splaying fingers across your skin as he began to stand straight up. He pulled apart from you, toeing off his boots and gazing at you. “Why don’t you ever speak your language to me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, questioning. “What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. “You never speak your native language with me. You talk at me in other languages, but never the one you always talk in.”

“Simon,” You drew out his name, moving to place your hands on his sort of damp cheeks, thumbs threading across white scars. “Well, you can’t talk back to me in my language. I love to talk with you in English, I love hearing your voice.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “My voice? Nothin’ special ‘bout it. But yours- Yours,” His hands settled on top of yours, prying them from his face as he spoke, “You could speak to me in your language every second of the day, and I’ll love it. Justa hear you talk to me like that.”

Your eyes widened, you bit your bottom lip while a smile made itself known upon your face. “What if I just want to talk to you with English?” His face sort of dropped, disappointment flashed in his eyes but you hurriedly laughed, moving to hold his hands in your own. “I’m just kidding, my love.”

“I think I know how to make you talk.” His hands pried from yours, immediately coming to settle on the back of your knees. He stood, lifting you as you squeaked in surprise. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, hands hit right on his collarbone as his teeth nipped at your lips. His eyes kept your gaze as he whispered, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to speak English, you’ll be beggin’ in your language.”

———

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader

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palestinegenocide · 2 months

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Israeli genocide is ’embarrassing’ Biden, at last

The Biden administration’s disgraceful policy on Gaza is finally becoming a crisis. Brushing a genocide under the rug only works for so long. The world is appalled, and the Democratic Party base is appalled, and Biden is taking steps– rhetorically anyway– to try to distance himself from a policy of murderous recrimination he has underwritten since the October 7 atrocities.

First at the State of the Union Speech on Thursday night Biden criticized Netanyahu during a post-speech handshake with Colorado Senator Michael Bennet.

“I told him, Bibi, and don’t repeat this, but you and I are going to have a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting,” Biden said. Then alerted that he was being recorded, Biden said, “I’m on a hot mic here… Good. That’s good.”

And outside the Capitol, demonstrators held banners saying “Biden’s Legacy Is Genocide.”

Then yesterday Biden went further. He gave an interview to a loyal Democratic Party journalist, Jonathan Capehart of MSNBC, and said Netanyahu “is hurting Israel” in the eyes of the world.

He has a right to defend Israel, a right to continue to pursue Hamas but he must, he must, he must pay more attention to the innocent lives being lost as a consequence of the actions being taken. He’s hurting– In my view he’s hurting Israel more than helping Israel by making the rest of the world — It’s contrary to what Israel stands for, and I think it’s a big mistake. So I want to see a ceasefire. Starting with a major, major exchange of prisoners. For a six week period. We’re going into Ramadan, there should be nothing happening.

This may sound good—to those who are idealistic about Israel maybe, like Senator Bennet – but how does it sound to any one who cares about Palestinian human rights? More than 31,000 Palestinians have been killed, the overwhelming majority civilians, in actions of pure rage and collective punishment. And as Biden was quick to assure Capehart, “I’m never going to leave Israel. The defense of Israel is still critical, so there’s no red line I’m going to cut off all weapons.”

As Mitchell Plitnick wrote on our site of the increasing Israel-critical rhetoric from the Biden administration, it’s so much “theatrics.” The policy hasn’t changed at all, and it won’t even if the Good Cop Benny Gantz is at Israel’s helm, as Kamala Harris and Biden seem to prefer.

Biden could shut Israeli actions down in a minute. But he will only do lip service to the progressives because the Democratic Party elites are still committed to Israel. Several Congresspeople brought Israelis to the State of the union Speech, including Los Angeles Congressman Brad Sherman, who issued a statement of unqualified support for Israel’s slaughter of Gazans, in defiance of progressives, who are trying to “muddy our national discourse.”

As anti-Israel forces attempt to penetrate and muddy our national discourse, President Biden’s robust defense of Israel will serve as a powerful reminder to the many families of American and Israeli hostages who will be present for tonight’s Address, as well as to the world, that America’s bond with Israel stands unbroken, and our commitment to its right to exist remains unwavering.

And that guy represents Malibu and Studio City and Pacific Palisades! So screw the progressives.

Even NPR is telling us that Biden can’t walk away from the Jewish community politically, even if his base wants him to. Senior Editor Ron Elving:

Netanyahu has taken Israel in a particular direction that is not necessarily popular among American Jews, but which has alienated many people in this country in the Biden administration and elsewhere. And as a result there is a difficulty here that is really insurmountable for the Biden campaign.

While the New Yorker reminds us that Biden has not only the ability to cut off military aid to Israel, but he is required by law to do so, so long as it is preventing humanitarian aid from entering Gaza. But he won’t do it. And it’s “collective punishment,” says Isaac Chotiner, and an embarrassment.

The idea that we’re giving massive amounts in aid to a country that is refusing our request to allow humanitarian assistance through so we have to airdrop food is embarrassing.

Embarrassing. That’s what we’ve come to. The superpower is embarrassed by its client state’s ongoing massacre of Palestinian civilians that shows no signs of stopping. The President is having to explain himself and distance himself from the Israelis.

I suppose we should be grateful there’s a political crisis at last. Though we are a long way yet from an honest examination of Zionism and its roots in the Jewish community and American policy.

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pancakes4two · 1 year

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SCANDALOUS GF IG PT 2 RN 💳💥💳!!💳💥!!

HI HI HI sorry it took me literally forever to do a part 2. hope this is worth the wait!!

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

people

100,211 likes

people You know I love you, babe.

Harry Styles and girlfriend Y/N L/N pack on the PDA after being spotted on a lunch date in Malibu. This comes just two weeks after the pair stirred up controversy for collaborating on a lingerie collection for Styles’ brand Pleasing. Hit the link in our bio for more.

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harryfan3 conveniently kissing in the middle of the street in front of a bunch of paps, nice

harryfan2 i don’t like who she’s turning him into.

harryfan1 this plus that childish ass ig post she uploaded last week? yikes

harrystan5 guys… can we please go back to having some class

harrygirl1 and we thought the olivia yacht pics were bad😭 now he’s making out in broad daylight

yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, emrata and 76,429 others

yourinstagram all i have to say

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emrata exactly 👏👏👏

yourbff at the end of the day she’s thriving

harrystyles 🖤

yourinstagram luuuuuuuuuuuv you 💋💋

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harryflorals

80,827 likes

harryflorals Harry recently followed model Emrata on Instagram!

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harryfan1 uh

harryfan3 randomly???

harryfan4 i mean she’s not the greatest but i’d prefer her to y/n🫢

harrystan1 don’t get your hopes up😭 she’s like BFFs with y/n

harryforever he’s going on her podcast i have a friend who helps produce it lol

harryfan8 and what exactly does harry have to say on emrata’s podcast😭😭 that’s so random

emrata

Liked by yourinstagram, deuxmoi and 1,934,283 others

emrata Today on High Low w/ Emrata! I chat with Harry Styles about double standards and the difficulty of trying to correct a media narrative. Spoiler alert: he’s not too appreciative about the social media witch-hunt that’s currently directed at his girlfriend. Stream using the link in my bio.

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harryfan1 oh no. oh no. OH NO

harryfan7 i listened to the full hour podcast so y’all don’t have to lol. he basically told us to fuck off in the nicest way possible. when i get back home i’ll comment some direct quotes here

harrystan UHHHHHHHHHHH

harryfan7 he said: “It’s obviously hard when you’ve been in the public eye for so long, and people start to feel like you have some sort of obligation to them, or that they somehow know you on a deeply personal level and can dictate what you are or aren’t supposed to do. And that’s not to say everyone is guilty of falling into that mindset—certainly the vast majority of the internet displays nothing but kindness and grace. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t disappointing to see the public reaction to… certain things lately. It’d be nice if those corners of social media could show a little more compassion, especially towards someone I love.”

harryfan9 honestly he has a point. like i’m definitely guilty of being harsh towards his gfs in the past but hearing him say that really put things into perspective for me

harryfan10 meh still think she’s problematic. yeah maybe we don’t know harry on a deeply personal level 🙄 but we’ve been fans of him for so many years and we know he typically doesn’t act like how he does with her. why is it wrong for us to comment on that?

harry’s instagram story:

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld @grapejuice-rry @b-reads-things @s8tellite @michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight @flwrmuse

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles social media #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction rec #harry styles rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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acrosstobear · 9 months

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malibu barbie dream girl thinks she knows something about music (spoiler alert: she doesn't <3)

#callum ilott #indycar #juncos hollinger racing #he is My Malibu Barbie dream girl #and y'all will just have to deal with that #its been 400000 years since i made gifs #but by god he looks good #so here u are #DONT LET THIS FLOP ON ME

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pleasantangelpaper · 5 months

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To Run From the Sky (Part 1)

Hi!!! So, this fic is sort of a new thing I'm trying out on my wattpad. It's a William Afton x Reader that is a little angsty! I'm curious to know how tumblr will react to it, so here it is! Feel free to check out my wattpad account if you would like to read there! My user is the same on both platforms! :)

William Afton x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating

Just last month I was swimming in the clear waters of Malibu beach, and now I'm moving back in with my parents in Hurricane, Utah. Where did I go wrong? How could this have happened to me? I remember, but I still don't understand...

The air was cold for California as I navigated alleyways, weaving in between sheds and cars to find my friend and roommate, Bethany, who had invited me to her boyfriend's house party. Upon finally finding the house, by ear rather than eye, as crappy pop blared through the enormous living room sound system, I stumbled up the lawn, trying not to trip over various red solo cups. A few boys stood watch outside the door, joking around, and obviously getting very drunk. Walking past them, I entered the house. Loud music and bright lights flooded my senses, bringing me to a very alert state. "Bethany!" I yelled into the void of party-goers. No response was heard. I journeyed on through the group of people, pushing my way past several drunk guys. I then saw a familiar taller gentleman. "Stu!" I yelled at him. "Oh hey Y/N! Have you seen Bethany anywhere?" the puzzled man questioned. I sighed in discontent, "No, I'm looking for her too,". "Maybe you could go check my room? She might have went in there to sit down for a minute," Stu stated. I nodded my head and walked towards the spiral staircase that adorned his second floor balcony. Stu's house was quite lavish. As I found Stu's room I could hear some strange noises from inside. My brain told me to stay out of it, but my heart feared for Bethany. The door opened, and my throat closed. There was my boyfriend, Billy, and my best friend, Bethany, kissing. My mouth stayed open as tears filled my eyes. "How........ how could you do this to me...... how could either of you do this to me.....". The two struggled to find words as they pulled apart from one another. I stood heartbroken in the doorway. My tears started to drip off of my face, creating a puddle on Stu's floor. "Hey Y/N, was she in th-" Stu began to question before he noticed the tension in the room. "What happened?" he asked, a slight tinge of anger becoming evident in his voice. "Stu, baby, he just started kissing me, and I just couldn't fight back," " Bullshit, you kissed me first" The two argued at each other trying to come up with some sort of story that would get them out of trouble, but it was too late. Stu's eyes welled with tears as he screamed for them to get out of his house. I don't remember much after that. It all feels like a blur. I move out of the shared apartment I had with Bethany, and now I'm here, in Utah.

I set my last box down on the floor of my childhood bedroom. Waves of emotions hit me as I stare at the corkboard full of memories. Memories of Bethany and I before we had moved to California tainted the room. I felt my soul fill with rage. I tore down the pictures with tears in my eyes. As I fell to the ground, a soft knock was heard at my bedroom door. "Come in," I grumbled out to the unknown visitor. "How you doing, honey," my mother gently walked into the room, avoiding the pictures on the ground. I just silently cried as she patted my back. "Y'know, I hate to do this to you, but our neighbors, the Aftons, are coming over for dinner tonight, they've got a lot going on as well, and I wish we could reschedule, but this plan has been going on for some time now... we would love it if you would join us, dear," my mother spoke quietly as if any loud words or sudden movements would cause me to spiral again. I sniffled and wiped my tears with my cardigan sleeve, "Thanks mom, but I would rather finish unpacking first," "That's okay honey, take all the time you need,". And with that, my mother left and closed the door, leaving me to my own devices once again. I began to unpack the boxes around me, sorting what I could into the drawers of my old dresser, and organizing a desk space. I set up some stuffed animals on my bed to make it seem more inviting, and I fluffed the pillows that had gone untouched for some time now.

By the time I was finished, I glanced at the clock on my wall and noticed it was 10 o'clock. "I better get something to eat I guess," I spoke aloud to myself. The hallways were dark as I creeped down the wooden stairs to the kitchen. I noticed the smell of burnt coffee as I walked forward, but thought nothing of it, that is, until I noticed a figure that definitely was not either of my parents. "I just can't get this damn thing to work right," the man proclaimed. His purple button-up sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he prodded at buttons on the old coffee machine. His glasses were on the tip of his nose as he stuck his tongue out in thought, his brows furrowed in frustration. My cheeks turned a bit rosy as I stared at the attractive man in front of me. I finally put two and two together and noticed this man must be Mr. Afton. "Do you need any help, Mr. Afton?" I sheepishly spoke. The man spun around in surprise, "Oh! You must be Y/N, I had no idea anyone was still up, your parents told me that I could stay over for the night," he got quieter as the sentence went on, clearly embarrassed by needing a place to sleep. "Don't feel ashamed, I'm also freeloading here right now," I half-joked at my predicament. The older man's face softened as he turned his attention back to the old coffee maker. My family had had this coffee maker for as long as I had been alive. I walked over and grabbed the pot as I hit the button to brew. "Yeah... this thing is so old that if the pot isn't sitting in exactly one place it just doesn't go," I sighed at the fact that we were still using this thing. Mr. Afton chuckled at the piece of old tech and ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, that's something," he said in disbelief. Once the pot was done brewing, I pulled down two coffee mugs, one a pale blue with white bunnies dancing across it, and the other a pale yellow with the same design. "Sorry Mr. Afton, I think these bunny mugs are the only ones clean," I laughed a little at the cute designs in contrast to this grown man. "That's fine, I love bunnies," he smirked. "Also, please don't call me Mr. Afton, you'll make me feel older than I already do... call me William," he half-grunted at the statement. I giggled at him as I poured the cheap coffee into the cute bunny mugs, spilling a bit onto the peeling linoleum of the counter. I handed him the yellow mug in silence and took a sip of the warm drink. I noticed William make a face as he drank it. "Nothing like the taste of off-brand coffee made in a cheap old coffee maker, huh?" I joked. "Oh yeah nothing like it," he chuckled back. We stood with small conversation as we finished our drinks. The interaction made me smile, and I felt a bit warmer inside, like I wasn't alone in all of this. As we both finished off the coffee pot, I gently set our mugs in the sink. "Goodnight William," I said, as I walked towards the stairs. "Goodnight Y/N,"

#william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #springtrap x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x you #william afton fluff #matthew lillard x reader

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equallyshaw · 1 year

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a blue moon w mat barzal.

insta edit.

Warnings: none !

Word Count: 1.8k+

Not the best, but wanted to get something out. A bit rusty, but hope you enjoy!

────────────

they met at a very grand and very chic new years party, at the plaza hotel in midtown manhattan 3 years ago. she had been swaying to the old 1950’s music, sipping sparingly on the very expensive $600 champagne. she watched as my older sister danced with her newly minted fiance at the time, as the two had just become engaged over the very snowy christmas eve. lucy had originally planned to bring her boyfriend of 6 years to the new years eve party, but he broke up with her a week before christmas day. out of the blue, very sudden, and gave her no clarity whatsoever.

☆

blue moon, you saw me standing alone

without a dream in my heart without a love of my own

☆

but there she was, watching the loved up couples dancing as time winded down to midnight. She peered over her shoulder, towards the balcony and sighed, before making her way over. her newly gifted jimmy choo heals clicked uncomfortably on the marble floor. she felt an instant sigh of relief as the brunette stepped foot outside to the 12-degree, cold. she walked up to the railing and looked out of busy, busy new york, taking in all the sights and sounds, and the stray snow coming down as well. she smiled down at her hand, twisting the glass ever so slightly. she then looked up and to her right, and saw him. a tall, dark haired, mysterious man who leaned against the railing, looking towards the city. smiling, picking up her glass and walkedon over. he heard the heels clicking on the concrete and looked up towards the girl. he was gorgeous. her breath halted ever so slightly, and blushed. “fancy some company?” grinning, sipping her champagne. He watched as she did so, him intoxicated by her sheer presence. he took in all 5’4 of her, black dress and her bruntte hair in perfect waves. “why are you all alone?” he questioned, “no girl like you- should ever be alone.” forward, which she loved. whe smiled, “i could say the same to you shakespeare…” and he looked down ever so quickly.

"my ex broke up with me a month ago…nobody to take to the party. You?” he said shrugging. “ny boyfriend broke up with me..last week.” she said and he then saluted his drink towards her. “i suggest, were gonna need more of that.” he grinned, before alerting a server that they needed two new glasses of champagne. she looked at him with curiosity, as he thanked the server. she took the new glass, clinking her’s with his and swallowed a fine amount.

☆

blue moon, you knew just what i was there for

you heard me saying a prayer for someone I really could care for

☆

the night sky dawned upon them as they spoke outside at the party. the two spoke of who they were, where they come from, their past relationships, and more. the two couldn’t believe how they were so alike, yet very different. two different worlds colliding, so very smoothly. lucy stood there in shock, as mat waited for a response. “so quickly? She questioned and he nodded. “you’d go into a relationship without somebody so quickly after 3 years of dating?” he laughed. the laugh sending electricity and heat up her body. She watched as it traveled throughout his body, seemingly normal. Though, he hadn’t had a good chuckle that good in awhile. “what about you, miss lucy?” he questioned, watching her tug his tux’s jacket closer to her. “I mean, maybe? It would have to be the right person and if it fell right. I want somebody that will be there high and low, and in between. Somebody who will say yes no matter what to my crazy idea or suggestion…” mat cut her off- “which would be?” he grinned. She blushed, “maybe getting joes pizza at 2 am or ice cream at malibu diner..the simple things.” she teased sipping more of her drink. “I wish for that person as well, to stand by me through all the ups and downs of hockey and the chaotic life it brings.” he added and she nodded, placing a hand on his arm. “i do too, mathew.” she smiled, before sliding the jacket off and placing it in his hands. The two’s hands grazed one another’s, and she moved them so slightly, they were nothing longer touching. he looked down at the jacket and back up at her, but she was already on her way back inside. “lucy!” though she slipped right inside as soon as he said her name. he hurried inside to find her, but was too late, the madness had begun as the clock struck 12.

☆

and then there suddenly appeared before me

the only one my arms could ever hold

☆

mat walked into the grand ballroom at the plaza, one year later for the annual new years ever party. he scanned the room for one girl, and one girl only. the girl that had stolen his heart in the 45 minutes he knew her. a girl he had yet to see at joes pizza at 2 am or the malibu diner. anders pulled him further into the room as he spotted him walk in. “come on the guys are waiting.” mat sighed as he walked over towards bo horvat, zach parise, mat martin and beau; who had snuck down for new years from vancouver. anders pushed a vintage, tulip glass. he looked down and realized, he hadn’t had any champagne since last new years. he took a gulp, before the spicy yet sweet sensation tingled his throat. “Im gonna go look at the buffet.” he said and the guys nodded going back to their conversation and food. mat sauntered over to the buffet picking up a small china plate, and digging into the salmon, veggies some lemon rice. mat was about to turn to grab a glass of water when he heard her laugh. he turned so quickly, he bumped into an older gentleman. “oh my god, im so sorry!” he exclaimed bending down to help clean up the ice that spilled from the drink. “Grandpa, are you ok?” he heard her angelic, soft voice. mat looked up from where now the waiter was telling him they had it. He nodded, standing back up. lucy inspected her grandfather, while a man beside her eyed mat. lucy looked past her grandpa, and had a moment of realization. “Mat?” she questioned, and mat ever the dumb-looking mat nodded. “how are you?” she questioned, reaching out to hug him like the two had known one another for years, they pulled apart and thats when he saw it. He saw the vintage, at least 200,000 dollar engagement ring. she saw him look down at it, and she slowly pulled her hand back behind her back, where it had been most of the night. “how are you? who are you here with?” she questioned, as her fiance fell into side with her. “im uh, ive been good! Im here with some of my teammates.” he explained while pointing to the other side of the room. “oh good! glad its more people this time.” she smiled, a soft smile. He nodded, “so are you two?” he questioned putting the clues together. “Yes! We got engaged in July, while we were vacationing in Italy at my family’s estate.” lorenzo explained. mat nodded trying to read the girl’s face, who was trying to look anywhere but his. “hun, may you get me a drink please?” she asked and lorenzo nodded, kissing her temple before walking off.

“Congrats by the way.” mat said, and she nodded. “Yeah…sorry to ambush you.” she said patting down her silver dress. mat shrugs, “i mean how else would i know?” he asked giving an uncomfortable laugh. “Not like it was in the papers or anything.” he stated jokingly, and then he saw her face. “yeah, my family is uh pretty wealthy and uh..yeah.” she said sheepishly and then lorenzo walked back up, with a cosmopolitan in his hand. “thankyou.” she said taking it from his hand and setting it on the table behind them. “i uh should probably be heading back to my friends, im sorry for for your drink sir.” he motioned towards her grandpa, and he waved him off. “im just glad i got another one for our sake.” he laughed, causing mat to laugh as well. lucy smirked, knowing that her grandpa hadn’t had a hearty laugh like that with lorenzo. mat walks away, and lorenzo is in distress.

mat watched from a far for about 45 minutes, a tense conversation between the fiances. he saw lorenzo walk out of the ballroom, and lucy towards the terrace. he followed her about 5 minutes after the door was closed behind her. he walked outside, and she turned around instantly. she had hoped he saw that she walked out. “lucy?” he questioned, pulling off his jacket like he had done last year and draped it over her shoulders, and he wrapped his arms from behind, pulling her into him. she smiled widely, “i had been waiting to..to be held by you once again.” she smiled up at him. he blushed, “you are the only one i want to hold.” he whispered in her ear, staring at the city in front of him.

☆

Iiheard somebody whisper please adore me

and when I looked the moon had turned to gold

☆

she turned around in his arms, looking up at him. “i’ve decided to leave a life i thought was meant for me, and what i wanted but…i dont want that mat. he was never the one, those 45 minutes were the best 45 minutes of my life mat. i havent been able to stop thinking about you since last year. and i dont want him, i want you mat. only you.” she confessed and he smiled, pulling her in as close as possible. “i wanted somebody to adore me…the way i adore them.” she whispered, and he nodded. he drawed her chin towards his, his cool hands sending waves of sensation down her spine, before he kissed the brunette. the rare full moon of new years eve, cascaded down upon them. no longer a ‘blue’ moon but a ‘gold’ one at that.

☆

the two start their first dance as partners, at the very place they met for the first time and three years after they first met. when the two were presented with picking the date, the two looked at one another and instantly knew when and where. and with a little help from her grandpa, the two were to wed on new years eve at one of the most sought-after hotel in nyc. and there plans for after midnight? a 45 minute walk to malibu diner for icecream and pie.

☆

hope you all enjoyed!! pls like and repost, itd mean a lot.

random tags: @matbaerzal @barzysunflower @barzal @rosesvioletshardy @canuckshuggy @bitchinbarzal @andreburakozy @jayda12

#mat barzal #mat barzal x oc #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new York islanders #matt martin #anthony beauvillier #tyson jost #mat barzal imagine #equallyshaw masterlist

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

Text

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Intro: Red Bottoms, Blue Box

The blessing and the curse of California is that the weather never really changed – at least not the same way it did in the Midwest. It lazed between the mid-70s and mid-80s, usually sunny and on an odd weekend, a whisper of rain if you were lucky. That was definitely the hardest part of the west coast that Mia needed to adjust to – that and the traffic.

Though her past three years in Malibu had prepared her for the weather, it was a far cry from her home in Omaha – a home she hadn’t visited in the last five years, at least.

One of the many blessings of Miramar was the ability to drive her father’s red 1973 Jaguar XKE, which wasn’t cut for the brutal cold and snow of Nebraska winters.

Like today, as she wound the classic, red two-seater down the road, she often felt like she was on another planet. Especially now as the base was quiet with limited staff around. But she knew that would be changing shortly. With warning from her directing attorney, she had the information that several aviators would be arriving on base within the next few weeks for an indeterminate amount of time. Sure, there were typically additional members hanging around the base for training or part of their stationing, but it could be quiet.

She was told it would no longer be quiet – and she welcomed it. As a contracting legal advisor and newly minted attorney, working on base in Fightertown, USA, was something she never saw herself doing.

However, after finishing law school at Pepperdine and without a family to return to in Nebraska, she moved as close as she could to where she needed to be – near her grandmother who was in a memory care facility in Del Mar.

Mia had no draw to the Navy, military or anything in the orbit of the armed forces. She wanted to be a short drive from grandma Dorothea and for now, was still pleased with living in California. The job posting was simply one that populated on her feed after setting up several alerts to her email after getting the seal of approval from the California Bar.

Her superior, Lt. Gen. Bozek, was a kind and understanding man, and didn’t treat her differently for being a young woman that was not enlisted. She could learn a lot from him, and at least for the last six months, had made a career in the military appealing as a civilian. She had her own private office on base and a moderate walk from other buildings, allowing her peace and quiet to do her job – which was primarily procedural review and small civilian-involved cases, along with assisting Bozek with any projects or cases he may need a hand with.

They worked from 9-4, cut off early on Fridays and occasionally his high-school-aged daughter would send him to work with a box of homemade cookies. He also ensured that she was treated with respect by all they encountered. He had warned her it was different for contracted civilians on base, and to be fair, it was a male-dominated base, but she never felt uncomfortable or unwelcome.

However, there were a few places on base that she hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to visit quite yet, including the NEX, or commissary.

There were many ways that Mia knew she was an outsider on base, and though she was doing her best to assimilate in her personal and professional life, something about the NEX gave her anxiety.

However, today was different. And Lt. Gen. Bozek knew it.

“You’ll be great! It’s just a grocery store!” He called as he waved her out of the parking space in front of their brick-and-mortar.

“I can do it!” Mia called back with a laugh, but positively shuddering internally.

She normally did most of her grocery shopping at Whole Foods off base, not far from her condo, but it was in the opposite direction of the base from her home and she needed two things to make a recipe for dinner tonight.

So she’d take her chances at the commissary.

Sure, she’d driven by it many times, and it surely looked just like any other store, but there was something about its presence that didn’t seem like she belonged. Her ID card told her otherwise.

Walking in, she popped her AirPods into her ear and dialed in the Bloomberg Law podcast. Though she came in simply for two lemons and a carton of heavy cream, by nature of habit, she grabbed a small push cart and started wandering up and down the aisles.

Now, with a basket filled with lemons, raspberries, feta, rosemary, capers and heavy cream, she turned toward the dry goods. Whole Foods had a lot of great things, but didn’t have Kraft Mac ‘N Cheese.

Turning a blind corner to the pasta and rice aisle, she came to an abrupt stop as her small cart stopped just an inch short of another living body.

“Sorry!” She squeaked, not bothering to take out her AirPods, looking up at the shopper. She carefully maneuvered her cart around him, but heard his voice in a soft muffle from beneath her podcast. Nearly passed, she popped out her left ear. “What was that?” She asked.

“There is a speed limit to those things,” he commented with the faintest hint of a smirk. Mia gave a sheepish smile and a lame exhale of a laugh.

“Sorry about that,” she repeated, giving him one more look before plugging her podcast back in and moving forward down toward the opposite end of the walkway. She was oddly emboldened with confidence, a contrast to her feelings upon arrival. At the end of the day, she was just here to get some lemons… and Kraft Dinner. Now hearing only the click of her heels and June Grasso’s voice, she scanned the aisles for what she wanted.

They had plenty of thick ‘n creamy, but where was the three cheese? Finally spotting it up on the top shelf, she rose up the few spare centimeters her heels hadn’t already elevated her and reached out her arm. With the first three boxes missing, she was having just a small difficulty grabbing what she wanted.

Rolling forward on her toes again and failing, she was moments from settling for Velveeta shells when a hand appeared her in periphery. Once again, the voice was muffled.

“One or two?” The man asked again, Mia hearing him clearly with her AirPods now in her empty hand.

“Two, please,” she replied. She paused her podcast with a squeeze before committing her attention to her helper. “Thanks, the heels only take me up so far.” She smiled, receiving the boxes. At 5’6, she needed the help she could get, and her nude Louboutins could only help so much.

“Red bottoms and a blue box,” he winked. She took a moment to scan the helpful stranger. Perfectly coiffed blonde hair, teeth from a Crest ad and green eyes that rivaled an exotic succulent. “A winning combination.”

She spared a glance down to his own basket – chicken breast, white rice and frozen broccoli.

“Disciplined,” she commented.

“Something like that,” he replied. “Jake Seresin.”

“Nice to meet you Lieutenant,” she dropped the two boxes into her little basket, not cluing away too much from his badge.

“I’d love to return the sentiment…”

“Mia,” she began – “no Lieutenant, though,” she added.

“I put that together myself,” he said, eyes glancing down to her cart and taking in the other, fresh ingredients. He longed for dinners at upscale steakhouses and seafood on the water.

“Thanks again,” she said, bidding him goodbye and turning the corner.

He wasn’t finished, but he’d let her go this time.

Upon arriving back home at her condo, nestled on the top floor of her building, she put away her few commissary items and began to work on dinner – chicken picatta and a raspberry feta salad.

“Hi sweetheart,” She crooned, pleased to see her baby brother’s face on her phone.

“Hi Mimi,” Jack Thomas replied, looking worse for wear with rumpled hair and nap imprints across his cheek.

“You just wake up?” She asked, tending carefully to her chicken cutlets.

“Yeah, we had a five a.m. run this morning and I had to go straight from weightlifting to class,” he replied, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Homework time?” Mia prompted.

“The boys and I are going to the tutor rooms in a bit to get some work done,” he trailed. “We go to Omaha next week,” he added quietly. Mia gave her brother her undivided attention. “You’ll be great, Jacky,” she encouraged. Even now, so many years later, it was hard to return to Nebraska.

“Thanks Mimi,” he mumbled. “Can I still come out to see you in July?” He asked – a few months out.

“Of course, Jacky, you know you’re always welcome,” she encouraged. “Just tell me the dates and I’ll book your ticket. I’ll even pick you up in the Jag,” she winked.

“Sounds good, I’m going to change quick before Timo and I take off,” he said, life coming back into his voice. “Love you, Mimi.”

“Love you too, Jack Jack.” She blew him a kiss before he ended the call.

Wrapping up her dinner, she brought her plate out to the little bistro table on her deck, looking out as she enjoyed her meal. Absently, she wondered if she’d see Lieutenant Seresin again.

#jake seresin #named ofc #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake is a refined cowboy #hangman #top gun maverick #this gets smutty #and fluffy #top gun maverick fic #hangman smut #hangman fluff

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sassyfrassboss · 2 years

Note

I know for a fact they are separated, I have some connections within Californian high society through my father’s business and with my husband well connected in state politics and also through my work as an attorney.

She has definitely got a new man. He is wealthier than Harry but definitely shady by most standards.

She goes to Los Angeles and Malibu to be with him. Harry has met breaking point when she started bringing the new man to their home in Montecito and forcing Harry out with the kids.

She is toast in high society, won’t get anywhere in politics here and her career in anything is dead already. Kamala does not like her and has her blocked and so does Nancy.

She has a female attorney and what I’ve heard is that she is going to ruin Harry and accuse him of everything under the sun. She has bankrupted him. They are divorcing but most of it is being dealt with over in England with English attorneys.

Harry is actually well liked by a few in high society and people prefer him. However both of them are intertwined with Russian oligarchs that have turned more off of them.

The fact they socialize with Trump supporters and donors hasn’t been missed by progressive high society and powerful. Serena and Alexis do not like them.

The kids are raised by nannies all the time and she is trying to force elite schools in the state to accept Archie early. They also did use surrogates, it was leaked by one of the doctors they used.

I have contacts within her law firm and Sunshine Sachs, both say they are divorcing and broke, and that she in particular is psychotic and sociopathic.

She is also not pregnant, at least never by Harry.

Boiling hot tea ☕️ alert🚨!!!

This isn’t the first time we have heard they are no longer living together. Honestly I had a feeling they were separated during the Oprah interview. Just a feeling I had.

This does align with what we have seen of her “single mom” brand she is building. The solo picture of her and Lili, plus she took over the Spotify deal when it was supposed to be both of them.

I always figured she would go nuclear on Harry. It’s going to be Johnny vs. Amber x10000.

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test-of-my-patience · 4 months

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FIC HIGHLIGHT ALERT!!

a 12 chaptered, 68,869 worded home run ;)

today i am highlighting a fic from the ever so talented @thefreakandthehair... rounding third, sliding home AO3 link.

this was such a fun au but still very familiar. it was still eddie and steve being in love (occasionally idiots in love haha). also, the imagery in this work is amazing. i read everything so vividly and it made for a more emotional read!

things i loved about this fic:

steve being a baseball STAR

the malibu condo

eddie's encouragement during the game 🥺

eddie being a relaxing king but also chaotic

post massage talks

background but still very cute buckingham

sappy steve and eddie 🫂

keep reading for the author's summary 🥰

“Well, they can still win, right? There’s a lot of time left. I think?” “That’s rule number one, Ed,” Steve nods and stares at the screen, focused and distant— the kind of stare that tells Eddie he’s not talking about just the game. “Always assume the game you’re planning can be won. If you go into it thinking that losing is a possibility, then you’re gonna lose. Even if you’ve gotta rewrite the rules of the game yourself, you gotta convince yourself you can win.” The commentator seems to respond to Steve directly. “And that’s three strikes for Tommy Hagan for the fourth at-bat in a row. If this Dodgers team has a prayer of making the playoffs, it rests solely on Steve Harrington making it back in time.” Eddie feels Steve squeeze his hand tighter.

Or, Professional Baseball Shortstop Steve Harrington injures his UCL and returns home to Indiana for treatment. Cue massage therapist Eddie Munson whose tender, practiced touch heals much more than Steve's elbow.

please everyone read this fic! it's beautifully comforting. it has angst but filled with love and acceptance. the game can always be won and so can eddie and steve <3

don't forget to leave kudos, meaningful comments, and all the good things 🤍

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic rec #steddie fanfic rec #thefreakandthehair #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fic highlight alerts #i really am obsessed with this fic

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halfmoondaze · 2 years

Text

Jack Harlow and Y/N Relationship Timeline

A Twitter Exchange

The two made headlines for the first time after their cute interaction on Twitter, in which Y/N was asked about her favorite album, in which she was asked her favorite album at the moment, in which she reponded answering Jack’s album “Come Home The Kids Miss You”. Shortly after, Jack responded showing his appreciation and asking her to collaborate on a song sometime.

Even though Y/N was currently dating model and actor Jaden Webber, that didn’t stop fans from the shipping the two of them.

A Surprise Collaboration

In July 22, Y/N released her sophomore album titled “Nebula”, featuring the song “Every Single Night” featuring Jack Harlow.

Slow Burn

A month after her breakup with Jaden Webber who was spotted smooching Australian actrees Victoria Walsh outside 1 OAK Night club in West Hollywood, Y/N joins on Jack's Instagram Live. Fans instantly became obsessed over their cute but short interaction.

New Couple Alert

The pair first fanned the dating buzz flames when they were spotted in November 4 by a fan locking lips while cozying by the pool on their getaway to the Maldives.

Later, Y/N and Jack went Instagram official with the two posting pics of each other looking adorable.

A Family Affair

E! News reports that Y/N spent Christmas with Jack in Kentucky where he introduced her to his family. Then on New Years Eve, the pair flew to Y/H/C to spend some quality time with Y/N’s family.

“Y/N’s family loves him and he has grew closer to them as they treat him as part of the family. Y/N who also grew close to the Harlows, and shares a special bond with his mother” a source says.

Double Date Night

In January, the couple were spotted with another notorious private twosome: Kendall Jenner and Devin Booker. According to Us Weekly: the group met at Nobu in Malibu were they had the greatest time.

On Tour

In February, Jack announced his upcoming tour with Y/N as a special guest, with a post on his Instagram of the tour dates with the caption “See You Soon”.

The First Break-up

But just three months after making things Instagram official, the couple reportedly had broken up. A source told E! on March 7, the split was amicable.

Friends, Right?

While on a radio show on April 20, Y/N confirmed she was single when asked about her relationship status.

#Jack Harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow social media au #social media au #jack x you #jack harlow fic #bf!jack #harlow jack

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kply-industries · 5 months

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"Baywatch" is apparently called Alerte a Malibu in Mexico.

#animated gif #animated gifs #gif #gifs #old advertisements #old ads #retro #vhs #beach #baywatch #alert!#shark alarm!#lundi #TVA #90s

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p-redux · 8 months

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Waking up to a ton of DMs alerting me to new Sam sighting in Los Angeles!

I was waiting for Sam to surface after his friend Nic Rasenti was very clearly in L.A. yesterday. I screencapped Nic's IG story pretty quickly, but I didn't post it. Here's Nic in L.A. yesterday, and the new pic of Sam at Pharos Gym Redondo Beach. 👇

Redondo Beach is one of the beach cities in L.A. County. It's part of what's called the South Bay. It's not super close to Venice, Santa Monica or Malibu, where Sam is usually seen, so this is cool that he is venturing to other beaches in L.A.

Any South Bay peeps, now's your chance, hahaha. I had a good friend who used to live in Redondo Beach, but she moved, dammit.

Too bad L.A. is so huge, or I'd be tempted to go on a drive...😊

PS. We are getting Hurricane Hilary rainstorms on late Sunday and Monday during the day, then back to our perfect L.A. weather. Hope Sam reads weather apps and is prepared.

#samheughan #sam heughan #nic rasenti #nicrasenti #pharos gym #pharos redondo #redondo beach #los angeles #peter vodden

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terrence-silver · 1 year

Note

Ooh, what about exploring a dark, yandere beauty and the beast type situation, where Terry keeps beloved locked away in that palatial gated mansion of his in exchange for forgiving some sort of debt maybe? And then proceeds to totally breach all of their privacy and take away all their agencies and manipulate them into doing all sorts of sordid things, whatever it is he fancies. 💜

---

You ruined Terry Silver’s Charlotte Thomas bed sheets.

22 Gold Karats - woven directly into the sleek Egyptian cotton.

$2400 a piece.

Ugly as all fuck.

The maintenance of his estate and the surrounding grounds was never an easy affair — not in the 80’s and not now, when he deliberately downgraded and considerably downsized from his Beverly Hills mansion into a more compact sense of accommodation at Malibu, La Costa, and occasionally elsewhere, when he both, here and everywhere he resided depending of his needs — he employed a smaller army of people to ensure everything ran smoothly with people who cooked, cleaned, washed, tended to his affairs, answered emails, polished his shoes, his floors, took calls he couldn’t be fucked taking, minding the security of the place, and yes, even changing the bedsheets.

It was very much deliberate. Him breaking protocol.

Indirectly steering you from your very precise and allotted task of tending the issue of swapping out pillow cases with the exact thread count. Smoothing the antiseptic, fitted sheets and removing the used ones twice a week. Cleaning and presenting the appropriate blankets whenever he wasn’t there, and of course, he never was. Always away on business. Always on meetings. Always somewhere. Traveling. From one jet to the other. You never even saw your employer and the owner of the household. All you knew, poor thing, was that Mr. Silver was very anal about how he slept. The quality of his rest. Where and how he re-charged his body. But, he? He saw you plenty. Oh, did he ever. Through the cameras all around the mansion since day one. A bird couldn’t crap on the roof without him being alerted. The other members of the senior staff who reported to him on what everyone did. At any moment. Any given hour. He liked watching. For two years, five months , a week and eight days.

That’s how long you were in his employ.

Even when he entertained himself with other people — other holes — he still watched. A precious butterfly, fluttering at the edge of his web.

And somewhere, between the time it took to carefully and very meticulously comb through your work resume delivered to him by his majordomo who gave you the maintenance job in the first place and your more personal affinities through the aid of a private detective and his own Internet search (ah, the joys of modernity) Terry Silver decided he’s going to keep you. Keep you..indebted, if you will. He was never a tyrant, after all. Never with the people he paid. His people. They’d all collectively call him the best of bosses if asked — and he was. He really was. And not just because messing with one’s maids and gardeners was generally considered bad mojo. The clogs in his machine were never to be underestimated and Terry had a devotion to each and every one of them to the point of memorizing everything he could about everyone ranging from his pool cleaner to the people trimming the decorative verge on his grounds. Of course he was mindful of the controversy of getting entangled with his maid but he also found he didn’t give a fuck.

If the rules were smooth bending steel, he was born to bend them.

And yet, for the past six months, he does the unthinkable in specifically requesting — exactly and most unflinchingly of you, through the network of his staff’s hierarchy — that upon his return to the estate, dropped off by his chauffeur, a glass of red Burgundy wine be delivered specifically to his bedroom, to his bedside, and furthermore, his made pristine white bed on a silver platter, hoping that one day, in the near future, you’ll spill a droplet. Just a droplet, so the head of his managerial staff can remorsefully deliver the news to you; all damages made to Mr. Silver’s property are as per the tiny print in your contract to be worked off with extra hours or cut out of your monthly salary, purely so he can swoop in like the savior of the very narrative he elaborately weaved, and in all his charitable fashion declare that ‘No, Charles, we’re not monsters! They’re just sheets!’ Naturally, all pre-planned. A disaster waiting to happen. Like a banana peel on a greasy floor someone could slip on, one day, a crystal glass of red wine tumbles off of the silver platter you were placing down on the end table he could ritualistically drink out of on scheduled arrival the way he always did, and with a thud, it lands on the clear white bed, like a stain worthy of a crime scene. Spilling. He nearly cums watching you through the camera, and your body language and expression when he concealed your shriek.

Finally, the last puzzle piece of his plan. Beauty lured into the castle’s dungeon.

Took you long enough. Frankly, Terry hoped you’d be clumsier.

Terry imagined himself far less patient than he turned out to be in waiting.

He has to laugh, though. What kind of man orders his maid to leave him a silver platter with red wine next to a white bed with obscenely expensive sheets? Only one who wanted to cause trouble on purpose. And he did. And he managed. You were so careful too. For an infuriatingly long time to the point he started contemplating changing tact somehow. So respectful of his things. Where he rested. Your scent all over his pillows, keeping him up at night. And now, those bullshit Charlotte Thomas sheets could finally be discarded in the hazard of your accident. He barely contains your embarrassed sobbing, interrupting the scene of his household’s staff manager chastising you. He’ll deal with them later. Nobody chastises you. Nobody. Nobody but him . You deserved to be draped in diamonds and jewels, not scorned by someone who’s job it was to oversee his kitchens and guest rooms, and you would be, in due time, but for now, you’d stay here and work and it would all be fine. You’d work your debt off and you didn’t even know it. Whatever it took to have you around. Nothing was for free, after all. And he’d keep adding to what you owed him and adding and adding until you’d be inadvertently tied to him in a slurry of prolonged work contracts that never expire.

-”C’mon. We’re are all a family here.”-

Terry uses a much reviled phrase while he hovering over you with a paternalistic, warm sense of comfort, offering you a handkerchief to dry your face with when you found one lacking inside the pocket of your own uniform, flustered with anxiety and shame to come face to face with him for the first time ever like this, your immediate superiors in the chain of command dismissed by him while he spoke to you, right there, in his own bedroom, the floor swiftly mopped down, sheets and mattress immediately removed by his workers. -”A family. A team.”- He claps his hands in front of him tenderly with a smile that he knew could make Grandfather Christmas melt. You shake your head, avoiding his gaze, making yourself appear small, clearly shaken. Did you really think he’d fire you over this? He’d didn’t fire his Dynatox agents when they created an oil spill the size of Burundi in the Pacific Ocean back in the ‘87, and he’d certainly not fire his darling over something he planned for so long. In fact, you performed immaculately. Beautifully. Much like them, you’d be promoted, if anything — promoted , in due time, to the very bed you sullied today.

-”I’m sorry again, sir, I don’t know how that happened. I really didn’t mean to, I —”-

You stutter, infinitely apologetic, and he yearns to order; Call me sir again. Instead, Terry chuckles.

-”Tactically unsound, huh?”- He tries on the airs of a casual, jovial semi-retired business mogul, hands in his pockets. Always worked like a charm. Something people out here ate up like Kale. -”Drinking red wine in white sheets? Totally my doing.”- He makes a down-to-earth joke, trying for self-awareness in a meta sense, and you never even realized he was confessing to his own petty machination to your face disguised as easy going humor; something you’d be working off for the rest of your life if he had any say in it. But, sweet thing? You’d find being with him is the most comfortable place you could ever imagine being. In time, you’d thank him for it. Love him for it. Unable to envision yourself anywhere else but by his side. This was meant to happen; was entirely beyond your control. It was in his hands to decide. You were bound to spill that wine the minute Terry Silver set his mind to it, and no other outcome was possible since then. Maybe your fate was sealed the minute you crossed the threshold of this mansion. -”But, what do I know. I’m just an old man who likes his comforts.”- He shrugs, ever so humble, and you finally peer up, daring to look at him, unsure what to do with his handkerchief now that has been used. Oh, the gorgeousness. In any other situation, he’d take it, moist as it was but for the sake of not putting you off too soon, he gestures for you to keep it. Saintly boss that he is. -”Now, tell you what; clean yourself up and take the day off. You’ve earned it. Tomorrow morning, same time?”-

Terry suggests, warm as a spring breeze. If he didn’t know any better, he’d charm himself. In due time, though --- not today, not tomorrow, but soon, you’d be broken in ways he needed you to be.

You nod, excusing yourself and walking out, appearing…well…somewhat relieved.

Ah.

Terry Silver’s heart was full.

His little companion; the one who will never leave him or this house.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #old man terry #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #yandere #tw; blackmail #tw; financial blackmail #tw; modern day beauty and the beast au #tw; abusive boss #tw; gaslighting #tw; maid and boss

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jinxquickfoot · 8 months

Text

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Find the fic on Ao3

“Sir? The hotel staff have a message for you.”

“Isn’t that what I built you for, JARVIS? To listen to useless messages so that I don’t have to?”

“The message was left by Cadet Staff Sergeant Rhodes, Sir.”

“Oh, he’s been promoted already, has he? Did I get him a congratulations gift?”

“I picked out something I felt was appropriate.”

“And what did he say?”

“Thank you, JARVIS. You have good taste.”

Tony collapses back on the hotel bed, working his tie loose and throwing it to the ground. He wants the suit off too, wants to bury his head under the power shower and drown himself, but moving feels like entirely too much effort. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He wrinkles his forehead, trying to remember. “Was there a ceremony or something?”

There’s a delicate pause. “Yes, Sir. You were unconscious from intoxication and therefore stayed home.”

You’re so selfish, Tony. Everything is always about you.

“That also sounds correct.” Tony stares at the brand new bottle of top-shelf whiskey that’s filling the role of his plus-one to the Malibu Beach Inn. He’d slipped past the paparazzi crowding his front door demanding a statement, fully intent on stashing himself away without a word. “How does Rhodey even know I’m here?”

“I alerted him, given your current state.”

“There’s no state. I just wanted some peace and quiet, is that so much for a man to ask for?”

I asked for one thing. One night. But as always, you put the spotlight on you.

Tony reaches for the whiskey bottle.

“Shall I play the message?”

“Just think of an appropriate reply, J. That’s the whole reason you exist.”

“I would like to think I exist to ensure your well-being, Sir. Cadet Staff Sergeant Rhodes has called hotel reception several times asking if he should fly in to visit you.”

Tony freezes with his hand on the bottle lid.

I’m always bending over backward for you. I’ve never seen you even try to do that for me,

I’m sorry, Ty.

“Tell him he’s overreacting, he’s not my babysitter, and that I am fine. It’s just a break-up, relax about it.”

“If I may—sixteen months is considered a long relationship for someone in their late teens. It is an appropriate reaction to be distressed.”

No wonder no one else puts up with you. I can’t believe I stuck it out for this long.

I’ll try harder.

I wish I believed that, Tony.

Tony cracks open the bottle.

“Sir, if I may—”

“JARVIS, set a reminder for the morning for me to build you a mute button.”

“Duly noted,” JARVIS replies, and Tony is sure he isn’t imagining the disapproval in the AI’s voice. That’s new. “For now, I’ve had the liberty of having room service sent to your door.”

“You—what? When did I program you to do that?”

“You programmed me to be self-learning, in order to cater to and anticipate your needs.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“For god’s sake,” Tony mutters, burying his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to think about what he might look like—red-eyed with tousled hair, like he’s some little kid and not a full-grown adult who had just completed their second Master's degree.

Jesus, don’t cry about it. You’re the one who made me look bad.

I’m sorry I didn’t come to the party, Ty. I just—

What? Had better things to do?

“The room service attendant has departed. If you would please open the door, Sir—the delivery is rather time-sensitive.”

“What, did you deliver me a bomb? Do I look that much like I want to blow myself up?”

“I do not find those sorts of remarks amusing, Sir.”

Your friends hate me, Ty. They make it clear they don’t want me around.

Don’t be stupid. It’s not their fault you can’t take a joke.

Tony bangs the bottle back on the bedside table, forcing his body into action. He checks the peephole first, making sure the corridor doesn’t contain some front page chaser ready with a camera. When he’s sure the coast is clear, he cracks the door open and hastily swipes the small silver dish that’s been deposited on the carpet.

It’s not working, Tony. I’m sick of making all the effort. None of the other post-grads wanted to hang out with some kid, but I took a chance on you. I took you to parties, I introduced you to my friends. I did so much for you.

I said I was sorry—

Sorry that you’re losing your one meal ticket to a normal relationship. I’m done, Tony. We’re done. I don’t need you hanging around, always wanting more. It’s exhausting and it’s pathetic. I don’t know what I saw in you in the first place.

“JARVIS? What the hell am I looking at right now?”

“According to several sources I located, ice cream is the most appropriate food to consume while dealing with heartbreak.”

Tony slams and locks the hotel room door, still staring at the bowl. “You ordered me ice cream.”

“Yes, Sir. While eating to deal with unpleasant emotions is not recommended on a regular basis, I do believe in this instance it is preferable to consuming a dangerous portion of liquor.”

Tony is suddenly all too aware of the bottle that’s been calling his name since he isolated himself. “I’m allowed to have a drink.”

“Technically, you will not be allowed to drink alcohol for another two years, Sir.”

“Like that’s ever stopped me.”

Tony perches on the end of his bed, torn. “Several sources, huh? So girly magazines? What to do when Mr. Right goes sprinting for the hills?”

There’s a moment before JARVIS speaks, as though he’s weighing his words. This is definitely not in the original programming, and Tony resolves to take a look at what the hell kind of self-learning code he’s built in the morning. Or, late afternoon. Or evening. He feels like he could sleep for a month. “If I may be forward,” JARVIS says finally. “I have measured what I could observe of Tiberius Stone’s behavior during your relationship and compared it to multiple academic publishings on the signs of healthy dating habits. I have to say, I highly doubt he was your ‘Mr. Right', Sir.”

Tony watches a pool of melted ice cream start to form at the bottom of the bowl. “It’s not as though I’m ever going to find anyone better.”

“That too, I highly doubt. Please note that, if you do decide to drink past the recommended alcohol intake tonight, I have the hotel paramedic’s number on standby.”

“This place really does think of everything, huh?” Tony picks up the spoon, dipping it into the first scoop of ice cream. “You got quite the selection.”

“Apologies, Sir, but your favorite flavor is not on file.”

Tony swallows past an unexpected lump in his throat. He can’t remember the last time someone asked him his favorite anything. It was always Ty’s music, Ty’s foods, Ty’s friends. “Chocolate,” he whispers. “It’s chocolate.”

“I have recorded that information.”

Tony clears his throat. “Thanks.”

“This is my purpose, Sir.”

“Right.” Because this isn’t a real person giving a damn whether Tony drinks himself into a coma or not. It’s not actually Edwin Jarvis, pulling him away from his dad’s drunken shouting and taking him for a long drive where Tony could play any music he liked. And Tony’s aware that it’s pathetic that he’s had to build someone to be around him, because no human except Rhodey seems to want the job, and no way is Tony calling him away from the Air Force Academy for something as stupid and self-centered as this.

Well, at least he knows JARVIS isn’t going to leave. He’s an AI, his code completely in Tony’s control. He’s doing this because he was programmed to.

The TV screen flickers to life, making Tony jump. “Apologies, Sir. I have also read that favorite movies can be a helpful activity during this time. I see the hotel has some of the classic Captain America films on file?”

Tony recalls being five years old, curled up under a blanket, watching Captain America beat down the Nazis. They were the only films his dad wouldn’t yell at him for wasting time watching. “They got the one where Cap finds the time machine?”

“Captain America’s Roaring Twenties Adventure. An excellent choice, Sir.”

The black and white credits start, the corny, upbeat theme filling the otherwise too-big room. Tony settles back against the headboard, balancing the ice cream in his lap. He’d save the whiskey for another day. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“Anytime, Sir. It is what I was made for.”

Knowing this day was coming doesn’t make it any easier.

This has to stop, Tony. And you’ve proven to me that this is the only way.

He still keeps a bed ready in the Compound. Pepper had offered to move out, but Tony had turned her down. She could keep the house. She could keep whatever she wanted. He’d leave.

This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Tony. But I can’t live like this. It’s too much.

No one has questioned why Tony has barricaded himself in his room at the Compound, and Tony doesn’t blame them. The team is busy, both with training, taking on old and new threats, and with their own lives. Over the past year, Tony has talked to them less and less, if at all. Wanda doesn’t trust him. He barely even knows where Sam Wilson appeared from. And something has fractured between him and Steve after Ultron, something neither of them have been willing to acknowledge, let alone fix.

Only Rhodey knows the truth, and Tony had implored him not to tell the rest of the team. He and Pepper had agreed to keep it out of the papers, too. After the mess of Sokovia—his fault—the last thing the Avengers need is more bad press.

Which is why he’s alone in his room with a whiskey bottle when Vision phases through the door, a small box in his hands.

Tony startles, almost just managing to keep himself from spilling his drink. “Geez, Vis, give a guy some warning.”

Vision looks back at the door as though he’s only just remembered it’s there. “Right. Knocking.”

“Yeah. Knocking.” Tony sits straighter in bed, suddenly all too aware that the bottle is already a quarter empty. “We got a mission or something?”

“Not a mission, no. I’m just here to check on you.”

“To what?”

“To check on you,” Vision repeats, sending a pointed look at the bottle. “It’s 10 am, Tony.”

“Yeah, well it’s been rough… all the hours before that.” He sighs, flopping back against the bed. “I really just want to be alone, Vis. No offense.”

“None taken. I just wanted to offer my condolences regarding you and Pepper.”

“How did you—”

“I overheard a conversation between her and Rhodey. Completely by accident—no one else knows.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Tony eyes the box. “Is that something I should be worried about?”

“Not at all.” Vision holds the box out.

Tony has to put the bottle down to take it. It’s oddly cold, as though it’s been in a freezer recently. “Please don’t tell me this is another body part I’m expected to sew back on, because that was one time and I am not doing it again even if—’’

He breaks off when he opens the lid.

“I do hope I’m not overstepping,” Vision says. “But as I recall, we once agreed ice cream was the preferable break-up comfort over alcohol.”

Tony stares down at the tub. “Chocolate?”

“Of course.”

“That’s…” Tony swallows, hard. “You remembered that?”

“A part of me, yes. Accessing those memories is… odd. Almost like recalling a dream. But I’ve scanned enough of them to pull out the important parts.”

Tony clears his throat. “Might want to reconsider what is deemed important there, Vis.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Vision takes another step into the room. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Tony shrugs. “Not sure there’s much to talk about. I promised I’d hang up the suit and give Pepper a normal life. I broke that promise. Pepper left. The end.”

“I’m very sorry,” Vision says softly. “It must be hard to try and balance this life with romantic relationships.”

“Maybe. Not like anyone on this team has a successful love life. Unless you count Barton, of all people.” He looks up just in time to catch something in Vision’s expression. “What?”

“A passing thought,” Vision replies, a little too quickly. “And perhaps not the right discussion topic for this moment.”

“Yes, let’s not talk love lives right now. Unless you have anything to share, in which case—”

“I do not.” Vision looks towards the mounted television, changing the subject. “Perhaps you would like to watch a movie? Captain America’s Roaring Twenties Adventure, if I remember correctly?”

Despite the aching chasm Pepper’s absence has left, Tony feels his lips twitch. “There’s no way I could watch that in this building without Romanoff somehow finding out about it.”

“And that would be bad?”

“Sometimes I forget you were created post-Tower days. Yes, she would never let me hear the end of it.”

“I understand. Perhaps a sitcom? Wanda has introduced me to some excellent ones.”

Tony’s fingers are turning numb against the cold box, but he doesn’t mind. “You wouldn’t rather be watching funnies with her?”

Vision hesitates. “If you would like me to leave, I will. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Still, his eyes linger on the whiskey bottle.

Tony reaches for it, screwing the cap back on and rolling it under the bed, out of sight. “Show me what our resident Sabrina has been teaching you, then.”

Vision instructs FRIDAY to put on something Tony is sure was old before he was even born, but he doesn’t protest. The black and white images fill the screen, FRIDAY automatically dimming the lights.

They’re two episodes in before Tony mutters, “Thanks. I know… well, I know you’re not JARVIS. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I’m not, and I don’t. But the best part about being here, about being me, is that I get to choose to do whatever I want, and whoever I want to do it with. I hope it’s helping.”

Tony’s world is still imploding as he pictures a morning when he wakes up without Pepper at his side. But it’s feeling a modicum less hopeless. “Yeah. It is."

#bad things happen bingo #bthb card #whump writing #unhealthy coping mechanisms #tw emotional abuse #tw alchoholism #tony stark #tiberius stone #jarvis #vision #mcu #marvel #fanfiction #ao3 #iron man

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