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trb752 · 6 months

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1938 Bentley Rapide

Coach work by Frank Eeley

60° V12, 4.5 L, OHC, 180 hp, 5500 rpm

Lagonda G10 4-speed manual

0-60 mph 4.7 secs 110 mph top speed (116 Le Mans)

Participated in Le Mans 1938, 3rd place overall

#art deco #art deco design #art deco style #automotive #bentley #fast cars #cars #classic cars

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kwebtv · 1 month

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Susie Q - Disney Channel / Super RTL - October 3, 1996

Fantasy Comedy

Running Time: 90 minutes

Stars:

Amy Jo Johnson as Susie Q / Maggie

Ernie Prentice as Grandfather

Bentley Mitchum as Johnny Angel

Tasha Simms as Betsy Quinn

Allan Morgan as Russell Quinn

Shelley Long as Penny Sands

Justin Whalin as Zach Sands

Andrea Libman as Teri Sands

Garwin Sanford as Coach Stanford

Chris William Martin as Ray Kovich

Dale Wilson as Roger Kovich

Winston Brown as Brad

Sabrina Byrne as Rebecca Bahner

Mark Schooley as Telephone Repairman

Lloyd Berry as Al the Janitor

Benjamin Ratner as TV Director

Laura Harris as Jannete

Kirsten Robek as Production Assistant

Pat Waldron as Miss Crosby

David Kaye as Don Tanner

Walter Marsh as Old Man - ATM

Will Sasso as Officer Bob

Allan Franz as Rookie Cop

John Johnston as Announcer

Carolyn Spielmacher as Girl

Brian Arnold as James McGlockton

Rebecca Toolan as Mrs. Perkins

Aaron Pearl as Player

Cameron Labine as Thug

#Susie Q #TV #Disney Channel #1999 #1990's #Fantasy #Comedy #Justin Whalin #Amy Jo Johnson #Shelley Long #Andrea Libman #Garwin Sanford #Chris Martin #Bentley Mitchum

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homomenhommes · 3 months

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saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 80

J'ai très envie d'une voiture rapide et mes goûts me portent sur des modèles très onéreux, style Aston Martin, Bentley au pire Audi R8 !

Depuis que j'en ai fait part à mon entourage, Marc et quelques amis, je me suis heurté à l'image que cela renverrait de moi : au mieux fils à papa, au pire pute de luxe (ce qui est plus près de la réalité des choses je crois !). Ça m'énerve, c'est juste que ces voitures là sont quand même beaucoup plus belles qu'une vulgaire Renault !

Bon tout cela pour dire qu'il faut que j'engrange un peu plus de sous pour y arriver.

J'avais déjà dans l'idée de mettre Jean aux Gang Bang, projet qui l'avait séduit lui même depuis que je lui avais révélé que j'en avais organisé pour Ric. Peut être un peu de jalousie de sa part.

J'ai donc repris les listes d'amateurs que m'avais donné Eric et ai organisé pour les premiers participants une nouvelle soirée. Ils ont tous étés partants dès que j'ai annoncé que ce serait avec un nouveau jouet, plus fluet, typé plus jeune que Ric (bien que majeur).

J'ai donc pu organiser une nouvelle série et planifier les vendredis soir de 15 jours en 15 jours. Comme ça cela me laisse le WE libre même si je vais avoir un peu de mal à assurer avec son père le coaching du lendemain matin.

Je me suis assuré d'un tarif de location du gîte défiant toute concurrence, période hivernale creuse et engagement sur 12 vendredis. Le proprio voit aussi que les vendredi ça ne l'empêche pas de louer le WE qui suit.

La moto c'est bien mais pour emporter tout ce qu'il me faut, j'emprunte la voiture de Marc (qui lui du coup est obligé d'aller à son taf en moto). Le premier vendredi, je suis sorti pas trop tard du boulot et j'ai été chercher Jean qui rentrait juste de ses cours. Je suis tombé sur sa mère à qui nous avons monté un bateau pour avoir la paix. Je m'en suis sorti avec juste une pipe ! difficile de faire moins.

En rentrant à la maison, nous sommes passer chez le traiteur prendre la commande de l'apéritif dînatoire pour nos 10 clients. Pendant un bonne heure j'ai préparé Jean. Epilation, rasage, lavement et massage de son corps avec une huile pour adoucir encore plus sa peau, préparation de son anus à un pilonnage intense.

Nous sommes arrivés vers 20h au gîte. Jean m'a aidé à tout mettre en place pendant que je lui expliquait en quelques mots ce qui allait se passer, le type de mec qui allait venir, et le comportement qu'il devrait avoir (soumis, obéissant, muet à par quelques gémissements autorisés...). Il était déjà tout excité et sa petite bite glabre bandait raide. Une fois le décorum prêt, je l'envoyais à la salle de bain se mettre nu et je suis allé le retrouver pour finaliser la préparation de son trou. Nouveau lavement (un seul suffit, c'était juste une précaution), graissage et reprise de la dilatation commencée plus tôt puis les 21h approchant, je lui mis un bon demi tube de gel directement au fond de ses boyaux. Des " invités ", pas un ne fait moins de 24cm x6 !!

Je venais juste de l'installer à 4 pattes sur la table basse centrée dans la pièce principale que les premières voitures sont arrivées. En 5mn tous étaient là.

Je n'avais pas fini de servir les apéritifs que les plus impatients s'attaquaient à la proie du jour. Ausculté sous tous les angles, Jean a été tâté, palpé, pincé et pour les plus vicieux doigté. Le mieux monté de la soirée, s'est préoccupé de ses capacités et j'ai vu qu'il enfonçait trois doigts de sa mains droite dans la bouche de Jean, poussant pour atteindre le fond de gorge et voir si il allait vomir. Comme Jean subissait sans se plaindre et sans haut le coeur, il a fait de même à l'autre extrémité de son tube digestif. Ce fut encore plus facile vu la préparation que j'avais faite.

3/4 heure après leurs arrivés, tous les mecs étaient à poil et je faisais une première distribution de Kpote. Pendant 2h, ça a été sa " fête " j'ai compté, il n'y a pas eu 5mn ou un de ses deux trou n'ait été bouché. Mes " invités " se sont succédés qui dans la bouche (plutôt la gorge), qui au fond de son cul. Je surveillais que tout se fasse sans violence et les sodos sous Kpote.

De sa position à 4 pattes, il s'est retrouvé sur le dos, puis plié sur un dossier de fauteuil, assis sur un mec, suçant un autre avec une bite dans chaque main... J'ai juste stoppé le plus excité de la bande qui voulait lui faire subir des doubles sodo. Avec des tailles de bite pareilles, ils me l'auraient définitivement cassé !!

Je me suis aperçu aussi que le plus membré de la bande était plus sensible que les autres aux charmes de la finesse du corps de Jean. Quand c'était son tour, une certaine sensualité / douceur prenait la place de l'assouvissement bestial des autres participants. Ce n'est pas pour autant qu'il ne se faisait pas enfiler jusqu'aux couilles de ce monsieur qui les avaient (les couilles) assez grosse. Je dirais proportionnées à ses 26 x 7,5 ! D'ailleurs les autres s'en étaient inconsciemment aperçu car à ces moments là, ils ne touchaient plus à Jean se contentant de se branler en cercle autour d'eux.

Il a fini aspergé de sperme les dix mecs étant arrivés à se retenir jusqu'au bout, l'on recouvert de la bite jusqu'à la tête que j'ai juste eu le temps de protéger d'une serviette éponge.

Alors que tous les autres étaient déjà partis, le mec (26x 7,5) est revenu me voir. J'envoyais Jean se laver pour rester seul avec lui.

Il voulait savoir combien lui coûterait une exclusivité sur Jean. Sa question m'a surpris, je ne m'attendais pas à cela.

Je lui ai expliqué que c'était son premier Gang Bang et qu'il en avait une bonne demi douzaine de plus à assurer, qu'à part cela, il avait quelques " amis " aussi bien montés que lui qui avaient besoin de ses services.

Je l'ai vu un peu déçu. Il a réfléchi quelques instant avant de me demander quand Jean pourrait être libre pour lui. Dans un premier temps, avant d'en savoir plus sur ce type, je lui ai proposé de l'inclure dans la liste des mercredi après midi (comme j'avais perdu les deux frères au profit de Luc et Phil, que le père de Ric avait assez à s'occuper avec son fils et que celui de Pierre faisait moins appel à nous depuis qu'il avait retrouvé une sexualité avec sa femme, il ferait un nouveau 5ème).

Il me dit Ok pour le moment et qu'il allait réfléchir à une meilleur solution.

Enfin parti, je me suis occupé de mon petit Jean. Il avait pris une douche pour éliminer le sperme collé. Je lui ai fait prendre un bain. A genoux à ses coté, armé qu'un gant de toilette je le massais doucement. Je lui demandais comment il avait trouvé cela lui qui était si impatient. Il me dit qu'il avait pris un super pied et qu'il avait jouit plus de trois fois sans se toucher. Quand je lui demandais (pour la forme) si il était prêt à remettre ça dans 15 jours, il me dit oui. Je lui demandais ce qu'il avait pensé de la plus grosse bite de la soirée. Il me dit avoir apprécié sa sensualité. Ça lui avait fait des petites pauses entre les autres mecs avides de son corps. Je lui dis alors que ce serait un nouveau régulier du mercredi car il était mordu de son corps. Ça l'a fait sourire.

Je le séchais puis avant qu'il ne se rhabille je lui enfilais un plug de travail pour qu'il resserre son anneau dessus. Il doit être capable de prendre large mais je veux qu'il garde une capacité à pouvoir serrer des bites normales.

JARDINIER

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enbysiriusblack · 4 months

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why does my son look like his football coach? and crush!!!

why does my son look like his football coach:

jegulily fic but james and lily had hari as late teens after a one night stand and lily gave him up for adoption. only for regulus to end up adopting him. and after leaving london with hari, he puts hari in a kids football club and slowly starts falling for the coach and reporter whos doing a piece on the club.

snippet:

Regulus sighed, unpacking would take forever. But at least he wasn’t stuck in London any longer. He rolled Hari onto the sofa, and stretched his arms to get started. His phone pinned with an email, and he scrambled for his phone, a distraction from having to unpack. He frowned for a moment at the mobile phone, until managing to open up the small letter icon and clicked the new email he had gotten. From his therapist. Fuck’s sake. The email detailed a reminder for their first session he had foolishly booked for today. In just under two hours. Regulus turned to Hari, and pulled up google. Searching for kid’s Sunday activities in Durham. He scrolled through various articles of playgrounds, a train museum, whatever a deer park was, and go ape. Before landing on something Hari would love and that Regulus didn’t need to be there for. Youth Football.

crush:

lilene au of the film 'crush'. lily has had a crush on james for years now, and after being blamed for vandalism on school property, she has a chance to spend more time with him. only to end up falling for someone else. (& wolfstar are constantly all over each other the entire fic)

snippet:

Lily Evans had a crush. A crush that was completely out of her league. A crush that drove to school in a Bentley convertible whilst blasting Little Mix, and strutted down the corridor, without a care in the world. Friendly, handsome, incredibly charming and extremely out of her league. But crushes didn't magically disappear, and as James Potter grinned, walking towards her, Lily couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach from flying around in a flurry. "Hey, Evans. How was your weekend?" The grin set on his face, his eyes seeming to sparkle, and Lily opened her mouth with no words coming to her brain. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, "James." "Remus", James nodded, "You two excited for the party this week?" Marlene came out of the toilets before Lily could speak, grabbing James' sleeve, ignoring the other two as usual, and pulled him down the corridor. "I guess I'll see you both later!" He waved, that grin still there. Remus patted Lily's head, sympathetically, "You really need to get over this crush."

#ask game #beloved mutuals <3 #jegulily #lilene #my wips

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elsanna-shenanigans · 5 months

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November/October 2023 Contest Submission #8: Old Rivalry

Words: 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: some violence

The two high school swimmers couldn’t have been more different.

Elsa, with elegant movements gliding through the pool like an eel, and Anna - broad shoulders powering through the water like a shark after its prey. Despite Elsa’s perpetual triumphs in training, courtesy of long limbs and all the unwavering support from nurturing parents, she never finished without glancing behind her, ensuring she kept at least a foot ahead of Anna’s relentless pursuits. But when it came to competition, Anna’s grim determination consistently overcame Elsa’s genetic gifts, and they came down to the wire more than once.

“You’re teammates, not competitors,” the coach reminded them, as Anna stared Elsa down following a particularly heated race where she got the better of her.

The sneer on Anna’s face faded as she sat on the concrete steps outside the venue. She watched Elsa give one last scowl at her, before her blonde ponytail disappeared into an awaiting Bentley. Medal-less. Anna looked at her medal, the gleaming gold suddenly feeling like a scrap of metal, before getting on her bicycle and cycling home. She ate canned spaghetti for dinner, knowing her mother wouldn’t be home until after midnight from her second job. Eventually, Anna fell asleep on the tattered couch watching NCAA replays, minutes before the heating died from unpaid bills.

The two girls couldn’t have taken more different paths.

“I told you, I don’t need a scholarship,” Elsa argued over the dining table, “I’m not that good anyway, Anna Sullivan smoked my ass at that last meet, and doesn’t our family have enough money anyway?”

It was useless arguing with her parents. They left her in the expanse of their dining hall; PRINCETON SWIM/DIVE TEAM brochure unopened on the marble table. Elsa looked out the balcony at the immense pool they built for her. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to force out the words “you don’t deserve this” from her head, and the residual memory of Anna overtaking her. Maybe a swim will clear my head.

Instead of a sprawling mansion, or athletic scholarships, Anna found herself in the only place a girl of her socioeconomic status could count on: the Navy Recruiter’s office.

“I’m good at swimming, sir - and I’ve always loved the water, so the Navy’s my best bet, I guess-”

He looked up from her Physical Screening scores, at the freckled girl seated primly before him, and raised an eyebrow.

“Good? Your scores are better than most of the dudes coming here! Why aren’t you looking for an athletic scholarship?”

Anna’s voice broke into a stutter, “M-my family isn’t doing too well, and we need-”

“Well, the Navy’s a great way to earn some money and see the world, though these scores are wasted on the run-of-the-mill jobs we have. Would you be interested in combat diving? It’s a long training pipeline and there aren’t any females, you’ll be among the first.”

A poster on the wall called out to her. NAVY SEALS, FULFIL YOUR PURPOSE. She would be the first. Just like how she was first ahead of Elsa.

Only one thought remained in her head.

“Sir,” Anna said, twiddling her thumbs, “D-does that job pay well?”

The two women couldn’t have endured more different hardships.

The Princeton pool was barely illuminated by the orange glow from a giant GO TIGERS titantron. Stroke after stroke, lap after lap, Elsa propelled herself through the water, spurred on by the D1 Championships banners floating above her like an ominous prophecy. In a week she had a meet, and then another two next month, before conference championships, and Olympic trials. The never-ending cycle of training and competition wore down on her lithe, athletic body, but in that moment, gliding through the darkness like she was in space, all Elsa saw was that red-headed girl catching up to her.

“Stop swimming and go home!” her coach yelled from the bleachers, barely audible underwater, “You have all day tomorrow-”

No, Elsa thought, kicking off the edge for one more lap, imaginary Anna Sullivan in hot pursuit, No I don’t.

Instead of an imaginary figure to motivate her, Anna faced a very real mouthful of sand the instructors kicked onto her face as she lay inches deep in the freezing Californian surf. Rows of shivering men lay beside her, arms linked, teeth clattering as the waves pounded them relentlessly.

“You’re dreaming if you think a girl’s gonna get off easy!” an instructor yelled, dumping a bucket of seawater on her face, “in fact, we’re going to make it even harder!”

“Aye-aye petty off-” Anna hollered back, before another wave washed the words from her mouth.

A loudhailer’s squawk screeched in her ears, “Attention, none of you are giving up. This makes us very angry. Flutter kicks until somebody quits.”

At once, the cadence rang out against the pounding surf. 1-2-3-ONE! 1-2-3-TWO!

Delirious from the frigid exhaustion, Anna looked up and saw Elsa in every one of the instructors’ positions, mocking and jeering her for choosing this path. Her legs burned from the exercise, and a fire was brewing in her belly - but all it took was another incoming wave to quench the torment boiling within her.

The two women couldn’t have achieved more different honours.

Perched on the starting block at the Rio 100m Butterfly finals, Elsa made out a row of stoic-faced competitors staring back at each other. Instead of swimmers from Australia, Russia, Italy, or China - all she saw were copies of Anna Sullivan glaring back at her, daring her to mistime her start. The thought nearly made her miss the buzzer as she leapt into the pool, propelling herself through the water like she did her entire life. This time, there was no Anna Sullivan , only Elsa Williams paddling furiously as she fended off a last ditch attack by China. The crowd’s cheering blew past the thumping in her ears as she looked up and saw “ELSA WILLIAMS - OR” in golden letters. Covering her mouth, Elsa choked back tears. Hoping to hell that woman’s still somewhere in Connecticut watching her on TV.

I fucking did it, you bitch.

Anna, however, was not watching TV. She was wading knee-deep in a Florida swamp on the final leg of qualifications. Drenched from head to toe in muddy rainwater and carrying a 150lb man on her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, she made out the dirt track, but her knees were near breaking point.

Sensing her strength ebbing away, the man on her back growled, “C’mon Anna! You ain’t come this far.”

Damn straight I ain’t.

Emerging from the water, Anna’s lungs heaved fire as she picked up her pace. Running on fumes. She spotted cameras near the finish line, their presence reminding her that she would be the first female Navy SEAL.

There was nothing left within Anna but shreds of gaspy breaths and her pride as she crossed the finish line and dropped him like a sack of bricks. She collapsed face-first into the mud, cameras flashing at her. An Admiral pressed the SEAL badge in her palm, whispering, “I wouldn’t give this to any woman but you-”

His words were lost in her consciousness as she stared at the rain pelting her face. Somehow, wishing Elsa would be watching and realising what a weak-ass bitch she was.

The two women couldn’t have pursued more different lives.

It was only natural that Elsa found herself in Academia, studying the Physics behind the movement of fluids over solid surfaces. The disciplined training and long hours in the pool translated well into tedious laboratory work and endless seminars as she sought to make a name for herself in a different field. Fascinated by the hydrodynamics of marine wildlife and inspired by a life spent gliding through water, she completed two doctorates by the age of thirty. The latter having been bought by the Maersk Shipping Corporation, to better design ship hulls for fuel efficiency. By day, Elsa stared at rainbow-coloured water streams in the testing tank she built. Her dreams each night were filled with visions of the sea, every wave and tide struggling to free themselves from the physics she’d caged them into.

None of this would have mattered, save for one last unsolved problem in fluid dynamics legend: the Navier-Stokes equations. The fundamental formula which all fluids abide by, used in countless simulations and validations and governing everything from a stream’s trickle to a Tsunami’s fury. This last enigma eluded the community for decades, and Elsa threw herself at it, like it was the last thing left in her life to conquer.

Anna, by this time, was already used to a life of conquest. Deploying with increasing frequency to Marine combat zones around the world, she tackled every mission with as much bravery as her diminutive frame could muster. Pirates, drug traffickers, terrorists - all fell prey to her stealthy approach from the waters, usually in the dead of the night. In the back of her mind, she had a feeling the higher-ups deliberately kept her away from riskier land missions. Sticking her onto boats easier for a smaller frame to infiltrate. But Anna still enjoyed the Maritime Operations, even if they were conducted on the inky black tides, as she knew there’d always be a breathtaking sunrise over the sea after each mission.

Until one day, her luck ran out, and a Cartel trafficker with more bullets than sense blasted his rifle at her boarding team. A fragment struck her helmet, pinging off the metal plate and flashing before her eyes. She fired at him, but the grenade had already slipped from his hands. Shoving her teammate out the door, the blast hurled her through the window, and the world went silent. She saw blood streaming from her leg before she felt any sort of pain. In that moment - being hauled off the boat, Anna felt weaker than she did after rucking 22 miles. Shutting her eyes as her leg went numb, Anna pondered if there was anything else in this life worth living for.

The question stuck in her head as medics fought to stem the bleeding in the helicopter. Gazing at the dolphins frolicking in the azure waves below, Anna settled on an answer, before her eyes fluttered shut.

“For her work in analytical fluid dynamics and the discovery of the Williams-Smithson effect over hydrofoil surfaces, Princeton University is proud to confer upon ELSA WILLIAMS, the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.”

“For extraordinary bravery serving as point woman on a VBSS mission off the coast of Barranquilla, Colombia. The Secretary of the Navy is proud to award PO2 ANNA SULLIVAN, the Navy Cross for her actions in subduing a Cartel trafficker and saving a teammate’s life despite sustaining life-threatening wounds.”

“You work too hard,” Kristoff muttered, pointing at the clock. It was past midnight, and Elsa had fallen asleep on a stack of papers. The other professor waved a feeble goodbye, mumbling, “Maybe a swim will clear your mind.”

Elsa stared at her computer until the letters faded into one another, and none of them brought her any closer to a solution.

He’s right, maybe a swim will clear my mind.

The next day, Elsa did an uncharacteristically impulsive thing and packed her bags for a trip to the Bahamas. But alas, fate would have other plans for her.

“Bahamian law doesn’t allow you to dive on your own,” the hotel concierge reminded, “too many tourists damaging the corals. You have to follow a dive guide.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Elsa gently inquired for the nearest one and was directed to a spot on the beach. The broken driftwood sign stuck into the sand marked Sullivan Dive Tours barely registered in Elsa’s mind. But the figure crouched by the boat did. Matted, pigtailed red hair gleaming in the sunrise, sunglasses, cigarette dangling from her lips, undone wetsuit hanging from her hips, exposing bare muscular shoulders with a tapestry of Navy tattoos telling a story of the life she’d spent away.

The realisation that solitary figure scrubbing the fibreglass hull was Anna slammed into Elsa’s chest. At once, she turned and walked away, only for a voice to call out.

“Elsa?”

For the first time in forever, Elsa couldn’t think of an answer. Frozen into the wet sand, she waited until the voice came again.

“Elsa - that’s you isn’t it?”

She turned, coming face to face with Anna’s eyes. Turquoise and glimmering despite having seen too much.

“Look at you!” Anna exclaimed, her voice gentle like how Elsa remembered, “The hometown hero!”

The thought of being called a hero by a woman who was the living embodiment of one, stole the words from her lips.

“A-aren’t you in the Navy?” Elsa asked.

“I got wounded on a mission. It was either working in an office or a Medical discharge,” Anna answered, pointing at her thigh, “but I love the water so much, I couldn’t bear being behind a desk, so - here I am.”

Elsa nodded, before edging away from the girl, unsure of how to deal with the vague feeling churning within her. Eyes swept across the toned muscles on Anna’s torso. Elsa bit down on her lip, before muttering, “Nice seeing you again, Anna-”

“Let’s go for a swim!” Anna suggested, pointing at the dive gear by Elsa’s feet, “I mean, assuming that’s what you’re in the Bahamas for-”

Caught like a fish before a shark, Elsa stiffened up as Anna stood on tiptoes and whispered into her ear.

“Unless you’re scared of me beating your ass again-”

A buzzing feeling Elsa forgot existed surged through her veins. Blue eyes widened in the sunlight, before narrowing on that smirk plastered over Anna’s face. It took five seconds for Elsa to load her gear onto the boat, and another ten seconds for Anna to launch into the rippling currents. The boat lurched as it tore through the surf, foamy spray lending a glittering sheen to Elsa’s blonde braid. For once, Anna couldn’t tear her gaze from Elsa’s slender figure reclining on the bench, but she still cut a relaxed posture as they approached the dive site.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Elsa avoided Anna’s eyes as she helped her with the wetsuit. She detected a tremble in her fingers as they pulled up her zipper, but told herself it was just the rocking of the boat.

“They put your picture up on the Ridgefield Walmart wall of heroes,” Elsa said, trying to cut the tension between them.

No shit, Anna thought, locking eyes with Elsa, wasn’t your face on every cereal box in America for a month?

Anna rolled her eyes, muttering, “Fuck, I told them not to do that-”

Perching on the boat’s edge, Anna smirked at Elsa, mouthing off, “See you on the bottom, Williams!” before dumping herself into the clear blue waters. At once, Elsa leapt in, eyes widening at how far her guide was ahead.

Goddamn she’s fast.

The old-seated competitive nature between them was lost as Anna took her on a voyage to another world. They found sea turtles swimming with manta rays, baby octopi in underwater caves, and endless schools of fish weaving through the corals. There were shipwrecks and plane wrecks on the sea bed, vestiges of history reminding them of all the time they’ve lost over the years. Throughout the dive, every time Anna turned to look back, Elsa would glide past, amazing the girl with her elegant strokes. Despite her Olympic pedigree, Elsa found herself struggling to keep up with Anna’s boundless energy.

At the final surface, they clutched each other’s shoulders, bobbing beneath the setting sun. Breathless from exhilaration and realising they both found something they’d thought lost to time.

“Dammit woman,” Anna gasped, seawater sputtering from her lips, “you haven’t slowed down one bit-”

“I hope your leg’s holding up fine,” Elsa commented, brushing the wet hair from Anna’s eyes, just so she’d be able to look into them again.

Elsa tried not to let the compliment show on her face as she allowed Anna to help her on deck. Fingertips brushed against her wet skin as Anna helped her out of the suit, and she resisted blushing at the thought of them trailing along her spine again. Cracking open a beer from the cooler, Anna freed her hair in a fan of copper against the sunlight. Somehow, the salty breeze, squawk of seagulls and the gentle rocking of the sea, had an effect of stripping all pretence and rivalry from Elsa.

She hesitated, heart pounding like the waves, before realising she’d never get another chance in twenty years.

“Maybe I was wrong about you,” Elsa admitted, staring straight at Anna, “I saw you as a rival, but only because I wanted something else. With you.”

Anna shifted closer, offering Elsa her beer. Their fingertips grazed, and their eyes met; in that moment, acknowledging the role each other had in pushing them down the paths they’d chosen. The alcohol seeped into Anna’s mind, and she wasted no time in letting her thoughts known.

“I resented you so much because you had everything I didn’t,” Anna replied, ruffling a hand through her hair, “I was so angry because I couldn’t follow the footsteps of someone I admired so much. I couldn’t know what it’s like to fulfill my purpose because I didn’t have what you had-”

“I didn’t have everything,” Elsa interrupted, blue eyes locked on Anna’s, “I didn’t have you.”

Without another word, Anna leaned forward and captured the woman’s lips with her own. Elsa shut her eyes and savoured the sea’s salty taste on Anna’s lips, the one thing that separated and drew them together at the same time. As Anna pulled away, the endless depths of Elsa’s eyes mesmerised her to no end; cerulean like the oceans she’d fallen in love with, and the thought sent her leaning for another kiss. But not before she laid bare her soul again.

“Now you do.”

#elsanna #October 2023 contest #prompt: water #submission #cw: violence

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billthedrake · 1 year

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I originally posted this story here but have expanded it a bit in this version:

A Week with Coach M

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diabolus1exmachina · 2 years

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Bentley 6 1/2 Litre‘Dartmoor’ Straight

It is an exceptional car that uses a 1950 Bentley as a foundation and a huge 6.5 Litre, ‘Straight 8′ engine that was developed towards the end of WW2 for military and commercial purposes. This particular engine was originally gas-powered but has since been converted to run on unleaded petrol, which is delivered via a quartet of 1½” SU carburettors. With a Bentley S2 Continental supplying the rear axle and a Bentley gearbox, the car is the epitome of engineering brilliance.The body is an exquisite design by coach-builder, Bob Petersen. A company renowned for the rebuilding, restoration and recreation of classic Bentley motor cars. Heavily influenced by the beautiful vehicles of the late thirties, the end result being a unique and very special piece of motoring art that will never be replicated.Finished in a glorious shade of Oxford blue, complimented by an art-deco inspired St James red hide interior, the vehicle provides a ultimate definition of the word class.

#Bentley 6 #Bentley S2 Continental

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tjkl895 · 1 month

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Coach Bentley (https://www.instagram.com/p/C3D4DFXR-Xz/?img_index=1) (https://twitter.com/AppWrestling/status/1753565759962268081) (https://twitter.com/AppWrestling/status/1753587405892861965)

#john mark bentley #coach bentley #coach #appalachian state university #app state wrestling #appwrestling #mountaineers #wrestling #wrestling singlet #singlet #black

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mrs-trophy-wife · 1 year

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#Bentley #coach light #red #car #luxury

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

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This morning we saw a castle in Connecticut for $60M. Well, if you like a more modern mansion with some fun theme rooms, a cheaper alternative in Orlando, Florida just dropped. Check this out for only $15M.

The grand entrance. While the castle was dark, Gothic, & maximalist, this is a little too white and minimalist for me. It’s nice but it could look amazing with color on the walls.

It has the requisite grand staircase.

This spa room is kind of surreal.

A jungle-y hall leads to a child’s bedroom.

The bedroom has an elaborate space ship theme.

Including the en suite.

The arts & crafts/playroom has a giant Etch-A-Sketch.

Check out the Cinderella bedroom. Some children are, by accident of birth, born to filthy rich parents. I would’ve been happy with a few better genetic traits.

Why is there a coach in the bathroom? Is the toilet in there, do ya think?

The golf simulation room is guarded.

The home theater. Hooray for Hollywood.

This lounge looks like a hotel.

I first thought there were 2 kitchens here, but the one on the right is a bar.

This pantry is bigger than most kitchens.

Very large kitchen. Personally, I like things to be closer.

Covered outdoor dining space.

The dining room ceiling is nice, but there’s no fireplace, china cabinet, sideboard, just a table and chairs.

This must be a family room.

Nice shower room.

Hall leading to the main bedroom.

So beige.

Humongous en suite.

In the closet there’s a shelf unit dedicated to sunglasses & one for black footwear and accessories. Such organization.

There are 7 huge bedrooms and 12 baths in the house.

This is a nice home office.

Out by the pool.

Service window for the bar.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/9200-Bentley-Park-Cir-Orlando-FL-32819/46248258_zpid/

#mansions #modern mansion #theme rooms #long post

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 1 year

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I’ve been trying to avoid Good Omens season 2 spoilers (I find speculating more fun than peeking ahead) but some stuff has managed to sneak through. Last night my brain decided to slam it all together into a dream about the first few minutes of season 2 and ummmmm

You know what yes I would totally watch an entire season of apocalypse-adjacent shenanigans interrupting Aziraphale and Crowley’s wedding day so that they’re forced to deal with all that but also get their wedding back on track. Having Aziraphale start off already pregnant was I think a jump too far like there’s a lot of emotions involved there to just brush over but maybe that would be covered in a flashback episode. The Tadfield redesign was weird and way too American and not sure why the Bentley was swapped for a huge fancy horse drawn coach maybe that was wedding related??? Also I’m not sure why Crowley vanished but the music was ominous 👀 up until it turned into the Tetris music and I woke up trying to remember Cold War-era Russian history.

Oh and Muriel was cool apparently someone warned her that offering Aziraphale food was the way to get on his good side cuz she brought cookies and it 100% worked.

(This is probably the most coherent dream I’ve had all year it was wild.)

#good omens #good omens season 2 #absolute nonsense #ineffable husbands #good omens prime #weird dreams #yeah some of my fanfic got mixed in there

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ghostsbrokenbyfairytales · 5 months

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[The Champion]. Please welcome [Malcolm Reese (He/Him)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [36]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [THE COMMUNE]. You may see them around working as a [Trainer @ Abs-olute Gym]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

FULL NAME: Malcolm Reese FACECLAIM: Michael B Jordon HEIGHT: 6'0 AGE: 36 DOB: July 1st OCCUPATION: Trainer @ Abs-olute Gym ROLE: Neither IDENTITY: He/Him ORIENTATION: Bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

Biography

was born in huntsville and from a young age has always had a trouble controlling his temper. he was never physical with anyone unless the other person started a fight with him then he would and because of his mouth that happened more often than intended. middle school was when his parents decided he needed an outlet for his anger and signed him up for boxing lessons out of town.

the lessons helped a lot, turns out he really liked boxing and stopped using it as an outlet and instead was doing it because he genuinely enjoyed it. his parents supported him in it because they noticed how he had a better attitude about everything in life and his temper was no longer a concern for anyone except opponents.

high school was when he got more serious about it and talked to his coach about doing actual fights instead of sparring with other people at the gym he was attending. with his parents permission he was allowed to do just that, losing most of them in the beginning but it only gave him motivation to get better and practice more. the more matches he did the more he realized he wanted to make this into a career so he did the moment he was eighteen.

he didn't move out of town until a year after when his career started picking up and he was able to actually start making money from matches. his goal was making it to the world championship which he'd made it to a few times but lost short almost every single time, until this last year.

his opponent for this years was Kane Bentley and though Malcolm tried his best he still ended up loosing, yet another world championship lost. he was pissed and immediately went back into training for his next fight but recently he'd found out that the reason he lost was because Kane had used a performance enhancer drug to win finding out that malcolm was now the champion.

to say he was pissed was an understatement but his end goal really was to win that fight and though not winning right then and there wasn't a good feeling he decided to take some time off to go back home to visit family. he'd regularly send cards and letters home along with calls and texts that were all unanswered and as much as he wanted to go back home to figure out why that was his training and schedules always conflicted with that.

he's only been back home for two months as of now and picked up a job as a trainer at the gym so he could continue his own training workout while also teaching others who might want to do the same. whether it's just working out, boxing lessons, getting/staying in shape etc.

#malcolm:bio #huntsvilleintro

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pcrfectillusicn · 10 months

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reply for @dearxeden from this starter ( xx )

Hazel's affiliations and how they linked to her career were common knowledge. Defending criminals wasn't a commendable job, but it paid more than her bills; it allowed her the life Hazel had always dreamed about. Hazel had worked for Kate for a long time. Unlike the other clients, though, Hazel enjoyed Kate's presence and admired the way she ruled her kingdom. Due to that adoration, Hazel decided it was time to make a house call. Pulling up to Kate's estate, a soft breath was released, calming the sudden anxieties. Calling her client wasn't an option; Hazel wasn't sure if Kate's rivals were listening in on her office lines, let alone her home line.

"Sorry about that, Kate. You know I'm not one to make unannounced house calls unless it is absolutely necessary," Hazel answered after exiting her brand new Bentley bought after her latest win. Standing tall before her client, she held her expensive Coach bag tightly and tried not to allow her heel to sink into the dirt. "Can we talk?" Hazel nodded toward the house. "Preferably inside."