#Temple contractor

[body-as-a-home]

you are 10,000% correct, damn 🥰

Guy who has wandered through the halls and corridors of your body not with any special kind of love but with the untold intimacy of a contractor assessing the damages and potentials voice: right, so the main issue here is that the body is currently a temple, okay, and what we want is for it to be a home, cause temples are pretty and all and occasionally nice to be in if you're into that sort of thing but very few people would actually want to live in one. So what we're gonna do first is you're gonna take a look at what's here, the carrying walls and windows and all that, and you're going to come up with something you'd actually like to be alive inside of, and it's going to be a lot of work and it's going to feel strange and stupid and embarrassing but you're still gonna do it, because otherwise this construction site is fucked. And maybe what you want to live in is a skatepark or an anime-themed cat cafe or an esoteric library that has a dildo section for some reason, so it might feel like it's a downgrade from a temple, but it's actually the opposite cause the main customer for a body is you and the main customer for a temple are templegoers and maybe higher powers of some kind, - i wouldn't know about those, they never hired me, - not the temple itself, which is what you are, right, cause the body/mind/soul separation doesn't actually do anything, so what you're gonna do is look at the current layout and dig out whatever hope and ability to want you have and come up with a blueprint, and then my boys can actually get to work. Oh, and you have got to change the windows, it's drafty as fuck in here.

[sahestatellc]

Temple Contractors Dubai

SAH Estate LLC stands out among Temple Contractors Dubai, specializing in the construction of beautiful and culturally significant temples. Our expert team combines traditional techniques with modern design to deliver exceptional quality and craftsmanship. For reliable service and expertise, contact us at ☎ +971 54 340 3066 to discuss your temple project!

[marbletemples]

Tips to Choose India’s Top Outdoor Marble Temple Contractor

India is a land that is filled with many riches. However, if asked for one thing that stands out, then it would be the spirituality that is filled in every corner of this country. Now, this rich spiritual heritage is often reflected in the stunning outdoor marble temples that grace this landscape. But how does this work? How is the marble God Statue constructed and placed in these temples? Through a outdoor marble temple contractor, of course. Now, the real question is how to choose the top contractor for your work. Here, we have tackled just that.

[mynattinsurance-blog]

Need To Buy Commercial Insurance in Tampa and Westchase, FL

Living the American dream necessitates being in charge of life. Unfortunately, being employed by the government and private companies entails doing as the superior wants. Most Americans are, therefore, interested in starting their businesses. A small business may work admirably for individuals equipped with certain skills and adept at man management. Protecting one’s finances by preventing unexpected expenses can be effective in organizing the business too. The best possible way to achieve such an objective is to consider buying contractor insurance in Tampa and Temple Terrace, FL, especially when the concerned individual works for multiple entities in an independent capacity. ​ Small contractors working independently as 1099 workers benefit significantly by purchasing the coverage. The insurance protects the contractors from the associated risks helping them to save money. There is not a single coverage that covers all sorts of risks, however. Instead, the contractor may have to simultaneously consider several small business plans to remain free from anxiety. Some of the essential insurance coverage that a contractor needs to buy include:- General Liability- This helps the contractor to stay protected when accused of causing injury or damage to property belonging to a third party. The insurance company will also compensate the concerned party for libel, slander, and loss of reputation. Apart from paying the due compensation to the party making the complaint, the carrier also bears the legal costs associated with defense in a court of law. Professional Liability- The contractor usually needs to be covered for professional liability as the individual provides services for a fee. Also known as errors and omissions insurance, it protects the contractor from damage caused due to an error while providing the service. This particular coverage is indispensable to stay protected from claims by the user. It includes the following instances and more: · Inadvertent mistakes made while performing the professional service · Breach of contracts and agreements · Negligence resulting in damage to the client · Not meeting the timeline as specified The contractor may have to consider several other options apart from the ones mentioned above that, include: · Commercial property insurance –This type of insurance is essential for contractors who use specialized equipment and/or materials to perform the services. It is also important for contractors who work out of the rented property or retail space · Commercial auto insurance – This coverage is necessary for independent contractors who use their vehicles for delivery or performing the services · Business interruption insurance – Closure of the business due to unavoidable circumstances is covered by insurance too. This includes sudden interruption due to a natural disaster or other reasons beyond the control of the contractor · Cyber liability insurance- Professionals who work independently may consider being protected from internet-based complaints. Contractors who deal with sensitive data on behalf of their clients will have the insurance carrier paying for damages arising due to cyber attacks by hackers and loss of software A business owner can ensure peace of mind by opting for commercial insurance in Tampa and Westchase, FL, that covers the risks associated with the particular business operations

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

---------------------------------

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

-------------------------

Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

----------------------------

In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

-----------------------------

Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

-------------------------------

After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

-------------------------------

Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[covetyou]

first steps

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: cuck!Joel x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cuckolding, daddy kink, unprotected PIV, creampie, cuddle!fucking!, kinda premature ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, reader gets a brief foot rub, mention of male OC, ddlg vibes, established relationship. word count: 3.6k summary: You can't get thoughts of him out of your head, and Joel does nothing (or everything?) to help matters.

A/N: this takes place at the start of cuck!Joel's adventures in being cucked. they're on a journey of self discovery here folks. I daresay this is almost sweet and soft. look at me go. I'm growing as a person. follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

You're in bed already; teeth brushed, washed up, and those god forsaken shoes off of your aching feet, waiting for Joel and his promised foot rub. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, made longer still by the ache cramping your toes.

You huff to yourself - patience not being your strong suit when it came to Joel - and throw yourself back into the pillows. You were quite happily getting handsy downstairs, palming his erection through his dress pants when his phone had rang. At 11pm on a Friday. You'd rolled your eyes at him, pulling away as he swatted at your ass. It was a work call he said. He had to take it.

"I'll be up as soon as I can, baby," he called after you, and you had stuck out your tongue at him before disappearing up the stairs, shoes in hand.

It was okay, you figured. You'd spent the best part of the night mildly tormented. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt. From the moment you'd got to Joel's house that evening, he'd been touching you, whispering praise, telling you how beautiful you looked and how he wanted to just take you right there and then but sorry baby, we gotta get goin'. That hadn't stopped him sliding a hand up your thigh and dancing his fingertips across the front of your panties for the entire ride to the venue. By the time you got there, you were dripping and ready to come, but he had simply extracted his hand and got out of the car, leaving you hot and bothered and alone in the passenger seat.

And it hadn't got much better from there. Joel was making his way around the room, introducing you with a look in his eye that made you weak at the knees. You'd never known someone to be so proud to know you, so keen to show you off, before you'd met Joel. His hand would slide protectively up your back, drawing goosebumps across your flesh, or lightly ghost over your ass, whispering promises of later in your ear. He pressed endless kisses to your temple, and more than once you had to fight the supernova in your chest from exploding outward, flinging yourself at him with the force of it, and begging him to take you home as you wept into his mouth.

But then he'd introduced you to him. A contractor who he'd picked up on their latest job. He was shorter than Joel, and well dressed with dark hair and pristine shoes. You remember the shoes well - you'd focused on them for a long time, unable to keep looking at his face for fear of the heat that would spread to yours.

"This is my girl. Told you about her," Joel introduced you, shouting loud over the noise booming from the speakers. He kissed you on the side of the face then, watching you like a hawk as you looked up and smiled sweetly at the beautiful man before you - Andrew, from what you heard Joel say over the music - and choked out a small hello.

Joel took that moment to excuse himself.

"Gonna go get our friend here another drink."

You turned to kissed him square on the mouth before he could stride off, leaving you alone with Andrew, nipples puckering almost painfully beneath the thin material of your dress.

Small talk had been awkward all evening, mostly because you hadn't really wanted to be there, but with Andrew it was anything but. He spoke to you like it was the easiest thing in the world, laughing and joking together like you'd known each other for longer than a few minutes. You were transfixed, talking animatedly as you rested a hand on his arm, making a comment that made him laugh, a deep contagious thing that made your core drip with want. All the while, dark eyes from across a room stare at you, and you don't realize for a second that it's taken much longer than a few minutes to grab a drink.

Joel had known, you were sure of it. Maybe it was your wide eyes, or your shuffling feet played off as just the ache in your toes, but talking to Andrew did something to you, and Joel knew. Finding out he was here alone and would be going home to an empty apartment too was more of a thrill than it should have been. Not that you would be. You'd be going home with Joel, but that made the thought of him all the sweeter.

It's a thought that still lingers with you as you lie here in Joel's bed hours later. You sigh, trailing your fingertips softly up your body, willing Joel to hurry up and finish his phonecall so he can relieve the ache from more than just your feet.

And that's just how he finds you a few minutes later. Caressing your own soft flesh beneath crisp sheets, caught in a fantasy of a shapeshifting man.

"Sorry baby, was Tommy. Security called him in for a late delivery, ruined his date." You open your eyes, not realizing you'd even closed them, and look up at him with a soft smile. The shapeshift man is clear as day now, no longer shifting between the men that could be, but staying firmly as one that is right in front of you. Fuck, do you want him.

His back is to you tugging his shirt from his arms, revealing broad shoulders and his soft belly as he turns. He spots your hands moving beneath the sheets you'd tucked yourself into, unable to keep them still even now that he's here.

"Gettin' started without me?" he asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You were taking too long," you say, dragging your fingertips across the swell of your breasts and up your neck into a lazy stretch.

Reaching for your outstretched leg, he pulls your foot from its confines, making you yelp and giggle as he tugs you down the bed. He did promise you a foot rub. Strong thumbs push into your arch, rubbing there, making your foot flex, the ache in your sole abating just a little with each slow rotation. You groan, lost in the relief his hands bring, before he's switching to the other foot and doing the same all over again.

You're Jell-o by the time he's finished, kissing all over your calves, knees, thighs, as he crawls up your body.

He nuzzles into the soft front of your panties, still damp or newly damp, you're not quite sure, and breathes you in. He mouths at you over the thin fabric, and you're so desperate for more friction on your clit after hours of waiting that you wiggle, trying to grind yourself against his face.

"I know what you want when you get all wiggly, baby," he says, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. He tickles his fingers across your damp crotch, making you wiggle even more. "You want your daddy, don't you?"

"Yes, Daddy," you say eagerly, reaching down to scratch at the scruff on his face, trying to tug him up to you for a kiss. "I've been a good girl."

He presses a long kiss to your palm, nudging your hand away with his head so he can burrow his face into your mound again. "Mm. You have. Know you didn't wanna stay that long, but you did so good for me." It comes out as nothing more than a mumble, the deep vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your pussy.

The truth was you hadn't expected to like anything about this evening that didn't involve Joel. But you had, and that had made sticking around far more tolerable than it should have been, even with the consistent trickle of want through your core.

"Think we should get these panties off o' you and see what mess we're dealing with. Been worked up all night, huh?" he asks, as if he hadn't been responsible for it.

He peels your underwear from you, tugging them down your legs and throwing them behind him without a care for where they land, before he spreads you open and takes a leisurely lick through your folds. He can never resist, the sight of you so worked up for him from so little always such a temptation. He licks again, looking up at you with a smirk as you melt further into his sheets. The slippery muscle of his tongue pushes into your slick hole and fucks you gently, tasting every drop of desire you'd had for him - and Andrew.

A final peck to your clit and he's groaning, shifting up the bed to slotting in beside you with a heavy sigh, curving his broader frame against yours. You find his mouth, needing to have him close to you in every way you can, and kiss him, holding his head in your hands as his own finds its way between your legs. Large fingers stroke delicately across your pussy. His own spit makes the soft drag of his fingers effortless as he finds your clit with practiced ease, and swipes gently at the swollen nub.

Your own hands roam, drifting from his face, slyly tracing down his body until you're tucking your fingers into his pants. Only, it's not sly at all, and he's holding back his amusement when he whispers into your mouth, unzipping his pants and pulling them down before settling beside you once more. "S'alright, I got you."

Your hand immediately flies to his cock, stroking across his smooth length, wasting no time in working him back up after it had softened since your antics downstairs. When he's stiffened in your palm, standing up and knocking rigidly against his belly when you let go, you trail your fingers down to his balls. You lightly squeeze, massaging them in your palm, rolling your thumb over the soft flesh.

He groans, closing his eyes as he grabs his own dick in his massive fist, long lashes tickling his cheek. "That's it, stroke Daddy's balls. Gotta get ready to go in that pretty pussy of yours baby."

You lightly drag your nails across his sack as his slowly jerks himself, stiffening further the more you play with him. You revel in the shaky breath your nails draw from him, nuzzling into his chest. The velvety scent of his cologne is faint now, but you breathe deep regardless - the smell of his bare skin and a subtle hint of his sweat was better than any bottled fragrance anyway.

He pulls his hand from between your legs to reach over to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. Both of you know you're slick enough to take him without it, but the slip of his lubed up dick gliding so easily in and out of you without stretching you with his fingers first was too much to resist.

A sound you love to hear, a soft gasp, leaves his lips when he drizzles some of the cold liquid onto the head his engorged cock, letting you spread it over him with your own fist before nudging you onto your side, forcing you to release your grip.

He is everywhere, surrounding you in every sense. A broad arm tucks under your waist, hugging you tight to his chest with a palm pressed flat between your breasts. His lips are on your cheek, tracing wet biting kisses down your neck. You turn to moan into his pillow just as his other hand snakes its way back between your thighs, pushing the plush flesh aside to rub broad circles over your soaked pussy.

"Gonna take me in now baby, open up for me." Arching your back, you expose your cunt to him from behind as his length ruts against you, lube spreading across your thighs. He fucks between the meat of them, grazing your pussy and nudging into your clit and his own palm with each thrust.

"Don't tease, Daddy," you whine, already so far gone you're ready to plead with him to just fuck you already.

"No teasin' baby, you've been so good for me. Gonna give it straight to you. Here it comes," and he feeds the tip of his cock into you, gently fucking you with his thick head. You push your hips back, slipping more of him into your wet heat, delighting in the feeling the stretch in your cunt and his ragged breath on the back of your neck. Slick dribbles out of you, coating him as he pushes in to the hilt.

"Ohhh, f- mm."

He holds you tighter when you moan, his front flush with your back. You're totally cocooned in his arms as he begins sliding his cock in and out of you with minute thrusts of his hips.

Being cuddled and fucked like this was your favorite. His hands could roam freely, stroking your belly, tugging at your nipples, sticking a finger in your mouth for you to suck on, all whilst his hips gently rocked into you, your pussy coating him, dripping wet slick all over him and making a mess between the two of you the longer it went on. And it could go on. Sometimes he would make you lie here for what felt like hours, talking and watching a movie as he painfully slowly fucked you, keeping himself hard for so long you feared it'd do damage. When he eventually came, it'd be an easy thing, a few quicker thrusts pulling him over the edge and spilling his cum inside you, painting you, filling you so full it'd leak out of you where he had you plugged. You loved those days.

This was not one of those days.

He starts snapping his hips quicker, thrusts still shallow as his fingers start to rub deliberate circles over your clit once again. Remembering your manners you stutter out a quick thank you Daddy when his fingers pick up the pace.

"Can't get enough of your daddy's cock, can you? It's all you want."

You make a noise, somewhere between a groan and a negative. After today you couldn't say it was. You'd seen the way he had looked at you, and the way that Joel had looked at you because of it. Whatever that was, you wanted it, and you were pretty sure Joel did too.

"No? You want other dicks in this pussy?"

Biting into the pillow, you nod, stifling another whine. You'd almost be ashamed that you'd been so obvious with it, flirting too brazenly in front of too many people, but you're too far gone to care.

"Fuck yeah, you do. My baby wants to be filled with so many cocks, don't she? Have 'em fuck you and then you come crawling back to me to kiss it better."

And that's it, that's the thing that sends you over.

"Oh fu-Daddy, D-Daddy, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

His cock slips further into you, stretching you out and dragging against every part of you as his fingers pull an orgasm from your twitching clit.

"That's it. You come thinking about all those cocks that are going to ruin this pretty little hole."

You do. The arms wrapped around you are Joel's, but you imagine the cock buried in you is anyone but. Faceless strangers, acquaintances, colleagues. You want it so badly that when your orgasm finally wanes, you let out a feeble sob, burying your face into the pillow once more.

He holds you tightly to him, grinding into you slow and deep, your pussy sloshing wetly around him with your release.

"It's okay," he coos as you shudder, crowding over you now to nuzzle into your cheek. "Don't hide from me. You're allowed to have a greedy little pussy baby. Daddy doesn't mind."

He cradles you to him, letting his cock rest inside of you as he strokes you all over, coaxing you down from your orgasm. When you come to, unfurling from the ball you'd tucked yourself into, dried streaks from a few unnoticed errant tears on your face, he starts to rock again, peppering your face with kisses. You let out a small laugh, feeling silly now that his words, those words, could make you come that quickly and that hard. But then he blindsides you with an offer you weren't expecting.

"How 'bout we find you someone to play with when Daddy's not around?"

You'd almost approached it before, the two of you dancing around the idea of there being someone else, another body, shared with you or taken separately. Joel had joked about other men fucking you, watching you suck their cocks, but you never knew if he was serious.

"How 'bout Andrew, huh? Bet you'd like his mouth here," he touches your neck, trailing two rough fingers down your torso, stopping at your breasts to tease and pinch your nipples. "And here."

His hands move lower and you close your eyes, imagining Andrew's mouth. You can practically fucking feel it - whisps of well groomed facial hair scratching at your delicate skin. Andrew had been so handsome - suave, funny, interested. You'd noticed how his eyes had been drawn to you, subtle flicks down your body, taking you in, as he tried to maintain an air of politeness, of respect for his boss and his girl. You wish he respected Joel a little less.

Joel's fingers finally meet your clit and you moan. "Here too."

"I'm- f- I'm so close again daddy," you whine, not ready for another one so soon.

"You gonna come on your daddy's cock thinkin' about Andrew filling you up?" You nod frantically, unable to hold back anything any more as your cunt pulses around his stiff length. "You are? Oh fuck, you are."

He's cuddling you again, holding you tight as he snaps his hips into yours. He's breathless when he next speaks to you, whispering filth into your ear.

"You'd look so pretty creamin' around his cock baby, just like you do for Daddy." The moan that leaves your mouth is something next to a cry, ready to sob at the idea of how good it'd feel to have Andrew touch you, to come back and tell Joel all about it, to snuggle into his arms, safe and warm and used.

You're lost in the daydream as Joel fucks you, talking you through it, pulling you deeper into the fantasy. You can't stop it any more, your entire body convulsing as you come yet again, the imagined flick of Andrew's tongue on your over sensitive clit being the thing that finally sends you flying.

"Uhh-A-Andrew."

"Fuck yeah that's it, say his name."

"Andrew, f-yes. Please, Andrew, please."

Joel tenses behind you, gripping you harder around the middle as he can't hold back, barely moving his hips at all. The thought alone had pushed him so close to the edge he's tumbling over it without warning, spurting heavily into your dripping pussy, coating your walls with his cum. "Oh fuck, shit, fuck I'm coming, ohhh fuck."

He holds you tighter for a long while, his cock throbbing and heavy inside you, breathing deeply as his thumbs gently stroke over your skin, soothing you now that your second orgasm had abated.

"Mm, I'm sorry baby. Looks like Daddy made a mess of you quicker than he expected, huh? You're just such a good girl for me." You preen at his praise. Even now you were his good girl, and you loved how wanting another man to fuck you could make him lose control so easily. It's all a dream, it's got to be.

Your vision is still blurred when he turns your head to face him, brushing his nose softly against yours. "Just love how greedy your pussy is, baby. How much you want her filled up."

"I want it, Daddy," you whine pathetically into his mouth. "Want to be filled up." By Andrew.

You didn't need to say the silent part out loud for Joel to know what you wanted. After all, if you wanted something, it was a sure fire bet that Joel Miller already wanted it too.

"I can ask him. If that's what you want," he says it softly, almost a whisper as he caresses the side of your face. His softening cock slips from you, cum gushing out with the release of pressure, flooding your thighs with a wet mix of lube and Joel's cum and your own release as you think of him again.

Him. Joel would ask him for you - the fantasy could become a reality.

"Are you... are you okay with that?" You search his eyes, trying to find any trace of uncertainty there. There's none, just burning hot fire, a need, that courses straight from him into you and back again.

"Wouldn't be offerin' if I weren't, darlin'. Besides," he grins at you. "Good girls get to go on playdates."

"Joel!"

"What?!"

"A playdate? Really?"

"Well, if you don't want it.."

You hit him, hand slapping playfully against his chest and he's suddenly rolling on top of you, growling as he scratches his beard against your neck. It tickles, and your feeble attempts to fight him off are made even weaker by the laugh bubbling in your belly.

Your face hurts from smiling and holding back laughter when he pulls back from the onslaught on your neck. He's marked you, of that you're sure, and of another thing too.

"I want it."

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[blueiscoool]

Roman Marble Statue Found in Bulgaria

Archaeologists uncovered a fully preserved statue from the ancient city of Odessos. Archaeologists from Regional History Museum in Varna (Bulgaria's biggest maritime city) reported this afternoon, October 15, about this exceptional find during the excavations of the ancient city - a marble sculpture from the Roman era, slightly taller than a human height.

It depicts a middle-aged man with a short beard, dressed in a toga, with a scroll in his hand. On the front of the pedestal there is a well-preserved inscription, and from a preliminary reading it is clear the name of the person depicted: G(ai) Marius Hermogenes.

The only part that is missing is the wrist and there is some minor damage to the face, so restoration is needed before it can go on display, Archaeologia Bulgarica said on its Facebook page.

The statue was discovered during construction work in an area of sandy deposits, outside the walls of the ancient city. It was promptly reported to the museum by construction contractor Georgi Kraychev. The sculpture is believed to be from the end of the 2nd and the first half of the 3rd century.

The present-day city of Varna, Northeastern Bulgaria, originated as a settlement named Odessos (Ὀδησσός) which was founded by Ionian colonists from Miletus around 600–550 BC. The Greeks established their colony on the site of an earlier Thracian settlement.

In 335 BC, Alexander the Great conquered almost the entirety of ancient Thrace, and Odessos became part of the Macedonian Kingdom.

Odessos flourished most significantlly during the Hellenistic Age (end of III – I BC), when the city served as a starting point of troops of the successor of Alexander the Great – king Lysimachus (323–280 BC) who proclaimed himself king of Thrace. Big public buildings like temples, theatre, gymnasium (school for boys) and others were built during this period. Due to the increase of Thracian population in the city, a temple of the Thracian god-rider Heros Carabazmos and a temple of Artemis Phosphoros were built in II – I BC.

In 15 AD, Odessos became part of the Roman Empire, in the province of Moesia (later Lower Moesia), and became its main port on the Black Sea (Pontus Euxinos). Huge and ornate warm baths (Roman baths), the fourth largest in Europe, were built 7000 square meters of land.

It was called Varna by the Ancient Bulgars after the First Bulgarian Empire conquered it in the late 7th century AD.

[aboutkiyoomi]

003. bittersweet chocolate chunk | onigiri cravings

cw: cursing, angst............and slow burn sooo yasss.

"i'll be here for the next couple of months," he says, leaning against the counter slab. his apron is a mess, covered in various substances, and his hat is thrown to the side as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"why?" semi asks, appearing from the kitchen.

"bet it's 'cause of y/n," suga whispers, very obviously, into iwa's ear, causing osamu to clear his throat loudly.

"we're gonna be undergoing some slight renovations, and i need to meet with some contractors. plus, i have new recipes to release," he states, eyes shooting a look at suga. "speaking of y/n, where is she?" samu asks, glancing around hopefully.

"she's gonna be a little late. said she'd explain when she gets here," suga starts, shrugging his shoulders. but the worried look on his face transfers to osamu, who hums quietly.

meanwhile, in your studio apartment, you wonder when it all got this way. when did akaashi become so overly consumed with school and so inconsiderate of his relationship? it all boiled down to this moment. you expected it, but not like this, not this torturous.

the arguments continued after he stormed out, but the apologies became less and less frequent between the two of you. the house was ghostly, with nothing but short screaming matches followed by the slamming of doors. you found out that when he leaves, he stays with bokuto.

"i'm not arguing with you today," akaashi states, pushing past you into the study.

"akaashi, what are we even doing?" you huff, eyes tired as you watch him pause in the doorway.

"i…" he pauses, taking a deep breath before pinching his temples. "i don't fucking know, y/n. this isn't us," he starts, turning around to face you.

"no shit," you reply plainly.

"i think we should break up," he says, his mouth straightening into a thin line. but your reaction isn't sad in the moment; you won't give him that satisfaction. you scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

"you know, i had a feeling this was coming, but i thought you were too scared to do it. you grew a pair, keiji," you say bitterly, as you begin grabbing your stuff. his mouth opens, but he shuts it promptly.

"and i'll move out. i'll find a place and stay at suga's until then. you pay most of the rent anyway," you say plainly, willing yourself not to cry, to be strong.

"y/n… you don't have to—" he starts, but you immediately cut him off.

"keiji, i do. we were in love for a long time, but there's something you love more than me, and that's okay. it takes time, energy, and patience to become a doctor—something i don't have," you laugh harshly, your eyes clouding slightly as you remember words from a past argument. "this was a long time coming. we need space to process this, so don't worry about it." you finish, stepping into the genkan and silently sliding on your shoes. you leave akaashi there, standing in the middle of your apartment, eyes glazed and dazed.

you walk to work, willing yourself not to cry. if anything, this gives you a chance to study more for your upcoming nclex exam and work more hours. you will try your hardest not to let akaashi keiji break you.

as you walk into work, you're met with the face you've grown to find safe, and somehow, your eyes immediately begin to water. suga knowingly opens his arms while semi opens the door to the back of the house.

"oh, baby," suga mutters as tears pour from your eyes, and you all but fall into his arms.

"it's over," you mutter repeatedly into the fabric of suga's dark 'onigiri miya' shirt.

osamu's eyes flicker up from his office, catching sight of suga walking you to the break room, streaky tears staining your beautiful face. osamu immediately makes a beeline for you, but iwaizumi stops him.

"she'll be okay, but right now she's going through something. it's not my place to explain, but just… give her a moment," iwa says, placing a firm hand on osamu's shoulder. yet osamu's eyes drill into the window of the break room. you are seated on the bench, your head buried in suga's shoulder while he pats your back and nods. iwa squeezes his shoulder reassuringly before guiding him back towards his office.

the tears eventually subside, and you explain the situation, albeit briefly. suga is understanding, immediately offering to help you move your stuff into his house for the time being. you explain it would truly only be for a short time and that you would do anything for him in the meantime, ranging from housework to picking up his shifts.

if there's anything you hate, it's feeling like you're burdening people.

you head into the employee bathroom and wash your face. your eyes are slightly red and puffier than usual. you sigh deeply and take a second to breathe before making a resolve in your mind.

three years is a long time, and the two of you have grown apart. it was excruciatingly obvious, yet no one wanted to acknowledge it, causing this pain. there's no time to be upset over this—it was coming, and you expected it. so, you would allow these feelings to pass and focus on what was important: your upcoming nclex exam and saving money. that was it; you would simply focus extra hard for now.

as you walk out of the bathroom and push out into the kitchen, your eyes catch on osamu, who is wrist-deep in a bowl of pre-cooked rice. his eyes immediately meet yours, catching you off guard.

"you missed the big announcement," samu starts, his lips twitching up playfully but carefully not to offend or hurt you any further. "i'll be staying here at this location for a bit," he finishes, smiling clearly from under the brim of his onigiri miya cap.

"ah… i see," you smile, your eyes still dull and puffy. you push out into the front of the house, ready to work and fueled with a renewed sense of energy.

a/n: dang rip akaashiyn, you will be rejuvenated in another series. AYEEEE bring on the slow burn with samu. i might double update, keep ya eyes out. this chapter is kinda..i promise the development is worth it.

taglist (open): @wyrcan @nightlybakes @anyalou @boogiemansbitch @peppersapro @wave2mia @applepi25

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Hyacinth - Joel Miller x Reader

Hyacinth (Hyacinthus) - Meaning: Please forgive me

Summary: After hitting your car, Joel Miller takes you out on a date to apologize.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 1921

Warnings: Fluff!, slight language, reader wears makeup and a sundress but is otherwise a blank slate, Pre/no outbreak AU, no Ellie, reader was left at the altar, dinner date conversation, making out, nicknames 'sugar' and 'darlin', Joel Miller is a warning in and of himself

I'm really happy with how this turned out! Just a fluffy first date with Joel Miller. Enjoy!

In Bloom Masterlist

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“Am I crazy?” you asked your best friend, Maria, while applying your mascara. 

“For what? Going on a date with the guy who smashed up your car?” Maria asked dryly, shrugging her shoulders while she watched you get ready. “Nah, I’ve done crazier shit.” 

“What if I remember him much more handsome than he is? Like the adrenaline made me think he was super hot?” you asked. 

“You can always invoke the code phrase and I’ll call you from ‘the hospital.’” Maria offered, putting ‘the hospital’ in air quotes. You smiled over at her and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. She smiled back at you. “Though I hope he’s not a dud. It’s about damn time you got back out there.” 

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, touching up your lipstick. You hadn’t had anything more than a hook-up since you were left at the altar two years ago, throwing yourself into work and fixing up the house you bought with your ex. 

With a final look in the mirror, you fluffed your hair and gave yourself a look of approval, then turned to Maria for final approval. 

“You look hot, babe. This guy isn’t gonna know what hit him.” 

You laughed, “Good, cuz he’s the one who hit me. Well, my car, but you know.” 

Three days ago in the grocery store parking lot, you’d been pulling into a spot when a scruffy-looking man hopped into the truck in the spot across from you, started it up, and pulled forward without looking. The front of your little sedan stood no chance against the grill of his behemoth contractor’s truck. 

He’d been incredibly embarrassed and apologetic, offering his insurance info and to pay for the damages himself. Amidst all this, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Brown curls with a striking hint of gray at the temples, broad, square jaw, and his eyes. Oh, you couldn’t get enough of his eyes and their dark brownness that threatened to swallow you whole. He must’ve noticed you staring because shortly after the tow truck arrived, he asked you on a date. 

“I know this ain’t the best time and, y’know if you’ve got a boyfriend or somethin’ feel free to tell me to shut up, but uh, I was wonderin’ if you’d let me buy ya dinner Friday night? As an apology.” A light blush had risen in his cheeks and he shuffled his feet like he was nervous, so you agreed to it. The smile on his face could’ve lit up the whole city. “Great, I’ll drive.” 

You’d both laughed at his joke. 

The doorbell you installed yourself rang, pulling you back to the present. Maria went downstairs and opened the door. You turned back to the mirror for one last once-over before Maria called your name. You descended into the foyer of your house and couldn’t help the smile that rose on your face. 

Joel Miller framed in your front doorway, wearing a dark green button-down and dark wash jeans would forever be seared into your memory. He looked, in a word, delectable. When he saw you, he smiled. 

“Hey,” he said. “Ready to go?” 

“Yep,” you said, but Maria cleared her throat from where she held the door open. “Oh! Joel, this is my friend Maria. Maria, this is Joel.” 

They muttered hellos and you grabbed your purse, muttering to Maria that no hospital visit was necessary. She smirked her knowing smirk and nodded, bidding you good night. 

Joel brought you to a nice Italian place, behaving like the perfect Southern Gentleman the whole time. He’d opened doors for you, pulled out your chair, and kept his hands to himself other than a hand at the small of your back to guide you to the table. You’d thought manners like this had gone the way of 8-track players and rotary phones, but you were utterly charmed by him.

While you looked over the menu, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him in the candlelight. You didn’t know he’d been doing the same since he picked you up until he cleared his throat. 

“Uh, you look really beautiful tonight,” he said. You could tell he was nervous — dark brown eyes darting all over, fingers tapping on the table.

You smiled warmly at him to try and ease his nerves, “You look really nice, too, Joel. I’ve been looking forward to this since you hit my car.” 

Your assurance seemed to calm him and he chuckled, “Me too, actually. Best accident I’ve ever been in. Well, second best.” 

“What’s the first?” you asked, curious. 

A pink hue tinged his cheeks and he looked down at the table. “My daughter. She wasn’t planned, but she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

“Yeah, is that,” he cleared his throat again, “is that an issue?”

“God, no!” you insisted, “So you’re divorced? I hope?” you joked. 

“Uhh, her mom split before we got married. Haven’t heard from her since.” He muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the server came over and took your orders. 

When the server left, Joel wouldn’t meet your gaze. Before you got the chance to ask about his daughter he leaned forward a bit and made eye contact. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this often. I think the last date I went on was when Sarah was in preschool so it’s been a while.” 

Because you had a faulty filter, or because you wanted him to know you knew how awkward dating was you blurted, “I was left at the altar two years ago. So I haven’t dated much either.” 

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. 

“Yeah. We’d been together for six years, I followed him out here for his job, and then on the big day — poof! He disappeared. Two days later, he called from Florida and said he’d gotten a job offer he couldn’t refuse but he didn’t want to uproot the life I had built here,” you scoffed at the bitterness of your memory, washing it down with a sip of wine.

In the dimness of the restaurant his features softened, but you didn’t see pity in his eyes. Only understanding. 

And damn if it wasn’t exactly what you needed. 

Joel, you were coming to realize, was exactly what you needed. 

“Well he’s a goddamn moron,” Joel said. “Only spent a few hours with ya and I can tell.” 

Your heart fluttered when his big hand landed on top of yours on the table. The weight of his hand on top of yours felt incredibly intimate, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. In fact, you really liked it.  

“How old is Sarah now?” you asked, not moving your hand.  

“Almost fourteen.” 

You couldn’t help your reaction — your eyebrows shot up and you tried the mental math. Joel wasn’t that much older than you, maybe mid-thirties, late thirties max, so if his daughter was a teenager he had her in his early twenties. 

“That must’ve been hard,” you said, turning your hand over under his so you were palm-to-palm and squeezing his hand gently, “Raising her on your own.” 

Joel nodded and squeezed back, “Yeah, but my brother helps out and working for myself helps too.” 

“What do you do?”

“I’m a contractor.” 

You lit up at that, mentioning all the little house projects you’d attempted and the two of you chatted about how much subway tiling a bathroom sucks until your entrees arrived. 

You kept talking as you ate, finding more and more topics as the night wore on. Joel agreed to split a tiramisu even though he “didn’t much like sweets,” which you giggled at. 

“Me neither, but tiramisu is the exception.” 

You let him have the first bite, and he nodded in pleasure. “Yeah, that’s pretty damn good.”

Once the tiramisu was gone and the server dropped the check, you did the check dance, but he insisted that tonight was about him making amends so he should pay. You conceded, but only after insisting that next time was on you. 

He’d raised an eyebrow at you, dark eyes getting somehow darker, “There’s gonna be a next time?” 

Returning his smile, you nodded, “If you’d like to. I know I would.” 

Joel finished signing the receipts and stood up, extending a large hand down for you to take. He lifted you up and your body filled with heat at his gaze. Even though you’d just eaten, he looked hungry. 

“Me too, sugar,” he said lowly, lacing his fingers between yours and leading you out to his truck. Again, he opened the door for you like a gentleman and you could feel his eyes on you as you climbed in. You watched him round the front of the truck and get into the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on his hands as he turned the key and made a show of double-checking before he backed out of the parking spot which made you laugh. 

You couldn’t help your eyes landing on him every few minutes as he drove you home, talking incessantly about his daughter. It was incredibly endearing how enamored he was with his kid, how much he admired her accomplishments and how he wished he could spend more time with her without work getting in the way. You could tell this was a man who loved deeply, was loyal to the core, and would carve his own heart out of his chest to make those he loved happy. 

You were half in love with him already, but you shoved that thought away because it was way too soon.

Joel turned down your street and pulled into your driveway, hopping out and opening your door yet again. He helped you down and you kept hold of his hand. 

“Walk you to your door?” he asked, voice husky and eyes dark. You nodded and he led you by the hand onto your porch. It was like something out of a movie. The warm night breeze wafted his spicy cologne toward you, making you lean in closer. His eyes bounced from your eyes to your lips, his own lips parted. From this close you admired each of the gray hairs blooming along his temple and in his short beard. 

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, accent thicker than it had been. 

“Yes please,” you breathed, and he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was warm, soft yet firm, like the first bite into a perfectly ripe peach. He tasted like tiramisu and your hands wandered up to his chest. Underneath his shirt, you could feel his pulse quickening along with your own as his hands came to rest at your hips. 

You wanted more, wanted to deepen the kiss and pull his firm, broad body flush against your own — 

But then your front door opened, revealing Maria. 

“Oh! Sorry, thought I heard…”

You and Joel broke apart at your best friend’s interruption. Joel looked sheepish, burying his hands in his pockets. 

“Give us a sec,” you said to Maria, who shut the door. Years of friendship told you she was eavesdropping on the other side of the door, so you kept it brief. 

“I had a really, really great time tonight, Joel,” you said. 

He smiled down at you, brushing some hair behind your ear. “Me too. You busy tomorrow night?”

You shook your head, “Free as a bird.” 

“Good. Pick you up at seven?” 

“It’s a date.” 

[lizkeen]

Military/Army RP promps.

Sentences.

“A soldier is no citizen.”

“Can you hear me?”

“I’m going to get you out of there!”

“Get away from the ledge!”

"I'm not here to negotiate."

“You betrayed the whole troop.”

“Does the captain know what you’re doing?”

“Get your fucking head down.”

"We can offer you a deal."

"I have ways of making you talk."

“Fucking watch it!”

“We’re not going to the safe house.”

“You need to be gone before the next checkpoint arrives.”

“Secure the house first.”

“Room clear.”

“They’ve got him cornered.”

“Who paid these troops?”

“They are moving south!”

“I’m low on ammo.”

“Watch your fucking comm.”

“Cover me.”

“We stay here and we’re dead.”

“Search everything. I want the file.”

“We served together.”

“Move or I’ll shoot you.”

“Are you the contractor?”

“Answer me, do you fucking copy?”

“They’re going to hunt you like dogs, man.”

“I don’t want the missiles, I want you.”

“I can tell you where to find him.”

“What’s the status?”

“Why do you work for them?”

“Did they recruit you?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“You are out of line.”

“They send their regards.”

“Search upstairs.”

“Hands up and don’t turn around.”

“I said turn around.”

“Drop your weapon.”

"I'm not going to ask again."

"Where are they?"

"Where the fuck is it?"

“Move or I’ll shoot you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Listen up, asshole.”

Actions.

[temple] - Sender holds a gun to receiver's temple.

[hostage] - Sender holds receiver as leverage/hostage.

[shove] - Sencer shoves receiver with a gun in the back.

[shoot] - Sender shoots receiver ( specify where, knee, hands, etc )

[restrain] - Sender restrains receiver.

[hair] - Sender yanks receiver up by the hair.

[loved] - Sender forces receiver to watch a loved one die.

[trust] - Sender is trying to gain receivers trust to escape.

[tray] - Sender shoving receiver a tray of food where they are chained up.

[injury] - Sender helps injured receiver to a safe house.

[lightsaber-dorphin]

Jedi Order Bureaucratic Structure

I’ve been working for a while on worldbuilding the inner workings of the Jedi Order. Below is a flowchart of the administrative bodies, their duties, and any other admin bodies they oversee. More details on each below the cut.

These are different groups involved in running the Jedi Order. For different roles within the Jedi, see my Jedi Order Corps and Subdivisions.

High Council: (Finance, bylaws, PR, major trials)

Determines the budget(s)

Relations with the Senate

Only body that can expel members

Librarian's Assembly: (Ensures knowledge is available to Jedi)

Fund academic researchers (many Jedi researchers work directly for the assembly)

Archives: (Run the Archives & research)

Host academic conferences

Protect important artifacts

Run basically directly by the Librarian's Assembly

Department of Classes: (Adult education)

Organize all classes that aren't geneds

Set criteria for certifications/ degrees

Help members get degrees from external organizations

Council of Reassignment: (Oversees transfers & is Jedi CPS)

New Initiate paperwork

Transfers between corps and/or branches

Helps members leave the Order

Checks the CoFK when necessary

Padawanship paperwork filed here (crèchemasters sign off, padawan signs off, check master for red flags/ not allowed to take apprentice, sometimes mind healer signs off)

Council of Justice: (Attourneys & internal justice system)

Try & punish cases committed by Jedi & internal to the Jedi Order

Mediate interpersonal disputes

Lawyers for the Order

Cannot expel members

Council of Outreach: (Manages outposts & patrols)

Assigns Jedi to satellite locations or watchfolk posts

Hires other outpost staff

Ships supplies to & from outposts

Tracks the locations of missions & sends Vanguards to areas that haven't been visited recently

Council of Temple Maintenance: (Oversees internal services and temple upkeep)

In charge of the cleaning droids

Coordinates trash & recycling with Coruscant government

Has the occasional member who can do specialized maintenance (ex. plumber, electrician)

Volunteers sign up to fix things

Hires outside contractors when there isn't a Jedi with the necessary skills

Assigns Jedi to living quarters

Interior decor

Delegates chores such as taking out the trash, mopping, dusting, etc.

Padawans and initiates are often assigned these chores as punishments

Kitchenmasters: (Mess halls)

Make & serve food in the mess halls

Label the food with which species can eat it

Order food supplies

Supervise initiate clans helping in the kitchens

Quartermasters: (Distribute supplies & manage finances)

Bulk-order supplies for the Order

Provide mission allotments

Desk operators help members pick up supplies

Accounting

Transport Office: (Run the hangar bay & speeder pool)

Responsible for the Order's vehicles

Mechanics

Vehicles are checked in & out like a library for cars & ships

Hire external staff when there aren't enough Jedi

Temple Guard: (Security & emergency response)

Guard against exterior threats to the temple

Security during criminal situations

Really good at sensing danger to temple inhabitants

First responders (fire & police-- MedCorp handles EMS)

Change lightbulbs and smoke detector batteries

Odd jobs on behalf of the CoTM

Uses the lore by Adsecula in "Nameless"

Council of Reconciliation: (Central hub of Jedi outreach & diplomacy)

All aid requests go through them

Sets mission objectives

Approve or deny aid/ mission requests

Reviews behavior of Jedi on missions when there are issues

Mission Consignment: (Assign Jedi to approved missions)

Desk jockeys

Not officially divided by type of mission/ Jedi role needed, but missions will be passed to people who are more familiar with the experts required

Organizes specifics for missions such as transportation and housing

Council of First Knowledge: (Runs Initiate & Padawan dorms, clans, & childhood education)

Initiate clans members live together with their crèchemasters rotating out night shifts

Padawans & Senior Initiates live in individual rooms in designated halls with some crèchemasters living in each hall

Department of Seekers: (Regulates conduct of Seekers)

Create regulates for what Seekers can & cannot do & how they should act

Investigate reported misconduct by Seekers

Crèche: (Organizes care for Initiates)

Sort Initiates into clans

Run events/ field trips/ etc.

Set educational standards

see my post about Living Quarters in the Jedi Temple

Department of Primary Classes: (Classroom education for younglings)

Standard elementary school operation stuff

Provides the general education classes all Jedi take as younglings

Circle of Healers: (Sets certification requirements)

Certified to train medical professionals for a variety of degrees

Determines when Jedi have fulfilled requirements for medical certifications

Sets the qualifications for Force-specific medical degrees

Halls of Healing: (Healthcare within the Order & internal outreach)

Like a local hospital but also has general practitioners

IRB: (Reviews research for ethical concerns)

Institutional Review Board

"Under FDA regulations, an Institutional Review Board is group that has been formally designated to review and monitor biomedical research involving human subjects. In accordance with FDA regulations, an IRB has the authority to approve, require modifications in (to secure approval), or disapprove research. This group review serves an important role in the protection of the rights and welfare of human research subjects."

IRB for the entire Order, not just the MedCorps

[sahestatellc]

Temple Contractors Dubai

SAH Estate LLC is a leading name among Temple Contractors Dubai, specializing in the construction of temples that reflect rich cultural and spiritual values. With a dedicated team of skilled professionals, they bring extensive experience in both traditional and modern architectural styles. Their commitment to quality ensures that every temple is built with precision, using high-quality materials and innovative techniques.

As trusted Temple Contractors Dubai, SAH Estate LLC manages all aspects of the construction process, from initial design to final completion. They prioritize client satisfaction and work collaboratively to bring each vision to life, ensuring that projects are completed on time and within budget. For expert guidance on your temple construction, contact SAH Estate LLC at ☎ +971 54 340 3066.

[marbletemples]

Best Marble Temples for Home, Office, and Outdoor

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[valiantverses]

The Azrael Series: Chapter Two

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader Slowburn/Sort of Enemies to Friends to Lovers)

°°°°°

Summary: Task Force 141 is assigned a new member to deal with Makarov for good. Highly-skilled, brutally efficient and devastatingly competent, Ghost has met his match - and finds himself at odds with the SAS Fraternization Regulations as getting to know you makes him re-evaluate a life he never thought to allow himself.

CW: Canon-typical violence.

°°°°°

@beansproutmafia @chinuneko @agustdpeach @murder-hobo

Introduction 1 2

"We've not gotten much out of the drive m' afraid. We've got cyber forensics and analysts going over the files - far as Makarov's movements, we've got nothin' of note."

The briefing room's atmosphere was a degree short of despair. Papers strewn about, stale cups of coffee and tea haphazardly pushed to the side as Laswell's Toughbook blinked to life, showing the results of the hard won drive the 141 had retrieved a couple of days prior.

Ghost had opted to stand during the meeting, taking up his usual spot with a full view of the room. Most of the team had elected to sit around the metal tables, the briefing now on its third hour - not quite as brief as one would hope, he thought.

He watched Gaz lean back into a stretch, arms opening wide and settling at the back of your chair. You glanced up at the sergeant briefly before turning back to the neatly stacked piles of documents in front of you, poring over the mind-numbing reports and occasionally making notes.

Your integration into the group - Johnny and Gaz, anyway - had not been seamless from his observations, but the sergeants had been as open as could reasonably be expected from their personalities, and you seemed to be reciprocating - or trying to, anyway.

"Ach - not even in the emails? Employee profiles?"

Johnny piped up, unable to hide the annoyance that darkened his features. Ghost had noticed the Scot had been mellower in recent months. Maybe even years - ever since Zakhaev, at least - the burden of their profession was a continuous wear and tear on the mind and soul for those who hadn't locked away parts of themselves like he had. Like his boots, gloves, tactical vests, the work pushed and pulled at soldiers, clawing and scratching till it had to be replaced, patched up, or discarded.

Conveniently, Ghost mused, replaced, patched up, or discarded were the same three fates most soldiers stumbled into.

Johnny knew what this job meant, had experienced it firsthand, and still continued to shoulder the responsibilities. Ghost was intimately familiar with the drive to push through and respected that need - even if it meant watching a part of his comrade wither away.

Laswell sighed, rubbing her temples as she looked up from her computer to meet Johnny's eyes.

"All legitimate, tracing back to businesses or third party contractors."

"All fer nothin' then, was it?"

Price, who had opted to stand as well with his arms crossed, chose this moment to speak up.

"It's hard to imagine the ultranationalists just went and gave up after Zakhaev's death."

At this, Soap leaned back a bit, shifting his whole attention on to price. Ghost remembered reading the reports, how shattered Soap had been over Zakhaev when he got back from S.A.S. recon in Mexico.

"We know Makarov is well trained in counterinsurgency from his time in Airborne and the Spetznaz, but there must be a link somewhere - you don't move weapons and people on the scale he does without having some kind of paper trail."

You chose this moment to speak up, hand still carefully taking down notes as you pored over the files in front of you.

"You mentioned contractors. May we have a list?"

Laswell glanced up at surprise at you before switching to a different tab. It was true that you hadn't been particularly vocal in your time at the base, keeping your distance from most of the upper brass.

"Gutter cleaners, vehicle upkeep, insurance inspections, air conditioning installation, occupational health and safety reviews, catering-"

He watched you smile, that was that same wry smirk, the same twist of the lips that pulled at your face and made your eyes quirk in such a way that-

He jerked his head to the side, keeping his eyes trained on Laswell's computer.

"Couldn't imagine air conditioning would be on my list of priorities, in a winter desert."

Wordlessly, Laswell pulled her laptop closer to her, instantly beginning to pore over the emails sent by the air conditioning company. Price and Johnny shared a look when Laswell made a hum of approval.

"Seems this company uses a really simple order form template, copy and pasted- not really something you'd expect of a company taking orders at this volume."

Gaz reached over, leaning over the table to point at the screen.

"Subject: Notice of equipment upgrade. In our ongoing efforts to enhance the performance of our air-conditioning units, Our technicians will be overseeing the delivery and installation of a package containing the latest components aimed at optimizing energy efficiency. Your cooperation during this upgrade process is greatly appreciated."

He whistled, leaning back in his chair. "They've 'upgraded' their air-conditioning 11 times in the past 4 months.'

You didn't even acknowledge the discovery, still buried in the files. It strangely grated at him, this nonchalance of yours- but surely it was better than the callous sort of arrogance many soldiers at your level possessed? He respected good soldiers, especially those fighting alongside him. But you... there was something different about you.

He was aware of the glaring hypocrisy, to question someone's integrity because of the walls they put up when he himself wore a mask to distance himself from who he was outside of the battlefield.

But you wore a different kind of mask.

He had noticed, during brief moments where your professionalism didn't so much crack as it distended- like a rubber band warping after being pulled apart too strong. There was a smouldering fire beneath the glacial shell of duty you wore. It flickered sometimes, a molten glint in your eyes or a wry quirk of your lips, hinting at a real live breathing person within.

That ferocity had sparked your first clash in the mountains, tangled limbs and shared breaths in thin air, his gaze tracing the map of your face as he tried to determine your motives, whether or not he could trust you. Then there was the hangar, your quiet confidence grating against his need for control. An unlikely pair, yet you'd executed the mission flawlessly. Rolled with the punches and gotten through it all.

Though his face betrayed nothing, his mind buzzed with thoughts as he went over your latest interactions - outrage at your audacity, annoyance at your nonchalance, and a strange reluctance to let go of the distruption you caused, one he wouldn't- couldn't, try to understand the root of.

Beyond it all, he had to admit, was a begrudging sort of respect.

"8 payments have been made this quarter alone to the HVAC company - all worth tens of thousands."

"Drip feedin' Makarov's extra curriculars I take it- any ID on the company behind it Laswell?"

"Northwest of the Caucausus mountains. I'll clear it through Shepherd."

He saw your lips quirk down into a frown at Laswell's words, clearly unhappy about something. He tore his eyes away, accidentally locking gazes with Price, who tossed a raised his eyebrow his way. He maintained eye contact, unwilling to look away first and crossing his arms when Price shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

"We should-" it was the first time he'd ever heard you sound even the tiniest bit hesitant. "We should look into Makarov's known contacts. See who's benefitting from his actions that may be flying under the radar. All of them, even known hostile connections."

There was an implication to your words that Ghost didn't like, and he voiced it.

"Looks like we're already drownin' in information and more questions than answers. Want to send us on a wild goose chase when we don't even know if there's a goose to chase, do ya?"

He could see your jaw tense the tiniest bit as you turned to him, eyes hard.

"All I'm saying is that - paramilitary operations do not function in a vacuum, sir. Terrorist attacks require weapons, and those weapons require logistics to distribute, processing, manufacturing - everything does. The fact that we've run into nothing might suggest we're being walled off from information by design."

There was it- that spark, like flint and steel crashing together. He approached the table, placing both hands on it as he lowered himself to look at you directly in the eyes. When he spoke, his voice was rough, taking on a gravelly quality.

"We've been working on this for years and you've been here a month- if you could focus on your job instead of speculating on facts that aren't there maybe you could actually get the job you were assigned to do done, sergeant."

"Yes, sir." You gritted out, lips thinning. He could see in the tenseness of your shoulders that had he not been your superior this discussion would have been more drawn out.

But your words were beyond inflammatory - they were dangerous and put into question the very foundation of the chain of command that the operation was centered on. You would have to learn that these were thoughts best kept to yourself - it was clear to him that you lacked experience and maybe even the humility that came from working with teammates.

Relaxing his shoulders, he turned to regard the group, realizing that several pairs of eyes were now glancing between you and him with varying levels of confusion and surprise. Laswell, closing her laptop with a neat click, spoke first.

"I think we got it. This corporation has two locations- we'll do some recon and get a plan going, try and positively ID any key people. Great catch, Azrael. I sense this is something big."

You shifted the tiniest bit, simply nodding in response. He hadn't seen you handle direct compliments very well - the military did acknowledgements at most.

You remained quiet for the rest if the briefing and the dismissal after, studiously going over old files, not meeting his eyes again.

"LT! I think we need ourselves a little celebration to welcome our little Sherlock here, aye?"

You mumbled a bit, shuffling as the Scotsman draped an arm over you and patted your arm.

"Just identified an anomaly in the information- is all-"

"None of that now, gawn yerself! We got an ol' teammate comin' with us, Roach, I reckon you'll like 'im."

"I think it would really help your case if you could speak English, McTavish." Ghost remarked, dryly. He had been ready to leave and stretch his legs after leaning up against cold concrete for closing in on 4 hours.

"Alright- not sure about drinking, with the mission coming up soon, but I'll go."

"Ach pure brilliant, so it is. Gaz! You're drivin'! No fun juice for you m'fraid."

There was a groan from inside the communal area, then a smattering of mutters of which if Ghost were a betting man, he'd say could give any sailor a run for their money.

"What d'ya say LT?" He turned back to two sets of eyes, yours a strained sort of amusement, before he leaned back and rested his hands on the straps of his vest.

"Fuckin' hell. You're buyin', Johnny."

There was outraged sputtering, so Scottish it was indecipherable, before he turned to leave. His eyes locked with yours for a split second, assessing. Then he broke connection and made his way back to his barracks, his mind lingering.

He wondered what you were like away from it all.

Away from Azrael.

You seemed like more of a person than he allowed himself to be - but that remained to be seen.

Tonight, the echoes of questions would be drowned at the bottom of a bottle.

°°°°°

Translation for the Soapese:

Gawn yerself: Go on yourself (You're doing really good)

[itsbenedict]

From the beginning | Previously | Coin standings | 60/70 | 36/36

Walter wants to go check out what was happening down in that sunken temple, but Adea doesn't want to just leave all this dirt sitting here- and she's just plugged in that coin miner thingy, so they'll need to sit around for a bit to see if it works anyway.

IT PREVENTED ROOK POWER EXTRUSION is OVIOS NETWORK EXPENDITURE REPORT. Apparently, about 14 years ago, the municipal government started deploying some project called the OpenVista I/O Station network. OPENVISTA is, on paper, an independent startup, but apparently it's a shell corporation established so Thinrar could dodge some of his own restrictions on public works. The report details the budget that went into constructing and deploying these things- though it's not clear from the report exactly what they do.

Apparently a construction company called WIREFRAME MOCKUP was hired to simultaneously build a mall named TARGETED ADVERTISING... and force an underground funeral home type facility run by SLEEP MODE to surrender something called the LOTUS VEXOR, in exchange for letting them keep the rights to their land (which they'd been retroactively granted thanks to a surveying loophole). The project took years and went way over budget, despite someone named DEADLOCK DETECTION being sent from Thinrar's office to oversee it personally. But 14 years ago, she apparently managed to get her hands on it- a key component of the OVIOS network, somehow. The cover op, the mall construction, is set to open in a few days.

TIN RUNT CONCOCTS A QUART O' CACTI concerns an AQUATIC CONSTRUCTION CONTRACT, offered by COLLUSION to a well-regarded specialist contractor named REGRESSION TEST. It's mostly an email chain with said contractor, who had a thousand questions about the nature of the work and the equipment she was being paid to install. The emails- sent to her by someone named JUST-IN-TIME COMPILER- are evasive and noncommittal, and seem primarily concerned with getting her to agree to various nondisclosure agreements and security measures.

REGRESSION TEST's job, apparently, is just to demolish the wreckage at the build site, create some waterproof housing with enough space for maintenance staff, and install the provided equipment. That's all she's allowed to know about the HILARITY! BE A FILIAL E-CYGNET.

SPRITZ? REPENT, WRY ED COOLHAXX! is a strange set of files called PROXY WIZARD CONTEXT HELPERS. It's a dossier on... various random people in town. A university researcher with no friends, a family of small-time crooks down by the docks, various guards at this very tower, and a handful of other random citizens with no clear connecting factors. The files describe the details of their lives over a disconcertingly long period of observation, and note things that are missing from those lives. Family members they don't have, friends they've lost contact with, coworkers who quit recently. There's transcripts of interviews with some of these people, but nothing stands out as particularly odd.

There's also profiles on various properties for rent, and some odd shorthand notes that appear to describe how long they've spent vacant and what's wrong with them. And... a bunch of copies of old missing persons cases, with all the names blacked out. And statements from investigations of incidents where... disasters were averted for reasons no one understood, like an out-of-control trolley being diverted onto a track by some good samaritan who never identified themselves.

[ed: Yeah, chew on that one, FF. You'll find out what I'm on about eventually.]

This is all weird, and rings a few bells, but you're not sure what to make of it just yet. In the meantime, Adea collects 10 Coin from the minter- which seems to have really raised the ambient temperature in the room. It's probably fine, though, right? The heat's dissipating into the stone, for the most part.

Adea consults with Walter and formulates a guess. He'd been drawn underground by some mysterious force when he woke up, right? If your daughter ended up here too- and it stands to reason, because you were all right there in the same place when the blast(?) went off- maybe she was pulled down there by the same force! It's possible he just missed her- she could've gotten lost in those underground tunnels somewhere. Best to give it another once-over with an extra pair of eyes.

You head through the ancient pyramid, which... seems to be more extensive, and in better repair than it used to be. When did all this construction happen? Finding a crack in the floor leading down is more difficult than before. Earlier, it hadn't been difficult at all- Walter says some part of him knew which way to go. Did something change?

Neither of you are feeling any supernatural pull downwards anymore. The area below- save for some additional pyramid construction- is almost entirely unchanged. Which... does mean that there is a GIANT SKELETON, still. Several of them. You find a reasonably well-hidden spot to lurk and install the WIFI ACCESS POINT in the REVERT A BANDANA SURGERY SUBTERRANEAN GRAVEYARD. Files include:

Someone took issue with the performance assessment of a robot horse, around, like... thirty years ago? The email is RE: PONY SERVITOR 2076 SCORECARD, and they're not happy.

You've heard of saltwater taffy, but mousewater taffy is considerably harder to manage. Someone's done it, though: ENCODED::: WRANGLED MOUSEWATER TAFFY.

According to the LANCE GLANCE RECRUITER: PI ROTATION IS OUT. He's in charge of recruiting people who've had a close shave with spears, and he prefers to measure lance angles with tau.

An island nation called Haiti, which you've never heard of, is really mad about something- but they don't seem to want to be mad. IRATE HAITI WISHES MELLOW??? Really?

There'd been a lot of development on a faster-than-light utensil, but the product has been getting worse over time. See, a TORTOISE PROVED WARP FORK REGRESSED in this paper.

There's an invitation to the LETTERED CORRECTNESS FOUNDATION, an organization devoted to putting letters in the correct order. Sure would help if these guys weren't hallucinatory!

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