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whumble-beeee · 5 months

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The Waiting Game

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 3

Contains: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, PTSD, past captivity references, needles mention, tied up/retstraints, blood, collar

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[As the warden of your captured hero, you are responsible for their health, for better or for worse. So it is generally advised that you should make a habit of tracking what injuries you cause on or in the hero’s body. Write it all down in a journal!

Another reliable approach is to examine them physically. This approach is best used if you think the hero is lying or trying to hide a physical ailment they so stupidly caused to themself while you were away. There will usually be resistance from the hero to such an approach, so you may have to restrain the hero to use this method. This also comes with the drawback that only external ailments can be detected, so you will likely have to also pick up on cues in the way the hero acts to detect more invisible sicknesses; Are they dizzy, lurching around, or exhibiting other signs of illness? Then they might just be ill! But be wary of faking! How stupid they’ll feel when you don’t fall for it because you’ve read The Unofficial Guide to Hero-keeping! (for more information, turn to ‘Identifying Faked Behaviors’ on pg. XX)]

* * * * * * * *

Stan felt like he was dying.

The way his arms wrenched behind his back had him constantly readjusting just to find even a semi-comfortable way to lie on the hard flooring. Every time he readjusted, the horrible aches and pains marring his body lit up as if it were the first time all over again, continually reawakening him with an infuriatingly small shot of adrenaline that only served to make him just conscious enough to feel the buzzing agony anew. He wove in and out of consciousness like a speedboat hurtled over the waves of choppy storming seas.

Genuinely a waking nightmare.

A bitter feeling at the top of his mouth stung lightly, clouding his mind, pulling him away from the terror, the torture, pulling him closer to an uneasy unconsciousness before the ever-present danger of the situation stormed back to the front of his mind and jolted him back awake. Because yeah, the mercenary was still here in the room, sitting in his stupid chair and scrolling on his stupid phone. At least when he wasn’t standing up every so often to bounce around the room like a bouncy ball, or restlessly spin around in circles like a toddler or quietly seethe in a sort of Spanglish about “¿por qué tardan tonto?” and “God, are they fucking with me?” and “Ughhhhh, I’m bored.”

The intermittent movement only served to constantly remind Stan of his place on the floor, tied up, beat up, ankle chained, dizzy, collared, and without his cane.

Oh, and the collar. It sat heavily on his throat, restricting any and all use of his powers. Making the possibility of fighting back stretch ever farther away.

He swallowed. Pushed the thoughts away. He tried not to think about it too much. The memories returned in the form of twisting waking nightmares if he thought about it too much. He did his best to just focus on the good things instead;

The fact that Chloe, his amazing little sister, didn’t seem to be involved in any of this. And if he ever found out she was, he would burn this entire place to the ground. He’d done it before for her, and he’d do it again. For her.

The fact that when (not if) he got out of this situation, he still had his fiance, Marcus, to go back home to. And in fact, Marcus was probably planning a rescue mission right this second, and when he saved Stan and put this Deeby guy in prison, they could all go back to normal and Stan could forget any of this had ever even–

“Oye! Chico! Stan, you better not be dying on me!”

Stan flinched out of his half-asleep daze and tried to move his hands out from behind him. His shoulders felt so stiff.

Didn’t work.

Right.

Then his eyes focused on the bounty hunter, and a glaring jolt of danger danger danger made him avert his gaze downward. The action made this vision swim, and he swayed. Had he always had a headache this bad?

The bounty hunter snorted at him.

“You givin’ me the silent treatment or something?” He started a slow meander toward Stan. “I was just checking up on you, bud. You stopped twitching and whining and shit, thought you were dead.”

And suddenly Stan found out that, in fact, there was a much more comfortable position for him to take in his bound-up state, that being him scootching back as quickly as possible from the encroaching mercenary until his back hit the wall.

“I wasn’t–!” Stan did not want to be a part of whatever recreational activities he would come up with to stave off the aforementioned boredom. Especially now that he was so defenseless. “Just–... I just– tired… and hurting. Wasn’t ignoring you.”

He stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I can understand the hurting, considering…” he gestured vaguely to all of Stan. “That. But you’re tired? Really? You’ve been sleeping since you first got here.”

Stan took a deep breath and managed to roll his eyes against his better judgment.

“Getting kidnapped, beat to shit, and tied up so you can barely move really has a way of doing that to you, I guess…”

Stan knew his mistake as soon as he voiced the thought. Then it all but was confirmed when he saw the way the mercenary perked up, that lively glint in his eye, the way his smile widened just slightly. Stan found himself tensing and pressing even further into the wall, as if that would help at all when the mercenary came over to do whatever tortures he saw fit.

Instead, the man quirked his head at him. “When was the last time you ate? You hungry?”

Then he didn’t wait for an answer before rushing to leave the room.

Stan had to take a moment to process.

“I– What?!” he tried to call after the mercenary, already feeling his heart pounding in his chest. The bounty hunter reentered the room again with his hands in his jacket pockets, and Stan couldn't cover up the small whimper that escaped from his throat when Deeby trotted up to him and pulled out that same horrible pocket knife from before.

“Turn around.” The bounty hunter ordered with a little twirling motion of his blade.

What was happening?

“A-ah– What?! N-no!”

His mouth pressed into a straight line, an agitated huff leaving his nose at the challenge. Though, the shine never left his eyes even when they narrowed.

“I’m gonna undo the cuffs, turn around.”

What?

Stan balked. “Why would–... What’s the knife–!”

The mercenary surged forward and reached for the back of Stan's neck. Stan ducked down with a screech, more out of instinct than anything else as he braced himself for the pulling of the strap around his throat, his breath being stolen away from him as it tightened, constricting his windpipe, cutting off his air supply and inevitably wrenching him around like a ragdoll.

Only for the pressure to instead pull on the back of his shirt.

And sure, yeah, he was still wrenched forward so that he splayed out onto his stomach, barely avoiding smacking his face into the ground after a blinding white light filled his vision when he fell hard onto his injured, overworked knee, and a hoarse cry forced from his throat when the bounty hunter's own perfectly working knee dug into his upper back right between the shoulder blades. But Stan could barely even find it in himself to be mad about that over the overwhelming and very confusing relief he felt at not being choked out.

He still squirmed and struggled to get out of the pin, though the struggle was very short-lived as he fell into a forced freeze when the point of the knife rested threateningly on the small of his back. Right above the cuffs.

“Cálmate! Jesuchristo,” the hunter’s voice sounded from above him. “Sit tight and shut up, I’m doing you a favor.”

His wrists lifted up and the sliding shing and clicks of metal against metal sounded out, the cuffs shifting and clacking against his wrists as Deeby worked. Then one of the cuffs momentarily tightened before clicking open and wrenching off, and before he could even think of struggling again, the knee on his back swiveled around, grinding painful bone into bone as his arms swung above his head and were recuffed there.

Stan grit his teeth against the various pitiful noises threatening his vocal cords. If he wasn't going to fight back, he at least wasn't going to yelp like a wounded puppy.

Even if the man sitting on his back did make him agonizingly reaware of the beating he took earlier, the punch to the liver, the throws against the wall, the sprint on a knee that barely worked. And newly aware of a few possibly cracked ribs that shot lightning-quick stabs up through his chest and arms.

The manhandling was truly a gift that just kept on giving.

“There, that wasn't so hard, was it runt?” The bounty hunter said smugly as he pinched the back of Stan's shirt and pulled him back upright to his knees, which Stan quickly readjusted to sit crisscross. He had to bite his tongue from another defiant ‘yes’ and possible ‘that's what she said’ joke.

The mercenary nudged his leg with his boot. “Verbal response, bud.”

Stan pursed his lips as he inspected the cuffs adorning his wrists, noticing for the first time the dark fuzziness that clouded the edges of his vision. “You… you could have just… let me just turn around…”

He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear the fuzz. Unsuccessfully.

“I gave you two chances. Told you what I was about to do. Plus, you need to learn to just do what I say. We can practice now actually! Eat this!”

A protein bar fell into Stan's lap. He stared at it.

He hadn't really noticed over the various screeching aches consuming his body which warranted more immediate attention, but a small, almost unbearable void was starting to take the place of his stomach. Maybe that's why he was so lightheaded. He tried not to dwell on how long he must have been here for the hunger to get that bad, and very tentatively picked up the bar to inspect it for… tampering he supposed. Poisoning.

As he turned the bar over in his hand, a small flash of dark red blotching his hand caught his eye; A little smiley face, lightly bloodied and scabbed over carved into the back of his hand. Taunting him with its joy.

He gawked at it, clenching his fist and watching the scab move lightly over the tendons. This must have been what the mercenary had carved into his hand that made him freak out when he'd first woken up. A perversion of everything the symbol was supposed to represent.

A fucking tiny little smiley face.

“It's not poisoned or anything.”

Stan practically jumped out of his skin as the mercenary appeared right beside him and deafeningly thumped one of the chairs down.

“If I wanted to drug you, I'd just–” he pressed the side of his fist into Stan's flinching arm and made a small popping sound, pantomiming a syringe. “Works a lot quicker than orally. And I can control the dose better.”

Oh. Oh no.

If the mercenary was ever going to drug him– Which there was almost no doubt he would try at some point–

He would use a needle.

“If– If you…” he was breathless, head spinning all of a sudden, vision tunneling on the death grip he held the protein bar in. “If you try to give me a shot, I'm going to– gonna freak ALL the way out. All the way. The entire way.”

He chuckled. “Damn, maybe I should poison your food then, calm down runt. Just sit in your chair and eat the protein bar.”

Stan wrenched his gaze up to the chair. He felt so hot. Was the room always this warm? He did not want to sit back in the chair. What would the bounty hunter do to him if he sat in the chair? What would he do if he didn't? Tie him up again? Torture him? Or maybe the plan was to poison him with the food. Deeby must have known he'd be hungry, he must’ve been here for hours at this point, if not a day. Or days?! He wasn't sure he could take much more of a beatdown, he already felt like he was teetering on the edge of a never-ending spiraling hole that he would never be able to escape from if there were any more restraints, more pain, more collars and taking away his powers so he couldn't defend himself even though he tried, more nonchalant bantering as if his entire life wasn't being torn apart at the seams, as if he weren’t in chains on the floor of some unknown warehouse with a collar forced onto him again with absolutely no chance of escape and no chance he would ever see any of his family ever again, no way to protect Chloe from the same fate, no–

“--Chico! STAN!!”

Two thunderous finger snaps shot through his consciousness. Stan screeched and tried to slam his elbows back, straining against the cuffs and shoving back into the wall as hard as he could, breath shuddering, feet skidding across the floor, eyes darting around trying to see through the pinhole that his vision provided for the source of the noise as the world spun on its axis around him.

Then his vision locked on the source of the noise, darkness slowly receding back to the edges of his vision. The source of the noise stared at him with a probing look on his face. Stan shrank even further into himself, if that was possible. He had curled up into a little ball at some point.

“Let go of the collar,” the hunter said, voice scarily even.

Stan felt his heart skip a beat as he realized that he was indeed white-knuckling the collar. He pried his hands off of his neck as his heart pounded in his ears, only barely drowning out the deafening sound of his own gasping breaths

“Wait wait, I didn't–!...” The mercenary stalked toward him, and suddenly he felt like a trapped animal again, collar and chains and all. “Please, I– I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I wasn't trying– trying– I wasn’t–!”

The hunter squatted down right in front of him and sharply held up a finger, and Stan slapped his hands over his mouth to stop any more words from tumbling out at the command.

“Follow my finger with your eyes, yeah?”

Stan jerkily nodded. Tears burned his eyelids and wet his hands.

Deeby moved his hand around and around in front of Stan's face. Stan did his best to follow it. The motion made Stan's head spin, as well as the piercing red gaze of the mercenary staring into his pupils that he did his best to ignore.

“Oof, yeah,” Deeby said finally, resting his arm back down on his knee. “Concussion.”

Stan finally removed his hands from his mouth just enough to squeak out a response. “Concussion?”

“Concussion. You're off balance even though you're literally sitting down, staring into space, spacing out. Not making eye contact. Swaying. Plus your pupils are all blown up and you can't track for shit,” the mercenary laughed. “Maybe tossed you around a bit too hard back there. But hey, I told you what would happen if you tried to escape. That's on you, bud.”

Stan’s breath hitched on a light growl bubbling up in his throat. So it was his fault that he was beaten so badly that his brain literally rattled around his head? His fault that he was having a very understandable breakdown?

He wiped at the tear tracks running down his cheeks and around his eyes. Snorted, tried to get his chronically hitching breath back to normal. He couldn’t even remember what normal breathing felt like. The metal of the cuffs was surprisingly warm as they accidentally scratched at his face.

“So… What're, uh…” he whispered breathily. “What’re we gonna– gonna do about it?”

“The concussion?”

Stan nodded.

“Nothing to be done really. Just don't try anything stupid and you won't get tossed around again, I guess. But you can’t really treat a concussion.”

Stan clonked his head back against the wall with an exasperated whine. The mercenary just gave an amused shrug in return with an almost empathetic smile. “Maybe don’t do that though. Want some painkillers?”

“No,” Stan growled at the air. His vocal cords sounded strained and whiny from the crying, and he cleared his throat to get his voice back to normal. “I want you to let me go–”

Deeby scoffed, but Stan reinterrupted the interruption before he could start with another quip. “– OR failing that, I want you to leave me the-the hell alone!”

“Hm. Yeah, no. I'm bored. I’ve left you alone for the past day, and I think you're supposed to stay awake for a bit if you have a concussion anyway. So you're not going back to twitching on the floor for the time being. And I’ll assume you’ll get snarky if I say I wanna do something more physical…”

The mercenary stood up and went to go grab his chair, setting it down just a few feet away from Stan before patting the seat of the chair that he’d set down earlier, the one Stan had previously been tied to, flashing a smile that Stan could have almost mistaken as friendly with all the brain fog.

“So sit down, eat your protein bar. Let’s just have a chat.”

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy

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vinguist · 1 month

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I love when I see a post on the dash and I have no clue which fandom its from because the name is a generic white guy name or its from a fandom I've never even heard of before and I'm just trying to decipher what the story that they're theorizing about is.

#i love having multifandom moots bc of this #its a roulette wheel and every couple days a new challenger enters the ring of “who's this blorbo moot rb'd fanart for??”

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crunchyroaches27 · 2 months

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”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader

OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.

omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141

BACKGROUND INFO

everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking

there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here

Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad

Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow

Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky

And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.

Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚

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starsandhughes · 10 months

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u said blurb day and i heard u loud and clear

blurb of sissy missing jack and he’s sappy abt it bc sissy always seems to miss quinn more

The Ducks had yet to play the Devils this season, so it has been four months since you officially have seen Jack. You were with Trevor in Anaheim the last month of the summer, and Jack didn't exactly have time to drop everything and stop by. The Canucks had played against the Ducks at home a couple of weeks ago, so you've seen Quinn already this season. You always miss him, but you and Jack have both been so busy that even talking to each other hasn't been as frequent as it used to be.

You were laying on the couch scrolling through videos of you and Jack this past summer from your camera roll. You've already rewatched the video of you two doing the tortilla challenge three times and every time you couldn't stop laughing at Jack's face after you slapped him.

"What's got you so giggly?" Trevor asked as he entered the living room. He leaned over the back of the couch for a kiss, so you tilted your head back for a quick one.

"Videos of me and Jack this past summer," you replied. "We've barely talked because our schedules haven't been lining up."

"Aww, is my baby missing her twin?"

"Yes, she is as a matter of fact! Really bad, too!"

"Then it's a good thing that I just happen to know he's not doing anything right now," Trevor said smiling. His smile grew even bigger when he saw you light up at this new information.

You immediately pulled up facetime and called Jack. He picked up on the first ring, and you gasped with the sudden joy you felt seeing him.

"What's up, Sissy?" Jack answered the call.

"Nothing much, I just really miss you," you said earnestly.

Jack gave you a pout, "I miss you, too. I can't remember the last time we've gone this long without seeing each other."

"I'm not sure that we even have," you said sadly. "I hate it. Ditch your team and come over."

"I wish," Jack laughed. "We play the Canucks in two weeks. We'll see each other then."

That was still way too far away, in your opinion. You dramatically made that clear to Jack, but in all honesty, you were trying not to cry. Jack always sees through you though.

"Hey, it'll be okay," Jack cooed. "We have a five-day home stand next week that ends with us playing the Canucks. How about I fly you to Jersey for that week and a half?"

"Really?!" you asked excitedly.

"Yes, really! It starts this Saturday, so I'll book your flight for Friday. How does that sound?"

"Perfect!"

#penalty box series #penalty box series: blurbs #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #trevor zegras

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chailoserr · 1 year

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BLEACH HEADCANONS

just a bunch of silly little headcanons

characters included: shinji, rukia, urahara, kenpachi, uryuu, yoruichi, and aizen

warnings: a few sex jokes, but that’s pretty standard content from me

SHINJI

• eats peanut butter and jelly with goldfish on them probably

• he’ll stir macaroni aggressively to recreate bad sex noises

• this man watches spongebob squarepants religiously

• i think that if he were to try on clothes he’d be the kind of guy to say “do these yoga leggings make my ass look fat? please please please tell me my ass looks fat”

• i feel like he’s really bad at flirting

• the kind of guy to say “hey girl are you an elevator cuz you look like you could raise a child”

• someone has probably forced him to recreate the iconic evangelion shinji chair pose

• his blood stream is probably like, 89% mcdonald’s sprite

• i think he’d get really dramatic when listening to music and ichigo and rukia would just walk in on him and start bullying him

RUKIA

• probably has worn platform heels to grow taller than ichigo out of spite

• her favorite disney movie is probably brother bear, which is a top tier film

• if she were to have a full ass bedroom she probably get a bunch of cute stuff for it and organize everything

• when swimming she probably gets on renji’s shoulders while ichigo’s on chad’s shoulders and they play wrestle

• loves shopping with orihime probably, it’s like a whole new experience for her and she’s probably really amazed by everything

• definitely takes more than one sample from the samples table on accident

• when at the mall with orihime she wants to know this victoria and her secret

• orihime would probably have to drag her out of the place with a hand clapped over her eyes and the other holding rukia’s leg

• probably likes wearing rings

• she’ll try bonding with byakuya by reading about normal sibling things and be all like “brother! to bond we should try wearing a get along shirt together for 24 hours!”

• it’s stupid but byakuya wants to be a cool and nice older bro so they wear the shirt and look really proud while doing it

• rukia probably goes nuts for juice, especially if it was a juice flavored slushie

URAHARA

• this man probably goes dumpster diving for his clothes and there’s absolutely no shame in that game

• he’s definitely found a dumpster baby or two during his search

• looks like he eats subway and jersey mike’s religiously

• i think he’ll play like uno or poker with the kids

• probably stays up late talking to yoruichi about dumb shit like “what if pasta was purple—we should make pasta purple”

• i don’t think this man has cleaned his bucket hat in y e a r s

• he’ll claim that the smell is just his natural musk

• probably watches bad reality tv, stuff like love is blind

• he watched the entire twilight saga and had a blast doing it

• has probably pissed in a pool

• in fact, he probably makes it his mission to piss in every pool he enters

KENPACHI

• probably can’t cook

• idk how yachiru survived with him all those years bc i feel like he would try cutting up stuff to make food but it was cut TOO aggressively and it’s inedible

• probably let’s yachiru play with his hair

• he eats bowls of nails for breakfast…without any milk

• i feel like he’d run into a mannequin at a mall and then try to fight it bc it was “challenging” him

• sleep fights

• like it’s a natural thing for him, he just thrashes around and fights shit in his sleep

• when he gets too aggressive it’ll take a lot of people to hold him down and tell him “NO YOU CAN’T FIGHT THE BEES”

• has probably said “i don’t talk about feelings, i don’t have any, i’ve never seen one, i’m a night stalking, hollow fighting vigilante and a heavy metal rapping machine, i don’t feel anything emotionally except for R A G E, 24/7, 365, at a million percent, and if you think there’s something wrong with that, you’re crazy”

• but then he turns around and dresses up with ikkaku and yumichika for yachiru’s tea parties

URYUU

• i like to think that he enjoys collecting something weird, like garfield themed phones or paper clips

• he probably goes nuts in the office depot store

• he’s kind of awkward so i imagine he’d be the kind of person to just talk about his special interests to people and be like “ha, they should love me by now for knowing so much about this thing”

• canonically good at sewing and such so i think he actually enjoys making clothes for everyone like silly little hats and purses

• i think he does laundry for fun

• he’s probably the designated picture taker/quote book peep and he really enjoys it

• the man probably has organized BINDERS of quotes from the year, month, and d a y they were said

• i think he’d listen to lofi and bedroom pop kind of music while he worked on sewing or something

• has probably memorized the entire dictionary word for word

• i feel like he hates bugs

• like, terrified of them

• probably took up making friendship bracelets with orihime

• i think he’d enjoy aquariums

• he’d probably start giving everyone in the group specific facts about the fish they were seeing

• was definitely a lego kid, i can f e e l it

• if ichigo or someone was to bring a bag of skittles to share with the group, he’d probably stop them from eating, dump the skittles on a clean surface, and start organizing them by color before anyone could even touch them

• probably wasn’t allowed to watch spongebob growing up, twas only veggie tales

• his favorite veggie tales character was definitely archibald

• overall he’s a sweet boy

• his daddy needs to be nice to him

YORUICHI

• she seems like the type who is exclusively awake at night

• probably does dumb shit with urahara while she’s being nocturnal too

• karaoke? yes. shots? yes. talking about that aforementioned dumb shit? absolutely

• i feel like she’d wear dumb shirts like “this fisherman has a fat cock and he’s not afraid to use it as bait”

• they’re definitely gifts from urahara, but she loves em

• she probably likes going out to eat a lot

• i think she’d enjoy hooters, but in a respectful way

• probably enjoys being lazy and just breaking into urahara’s shop to crash there

• definitely enjoys pranks

• “guess who just walked the prank, kisuke, you’ll never guess who” she says as urahara barfs up the kimchi, milk, sprite, and pickle juice mixture that she tricked him into drinking

AIZEN

• staring off strong: he doesn’t know that women can g e t head

• you’d think he’d have big cock energy but that is simply not true, he’s just tryna compensate for his small pp

• sex jokes aside

• probably likes kale salad except kale is the only thing on the salad and it’s not a salad at all it’s just kale

• this man thinks eating ice cubes is fun

• “mmmm scrumptious, frozen water”

• he probably likes taking freezing ass showers

• and when asked how his sleep was he’s like “i don’t sleep, i only dream”

• his hair has enough product in it to put evil oil barons to shame

• they want his h a i r

• has a “natural musk” that’s akin to the smell of a bad danimals drink you spilled on the carpet of your car three months ago

• probably doesn’t actually know real spanish and he thinks that “las noches” means something super emo like “wolf rose full midnight sky kingdom🐺🥀”

• could be easily defeated if only ichigo and rukia had tried to sing CPR by cupcakke while they thought ONLY about the “hey ya” music video while ALSO doing the “hey ya” just dance choreography

• the chaos would surely throw him off his rhythm

#bleach #bleach manga #bleach anime #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #bleach rukia #bleach shinji #kenpachi zaraki #bleach aizen #bleach headcanons #bleach uryu #ishida uryuu #orihime inoue #bleach yoruichi #bleach urahara #kisuke urahara #aizen sousuke

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astraldrake · 2 years

Text

sketch/wip/unfinished nonsense dump but there's context bcs why not under a cut because otherwise it'd be six miles long

these are some boss arena sketches for achilles the upper sketch is a rough map with a few specific symbols denoting the location of corpses and trees, as well as a few notes pointing to the starting location of the boss and the player entry of the arena. The lower sketch is a set of scenes taking place in different parts of the arena. The first depicts a character entering the arena, the second is the character approaching the boss, and the third is a shot of the boss, now awake. In this hypothetical setting (game? thing? i have no clue what to call this really), Achilles guards the path to felwinter peak, an optional area (although what is in said optional area i have yet to fully decide, i think he may just be guarding a friendly npc or something).

The idea is that you have to beat him to access the area beyond. The arena is full of the corpses of previous heroes who had challenged him. You find him stuck in a wall of ice that's blocking your path, but he wakes upon seeing you, and thus begins his bossfight. At half health he gets overtaken by corruption and switches from solar to stasis attacks.

boss design thing for darren. sticking with the theme for a moment. I figure even after you beat him he doesn't die, and after recovering somewhat actually ends up helping you out later on.

His thing in this setting is that he's essentially become so saturated with light that it's taken a toll on him (i toyed with giving him the title 'Light-lost' in reference to how his nature as a person has been 'lost' to the light. im being veeery subtle). It's eaten away at his memory and identity and when you initially start the fight he's amnesic and confused, he knows he has to kill you but can't remember why. Despite this he's still incredibly powerful, hurling bolts of lightning and and slashing at you with two massive swords. After you deplete his first healthbar, he self resurrects, beginning to remember more and more, and kicks off his phase 2. If you survive the hail of blades and fire, you knock him prone, at which point he recalls enough to switch tactics and will become friendly, offering his aid in exchange for you to stop trying to kill him.

Elden Ring, O Elden Ring. I just couldn't figure out what to do with the background on this one. Also, I was very disappointed to find out that there was nothing that let you get the bird wings the crucible knights have. I have decided my tarnished has them anyway because they look sick as hell. (also they match the scythe, so, yknow.)

Character expression practice. I had a few more of these but I think these two turned out the best. (some of the other ones looked kinda unsettling and wrong) So many part of a face squish around when you emote, and if you miss something then the whole thing looks off.

been watching a bloodborne playthrough again. Had some very- shall we say self indulgent, ideas about universe hopping, and one particular adoptive grandchild of Aerrhiks. (that phrase is gonna mean nothing to anyone whose never heard of my ocs but eh) first sketch is some hunter armor, second is a design for a baby great one version of them.

should probably state here that my favorite way of doing crossovers (although i dont often share them) basically amounts to picking up one (or several) of my ocs and just plopping them down into the setting in question. Let chaos ensue and all that jazz. It's fun to see how the ocs will respond to their new setting, as well as thinking about how the setting might react to them in turn. (I also acknowledge that this method usually ends up breaking the narrative/setting/themes/etc at least a little if not a lot, and is by all accounts kind of a stupid and unintelligent way to interact w/ the source material, but have you considered? it's fun.) Anyways yeah, tldr for these is that I considered unleashing Ash on yharnam for enrichment purposes. (and then thought way too much on how that might end.)

And that's all I have for tonight! I might do another one of these at some point with some older things i never got around to sharing/finishing. We'll see.

#my art #astraldrake's art #destiny the game #oc: Achilles #oc: Darren #oc: Ash #oc: Varda #id tag er and bb but these are mostly my destiny ocs so for the sake of the occupants of those tags i will refrain #anyways #woe. me talking about my art and ideas be upon ye.

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Sugary 4k challenge masterlist

Thank you for all your wonderful entries. Challenge is still open till 30th April. Click here to join.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Andy Barber

A man's world by @gotnofucks

Summary: To advance in a man’s world, you must allow one to own you. He promises you success, as long as you give yourself to him.

Do what you please to me, I won't resist by @cloudystevie

Summary: you always take w,hat he gives you, diamonds and orgasms alike.

Maybe (Honey) by @anika-ann

Summary: You and your boyfriend Steve love each other; but money’s tight. You found and an unorthodox solution and decide to go through with it. Without Steve’s knowledge. Enter a very specific agency and Andy Barber.

Something sweet by @kleohoneyao3

Summary: Andy doesn’t mind flashing his cash to get what he wants. It always pays off in the end.

Strength in-between the breaks by @sweetlyscared

Summary: After witnessing a crime, you’re brought in to testify. You catch the eye of a certain lawyer, and soon after the case was wrapped, he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Oh well, imagine by @buckyownsmylife

Summary - The one where Andy gets tired of living a double life .

Rest of my life by @quietmyfearswith

Summary - While interviewing for Mr Barber's company's you catch the CEO's eye. He stalks you down and then sexy times ensue.

Chris Evans

Sugar by @buckybarnes101

Summary - Your sugar daddy Chris finally realises he's in love with you and wants you to be truly his.

Recommend a daddy by @nbarnes

Summary - When Addison runs out of money and is about to lose her house, her friends Auora and Sydney recommend to her a sugar daddy. Of course, there is one thing that is different to the other sugar daddy companies; there is a romantic relationship available.

Mike Weiss

Taste the riches of the earth by @the-iceni-bitch

Summary - You’ve been Mike’s sugar baby for a while, and as much as you want to deny it, you’re addicted.

Steve Rogers

Charming by @afriendlyblackhottie

Summary - Steve Rogers is a your sugar daddy. He takes care of you in every single way you can think of 👀👀

Clandestine meetings and stolen glances by @cruelfvkingsummer

Summary - Who knew Steve Rogers had kept such a pretty little secret? Or, the one where you were Peggy’s young, promising assistant until you became Steve Roger’s doll.

Daddy's intentions by @ironlady1993

Summary - Years after Thanos fall, the Avengers continue protecting the world. With new and younger members, Steve Rogers decided it was time to retire completely. After passing the Shield to Sam years ago, he stepped back as ‘Captain America’ focusing on his life for the first time after he woke up from the Ice. He could finally let his dark side, he so desperately had to hide, out. When he found Y/n, he could finally free the hungry beast in him, planning on turning her into his perfect little wife. And he knew how he would trap her into his arms forever.

i can be your china doll if you want to see me fall. boy, you’re so dope, your love is deadly by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: steve. so, i asked for help and you guys delivered, thank you! anonymous asked for wife/domestic kink. (the rest of your prompt might just be put in a part 2...) anonymous 2 asked for artist reader and a lovely cute meeting at an art gallery. anonymous 3 asked for a respectful, gentleman steve never pushing boundaries and some vintage lingerie

Paper rings by @our-marvel-universe

Summary - All Steve ever wants to do is take care of you.

Sweeter endings by @dollslayer

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

Misc.

You Can Be The Boss (Mob!Steve x reader x Mob!Bucky) by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Summary - Business Deals are done in the club most nights over liquor, drugs and you. Tonight is just like any other. You leave the stage to join your men while they deal with an ongoing issue.

Ransom Drysdale

Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend by @simsadventures

Summary - Ransom buys you a gift and you surprise him when you wear it for the first time. Safe to say, it’s a very good surprise for both of you.

"it’s dark but just a game”, that’s what he would say to me by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: ransom. some spoiling, some fighting, some drunk ransom.

Private lessons by @glazedhoneywriting

Summary - Ransom Drysdale is the fuck and leave em type, a trail of broken hearts behind him but with such sexual skill, he ought to have learned it somewhere. And when his past pops up in a bar, Ransom is reminded of how he got so good at sex and who taught him the ropes.

Robert Pronge

i could be yours, i could be your baby tonight, topple you down from your sky forty stories high by @chrisevansgoodgirl

summary: sugar daddy series: robert pronge. your dad has a long list of interesting employees, robert being one. (very light sugar daddy, more so the beginning of the relationship bc you know, he’s a murderer and that’s complex to work around).

#sugary4kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey x you #ransom drysdale x oc #ransom drysdale x reader

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fanficsandfluff · 3 years

Text

Lights Out, Nobody Home

Fandom: Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Characters: Sam Wilson (Falcon), Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Words: 1,766

Okay here you go lmao. Bc @bigirlgiggles and @ticklingmood showed interest. Unfortunately, loves, I forgot to mention there was zero tickling in it *cries*

The tone is so bad, it’s bordering on offensive hurt/comfort..... I wrote it in a sleepy daze I just needed to write something.

We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.

... and never see each other again.

I like that.

"I like that?" Bucky muttered to himself aloud in the back of a cab that was taking him home. Did Sam... No, he couldn't have known. He can't be feeling the same way as me right now. That's why he said that in the first place. But why did he have to give him that answer? That curt response that he didn't at all mean?

Bucky unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, the whole place oddly quiet and dark. He left the lights off as he roamed around, getting himself a drink. And drink he did.

Bucky had the news on the television, not often changing channels. He wasn't the sitcom-at-midnight kind of viewer. With no inkling for sleep in mind, Bucky finished the pack of beer he just bought (and dammit was hoping to save and spread out because now he needed more).

Never See Each Other Again.

Bucky's eyes burned. No. No no nonono...

Could Sam see in his eyes how clouded they were in that police interrogation room? As they were forced to stare at each other, legs intertwined. Did Sam pick up on his moment of weakness?

Bucky heard his phone make its ringing sound and he looked down at the coffee table at it. Area code could've been Sam's... He didn't flick the phone open, just put it back down and let it ring.

"And you agreed... You sorry sack of shit--Fuck!" Bucky had shattered the final beer bottle he held in his metal arm, and it surprised him. He whisked off the dripped residue from his arm, brushing off any broken glass from his thighs. Fucking knew it, Buck. You knew to get cans instead of bottles, but they were out of cans, so we settled for bottles and look what the fuck happens.

His eyes were still burning, and he kept them that way for so long his sinuses were starting to get sore. He moved slowly and calculated, cleaning up the glass shards in the dark apartment. The flickering TV didn't illuminate enough, it seems, as a forgotten piece sliced into his palm when he went feeling around between the couch cushions. Without much of a reaction from him, he pulled out the shard and tossed it away like the others.

A ring of his doorbell happened next and Bucky went into full alert mode. "God dammit..." he didn't think he was mentally ready to act as a functioning member of society right now.

Bucky tiptoed to the door and looked out the peephole, actually sighing out loud when he saw Sam and his raised eyebrow. Then he knocked.

Bucky cracked the door open and before he could get a word out, Sam said, "Woah... we living in full darkness over here? I feel like I'm actually entering your physical mind right now. Electricity bills must be cheap."

Bucky moved to close the door but Sam's hand reached in, "Hey! Hey, Buck, I just want--"

"Don't call me that."

"You're right, I forgot. I'm sorry," and Sam meant it, "Can I come in?"

Bucky took a few beats, and Sam let him have them, before he threw open the deadbolt and let Sam inside. Sam immediately flicked the light switch on.

When Sam did that, Bucky went to the windows and shut all the blinds and pulled the curtains fully tight, wincing when the cut in his palm was slid through the rope attached to the blinds.

"I thought we could talk," Sam started speaking again.

"Haven't we done enough of that today?"

"Without Nurse Ratched supervising," Sam looked over stained spots on the couch and all the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. It made him frown. Bucky was staring at him already and he looked back.

"I think we both made our points," Bucky said and he made the move to clear all the bottles out of the room once he picked up on Sam observing them. That's when Sam caught sight of the red palm.

"You good?" he moved forward, instinct taking over to reach for Bucky's hand. Bucky pulled that arm to his chest and took several steps back, "I'm perfect."

Sam's brow furrowed and he scoffed, "Shit, man... did anyone ever tell you you're stubborn?"

"Several people, yes."

Sam let the silence hang after the mild snarky comments, and he gathered up three of the bottles in his hand, taking them to the kitchen recycling. Bucky took the rest and he stayed in the kitchen to wash out his hand. Sam watched him and then he watched Bucky's face as he let the water run over his wound.

"Now who's staring?"

Sam smiled, "You know, you always look like you're one comment away from crying." He said it. He said that and he meant absolutely no teasing or malice from it. Sam tried in the most earnest way to reach out to the ex-Winter Soldier.

Bucky hardened his jaw and he turned the faucet off. He grabbed a paper towel and carefully shredded it from its group, holding it in his human hand. In this instant, he was afraid to stare. He was afraid to meet Sam's eyes for fear of actually breaking down into tears. But then he challenged that thought and shared eyesight with Sam.

"Wh-What do you want?" ah, fuck. He fucking stuttered.

"The comment I made. The closing statement. I said it to get us out of that room and out here so we can help," he paused to think of what to say next, "It worked. Right?"

Wrong way to say things, Wilson. Bucky skirted himself around Sam to walk back towards the living room.

"I've read people's faces for a living, Bucky. Faces like yours. What I said about us never seeing each other again, I saw what it did to you. As hard as you try to hide it," Sam followed him, watching Bucky take a seat on his couch.

"I'm waiting for an apology."

"Well, then you'll be waiting for a while because I'm not giving one. I'm explaining myself, since you didn't want to listen in that room--"

"I listened. I asked questions that I wanted answers to. Steve wanted--"

"Bucky, Steve ain't here anymore," Sam sat down besides Bucky on the couch, facing him, looking at him with a caring intensity, "He's not. I made the choice I thought was right, I don't know how many times I have to say it. I told him it didn't feel like mine, I told him I wasn't ready. Tell me you haven't ever felt like that in your life... unprepared for a burden you knew would be fucking monumental. I donated the shield. I didn't vote to create a new Cap. Bucky..." Sam's voice wavered and dropped to a whisper when he saw tears trickling down Bucky's cheeks.

Bucky scrunched his face up and turned away from Sam. He didn't make much noise. He just sat and let the hot tears run down his face. This had to be a lesson in bottling emotions... don't fucking do it otherwise you'll explode like a fire hydrant with tears all at once.

Sam didn't move, didn't think to make a move. He heard Bucky sniffle once to get an intake of breath and he reached out a hand and placed it on the other man's shoulder.

"I... I'm touched you feel that attached to me. That you want to make this work, and you couldn't live without me, because hey, I don't blame you--"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up," Bucky sniffled again, now wiping at his nose that was threatening to run.

Sam started to laugh and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Bucky's arm as he let his laugh out. Even Bucky wasn't immune. He was looking anywhere but at Sam, wet eyes darting around, but he was kind of smiling. It was a small one and the tear streaks and red eyes weren't helping him out there. Bucky shoved Sam off his arm after a few seconds, "Get off."

"Are we gonna be able to get to work on this?"

Bucky nodded, now wiping his eyes. Sam quickly got up and retrieved another paper towel for Bucky to use to clean off his face as opposed to swiping his cold metal appendage all over it.

"You still love me?"

Bucky eyed Sam and saw that cheeky bastard revel in what he asked, "No."

"I'm hurt."

"Good."

"Buck."

"I said don't call me--"

"...yyyy. Buckyyyy. Yo, you didn't even let me finish, you're so angry all the time. Oh--oH! Oho, now he's clamming up again! Did I hurt your feelings?"

"You are so rude, did you know that?"

Now Sam was laughing again.

Bucky continued, "I'm over here crying and pouring my heart out and you just keep..." he mimed a stabbing motion in midair, "... keep twisting that knife. You're never satisfied. I'm your asshole punching bag for anything quippy and-- Sam," Bucky was staring at the man nearly losing it from laughing at him so much, "This isn't funny, I'm being serious. I'm opening up to you, you dick. This is what your problem is."

Bucky was frowning, but he knew inside he felt no hate. Was this growth? Maybe. He was just insatiably annoyed by the fucking Falcon.

"You're a dick," Bucky said again, and Sam had quelled his laughter most of the way. Bucky reached out with his metal appendage and tweaked Sam's side.

"Hehey! Don't you try tickling me! You know what you're gonna get?"

"Get out of my house. Time to leave."

Sam was being ushered towards the door.

"Hey, I take back what I said," Sam leaned against the front door with Bucky ready to push him through it, "About the long vacation. I can't leave you alone for long. So, it looks like we're stuck together."

Bucky stared, studied.

"Thanks for coming over. You're so fucking annoying, though," and Bucky even flashed a smile when Sam giggled again.

"I'm glad I came. I watched you go through a whirlwind of emotions I didn't even know your android brain had."

"Goodnight, Sam," Bucky reached across the man and opened the door for him.

"I'll see you tomorrow so we can get to work."

Bucky nodded. He shut the door, clicking the locks back into place. Hmm... couples therapy might be the key.

#the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #falcon #winter soldier #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson and bucky barnes #hurt/comfort #sam comforting bucky #friendship #partners #crying #emotional #happy ending #marvel #tfatws fanfiction

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sestra-inestro · 4 years

Text

Part of the Team (4/?)

Miniseries for @mushyjellybeans writing challenge. Hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: fem!reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Reader returns to the compound after a very long time and you try to adjust to everything again while the team deliberate about what to do with the truth.

Warnings: Angst, lies, nightmares, and amnesia. This gif bc she’s cute.

The team prepared everything for your arrival back at the compound. They set up your room and they cleaned almost everything, wanting you to feel as comfortable and at home as they could.

After getting rid of everything that you even remotely enjoyed out of spite years ago, Tony made sure to replace everything and fill your old room with your old decorations and the snacks that you once liked.

Every time they put a box of your favorite cookie or snack on the self or your favorite drink in the fridge, their hearts twinged a small bit.

You were such a good friend and you took everything they gave to you, and now you couldn’t even remember it.

They all in some way hated themselves and they didn’t need Thor to remind them of that.

You and Nat walked off the quinjet, with her carrying your bags and you carrying what little stuff you could. A little bag of clothes that they peeled off of you in surgery, the toiletries that you have been collecting in hospital and your new medication.

“Well, nothing looks like it’s changed.” You said, squinting slightly as you looked up at the compound and the sun invaded your vision.

“Tony actually had a movie room installed.” Nat looked back at you.

Your eyes widened. “He did?”

“Yep, now we have proper movie nights after a mission.” Nat’s smile fell slightly, you had been very excluded from those movie nights when it was installed. There were nights when she walked passed the living quarters and you had fallen asleep alone on the couch with movie credits playing.

“I know the best seat in there, I’ll save it for you.” She winked at you, causing you to blush.

Walking through the compound to the living quarters, you were met with the team.

“Welcome back June!” Wanda cheered as she saw you enter, running over to give you a soft hug.

“Hi!” You said happily. The rest of the team came over slowly and gave you gentle hugs, careful not to hurt your still recovering wounds.

“It’s really good to have you back here.” Tony said with a nice smile.

“I’m glad to be home.” You had little greetings with everyone before you moved onto your room.

Nat led you to a room that was right next door to yours.

“Is this my room now?” You asked in confusion. Your room used to be up another floor with Clint and Sam.

“Oh,” Nat said in realization. “Yeah, when we got together we put in a request to have us moved closer together so Tony moved you down here.” She explained.

“That’s nice.” You smiled at that thought, you did think the rooms were a bit bigger on the lower floors.

She pushed open the to see a perfectly decorated room, like you had never been moved.

Photos had been placed on shelves of you and your family, also ones of the team. Your bedding had been replaced and some artwork was laid across the walls.

“Courtesy of Stark.” Nat said as you stared at the strange abstract artwork.

“Huh,” you mumbled in response. Looking at all the shelves a shine caught your eye.

A framed medal stood proud on the shelf, shining under the window light. A tiny circular medal with an A inside it.

“What’s this?” You ask, mostly to yourself as you lift the face carefully and hold it to close for you to see.

Nat turned from where she was unpacking your clothes to see you holding the frame. She had it framed the day after you left and set it in her room. She is very proud of you for that and decided that it should be shown off even if you hated it.

“Oh,” She forgot her words for a moment. “You, uh, you were awarded that a little while ago.”

You turned to her, surprised and very confused. “Why me?”

“Because you were a part of a very important and private investigation almost three years ago. It ended a couple of months ago and you and a few others were given a medal.” She explained. “It was a big investigation. And we didn’t know about it. That caused a few problems in the compound.”

“Was that the misunderstanding that broke us up?” You asked.

Nat’s body stilled. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to tell you how brutal she was to you. She hated the fact that she caused the most hurt for you.

“Yes, it was. But that was not your fault.” She got closer to you, watching you observe the medal. “You saved a lot of people. A whole country from corruption.”

You looked up at her, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“And you deserve it, June.” Nat lifted her hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek.

You stood in her embrace, her green eyes connecting with yours, she searched your eyes for the emotions that you were feeling, she hoped to read you.

You couldn’t help but lean into her. You felt the need to be as close to her as you could.

She leaned into you as well, your lips just touching. But before you could kiss her, she hesitated.

You pulled back to look at her face and frowned in confusion.

Nat just gave you a closed-lipped smile and rested her forehead against yours.

“Believe me, I really want to.” She almost whispered to you. “I really want to. But you just got back.” She swallowed before continuing. “You’re recovering. You barely know me.”

“I know you perfectly well, Nat.” You said, reassuring her. “And during this relationship, I can get to know you more.” You reached up to her hand on your cheek and put pressure on it, keeping her close.

She caresses your face, feeling the skin she has so long wanted to feel. She was soaking up this moment, but she had to pace herself and allow you to heal. From everything.

“Ms. Romanoff, your presence has been requested in the common room.” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice spoke through the room.

Natasha sighed. She gave you a light kiss on the forehead and gently pulled away from you.

“I’ll see you later. Get settled back in.” She told you before leaving the room.

“We have to tell her eventually.” Bucky said.

“And we will.” Tony told him. “But we should really let her settle in first. She just got back and she’s still recovering.”

Nat nodded. Bucky was right, and so was Tony. She should know but she should be able to feel welcome and know they are sorry when she does know. Both came from the best intentions.

“But if we wait too long then it will backfire.” Steve gave his thoughts.

“You’re all right.” Fury said, announcing his presence. “She should know, and when she is ready, she will know. Don’t give it to her to fast, it might confuse her and scare her off. But, try before she remembers it on her own.”

He turned to Natasha. “I think it might be best if you break it to her, you might be the one she trusts the most at the moment.”

Nat watched him walk away. The guilt was eating at her and the fear of reliving you walking away from her only fed that guilt. And now, the pressure was added. But eventually, you will need to know. You deserve that much.

“June! Get out of there!”

“He’s going to get away!”

“He’s not worth your life!”

Voices were screaming at each other in your mind. Different accents around you and flashing images of people in uniform, a dark building and lots of smoke.

You saw men running with guns, a tall woman running next to you and the sound of gunshots ringing through the air.

“Stop! June!” The British tall woman ordered you.

You stopped, but lights were coming at your face quickly.

You wake with a gasp as the lights made impact. Sweat dripped down your neck and made you feel bothered.

You sat up and threw off the covers, quickly moving your feet to the door and walking at.

Your knuckles rap on Natasha’s door quickly before opening it.

“Nat.” You whimpered, closing the door behind you. She was already out of the bed and standing.

Without thought, she opened her arms for you, which you immediately run into.

You let the tears flow into her singlet as her fingers went o your hair and massage your scalp.

“Shh, it’s okay.” She nuzzled into your hair. “C’mon. Sleep in here.”

She gently pulled you to her bed, climbing in with you. She wrapped herself around you to keep you safe and warm. You kept your forehead and nose pressed against her chest, breathing in her scent and allowing yourself to calm down.

You feared the unknown, but what you did know was that it was safe and comfortable with Nat, and those longing feelings were never going away.

Nat quietly whispered in your ear sweet words, lulling you to sleep and running her fingers through your hair.

And that’s where you slept for the next couple of months.

With Nat.

Tags: Please show some love by reblogging, liking and commenting. I really appreciate it, my loves.

@geekysimmerthings / @blackluthxr / @panoramahearts / @lesbiiionist / @ludwigvonbaethoven / @cdc-1996 / @sexysamsungl / @daniellajocelyn / @90skid018 / @solaettristis / @5aftermidnight / @booksandlighters / @romeo-the-cactus / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @ashadash0904 / @perrythefrickinplatypus / @ess0h / @hollandsaetre / @mrlilcan

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theasshat59 · 3 years

Text

Howdy everyone today I’m going to be talking about a series I do on the app Amino that I’m bringing over here. Now to give y’all a taste for the Series I’m gonna put 10 matches from Season 1&2 (10-6 in this part 5-1 in the next) in chronological order with some context for the matches. So please have a read and tell me what you think.

Match 10

Context:Alexa Bliss won the Raw women’s championship on Episode 3 of MyWWE and from then had assistance in her reign from Mickie James. Although on the build to summerslam she was thrown two opponents in Bayley and Ronda Rousey. In the Summerslam main event could Alexa beat the odds or did one of her opponents push her off her pedestal?

Alexa Bliss(c) vs Bayley vs Ronda Rousey Summerslam S1. For the Raw women’s championship.

Before Alexa could enter Bayley would hit a bulldog on Bayley then the pair would exchange strikes until Ronda knocked Down Bayley. Ronda would then go for a rolling piper’s pit but Bayley would turn it into a Oscar. Bayley would then try for a bayleyplex Into the corner but Ronda would reverse into a hip toss. Followed by a step up knee strike. Ronda would then hit a barrage of punches into the corner before Bayley would kick her away and would hit a springboard crossbody out of the corner. Bayley would then hit a bayley to belly when finally Alexa would make her entrance

Alexa theme would hit and she’d make her way to the ring.

Alexa would slam Bayley into the mat with by her hair she’d then hit a bliss DDT on Ronda. Bayley would then hit a lou threz on Alexa until Alexa pushes her out of the ring. Alexa would then go for a arm wringer on Ronda but Ronda would death stare her so Alexa would run out of the ring. So Ronda would laugh until bayley went for a bayley to belly but Ronda reversed into a judo throw. Ronda would hit piper’s pit for a two count. Ronda would go to the top rope for a crossbody but Alexa would grab her foot but Ronda would kick her off before bayley hit a super bayley to belly on Ronda for the three count eliminating her. Alexa would then roll up bayley but bayley would roll through and would hit a German suplex Alexa would go to the Apron where Bayley hit a rope assisted stunner. Bayley would then put Alexa on the announcer table and would hit a macho elbow drop from the top but oh wait no she didn’t Alexa would get pulled off the desk by mickie James mickie would hit a mick kick then she’d go for mick ddt but bayley would reverse into a bayleyplex into the barricade. Alexa would then roll bayley into the ring and would hit a bliss DDT for a two count. Mickie would then throw in a chair as Alexa hit insult to injury then She’d go for a twisted bliss but bayley would put her knees up then she’d bayley to belly Alexa into the chair she’d pin but Mickie would break it up. Bayley would then break the chair over Mickie’s head. She’d then Bayleyplex Mickie our of the ring But Alexa would roll her up but Bayley would turn it into a roll up of her own for the win. After the match Bayley would hit a bayley to belly. Mickie would try to help Alexa but Alexa would push her away and would go backstage.

Winner:Bayley

Match 9

Context:After Bayley seemingly snapped on Summerslam she’d attack her opponents viciously but still kept her smiley demeanour, however after losing in a tag match with Allie she had to have a rematch with the woman who made her snap, on Alexa’s terms. Alexa acting bold decided to challenge the new raw women’s champion to an Iron-woman match. Did Alexa’s scheme work, or is Bayley just the better woman?

Alexa Bliss(c) vs Bayley vs Ronda Rousey Summerslam S1. For the Raw women’s championship.

Bayley(c) vs Alexa Bliss in the first and only iron person match in MyWWE history at HIAC S1

[B]30:00 (Alexa:0 Bayley: 0)

Alexa would slap Bayley repeatedly until Bayley caught her hand and hit a dropkick Alexa would hit a wheelbarrow arm drag then she’d go for another but Bayley would roll through the Arm drag and would hit a running double axe handle followed by a bayleplex, She’d then go to the top rope for a macho elbow drop but Alexa would push her to the floor she’d then climb the ropes and would go for a crossbody but Bayley rolled through and would slam Alexa into the barricade.

Alexa would jump the barricade but bayley would follow her but Alexa would hit a wicked right hand Bayley would fall into the crowd but the crowd pushed her back up so she could hit a gut kick followed by a uppercut. Bayley would then slam Alexa into a wall by her hair. Bayley would then Irish whip Alexa and would go for a clothesline but Alexa would dodge her and would then hit a blissful DDT for the pin.

[B]25:00 (Alexa: 1 bayley 0)

Alexa would then hit insult to injury followed by a a leg crusher. Alexa would grab a chair and would put it on Bayley’s leg and would repeatedly stomp. Bayley would start crawling away in clear agony but Alexa would then lock in a figure 4 Bayley would start crawling then she was passed a crutch from the crowd she’d use it to get out by hitting Alexa she’d then try to stand but she couldn’t so she used the crutch but Alexa would hit a chop block.

[B]20:00

Alexa would drag Bayley back to ring side and would hit a dragon screw she’d then slammed bayley’s leg into the steps. Alexa would throw bayley in the ring followed by a ladder she’d then open the ladder on its side and would wrap bayley’s leg around it. She’d then slam the ladder. Then she’d set up the ladder and would go up a couple runs for insult to injury.

[B]15:00

Alexa would head to the top of the ladder and went for twisted Bliss but bayley rolled out of the way and would then hit a bayley to belly for the pin.

[B]13:00 (Alexa:1 Bayley: 1)

Bayley would then climb the ropes but would crash to the mat when Alexa dropkicked her leg. Alexa would then try to pull up Bayley but bayley hit a stunner. Bayley would the. Go to the top rope and when Alexa got up she hit a elbow for a two count. She’d then hit a Bayleyplex into the ladder. But then Mickie James would come out of no where and hit a dragon screw on Bayley and would help Alexa up. “COME QUICKER NEXT TIME” Mickie would then Slap Alexa and would hit a Mick DT and would pull Bayley on her 1...2... alexa kicked out. Mickie would try for a mick kick but Alexa caught and through her out of the ring but Bayley would roll her up 1...2... kick out.

[B]9:00

Bayley would go for a bayley to belly but Alexa kicked in her knee and would go for a bliss ddt but Bayley reversed into a northern lights. She’d then go to the top rope but Alexa would meet her up there. Alexa would hit a super bliss ddt, but they’d both hit the floor hard and only got up at 6:00.

The pair would exchange punches until Alexa hit a wicked right hand and would go to the steps for a double axe handle but Bayley caught and hit a bayley to belly into the apron and would roll her in the ring for a two count. Bayley would then hit a macho elbow drop for a two count. Alexa would then hit a code red for a two count. Bayley would then hit a single leg dropkick but would hold her leg in pain until Alexa went to the top rope but Bayley met her hair and hit a super Bayleyplex for a two count.

[B]1:00

Bayley would hit a rock bottom but Alexa would get up and would hit a bliss ddt for a two count.

[B]00:30

bayley would hit a right hand and but again only a two count. Bayley would then hit a sunset flip into the corner.

[B]00:20

Bayley would then go to the top rope but Alexa would meet her there.

[B]00:15

Alexa would go for a super bliss ddt but bayley got out and the pair exchanged punches.

[B]00.10

But bayley would then hit a super bayley to belly. And as the ref counted 3 the timer hit 0.

[BC]Winner: Bayley

Match 8

Context:Becky Lynch became the first MyWWE smackdown women’s champion but after her first defence she was injured until her return at Summerslam where she won back the belt. From then on she’d have championship open challenges on smackdowns to prove her claims of being The Man. However after Natayla failed to defeat Becky at TLC Natayla didn’t take it well and would attack Becky. Natayla soon decided since neither had lost a match to submission yet she’d challenge Becky to an I quit match. Was the niece of the Legendary Technician Bret Hart in her battleground and took the belt home? Or did Becky truly live up to being the man?

Becky Lynch(c) vs Natayla at Royal Rumble S2 in an I Quit match for the Smackdown Women’s championship.

Natayla would hit a Dropkick Followed by a gut lift powerbomb Sending Becky to the corner where Natayla hit some elbows until Becky kicked her away she hit a middle turnbuckle clothesline Becky would attempt a pump handle exploder but Natayla hit a massive elbow followed by a back Drop kick sending Becky to the apron. Natayla then hit a back suplex on the apron then Natayla hit an Alabama slam onto the barricade. Becky would crawl into the ring then Natayla followed by Becky hit an enzuguri Becky then attempted a suplex into the corner but Natayla reversed into a slingshot suplex off the ropes then hit her signature stomp/basement Dropkick. Natayla then pulled up Becky by the hair then hit a powerbomb no Becky punched her then locked in a rope hung arm bar. Natayla would then lift up Becky and went for a powerbomb to the out side but Becky Reversed into a ddt no wait Natayla reversed into a suplex no Becky would stop it and then hit a Bayleyplex to the outside but both would be nearly unconscious. Becky would pull up Becky but Natayla turned it into a Alabama slam no she hit a air raid crash instead. Laughing Natayla dragged Becky to the stage by her hair. Natayla then locked in a Sharpshooter But Becky would crawl until she got to the ramp and she got given a chair that she’d use to hit Natayla until she let go Becky would get up and drove the chair into Natayla then hit a float over Ddt into the Chair. Becky would get up and gave the chair back the the fan. Becky would then go backstage and moments later Becky dragged out a trash can with kendo sticks and barbwire bats in it and she dragged a table Becky would lean the table against the minitron and pulled up Natayla and went for a Bexplex but Natayla pushed her into the table but got hit with a punch then a flurry of them until she tumbled over the bin Becky would raise her fist but would fall to her knee after she got Hit in the back with a kendo stick. Natayla admiring her kendo stick thought up and idea. Natayla from behind would choke Becky with the kendo stick “come on Becky Quit in front of these idiots who actually think you’re not an Irish idiot. Natayla would continue to choke and Becky would start going purple but Becky saw the bin in front of her and grabbed it and hit Natayla over the head with it leaving a bitch shaped dent in it. Becky would caught blood but soon caught her breath. She’d go for a clothesline but got hit with a nattie by nature no Becky dodged and hit a spinning gut kick followed by a Lou threz Becky would punch Natayla until she busted her open. Natayla then pushed Becky through the curtain to the backstage area. Natayla would follow her and the pair would exchange punches until Natayla whipped Becky into a crate. Then into the camera.

After about 3 minutes another camera caught up to them. They were now outside in the parking lot. Becky would uppercut Natayla onto a car but as she got up Natayla would hit a sit out powerbomb into the windshield destroying it Natayla then hit a basement Dropkick sending Becky into the car. Natayla would try to open the car door but it was locked then Becky kicked her in the head breaking the window. Natayla would go to one knee until Becky unlocked the car and Smashed the door into Natayla. When Becky got out of the car she was covered in blood and glass. She’d look back at the car “it’s a rental anyway” Becky the pulled up Natayla and hit a bexplex onto the hood then Becky got on the roof and locked in a dis-arm-her Natayla would nearly quit but she would eventually Push Becky off the car onto the road off the car park. Natayla would then walk back to the ring and grabbed a mic “I’m winning this thing in the ring so Becky either quit or get your dick in this ring Natayla threw the mic out of the ring. Soon Becky would Storm the ring and stared at Natayla and without a second doubt she hit an headbutt that gave me a headache Blood would pure from both foreheads but neither fell and Natayla hit a nattie by nature then rolled out of the ring and would hold her head at medics ran to her but she pushed them away and grabbed a ladder and rolled in the ring and leaned it in the middle rope and jumped on it to hit a double axe Handle when Alexa Bliss’ theme hit and Alexa brought the table to ringside and set it up and go to the apron but got kicked in the gut Becky would jump up but Natayla threw her to the apron next to Alexa and Natayla hit a double powerbomb through the table. Natayla then tossed Becky into the ring then Irish whipped Becky into the ladder no Becky whipped her instead. Becky would then roll out of the ring and dragged an Anvil out! Becky couldn’t lift it so she rolled into the ring and hit a springboard super kick to Natayla sending her out of the ring. Becky went for a powerslam but Natayla reversed by hitting a powerslam of her own onto the Anvil. Becky would stay on the Anvil. Natayla then grabbed a sledgehammer “time for some forging” Natayla would swing the hammer at Becky but Becky Rolled off it and luck she did because The Hammer head split in half and went flying. Becky and Natayla would run in the ring but Natayla hit a gut kick then hit a stalling suplex onto the ladder. Natayla would get on the Ladder but Becky Rolled off and swept her legs then she climbed to the top turnbuckle and hit a back leg drop causing her to injury her leg. But Becky would get up the get back on the ladder but Natayla kicked her injured knee and hit a running powerslam off the Ladder onto the mat. Becky would get to her hands and knees and Natayla hit curb stomp Natayla locked in a romeo special but Becky got her legs free and flipped onto the ladder and while still holding Natayla’s arms went for a hurricanranna but Natayla turned it into a last ride on the ladder then Natayla went to the top rope (not turnbuckle) and hit a Canadian destroyer on the Ladder followed by a sharpshooter on the Ladder after awhile Natayla would pull as much as she could then wrapped her arm around Becky’s neck Becky would scream “I QUIT” after a minute or two.

Winner:Natalya

Match 7

Context:”Bayley would dominate Raw since her championship win at Summerslam even seriously injuring one of her opponents in Allie, however fellow 4 horsewoman Sasha Banks was also a prominent figure as Divas Champion, after a failed attempt to take the Raw women’s championship Sasha was challenged by Bayley to a Royal Rumble match for both titles as Bayley was still angry from Sasha Attacking her once tag partner in the early episodes of the series, Did Bayley continue her reign through Sasha? Or did Sasha get another opportunity to lose in her first defence again?

Bayley(c) vs Sasha Banks(c) for the Raw women’s and divas championships at Royal Rumble S1.

The pair circled the ring until Bayley hit a running double axe handle Bayley would the Stand over Sasha and continually punched her in the face until Sasha Grabbed the ropes and used them to propel herself out of the ring to the floor. She’d Start getting up as Bayley Followed Bayley went for a butterfly Suplex but Sasha rolled through and whipped Bayley into the Apron by her hair. Sasha rolled Bayley back into the Ring and Climbed to the top rope no Bayley met her there and hit a back breaker onto the turnbuckle Bayley would pull her up “this is for Being a bitch in NXT” Bayley hit a chop “this is for ruining my championship run on Raw” bayley hit two chops “this is for Being in the spot like in Boss and hug” Bayley hit two chops “this is for betraying me” bayley hit a massive chop sending Sasha off her feet. But Bayley pulled her back up and trapped her in the ropes

“And this is Because You deserve worse” Bayley constantly hit chops until The Ref pulled her away. Sasha would hold her chest but would stare at Bayley and hit a roundhouse 1...2... kick out Sasha would then pull up Bayley for three amigos but Bayley would Knee her in the head and hit a ddt. 1...2.. kick out. Bayley would lock in a STF Sasha would crawl to the ropes but before she grabbed then Bayley pulled back Sasha determined would stretch out her fingers and middle finger just touched it but It was enough Bayley had to let go. Bayley then went for a German Suplex But Sasha blocked Bayley would go again but Sasha wrapped her legs around Bayley. Bayley would charge at the corner but Sasha stopped it then hit a modified deadly night shade 1...2.. kick out. Bayley would get up using the ropes and hit a back elbow when Sasha approached. Bayley then went to the middle turnbuckle but Sasha Dropkicked her over the ropes but Bayley held on but she was upside down Sasha went to the top turnbuckle and hit a double knees onto the apron although she did injure her knee but Bayley took most of the damage as her head bounced off the apron

Sasha would then hit a elevated swing neckbreaker off the apron restarting the count. Sasha would throw Bayley into the apron. Sasha rolled back in the ring and bounced off the ropes and hit a suicide dive causing both to go through the Spanish announce desk.

Sasha would toss bayley back in the ring 1...2... kick out Sasha would start crying. Bayley would sit up which was a mistake because Sasha hit a basement meteroa and went straight into the pin 1...2... kick out. Bayley would get up and the pair exchanged punches until Sasha hit a massive slap turning Bayley around. Sasha then hit a back stabbed into a bank Statement Bayley would nearly tap but while Sasha still held on Bayley stood up then hit a sidewalk backbreaker when Sasha got up Bayley hit a gut kick followed by a bayley Driver no Sasha pushed her into the ropes and on the rebound hit a code breaker. Sasha then went to the top turnbuckle but Bayley somehow met her there and went for a bayleycanrana but Sasha punched her causing her to land on the apron Sasha would catch her breath but Bayley would go back to Brooklyn as she hit an Avalanche reverse Frankensteiner but this time to the outside!

Bayley Rolled in the ring

Bayley knocked down the ref.

Sasha would then barely conscious rolled in the ring and Bayley hit a bayley to belly as the red got up 1...2... kick out. Bayley would then throw Sasha to the apron then she hit a elevated flat liner 1...2... kick out bayley shocked pinned again 1...2... kick out Bayley then climbed to the top Turnbuckle and hit a Bayley Elbow drop no Sasha dodged and locked in a Bank Statement Bayley would the scratch at Sasha’s eyes and rolled Sasha up 1...2...3!

[BC]Winner:Bayley

Match 6

Context:After Becky’s lost she was drafted to Raw however after Elimination Chamber she disguised herself and became smackdown women’s championship number one contender. Natayla angered by this continued her attacks, but Becky fought back and soon it was set, a Death match. Was Becky’s connection to Smackdown too strong for her to not win, or did Natayla find her element in brutality and perfected her technique in it?

Natayla (c) vs Becky Lynch in a death match at WM S1. For the Smackdown women’s championship.

Both rolled out and and Natayla grabbed 3 chairs, a ladder, table with barb wire, and a pane of Glass, and Becky Grabbed a barb wire kendo stick, and a bag with mysterious content and the put it in the ring. Natayla set up a chair near the corner and Becky leaned the table in the other corner. The pair would stare at each other then Becky went to toss Natayla into the table no Natayla tossed her into the chair. Becky would sit on it and Natayla went for a Dropkick but No Becky gave her a flying forearm. Becky then grabbed the kendo stick and whaled Natayla with it Until Natayla Rolled out. Natayla then grabbed a table from the apron and put it in the ring and looked for something as this happened Becky exposed the wood in the corner of the ring. Natayla then Rolled in the ring with a flammable liquid but Becky grabbed her and went for a bexplex into the exposed ply Natayla reversed by giving her some elbows then threw her into the table. Natayla then slammed Becky’s head into the barb wire until Becky started bleeding and Natayla hit a German 1. Kick out. Natayla then Pulled up Becky looking for a powerslam onto the chair and hit it. Natayla smiled then hit a running powerslam through the table. Natayla then Pulled her up and slammed her face into the chair and kept her face on it. Natayla then grabbed a other chair and hit Becky’s head with it. Becky Rolled out of the ring. Natayla would follow but Becky tosses her over the barricade. Becky then grabbed the top part of the chair and pushed it in the ring. Becky Rolled out to get the other part of the steps but Natayla hit a clothesline from behind. Natayla then hit a stalling suplex onto the steps. Natayla then put the bottom part of the steps in the ring and put the steps back together near the ply wood. Becky Rolled in the ring and hit a float over ddt. Becky then Pulled her up and whipped her into the steps no Natayla hit a STO into the steps. Natayla then Pulled Becky to the top of the steps then hit a scoop slam off it onto the ply. Natayla pinned putting her feet on the steps 1...2... kick out. Natayla then Suplexed Becky onto the steps no. Becky reversed onto a DDT onto the ply. Becky then grabbed the kendo again and went to attack Natayla with it Natayla kicked her drop. Natayla would lock in a camel clutch but held the kendo stick around Becky’s neck. Soon Becky Gave her Elbows causing Natayla to let go. Becky rested in the corner with her head on the turnbuckle. Natayla would hit Becky’s back with the kendo stick until it broke. Natayla then grabbed then glass but Becky went for a dis arm her but Natayla pushed her into the corner but Natayla hit an elbow and went to the middle turnbuckle but Becky smashed the glass over Natayla’s head. Becky then set up the table near Natayla and lit it on fire. Becky then went for a bexplex but Natayla reversed into a back body drop to the outside. Natayla then went to the outside to trying to whip the blood from her face. Natayla then tossed Becky into the ring and powerslamed Becky onto the broken Glass. Natayla then grabbed the bag and emptied it out. Tacs. Natayla then set up the ladder and grabbed Becky and carried her up the ladder. Natayla then climbed the other side of the ladder and hit a super falcon arrow through the flaming table. Natayla then dragged Becky onto the tacs and locked in a Sharpshooter. Becky would had blood all over her face and the ref checked and she was out.

Winner:Natayla

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kpop-zone · 4 years

Text

Habits | Momo

Warnings: some curse words

Genre: angst, fluff

Wordcount: 3,233

Request: the reader’s done with momo cheating her boyfriend with her just bc he’s a cheater too, when the reader is clearly in love with her. The reader stops the “relationship” and momo realizes who was there when she needed a shoulder to cry on

Momo: What are you doing tonight?

Annoyed you threw your phone on your bed, not being in the mood to answer Momo’s text. You knew exactly why she was texting you. You had gone through this process countless times before. Momo’s boyfriend cheated on her, she was heartbroken, reached out to you so you could pick up the pieces and when you were just finished with building her up again, she would go back to her boyfriend who swore that it would be different this time.

You wanted to be mad at Momo for crawling back to this sleazebag again and again after he had cheated on her countless times, thinking that he would love her eventually. But how could you be? Were you that different from her? You were pretty sure that Momo knew that you were in love with her. Nevertheless, she used you over and over again and you let her. So maybe the two of you were more similar than you wanted to admit.

But not this time. You had to break this vicious cycle. Reaching out to your phone, you held the power button until it turned off.

“I deserve better.”

You mumbled to yourself before devoting yourself to your work again.

After checking off all your daily obligations, you were looking forward to spending a relaxing night at home. You had just bought fresh ingredients, deciding that you should not only stop poisoning yourself with Momo’s antics, but also with stuffing your body with microwave dishes.

This was a new start.

You were just jamming to your favorite song while cooking your dinner when you heard your doorbell ring. Confused about who could disturb you at this hour, you made your way to the door. But as soon as you opened it, regret washed over you. Of course it was her. In your euphoria over your clean cut, you had totally forgotten the cause for all of this. Momo.

“Hey.”

She said sheepishly, looking at you with her head turned to the floor. When you didn’t say anything, she started shifting from one leg to the other.

“You haven’t answered my text.”

Momo stated, although it was clear that it was more a hidden question, asking for the reason for your changed behavior. But you didn’t owe her anything.

“I know.”

You answered coldly and Momo looked at you with hurt in her eyes, clearly not expecting you to admit that you had been ignoring her. Your heart began to get heavy and you started cursing yourself. How could she still have such an affect on you after everything she did? Why was it still enough for her to give you puppy dog eyes and you could feel your heartrate pick up?

And she could feel your inner conflict. With one of her smirks she took one step forward, starting to fidget with your shirt.

“Is there a way for me to make it up?”

She said in a low voice and you could feel the frustration piling up inside of you again. Annoyed you huffed, storming inside your apartment, leaving a dumbfounded Momo behind that followed you in confusion.

Needing a distraction, you started working in the kitchen again and Momo sat wordlessly behind you on the counter for a while. When you chose to continue ignoring her, she decided to break the silence.

“Are you mad at me?”

She asked silently and you rolled your eyes.

“No why should I be mad at you?”

You spat out and Momo flinched at the harsh tone of your voice.

It was silent for a while, but then you could suddenly feel Momo’s hands on your hips and her hot breath on your neck, making shivers run down your spine.

“Can you please talk to me?”

She asked and you could hear the pleading in her voice.

“Oh cut the crap Momo. Talk? Since when do you want to talk? Don’t you mean: can you please have sex with me, so I feel better about my boyfriend cheating on me, but please don’t get attached, because in the morning I will be gone?”

Momo was completely taken aback by your outburst, but you didn’t care. You shoved her hands off your hips and stormed to your bedroom, loudly slamming the door. Your chest was heaving in anger and you sat on your bed, burying your face in your hands to calm down.

You could see a movement in the corner of your eye and when you looked up, you could see the door to your bedroom opening in slow motion. Hesitantly Momo appeared in the doorframe and you sighted in frustration. She entered the room, not knowing what to do with herself now, awkwardly standing in front of you while hugging herself.

“I’m serious Momo. Whatever this is between us, it’s over.”

You said, the anger in your voice now replaced with exhaustion.

“W-what? Why?”

Momo stuttered, panic reflecting in her face.

“You know why, Momo. You know that you have always meant more to me than I ever did to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have chosen your boyfriend over me every time.”

You tried to hide your face, so Momo couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

She tried to take a step closer to you, but you lifted your hand.

“Please, Momo. Just go.”

Your desperation was evident in your voice and you could see Momo’s inner conflict. She was debating whether she should fulfill your wish and leave or if she should stay.

And you couldn’t tell what you wanted her to do. A part of yourself was still hoping that she would choose you for once. But that hope was crushed when you heard the door of your bedroom closing. When you looked up, the room was empty, and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. A loud sob left your throat at the realization that you hadn’t been enough for Momo another time. No matter how much you loved her, she would always leave in the end.

While her mind was racing, Momo rushed out of your apartment, leaving her standing in front of your building, not knowing where she should go. She hadn’t expected that you would kick her out of your apartment, but even less she had expected it to hurt so much. Momo couldn’t explain why tears were suddenly gathering in her eyes, threatening to stream down her cheeks any second now.

Why had she been coming back to you all this time?

You were right. The first time, she had slept with you, you had been a way to get back at her boyfriend. She wanted him to taste his own medicine. Of course, they weren’t really together anymore, so technically she had never been cheating, but nevertheless, Momo knew that she shouldn’t have slept with you if the relationship with her boyfriend had been real.

But over time things changed.

After she had found out that her boyfriend had cheated on her another time, she stopped craving revenge, and started craving your comfort instead. She didn’t come for the sex anymore, but for you. You were everything that she had wanted. You listened to her and you knew exactly what you had to say to make her feel better. And you lifted her up despite knowing that she would run back to her boyfriend again.

You were selfless opposing to her. Of course, she knew that you were in love with her. No one could make a person feel so wanted without having deeper feelings for them. Momo never had the intention to hurt you. But she wasn’t selfless enough to let you go. Knowing that she had a shoulder to cry on no matter what, was too seducing to not use it.

Old habits are hard to let go though. She didn’t even love her boyfriend anymore. She had probably never even loved him in the first place. Of course, there was a time when they were on cloud nine together. But those times always end eventually, and all there was left was a dysfunctional relationship with no chance of survival. But it was familiar. Breaking up with him would have meant a new start for her. A start connected with challenges and a lot of figuring out and she didn’t want that.

But was it worth losing you for?

Was it worth losing the habits that she had build with you? Her boyfriend had the habit of letting her down, while you had the habit of building her up. How could she have been so blind?

It had to be true. You only knew what you had when you lost it.

Momo wanted to run back to your apartment. She wanted to take your face into her hands and yell at you that you were wrong. You have meant the same to her like she did to you for a long time now, although she wasn’t able to prove it with actions. She had been a coward and selfish.

But not this time. This time she wouldn’t act only on her own interests. That’s why she didn’t run back to you immediately. There were things that she had to settle first that would prove that she was trying to be a better person now. A person that was worthy of you. So Momo got into her car, driving off to her first stop with determination. Her boyfriend.

You hadn’t seen Momo in a week now and although you wanted her out of your life, it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. But you were relieved as well. Although Momo and you were never dating, you behaved like you were in a relationship. You didn’t see other people beside her, but those times were over. Finally, you had a chance of meeting someone that could give you the love that you needed.

You suddenly realized that there were other gorgeous people beside Momo. You had been visiting the same coffee shop every morning now for over a year, but you had actually never noticed the cute barista behind the counter that flirted with you. With a bright smile she gave you your coffee and you were about to start chatting with her when her smile suddenly died down and you could feel an arm around your waist.

“Morning.”

When you turned your head, Momo was standing next to you, pressing a kiss on your cheek before glaring at the barista. In complete shock, you only stared at Momo at first, before throwing an apologetic look at the barista and grabbing Momo’s hand harshly to pull her out of the shop.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You yelled and it felt like fire was spitting out your eyes because you were so angry.

Ashamed Momo looked at the floor, mouth opening and closing while being at a loss for words, so you decided to take the word again.

“What about ‘it’s over’ don’t you understand? And even if I still were your fuckbuddy, since when am I not allowed to see other people?”

The words were just falling out your mouth now, fueled by all the frustration that you had bottled up.

“Stop.”

Momo breathed, but your anger blinded you.

“You’re allowed to see your boyfriend, but I have to be faithful? Do you even see how selfish that is?”

Your words only died down when you could suddenly hear a sob escaping Momo’s mouth.

When you really looked at her for the first time today, you could see that her eyes were puffy. Although her hair fell into her face, because her head was hanging low, you could see tears staining her cheeks. You were at a loss for words. Although you meant the words you had said, you didn’t want to hurt Momo. Because after all, hurting Momo hurt you in the end as well.

You lifted your hand, brushing Momo’s hair behind her ear, making her look at you.

“I’m sorry.”

She said barely above a whisper as if she was too weak to talk with you in a firm voice.

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, pulling at your arms instinctively. You laid your hand on the back of her head, softly pulling it against your chest. Her hands instantly found their way around your body, grasping the back of your shirt in desperation. Trying to calm her down you soothingly ran your hand on her back in circles while kissing the side of her head.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

Momo abruptly pulled back when she heard your words.

“No! Don’t apologize.”

She exclaimed quickly and you were about to talk back, but she took the word first.

“You have every right to snap at me. You were right that I knew that you had feelings for me. And it was wrong to use you like that. But you were wrong about one thing, Y/N. I love you. I have for a while now.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at Momo’s words and it felt like your heart stopped beating.

“I know it didn’t seem that way, because of my actions. But I was just selfish. I didn’t want to break up because I was so used to that relationship. I didn’t want to give up on my habits. But those times are over. I broke up with my boyfriend and I want to change my actions. I only want to be selfish once more by trying to win you back. But then I want to be the partner you deserve.”

You couldn’t believe the words you had just been hearing. You had wanted to end this chapter. You were ready for a new start, but now after all this time Momo finally wanted you. Old habits can only be overcome by going cold turkey on them. If you gave Momo the chance to win you back, you knew that you would fall back into them.

“Momo, I-I...”

You didn’t know what to say. She had never given you a reason to trust her. Could you risk going back to your toxic relationship again?

“Don’t say anything now, Y/N. It’s fine. I know that I have a lot of making up to do. I have never given you a reason to trust me, but this time I will let my actions speak for me. I will wait for your answer as long as I have to and if you want me to stop trying, just say so and I will leave you alone.”

With that Momo gave you a last smile before turning around and leaving.

You stood there like you were glued to the spot. You were only snapped out of your trance when another person ran into you and a decision slowly was forming in your head. You would give Momo a chance to prove it, but from a distance. You wouldn’t let her in again, giving her the possibility to mess with your heart. This was a decision you needed to make with your head.

The following weeks Momo stuck to her words. She really let her actions speak louder than her words. Every morning she sent you a text, wishing you a great day and every night, she sent you a text goodnight. Twice a week, flowers were brought to your apartment and sometimes she waited at your coffee shop with your coffee order and a wide grin, before leaving wordlessly, giving you the space that you had wanted.

You actually even started talking again. For the first time, Momo was interested in how you were doing. You texted each other about the important things happening in your life and Momo tried her best to support you when you were stressed about something.

Everything was like how you were imagining it when Momo still had played her games with you. So there was just one more test that you had for Momo.

Momo’s phone rang indicating that she had received a text, making her skip happily to her phone, pretty sure that it was a text from you.

Y/N: I want you to stop trying.

The text stated simply and Momo’s heart sank, immediately knowing what it was referring to.

She didn’t expect you to ask her to stop fighting for you. Everything was going great and she actually had the feeling that you started bonding. So where was this coming from?

With teary eyes, she grabbed her phone, pulling up your contact, before suddenly remembering what she had promised you. She had told you that she would leave you alone if you asked her to. Momo let her finger hover over your name, torn about what to do. She wanted to stop being selfish. But was it worth it, if the price would be to leave you?

The voice in the back of her head told her that she deserved it. Who had she tried to fool? She would have never been worthy of you. Angrily she threw her phone next to her, burying her head into her pillow to silence the sobs. For the first time in a while, you weren’t the last and first person she talked to during the day.

She woke up the next morning because someone knocked on her door. Groggily she lifted her head, immediately wincing in pain because her head was pounding from all the crying. She was about to drown in self-pity again, when the knocking appeared a second time and she huffed in annoyance, dragging herself out of her bed.

When she opened the door, she suddenly stood face to face with you. She gasped in surprise but was immediately tackled into a hug by you. Confused she laid her hands on your back, but she didn’t know what this meant.

“Thank you.”

You mumbled into her neck and Momo pressed you back, not understanding what was going on.

“What?”

She asked in confusion while a bright smile was beaming in your face.

“Thank you for letting me go and letting me decide on my own if I want to come back.”

Momo stared at you, needing a while to process your words.

“Does this mean you are coming back to me?”

She asked in disbelief and you nodded your head with a smile. She had passed the test.

With a shaky sight she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling your body against hers.

Finally, she could hold you with her whole heart and stop running. Finally, she could be only yours. Although she could have stood there with your body in her arms for eternity, she slowly detached her body from yours, looking into your eyes.

“Do you allow me to be your girlfriend?”

Momo asked nervously, not knowing whether you wanted to take it slow instead.

“Only if I can call you mine as well.”

You grinned at her and Momo mirrored your expression.

Hesitantly she rested her hand on your cheek, pulling you closer, when you didn’t flinch. Slowly you closed the distance and Momo closed her eyes when she could feel your soft lips on hers. Although she had kissed you a thousand times before, this time felt different. She could feel warmth spreading inside her body and her heartrate picking up. If she had only a minute left to live, she wanted it to spend it with your lips on hers, moving in perfect synch.

This was definitely a habit she could get used to.

#twice scenario #twice #momo #momo scenario #girl group scenario #girl group #kpop scenario #kpop

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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years

Note

royai angst + “why aren’t you with her?”

aaaah anon this is a great one thank you so much!!! i’ll be real with u tho i’ve not been having a Great Time recently and it’s been a struggle to write and focus so i do apologise if this isn’t up to much. i did try tho bc i do love writing and i can lose myself in it but sorry if this sounds a bit off/isn’t great. i might go back and edit it at a later date bc idk if i’m even happy with it but staring at it for hours won’t fix it, so enjoy for now

A ringing phone disturbed Roy from his sleep. His head jerked up, disorientated. His feet kicked in the sheets, completely tangled up, but after a moment he got his bearings and realised he was in his bedroom. Blinking, Roy looked around the room as he still tried to waken up. The phone hurried along his process, continuing to ring with no mercy.

As he stumbled tiredly to the phone, his heart sank. Getting a phone call in the middle of the night was never going to be good news. What was awaiting him on the other side of the phone?

“Hello?” he croaked. His voice was thick with sleep.

“Roy Boy,” Madame Christmas greeted.

“Madame? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, kid,” she reassured him. “I just have a customer here who’s asking for you.”

Roy glanced at the clock, wondering why a customer would still be at the bar, and noticed it wasn’t the middle of the night. It was just passed midnight. He hadn’t been sleeping for as long as he thought, just two hours.

“Who?” he asked suspiciously.

“I ran into Elizabeth,” she stated smoothly. Roy’s spine straightened. Now he was awake. “She’s been asking for you.”

“Is that so?”

The Madame made an agreeable sound. “I think you should come down and see her. She’s looking for a dance.”

Hawkeye would never ask him for a dance, so she must be drunk, and the Madame called him to come pick her up and bring her home.

Things must be… bad? Hawkeye never got drunk. Well, never got drunk enough that Roy had to go and pick her up to take her home.

“Okay.” He drew it out. Of course, he’d go and help her, but this was still an unprecedented situation. He’d just have to take it as it came and help Hawkeye as best he could. The Madame must not have enough room for any guests, otherwise she’d absolutely let Riza stay with her. “I’ll be along shortly.”

“Thank you, Roy Boy.” The line went dead.

Pulling up to the bar, Roy parked the car and stared at the door. He had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side of that door. Steeling himself, Roy took a deep breath and entered.

Hawkeye was sitting at the bar, swaying every now and then in her bar stool. The Madame had been chatting to her, staying close by, while still serving other customers. As Roy approached, he heard himself being mentioned.

“Elizabeth, Roy’s here to take you home,” she stated.

Hawkeye spun in her chair with more grace and control than Roy thought she would possess. Her eyes were half lidded and she looked drunk. Her hair was tousled, the longer strands of her fringe falling loose from the clip and framing her face beautifully.

As soon as she saw Roy, she stiffened and turned in her stool, but not before Roy noticed the stricken look on her face.

“Let’s get you home, dear.” Hawkeye had muttered something to Christmas, and that was her reply.

“Hey,” he greeted with a smile to Hawkeye’s back. “Did someone order a taxi?”

Hawkeye didn’t answer, and Christmas just watched the Lieutenant’s reaction. Abruptly, she stood from the stool and walked over where her jacket was hanging on the wall.

“You need to speak to her,” the Madame prompted quietly with a pointed look, before rounding the bar. She grasped Hawkeye’s elbow gently and ushered her and Roy to the front door. Roy had no idea what he needed to discuss with Hawkeye, and Christmas wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details.

Before Roy could reply, Riza stumbled and he reached out to catch her. Instead of steadying his Lieutenant, she jerked away from him and stumbled again, but regained her footing. She stalked away without a word, not looking back. Roy’s hands remained outstretched to catch her, dread settling in his stomach. What just happened?

“Talk to her,” Christmas stated again, then turned on her heel and re-entered her bar, leaving Roy with a drunk and a standoffish Hawkeye.

“Did you have a good night, Lieutenant?” he asked casually as he pulled away from the bar. He glanced over at her, noticing her ramrod straight spine and how she was staring straight ahead. Roy thought she was trying not to vomit, but when she finally spoke to him, her voice was cold. It gave the impression something else was wrong. Roy worried he’d done something to anger her, but he didn’t know what.

“Yes.”

That was is. Nothing more was said than that.

There was an uncomfortable silence all the way back to her apartment. This wasn’t like them, and Roy began to worry. What was wrong? Had he done something? How could he make it right?

“Thank you for the ride, sir,” she muttered as she exited the vehicle. She held herself well despite how drunk she was and begun to walk towards her apartment building. Of course, Roy couldn’t just leave it with a goodbye as cold as that, so he hurriedly jumped out the car after her.

“Hawkeye, wait,” he called. She didn’t. If anything, she walked quicker. Roy caught up with her as she waited for the lift in her building. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replied sharply.

“Something is,” he pressed. “Did I do something wrong?”

She glared at him but dropped it quickly. Roy was too stunned to make it into the lift before she forced the doors to close early. Her face disappeared behind steel doors, but Roy managed to catch her face falling when she thought she was out of sight. Her hands lifted to grasp her elbows, hugging her arms close to her body.

Roy took the stairs two at a time to try and catch her before she locked her apartment door. Once that door was closed on him, there was nothing he’d be able to do. There was the possibility of leaving her to cool off, but this was so unlike Riza. Roy was worried, and she was also drunk. He wanted to take care of her. She’d done it many times for him, and it was about time he returned the favour.

“Riza.” He tried a different tact as she approached her doorway. Her pace picked up, trying to escape from him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed, turning on him. He was taken aback by the fire in her eyes, but he saw tears collecting in the sides. “Nothing you would understand anyway,” she muttered, turning away from him.

“Try me,” he challenged instantly.

“No.”

“Riza –”

“Stop it! Just leave!”

Her apartment door opened, and she tried to slam it shut, but Roy jammed his foot in the gap. His hissed in pain, his foot smarting incredibly painfully.

“Roy –”

“I’m not going until I fix whatever it is that I’ve done.”

“If you don’t know, then you can’t fix it, can you?” she sneered. She tried to close the door again, but his stance remained steady, no matter how much it hurt.

“Talk to me, please,” he pleaded. “Riza, I just want to help –”

“You can’t,” she spat. Roy had never seen her this angry before with someone. Certainly not with him. The worry burned in his stomach, clawing at his insides and feeling worse than the pain in his foot.

“I want to try.”

“Roy, leave.”

“No.”

“Get out!”

“No!”

They stopped their shouting match, Riza glaring at him while Roy challenged her with his gaze.

Eventually, Riza backed down, which was also unlike her.

“Whatever,” she muttered, walking away from the door. It swung open slowly on the groaning hinge, revealing her apartment to him. He watched her stalk down the dark hallway and slam her bedroom door closed.

Roy entered the apartment and closed the door. Hayate approached for welcome scratches, that Roy readily provided.

“What’s going on, boy?” he murmured, feeling at a loss of what to do.

Hayate cocked his head in reply. He licked Roy’s and pressed his back into Roy’s ready hands.

“What are you still doing here?” Riza glowered at him as she walked to her kitchen. She’d sobered up slightly, but she was still under the influence. Whatever was wrong was amplified by that fact, because she’d never acted like this before. She must be really pissed with him.

“I’m not going until I know you’re all right.”

Riza scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I be? Because I’m alone?”

Roy cocked his head in confusion. “No, why would that be the case?”

Riza didn’t answer him. She just continued to rifle through her kitchen cupboards.

“Riza, if I can help, I will –”

“You can’t, I can assure you,” she interrupted him. The cupboard door slammed shut, her anger manifesting once more.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because you are the problem,” she finally revealed, irate. Her words slurred, and it caused Roy to remember that she was drunk. Whatever she was saying now would be the truth, but it would come out in a way that Riza may not have initially intended it to. However, if he was a problem, he still wanted to help her.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t care!”

A silence descended over the small apartment. Even Hayate went quiet and looked between them, whining quietly as it dragged on.

“What are you talking about –?”

“Nothing,” she interrupted hurriedly. From the wide eyes, Roy guessed this was not something she planned on revealing.

“Riza, I care about you more than anyone else –”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” she bit back. However, there was less of a bite to her words. Her tone was sullen, like a teenager.

“Why?”

“Just…” She sighed heavily and slammed another cupboard door closed, venting her frustration. Whatever she’d been looking for, she didn’t find it. Then, Roy watched as Riza brought a hand up to her face and covered her eyes. Her shoulders rounded in on themselves and Roy saw them shake.

“… Riza?” His call to her was quiet. It appeared the fight had left her, and now she was trying not to cry. Roy was almost at his wit’s end with worry. He didn’t know what was happening and just wanted to help.

There was no answer to his call. The only response was her shoulders to bunch up by her ears.

“Just go,” she whispered.

“No,” he replied with confidence. “If I’m the problem, and it’s making you this upset, I’m not going until I make it right.”

“Roy, leave.” The bite was back, and he knew now, it would be back with a vengeance. Still, he persevered.

“No.”

“Leave!” Her hand flew from her face with the force of her shout. She was still upset but it was overcome with anger. “Go back to your apartment and whoever you’re sleeping with tonight!” He was stunned into silence. “I don’t even know why you’re here for me anyway,” Riza continued, forcefully, like she truly believed he wouldn’t stay and help her. “I’m nothing and I’m sure you have a much better offer somewhere else.”

“What…?” He was still too shocked to form words.

“I know it’s true.” She was so sure of herself, so sure that was the truth, but it was complete nonsense. “Who was it tonight, I wonder? Vanessa? Why aren’t you with her? Was it Rose? Beatrice? Instead, you’re here with sad little mess Riza, who can’t even keep a lid on things for one night –”

She cut herself off with the force of her sobs. Her knees shook and she brought a hand to cover her face again, pressing into her eyes hard with her fingertips. The other hand braced herself against the kitchen counter. The sound she was making though kicked Roy’s mind back into gear. He lunged for her, wrapping Riza up in his arms. She fought it, and hard. Even while upset and drunk, she almost managed to escape his hold. Then, she grew tired. Weary was probably the better word. By the end of her fight, she was gripping his upper arms tightly, holding onto him like he was a life raft in the sea of her worries and insecurities, keeping her afloat and safe.

“There’s no one like that, Riza,” he murmured as he ran a hand through her hair. The hair trapped in her clip had become a mess, so Roy let it free. The blonde tresses tumbled down her back like a golden curtain.

“Yes, there is,” she sniffed. “Don’t lie.” She slurred with her petulant tone.

“I’m not, I assure you.” The grip he had on her tightened. “They’re informants, you know that.”

Riza sniffed again. “It still doesn’t explain why you bother with me,” she muttered.

Roy pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. She looked scared. Her eyes were wide in fear and her mouth parted with an intake of breath.

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. It wasn’t the first time he’d told her, but Roy had tried to wrack his brain for the last time he’d told her that. He couldn’t remember. “Why would I be out with other women like that if I loved you?”

“Because I’m nothing –”

“You’re everything.” She had no answer for him, so Roy bent his head to kiss her tenderly, his lips lingering on hers. “There is no me without you,” he murmured against her lips. A sob left her, and Roy bundled Riza back up in his arms.

He knew she could be insecure with herself sometimes. Professionally, she would never be. However, personally was a different story. She had her isolated upbringing with her impossible father to blame for that. Roy had looked up to the man, but as he’d grown older and realised just how badly he’d treated Riza, Roy had resented him for it.

“There’s no one like that, I promise,” he repeated. “There’s only been, and only ever will be you.”

“But what if I’m not worth it?” she whispered.

“Impossible. I’ve been with you for long enough to know if that was the case. It never will be. You’re my whole life, Riza. I don’t want to lose you from my side.”

She appeared to misunderstand him, because her hands dropped limp to her sides.

“Okay.” Her tone was even, but emotionless.

“Both professionally and personally,” Roy quickly added. “I can’t afford to lose you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers gently. “If I did… I don’t even want to consider the possibility.”

Riza’s eyes lifted to his, her gaze swapping between both his eyes as tears fell quietly and steadily down her cheeks. She was studying him, trying to discern if he was telling the truth, but Roy had nothing to hide. That was the truth. The complete and whole truth. Nothing would change his feelings.

“I want to spend every minute of every day with you, Riza,” he continued. “And it kills me that I can’t. Not in the way I want to. However, this was the path we both chose, and must bear its fruit.” He lifted his hands to grip her biceps gently but firmly, meeting her gaze square on. “If I could, I’d hold you in my arms every day and not let you go. I’d kiss you every minute of every day.” He punctuated his statement with a kiss. “And every night,” he added, dropping his voice low as he lowered his face for another kiss, but paused just above her lips. There was a quiet intake of breath from Riza. “I would make love to you. It’s what you deserve, and I would be more than happy to oblige.” He offered her a small smile. His hand lifted to cup her cheek. “I love you, Riza, and there’s only ever been you. No one else.”

She grasped the back of his neck and drew his lips down, crushing them against hers. Their kiss was passionate as hands grasped and tugged at clothing, trying to ride themselves of the barrier between them as quickly as possible. Breaking apart for air, Riza slowed to a stop, panting. Her hands were on his bare chest, her fingers splayed across his muscular frame. His were on the soft skin of her waist, his thumbs caressing the skin above the waistband of her trousers. Her shirt was untucked from the waist, hanging loose by her sides with her white bra exposed, and Roy thought it was the sexiest look he’d ever seen on her.

“I – I’m sorry,” she stuttered. Her tears had stopped, but Roy sensed they’d be making a comeback once more.

He pecked her lips. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Let’s get some rest and discuss this later, okay?”

Her eyes jumped up to meet his. “Rest?” Roy nodded. “I… I don’t need rest. I need you.”

Nodding in understanding, Roy lowered his lips to hers once more. This kiss was more loving as he bent his knees, lifting one of her legs from behind the knee to hook onto his waist. Getting the hint, Riza raised onto her tiptoes while Roy did the same with her other leg.

“Okay,” he readily agreed. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered against the skin of her neck, making Riza throw her head back and moan. “You’re my queen,” he proclaimed, kissing the pulse at her neck. Her body jerked in his arms. “Let me love you like one.”

The fingertips raking against his scalp was his answer as he kicked her bedroom door closed with his foot.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #emma writes #fic request #writing prompts

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nwbeerguide · 3 years

Text

Fernie Brewing Company reaffirms their commitment to ecological policy at the brewery, from the farm, and in the bottle.

Press Release

Fernie, BC (April 1, 2021) – Whether it is a new beer, a piece of equipment or a packaging refresh at Fernie Brewing Co., a whole lot of planning and preparation goes on behind the scenes. The latest change at FBC is no different. However, with this change comes a host of benefits that flow from the Brewery to the Tasting Room and far beyond.

First up, waste. With spent grains being the largest waste product in the brewing process, at approximately 85% of total brewery waste, FBC knew they had to put it to good use and have long been donating spent grains to local ranchers – as a highly nutritious and delicious protein source for their livestock. This is one of the longest standing, sustainable practices in place at FBC. In January 2019, to further improve this program, a Spent Grain Silo was installed, to hold larger volumes of spent grain, allowing for improved storage, easier access, and year-round pick-ups – with none of it ending up in the landfill.

Next up, supporting local. FBC recognizes the huge importance of sourcing ingredients and supplies locally whenever they can. They buy the majority of their Brewing Equipment from BC Manufacturers; their barley malt, wheat, oats, and rye are grown in Western Canada; and their fantastic FBC merchandise is hand-printed locally in Fernie. These actions not only lower greenhouse gas emissions by reducing shipping, but also support the local economy and Canadian Small Businesses.

image courtesy Fernie Brewing Company

Their newest change, however, is the biggest sustainable change yet. While maximizing efficiency to minimize loss has always been top of the list for FBC, their upgraded Canning Equipment, recently installed spring 2021, ensures more efficiencies and less waste throughout their entire packaging process.

This move also comes with huge environmental rewards, as it allows FBC to make the long-awaited move to cardboard cartons for their 6-packs, and to PakTech can carriers for their 4-packs – a change that will remove nearly 5,700lbs of plastic rings and shrink wrap from entering the landfill annually, while saying good-bye to all single-use plastics.

FBC customers will also reap rewards – with greater stability in their packs, longer shelf-life, and better tasting beer. Not to mention, for local FBC drinkers, their new Take Back Program on FBC PakTech can carriers. Simply return them to the Tasting Room for a $0.10 credit and FBC will safely sanitize and re-use.

image courtesy Fernie Brewing Company

Last, but not least, sustainably simple Growlers. FBC have had Growlers in their Tasting Room for several years, as a sustainable, straightforward way to buy beer. Over the years FBC’s Growler filling system has been improved, to ensure less waste and improved quality and longevity. It is the perfect opportunity to get FBC Draft straight from the source, in the most sustainable packaging format.

Fernie Brewing Co. would also like to take this opportunity to thank their local, and not so local community, for the ongoing support during the past year. While guidelines continuously change, FBC is working hard to evolve and support everyone during this challenging time – and they are grateful for the support in return.

Stay up to date on all things FBC, via their social or website. And remember, wherever you #DrinkFernie, stay smart, stay safe, and #StopTheSpread.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/2PC0uQM

#Beer #News #Brewery

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capsized-heart · 5 years

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Little Lamb

Pairing: vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Reader, incubus!Quentin Beck x Reader

Summary: Your simple life in the Sokovian countryside is no more. The events of a single night disrupt the natural order of your world. God is silent. He always is.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: (oh boy..) violence, blood, gore, sacrilegious imagery, explicit smut

A/N: This is my entry for @thewritingdoll‘s freaky500 writing challenge! Congrats on 500 followers! <3 I wish I could have finished this before yesterday’s deadline, especially before Halloween since this shit is so dark aha

I had a lot of fun with this! I honestly wish I could have done more bc I could write about Wanda and Quentin forever..I feel like I had to restrain myself a bit. I really like how both Wanda and Quentin can see someone’s deepest fears and thought that dynamic would be really cool for an au.

I was also inspired to write this after seeing this beautiful moodboard by @tohomorii...you honestly killed it with that Wanda vampire aesthetic.

using the quote prompt, “He’s covered in blood again. Why is it he’s always covered in blood?” -harry potter and the half blood prince

Sokovia, 17th century.

Dawn breaks with rosy hues and warm, vibrant gold. The soft, streaky clouds of early autumn float lazily by, stippling the sky with pinks and baby blues. Your eyes follow a flock of blackbirds as they flicker across a patch of sunlit horizon in a melodious chortle, climbing and climbing beyond to lofty heavens. You smile.

Your purse jingles with the sound of newfound coin. You’ve had a productive morning at market, having left your family homestead yesterday afternoon for the day’s ride. You’d sold your stock of bread and eggs to Ms. Ryba, homemade jams to old Dmitri, trading your other goods for the groceries mother had asked of you. As a surprise, you’d also purchased a small leatherbound book for your papa, a new piece of stitching work and silks for mama. Gifts carefully wrapped in linen and secured in your saddlebag, a small bit of happiness glowing in the crook of your ribs. Your heart feels full. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

Times have been hard for you and your family. This summer’s harvest had been exceptionally low with heat and droughts. Money has never been a luxury and you’ve been broken with the disciplines of how to bargain hard, conserve, safeguard, and how to put the needs of your parents before your own.

These gifts will bring favor and approval to their eyes. A godly daughter. Honor thy father and thy mother.

You tilt your face upwards to the flushed morning, relish the fresh breeze tickling your skin and murmur a quick prayer of thanks.

O God, who hast folded back the mantle of the night to clothe us in the golden glory of the day, chase from our hearts all gloomy thoughts, and make us glad with the brightness of hope, that we may effectively aspire to unwon virtues, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

You ride atop Iryna, your family’s tender Carpathian pony now weighed down with your spoils, and watch the fields of your homeland ripple in red and honey light. Even Iryna seems to sense your good mood as her head bobs with her quick gait. You balance a basket of apples in your lap, a reward that you had purchased for her (and for yourself) after a long day’s journey.

This is a safe country, not at all uncommon for young peasant girls to ride to market alone. Broad plains and cut mountains, you’d passed your closest neighbors about ten miles back, welcome solitude on each homestead.

You like to spend your time on these rides daydreaming of riding in a royal procession as princess, or as cavalry returning from battle abroad. How you would be welcomed back home to your kingdom!

Smoke curls from your cottage chimney as the edge of your family’s property comes into view. You squeeze your heels against Iryna in encouragement and she trots faster, the promise of a waiting breakfast and the smiles of your mother and father urging you forward.

The smell of hay and manure greets you as you lead Iryna into the barn. You adjust your skirts, woolen tunic, riding cloak, and wimplet before dismounting, careful not to catch anything on your saddle or packages. You slide off Iryna’s bridle and feed her an apple, rubbing soothing circles into her neck as she devours the fruit, snorting happily.

You give her fresh feed, change her water, quickly removing your tack and supplies and turn her out into the pasture, whispering a promise to give her a thorough brushing later. She gallops away with a swish of her tail. With your arms full of supplies and balancing your bushel of apples, you kick through dust and dirt and enter your cottage.

You’re about to call out to your mama when your voice stops in your throat. The nauseating stench of rot fills your nose, familiar and ominous, like when papa slaughters the chickens for winter stock. Only this time it’s inside your home.

Your arms go limp and your packages fall to the floor in a muffled thud of wrapped paper. Apples bounce, scatter, rolling through soot and blood.

Your father lies crumpled, his strong body disfigured in a tangle of limbs. His skull has been crushed into a crown of grey matter and gore, leaking like tears down the planes of his face. His eyes and mouth hang open in a frozen, silent scream, twisted skyward in agony. Protectively draped over your mother in his final moments.

Your mother is spread-eagled with her throat slit open and her veil stuffed into her mouth, rosary beads crudely circled tight around her wrists in manacles. Her skirts have been torn, bunched around her thighs and you see violet bruises in the shape of hands.

You stumble to the hearth and wretch up bile and water. You heave, vomit, tears stinging your eyes and mucus dribbling down your chin until there is nothing left in your stomach but a wriggling pit of nerves. You can’t breathe, can’t think. Strength evaporates from your body and you sink in front of the cooling embers of the fireplace.

You look to the bodies of your parents. You don’t bother trying to feel for a pulse. You are numb.

You stay beside them until the light outside turns bleak and grey, until your legs ache from kneeling on hard wooden floor for countless hours. Slowly, finally, you wipe your mouth, lift yourself up.

You find the scythe used to harvest wheat. It feels good and heavy in your hands, makes you feel strong. You make rounds to the rest of the property with it tight in your grip.

Your homestead has been completely ransacked. What livestock that hasn’t been stolen lies dead, slain and swarmed by flies. You’re left with one cow, six chickens, two goats, and Iryna.

You salvage whatever raw materials you can. You return the scythe back to the shed, unused, the sharp, pristine metal gleaming a cool blue. Part of you had hoped that the intruders still lurked about. Maybe then you could have descended upon them with all the silent wrath of Jael, as she had killed Sisera.

You whistle a low blast. Iryna trots over to you, nuzzles your hand for another treat. It makes you smile and fresh tears to drip down your cheeks. You wonder if she can sense anything awry, sense that your entire world has been violently turned on its head. You don’t think you’ll ever crave apples again.

They’ll only taste of sin.

It takes you well into the night to dig two deep holes. The ground is frigid with frost and your breath clouds, fogging the air as you work the soil in an eerie echo of familiar, mundane times. Instead of the sun, the moon guides your hand. Instead of toiling the fields to lay in crops, you prepare the graves of your mother and father.

Sweat slicks your skin, dirt streaking down your neck and arms. The moon has dipped below the hillside when you finish, plunging you in complete darkness. You thrust the spade into the ground.

You are not strong enough to carry the bodies of your parents. You will have to tie them to Iryna and bring them here to the fields. But you cannot tonight with the last of the moonlight gone.

And tomorrow is the day of the Sabbath, your holy day of rest. You will have to wait to bury them.

You hug yourself tight. From the cold, from the juvenile fear of death and despair.

Did Christ not feel this way upon the cross? Abandoned by his own father? Alone?

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" that is, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

You rise late. Fatigue still sits deep in your bones when you go and collect eggs and milk for your breakfast. You step over your mother and father. Splattered blood, now dry, ring around their heads in crimson halos.

You spend the day idly. You read the book you had bought for your father, practice your stitching with the embroidery hoop and silks meant for your mother. You heat water for a bath and sprinkle in some of the salts and oils she kept tucked away in her bedroom. You wash away tears and dirt and grime.

You relish the hot water as it seeps into your tense muscles, watch the milky surface ripple around your limbs. The cottage is quiet and seems to settle around you.

You were always the last to bathe out of your small family. You would be told to fetch and heat the water, waiting until your father finished, then your mother. By the time it was your turn, the bathwater was always cold and dirty. You were not allowed to change it out as it was costly and a waste of time. You would be quick to rinse.

Now, you sit until your fingers becomes wrinkled and pruny, your skin and hair fragranced with the smell of rose petals and lavender. There is no one to scold you to hurry up.

Iryna watches over you as you pack the last of the dirt over the burials. You’re both exhausted. You finish at midday. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

O God, grant unto us, in this dying life, that peace for which we humbly pray, and hereafter to attain unto everlasting joy in Thy presence; through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

You pass your days in solitude and in fear. You wonder if the bandits will return. It makes you pray harder, harder than you have in your entire life. You ask for forgiveness, for protection, for salvation.

The windy autumn nights bring chills and unease. The windows rattle in their frames, the cottage groans, and the goats bleat in the pressing darkness.

Visions of your murdered parents dance behind your eyelids. A crown of gore, blood red tears, suffocating rosary beads. The possibility of specters and demons and Satan’s lurking servants seem to hide behind each darkened corner. The homestead feels too vast, too isolating. You feel yourself slowly going mad, every howl of curling wind making you shudder in your cot.

You ask for companionship. A friend to share company.

A young woman’s voice calls out to you. The day is abnormally warm and you’re hanging laundry to dry in the sun when you first lay eyes on her.

She wears a riding cloak and veil, a pretty woolen dress of fine cardinal fabric. Her hair falls in loose waves down to her chest, catching the sunlight in a gleam of muted copper.

She leads the most magnificent looking horse you’ve ever seen. A towering black Clydesdale that stands eighteen hands high with a glossy coat and tail, powerful muscles moving with every stride. Curiously, you see no saddle or tack, only the leather bridle she uses to guide him.

When you approach her, the young woman asks if you are master of the house. You respond with, yes. She smiles and takes your hands in hers, inquiring if she may stay for a few nights before continuing her journey to the next town. She says she will pay you with coin and labor, with whatever help you may need around the property.

The gesture surprises you. Travelers are few in this stretch of country and your family has never housed one before. But, you think of how turning this woman away would mean another day’s ride for her until she reached the next homestead. As you’ve understood, these trails are no longer safe. Especially for a young woman riding alone.

When you agree to offer her lodging, she blesses you with another radiant smile and kisses your cheeks. It’s enduring, warms your heart and tingles your fingers still laced with her own.

As promised, Wanda helps you with your chores. She does not ask about your family or parents or why a young girl of your age could indeed be master of a homestead all by herself. You do not ask why a beautiful woman is traveling alone. Instead, she carefully listens to your instructions and assists you perfectly.

You’ve just finished gathering firewood when the two of you head to the barn to tend to your few and precious livestock. You muck out stalls, change hay and water. Wanda’s Clydesdale watches you from one of the extra stalls you’ve placed him in.

When Wanda tries to lead out Iryna, she flinches away and flattens her ears in a shrill whinny. It catches you both off guard and you quickly take the rope from Wanda’s hands before Iryna can hurt herself, placating her with a low hush.

“She does not like me.” Wanda frowns. It’s charmingly youthful, makes her look like a pouting child.

“She is not used to strangers,” you soothe, smiling gently. You return Iryna to her stall and slide the door shut. “What is your Clydesdale’s name?” You ask.

Wanda’s mood seems to lift instantly and you catch a glimmer in her hazel eyes. “Paimon,” she tells you. “Paimon is friendly to everyone, especially strangers. But, he loves pretty girls most of all.”

Later, you invite her into your home and the two of you relax your tired bones by the evening fire.

The days grow cold and dark. You and Wanda now share the bed of your late parents, bigger and warmer than your own. You awake each glowing morning with her slender arms wrapped tight around your waist, her face buried into the crook of your neck.

For warmth, you tell yourself.

Her sighs, her moans in sleep stir something in the pit of your stomach.

You’re unsure of what other reason you would prefer.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Wind and rain whistle against the glass panes of your cottage. It is a dreary, bleak morning of storm, one that has forced you and Wanda to remain inside. A fire crackles in the hearth and throws dancing shadows along the walls. You sit and read while Wanda busies herself with housework. It is the first time you’ve felt peace in months.

She returns from the pantry, setting down her washcloth and bucket with a faint groan. You look up.

Warm, flickering light highlights the skin of her collarbones and cheeks. Wanda has plaited back her hair to keep it out of her eyes, save for a few wispy strands that fall to frame her face.

You swallow, enraptured.

She catches you staring and her irises seem to glow brighter with firelight. She turns slowly, sauntering towards you with measured, delicate steps.

“Little one, didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s impolite to stare?” she whispers. She walks until she is flush against you and the fabric of her dress brushes your toes. Without looking away, she eases the book out of your hands and sets it facedown on the table. Your father’s bible.

Your mouth dries up, your pulse hammers.

Wanda tilts her head, her expression clouding. Then, she sinks to her knees to straddle you completely, arms winding around your neck.

“Sweet girl, when I ask you a question, I expect a response.”

Her fingers trace your jaw, looking down at you with a stern, flinty gaze. You find your hands holding the swell of her hips, pulling her closer.

“Those who see you will stare and wonder, ‘Is this the man who made the world tremble and shook up kingdoms?’” you recite into the ever closing gap between your mouths. She sighs, high and breathless, feel her overheated body slowly start to move against you.

Your lips and tongue meet in a tangled kiss. Your first. She tastes of myrtle and honeyed milk. You feel yourself falling when you gently cup this young woman’s face in your hands, kissing and touching and her fingers lustfully twisting into the nape of your neck. Dizzy, ashamed. Your skin is on fire.

You think of Lucifer’s wings burning away as He hurtled towards earth.

“I’m so thirsty, my love. Thirsty for you,” Wanda gasps. Her pupils are blown impossibly wide, ringed in red. Her canines glint in the darkness. “Will you let me drink?”

You remember Iryna’s skittishness, Wanda’s beast of a horse, Paimon. No saddle, no luggage. A lone, beautiful woman wandering the countryside with exquisite eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. A devil in masquerade who never intended to leave.

Slowly, you untie the strings of your dress’s blouse and expose your shoulders, the dip of your chest. Wanda’s lips part hungrily, the shadow of her eyelashes fluttering like feathers.

She sets you back and runs her fingers over the thin skin of your neck. Her touch is smooth, gentle. Then, she leans over you, keeping you still with a single hand wrapped deliciously around your throat, pressing you deeper into the wooden chair.

The bite of teeth, then white pleasure. Your vision rolls and you writhe against her in a fit of sighs and otherworldly bliss. Suction, flickering tongue, the obscene sounds of her mouth devouring you whole. You moan, cage her against your body and you hear her chuckle.

Blood trails down her throat and drips between her breasts when she finally sits back, sated. Half-lidded eyes gazing down at you with more love and adoration than you’ve ever known.

You are her blessed wine.

Take this, all of you, and drink from it,

for this is the chalice of my Blood,

the Blood of the new and everlasting covenant,

which will be shed for you and for all

so that sins may be forgiven.

Do this in memory of me.

“Amen.” she murmurs with a kiss.

God is silent. He always is.

Wanda pulls you atop her. She cradles your face, smooths back your hair as she looks up at you in the silvered morning light.

“Little one, would you like to live forever?”

The question takes you by surprise, makes you pause. She takes the opportunity to kiss your fingertips, arch her hips into you. It makes your breath hitch, but your mind is clear.

“As long as it’s with you.”

She grins, gleaming and bright, the first glimpse of sun you’ve seen in this godforsaken autumn.

“Oh, my sweet little bride, my princess of night.” she sighs.

“Yes,” you whimper.

She gazes into your mind and sees what you’ve always wanted.

Wanda prepares for the ritual that very evening. Candles, parchment, a single serrated knife.

She bathes the two of you in the shared tub, washes your hair and cleanses you, a mock baptism with soap and scented oils. Her fingers wander, coaxing pleasure as you lean back against her.

Finally, she guides you to the bed when the world outside stands cold, silent, watching, at the cusp between night and day.

Wanda eases your finger between her lips and pricks the skin with the point of her teeth. Her eyes flutter before reluctantly removing it, a string of saliva following suit. You watch the single bead of blood bloom and sign the parchment with a steady hand.

Cold air brushes your cheeks, skin tingling as if touched, breath in your ear. You feel your vision haze in and out of focus, a foreign sensation overcoming your body.

Then, a young man appears before you. He’s tall and lean and handsomely bearded, dark hair curling against his forehead, down the tufts of his chest and arms. His eyes, green and glimmering, inspect you carefully, tracing every curve of your exposed skin. You feel achingly vulnerable, pinned.

Your eyes trail lower and lower until…

You find that he is completely bare. You flush and turn to hide your face into Wanda’s shoulder. She chuckles, gently takes your chin in her hand and tilts your gaze back onto him.

“This is the flesh of Adam, sweet one,” she murmurs. “It is not shameful to lust. Did God not create man in his own image?”

Wanda reaches out her other hand in offering and the man takes it, lowers himself onto the bed. There is an air of familiarity between the two of them as they share a kiss of greeting.

“Welcome, Quentin.” she hums. She fondly runs her thumb along his cheek and he leans into her touch. Quentin’s eyes then flicker to you.

“Is this my gift?” he asks. His voice is soft, sweet like honey. Wanda hums again. Quentin smiles warmly, looking you up and down. Your blood ignites.

With one hand on both of your faces, she guides you and Quentin together. He kisses you, surprisingly soft and gentle, cradling your jaw with a touch that makes your stomach flutter. You hear Wanda moving, feel her touch.

Some of the tension wound tight in your shoulders evaporates with Wanda beside you. It encourages you to be braver, bolder as you kiss the incubus back more urgently, touch his skin. Quentin responds with a purr and tangles a hand in your hair, mouthing at your neck, tracing your puncture wounds with a soothing, possessive tongue.

He draws you upon his lap, still pulled flush against him and the heat of him so close to the most intimate part of your anatomy makes you timid, afraid.

“Relax, lamb.” he whispers. “Enjoy this, enjoy us.”

The broad touch of his fingers against you makes you mewl in surprise. Wanda hushes you with a soft kiss, takes one of your hands in hers. Quentin’s palm rests on the plane of your stomach, his other easing into where you’re most aching and tight, where a man’s strong touch has never breached.

He slowly guides your hips upon his hand, until his fingers glisten with your slick and your body starts to warm with the glow of angelfire.

“Keep going, little lamb,” Quentin urges into your ear. “You know how, don’t you? Those lonely nights when your parents lay fast asleep abed?”

You moan. Indeed you do. Nights where darkness was most suffocating and you prayed that God would turn a blind eye to your lust.

You shatter with the heat of hell rain. With your body still clenching and fluttering, Quentin lays you out beneath him, his eyes darker, lips turned up into a sly smile. You’re breathless.

He feels cold when he enters you, a sensation you would have least expected from a creature molded by burning sin and Lucifer’s fire. Yet, it pushes your poor, mortal flesh to the thresholds of pleasure and you reach for Wanda, keening. Wanda slinks closer and pushes your hair out of your eyes.

“How does she feel?”

“Like a dream,” Quentin moans, laughing. “You want Wanda and I both, lamb? I can see it in your mind’s eye. So needy, you are. I’ll give you what you want, lamb. You’re doing so good for me.”

You don’t remember waking up. A blood moon hangs in the sky.

You feel the lull of pleasure, of Quentin’s lush curls buried between your thighs. Your fingers catch on horns, his velvety tongue forked as it slips into you.

Your world blurs around you, dreamlike.

Again, you reach for Wanda and she laces your fingers together with a smile, kisses your damp forehead.

“Is this real?” you moan into her neck.

“As real as your God, sweet one. Are you ready to come home?”

You nod, drowsy with euphoria. You see Wanda take up the silver knife and again, you offer your hand.

You wince when she slices open your palm, watch the blood seep over and down your arm in great drops. Quentin lifts his head from between your legs, intoxicatingly beautiful with shining lips and heat in his eyes. He keeps his gaze on you as he drives into you again, as your hand stains his chest and neck with crimson, ravishing you again and again. You feel Wanda’s tongue and then the bite of her fangs.

You arch, reborn with the blessing of immortality and pressed between two demons.

You wonder how many times these two have completed a ritual like this, with Quentin’s powerful body covered in virgin’s blood.

His blessed cup.

And the Lamb will overcome them, because He is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful.

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vince-thrilligan · 4 years

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Giancarlo Esposito On Gus Fring’s Enduring Fascinations

“I think what inspired me was reading the stage direction for Gustavo Fring,” Giancarlo Esposito recalls of the duplicitous New Mexico restaurant entrepreneur. “Vince (Gilligan) wrote ‘Hiding in plain sight.’” That concise description was the doorway for Esposito into one of the most fascinating characters in television history.

Awards Focus: How did you get involved with Breaking Bad?

Giancarlo Esposito: My entry into Breaking Bad came about in a different kind of manner. I know there were a lot of actors fighting for the part. When I entered the show, I had just planned on doing a guest spot, which wasn’t something I wanted to do forever. However, I quickly realized that the filmmakers were just stellar, they make movies every week and tell incredible stories. So I was blessed to be a part of Breaking Bad and I’m blessed to be a part of Better Call Saul, and I love continuing to add to the nuance of my character.

AF: When you were offered the role, did you have any idea of the cognitive depth of the character?

Esposito: Well, the first time around, I really enjoyed doing my guest spot. And by the time I got back to New York they were asking me to do another. I said okay, because I’d had a great experience and that was the end of Breaking Bad’s second season. I’d done two episodes and they wanted to offer me a contract. I said that I really loved my experience, but I’d love to be able to talk to Vince Gilligan about some ideas I had for the role and what it really could be. I loved the character, and I saw something special there.

I was interested in connecting with Vince before they started writing for season three. When we eventually spoke, I knew we had the same vision for the character. I think what inspired me is when Vince wrote the stage direction for Gustavo Fring that said, “Hiding in plain sight.” That intrigued me about people in Middle America, or wherever they may be, who have neighbors who think they do one thing and may not be aware that they’re also doing something illicit… that idea fascinated me. The whole writing of Gustavo Fring, from running the drug ring to being part of the Children’s Hospital, it all made so much sense to me. When that all came about, I knew I was hooked.

AF: What challenges did that complexity pose during Breaking Bad?

Esposito: In creating Gus I had some trepidation, because I didn’t want Gus to be a Breaking Bad villain who had a minimal impact on the trajectory of the series. I wanted him to be someone who could guide a story or be involved with Walter White’s arc. I didn’t want to play the typical gangster thug with the poodle on his lap. I wanted to play someone who exhibited some humanity, who cared about people, and to create that feeling as opposed to going with the straw-man bad guy.

AF: Has Better Call Saul changed your approach to the character?

Esposito: When everything lined up for my return, I had to ask for the same kind of conversation with Vince. The challenge for me is to play a guy who’s younger, who’s trying to build an empire. Because we understood Gus’s backstory and motivations from Breaking Bad. Nothing new is revealed there, so I just wanted to show Gus developing, and that’s a challenge thing to play. Those are the things I think about while I’m playing the guy who’s laying out the card game, the guy who is really setting the pieces on the chessboard. I try to layer that personality.

I’ll give an example. At one point in season five, Gus is outside his restaurant as it burns down by his own hand. Not long after, Mike pulls up as Gus gets some bad news and he’s pissed off. A couple of months later, I’m in ADR (rerecording dialogue in post production) and I looked at my performance and noticed I was a little agitated. For a moment, I worried it wasn’t the right choice, but then I realized that I’m not playing the Gustavo Fring of Breaking Bad, I’m playing a different character.

This is the Gus Fring of Better Call Saul, who’s younger, who’s gonna be a little more pissed when his plans go awry, and who’s gonna show it. When you’re playing with time and going back in time for an iconic character that I played in Breaking Bad, I get to think about all those things that keep me balanced.

AF: Over the last three seasons, you, Peter, and Vince have been able to explore the intricacies of Gus and his empire, as well as revealing more depth in his relationship with the cartel and Mike. How has the relationship between Gus and Mike evolved over both series?

Esposito: I love those scenes with Mike. Jonathan just embodies the very soulful personality of an everyman, but he’s still an unusually skilled actor. The reason I love working with Jonathan is because while I know the overall feeling of what he’ll give me, I never know the depth he’ll take it to. Mike is a complicated guy, and I think he’s pissed off that Gus understands him. He’s very suspicious, and Gus always has to have something on you, so that complicates things, in addition to the disagreement over Nacho’s role. But Gus respects Mike, because he’s skilled. So I think it was a very tough spot for Gus – he wants to listen to Mike, but he needs Nacho on the inside.

AF: A lot of fans ended up rooting for Gus. Was that something you foresaw?

Giancarlo Esposito: It was in season four of Breaking Bad when people started to really like Gus and root for him a bit. And, you know, there are arguments that he’s not such a bad guy. It was triumphant for me as an actor and as a character because if people could see the vulnerability behind the steely coldness, and understand the reasons why Gus did what he did, you can kind of accept the guy.

AF: In Better Call Saul, when Gus has to give up money at the drop locations and he’s waiting for the call in his office, that poor fry cook is not cleaning the deep fryer to his satisfaction. What’s Gus thinking at that moment?

Esposito: I love that scene because Gus is obviously up against it. He doesn’t want to give himself away by intervening with the money drop, so he’s allowing his cash to be stolen, which incenses him. So he’s waiting for the call at the restaurant, and there is this young, earnest employee. This is a part of Gus that I love, he wants to teach and he wants to get things done the right way. He gives his attention to something that may seem very small in his world at that moment, but how you do the small things, is how you do anything, and it’s how you do everything. It’s how you do the small things that make a difference in life – in caring, in loving, and in paying attention.

Gus looks at the fryer and sees it’s not as clean as it could be, and the kid sees it too. Gus wants to make it a teachable moment, and to me, if someone takes the time to teach you something, that means they care about you and the environment you share. You take the time because you respect them. And Gus, I think, admires the inquisitiveness and the honorability of people, because you know when you’ve done a good job and when you haven’t. It’s fundamentally compassionate, because it’ll help them be a better person and they’ll never forget it.

Part of AwardsFocus.com’s BCS interviews [x]

#giancarlo esposito #bcs season 5 #awardsfocus #gus fring

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cottonblush · 5 years

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blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 2,533

❧ genre: fluff-ish, more to come in later parts

❧ notes: so i was originally gonna make this one super long post but i had this idea of how i could split it up and make it more interesting so i think it’ll be a three part series?? the first part is shorter than the rest because it’s an intro but i just wanted to some background about how jisung and the reader first meet. and i may or may not have been inspired by day6′s m/v series from the sunrise and moonrise albums but that’s irrelevant. this is unedited and i typed some of it out on my phone bc my laptop was being dumb and kept glitching (we don’t stan). btw i’ll be trying out a new layout so we’ll see how it goes

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

Jisung rests his head on his arms, which lay on the worn out surface of the cash desk, the cool air of the a/c doing nothing to help alleviate the sweat that’s pooled on his neck. Summer is winding down to a close, but it’s a summer day nonetheless, so the air is still thick and the temperature is still high enough that Jisung is tempted to lay down by the tiny produce section of the corner convenience store and give up on his job entirely. It doesn’t help that he’s also extremely bored. He’d usually have some homework to work on or friends to text, but the second semester has only just begun and almost all of his friends have decided to form an Overwatch league without him. He’s in the middle of questioning whether or not he should quit his job when his train of thought is interrupted by two things: the unequivocal fact that he so desperately needs money to pay for his Apple Music subscription and honey butter chip addiction, as well as the jingle of the bell that signals that a customer has entered the store.

“Dude, I know. Like, the fact that she assigned us two whole pages of problems on the third day of school? Not my physics teacher. I don’t claim her,” your voice rings through the almost empty store as you hold your phone to your ear with one hand and use the other to grab a basket. Jisung’s eyes trail your figure as you place multiple bags of honey butter chips in your basket and he feels his stomach practically try to eat itself out of hunger. You grab a small bottle of sprite and head towards the front of the store, still talking about the same teacher, “What do you mean, I can’t not claim her? I, as a decent human being, refuse to accept her as one of our own. She literally has to be an alien. Or the world’s biggest sadist.”

You quickly tell you’re the person on the other side of the line that you have to hang up as you place your items on the table in between yourself and the young man in front of you. You ask him how his day has been, bringing up the fact that he must be suffering in this weather, and Jisung is grateful a chance at human interaction.

“Could be better, to be honest, but at least I don’t have any homework. That must suck,” he says with mild amusement.

Your cheeks quickly turn a soft pink as you scratch the back of your head with embarrasment and reply, “Was I really that loud that you could hear the whole conversation? Wow, I really need to turn it down a notch, don’t I?”

“Nah, you’re fine. It’s really quiet in here and I might’ve been eavesdropping. I get bored really easily.”

Jisung hears a soft chuckle and feels the corners of his own mouth start to quirk upwards. The conversation so far has just consisted of small-talk, and he knows that you’ll be gone within the next minute, but you honestly feel like a breath of fresh air to him. He doesn’t know why but once you pay for your items and leave, he hopes for you to stop by again. He hopes he can get to know a little more about you than just your name (he took a peak at the name on your debit card earlier and knows it’s a little creepy but has no regrets). He’s known for being quite shy, but this time Jisung thinks it’d do him some good to try and befriend you.

Alas, luck is never on his side because the next time he sees you is a month into the semester. You’re wearing a school uniform this time and he literally wants to smack himself because ohmygod you go to the same school as him. How has he not seen you around before? You’ve now completely piqued his interest and he can’t take his eyes off you even as you give him a wary look while walking up to the counter.

When asked if he’s okay, Jisung is snapped out of his reverie and tries not to pretend like he hasn’t almost swallowed his own tongue before responding with, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… what grade are you in? I’m not trying to pry or anything. We go to the same school, t-that’s all.”

Jisung really wants to slap himself when he finds out not only are you two attending the same school, but you’re also in the same grade. Perhaps he’s going blind just like his friends keep telling him. Perhaps you have a secret ability that makes you invisible when you’re around him at school. Perhaps he’s just been stuck in his own world and too shy. Reluctantly, Jisung admits that the third one holds the most truth.

When asked what classes you’re taking, you explain that you want to major in physics, so most of your classes are math and physical science based. In turn, Jisung says that he’s interested in computer programming, but he has decided to take less challenging math courses so he can fit in his dance electives.

With that small interaction, Jisung feels a little lighter as he watches you exit the store. He’s glad to know more about you, to be one step closer to making a new friend. This is kind of a big deal for him. He really isn’t the most extroverted person, but he’s not a recluse. He’s in that weird gray area where if he knows a person, he can hold a conversation, but there are times when his brain forgets how to get to know a person in the first place. It’s at times like these when he feels the greatest envy towards his friends, Donghyuck and Chenle, who could talk Thanos out of killing half the universe if they really tried. However, he’s also grateful to them because who else will defend him when Renjun comes at him for literally breathing?

Jisung is now more aware of you at school. He sees you in the hallways between classes and in the cafeteria during lunch. Unfortunately, he doesn’t notice you in any of his classes, but the little waves you send each other when you spot one another is enough to satiate what Jisung deems to be “on track” for a friendship.

It isn’t until the end of August that he realizes how close yet far you appear to be for him. He’s let out of class early for once and is one of the first to get their lunch and start eating when Donghyuck loudly plops his tray down across from him and states, “My lab partner is gonna sit with us at lunch from now on so we can work on this project. Hope you don’t mind, but also she’s sitting here either way so you better deal.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and replies with a quiet “sure” before going back to shoveling a mix of kimchi and rice into his mouth at an alarming rate. He’s caught off guard, though, when Donghyuck’s partner turns out to be you and you greet said teen by jogging up to him and throwing an arm around his shoulders after placing your tray down along with your books. You smile and say, “Hey, Jisung,” to which Jisung is slightly confused because he’s sure he’s never told you his name and he’s way too forgetful to actually remember to wear his name tag at work. You’re quick to explain that Donghyuck always blabs about him and the others during class, but he shouldn’t worry because he’s actually made out to be one of the normal ones of the bunch.

Much to Jisung’s dismay, the conversation comes to an end due to the reason you've come to their table in the first place. You flip your book open and begin perusing through the material while Donghyuck’s fingers glide across the keyboard of his laptop.

Having nothing better to do, Jisung simply straightens up and leans across the table, trying to take a peek at what his friend and now acquaintance are working on. Noticing his gaze, you slide your textbook toward him and flip it around so you can explain, “We’re starting our boat projects so Hyuck and I are trying to look for good ideas for designs and costumes and stuff. Honestly, when the teacher said we would be starting the project after break, I didn’t think she meant the first week. But like, go off, I guess.”

At this, Donghyuck releases a snort and says, “Don’t encourage it. I swear she has ears and eyes everywhere. She knows everything we’re saying. It’s creepy…”

The three of you chuckle, but not before casting a sweeping gaze across the cafeteria, looking for the aforementioned teacher. For the rest of the lunch period, Jisung and Donghyuck look on the internet for cool group costumes they can put together while you continue to take notes from your textbook. By the time you’re all getting up to go to class, you’ve narrowed the costumes down to the characters of Little Mermaid, gondoliers, or pirates. You also have a basic idea for the structure of the boat. Somehow, Jisung has found himself now apart of your boat project group even though he’s never even stepped into the physics lab before, but he’s glad and even offers for the group to meet at the convenience store so he can help after school.

When Chenle gets back from yet another family business trip—Jisung is highkey jealous that Chenle is rich enough and smart enough to afford taking multiple weeks off of school per semester, but Chenle assures him that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be—Jisung fills him in on what he’s missed. Chenle pouts when he hears how much fun Jisung has been having without him, but he’s quickly reminded that he got to spend two weeks in the Maldives so he promptly shuts up.

Before anyone realizes it, two weeks pass by in the blink of an eye and now it’s become a daily routine for you and one or two of your crew to show up at the convenience store when building the actual boat is getting too tiring or when your fellow groupmate Haknyeon declares for the thousandth time that he is starving and literally cannot cut even an inch more cardboard until he has food in his stomach. This time, however, seems to be a special occasion because the whole group is filling through the entrance one by one (or two by two if you count how Seungmin and Jisu just fought tooth and nail, squeezing through the door frame to see who could get there first).

“Hey, Jisung,” Jisu calls out with a smile, snapping Jisung out of his daydream and making him sit up straight at the counter. He offers up a meek smile and waves to everyone else as they walk in. You and Jisu immediately head to the ice cream section, grabbing several popsicle and fudge sticks each and giggling at the cold sensation against your skin.

“There’s a lot of you today,” Jisung points out, inwardly cringing when he sees Seungmin accidentally knock over a display and poorly putting it back together.

Donghyuck’s head pops out of one of the aisles as he explains, “Yup! We finally finished building so we came here to celebrate! We’re gonna hang out outside so you should come join us.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and once he finishes scanning all of their items, he hops off his seat and walks around the counter. He takes a seat at one of the tables outside, figuring if a customer comes in, he can step back in. The rest of the gang joins him and open all of their treats, some choosing to savor the food on this especially pleasant fall afternoon (Jisu and Seungmin) while others choose to shovel everything down their throats as quickly as possible (you, Haknyeon, and Chenle). As if on cue, you and Chenle drop your heads in your hands and groan about having a massive brain freeze. Literally every other person at the table except Haknyeon—his cheeks are stuffed with cheese puffs and when he tries to speak, several little puffs tumble out of his mouth and onto the pavement, causing him to pout and forget about the situation at hand—says ‘I told you so,’ with an indignant smirk.

The atmosphere continues in its lightheartedness and no one notices the darkening sky until the sun has almost completely dipped into the horizon. After cleaning up the mess that has been made, the teens slowly bid their goodbyes and head home. You’re one of the last ones remaining, wanting to buy some more chips to have during your study session later that night. Placing a little package of Hello Panda cookies in your basket, you’re about to tell Jisung you’re ready to pay when you realize there’s an older man, probably a college student, at the cash desk speaking angrily to your friend.

The man continues to raise his voice, practically yelling at this point, “Are you serious? I’m telling you I’m 21! Can’t you just believe me and give me my damn cigarettes?!”

Poor Jisung seems to fold back into himself in intimidation as he nervously stutters out, “S-Sorry sir, I can’t let you have them without an ID. Please c-come back next time with some form of identification.”

It’s when the man slams his fist on the counter and leans forward that you decide this has gone too far and you have to step in.

“Excuse me,” you say, putting up a facade of confidence, “I believe that camera in the corner has just recorded this whole interaction and if you don’t leave now, I won’t hesitate to report you to the police.”

The man stomps out of the store with a huff, but not before knocking down a shelf of candy. Jisung is still in a state of shock as he shakily comes around the counter and starts to pick up the candies. You bend down and start to help him as well, trying to get everything back in place, when he asks, “How do you do that? Y’know, like you were just so calm, collected, and confident?”

You let out an airy laugh as you expound, “Dude, are you kidding? I was so nervous. I totally thought he was going to turn around and punch me in the face or something. But I wasn’t just gonna let him treat one of my friends rudely, so I just did what I had to.”

Jisung can’t pinpoint why, but when he ends his shift and heads home, he has a little pep in his step. Maybe it’s because he’s glad he didn’t have to deal with another confrontational scenario. Or maybe it’s because you stood up for him without a second thought. Either way, he’s glad his day has turned out how it did and he can’t wait for tomorrow.

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