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seiyasabi · 3 years ago

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A Shifter’s Dream

(This is a Yandere Bunny-Shifter N’Doul x Female Reader story :P Plz proceed w caution

TW: !Noncon!, breeding kink!, hella cum!, he holds you down onto the mattress!, kinda sus bc u just turned 18, he deadass bites you, !pees on u in rabbit form, mounting!, mentions of euthanization of animals at the beginning!, etc..)

“-Mama, Mama!” Your voice echoes throughout the kitchen, as you hurry inside, hands clutching something protectively. Your mother turns, startled by your sudden appearance and anxious sounding voice.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did those neighbourhood boys bully you again?” Ever the mother hen, she frets over you, grabbing you gently by the shoulders and taking a good look at you.

Shaking your head, you lift your hands, showing the older woman a taupe coloured rabbit, “Look! Mrs. Ruitz next door is selling bunnies! She says this one is blind, so she hasn’t sold it, so she said she’d give him to me if you say yes! Please, please, please say yes! She said she’d put him down if he wasn’t sold,” Tears bead your eyes as you practically beg your mother, who doesn’t seem to have the heart to tell you ‘no’ at that moment.

She sighs, weighing her options. You’re already ten, so you should be able to take care of him with minimal effort on her part…

��I suppose that’s alright. You just have to promise me that you’ll take care of him!” You instantly perk up, a bright smile on your face.

“I promise! I promise!” You hold the bun closer to your chest, practically rocking it in the process, “Thank you, Mama!”

The older woman smiles once more, patting you goodnaturedly on the back, “Good. Now, let’s go talk to Mrs. Ruitz- we have no idea how to take care of it.”

Walking across the street, your mother and your neighbour talk about your bunny’s proper care. It turns out, your bun is a male, who is previously named N’Doul. Not wanting to confuse the bunny, you decided to keep his unusual name, chattering away happily to him as you sat in the grass, barely listening to his care requirements.

The bun listens intently to what you’re saying, relishing your gentle hold around him.

He must be lucky, he thinks, to have found someone as lovely as you for a mate.

Eight years later, and you and your bun are still going strong. You’d recently moved into your own apartment, trying out adult life as you start college.

Today is your birthday, officially making you an adult.

The day was filled with festivities: your mom made you your favourite breakfast in bed (scaring you half to death- apparently she has a copy of your apartment key), your friends took you out shopping, and your mom took you to a birthday dinner. All in all, it was a great day!

But, a certain bun was seemingly more excited than you were for your birthday, because he seemingly peed himself in excitement the moment you picked him up. Lightly scolding him, you set him down on his rabbit bed that you made him, “‘Doul, what the heck man!” You laugh a little, remembering back to when he was but a teeny kit, “You’re not a baby anymore, bubs, you can’t just pee on me!” The bun is surprisingly smart, allowing you to let him mosy around your house (now your own apartment that you saved up for for years). After he figures out the layout, he’s able to figure out where his pee pad is, along with his grass bed, actual bed, and food/drink area. He is also able to hear where you are, allowing him to cutely hop after you if you’re not already carrying him.

Going to the bathroom to wash your hands, you hear his barely audible pawsteps behind you, “It’s okay, ‘Doul, I’m just gonna clean myself off, okay?” Flipping on your faucet, you get your hands nice and wet, before you pump some soap onto your hands, and start scrubbing, “Maybe I should shower now, since I’m already here…” You trail off when you feel you bun settle himself on your foot.

Glancing down, you catch him just in time, as he starts to hump you. Gasping in surprise, you try to gently shake him off, but that seemingly just gets himself off faster, as you feel a foreign wetness against your skin, “What the fuck? Are you serious, N’Doul?!” Annoyed with the way he’s suddenly acting, once you finish washing your hands, you reach down, and scoop the bun up, “That’s not cool, bro. Because of that, you can wait in my room while I shower.”

Plopping him in his bunny bed, you turn on your heel, and hurry back into the bathroom, closing the door before he can follow you inside.

Stepping out of your shower, you wrap yourself securely with your plush towel. Not bothering to wipe off the steam from your mirror, you bust out of the bathroom, only to be greeted with your now empty room. The door leading to the hallway is wide open, and your bunny is nowhere to be seen. Completely stupefied, you have no idea how to respond. Did the bun hop up high enough to hit the handle? That should be impossible! A Holland Lop is big, but not that big!

“N’Doul? Bun? Where on Earth did you go?” Deeming your bunny’s safety higher than you changing into clothing, you quickly move out of your room clad in only your towel.

You go room by room, searching frantically for your beloved pet. He has to be here somewhere!

So, when you finally make it to your living room/kitchen, you let out a yell of fear. There, on your couch, is a naked, bunny eared, buff man who’s humping into your previously used panties, “Who the hell are you! Get the fuck out of my house!” Reaching for the baseball bat in the hallway, you hold it up with one hand threateningly, the other currently holding your towel.

A deep, rumbling laugh is heard from the mysterious man, who then tosses aside your soiled panties, “Don't be like that, Love. Your N’Doul only getting myself ready for you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do with my bunny?” He chuckles, relishing your cute reaction.

“I’m your bunny, (Your Name). I’m N’Doul.”

“The hell you are! Get out, before I bash your skull in!” He stands to his feet, completely towering over you. Gulping in fear, you move backwards, but then you notice his eyes. They’re the same milky white your bun has, “I-I’m warning you! Stay away from me, you creep!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, showing how large his hands are compared to yours, “I’m not going to hurt you- I wouldn’t be a good mate if I did.”

Without thinking, you chuck your baseball bat at his bunny-eared head, before turning and running to your room. You hear the metal bat make contact, along with a yelp of pain. Locking your door behind you, you search your room for your car keys. Not long after you dump out your purse in pursuit of your keys, you hear loud footsteps thumping towards you.

A loud bang echoes throughout the room, as the man’s hit practically shakes the foundation of the wall, “Open the door, (Your Name)! Open it right now!” He sounds angry, and when you don’t respond fast enough, he starts trying to break down the door, his muscled body practically bending the thin wood with each body slam.

Screaming in fear, you start to cry. Thick tears drip down your face, as you plead with him to stop, “I-I don’t want to! Get out of my house!”

With one last mighty slam, the humanized N’Doul breaks into your bedroom. His nose is bleeding from the bat hitting him in the face, but other than that, he’s completely unscathed. Hearing you cry, he immediately goes to shush you, “Don’t cry, Love. Now that you’re considered an adult in your species, we can finally begin our life together.”

To his chagrin, you continue to sob, completely scared out of your mind, “No! Get out! Stop pretending to be my bunny, it’s weird!” He approaches you slowly, his much bigger form slightly bumping into a few pieces of furniture. This gives you enough time to make a break for it.

You try to round his form, almost making it to what’s left of your bedroom door, only to be stopped by a meaty arm practically slamming you onto your bed. Trying to get up, you quickly realise that escape is impossible, as his muscular legs practically trap you against your mattress. He uses his weight to hold you down, as he bites into your neck, trying to make you submit.

“Shh, stop resisting me, my Love. I promise that I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives,” He continues to bite at you, as your screams are muffled into your sheets.

His large hands rip your towel off of you, exposing your slightly wet body to his prying fingers. The rough pads of his fingers rub at your erect nipples and unprepared slit, trying to get you as wet as possible.

“You’ll be a wonderful mother, I can tell you were made for this,” His cock head bumps against your tight entrance, forcing itself in as you scream.

He starts a breakneck pace almost immediately, relishing how your walls massage him so sinfully- as if you were made for only him, his inexperienced fingers rub at your clit harshly, trying to make this as pleasurable for you as possible,

Whilst this was happening, a bolt of pure pleasure shot up your spine, as he hit a certain gummy patch in your pussy, causing you to gush uncontrollably. Loud keens escape your gaping mouth, as his harsh ministrations are enough to almost make you cum immediately.

“Fuck, your body accepts me so perfectly, Love. It’s like it knows I’m going to pump you full of kits,” He lightly slaps at your clit, causing you to seize up in orgasm, quickly throwing him over the edge as well. Hot, virile cum overflows your womb, his swimmers quickly inseminating you. But it’s not enough. N’Doul, moments after orgasm, bucks into you even harsher than before, wanting to push as much of his cum as possible inside of you, “My perfect mate, I love you so much! I knew you were the one for me from the first time I met you! Only the love of my life would accept me even with my blindness!”

Still sensitive from before, the both of you hustle over the edge in mere moments, your release squirting all over the both of you.

“We’re not stopping until I know that you're pregnant, my love. Our wonderful kits are such a good birthday present, no?”

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #yandere jojo

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nerdy-simp-7120 · 3 years ago

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hi! if you're comfortable writing this, could i ask for a scenario? this has been in the back of my head for a while.

what would be the reaction of the brothers + dateables of watching mc play resident evil in the dimitrescu castle? who would be down bad the most

thank you! feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write this ofc

I love this ask (stan tall vampire lady). The only thing is that I accidentally turned it into a “how they feel about the game.” I managed to add in some parts with MC playing as well to make up for it

Update: I literally finished the request yesterday but my wifi went down and I lost everything 😩 😩

I also wrote this in the middle of the night so sorry if there are any errors! Enjoy!

Warnings: cursing.

How the OM! characters would react to you playing Resident Evil (Dimitrescu Castle edition)

Lucifer

Will not care at first

"I hold no interest in such trivial simulations."

His weakness? Being a simp for you.

He decides to look into the game a bit more in private later on.

Will lowkey practice the game

If you ever catch him playing it, do not say anything because he will stop immediately, deny everything, and might not ever do it again

With time, however, Lucifer will come to master the game.

Here comes the showing off.

When you're rambling about the game with Levi, Lucifer will join the conversation and you two will be like "wow, boomer knows something for once--"

Or when you're struggling on a part of the game he will be like, "hand it over"

Before expertly getting through that part.

Can defeat Lady Dimitrescu if you ask him to but be careful cause he might make you beg

sadistic bastard

or you can be a badass and show him your skills

Will be a tad shocked at how easily you handled it but won't let it show (okay Elsa)

Also proud though

Lucifer's internal monologue: “That’s right- show them how it’s done, Y/n.”

Mammon

Scared.

Will watch you play and cover his eyes during every battle

"wHAT IS THAT?!" at everything you come across

I hope you're good at playing one-handed because you'll have to use the other hand to hold his throughout the entire thing

Admires you're bravery but would never admit it

"You were horrible! ...N-nice job beating the game, not that I c-care or anything. You sucked anyways!"

Not even 10 seconds later...

"Can I watch you play again?"

Comes to find that the faces you make are adorable: when you're concentrating on a battle, when you win, find a valuable item, etc

He loves being able to see how you're feeling up close.

If you catch him staring when you take a break or something he'll blush and either ask you if you have a staring problem or that you have something on your face

He may or may not buy cheap merch (a tiny key chain of Lady Dimitrescu or your favorite character) for you, all the while spewing lame excuses

Please bear with him- he's trying.

Leviathan

"YOU ALSO LIKE RESIDENT DEVIL?!?? Ah! I-I mean..."

Congrats, you just found yourself someone to discuss the game with

Is open to cosplay the characters with you

You two will have competitions to see who can beat the game faster.

You both also share theories with each other all the time

Or simply discuss the characters together

He purposefully stays quiet to hear you ramble on and on- dude finds it adorable

You two also sometimes argue debate over a character name or event in the game

Because while you have Resident Evil

He only knows Resident Devil

This is the equivalent of Devilgram and Instagram

I mean

They’re the same,

But a couple things were altered, y’know, to prevent copyright

So yes, there are definitely a few quarrels here and there

But all in all, it’s a fun gamer bud experience

Don’t tell him I told you but he thinks it’s hot when you show off your badass skills in a boss fight

Satan

He plays it on the lowkey.

Not because he’s embarrassed

But because he partially takes his anger out on the characters

During gory scenes, he imagines it’s him torturing Lucifer, fueling his determination to win

A calculated person, Satan is a smart player

But there are times when he’s particularly angry and he becomes a reckless one, jumping into fights impetuously

This is where you come in and beat the enemy for him

He may get angrier, thinking you are underestimating him

But, for the sake of the person he loves, he calms down knowing you didn’t mean to offend him

A small part in the back of his head also admires you for being able to handle the fight a ton better than he did

Congratulations, you just earned yourself the great Satan’s respect (resident evil-wise).

Asmodeus

“Oh my, I never knew you were into such gory games! Does this mean you’re into blood play, because I know many things about--”

He may look carefree on the outside

But on the inside?

Let’s take a look, shall we?

Holy shit

What the fu--

Jesus christ, can you pull a move like that in real life?

He needs to be careful to not piss you off.

If you can handle this, who knows what you could be capable of?

Hold on.

Wait, you look so concentrated

Eeep! How cute!

Anyways, it ends with him snapping a bunch of pictures

Keeps them for himself and may brag to his brothers about how he got some “special” shots of you

Obviously never elaborates on what the special part means to keep his dear siblings on edge because, what the hell, they want to know what these special shots are

Would not play the game because there’s “tOo MuCh BlOoDsHeD”

We all know he’s most likely seen his fair share of bloodshed

“What if the adrenaline gives me acne?”

He’s probably just bad at the game--

Verdict: Asmo is a simp and not afraid to flaunt it.

Beel

...Are you okay?

Do you think about homicide--?

Oh, that lady looks nice.

Huh, she’s 9′6″??

What’s her name? Lady Dimitrescu?

Okay-- WAIT WHY IS SHE TURNING INTO THAT??

Not scared, just a tad bit concerned

Poor Beel, concerned for Lady D :’)

Also, seeing the death’s of Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra hit different

Because he know what it’s like to lose a sibling.

Safe to say he understands Alcina’s pain when she raged about her children being dead.

Also concerned about how the gore could affect you

Because isn’t stuff like this supposed to traumatize humans?

Would support you regardless though

And thinks that you’re really brave for playing the game and still being able to stand strong

On another note, Beel decided to make small flower graves for the three sisters and Alcina because he’s adorable and kind like that

Belphegor

Likes the game but is too lazy to play himself

Regularly watches Satan play (or at least as much as he can before deciding it’s nap time)

I hope you enjoy Belphie using you as a body pillow and watching you play from now on

Makes small comments here and there to help you out

“To your left... Oh, and open the window- yeah, that one.”

Will smirk, impressed, when you deal with the fights and win yourself without his comments.

“That’s my Y/n”

(Sorry I don’t know what else to put for him :’))

Diavolo

“Is this a human trend?” meme

Will watch excitedly and “oooo” whenever you do something cool

Be careful though, because the questions will not stop as you play

“What’s that? I see. What’s it for? How do you win the game? Who’s that character? Why can’t you do this? What about--?”

Diavolo, you’re awesome and all, but please

shush

On the inside, is also one that might be a tad concerned about your mental health because doesn’t that gore traumatize humans?

Wait, you do this for entertainment?

...

Another warning: he will shower you in merchandise from the game

I am not above the fact that this man has a game room

And he will try to master the game

Casually pushes all his paperwork over to Lucifer so he can play Resident Evil

RIP Luci

Unfortunately, Diavolo will have trouble grasping the game and how it works

You will have to explain many things to him

Good luck- he’s a bit of a boomer (but willing to learn) and may or may not get distracted staring at you

But anyways, he enjoys engaging in the competitions you and Levi have

Whether it be playing as well or simply watching

He just loves to see you happy

Barbatos

Oh my, what’s this?

Will watch you play

and constantly criticize how filthy the Dimitrescu castle is

“Do they have any idea how many rats this can attract?”

Barbatos, your weakness is showing.

Seeing you so happy while playing the game helps him relax from his daily troubles tasks

He rewards you with a pat on the head any time you beat a foe

When Diavolo goes over to the HoL or when you come over to play in he silently cheers you on in the background.

Solomon

Yuh

Is educated on the game and knows his shit as the only other human

Maybe knows a bit too much of the game

You will later come to find out that, somewhere in his mass tangle of shady connections, he knows a developer

Might give you tips and tricks to get on higher levels

But never, and I mean never, challenge him like you would with Levi to see who can beat the game faster

Because he will beat you by a seconds on purpose, just to piss you of

all the while doing that dark, shady chuckle

Asshole

But anyways, if you manage to finesse and beat him, he will be

So confused

“I thought I did it all right, what went wrong...?” he thinks to himself.

On the outside, however, he’s smiling

Will hand over some praise to his little apprentice, but if you look carefully you will see a spark of annoyance

We get it Solomon, you’re a sore loser.

In the end, he will still leave somewhat impressed at your skillz

Simeon

w h a t

Is a little scared

“Is this one of them video games you kids play nowadays...? Just kidding. What are you playing-- oh my”

Might try to figure out how to play

But alas,

Simeon is yet another boomer

So he will have quite some trouble even figuring out how to move

And why does he hold the controller like that what

If you’ve seen that one picture of him holding his phone sideways you know what I mean

On another note, if you look through his poem book, then you may or may not find a few poems describing how amazing and badass you looked hustling the entire game

Luke

about to bomb this master hill

No literally is considering bombing the computer or whatever you’re playing on because wHAT IS THAT

He is just

Scared

This will give him nightmares for weeks

Apparently Alcina reminds him of Lucifer so he kinda

Hates her

Says he will protect you

--as he runs out of the room in fear

Irrelevant but the one he hates the most is fetus baby

Michael have mercy on this poor boy--

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backdownth3rabbithole · 3 years ago

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Just Keep Breathing Momma..

Below is something that I stumbled across today as I was holding the baby in one arm, making breakfast for both kids (my 1 year old and 3 year old), trying to tidy up the mess they had already made within twenty minutes of waking, feed the cats, clean the dishes, and helping my husband gather his things to rush into work on his one day off this week (also my usual "day off", when I get time to catch up on a small amount of the mountain of to-do's that have piled up during the week).

It really hit home for me today.

Today, of all days, I was feeling the pressure and all of the other stinging feelings that come with being a stay-at-home-mom.

The depression, rage, and impending doom that is brought on by all of the tasks I've been meaning to get accomplished for the better part of a week now, but haven't been able to do because, well, making sure my family is fed, clothed, and taken care of comes first.

I am so overwhelmed by this multitude of tasks that are incomplete and needing help, but being too afraid to ask because I know that after managing a store full of grown men (children) all day, my husband is exhausted too. From this stems the dreary feelings of being all alone, even though I'm surrounded by my beautiful family, whom I know all love me beyond measure. I know they would do absolutely anything to help me, I need only to ask.

Being a SAHM is NOT easy by any means. There are more days than not, that when I wake up, I'd much rather just hit the reset button, crawl back into bed, and start over again tomorrow. Unfortunately, that's not an option. It's the days like today that I have to remind myself that I CAN DO THIS.

Keep pushing Mommas.

Something that was posted from another blog that I couldn't find the link to: "Stay at home mum (SAHM) depression... the elephant in the room nobody talks about. I mean, how dare you complain after being gifted this opportunity to stay at home and raise your own kids? But it's not that simple: of course we SAHM's are grateful to stay home and raise our young but that it's literally all we become. No one talks about the isolation. No one talks about the loss of identity. No one talks about the loneliness. No one talks about losing your sense of self. No one talks about how you had to give up your career because it's cheaper for you to stay home. No one talks about how you cry in the shower because your day was overwhelming. No one understands why you're tired. No one understands why you're irritable. No one understands why you need a mental break. No one understands why you're so aggravated with your kids. No one understands why after you've been home all day, the house is a wreck still. No one understands why you just need 5 minutes with no one speaking to or touching you. No one understands why you've lost your sex drive. No one understands why you're completely and utterly exhausted, after all, you just sit at home all day. No one understands the feeling you have when you are told you don't have a "real job." Most of us were working women at one point. We got to go to a job and interact with other adults outside our home. We contributed financially to our household. (Shoot, most of us want some kind of side hustle or part time job because it would sure help with financial relief.) We didn't feel like an endless maid. We got that break away (even though yes, work is a love/ hate relationship) that gives you space from the people you live with (children, spouse, etc.) because yes, every relationship needs time away in it to not go crazy being around each other 24/7. That's not healthy. Contrary to popular belief – you need a break daily. I can't tell you how many women I meet or know that say "oh, you have too much time on your hands," I sure wish I could stay home, I wouldn't complain." Good for you! I can guarantee you will change your mind 6 months in, unless you're wealthy and have money to constantly go do things. I once was you. I wished upon a star I could stay home with my kids because I wanted to spend all the time I could. I didn't realise what all came with being a SAHM. Oh but you chose to have those kids. You should've thought about that before having them. If you didn't want to go through all this you should've never had kids. And you said you want more? Seriously... Heard those all before. Next time you hear or see a SAHM venting her frustrations, listen and make her feel like she's somebody. That her struggles are not invalid. If this is you mamma , please reach out and seek help to ease your pain if even a little."

#sahmlife #stay at home mom #mom life #parent life #momblr #preggydiaries #pregnant and tired #keep pushing #you are not alone #you are enough

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luckycheesefoodie321 · 5 years ago

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Prince of Tennis (2019) meme

I was tagged by @hardworkingprocrastinator aka @rupru-russiaxprussia whom I do believe I ranted with about the Imperial Pair ship, and the unexpected potential of Si Yang x Qi Ying… so thanking you kindly for another excuse to rave about ChinaPuri… sooo uhhh time for some fun times!!

Tagging: I have 0 idea who to tag because we a smaller fandom

Warning: I have not watched or read the original manga/anime soooooo I’m in an even smaller subset of the fandom babeyyyy!!! It has also been a couple months since I watched the show, so there is a strong chance I’ll have forgotten names and situations, and just general thoughts I have... BUT WHATEVER time to rant to the thirteen people who’ve watched ChinaPuri!!!

Questions:

1. Favorite character(s)? 2. Favorite school team(s)? 3. Favorite coach(es)? 4. Favorite supporting cast member(s)? (characters who aren’t regulars, aren’t on tennis teams etc.) 5. Favorite original character(s) in the adaptation? 6. Who do you think enacted their role best? 7. Favorite singles match? 8. Favorite doubles match? 9. Favorite story arc? 10. Most amusing tenipuri scene(s)/moment(s)/running joke(s)? 11. What did you like most about the adaptation? 12. What do you think the adaptation could have improved on? 13. Any other thoughts you want to share?

Answers: THIS ISH GETS LONGGGGG SO CUT OFF NOW

1. Favorite character(s)?

MU SI YANG BABEYYYYY!!! I already love a stoic glasses boi, but Mu Si Yang (again not TeniPuri Tezuka, just ChinaPuri Si Yang) may be one of my favourite takes on the stoic glasses boi… like I don’t often enjoy live action versions of anime, especially because the acting is never the best (and granted this one too, had some okay performances) but the guy who plays Mu Si Yang melted my heart… he was the stony-faced serious captain, who could deliver a subtle joke that left you snickering… but he was also the determined, earnest, crazy talented leader with his own hidden struggles who just wanted to take his team and friends as far as they go into competition… which is an essential part of any good sports drama… and he captured it so perfectly… and I love him.. he’s so beautiful too… I would fall in love with him in a heartbeat, and I don’t often say that about characters (like I love them but never in love ya dig?)

Zhou Zhi was a close favourite…basically I just love the two genius senpais…

2. Favorite school team(s)?

Oh god… Yu Feng maybe? We spend the most time with them, they have the most screen time of all the other teams…we have a whole training arc where they’re continuously winning against the struggling to evolve Yu Qing…very reminiscent of the Karasuno-Nekoma rivalry in that they help each other get better… I would’ve loved to see the rivalry/camaraderie develop even more so that when Si Yang leaves, the relief at having this network of tennis friends would’ve been that much more powerful…

Also I really enjoy Xu Ziping’s hustle… I love the story of Yu Feng…they had a shitty coach and had to make a deal to keep winning in order to even remain an official team… and when Yu Qing faced Yu Feng, I really couldn’t tell who I wanted to root for because I knew there was real weight behind every loss for Yu Feng…

After that, maybe No. 6… they’re so chill, they’re not straining for each win and just enjoying their time on the court…and the Old Coach dude was a great character to introduce...

3. Favorite coach(es)?

Maybe No. 6’s coach… I legit can’t remember his name but he oozes skill and experience without all the stress of younger coaches who bend over backwards for success… and while, again, the circumstances surrounding his appearance was a bit waffle-y in execution (which is about par for live action adaptations), I love that he serves as a sage outsider who can assess in three seconds what kind of player Lu Xia is, and what he needs to do to improve… I love me a good wise character who still knows how to inspire people in a fun way but you never, for a second, doubt that what they’re saying is legit advice, even if their mannerisms are goofy…

4. Favorite supporting cast member(s)? (characters who aren’t regulars, aren’t on tennis teams etc.)

Oh I mean…Stretcher Bros for life amirite? They were great…they were just hanging out, trying out.. Huang Jing is kinda jerk-ish, but he’s the starting antagonist who turns out to have a pure heart and a genuine love of the sport (kinda like Tsukishima Kei from Haikyuu!! or the GoMs from Kuroko no Basuke)… and Xiu Wen is such a soft boi who wants to shower in peace without girls being in the locker room…

Put these two besties together forever…and I just love how cuddly they are with each other…no hesitation to hold hands or hug…it’s gooood

5. Favorite original character(s) in the adaptation?

Um…idk who’s an original character??? Again never watched the original anime/read the manga!

SO IMMA CHANGE THIS TO FAVOURITE SHIP!

5.5. Favourite ship? (Get ready my friendsss issa long one)

Si Yang x Qi Ying my friendssss… a super unexpected pairing that came outta nowhere!!! Because the trailer clearly shows (or maybe it doesn’t and I forgot) that Lu Xia and Qi Ying are gonna be THE THING but then we get hit with the surprise senpai-kouhai/team manager ship and I’m like uhhh were you planning this or am I reading into it too much???

Like y’all they were flirting right in the beginning… that whole bit where she stands outside the change rooms and Si Yang confronts her, and she begs him to add Lu Xia to the team (even tho he already did) and he was weirdly teasing her about the roster when he had no reason to, and she was kinda bantering back with him and she fully called him out later on… i was like, umm this is a vibe

They just kept getting thrown together in weird ways…aside from Lu Xia, she’s probably had the most interactions with Si Yang of all the other team members… she’s the only one he calls Xiao~ like the boys in the tennis club have their nicknames like Dachi, Ah Mu, Ah Yan, but only Qi Ying is Xiao Ying!! he’s not a nickname guy… and maybe if it were a girl/cheerleader thing, you’d think he’d call Peng Xiang, Xiao Xiang BUT NO… only Qi Ying gets called Xiao Ying!!!

AND ANOTHER THING: other than Lu Xia, he’s the only one concerned for Qi Yang, despite what he says, when she gets caught in the rain and gets sick… he fully visits her in her room, and receives the call about her health after they send her to the hospital… he says everyones worried BUT YO they’re straight up just bored and end up having a pillow fight…sooooo can’t be that worried…

AND ONE MORE THING: Qi Ying, I get she’s this weird mascot/team manager figure on their team (even tho she’s meant to be a cheerleader but they never invite Peng Xiang to any of their team dinners or their training camp) BUT WHEN SI YANG RETURNS HOME, THEY SEND IN QI YING TO GREET HIM and they have this whole charming convo where she teases him...and they were chatting as if they always had this banter going on but they’d only talked like 3 or 4 times on screen before then, so there’s this whole relationship she has with the tennis team (not just Lu Xia) that is implied but we don’t really see it! And when she teasingly calls him Captain Si Yang after he returns to China, he had the softest smileeee!!! HE TOTALLY DOES HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR HER!! He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t happy to see her... and then she leads him to their surprise party in the club room and he just keeps saying Xiao Ying… like damn you keep trying to establish the Lu Xia x Qi Ying ship (and it is a decently strong ship) but Si Yang x Qi Ying is soooo good!

After this Rival Pair, and then Golden Pair - our resident married couple

(POST Here: all the gay faves they didn’t even try to hide)

(POST Here: almost confirmed ships by the end)

6. Who do you think enacted their role best?

I…I think this is obvious… NEXT

Jk… other than Si Yang, I really enjoyed the guy who plays Lu Xia - Peng Yu Chang… he played the typical “stoic, super talented/genius sports idiot” type prolific in sports anime (like Furuya from Daiya no A, Kageyama from Haikyuu!!, Midorima from KnB)… but he was never too stuck in his head, and he was never mean… too often there’ll be a moment where this type of character is played too seriously, gets stuck in their own head, and lashes out at anyone they deem getting in their way, especially when they feel they’re stuck in a rut… which Lu Xia is in, for essentially the entirety of the show, in one form or another…

But PYC played Lu Xia as this mildly cocky, but still incredibly enthusiastic young genius who is looking for the next big challenge so as to further himself, but is so obsessed with this one opponent (his dad), that he can’t see the bigger picture and realise his entire way of playing is a mirror of the very opponent he’s trying to overcome… but even at the height of his stagnation, he’s never mean to Qi Ying, who tries her best to support and encourage him… while he does distance himself from the team, it’s not an active dismissal of their assistance or support… he can play a straight faced comic when embarrassed/discombobulated (like Si Yang when faced with Yan Juice), but also always participates in most of the weird antics his team is up to… and it never feels OOC and thats clearly a result of Peng Yu Chang’s subtle acting…

ALSO PENG YU CHANG IS IN OUR SHINING DAYS, A SUPER UNDERRATED CHINESE FILM THAT HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL TO BE ADAPTED INTO LIKE, A ONE SEASON SHOW AND I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU WATCH IT

7. Favorite singles match?

Oh pfft… please… PLEASE IS THERE EVEN A QUESTION it was arguably the best match of the whole show, it was what we were all waiting for, a super tension filled, super hyped up match because it features my favourite character, who has simultaneously been promoted as THE BEST PLAYER ON THE TEAM but also super injured and avoiding over-exertion… MU SI YANG…against his personal rival, whom had never tasted defeat before, and subsequently trained like crazy, throwing all of the money at professional players, FOR A YEAR, in order to be ready to face him… JI JING WU

That’s right baby, its the Imperial Pair Match (I do hope I’m using all these nicknames correctly..I just tried to pick them up from the anime/manga to save time writing out their names XD)…

This match is everything you ever want in a match…it’s a gritty, no-holds-barred, all-out, clash-of-titans-style face-off between probably the two most talented players in that whole (province? Prefecture? Idk China regional names) BUT YEAH THESE TWO ARE CLEARLY TOP TIER PLAYERS WHO FINALLY GO HEAD TO HEAD… it’s a year in the making, Ji Jing Wu is in peak physical condition, but Si Yang is not…and yet we see Si Yang powering through the literal agony of an arm injury that threatens complete destruction of not only his tennis career, but his general usage of that arm… and for glory and to bring his team to the national stage, Si Yang lays it all on the line… and he still gives Ji Jing Wu a run for his goddamn money… he matches him hit for hit, and at one point he was even WINNING…and had it not been for his arm, I swear up and down that he would’ve beaten Jingwu…

BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE BEST PART… i mean, all sports anime and just shounen anime in general have those moments where the characters are down and out and summoning the power of friendship and determination to their side to go above and beyond the physical limitations of their bodies… NO THE ACTUAL BEST PART WAS JI JINGWU’S RESPONSE TO THE WHOLE SITUATION

The goddamn respect he gave Si Yang.. this is his rival, the only person he’s ever viewed as equal and even superior to his own skills (at least as far as people the same age as him go)… Jingwu wants to beat him so bad… and he’s heard the rumours about Si Yang’s injury, and he even sees for himself how bad the injury is… but as a skilled player who recognises skill himself, he does not do Si Yang the disrespect of going easy on him… what kind of arrogant prick has that kind of nerve to give less than their best to someone who is giving them 120% effort… no, Ji Jingwu doesn’t hesitate to hit back full power, even as he’s yelling at Si Yang to stop before his arm is utterly destroyed… because the last thing any person of talent would want, is to see another person lose such an incredible gift… but even worse than that, have that person realise someone was going easy on them... it was so goddamn beautiful… and when Jingwu grips Si Yang’s hand and raises it high because he and everyone there knows who the real winner of that match is…they all know that they just witnessed something incredible, and he wants everyone in the stands to not only acknowledge it… but remember it…

And then he proceeds to fund Si Yang’s surgery, his flight, his meals, his rehabilitation, AS WELL AS take care of his team… and if that isn’t love, idk what is… like they don’t even disguise the hard core DEDICATION AND LOVE... Jingwu has obsessed over Si Yang for a year and it goddamn shows

Honourable Mention: I really enjoyed Zhou Zi versus the demon child whose eyes go red…we finally get to see Zhou Zi stretch his legs and push himself and I LOVED THAT… like he’s actually trying his best and that’s dope… also the match against the captain of the team his little brother his on… he basically led this cocky motherfucker by the nose for 5 games, pretends to be losing, and then destroys him in the following 7…

OH AND I GOTTA SHOUT OUT MY OTHER GLASSES BOI YAN ZHIMING VERSUS HIS BEST GUY FRIEND FROM YOUTH… that was a beautiful evolution of Ah Yan transcending but also evolving his data tennis against his childhood friend and it feels good ya know?

8. Favorite doubles match?

Oh pfft anything with the Rival Pair… they bicker like cat and dog, but then you put them on the court together, and suddenly their chemistry is through the roof… also Baiyang and Qiao Chen are a stronger couple than Qiao Chen and Yu Xing Zi and that’s the damn tea

(Same two posts for why that tea)

9. Favorite story arc?

Oh man… ummm training arc with Yu Feng was fun but it was definitely beaten out by the “village raises a child” arc when Si Yang leaves, so literally all their previous opponents step up to encourage, train, or otherwise intimidate Yu Qing into giving it their all, improving, and ultimately winning the finals… plus this arc gave so much depth to the network of teams who all have the same aspirations, in the end, and want to push forward the people who beat them to not let their loss be in vain…and that’s pure…

10. Most amusing tenipuri scene(s)/moment(s)/running joke(s)?

Yan Juice... especially the first time NEXT

Honourable Mentions: When Lu Xia gets stood up by Xinglong Lu Xia running interference on Qi Ying’s admirer in the final ep When Zhou Bros run into Lu Xia in the dressing rooms Stretcher Bros trying to become Painter Bros

11. What did you like most about the adaptation?

It captured the essence of a good sports anime: power of friendship, ridiculous action sequences of outrageous moves that would never be allowed in real life, determination and guts is all you need to succeed, that all-or-nothing mentality of high schoolers who suddenly have tunnel vision and no future thinking whatsoever, and decide to risk life and limb for one match… plus it kept a charming and comedic beat running throughout, really endeared you to the characters, and their struggles... AND NO ONE WAS MEAN... well I mean Ya Jiuxin was an angry bitter jerk for a hot second, but he ended up being endeared towards the lil fluffball kouhai of his, and we all know he loves Xinglong in his heart of hearts... other characters like Jingwu, or demon child, or Zhou Yu’s captain were cocky or arrogant, but they were never mean to each other, and respected each other’s game play even if they were defeated.. a couple were poor losers, but they didn’t throw a fit or try to get revenge or anything like that... everyone, in general, had some decency to them, and in fact all of Yu Qing was a super nice...sometimes too nice and self-deprecating that you wanted to smack them...

12. What do you think the adaptation could have improved on?

This is mostly just a consequence of live action adaptations of sports anime where they have to condense a whole lot of story that is already condensed from the manga into a palatable show that anyone, not necessarily pre-existing fans of the original source, can enjoy… the story around the characters seemed waffle-y and disjointed… sometimes things would happen but wouldn’t connect smoothly to the next thing that happens… there was this whole implied close relationship between Qi Ying and the team that just was never shown… I would’ve preferred they made her an official manager, so it would make sense that she’d be so close to the team, when for whatever reason, Peng Xiang wasn’t…even tho they’re both cheer captains…

The match sequences were cut down a little too much (tho I get why)… I would have loved that final training arc to be extended, to fully flesh out how discombobulated Yu Qing was when Si Yang had to leave, and how forcefully the other teams picked them up and got them better… so to develop the dynamic between the teams before this would’ve been good, but obviously they can only got the core actors of each team at a time… hence that barbecue scene… but if they’d pulled off something like the Haikyuu!! Tokyo training arc, or even something like in KnB where the teams were thrown together in wacky hijinks or impromptu match situations to develop their camaraderie (and they sorta tried to but nothing really came of the interactions), it would’ve made the final training arc THAT MUCH MORE heartwarming and I would have cried..

13. Any other thoughts you want to share?

I’ve already said enough. The end.

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tentwentyninecompositions · 5 years ago

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East Chicago Love Letter

12 DAYS PRIOR

“What time did you say she was flying in?” Myles questions as he continued to clip the ends of the floral arrangement. Dutch Hydrangeas and the Peony flower are Kary’s favorite. So as a small token of his love Enzo put together multiple bouquets for his wife.

“Uh..should be around 8:30 maybe even nine o’clock. You think these look alright?” Enzo put the first bundle of flowers into an expensive, stained glass vase. He stepped back to get a better look at what he had put together.

Myles finished off his bundle doing the same as his friend. Together in silence they admired the beautiful flowers that smell like a hint of lavender. Another one of Kary’s favorite things in life.

“This is the nicest thing I’ve ever seen you do for anybody.” Myles spoke up. He went around to the other side of the kitchen to fish around the refrigerator for a drink.

“Yeah man I know. I just want this night to go well. I’ve been planning this since her last trip. I know Kary inside and out so I know she’ll love this.” Enzo prides himself in knowing the things his wife loves, hates, and anything in between. “How could she not? I picked every one of these flowers myself, cut ‘em, washed ‘em...the whole nine man.” He chuckled.

“I don’t doubt you on that at all. Kary is a very lucky woman to have you in her life. I’m always praying for y’all and you know my mama is too.” Myles began to clean up the mess he made in Enzo’s kitchen whilst sipping on his most beloved drink combination. Bourbon and apple juice.

“Thank you brother, I really appreciate that.” The men returned the kitchen to its original clean state and went about their individual business.

——— ———-

Later That Evening...

Glancing at the time of his watch Enzo blew out a sharp breath as he put the finishing touches on his anniversary dinner. After Myles left, Enzo spent the remainder of his alone time prepping his home for his wife’s arrival. Kary has been traveling non-stop for work for the past month, striking deals, meeting with designers, hosting events etc. Mrs. Warren has been a very busy woman. Being that today is the couples five year wedding anniversary Enzo thought he would prepare his wife’s favorite dish. That being chicken marsala in a Sherry cream sauce and brown butter risotto. He bought her three floral arrangements with each bundle having the stems wrapped in one hundred dollar bills.

In addition to the flowers, Enzo splurged on several designer fragrance bottles, the finest brands of mascara and lipstick tubes in all of Kary’s favorite shades. The receipts from his shopping spree didn’t put the slightest dent in his bank account. When it boils down to love and showing his appreciation for his woman, Enzo will go above and beyond.

ENZO

Fastening the second button from the top on my shirt I picked up my brush to run over my hair for the fifth time. I don’t know why I feel so nervous to see my wife. Maybe it’s because she’s been gone for over four weeks and my anticipation has reached its peak. Coming home after a long day's work to go to bed alone put me in a funk for the first two weeks of Kary’s absence.

Around the week three day two mark, I shook the chip off my shoulder and went back to my old routine. Five a.m., I go on my three mile run. Afterward, I go through my usual morning hit list before going to work. Step out for lunch around two-thirty and head over to the ring for seventy minutes exactly. By four o’clock I’m back to work and home by seven on the dot. And finally after weeks of forcing myself to get out of my own head I get the love of my life back.

I’m nervous to see her but it’s a good kind of nervous. The sound of the door opening scared the hell out of me. That’s when I heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Enzo, baby, I’m home.”

My heart began pounding in my chest as I rushed to finish getting dressed. Cleaning up behind myself I sifted through my mental checklist to ensure part two of my plan runs efficiently.

Taking a deep breath I cut the lights and left the room. I followed the sound of Kary’s ‘oohs’ and ‘oh my gods’ coming to find her in the kitchen. Her curiosity almost got her into trouble but she managed to keep her hands put.

“I didn’t expect you until later.” I said. Kary glanced over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. I told Myles this suit was a great idea.

“I thought I would surprise you by catching an earlier flight. Clearly you had the same idea with surprises. You set all this up for me?” She shrugged off her coat and closed the distance between us.

I took a moment to check out all of my efforts, happy with the turn out. With flowers, candles, her gifts displayed nicely, and the scent of the meal I prepared I definitely earned some points for this. Eager to minimize our distance I met her halfway drinking in every inch of her that I could with these barriers in between us. By barriers I do mean our clothes. She must’ve gotten a temporary room to clean up and change in because this scent lingering on her body and clothes is new to me.

“You took..a shower...without me?” I spoke and exhaled in between kisses. Kary gets a good laugh out of me pretending to be upset with some things she does without me around. I’m never truly bothered but it’s fulfilling to make her laugh at silly shit.

“This was an exception E, I needed some serious TLC after that long flight.” Backing up to cup my face in the palm of her hands Kary searched both of my eyes in silence. The expanding grin on her face inspired my own.

“Why are you smiling so much?” I asked of her.

“I could ask you the same thing but I already know it’s because you’re happy to see me. How much did you miss me?” Kary’s hands busied themselves with my clothes as she examined me from head to toe.

“Oh I can show you better than I can tell you. Ready to eat? I cooked for you and it’s ready. As am I.” I joked. She and I laughed in richness and ventured to our kitchen together.

She went back to admiring the layout of our house with me not able to keep my hands off of her. It took me all of five minutes to realize that her skirt is brand new. It’s one of those skirts that come to the knees with buttons going down the center seam. The only difference from this particular style of skirts and others is that this one is fitting. Kary will throw on a dress any time of year but a skirt, she rarely will purchase.

“I like this new outfit. When did you get this?” Getting a feel for the fabric I expressed the pleasure it brought to me beneath my fingers.

“I was feeling adventurous and this little number happened to be marked down seventy percent off. I had a feeling you’d like it.” Kary stepped ahead and hustled around the kitchen not waiting for me. My all time favorite thing to watch is Kary fending for herself when she’s hungry. Whenever her craving for food is magnified she gets this look in her eye. In the beginning of our relationship I would place a story behind every little thing that attracted me to her.

Now I just identify the attraction as attraction. I find it appealing and arousing when she showcases her need for the basics in life. Her will to eat is at the top of that list.

“Mm..mama’s hungry.” Chucking at her maneuvering swiftly to fix two plates I caught her eye.

She flipped me the bird and motioned for me to come closer and help her out. “Mama is hungry for many many things. Was Myles here? I’m getting the sense that he was. That lingering trace of Polo is hitting me in the face.”

“He was for a little while, yeah. He told me to pass on a hello to you. That fool tried so hard to stick around for dinner but you already know how that conversation went.” I took over the ship again ushering her to sit at the table. “You go off to work for a month straight and here you are still putting in time? I don’t believe you. When did you ever sleep?”

“Fixing a plate is nothing compared to what I was doing over the past four weeks. You spent all this time preparing all of this for me. I think the least I can do is help out a little.” Here goes the bargaining. Typical, overachieving, non-stop working Kary Santos-Warren.

“Oh come on. Save me the good wife speech baby, I know what you are capable of. What are you drinking tonight? Red..white..water..” Carrying her plate over to her I matched her smirk.

“I think I’ll switch it up tonight. Do we still have that Brandy?” She questioned me about it.

Tipping my head to her I walked back into the kitchen to grab a plate for myself and the Brandy. She and I were given this forty five year aged liquor for Christmas. I put it away towards the back of our liquor cabinet saving it for a special occasion. Tonight is the best reason to open this bad boy up.

Kary volunteered to bless our evening and our meal. Her speech touched me in a few ways due to some things that she spoke on.

“You’re getting emotional? Wow, this isn’t the Enzo I know and love. What’s changed, lover boy?” Her bare foot tickled my pant leg before she continued on with raising the bottom half with her toes.

The coolness of her toe pads gave me chills but I embraced them all. I’ve missed this woman terribly so nothing she can do will get on my nerves.

“I’m not being emotional. Your blessing touched me deeper than usual that’s all. Talk to me about your trip. How was it? I wanna know everything.” Kary spilled every detail of what her work trip was like, not leaving any information out.

Setting my empty glass aside I folded my hands behind my plate, drinking in her existence. She helped herself to seconds of dinner signifying that I outdid myself. I do have a fourth course for her, which is her absolute favorite.

Kary licked her knife clean and gently set it down, giving me this intense eye. “I must say babe, that was amazing. I can tell you took your time with the sherry. Myles must have been busting your balls about not screwing up my sauce huh?”

“God, you are so fucking smart. Yes, Myles was giving me the hardest time about the dinner period to be honest with you. He was practically with me all day until I kicked him out.” Rising from my seat I picked up her plate and mine, taking them both to the kitchen.

“Is there more? Because quiero mas, por favor..” Kary sang out from the dining room table.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be right back.” I guaranteed her. Removing my infamous banana bread from the oven I set up a small plate neatly for us to share. Removing the Brandy from the shelf I poured her and I another serving, rejoining her once again. “For you my queen. Open.” Seeing Kary’s mouth open visibly made my erection go from a three to an honest ten.

Her eyelids closed along with her mouth around the fork. “God, I have missed the satisfying taste of your baking. You are the only person I know that can bring me this type of joy from food alone. Happy anniversary my love. You’ve given me the best escape from reality, the best life, so much joy, peace and happiness. In all of the years we have been together, I have never once felt unhappy or unimportant. You are my everything babe.”

Although Kary and I have had difficulty in the past trying to get pregnant, maybe tonight is the night. Mashallah.

#tentwentyninecompositions #short series

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suplex51 · 5 years ago

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Return To Form

This spot wasn’t much for the history books, or your “Must-See Sights” brochures. It wasn’t a shithole, or anything; It was a well-kept, wooden-walled village — like the kind you’d see in Hong Kong, only more Japanese-flavored — located within the Red Light District of Cotes Ward. Just a little very far off the beaten path, that was all.

Oh, and it was also rumored to be home field for a community of whitebread mafia. They, themselves, were rumored to have permanently ( slash not-so-peacefully ) evicted the fort’s former citizens, not to mention rumored to be currently causing problems for several local businesses — local businesses rumored to be under the protection of the Third Street Saints, incidentally. Harassment, sabotage, kidnappings, the works. Plenty of those rumors floating around, though they were certainly coherent enough to be truths.

And they all ended tonight.

A promising testing ground for his uncapped powers, coupled with a chance to do good… this was The Spot. This was the target. This was the stage, and Travis Touchdown was ready to play.

_________

Two mooks. Two nondescript men, unimportant enough for our narrative to go and label them “A” and “B.” A and B, were standing outside The Spot’s main entrance, standing guard while casually chatting it up with assault rifles in hand.

“So, uh… what’s the catch, this time?”

“Really, man? We’ve been out here since half past forever ago, and /now/ you ask that?”

“Yeah. Because I wasn’t curious about it ‘til now. Because I wasn’t bored enough to care ‘til now.”

“Coulda asked about my day, but— ugh, fine. It’s a dame in charge of this little sake joint. Cute place, cuter owner. The ‘fuckable grandma’ type, y’know?”

“Eww.”

“No accounting for taste… Anywho, it’s a shame what’s gonna have to happen. But that’s what you get for paying off the Saints instead of us.”

“...”

“... seriously, though. Just wait ‘til Johnny comes riding back with her in tow. This broad aged like-”

Headlights cut through the fog, cutting off B’s defense of GMILFs with the telltale roar of a souped-up motorbike engine.

“Thank god, finally,” A groaned, already stepping to the roadside. B, however, was slightly more… hesitant.

“ ‘A’...?”

“I swear, if you’re fixating on old lady titty again—”

“I DON’T THINK THAT’S JOHNNY—”

I mean… It was technically Johnny. In a way. A very demented way, that I’m sure B wasn’t referring to at all, but I’ll go ahead and point out anyways. It was Johnny’s severed head, launched through the air like a fastball, embedding itself into A’s skull like cannon fire going through wood.

Gross.

B barely got a second to process this before the headlights became blinding, and that bike closed in... _________

Cut to the interior. The wretched hive of scum and villainy. People, both old and older, moving around corridor after corridor, eating, drinking, hustling and bustling- you get the picture. I’m done setting up.

The front doors blew off their hinges, a shower of splinters and gore, courtesy of B’s broken body and the vehicular-manslaughterer that’d ran him over; The most ridiculous motorbike you’d likely ever see. And it kept going, right down main street, flattening anyone else who didn’t get the hell out of dodge before it finally came to a stop.

There was a moment of stunned silence from one and all.

Footsteps hit the ground just outside. It served as a signal for the entire gang to stop gawking and start pointing weapons at the man approaching from behind the billowing fog. Guns opened fire, shooting first and asking questions never. A curved beam of light — a green saber — lit up in the man’s hand.

Travis eagerly got to work.

Running out like a rocket, the otaku assassin lunged into the first wave of baddies, deflecting bullets like a well-trained Jedi and faster than the eye could track. Bada bing, bada boom, a group of seven fell to bloodless pieces — the Tsubaki beam katana’s heat had instantly cauterized any fatal wound.

Travis stood still for a moment. The casino slots — forced visual imagery — activated in his head, started rolling. Every life taken added up to another imaginary coin insertion. Seven lives, seven rolls. Nothing lined up quite right, yet, but that was okay.

More people were coming. More chances.

Quick reminder that this is, in fact, our hero, even if some perspectives beg otherwise.

Travis kept moving, veering to the right, starting his path down the narrow maze of streets and corridors. War cries sounded off all around. Criminals and scum were spilling out from buildings and alleys — like ants defending their nest — unsheathing swords, loading guns, etc., etc.

It was all pointless.

Travis. Wrecked. Shop. Up and down, all over town.

He danced around sword strikes and bullet volleys. Leapt from wall to wall, flipping, somersaulting and buzzsaw-ing through a row of mooks. Bisected a man at the waist, grabbed his upper half, spun around and clubbed another dude to death with it. Turned a woman’s tommy gun spray against her comrades, through skilled swordplay and just spitting in the face of physics. Powerbombed her into paste. Even kicked a gangster to the ground and used him as a bloody skateboard.

All that… through only a portion of the base.

It was over-the-top violence, committed against evil ad nauseam. Slots rolled, rolled and kept rolling. Travis felt the adrenaline, the testosterone. The sheer thrill of battlefield dominance overflowed in him, aroused him, empowered him! As good and heroic as he’d arguably grown, in the heat of the moment, this M-rated action still felt right to him.

Suddenly, it happened. It finally happened— well, multiple things.

The Tsubaki’s battery depleted. The surviving criminals brought out the big guns — RPGs. Travis found himself cornered and surrounded. But most importantly, the reason why that smile of his grew so sadistically triumphant? Those slots had lined up at last.

Seven. Seven. Seven.

“My lucky number…”

The rocketeers paid no heed to Travis’s muttering. And they didn’t try to understand what he said next. Instead, much like the beginning of this massacre, they shot first, asked questions never.

Their final mistake.

“Strawberry On The Shortcake.” ____________

The Spot was carved apart in a single instant.

It had fallen victim to a 12-foot, crimson lightsaber. Victim to a boner-powered, time-stopping assassin, who was soon trying his best to dig his motorbike out from under the rubble. He'd eventually tell Victor how it all went down, but for now? It was time for Travis to go home feeling like he’d done some good…

In his own, not-so-good kind of way.

#no more drabbles #death cw #blood cw #gore cw #sanpatron #((HERE YOU GO!! Thanks to Devon for proofreading!))#((I wanted to include more powers but Travis just has... so many...))#((And he's only fighting regular humans so... Yeah. Couldn't go on too long.))#((Hope you all enjoy!!!))

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seljepw · 6 years ago

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Sleeping With the Enemy: Part 3

A/N: My beloveds. Thank you for your unending patience with my slow-ass story crafting. This one has been in the works for a long time, and I’m so freaking happy to share it with you. Sláinte.

When last we left our heroine: A year ago, Crowley and the reader came to an agreement. Since then, they’ve fucked seen each other twice, and it’s no longer as cut-and-dry as it once was. What is going on, here? Just great sex? Just business? Or something more? (Catch up on previous chapters HERE)

Menu Warnings: HERE THERE BE SMUT. Demon power kink, unprotected sex (you know this is pretend, right??), public sex, orgy, Crowley’s dirty mouth, etc.

Weighing in at: 7,780 words. I’m not even sorry.

The King of Hell had been fucking with you for months.

Note: fucking with you, not fucking you. Therein lay the problem.

It started the morning after his last visit. You had dragged yourself, sore and sleepless, to the shower. You spent much longer under the hot water than usual, hoping it would wash away some of your confusion. By the time you got out, the huge bathroom was full of steam. In the condensation on one of the mirrors was a large heart, around your first initial and a capital C. Crowley’s voice echoed in your mind.

“I didn’t expect you to pine away, doodling our names in little hearts on you chemistry notebook…”

You hastily wiped your hand over the drooling lines, and hoped that neither of the Winchesters had wandered in in the last hour.

A month later, you had opened the shitty motel room door in po-dunk nowhere, Arkansas, to find the entire room covered in flowers. Every kind, every color possible. On the pillow, tied to a black rose with silk ribbon, was a note. “Your favorite must be here, somewhere.” When you climbed in the car the next morning in your FBI duds, Dean asked if you were wearing a new perfume.

You managed to keep the boys out of your room for the remainder of the case, and every night when you “went to get ice”, you discarded another bin full of flowers.

You did keep your favorite bloom, though. Pressed in your hunter’s journal with no other context.

The fancy underwear had shown up next. Scraps of red lace that looked like they had been made to be taken off almost immediately, but would disintegrate with normal use. When you left them in the box, the next day they were replaced with soft, clearly expensive pajamas. Those you wore. But not out of your room. Sam and Dean were observant enough to notice when you got new clothes, and you didn’t want to have to come up with a groggy, pre-coffee lie, one morning.

It went on for months. Pizza you didn’t order arrived at the library where you and the guys were pulling an all-nighter. On laundry day, your clothes were magically folded and arranged in a C on your bed. A box of bandaids in Baby’s backseat, the day after you put down a rugaru, with a note inside that said “Just protecting my interests…”. It was getting infuriatingly difficult to explain away or hide the evidence of demonic visitation from the Winchesters, despite the fact that you hadn’t actually seen your demonic visitor, at all.

And then there were the dreams.

Every few nights, you would dream of Crowley’s hands on you. Burning fingers on your thighs, breasts, wrists, pussy… one night, you woke up coming. Most nights, you just woke up frustrated, flipped the pillow to the non-sweaty side, and tried to get back to sleep.

You (ahem) filled the void with a few guys here and there, but mostly, they just took the edge off enough that you didn’t literally claw your way up a wall. Nothing quite matched the intensity that you had experienced with Crowley. Eventually, you gave up on outside help, and invested in a large pack of batteries.

It had been almost six months since your last… what to call it?

“Encounter”? Too spaceshipy.

“Assignation”? Too romance-novely.

“Date” was flat-out wrong.

Whatever it was that you and Crowley had indulged in, it had been too long since it happened.

October came again. You hadn’t heard from Crowley for two months. No semi-intrusive gifts, no cryptic notes, not even a bathroom mirror doodle. You tried not to think anything of it. So, he had gotten tired of toying with you, and moved on. Fine. Good riddance. You would just have to compartmentalize and move on with your own life. It wasn’t like he owed you anything. This all started as basically a business deal for an ancient, witch-fighting talisman. Nothing personal, right? In fact, it was a relief not to have to hide the evidence from Sam and Dean. You definitely did not miss him. Or, so you told yourself at least twice a day, when you caught sight of the Luisgeàrd as you changed clothes, or felt it pressed between your breasts under your shirt. Despite yourself, though, you never took it off.

~~~

Another vampire, another hunt, another po-dunk nowhere. Two lane blacktop and spanish moss-layden oak trees whipping by the open window. Unseasonable heat that was sticking to your skin, making you itch from the inside out. Dean singing and drumming on the wheel. Between the sexual drought and the muggy air, you had to concentrate hard on not throttling him.

When you and the boys finally tracked down the vamp, you spent a little longer than normal beating the shit out of it before the killing blow. Sam had given you A Look, but said nothing. Dean offered to buy you a drink.

The town bar was a standard Southern-American dive. The kind of place where a night had never passed without at least one drunken sing-along to “Friends in Low Places”. Women and men in ass-hugging jeans and tank tops bumped around like bubbles in a kettle. Dean was in heaven. Soon, he was hustling pool in the corner, a blonde woman giggle-whispering in his ear, a huge grin on his face. You saluted each other with your respective drinks through the neon light and loud voices.

“You good?” his raised eyebrow asked.

Your smirk and sip responded, “Not as good as you, but I’ll keep.”

His head tilted a bit to your left. “Heads up, lame pickup line at 9 o’clock.”

You turned to face the guy just as he slid into the stool next to yours. In the time it took for him to smile at you, you gave him a once-over. Not bad. Cute, in a Friday Night Lights kind of way. No outward display of “southern gentleman” that really covered up misogyny. And the lack of a rebel flag on his shirt was a welcome change from the other customers. He’d do.

Before he could say anything and ruin the moment, you spoke first.

“Buy me a drink.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, ma’am!”

A beer and a half later, things were right on track. His hand on your thigh and his mouth on your neck and your thoughts most definitely not on the King of Hell, thankyouverymuch.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmured in his ear.

“Aw, fuck, yeah!” was his charming response. This guy was lucky you were so hard-up.

“Just gimmie a minute to freshen up.” You extricated yourself from his grip, slid off the stool, and headed for the bathroom. As you passed the pool table, you and Dean had another silent conversation, where you assured him you had things well in hand, and would call him if needed.

You actively didn’t think about Crowley. You didn’t think about Crowley while you checked to make sure you had a condom in your bag. You didn’t think about Crowley while you sat on the toilet. You didn’t think about Crowley while you washed your hands. Then you glanced in the mirror and saw the note.

“Enjoy the junk food, Love. He’s cute. You deserve a treat. -C”

In your shock, the only thing you could think was, So, the King of Hell uses Post Its. Good to know. Then the rage hit. How dare he pull something like this? Months of radio silence, and then suddenly popping up and implying that he was giving you permission to sleep with what's-his-name, out there. Fuck. That. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he could control you.

“Fuck you, asshat!” you snapped to the empty bathroom. Then you were through the door, pushing past drunk rednecks, not hearing Dean calling your name, not seeing the confused look on “junk food’s” face, until you were out in the humid parking lot, the Post It crumpled in your fist.

Dean had the good sense not to press you. The drive back to the hotel, breakfast at a diner in the morning, and then the whole way back to Kansas, he didn’t ask what had happened in the bar. He didn’t ask about as loudly as a person could, in fact. Sam kept giving you the patented Winchester Look Of Concern™ when he thought you couldn’t see. But they knew you. They knew that when you had shit to deal with, you did it alone. The only one who’d ever meddled in your all-alone shit-dealing was Crowley. Damn him. You twitched angrily and turned up the volume to your headphones, closed your eyes, and ignored the Winchesters all the way to the Bunker. It wasn’t until Dean killed the engine that you opened your eyes and realized your fingers were tangled in the Luisgeàrd’s leather cord.

~~~

You almost didn’t open it. The box on your bed. Large, white, and tied with blood red ribbon. You were considering how to get it to the garbage chute without Sam or Dean seeing it when you read the note attached.

“Please wear this when you yell at me. -C”

“At least he said please this time…” you grumbled. Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the box.

It was a dress. A white silk gown that poured over your hands as you rustled it out of the tissue paper. You held it up for inspection, and stared. Simple. No frills, no lace. Just artfully draped white silk that fell to the floor. Despite your anger- which hadn’t abated, by the way- you were enchanted. You thought back to last Halloween as you kicked out of your jeans and flannel, and then slithered the silk over your head.

The gown you’d worn to Crowley’s masquerade ball, when this whole thing started, had been uncomfortable and heavy. Swathes of red velvet that left you restricted and off-balance. Undoubtedly gorgeous, but so not you. The leather mask that hid your features and cut off your peripheral vision hadn’t helped, either. The foreignness of your costume that night had lent an overall feeling of Other to that whole experience. And that feeling had colored everything that came after. Added to the confusion. Was still adding to the confusion.

This dress was exactly the opposite of last year’s getup. You regarded your reflection, spinning slowly. It fit you well. More than that, it suited you. You could move easily in the lightweight fabric. It didn’t get caught under your feet as you walked, and the sleeveless bodice gave you full use of your arms. The glowing white of the silk played with the tone of your skin, making you glow, too. The Luisgeàrd, in it’s constant position around your throat, nestled comfortably in the neckline, which looked like it had been cut specifically to show off the talisman.

“Sneaky fucker,” you murmured, fingering the wooden disk.

“I prefer to think of it as, ‘Romantically Mysterious’,” rasped a familiar voice in the corner.

You’d been expecting this, but you still flinched. Whirling to face him, months worth of angry thoughts stampeded to get out of your mouth and bottlenecked, leaving you working a jaw around silent fury.

“You look radiant,” was all he said.

All the trapped words coiled in your throat like an about-to-cry lump. You managed to gasp in a breath, then blurted out, “Where have you been?”

Seriously? You berated yourself. ‘Where have you been?’ Like you’re some neglected housefrau confronting an errant husband at 2:00am. Fuck, get your fists off your hips. You don’t care, remember?

You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling foolish in the gorgeous dress. Still, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t back down. Crowley unsettled you, and that was unacceptable. You weren’t unsettled. Ever. You couldn’t be, in your line of work. You put on your fight face and looked him squarely in the eye.

He just stared at you for a moment, something like sadness around the corners of his eyes. “I was watching,” he finally said, quietly.

“You were watching? Well, thank you. That’s not creepy at all.”

“It occurred to me that we both might need some space, after…” he stopped and looked away. His glance fell to your bed.

The memory surfaced. You and Crowley, face to face, sweaty and sated...

“What the fuck are we doing, Crowley?” You’d asked. “What is this? I mean, I barely know you. Half the time, I don’t trust you... What are we doing?”

You remembered the feeling of his palm on your cheek and his forehead pressed to yours. The way he had whispered, “Y/N, I-”

...And that was when the boys had come home, and everything had gone to shit.

You took a small step forward. His eyes darted to the silk rustling around your feet, clinging to your thigh as you moved. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked… scared. It was unheard of to see Crowley, King of Hell and consummate cocksure ass, off his game. Maybe this dress was exactly what you needed. Leveling the playing field, so to speak.

“After what, Crowley? After last time, in this room, in that bed, when you almost said something you’d regret?” You’d closed the distance, now. If either of you reached out, you could grab the other.

“I need your help,” he said, finally meeting your eyes, again. There was no guile. No half-smile in the words. Just fear and perhaps a little shame. “All right? There it is. I need your help.”

You were stunned. “You… what?!”

“There are some rumblings in my kingdom. Pissants who think I’ve lost my edge; that Hell’s not what it could be under my rule. ‘Make Hell great again’, and all that twaddle. I’ve made a shaky alliance with a coven-”

“A coven? Of witches?! Crowley, do we need to have another talk about what I do for a living?”

He continued speaking as though you hadn’t. “-A coven that’s powerful enough to sway the dissidents. If I can show that I’m strong enough to forge a treaty like this, it would go a long way to restabilizing my reign.” Somewhere in that statement, he had rested his hands on your hips. He gave you a gentle shake and looked at you through his lashes. “A delegation from this coven is coming to the Halloween ball, tonight, but they’re old-school. They respond favorably to symbols and archetypes. Pomp and circumstance. They may not like dealing with me alone. I need backup, Love.” He hooked a knuckle under your chin and lifted your face to his. “I need a Queen... for the night.”

“A…. a queen. You mean… me? Me, queen?” Great, now you had devolved into Tarzan sentence structure. Get a grip, woman!

He smiled at you. A real smile. You weren’t sure you’d ever actually seen Crowley smile, before. It was gorgeous. His hands were still on you- hip and chin- and he used the leverage to pull you forward into a kiss.

Warm and soft and gentle, this was one of those kisses that seemed to wrap around you, raising goosebumps and relaxing every tense muscle. You wanted to swim in it. Drown in it.

Crowley’s sulfur/incense smell was everywhere. His hands whispered around your waist and into your hair. You signed into the warm solidness of his chest pressed to yours. The feel of his suit coat under your fingers. It went on forever. It was, ironically, pure heaven.

When he reluctantly eased his lips off of yours, your face felt cold. It took you a moment to resurface and open your eyes. Crowley’s earnest face stared back.

“Please, Y/N. Will you help me? Just for tonight?”

You stayed silent for a moment, slowly working your fingers through his hair, not looking at his eyes. Letting yourself enjoy the feeling of making him squirm, for a change. You carefully wound his tie around your hand; got a good grip. That’s when you met his gaze. With a deliberate tug, you command his full attention.

“I’ll make you a deal, Crowley,” you said, low and only a little breathless. “I’ll be your Queen for the night. And afterwards, you will owe me a conversation. About feelings.”

A hint of terror darkened the corners of his face, but his overall expression was one of hunger.

“It’s a deal.”

There was a lurch somewhere in your guts, and suddenly you found yourself standing in a dim alcove, like a theatre box, overlooking a familiar black marble ballroom.

Hell’s Halloween Ball was in full swing, already. The assortment of attendees echoed last year’s. Fae, vamps, and even a djinn or two wound their way around and through the crowd of demons, all decked out in elaborate costumes.

You looked down from the shadows of your hiding place, and once again, the feeling of being so terribly human overwhelmed you. Like a goldfish in a school of sharks. That was when you realized that Crowley had zapped you here before you’d had a chance to grab a single weapon. Or shoes. ...Or underwear. That off-balance, othery feeling took hold of you. You shivered.

“Something wrong, darling?” Crowley rumbled from behind you.

“Just feeling a little underdressed, all of a sudden.” You kept your voice down, even though you were so high above the dance floor, no one could possibly hear you.

Crowley hummed low in his throat and pressed himself to your back, snaking his hands over your silk covered hips and nipping slightly at your earlobe.

“Underdressed is exactly how I like you,” he growled.

Your whimper was purely instinctual. So was the way you arched back, rubbing against him and offering your neck for kisses.

Crowley groaned and bit down on the junction of your throat and shoulder. A slight keening sound happened somewhere in the vicinity of your vocal chords without your permission, and you ground against him again. You had just a heartbeat to enjoy the feeling of Hell’s most impressive cock rolling against you before that feeling was replaced by a sharp slap on your ass. You pulled a breath through clenched teeth and gripped the railing in front of you.

“Careful with that. It’s loaded,” you said, and shook your ass at him.

“And who’s fault is that?” He retorted.

“Who’s fault?” You huffed a laugh. “Yours! It’s been a while, you know.”

“You didn’t listen to me- I tried to steer you towards that little snack back in Alabama. You chose not to take the offer.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you said without any real anger. “Like I’m gonna do what you tell me.”

“Cheeky.” Another sharp spank, softened by a kiss behind your ear. “We can-and will- play later. Now, it’s time to work.”

He stepped back and let you turn to face him. At some point, he had donned his costume. It was the same from last year, you saw; a red cape draped over his impeccable black suit, a multi-horned devil mask covering the top half of his face. Standing in the shadows of the alcove, the flickering lights from the ballroom below picking out the lines of that mask, Crowley was back to the mythical dark figure you’d encountered a year ago. A wolf-in-the-woods kind of shadow that made all the animal parts of you quiver. The devil that had fucked you senseless in the dark above his library. God, you wanted him to do it again.

He must have known how his appearance affected you, because he licked his lips, smirked, and crooked a finger in your direction. His eyes flared red as you took an involuntary step forward.

“That’s it, my Queen,” he murmured low, “Come to daddy.”

You snorted in quiet amusement as you crossed the carpeted floor to him. “Ass.”

From behind his back, Crowley produced a mask for you. It was white filigree, not solid, so it wouldn’t cut off your vision like the last one, the metal swirls were wrought to dip low over your nose and high on your brow, almost horse like. The antlers that sprouted from the top gave the appearance of a crown, much like the demonic horns on his own mask. You reached a tentative hand out to touch one of the points.

“A deer?”

“A hart. A White Hart.” When you looked askance at him, he continued, “The White Hart, in stories, is a traveler from another world. An emissary of sorts. And the bestower of blessings upon Kings. I told you- symbols and archetypes.”

“So this is a political move, not an aesthetic one?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sweet missionary on a spit, woman. Have you seen yourself? It’s both.”

He helped you settle the mask in place- it was much lighter than you thought it would be- and offered his arm in a courtly gesture. “I think we’ve reached ‘fashionably late’, by now. Come on, Pet. Let’s give them a show.”

~~~

The ballroom fell silent when you walked in. The music died away, dancers stopped swirling, conversations ceased, and everyone turned toward the King of Hell as though it were choreographed. You looked out over the sea of supernatural faces and tried to slow your heart rate. If Crowley needed you to be a Queen, and it got you an honest conversation from him, by fucking Hell, you would be a Queen. A deal’s a deal, after all.

“Friends, demons, countrymen,” Crowley addressed them, a little sardonically, “Welcome to my annual ball. As always, until sunrise, the legendary hospitality of Hell is open to you. Enjoy yourselves!”

The music rose again, and the party resumed. A path opened in the crowd, and Crowley led you to the dance floor. Although the fizzle static of a few hundred conversations filled the huge room, it seemed that every eye was still on you. Your bare feet, blessedly hidden by the liquid swirling of the dress as you moved, made no sound on the cool marble floor. A lack of shoes allowed more maneuverability than last year’s heels, but it made you feel even more venerable. And you still didn’t know how to waltz.

But Crowley wasn’t King of Hell by chance, and he played his role flawlessly. As he swung you into into his arms, you felt the familiar hot pressure of invisible hands lifting you just an inch off the floor. You fought a gasp and smirked at him. The hands in question had lifted from just under your ass.

“Bastard,” you murmured.

“Oh, darling, you say such lovely things,” he retorted, and began swirling you around the floor.

With the whirling motion blurring the world around you, it was easier to forget that you had entered the room as the center of attention.

“So, this is a yearly thing, huh? I didn’t know it was such a big deal.”

“Well,” he tilted his head conspiratorially, “It’s not like we’re the types to have a company Christmas party. This lets everyone mingle, drink, blow off steam…” At that, one of the manifested hands under your skirt reached a little deeper, running a finger of heat through your folds. You hissed through clenched teeth, to keep from crying out. Crowley continued in a conversational tone, but low enough that only you could hear, “Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look, tonight, Y/N? I can’t bloody wait to have the business bit over and done with. I’m going to eat you alive.” His eyes flared red as you moved through a small shadow on the edge of the floor, and an ethereal tongue joined the fingers under your skirt, lapping at the juices there.

“Fuck, Crowley, you fucking asshole… shit…” You whispered and writhed, trying to ease the pressure. But his power just moved with you, and you couldn’t get away. Your vision went white around the edges and your breath came in shallow pants. The King pulled you closer, to keep you from swooning back, and never broke stride.

“Oh, there she is. Hello, darling,” he crooned, “Did you miss me?” The spectral tongue never relented, and a sucking pressure was added to your clit. You bit your lip in a desperate fight to keep quiet. Crowley kept going. “This is the version of you I like best, Love. All flustered and pliable and dripping.” The disembodied tongue pushed deeper, writhing inside. You couldn’t bite back all of your pleasure and a small Aaaaah! Slipped out, buried in Crowley’s neck. He continued, “That’s it, Love. Let your King take care of you. You like when I play with you, don’t you? My squirming, soaking wet little toy. I wonder how long I can keep playing with you until-”

The music died again and Crowley broke off mid-sentence with a whispered curse. He stepped away from you, to greet the intrusion. The invisible mouth abruptly stopped its torture, as well. But the hands remained, more to keep you upright than anything else. Which was a good thing, as you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own. Again, the occupants of the room turned toward the main doorway, in which stood three women in glittering black gowns.

The witches had arrived.

~~~

To help get your heart rate down and your brain back in working order, you took mental notes of the new guests. Queen-for-a-night or not, you were still a hunter. The blonde one was young. In her early 20’s, if you had to guess. She wore a white mask over her eyes. On the other side of the doorway, there stood a statuesque brunette that seemed to be nearing 40. Her mask was red. The one in the middle was a head shorter than the other two, but was unquestioningly In Charge. She was old. Middle 80’s maybe? You hardly ever saw a witch owning her age, like that. Her black mask and black dress made her white hair stand out against the dark marble room.

“Ladies,” Crowley’s tone was friendly, if a little cautious, “I’m so glad you could join us. Please come in.”

A new path cleared, and you saw a small dais set at the end of the hall, on which sat two empty thrones facing the crowded room. That was where Crowley led you. He didn’t even look behind to see if the witches followed- just took your hand and proceeded to the thrones.

You had regained most of your composure from his mid-dance teasing, and though you were still a little short of oxygen, you were able to tread silently on your own bare feet, once more. You tried not to think about how many eyes were on you- you just focused on Crowley’s warm, steady hand in yours, and followed his lead. You moved on autopilot until you were both seated, Crowley on your right side. You must have made an imposing sight. Crowley all in black and red, you in glowing white, and both masked faces staring down at the assembly.

The witches stood at the foot of the dais, looking up at the King and Queen of Hell, and remained silent.

You swallowed quietly and rested your hands on the throne’s armrests. Queen. You are a fucking Queen. Get yourself under control. Head up, shoulders back. It’s showtime. Think Queen, damnit. You tried not to dig your fingernails into the carved, dark wood.

“We have some illustrious guests,” Crowley addressed the assembled creatures, “The Exalted Coven has sent a delegation to Hell, in hopes of forming an alliance. Isn't that right, ladies?”

The white haired woman inclined her head a fraction.

“Then you are welcome. Let’s talk business, shall we?” From some hidden pocket, Crowley produced an ornate scroll. The parchment scratched and fluttered in the silent air as it unfurled, stretching from his lazy hand to the old woman’s feet. She would have to stoop to pick it up and read it.

“Just a boilerplate agreement, of course,” Crowley continued, “You are granted the protection of Hell, blah blah, and we gain your fealty, with tithes due every seven years, etc etc.”

Your hunter brain went into overdrive. Protection of Hell? Tithes? What would this mean for you and the boys and your work? What parts of that contract was Crowley glossing over to make a quick sale? You were so busy speculating that you almost missed when the old witch spoke.

“Your Queen seems very quiet, Crowley. She doesn’t speak?” Her voice was strong and resonant, not at all the voice of a little old lady. You also clocked the use of Crowley’s name, not “your majesty” or whatever.

Everyone turned to you. Fuck. Shit, fuck, damnit, pissing hell. They expect you to talk, now? For a heartbeat, you thought terror would overwhelm you. But suddenly, you felt a warm hand on the back of your neck. Crowley’s demonic power applying reassuring pressure to the spot in your spine that he had repaired so many months ago. That feeling of Otherness washed over you, and the world took on the fuzzy edges of a dream.

“She speaks,” you said, mildly amazed that you sounded so calm, “She just doesn’t speak merely to fill silence.” Where did that come from? Astounding yourself even more, you continued, “The King has made an offer. Do you accept?”

She regarded you for one long, agonizing moment that was probably only a heartbeat. Her eyes dropped to the rowan wood disk on your chest. You couldn’t be sure, with masks obscuring all faces, but it looked like the old woman cocked an appreciative eyebrow at you. In the corner of your eye, you saw Crowley’s mouth twitch as if trying not to smile.

The witch then nudged the air with her chin, which was apparently some kind of signal, because the two women at her sides stepped forward quickly. The youngest picked up the trailing end of the contract and held it steady, the other ran her hand slowly down the parchment, muttering under her breath. The Luisgeàrd grew slightly warm against your chest, as it always did in the presence of witches’ magic. When she reached the end of the contract, the red masked witch murmured a few words in her leader’s ear. Wrinkled lips pursed at Crowley in a decidedly “we are not amused” sort of way, the old woman flicked her fingers towards the contract. A few words and phrases blazed red, changed, or disappeared altogether.

So this is how the supernatural elite negotiate? You thought. It was a far cry from beers and pizza and yelling in the Bunker’s war room.

Crowley shrugged and grinned like a precocious child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Can’t blame a bloke for trying, now can you? The changes are acceptable. We have an agreement.”

The witch smiled, stepped forward, and dragged a finger along the bottom of the contract, leaving a thin line of crimson behind. Signed in blood.

Crowley’s grin widened, and the contract vanished with a flick of his wrist.

“Now, then,” he announced, “You ladies are welcome to share our hospitality, but I understand if you have more pressing matters to attend to, tonight.”

“The Maiden will stay,” said the witch, and the young blonde stepped forward, “The Mother and I will go to our own festivities.” Crowley gave a half bow of acquiescence from his throne.

And with that, they swept out, the music rose, and the party resumed. The blonde witch- The Maiden, apparently- was swept up into a dance by a demon in a wolf mask. At least, you hoped that was a mask.

As you contemplated that, Crowley pressed his mouth to your ear and whispered, “You were bloody magnificent, Y/N.”

You turned to face him. “Really? I thought I was gonna pass out when she put me on the spot like that. I just said the first thing that came to mind that sounded… I don’t know… Queenly.”

“You were perfect! Fuck, that was perfect!” And there, in full view of the movers and shakers of the monster world, he grabbed your arm, swung you into his lap, and caught you up in a devouring kiss.

As if the guests had been waiting for this signal, the tone of the room changed. A throbbing beat threaded through the music, the lights dimmed a bit, and the air seemed to take on a crackle of energy. When Crowley moved from your lips to your throat, nipping and sucking and kissing, you stole a glance around the room.

In an alcove, two vampires were busily feasting on a faerie. One on her neck and the other… Oh. Definitely not on her neck. The faerie looked like she was having the time of her life.

On the dance floor, waltzes had given way to spinning, grinding couples and thrupples, costumes shoved aside so hands and mouths could access the flesh underneath.

“Crowley...” You gripped his shoulder to get his attention on your words and not your uncovered skin. “What the fuck is going on?”

He looked out over the ballroom and it’s writhing occupants with a proprietary smile.

“I told you, Love. We like to blow off some steam at this party.”

“But… I mean… This is looking like an orgy!”

Crowley smoothed a hand over your hair and gave you another genuine smile. Damn, you could get used to that smile. It made you all wobbly in all the right places.

“Bugger me, you’re adorable,” he said, “You left before the good stuff, last year. Or, should I say, we jumped the gun on the good stuff, last year…” The grin turned predatory, and his eyes flared in the candlelight. “What do you say, Pet? Want to give them a display of what they missed, last time?” He guided your hand to the considerable bulge in his lap.

In another involuntary response, your fingers wrapped around the suit-covered shaft, pulling a groan from Crowley that he didn’t bother to stifle. You glanced over your shoulder again, at the assembled hosts of Hell.

At the end of the buffet table, the Maiden was laid back among the champagne glasses, the wolf-faced demon hovering over her. She reached down to undo his pants.

Tearing your eyes away, you focused on the King, once more. He was palming your breast- the silk sliding delightfully against your nipple. He licked his lips once again. His eyes were unwavering bonfires of red light, fixed on your face. You hadn’t stopped stroking him, you realized. You kept stroking, almost absentmindedly, hypnotized by the look Crowley was giving you. An equal mix of quiet disbelief and ravenous hunger.

Over the roar of blood in your ears, you began to hear unmistakable sounds from the crowd behind you. It was like being immersed in porn. Fuck, it was hot. You stared into those red eyes and tried to think coherently. Crowley’s hand that wasn’t on your chest began to inch under the hem of your dress. Slow and deliberate and easy to stop if you wanted to.

Just then, a crash of glass behind you drew your attention away. The champagne glasses had been jostled off the table by the force of the wolfman’s thrusts. The Maiden wallowed back, emitting small gasps and squeals. You stared.

The heat between your legs was throbbing. Your face was flushed. This was unlike anything you’d ever seen. The dreamlike feeling hung over you as you slowly worked Crowley’s dick in your hand and gazed into the crowd. You noticed not only the writhing masses of flesh and cries of pleasure, but several grinning faces turned in your direction. Hell was watching.

“People are staring at us.”

“Of fucking course they are.” Crowley bucked into your hand and growled appreciatively when you tightened your grip. You turned back to face him.

“I… I don’t know how I feel about that, Crowley.”

He released his hold on your breast and took a moment to straighten his tie. The gesture was so refined, the turn of his neck so fluid, that it became obscene against the backdrop of intimate noise that filled the air. You squirmed against the wet heat at your core, trying to figure out if you were actually about to fuck the King of Hell- on his throne- in full view of hundreds of witnesses.

He leaned forward to kiss you, moving from your mouth to your jaw and up to your ear.

“This night is ours, Love,” he murmured, “And as much as I would love to make you scream for me right here, I think you like to watch more than be watched. Besides, I’m in the mood to have you all to myself...”

You felt the tug in your gut once more, and again found yourself in the alcove high above the ballroom. From here, you had a bird’s eye view of the orgy- and that’s exactly what it was, at this point. Piles of limbs tangled on the dance floor, humped backs and arched breasts undulating in the candlelight, bare flesh and flashing teeth and holy shit- the sounds. It was enough to make your head spin, even without the supernatural teleport.

Crowley pressed against your back, hands braced against the railing on either side of your body, trapping you. You melted back against him and watched the display on the dance floor. The band hadn’t stopped playing, but there was now a driving, drumming beat hanging over the melody, and people fucked in time with the music. You felt drunk. Drunk and dizzy and more turned on than you’d been in a long time.

“Crowley?” you said, twisting around to ring your arms around his neck and look squarely in his burning eyes.

“Mmm?”

“I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

“My Queen!” he exclaimed through grinning teeth, and yanked you back into the shadows.

In a tangle of kisses and hot grasping hands, you managed to rip away each other’s clothes.

Soon you were flat on your back, nothing between you and the deep red carpet below you, the Luisgeàrd resting on your bare chest, the King of Hell between your legs.

When he reached up to dislodge your mask, you gripped his wrist to stop him.

“No,” you gasped, “masks stay on.”

He chuckled. “We’ll make it a Halloween tradition, then.”

As the music and screams and groans drifted up from below, Crowley reached between you, grasped his cock, and slowly began dragging himself through your folds. Teasing your clit with the blunt head, dropping back down to press against your clenching core, then back up again. Over and over, with agonizing gentleness, never stopping his methodical torture, never looking away from your face.

“Crowleeeeeyy…” you whimpered, trying to buck up and catch him.

The burning, invisible hands clamped onto your hips, holding you still and helpless against the floor.

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N,” he whispered, “Look at you. Soaking wet and desperate to be fucked. Mewling and panting like you’re in heat. My little toy. You think you’re ready for me?” He nudged at your opening, again, applying just enough pressure to slide in a fraction of an inch.

“Aaa! Fuck, yes, Crowley please... please…” Your vision wouldn’t focus. You couldn’t lift your hips to meet him, so you arched you back and rolled your head from side to side in desperation. He didn’t move at all.

“Can you hear them, down there? All those screams and wet slaps?” You nodded emphatically. “That is nothing to the noises I want you to make for me.” Then he slid backwards, away from your throbbing center. It undid you.

A scream of frustrated agony ripped out of you- bouncing off the marble walls of the hall and momentarily drowning out the din below your alcove. But before that scream died away, Crowley slammed into you full force, and a new scream took its place. The distinctive stretching burn that always accompanied the arrival of that cock inside you was shocking after so long an absence. You roared with pleasure at the sensation.

“That’s my girl! That’s my Queen!” Crowley exclaimed into the cacophony, grinding his hips against you, buried to the hilt.

When you ran out of air, the King took advantage of the relative quiet and backed out of you a bit, then shoved back in with a groan. You were only dimly aware of your own noises, at this point- too focused on the hymn of obscenity that the masked, looming devil with glowing eyes was pouring into you as he slowly dragged out, then snapped back into your quaking pussy, again and again.

“Fuuck, you’re so wet, Love! That’s my Queen! So wet and hot and tight- oh, yes! I’ve waited months for this… Dreamed of getting back into this cunt!”

“It’s yours,” you gasped, reaching up to grab the horns on his mask, all reservations gone, just lost in the feeling of fucking the King of Hell, again, “It’s all yours! Oh my god, you feel so good!”

With a roar of his own, Crowley yanked himself out of and away from you, leaving you empty and sprawled on the floor. Before you could do more than squawk in protest, he jerked you up and spun you towards the railing.

“I told you before. God’s not here,” he snarled.

You landed against the barrier, chest and shoulders hanging over the rail. The festivities hadn’t died down. In fact, it looked like they were gaining steam. A swirling, pulsing mosaic of skin and colorful costumes spread out across the ballroom. Anything that could be done for carnal pleasure was being done, somewhere in the room. Still in the throws of your own passion, you took in the display, gasping for breath.

Crowley was behind you again. His fingers stroking in and out of the dripping, aching spot between your legs. He pressed you forward, leaning out over the ballroom. The Luisgeàrd swung back and forth, as if to draw your attention to the spectacle below.

It was the kind of thing that would have made you blush and look away, any other time. Hanging half over the railing, looking down at a kaleidoscope of sex, breasts dangling in the air- so exposed. But not tonight. Tonight, you weren’t you. Tonight, you were the White Hart. The Queen of Hell. And God wasn’t here.

Crowley fisted one hand in your hair and gave a sharp tug, the other hand guiding his cock back where it belonged. Wet as you were, he slid home smoothly, to a chorus of groaning from both of you.

Slowly, methodically, almost reverently, he fucked you against the railing as you watched the show.

“Look at that, Pet. Look at all the fun they’re having down there. But they all wish they were here with you, you know. They all wish they were right here, deep in this gorgeous cunt… Aren’t I lucky? Fuck, I love this pussy! You glorious thing…”

The stream of his words, the slow, exquisite drag and thrust of him against your swollen inner walls, the delicious sting of being suspended from his fist by your hair; it was all too good. The moans fell out of you in one long note, and you felt the tightening in your belly that meant release wasn’t far off. Still, it stayed maddeningly just out of reach.

“Crowleeeeyyy… Crowley, pleeease… I need to come… please!”

Once more, the King maneuvered you effortlessly. In a swirl of motion too quick to follow, he had you facing him, perched on the railing. Somehow, he was still buried inside you. Ruling another dimension clearly came with some physics-bending perks.

“Look at me, darling.”

You stated into those cigarette red eyes, set in the demonic mask, glowing in the dark alcove. The intensity in those eyes made you even more light-headed. Almost to the point of fear. But if you’d learned anything in the past year, it was that when Crowley was fucking you, you could trust him.

Gripping your waist to hold you steady, he aimed a powerful thrust right to your center. You swooned back a bit, eyes fluttering closed with pleasure, grabbing Crowley’s arms and wrapping your legs around him for stability.

“Ooooh, yes!” You cried. So close… you were so close…

“No, Pet. You keep your eyes on me, now.” You brought your focus back to him. “That’s right,” He crooned and ground against you, “You watch me fuck you. Watch me fuck you until you come.”

And you did. You kept your eyes locked with Crowley’s as he pounded into you over and over. All his words were gone, now. His bottom lip clutched between his teeth as he concentrated on you. The demonic power manifested again; this time a merciless vibrating heat against your clit.

You forgot where you were. Forgot who you were. The entire world narrowed to the sensations shooting out from between your legs and the burning points of light hanging in the gloom before you. Somewhere, far outside your senses, someone was repeating, “Fuck! Yes! Fuck! Yes!” over and over. Was it you? Finally, that internal cord snapped and you came, screaming, shaking apart from the inside out, still staring in Crowley’s eyes.

He didn’t slow down. Just kept fucking you through it until you were spent and limp. Then he gathered you to him, buried his masked face in your neck, and with a few more shuddering thrusts, spilled himself deep inside you.

You stayed like that for a long while; locked together, lazily running fingers over each other’s skin, dropping gentle kisses on ears and necks and shoulders. Not speaking. Not needing to. The King and Queen of Hell.

You both managed to get safely to the floor before Crowley slid free. You were exhausted. You just puddled in his arms and drifted in and out, kissing deeply and trying to catch your breath. Swimming in that dreamlike Otherness.

After what may have been days, for all you knew, you felt that lurch in your guts, and realized that Crowley had zapped you back home. He lowered you into your bed, smoothed back your hair, and with another kiss, rose to leave.

“You.. you owe me…” you slurred through sleepy lips, “conver...sation. You said.”

“Next time, Love. I’m a demon of my word, don’t you worry. You sleep, now. My Queen.”

As Crowley pressed one last, gentle kiss against your brow, you finally fell into unconsciousness.

~~~

Tags: @mamaredd123, @motleymoose, @emilyymichelle, @singingphoenix, @cassiopeia-barrow, @roxy-davenport, @fuschiarulerinthebluebox, @generalgoldfishldrm, @sunnysaysbookreviews, @kittennovak

#sleeping with the enemy #spn fanfic #crowley smut #crowley fanfic #crowley x reader #spn smut

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amiralisonlee-blog · 5 years ago

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111m after brutally stomping customer with Air Jordans

(Arizona) released me, I was just sitting at home, I was sick at first, he said. The costly fabric is also embellished with stones, zari, gottapatti etc. Samsung Galaxy M30 (4GB + 64GB) is listed with a price cut of Rs. Video calling is only supported for Wings to Wings calls only.. Blockchain technology is poised to relieve a lot of pain points in the food supply chain. Our leadership are reviewing what consequences may result, Jones said.. "He's not going to become no jerk," Derrick Favors said. Cheap Fake Yeezys A criminal complaint said in August 2016, the Sears brothers and Bennett traveled to West Allis to a marijuana dealer, when one of the brothers fired into the wrong door, hitting and injuring someone. Named Revistas y Peri for its vast selection of newspapers and magazines from across the Spanish speaking world, the shop has a wide selection of quality books including an array of popular titles for children and young adults, as well as entire shelves filled with religious and spiritual tomes (from astrology to Zoroastrianism).Dear John: If you're reading this note, you've already realized I've packed up my Twilight poster collection and left. Transfused beige, brown and dusky are the colours you can go for while selecting these blazers. In fact, they're almost better than cheap yeezy shoes the real thing because you can leer and stare all you want without getting slapped in the face or showered with a barrage of expletives. That the thing John. The tough part is waiting. Within hours of the destruction of the World Trade Center, the Net was flooded with hysterical anti Arab sentiment. The 21 year old is already working with British climbing's governing body, the BMC, to make the sport more accessible to BAME people and women, producing content and video and tailoring introductory sessions so that new starters come back for more. Sometimes you can find durable bags in the artificial ones but might not be worth the amount you spend and you cannot own a branded piece. The ability to cruise along on flat inland water, surveying the sights, is another advantage. From golden arch brows to lollipop lips, it seems like we've seen it all. We can and should make space to talk about the representations of gender based violence and the representation of people of colour in video games (and in movies and on television). To helps marketers to prioritize propositions and then develop and deliver personalized and relevant messages to engage with different audiences(Ferrell, 2016).. Examine de plus prs les coups de curs des quatre coins du globe ainsi que les tendances l'occasion du NationalLipstickDay, le 29 juillet, aux tats Unis, Perfect Corp. "I wore a white full length mermaid dress to my senior prom, which went down to the floor and had a big bow in the middle; my hair was in a spiral perm," recalled Kristi Smith Knutson, a trim blonde with fluffy hair anchored by glittering fake jewels. It happened in Caesar Park Wednesday afternoon, Aug. Something like that is to be expected. Snitker pulled him from the game, just like he did last year when Ender Inciarte didn't hustle and just like Bobby Cox, Snitker's mentor, did 21 years ago when Andruw Jones didn't run. According to the American Orthopedic Foot and Ankle Society, 90 percent of all foot problems are caused by ill fitting shoes. 1, 1200 Good Hope Road. Bar hopping and partying has us wearing sexy knee length boots with heels so high that it's a miracle we can actually get on the bar counter to dance. Last year, for example, only two complaints were filed with state officials concerning food purchased from California trucks.)So how does one become a lunchero? First you need a truck. The drivers carry gray plastic trays of ice to be dumped into the storage holds of their trucks, which already are packed with soft drinks, juices, and milk. The Super Bowl, Olympics, and World Cup all had a big year on YouTube. I eat whatever I want to. At all the venues, people were encouraged to then display objects that meant a lot to them. You probably have heard of Sharp, but not as a cell phone manufacturer. 96, Rs. No other factor comes close! With that being said, when was the last time you thanked a teacher? When have you reached out and provided them encouragement for the difficult work they do? Have you provided a positive review on our website or Facebook page? Social media has changed how we as a society interact, and not necessarily for the better. We have the utmost respect for the Family Court and the judge in this case, we are grateful that the Appellate Division agreed with our assessment that this case met the legal standards for waiver to Superior Court, Monmouth County Prosecutor Christopher Gramiccioni said in a statement. Focus groups and studies indicated that Cuban Americans in Miami wanted the freedom to travel to Cuba and visit relatives, not to mention send them money. Am still crying about the loss, and it has not been my home for 26 years. Williams eventually double faulted to drop the game, handing Andreescu a quick early advantage.. Fast forward a few millennia, and Stand Up Paddleboarding, or SUP, finds itself trendy again. Our sound was very different." Carol and some of fake yeezys for kids the kids have moved back home to Trinidad, but Carl's residency at Monty's Raw Bar in Coconut Grove has continued.

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smollandtoll · 7 years ago

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HC: 5Hole

TW: this headcanon mentions other people in the NHL including certain Blackhawks and Capitals you might not want to read about. You can skip this one and won’t hurt our feelings OR just read until you get to the section divider that indicates the rest of our HC that doesn’t particularly involve just Sid/Geno.

Have you ever listened to Ariana Grande in the shower and immediately come out with an entire head canon about a Gay Hockey Bar called 5Hole? No? Just me?

So imagine Mario owns this establishment of course and Sid works there as a bartender. He’s perpetually single, mostly because he is super awkward, but also a little because his lower half is always behind the bar. There’s also the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with a regular named Geno and no one wants to get in the middle of whatever epic romance they’re figuring out together.

Geno’s story goes something like: he tried to work at 5hole, but was literally always late, and drank too much while on shift, and was generally the worst bartender because he'd get distracted flirting with patrons instead of y'know working. So he turned into a regular, and is ALWAYS dating someone new/constantly with a boyfriend. Cue Sid being like terribly in love with him from afar for 8 years.

We love a pining Sid - meanwhile Geno’s like, “Sid's good friend! Very cute boy. Weird little bit, but fun to chirp. Flirt with Sid all the time. He never show any interest.” See why no one wants to get in the middle of that? Besides you never know if Sid’s going to do something to one of Geno’s date’s drinks. Like he hasn’t so far, because he’s Sid, but sometimes he looks long and hard at the way they giggle up at Geno from under his arm and takes a really long time to set their drink down on the bar. Anyway Geno's busy having a great time and being young and a mess and missing his family so fiercely he doesn't even think his heart is capable of love any more it's so broken, y’know casual. So he's not looking, not even thinking to look back at Sid because sometimes someone just doesn’t register as a prospect.

Meanwhile Geno is like so scary to Sid, like he's so bright and bold and fearless and like he's got so much drama, with all the people in his life and like the on again off again friendship with Ovi and all the other shit, the Russian politics, the constant internal struggle against self-hatred. He’s always in and out of the bar, always laughing brightly at someone pretty or giving his friends shit and then turning his smile on Sid, and Sid just can’t help but be so drawn to him. Geno is so much, and Sid is so little, he doesn’t think he could compare at all, he doesn’t have deep thoughts or an interesting background, he’s not sexy or silly or fun or any of the other things Geno seems to look for in a date.

He definitely wouldn't know what to do even if some miracle happened and he managed to capture Geno’s affection and attention. To always have the weight of Geno's gaze and possessiveness on him? Like it'd be so nice, but also when he flirts even just a little, Sid always FREEZES. It's been years and he still doesn't know how to handle it. So he’s writing himself off.

But other than the Geno drama, Sid actually really likes being a bartender. It suits him because he can’t flirt (that well) but he can quickly and efficiently prepare drinks when it’s busy af and it’s easy for him to stay low-key and focused. He’s actually the best, he's quick, his eyes never miss anything (he's definitely caught a few doctored drinks), he remembers an infinite amount of orders, he's clean, he's no nonsense, and he's pretty enough to make really decent tips when he smiles even if he can’t flirt worth a damn.

Mario is definitely grooming him to take the bar over - sending him to business school, letting him stay with him indefinitely (this is definitely one of those stories where Sid was like wayward, but not in a terrible way, just a little at loose ends and in need of a decent paying job and Mario swoops in with all the experience and convenient answers). (At this point we got deeply excited by possibilities of other people in this universe and our adorable Sid/Geno plot went off the rails. We just have so many faves, guys!)

Other things about the bar/patrons (stop reading here if you don’t want other people):

Mario is one of those old gays that realized late in life that they COULD be gay, like long after they had a wife and four kids and a career and things. Mario's “one that got away” was probably Gretzky (like, okay, in retrospect, I was in love with him and very in denial about it) and Jagr was probably a young coworker that got along well with him and occasionally experienced a tension-laden moment at a conference or two after a few drinks and was DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH HIM despite Mario explicitly saying "BACK OFF I'M VERY HETERO AND HAVE A WIFE AND BABIES I LOVE." But you know how it is when someone is in so much denial about who they actually are, and Jagr knew, he KNEW. But he also wasn’t self sacrificing enough to stick around waiting only to get burnt over and over while Mario always prioritised his wife.

Basically in this universe, NHL = gay(/bi/pan/poly/aro/ace/various other QUILTBAG abbreviations/occasionally straight because they can’t ALL be gay but like just most of them!). There are a lot of regulars at this bar, and they float in little interest groups and cliques depending on who is dating who and who has what in common - you know like real life. Here are some of the groups and what we think about them.

Jonathan Toews is the other bartender who works in tandem with Sid, because we just imagine this being a super Canadian bar. Jonny is hot and serious and deadpan and if Sid’s the shy (but incredibly competent) one with a great smile then Jonny is the intimidatingly tall and hot one. Regular bar patrons occasionally give guys the DL on the Sid <3 Geno situation - if someone is interested in wooing Geno feel free to hit on him, make out with him, but they usually get warned to grab their drinks from Tazer.

Patrick Kane is one of those self hating gay dudes who comes to the bar to pick up and fuck in the bathroom and then goes back to saying f slurs with his finance bros. He’s probably very angsty and Tazer probably serves him a lot of water and stern looks.

Jamie Benn is one of those gay boys that has no style and doesn't know how to be gay at all. Sid feels for him deeply when he first starts coming in with just the solidarity of his straight brother who kind of abandons him to hustle at pool and watch hockey (hockey is always playing at 5Hole). Tyler Seguin probably swoops in early, takes him for haircuts and makeovers and long late-night heart-to-hearts they pretend are just bro-chats but no one is surprised when it turns out they’re secretly in love with each other.

Flower and Tanger are in some kind of open or poly relationship. As far as Sid can tell, Flower is married to a woman, but a couple times a month he and Tanger come to 5Hole and Tanger goes off to pick up a third guy for Flower’s inspection while Flower shoots the shit with Sid at the bar.

Phil Kessel genuinely comes in for the beer and the hockey and to not hear gay slurs while enjoying them. At first Sid thought maybe he was in the wrong bar and tried to warn him they weren’t a normal hockey bar, but Phil didn’t even look up from the beer menu and scathingly told Sid that he didn’t have his rainbow ID card with him that day, his apologies. After a while they all got used to him being gruff at the bar, focused on the TV more than the company, but still getting hit on relentlessly by like Hags. Phil usually tells him "SURE KID WHATEVER. YOU'RE TOO PRETTY FOR THE LIKES OF ME, MOVE ON." But Hags likes him, and thinks he’s cute and is slowly eroding Phil’s disbelief. Phil deserves love too.

Whenever Hags feels like he’s starting to cross the border into being harassing however it’s okay, he pays for Phil’s drink and then retreats to the corner that is occupied by mostly blonde swedes. Taken into Horny’s open (usually bare and glistening) arms, hair ruffled by Erik Karlsson.

The rest of the Swedes are a small contingent and insanely hot. They usually all break into their individual cliques and return every so often to Nicklas Backstrom’s table where he watches over them all with a stony expression of love, and makes sure the babies don’t get drugged (looking at you Willy Nylander).

There is a similar table of Loud Hot Russians, that is mostly lead by Ovi, and, depending on where their on and off friendship is at, Geno. But obviously Ovi is always like "SID! NICKY HERE?" literally any time he comes in. Ovi is just SMITTEN from the beginning, loving that beautiful impassive man, seeing the WARMTH WITHIN NICKY knowing he NEEDS OVI'S JOVIAL NATURE IN HIS LIFE. Whenever he can say something that gets Nicky to smile it’s 100% worth all his scathing looks and comments and he drunkenly pledges that he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to make Nicky smile as much as possible. Nicky thinks he’s certifiably insane, but eventually caves and starts hesitantly dating him, and they are definitely instantly the new old married couple at the bar. And then all the Russians and Swedes get strangely intermixed a lot. Geno and Horny being brothers etc.

The Bi Guy club is mostly just Tyler Seguin, Paul Bissonnette talking shit and giggling in a corner and occasionally leaving 5Hole to pick up down the street at the straight club.

IF ANYONE was gonna be part of the drag act that comes in on the first Friday of the month it'd be PK and his Predators. Roman Josi in drag would be so beautiful. Baby gays Kevin and Juuse, longtime queens Pekka and Shea (#denial). Those Preds are so pretty.

Johnny Hockey would be that twinky kid who is like actually maybe too afraid to have sex yet but acting all mature and like he can handle it but he's sEEN SOME FUCKED UP PORN, HE KNOWS ASSHOLES CAN JUST RIP AND HE'S SMALL he's just ANXIOUS. It doesn’t help that he’s deeply hung up on Sean Monahan who runs in the Fuck Boy circle with Tyler Seguin, Tom Wilson, Michael Latta, and Brady Skjei. He is afeared. It’s okay though, Jeff Skinner, and Beau Bennet comfort him and take in Mitch Marner when he wanders in on his 18th birthday.

There’s definitely a kind of low self-esteem but thicc as hell club? President Tyson Barrie, VP Nate Mac, Treasurer Jamie Benn. THEY ARE ALL SO SHY AND WEIRD BUT SO JACKED AND FUNNY??? Gabe's gotta always be tagging along with them because he thinks he fits right in, not because he's ugly or they're ugly but because he thinks they are all smart and funny. And also Tyson is super cute and he is INTO IT. But it like PEEVES Tyson like no other because GABE DOES NOT BELONG.

Tyson: Why does he not spend all his time with the hot swedes, he gets to be hot AND FUNNY. RUDE. Gabe doesn't know how to stay in HIS LANE. THERE IS SUCH THING AS TOO PERFECT GABRIEL. LOOK GABE, GO BACK TO YOUR HOMELAND, LOOK, THAT ONE WHO LOOKS LIKE A PIRATE PROBABLY IS MISSING YOU.

Gabe just exchanges looks with Nate and buys Tyson a very sugary drink (basically anything that ends in -tini) and smiles at him a lot to see him turn increasingly fluorescent shades of red.

Tom Wilson and Michael Latta despite their best intentions as part of the Fuck Boy clique are those guys who have been in a high school sweethearts level committed relationship for EVER AND EVER and everyone is like "maybe you should play the field" and they're like ....I don't think I need to. Because they have everything they need in their meathead bro! Solid sports understanding? Companionship? Twice the wardrobe? A+ blowies??? Done, done and done.

There is also the older distinguished extremely handsome gentleman's society aka Henrik Lundquist and Patrick Sharp. They’re biding their time, eyeing up future Gabe and Holtby. Ovi occasionally tries to set up shop with them and they're like "Good try, you might be silver but you're still like 28."

Thennn idk probably plot would happen like Geno would start dating someone and drama would occur and someone would have to force Sid to talk about his feelings and Geno would realise that he could have had Sid all along BECAUSE WE NEED LOVE.

5HOLE!

#headcanons from the icy void #sid/geno #sidgeno #Hockey RPF

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pineappleatoz · 3 years ago

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struggles

Back to my old mate here, Tumblr.

I don't know, there are so many websites but I feel comfortable writing here. Keeping my cloud diary so I can re-read what I wrote in the past.

It was 2 years ago when the pandemic hit. Life wasn't normal. It's not the same anymore. we struggled and here we are facing the life we never imagined before. yet, we survived! Honestly, I never thought that this year is going to be another challenge. with my mom's condition, me, my sisters, and my dad were covid positive. she felt alone that time as we usually be there for her talking to her (well, she could only stay in bed because her condition is getting worse).

I felt really thankful because by that time God showered us with full attention from people around us. they kept sending us their sincere prayers, so many fruits, food, medicines, etc.

But then, I lost some of my side hustles. Which lead me to rock bottom. My living expenses are quite big right now and I lost half of my income. Of course, I know. I again need to be thankful because it's only half of my income, not all of it. But it hits me hard. I don't know where else should I find it. Like I kept on trying this and that but God hasn't opened His door for me yet.

I keep telling myself that it will be alright. God has His plan. He planned everything in so much detail until you can't guess what's in the future. or what after this? This could be a lesson for me to learn. I might not understand it right now but somehow I know that I have to have faith that something wonderful awaits.

sadness wouldn't last forever right? why would I care about my sadness so much. Why would I worry that I couldn't get through it all.

Now my mom isn't on her best condition. she needs to see the psychiatrist because of her hallucinations and unstable emotions.

I feel mentally exhausted. I couldn't think clearly. I don't know what to do. All I can do is to work, work, work, and work to distract me from the real world that I have around me. I need to keep myself busy so I don't dragged to the dark side. I don't wanna get bitter. I know that I have to admit that I am so upset right now. I am not alright. I am not positive at all.

They're right, we have to cherish every moment. cause it could change in a blink of an eye. You might lost everything you've built in a sec. then what would you do? You grief? but you would not get them back like before. Life goes on. You need to keep walking and face it. Chin up! no giving up, cause life give you no choice. You can't just end your life because you have nothing else. despite, is it really nothing? or you just can't see the good side because of those bad things happened to you?

I still believe with this quote, "the harder you fall the higher you bounce." That is the quote that keeps me believing in myself and knowing that the great things await me! This believe gives me strength to stand up and walk again until it all great again.

Why? Even though it feels hard, I know those stuff made me who I am now. the stronger me, the wiser me.

So I will surrender and walk through this path with all my heart. I won't waste my energy for something that out of my control. Because again I know that there's every cloud has a silver lining, the sun will shine again soon.

#pineappleatoz #journal #pandemic life #lifelessons #family #writes #self help #selfreminder #self care #self love #selfworth

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darksoulchic-blog · 6 years ago

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Stay at home mom (SAHM) depression....

The elephant in the room nobody talks about ☹️

I mean, how DARE you complain after being gifted this opportunity to stay at home and raise YOUR own kids 🤦🏽‍♀️ but it's not that simple. Of course we SAHM's are being grateful to stay home and raise our young BUT that it's literally all we become.

No one talks about the isolation.

No one talks about the loss of identity.

No one talks about the loneliness.

No one talks about losing your sense of self.

No one talks about how you had to give up your career because it's cheaper for you to stay home.

No one talks about how you cry in the shower because your day was overwhelming.

No one understands why you're tired.

No one understands why you're irritable.

No one understands why you need a mental break.

No one understands why you're so aggravated with your kids.

No one understands why after you've been home all day, the house is a wreck still.

No one understands why you just need 5 minutes with no one speaking to or touching you.

No one understands why you've lost your sex drive.

No one understands why you're completely & utterly exhausted, after all, you just sit at home all day 😒

No one understands the feeling you have when you are told you don't have a "real job".

Most of us were working women at one point. We got to go to a job and interact with other adults outside our home. We contributed financially to our household. (Shoot, most of us want some kind of side hustle or part time job because it would sure help with financial relief) We didn't feel like an endless maid. We got that break away (even though yes, work is a love/ hate relationship) that gives you space from the people you live with (children, spouse... Etc) because yes, EVERY relationship needs time away in it to not go crazy being around each other 24/7. That's not healthy. Contrary to popular belief...

YOU👏NEED👏A👏 BREAK 👏 DAILY 👏

I can't tell you how many women I meet or know that say "oh, you have to much time on your hands" "I sure wish I could stay home, I wouldn't complain" good for you! I can guarantee you will change your mind 6 months in, unless you're wealthy and have money to constantly go do things. I once was you. I wish upon a damn star I could start home with my kids because I wanted to spend all the time I could. I didn't realize what all came with being a SAHM.

Oh but YOU chose to have those kids. YOU should've thought about that before having them. If you didn't want to go through all this YOU should've never had kids. & YOU said you want more????

Seriously.... Yup, heard those all before.

Next time you hear or see a SAHM venting her frustrations, listen and make her feel like she's somebody. That her struggles are not invalid. You know just because she don't have a "real job.

⚠️Thank you Momma's Tired for writing this! You definitely hit the nail on the head with this!!!!!

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dancekickboxcardio · 5 years ago

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Friday was actually a good day. I stopped 🛑 to talk to people and many stopped to say hi 👋🏾 to me. The most memorable was Frank. He’s a communications professor. They are all guilty of it, they are like so close. I don’t feel like I want to flinch. I am getting a shower 🚿 here. Don’t get me wrong. I like the guy. You just are less than a foot from me. I should lay down 🛏. But I have to be back to finishing this up. Gym life 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾. I have to bring that magic ✨ back. The classes has been controlled? Am I in full hold of my capacity or simply, I have not my fit Americano ☕️. I made an exercise template today. It reminds me of the stuff we have to fill out in nursing 👩🏼‍⚕️ school 🏫 . I also printed 🖨 out my new STATs 📊📈📉. I should feel horrible no. I gained. But my ratios are changing and for the better. I was feeling my legs 🦵🏾 today in Surrender 🧘🏼‍♀️. It was thicker not harder. I probably lost during the renovation 🚧 and recovery from injury ⛑. I shouldn’t run on. But practice was different today. I also felt the pinch on my low back more towards the right.

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Picking up where we left off. I am wearing my glasses 👓 and my legs 🦵🏾 look 👀 shapely. Of course with my contacts there is so many target 🎯 areas to work with. I am concerned 😟 about my legs and arms. I have tons of fat in my trunk. Hmmmm.... it indicates heart ♥️ health. Well, I am doing cardio. I’ll deal with the beast later. Right now, I love 💗 the changes. I enjoy 😊 being too physical. I gauge myself. Like I had to take it easy and take what I could get from the treadmill 🏃🏼‍♀️. I just ate a huge lunch 🍴. I don’t want a tummy ache 😖 and puke 🤮 my lunch 🥗. I heard purging yesterday in the bathroom 😢. Ok. Benefit of a doubt. Perhaps it’s anxiety 😬. It can be overwhelming on the floor and the mood combusting. I smiled 😃 at the guy from operations being included in Lane’s Fight class 🥊. I told him the first ever I used the word that I am being sexist. I called it as it was. I said girls should learn self-defense. Why does Vie say that? So you can walk away from an attempted rape as if you didn’t ruffle any feathers but the assailant. Lane does not know that. Other girls will react and take it differently and definitely not steely. He said boys too. As you can tell I really considered what he said and admitted that I seem to say that ladies are naturally weak. If you want to argue with me, men are really built and they have the hormones that dictate their strength. But have you guys seen Viking women. I thought 💭 about Lagarthe with my hair yesterday. You should see them fight ⚔️ 🛡 . Caution: this clip 🎞 is bloody and violent.

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I let Jamesicle 🐈 in. He’s not ebullient today. He’s always in your business sociable. I see him plenty of times as all cats do from a far stare at you. I woke up early today. I went to bed 🛏 a little after 1200p. I tried sleeping 💤 to wake at 500a. When Dad walked in from work and I was stuffing my mouth 👄 with polvoron and hopia (busted) he asked if I was working out 💪🏾, I said probably afternoon. I have been aware that I am losing precious time not putting in study 📖 time. Don’t get me wrong. I am never not studying 😏. I love ❤️ my new pet name. Wee wee. But I must put my real work in. Today, I have the opportunity to do that. It took me like a week to institute the changes ➰. I tell you it’s not easy. There is always resistance. After, it’s keeping it going.

I had no issues Friday working out after lunch 🥙. I did 60 minutes MetCon. However, I believe there is established norms on not exercising after eating 🍽. They said it causes appendicitis. Knowing some medical 🏥 conditions, I believe that is from bacteria 🦠 and inflammation that causes a could be fatal bursting of the sac. It’s not because you fed and moved. Things people say to explain things so that they can understand and have some answer even if it’s not exactly zeroing in. Gawd, my fit Americano ☕️ is done ��. My Mom got me strawberry 🍓 flavored protein powder. I add chocolate 🍫 to the drink. I should really switch up to pumpkin 🎃 latte.

They keep on playing 🎶 oldies on KTU New York. I am not complaining but I want to hear some “Truth hurts 🎤...” by Lizzio

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I listened 👂🏾 to Lady Gaga a lot when I worked as a nurse aide. I was doing it on the weekends 📅. They keep giving me jobs. But my Mom absolutely didn’t want me doing anything but books 📚 first year at Notre Dame. I think 💭 during summers I had some room to negotiate. I love 💗 being in school 🏫 and I always sign up vacay that’s why it’s no surprise that I finished the psych degree within a year. I keep on. During the long drive to some hinterland near Akron which is two hours driving to and fro to do three hours work which is actually $24 and I am paying for gas ⛽️, I listen to CDs 💿 of artists with new songs. She was always on. There was another pop singer 👩🏻‍🎤 that I can remember going east. I tried looking 🔎 for the name of the singer. I can’t find her. It has something to do with falling in love 😍 with best friend. Found it.

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Ugh 😑, pizza 🍕 on order for dinner 🥘 . As messy and busy and packed as it was without a second to breath, it was a good life for me. I shouldn’t be complaining right?

I noticed how my left fingers point and middle has these superficial cuts. I wonder where I got them from. I have no clue. My best guess is on the machine handles?

I think 🤔 my best conversation Friday was with Mark Consuelo. My sister said she has met him. But I wanted to show him that she is my sister. He had a client. He approached shaking his bottle after I was done ✅ 60. My first thought 💭 was he is ready to feed the baby 👶🏻. Then, we talked about height etc. He said he’s going to bring Mox. I’ll be excited 😆 to meet him. I think 🤔 he’s going to look German. But I was surprised 😯 at how tall he was. Next to him not so. But from a far you can see the height. He doesn’t look 👀 massive. They all don’t but these trainers 👟 are strong. I saw Ian with the circle bar that carries loads yesterday. I didn’t know the weights on them. Then Lane was carrying the punching bag. I should be fainting right. I was surprised 😮 at how powerful I do kicks. I have more energy than I realize.

The place had a lot of youth hanging out. Way to start the weekend 🗓 right. They were socializing. I had stuff I was working on. I saw Susan too, an interesting friend. I engaged her in conversation💬 about her faith. I always had it in me to knowing what I don’t. I am fascinated by their religion in the first place. It’s a little mystical to me. Others won’t pay attention. I guess I was bred with a certain caliber to appreciate what I don’t know 🤷🏼‍♀️. Perhaps, it’s also a curious trait. I think 🤔 I was working aisle by aisle this day on the equipment section. I had to hustle it up after I looked 👀 at my watch ⌚️ and I had little time left. I was hitting both upper and lower bod. The legs 🦵🏾 were popular that day. I was able to get my turn.

Also, if you are curious about Metabolic Conditioning, I took a picture of their education workshop. There is always something to learn about the body. I should have taken a photo of it too. There’s one Saturday about body mechanics. There’s only 6 spots and I think 💭 I am going to let others benefit. Where’s Joce? She’s like my go to person when I have a question. Laura is my veteran trainer and she’s usually busy. It’s a learning experience no.

I didn’t have time to sauna 🧖🏼‍♀️ ☹️. I am just happy 😃 I have a pack of Skintimate. My gawd, I found out Sunday that the pack of 6 shaver was $18 at CVS. I told my Mom they were selling it at BJs 16 for $19. Of course, it sold out 🏷. Wait, I am hearing Geri Halliwell.

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alexander-----hamilton-blog · 7 years ago

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Years—2009

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The sun was always in her eyes

She didn’t even see me, but that girl had so much love

She’d wanna kiss you all the time

Yeah, she’d wanna kiss you all the time

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January 25, 2009

It’s been a couple months since we saw Hayley Williams (I use her full name because I fucking can), when she told us that she’d take us to Florida for some show between Paramore, New Found Glory, and some other bands. Sure, we haven’t had any sort of contact with her, which makes me quite skeptical about whether or not we’re gonna go, but I’m clinging onto the 0.001% that she’ll contact us soon.

I flipped the top on my flip phone and let it bounce onto the mattress. Emma and I have been studying our asses off, even though final exams don’t start until April. With all my notes and books scattered across my desk and some on my floor, there isn’t much moving space, but I managed to trudge over to the open door, meeting my best friend in the hallway. “Your turn to wash the dishes today.”

Emma groaned loudly, scratching her head. “But I washed them last week.”

��Exactly,” I opened the cupboard to bring out two cups and plates, “You washed them once last week and claimed that you had gotten a serious injury on your finger, so you refused to wash them for the rest of that week and the weekend.” The stove began to heat up after I turned it on, placing a pan over the flame. “Help me out here, Emma. I’m the one that always cleans the house, makes the food, and chases after you when you ‘forget’ to give me your half of the rent.”

The brunette gasped while placing her hand on her chest in a fake-offended manner. She pouted at me, searching for a comeback but not being able to come up with one. I smiled at her as I cracked an egg open—the yolk swerved around the small amount of oil I poured a few minutes ago.

After setting up the two-seater table and finishing most of the breakfast I made, I coughed in an attempt to grab Emma’s attention. Of course she didn’t notice and merely shrugged it off as me catching a cold or something. It is still January. I coughed a couple more times, Emma still not looking up to see me. “Damnit, Emma!” She raised her eyebrows at my outburst. “Don’t you know what a fake-cough sounds like? I’m trying to get your attention you ignorant fuck.”

“Cheese and rice, ok!” She lifted her hands up in defense. “What?”

“January’s almost ending.” Emma nodded her head, giving me vowel-extended 'ok’. “Do you think she forgot? I was kinda looking forward to it.”

My best friend sighed, reaching over to place her hand over mine. “No, she wouldn’t do that. Hayley’s a nice person, it probably hasn’t happened yet. Plus, there’s one last Saturday left of this month, keep your hopes up.”

January 30, 2009; 3:39 P.M

I finished swiping the dust off my desk and bedside table with a wet rag, stacking my books there in alphabetical order. My eyes scanned over the script I memorized in three days. The professor in my musical theatre major announced that there would be someone coming to watch our next performance; whoever seemed worthy enough in his or her book would get the chance to make it big in the musical theatre industry, whether it was on or off-Broadway shows. Because of that announcement I have been working my ass off, organizing performances for Emma (who is always unamused) and auditioning for roles in local theaters.

Apart from my studies, I don’t really worry about anything else going on in my life. Tomorrow is the last Saturday of January, meaning if nothing happens by morning I’ll have officially given up on going to Florida for the weekend.

I jumped in surprise when Emma barged into my room, her phone in her hands. “Pack” pant “your” pant “bags” pant “right now!” She leaned against my door. “You have fifteen minutes. Unless, of course, you wanna miss our flight.”

“What flight?” I asked, rushing to start packing, nonetheless.

Emma ran over to her room, the sound of rustling ringing in the halls. “We’re going to Florida, dumbass! The plane leaves at 4:05 and it’s already 3:40!” She yelled. “Pack enough clothes for tonight, all of tomorrow, and Sunday morning! And hurry the hell up!”

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My friend and I raced out the door, instantly noticing a parked car in front of ours. It’s a pretty nice car, not too extravagant, but not junky and worn-out like ours. Emma grabbed my hand and led me towards it, Hayley opening the door to go help us with our bags. “Hey you two!”

“Hey!” I greeted, walking towards the trunk and placing my two bags in there.

Hayley closed the trunk and jogged towards the driver’s side, stepping inside and closing the door. I managed to fight Emma over the passenger’s seat, so she had to sit in the back as we drove through the streets of New York, heading to the airport.

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There wasn’t much traffic, and the airport wasn’t very busy for a Friday, which surprised me a lot. Hayley handed us our plane tickets, to which I promised I’d pay back for later. We neared the gate the intercom lady told us to to walk through.

Soon, we were sitting in our assigned seats as the plane left the airport.

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7:31 P.M

Emma, Hayley, and I hustled into our three-person-group as we went over to grab our luggage. Outside the airport, we stopped a taxi and used it to drive to a certain hotel Hayley had paid for (to which, again, I said I’d help pay for later).

The drive there wasn’t very long, and the view wasn’t half-bad either. The water was a little cleaner than New York’s and the people seemed a lot nicer. It could just be me, though.

Once we were all settled into our hotel rooms (Emma and I shared a two-bed room while Hayley had her own), we showered, changed, and went out to get some food. We returned to the hotel extremely tired—which is most likely why I don’t remember most of that night.

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She said she won the world at a carnival, but I’m sure it didn’t ruin her

Just made her more interesting

I’m sure it didn’t ruin her, just made her more interesting

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January 31, 2009

The sound of curtains being moved made me stir a little, but once the bright rays of sun hit my eyes, I was completely awake. Hayley smiled in our direction, her cheerful mood making me feel better about being waken up. Emma, however, didn’t look very happy.

“Wake up! The show is today and I have the tickets already!” Hayley continued to pace around the room, shaking Emma out of her sleep. “You two have twenty minutes to get ready.” She walked towards the door and left.

I grinned at her way of waking us up before rolling out of bed, bringing out the bag I left my clothes in to place a set of undergarments, a black lace crop top, high-waisted plaid skirt, and black jacket on my bed. My towel was already in the bathroom, so there’s no point in looking for it—I tugged the covers off Emma before stepping into the bathroom to take a shower.

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A slight waviness in my hair formed after I styled it, rushing outside to put on my shoes and grab my makeup bag, which consists of eyeliner, mascara, one tube of lipgloss, and two small containers of eyeshadow (I don’t use those very often).

Emma was surprisingly already changing by the time I finished putting on my makeup, giving me a good five minutes of watching T.V while my best friend combed her brown hair. She was tying her shoes when she looked at me and wolf-whistled. “You’re gonna have everyone begging to be up your skirt today, Y/N.”

I scoffed, throwing a pillow at her as I attempted to hide my red cheeks.

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11:45 A.M

Hayley, Emma, and I quickly ate breakfast, my best friend halting a taxi. Hayley told him the address on where we were heading (she practically whispered it to him) and sat back down in her seat as he drove.

The people in the streets chatted with each other, some entering stores and others simply walking around. All of their commotion seemed very interesting, but once again, I’ve never been here, so everything seems interesting.

12:38 A.M

Hayley apparently told the taxi driver to take us to a shopping center, because there were hundreds of people walking out with shopping bags: Guess, Forever 21, Hot Topic, etc.

I’m not planning on buying many things, probably just a shirt or some food, but that’s it. Emma squealed when the taxi stopped, dragging me inside to search for the nearest Hot Topic. Hayley told us that she’d be at the food court (where I desperately want to be right now) while Emma and I go into stores.

“I wanna be at the food court, why are you doing this?” I questioned as my friend shoved me into Hot Topic (I don’t mind the store, but I’d much rather be eating).

Emma grinned. “Because, if we’re gonna go to a concert with bands, it’s necessary that you wear a band t-shirt, not some sweater and jeans.”

I hummed in response as she grabbed my hand and took me to the far back of the store, positioning me in front of all the band t-shirts. Sure, I’ll listen to bands from time to time, mostly Fall Out Boy, Green Day, Paramore (of course), and My Chemical Romance, but I won’t exactly fill my closet with their merch. I’m more of a Broadway person, where I buy CD’s with Broadway music and play it when I’m bored.

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3:23 P.M

Emma picked out three shirts for me, not letting me see any of them, and shockingly paid for them. I’ve lived with my best friend for almost three years, and during that time only once has she bought me something without me telling her to do it: when we went to the Panic! concert. This makes me a bit skeptical about why she hasn’t let me see the t-shirts and why she’s buying me stuff, but I’m a lazy person and don’t want to work my brain too hard over the weekend, so I’m gonna let it slide.

Apparently we spent a shitton of time at Hot Topic because when I checked my phone, it was already 3:00, meaning we were bound to eat lunch anytime soon. Emma and eye walked towards the food court, looking around for Hayley.

“Do you see her yet?”

I shook my head at Emma, gripping my phone tightly as I took a couple more steps towards the various tables set up. “Maybe she went to go look for us since you took so damn long to get me three fucking shirts.”

Emma gaped at me. “Don’t blame this on me! I took time to find perfect shirts for you and that makes me a good friend.”

I mumbled a quick 'sure’ before scanning the area for Hayley once more.

“You guys looking for somethin’?” Emma and I wheeled around to see the person we had been looking for smirking smugly at us. “Damn, you two took so long that it’s time for lunch. What do you wanna eat?”

Emma glanced at me, inspecting the many food choices we had around us. “I’m not sure. Does pizza sound good?” Hayley and I simply shrugged, heading towards the first pizza place in the food court.

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By the time we finished eating and shopping, it was already six, meaning we were waiting outside while looking for taxis to take us back to the hotel so we could get ready for the show. Hayley let Emma and I change while she hung out in her room and prepared for the show as well.

The brunette in my room smirked at me as she brought out the three shirts she bought for me at Hot Topic. Two of them were black and the third was white, Emma biting her lip before picking up the white one with her delicate fingers. “You’re wearing this one. Don’t put too much thought on what it says, just wear it, put on your jeans and shoes and wait for me in the bathroom; I’m doing your hair.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, but proceeded to undress myself and throw on the clothes I had already laid out on the bed. After living with Emma for this much time, we’re completely comfortable with being half-naked in front of each other, no awkward silence or tension between us—that’s what makes me value our friendship no matter how much shit she puts me through.

About fifteen minutes later, I was done with putting on my clothes, inspecting my outfit in the mirror. Before I could thoroughly check it, however, Emma pulled my arm and dragged me into the bathroom, toying with the wavy strands of h/c that I call my hair. She instantly began to spray it with various chemicals and hair products, all the commotion making me anxious on what the hell she’s doing to my hair.

Emma noticed my worried expression and pouted, giving my cheek a sister-like peck. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you look gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as me, of course, but still pretty hot.” She winked at me through the mirror, continuing to mess with my hair.

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The brunette finally let my hair cascade down my shoulders, fixing a few stray strands as she gradually made her way next to me. I smiled at her and stepped towards the full-length mirror outside the bathroom, giving my outfit an official look.

The h/c curls that were suddenly tame due to Emma’s magic hair supplies appeared to me the thing that stood out about this entire look. Apart from the shirt, obviously, which has very familiar lyrics on it.

Once Emma was done changing, we grabbed our hotel key and walked to Hayley’s room, only knocking twice before she opened the door. “You ready?”

I nodded my head 'yes’, me being the first one to turn around and head towards the elevators.

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6:32 P.M

We soon arrived at an arena, a couple cars parked here and there, but the area being fairly vacant. I quickly pulled out the money necessary to pay the taxi and pulled Emma outside, Hayley already out of the text and tapping her foot against the dirty floor. The lack of people outside made me question whether we were here on time, but I decided to shrug it off and continue to walk with the other two.

Hayley pulled out three large tickets and showed them to the lady who didn’t look too thrilled about her job. She lazily scanned each ticket, making us wait for about three minutes before letting us pass. I curiously wandered around the outside area (still sticking close to Hayley and Emma), my expression resembling that of a five-year old at a candy store. It hadn’t really hit me yet that I was in Florida, but I feel like it will soon.

The orangey-red haired girl led us inside the venue, taking us into a room where there were a couple lounge chairs and a mini-fridge which I assume has drinks and food inside. Hayley slumped into one of the chairs, motioning for us to do the same. “Until my boyfriend and the others guys get here, we have this room all to ourselves. You have anything planned?”

Emma and I glanced at each other, our heads simultaneously moving towards the Wii and T.V sitting on a desk.

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The three of us took turns playing on the two controllers that were there, eventually getting tired and turning off the Wii before sitting down on the chairs once more, slightly sweaty but still very hyperactive.

Hayley panted while she threw us some water bottles from the fridge, her expression lightening up as the doorknob turned. In stepped a fairly tall man who’s lips curved into a smile when he saw the fiery-orange haired girl that’s sitting next to me. She stood up to bring him into an embrace before giving him a peck on the lips. I looked at Emma, who merely smiled at the couple. Hayley grinned. “Chad this is Emma and Y/N, Emma and Y/N this is my boyfriend, Chad.”

Chad extended his hand to shake mine as I stood from my seat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chad.”

“S’ a pleasure to meet you as well.” He went over to shake Emma’s hand, the girl giving him a friendly smile. “I’m guessing you two are here to see the concert? Judging by your shirt, of course.” He pointed at the t-shirt that covered my top-half. “The boys’ll be here in a few minutes, they have a only a have a couple more things to do and they already did sound check, so I’m guessing they’ll b-”

A male voice interrupted Chad, the door slowly opening. “I hope you’re not talking about us, Chad, because that would be-” The man that stepped inside halted once he saw me and Emma, a sincere smile washing over his pink lips. “-unfortunate.”

My eyes widened at the quite beautiful sight of Brendon Urie grinning at me, my the temperature of my cheeks rising drastically. I reluctantly averted my eyes from the man, gaping at Emma and Hayley, who had smug looks on their faces. Emma simply gave me an 'innocent’ shrug while Hayley chewed at her bottom lip to hide a smirk.

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I, I know why

Because when I look in her eyes, I just see the sky

When I look in her eyes, well I just see the sky

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7:13 P.M

Emma and Hayley decided to go for ice-cream a couple minutes ago, the red-haired female dragging her boyfriend along with a some other people, two of them being from Panic!. This left me and Brendon alone in the room, an eerie silence overtaking us as we laid back in the chairs.

I attempted to get out a few words during the past five minutes, but I always close my mouth before anything escapes it. My brain tells me 'ask how he’s doing, don’t be rude’ only to stop me by saying 'no, don’t, then he’ll ask you the same and you won’t have anything else to say.’

Brendon curled his hand into a fist, tapping the arm of the chair gently before clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s been a while.”

My eyes shot up at his words. “Y-Yeah. Eight months.” I physically winced at my response, silently scolding myself for answering that way. He’s most likely freaked out about the fact that I remember the exact months we didn’t see each other. Great.

“Eight months and twenty-four days.” He corrected. “We met on the seventh of May, and it’s the thirty-first of January now; so if I haven’t forgotten how to properly subtract, that was eight months and twenty-four days ago.”

My lips began to curve into a smile, the action being inevitable no matter how much I bit my lip. “You aren’t wrong. I’m kinda surprised you’d remember, I thought you’d forget and move on, to be honest.” That was cheesy. I should apologize—wait, no. I shouldn’t. Jesus, I can’t speak or think properly in this man’s presence.

Brendon inhaled deeply, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Well, you never really left my mind.” He told me with a slight chuckle. “'You should leave before I kiss you’, remember?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How’s your partner doing?” Brendon asked. The question made a pit form in my stomach, my brain rushing to come up with an answer.

I licked my bottom lip. “We, uh, we broke- yeah. We broke up.”

The brown-haired man nodded his head with an 'oh’ leaving his lips. He looked down at the chair and covered most of his mouth with his hand, little dimples forming on his cheeks. “That’s- that’s, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault.” I should be the one apologizing, I lied to him about having a partner in the first place and now I’m lying about breaking up with said partner.

Brendon gave me a small 'right’, standing up and walking towards the door. He glanced back at me and grinned. “You coming or not?”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

We ended up lounging around on the seats on the lower bowl of the arena, the both of us sniggering as we watched Emma, Hayley, Chad, and the rest of the Panic! members searching the floor area to see if they could find us. Sure, we’d only be able to pull this off for a bit longer since it was almost time for the faculty and staff members to allow fans to enter, but it’s definitely quite fun while it lasts.

I ducked behind one of the seats when Ryan and Emma looked our way, pulling Brendon with me. “They’re looking.” I whispered, a mischievous glimmer in my eyes as I peeked over the edge. “Think they’re gone.”

Brendon frowned at me, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, but we have to go backstage now unless we wanna deal with untuned instruments, underdressed performers, and cheering fans that’ll freak the fuck out if they saw me here.” I nodded disappointedly, allowing Brendon to help me out of my crouching position. “You’ll come backstage after the show, right? If you don’t have passes it’s fine, Hayley can most likely get you there, no problem.”

“Mhmm.” I hummed. “I’ll be there.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The concert ended almost as quick as it started, making my nerves taunt my stomach in a fluttering manner. Adrenaline rushed through my veins for some fucking reason as the people poured out of the arena, leaving Emma and I to look for Hayley. She had to stay backstage since she couldn’t just stroll into the crowd without someone noticing her and making a riot.

A few minutes passed before someone hissed at us. Emma and I glanced around: behind the speakers, over the tops of seats and at the nearest doors. We kept at it until the host of the voice tapped our shoulders, Hayley smiling at us. “I would ask if you guys wanna go home, but Brendon told me that he really wanted to see you-” she moved her hand in my direction. “-so I’m here to take you there.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The sound of males chatting got louder as we neared the lounge room we were in earlier. Hayley opened the door and instantly went to sit in the chair next to Chad while Emma and I walked over to the right side of the room, leaning on the wall. Brendon looked up from the conversation he was having with—if I remember correctly—Spencer, who smirked a bit when he saw who the brown-haired male was staring at. The singer gave me a toothy grin as he motioned for the two of us to come over, bringing in two chairs from the back of the room so we could sit down.

Emma sat down next to me, constantly edging me closer to Brendon. The singer smiled bashfully at me when my friend pushed me a bit too far, ending up with me placing my hand on Brendon’s arm so I didn’t land on my face. I squinted my eyes at her, watching as she turned red with laughter.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

After a couple awkward minutes, Brendon and I began to talk normally, realizing that we had more in common than we thought. We shared interests like music (obviously) and a couple bands, but what stunned me the most was that he was interested in Broadway. We talked about that for a while, not noticing when everyone else cleared out of the room.

“Tell me more about you, you seem very interesting.” He leaned across the chair, giving me a broad grin. “Don’t hold back and be completely honest.”

I bit my lip, questioning whether I should tell him or not. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? “You want complete honesty?” Brendon nodded. “You sure?” He nodded once more. “You know, maybe you don’t wanna kno-”

“I wanna know, Y/N!”

“I never actually had a boyfriend!” I blurted, waiting for the man’s response. “I lied to you because I thought I’d never see you again. I was focused on studying and decided it was best if I told you I wasn’t single. I’m really sorry.”

A few moments passed, each second feeling like eternity to me. Brendon finally looked up from his lap, a smile on his face. “You mean I could’ve asked you out all this time and it wouldn’t have been a problem? Y/N, honestly, it’s fine. I’m a little bummed about it, but it’s fine. Honestly.”

I let out a giggle, glancing at my phone to check the time. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Brendon checked his phone. “Shit. We need to start packing up, we’re supposed to be in the hotel in two hours.”

He stood up, getting ready to sprint out the door before asking for my phone, claiming he needed to check what time it was even though there were many clocks in the room. When he finished, there was a buzz coming from his pocket. He brought out his phone and smiled, putting it away again. “Well, uh, I guess this is goodbye.” A tiny smile formed on his lips.

I frowned. “Yeah, guess it is.” I felt a bit depressed that he didn’t seem sad about saying goodbye, but I hid it, walking out of the room to go find Hayley and Emma.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

February 2, 2009

My thumb roamed around the buttons in my phone, my boredom getting the best of me as I checked through my calls and messages. There were a couple resent texts, but only one caught my attention. The contact name read: B. Just 'B’. Nothing more, nothing less. I bit my lip as I pressed call, raising my phone to my right ear. There was an age-long ringing, the sound followed by a familiar voice. “Hey, Y/N!”

I was a bit taken aback by him knowing my name, but soon matched the voice with a face. “Brendon?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “That’s me.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

March 28, 2009

Brendon and I have been talking non-stop over the phone, constantly making plans to hang out when we’re not busy (which is luckily most of the time we’ve had each other’s numbers). Today we’re supposed to head out to walk around Broadway street, hoping to thoroughly experience the magic of theatre.

I received a message from Brendon as I did my hair. He had sent me a text that said You almost ready?’ to which I responded with 'Almost. Just doing my hair’. Before I could resume tying my hair into a ponytail, I got another message, this one being a recording instead of a text. The recording was followed by a text: 'This is how I feel.’

My eyebrows furrowed at the screen, my thumb pressing on the select button so I could hear the recording. What came out was the sound of instruments playing, Brendon’s voice joining the well-made instrumental. “I was fine, just a guy living on my own—waiting for the sky to fall—then you called and changed it all, doll. Velvet lips and the eyes that pull me in. We both knew you’d already win. Mmm, you’re original sin.”

The song continued, my mind processing every word, constantly wondering who this song was written about. At least, until I heard my name. “Y/N smiles like Y/N doesn’t care. She lives in her world so unaware. Does she know that my destiny lies with her?”

“Y/N.” “Y/N.” “Y/N.” “Y/N.”

“Oh, Y/N.” “Y/N.”

“Are you saving me?”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

I rushed towards the living room when I heard the doorbell, Emma staring at me with a weird expression. My legs took me as fast as they could to the door, my hand gripping the doorknob and opening the door. Brendon stood with his hands behind his back, looking at me with nervous eyes. I smiled at him as my brown orbs welled up with joyous tears. “I feel the same way.”

The singer opened and closed his mouth, his lips soon forming a large grin. He pulled me towards him by my waist and held my ecstatic face in his hands, rubbing small, delicate circles on my cheekbones. I felt my cheeks start to burn from smiling when he leaned closer to me, pressing his lips onto my own.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

I don’t love you I’m just passing the time

You could love me if I knew how to lie, but who could love me?

I am out of my mind

Throwing a line out to sea to see if I can catch a dream

“She Had the World” by Panic! At The Disco

#brendon urie x reader #brendon urie #nina dobrev #x reader #panic! at the disco #2009 #years #paramore #new found glory

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